#hope y'all enjoy reading :0
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
Csptaineer art request 5. admiring them from afar
dear anon, I know you asked for art but I had intended these as writing prompts! however!! I may doodle something for this later anyway, because it's cute :3
and still, never do we tire of watching stars glow
head engineer mark x reader (the captain) | words: 877
For as long as you'd known him, he'd always had a certain look of awe about him when it came to space:
When you were kids, huddled up in blankets watching a documentary about The Solar System while you shared a bowl of cookies.
And as teens, laying side by side in the dry summer grass, gazing up at the stars dotting the sky, laughing and pointing out constellations and making up stories about what it would be like when you got to be among them.
And as cadets, the first time you voyaged beyond Earth's atmosphere.
Now the Captain of a ship he'd built from the ground up, it took you by surprise when you looked up from your data tablet one day to see him gazing at you with that same look of wistfulness and wonder.
His expression lasted for the briefest moment before he registered that you'd seen him, eyes widening and cheeks flushing almost imperceptibly from this distance. He immediately averted his gaze to anywhere but yours, busying himself with whatever he could.
You let out an amused huff, an incredulous yet flattered smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
It was far from the first time you'd caught someone giving you a starstruck or near-mesmerised look, especially within your own crew. But for him to be the one staring like that? The same admiration and fascination that you'd seen in his eyes when he beheld an eclipse, or a meteor shower, or your new home planet, directed at you…?
You couldn't deny the small flutter in your stomach, or your heartbeat slightly quickening its pace.
You brushed off the thought and continued working, but from then on you couldn't help but keep noticing the awe and longing when he looked at you, whether it be from across a room or in conversation. It made you wonder if this was a recent phenomenon, or if you had simply been blind to it for a long time.
It was one of those moments of catching his warm, starlit gaze in which you were caught off-guard once again.
You met his eyes with the same intensity once you realised he was watching you, raising your eyebrows slightly to get his attention. He looked embarrassed and a little taken aback, as he always did in such scenarios, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he decided whether or not to abandon ship. Instead, his mouth curved into a smile that crinkled his eyes with fondness, followed by a quick wink.
Now it was your turn to look surprised.
It's not that the gesture was out of character or that he couldn't be bold when he wanted to. You just hadn't expected it now.
Later, you found it in you to be direct.
‘What's with all the staring lately, Mark?’
His eyes widened at the question. It wasn't particularly like you to be so upfront about something like this.
You watched as your head engineer’s expression turned apologetic and a little guilty, like he'd been caught red-handed.
‘Uhh- I'm sorry. Am I in trouble, Captain?’
You giggled quietly. ‘Nah. I never said I minded, just wondering…’
He visibly relaxed at your response.
‘Oh, well in that case. To be honest, Cap, it's sorta hard to look away sometimes.’
You felt your face flush at this, but were given no pause to utter a reply even if you’d had the words; he continued quickly, as if just realising what he'd said aloud and in the same moment deciding to fully commit to speaking his mind, before he could let himself back out.
‘I just- I love seeing you doing your job, you look so happy and assured. And proud — of everyone you work with, proud that you're part of the team. You're always so willing to help out and listen to what everyone needs. And watching you take command of a situation- You just– you have this aura that screams that you belong here, this is what you were meant to do, and you have a positive effect on everybody around you. We're so lucky and grateful to have you as our Captain.’
And here you are, stunned into silence for a moment.
He stands there, trying to gauge your reaction, a little flustered himself but steadfast in his confession.
You feel a little giddy, but take a breath to soothe your racing heart, finally composing yourself again as the smile you can no longer hold back paints your face.
‘Thank you, Mark. That's… that's really sweet.’
He grins. ‘Just being honest.’
‘And I feel exactly the same about you, by the way.’
He tilts his head in confusion.
‘Watching you in action, it's the same.’
You can see it in his eyes when it clicks.
‘Wait, Captain, are you saying you-’
‘Almost as much as you,’ you chuckle. ‘Except I don't get caught. You could definitely use some improvement in that area.’
He looks away, smile becoming sheepish, the tint on his cheeks you are sure matches yours from only moments ago.
‘But… like I said,’ you speak up again, drawing his attention back to you. ‘I don't really mind. It is kinda cute seeing your reaction when I catch you.’
#I'm sorry this took a lot longer than I was planning#at first I was just struggling then when I got into it stuff was happening irl and I was too busy😩#but anyway I hope you enjoy!#hope this doesn't read as too ooc or anything😬 I just want super sweet fluff rn#maybe I am just overthinking but lmk what you think y'all think#as always reading your comments makes my entire day or week even#ALSO CHILDHOOD FRIENDS CAPTAINEER WOOO#I AM SUCH A SUCKER FOR THE TROPE#AND I THINK ABOUT MARK AND THE CAPTAIN AS KIDS ALL THE TIME LIKE WAY TOO MUCH#also about the title bc I was feeling a little poetic :0 just think.#humanity has been gazing at the same stars for eons#and yet we still do it#we don't ever get bored#maybe some like to more than others but#I think it's fair to say that it's a pretty universally shared and agreed upon idea that stars are beautiful#and looking at them is nice#and we probably won't stop any time soon#I think that's a nice sentiment :) and it literally just came to me as I was trying to think of a title#amee writes#blooming romance prompts#asks#anonymous#iswm#in space with markiplier#captaineer#engineer mark x captain#engineer mark x reader#head engineer mark x reader#head engineer mark#engineer!mark
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
the back-up plan | jjk
summary: one drunken night leads to an agreement that if you and jungkook are still single by 30, you'd marry each other. the only thing is jungkook has been doing everything he can to keep you single.
💖 title: the back-up plan | one-shot 💖 pairing: jungkook x f!reader | 💖 genre/au: romance, fluff / friends to lovers(?) 💖 rating: SFW | 18+ | 💖 word count: 18.1k | 💖 playlist 💖 warnings: jungkook & reader are both 29, reader is a hopeless romantic (what else is new with my characters?), jungkook is always pining and head over heels in love, jungkook is sweet and in luvrrr but he’s bad at feelings and tells some terrible lies (don’t hate him—ok!!), reader has a skewed view of relationships and what's expected of her, jungkook calls her wifey, hot and seggsy neighbor!namjoon (yes, pls), shirtless namjoon (2x), kissing, hand-holding, some suggestive language, mentions of erotic art and positions, first dates, alcohol consumption, reader has her belly button pierced, talks of tattoos & getting them, mentions of needles, and idk some things may come off as cheesy??? but it's a romance story so idk take what you will, light angst (you should know me by now!!), jungkook gets a lil drunk (pls drink responsibly), jealous jk comes out, love confessions 💖 a/n: the plot is a bit ridiculous, but that's the point! it's fiction (lol), i hope y'all enjoy it for what it is. the idea came from a tweet I saw, but ofc, I can't find it! so thank you to whoever tweeted it! and, happy birthday to the loml, jeon jungkook (this was supposed to be out for his birthday, but my brain said no). i also have to thank holly (@alphabetboyluvr). i respect her so much as a writer and friend, and I was super scared to ask her to even look at my outline, but she's always so sweet and willing. i couldn't have done this without her help, her comments, and suggestions <3 (i'd also recommend listening to the playlist while reading :)) and as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts 💖
sunday.
Another day has passed, and it’s creeping closer to your birthday. They’re supposed to be joyous, celebratory occasions–and you love feeling special, showered with love and gifts. What more could a person want?
But you had a clear goal before hitting the big 3-0: get married–or at least be engaged to be married.
Most girlfriends your age were still having fun, enjoying life, and not ready to settle down. You’re unsure if your upbringing or society’s expectations distorted you, but you were fond of marriage and finding the one to spend your life with.
You also blamed the hopeless romantic in you when you dragged every one of your girlfriends with you to see the new romantic comedy, giggled, and kicked your feet when reading the latest best-selling romance novel.
The thing was, you were so close to getting engaged. You and your boyfriend, Theo, of eight months–well, ex-boyfriend–discussed it openly from the beginning of your relationship. And not even two weeks ago, he broke up with you out of the blue and gave no clear explanation.
You sat in bed debating whether to download your old dating apps again. Your birthday was in six days, and you knew you wouldn’t find a suitable mate before your birthday, but at least you could try, right?
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:27 PM Happy ‘almost 30th’ birthday.
You 11:28 PM 😭😭😭
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:28 PM Are you still crying over Theodore Boner?
You 11:29 PM It’s Bonner, not boner!
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:29 PM 🤣🤣🤣 You were saved from that one. Imagine having the last name Boner.
You rolled your eyes at the text from Jungkook, throwing your phone beside you as you curled under your duvet.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call
“What do you want, Kook?”
“You gotta admit, ____ Boner sounds awful,” Jungkook laughed as he pushed back in his recliner.
“I’m hanging up!” you threatened, getting ready to push the end button.
"No, no! I'm kidding. You would've made a great Mrs. Boner."
"Bye–Kook."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm done, I promise."
"I had a whole plan. What am I supposed to do now? My birthday is in six days," you groaned, covering your face with the duvet.
"You don't remember our agreement, do you?"
You brought the cover down. Curious about his comment. "What agreement?"
💖💖💖
Before this most recent one, your ex, Jimin, had broken up with you, and you were on the rebound, looking for a good time. Jungkook came to the rescue, saving you from your next mistake. He took you out for drinks, let you drown in your sorrows, and the two of you got pretty drunk. You could only remember bits and pieces of your conversation.
“Let’s get married if we’re still single by 30,” Jungkook suggests.
“You wanna marry me? But I’m such a mess.”
Your dating life, career, friends, and family were fine.
“Yeah, why not. We get along. You seem a little kinky in bed and make a mean spaghetti dish.”
“Is that all I’m good for? Sex and spaghetti?”
“That sounds like a bad porn film waiting to happen. No, but I'm serious. If we're still single, let’s get married.”
You wave him off. ��Kook, you’re drunk. You’re just saying whatever.”
“Yeah, I'm drunk, but I'm serious about this.”
He gets up, looks around, sees a straw wrapper, and ties it around your finger. He's on one knee before you.
“____, will you marry me? Hypothetically, of course, if we’re both still single by 30.”
You shake your head at your loveable friend. It was hard to say no. How could you?
“You’re so dumb.”
“See. You can write that in your vows,” Jungkook jokes, grinning from ear to ear.
“Well, you are pretty cute, and I can stand being around you,” you tease.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
You smack his arm. “Is this how you’re wooing your future wife?”
“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I can’t believe how beautiful my future wife is.”
You’re unsure if it’s the alcohol making you susceptible and vulnerable to your good friend asking you to marry him or if it was because you were on the rebound. But what’s the harm? If you couldn’t find someone by 30, then you’d get to marry a good friend.
“That's more like it. Why yes, Jeon Jungkook. I will marry you if I'm still single by 30.”
💖💖💖
You let out a cackle. “Oh shit–I agreed to that?”
Jungkook pouts and nods. “Sure did.”
But Jungkook’s messing around, right? He was a good friend and comforted you in your time of need. There’s no way he’d want to spend the rest of his life with you. Plenty of suitable women were fawning over him, and now you’ve noticed you've never seen him with a girlfriend.
“You’re–you’re not serious, are you?” You stumble over your words, going into panic mode.
Why would Jeon Jungkook choose you, of all people, to want to marry? He could have anyone at any time.
No, you shook off the thought. You couldn’t lock him into a loveless marriage.
Jungkook licks his lips, tongue flicking his lip ring back and forth.
You shifted in bed and cleared your throat. “Aren’t you seeing that one girl?”
It wasn’t hard to notice when she practically hung onto him like a lovesick puppy.
Jungkook makes a face, shaking his head. ���Nah, it’s nothing serious.”
You give him a blank expression. “Nothing serious? Kook, she’s practically foaming at the mouth and shooting heart eyes when you’re around.”
Jungkook chuckles. “That could be you, too.”
You narrow your eyes, glaring at him.
“Just saying,” he adds.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to get in the way if it is serious.” You surely didn’t want to become a homewrecker.
He waves his hand. “Oh, no, no, no. I don’t back down from promises I make.”
Your lips turn into a pout, and you tilt your head, wondering why he’d ditch Clingy Chloe and commit to a drunken promise. “What’s in it for you?”
He seems offended by your question, so he scoffs. “I mean, I’m just trying to save you from a future where you’re an old lady with 50 cats, collecting newspapers that pile up from the floor to the ceiling, and then you show up on an episode of Hoarders.”
You chuckle. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“You’re not?” he questions hesitantly.
“I mean, marriage is a pretty serious thing, and we’re friends getting married because we have no one else?” The sentiment seems ridiculous once you say it aloud.
“What? You don’t think I'll be a good husband?”
“No, I didn't say that. I think you’d be a great one, actually.”
“Then, what’s the problem? Don’t think you can handle me?” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows.
You roll your eyes at your cocky friend. “I don’t know, Kook. What if I meet someone, or what if you meet someone?”
“You don’t think I can make you fall in love with me?” he asks, ignoring your question.
Your nose scrunches, and you laugh. “No.”
“Oh, well, that sounds like a challenge, and you’re lucky I love a little competition.”
He’s not going to let this go, is he?
You settle into the plush of your pillows. “Okay–tell you what, if you can make me fall in love with you within the week, I’ll consider marrying you.”
What would you have to lose? Being wined and dined by a cute guy? What girl would pass up this opportunity?
“Deal.”
💖💖💖
monday.
Your everyday routine consists of rolling out of bed, logging into work, checking your emails, and then sitting on the couch until you get a support ticket from someone who forgot their password for the umpteenth time.
It’s a great gig, and now you’re glad you went into the right field of work.
You’re on your random binge of rewatching The Fast and the Furious saga. Your friends always make fun of you, but you can’t help it. It’s a guilty pleasure of yours.
“You got some sexy legs. When do they open?” Roman says with a grin.
You burst out laughing. The dialogue is so bad, yet somehow, these movies keep getting made. You must be the target audience.
The doorbell rings and it’s 8:30 AM. Who is here this early? You didn’t buy anything online while you were drunk, did you?
You peek through the viewfinder, and it’s blocked by something yellow. You can’t see the delivery person’s face when you open the door.
“Special delivery for ___,” the person says in a deep voice.
“That’s me.”
And out from behind the flowers, Jeon Jungkook pops out. “Happy birthday week,” he says in a sing-song voice.
Your heart settles when you realize it's your friend or future husband. “What are you doing here?”
You notice two grocery bags on the ground next to him. He hands you the flowers and picks them up.
“What do you think I’m doing here?” He raises his eyebrow, scanning you from head to toe.
Real clothes and makeup don’t exist when you're working from home.
“Cute slippers,” he points out as you stare at your fluffy white bunny slippers.
You sigh, grabbing his arm to drag him into your apartment. As you’re about to close the door, you notice moving boxes outside the apartment next to yours. Hmm, someone new must be moving in.
“Is this what you look like underneath all that makeup?” he asks, making himself comfortable in your kitchen. The two bags are on the counter, and he’s going through the cupboards to find a vase.
“Top left above the sink,” you say.
He opens the cupboard, retrieving a clear vase.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting company. Otherwise, I would’ve put on some decent clothing.”
And a bra, you think as you cross your arms, covering your chest.
Jungkook shakes his head. “You look good in anything, and with or without makeup. You’ll be my future wifey, so there’s no need to look for good me. We can just be comfortable with each other, right?”
You purse your lips and raise an eyebrow. He’s serious about this, isn’t he? You suppose you wouldn’t mind playing along to see how far he would go.
A man ready and willing to commit to marriage? You must be living in your romantic film.
You nod. “Right, we’re friends, possibly moving onto more than friends–well, actually, straight to marriage,” you chuckle, "but I’ve always felt comfortable around you, Kook.”
He flashes a warm smile. “Good, then everything will be easy, peasy lemon squeezy.”
He’s cute, you think.
“I hope you like mimosas,” he says as he unloads the groceries from the bags.
Bread, eggs, bacon, strawberries, orange juice, and champagne.
“Are you making me breakfast?” you question, narrowing your eyes at the man in the yellow beanie and white Nike shirt.
“Consider it your birthday breakfast, wifey,” he jokes, peering in your cupboards for a pan.
“Right side next to the oven.”
“Ah, I gotta remember this if I’m gonna be cooking here more often.” He whistles, setting the pan on the stove.
You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Don’t you have to work today?”
“Nah–called in sick. It’s my wife’s birthday week. I have to shower her with all the love.” He wiggles his eyebrows and puckers his lips.
It’s funny to see Jeon Jungkook act this way. He’s always been playful and flirty the two years you’ve known him, but this must’ve been his way of pulling out all his cards of wooing a woman.
💖💖💖
“Breakfast is ready,” Jungkook yells from the kitchen.
A support ticket from work came through, distracting you from your movie and Jungkook.
“‘Kay! Almost done.” You recheck your work emails, ensuring everything is complete.
This time, you put on a bra, change into a decent shirt, and put on a skin tint and blush to make yourself look alive.
You stroll into the kitchen, and Jungkook perfectly displays the sunflowers on the counter and two delicious breakfast plates. The champagne flutes are filled to the brim and topped off with a beautifully sliced strawberry.
“Thanks, Kook. This looks so yummy.”
He flashes a smile. “Anytime.”
The two of you sit beside each other, digging into the breakfast spread.
“What’s that one movie you wanted to watch again?” Jungkook asks before he sips his mimosa.
Your mouth is full, and you chew quickly to answer him. “The one on Netflix?” He hums. “Wedding Season.”
“Sounds like the perfect movie for us to watch this week.”
“You’re into rom-coms?”
“I love ‘em.”
“Shut up. You’re teasing me now.”
“I don’t know why you never ask me to watch them, but you’ll ask the girls.”
You look down at your food before catching his gaze. “I didn’t think you’d be into them, so I never asked. And you don’t seem like the hopeless romantic type.”
“I mean, growing up, I wasn’t. My parents didn’t have a fairytale romance, so I didn’t believe in love for a long time.”
You raise an eyebrow. “So, someone must’ve changed your mind then?”
He hums, not wanting to admit who made it an exception.
You nudge his arm. “Are you gonna tell me, or will I have to pry it out of you?”
He chuckles, not saying a word.
You scoff. “You’re not gonna tell me? Keeping secrets from your wife already? Rude,” you tut.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he replies.
The two of you finish breakfast, and Jungkook insists on doing the dishes. You set your plate in the sink and clutch onto his arm, tiptoeing to place a kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you.”
💖💖💖
tuesday.
You take the morning off to run errands for your upcoming birthday extravaganza. And you’re struggling to hit the lock button on your keypad while holding a heavy box of birthday decor.
When you finally hear the whirring of the lock and chime, you turn around, bumping into someone, dropping your box, and knocking over a handful of books.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there,” you say, quickly picking up as many books as possible, and he picks up your birthday decor.
The man reaches for the pink heart-shaped sunglasses and other pink-colored decor. “Someone must be celebrating big,” the man’s dimpled smile displayed.
Your fingers accidentally touch his when you switch his books for your decor. You clear your throat, trying not to ogle the man. “Um, yeah, it’s for my birthday.”
He perks up. “Oh?” He flashes a thin smile. “Happy birthday.”
A breath gets caught in your throat, and you struggle to get any words out. “Uh, my birthday is actually on Saturday,” you finally croak out. “But, you must be my new neighbor.”
“Yeah, I’m Namjoon. I just moved in this past weekend.”
Oh, this is bad. Really bad.
He’s tall, has beautiful tanned skin and blonde hair, and you could live in his dimples.
“It’s–it’s nice to meet you.”
“Sorry about bumping into you, and it’s nice to meet you too. I hope you have a good birthday,” he says before picking up one last book on the ground.
“Are you doing anything this weekend? You can come if you want.”
After you ask, you want to kick yourself in the bum. Inviting a man you just met. What if he’s a weirdo? But how can he be if he’s reading ‘A Bigger Message Conversations with David Hockney.’ You may have managed to peek at one of his books.
“Oh, no,” he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not intruding! I’m inviting you, and you can’t say no to the birthday girl,” you tease, adjusting the box in your arms.
A low chuckle escaped his lips. “You’re right. It’d be messed up to say no to the birthday girl.”
“So, you’ll come?” you ask, and a smile grows from ear to ear.
He nods. “Yeah, I’ll come.”
The two of you exchange information before you leave to finish your errands. You’re beaming down the street while carrying your box of decor.
You didn’t expect to find someone cute and endearing so quickly. And you’re surprised he said yes to your party. Maybe he’s new in town and wants to make friends. It would be a good way for him to get acquainted, and a part of you hoped you’d keep bumping into him in the halls.
💖💖💖
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:27 AM Wanna do a movie night today? We could watch Wedding Season.
You 11:30 AM Sounds like a date.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:35 AM Is 6 okay? I can bring dinner too.
You 11:36 AM That sounds perfect.
It's six on the dot, and you hear a knock on your door. You suppose Jungkook is the type to show up right on time, which you greatly appreciate.
He holds a six-pack of beer and a pizza box when you open the door.
"Ready for movie night?"
It’s halfway through the film, and you’re enjoying it. You love the fake dating trope because you could always count on the two mains to fall for each other.
"Are you cold?" Jungkook asks when he sees you tuck your hands in between your thighs.
"Yeah, kind of."
"Come here."
He opens his arm to cuddle, and you blink expressionless at him. The most intimate thing you’ve done with him is hug him–a side hug.
He laughs when you don’t move. “What? Scared I’ll bite?”
“No—it’s just that cuddling is an intimate thing to do,” you admit.
Arms and legs become entangled. Bodies are warming up against each other. Possibilities of things progressing.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Do you have a throw blanket somewhere?” He looks around and sees a woven basket next to the couch. He grabs a white fluffy throw for you.
Jungkook gives you an out, and for that, you’re grateful.
“Thanks,” you say as you snuggle in the blanket.
He flashes a small smile. “No problem.”
Even though you rejected Jungkook’s invitation to cuddle, somehow, by the end of the movie, the two of you had fallen asleep—cuddling.
You didn’t pull away from him yet. You peered up at him, watching his chest rise and fall. Light snores escape his lips, and now and again, he puffs out a breath like a whale coming up for air, making you chuckle.
You rest your chin on his chest, giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy this before waking him up.
“Kook,” you whisper, gently shaking him. “Kook,” you repeat.
He hums, popping his head up while his eyes are still closed. He flutters them open and immediately sits up, wiping the drool that’s dried on his chin. He clears his throat. “Um—how long was I asleep for?”
You giggle. “We both fell asleep. I blame the beer,” you say, stretching your arms.
Jungkook can’t help but notice the shiny piece of jewelry hanging from your navel. “You have your belly button pierced?” he asks with a raised brow.
You quickly pull down your shirt. “It was a dumb thing I did when I turned 21.”
“It’s cute.”
You shy away from his comment. At times, you forget you have it.
“What else are you hiding, hm?” Jungkook asks.
You scoff. “Nothing. I only have my ears and my belly button pierced.”
“No tattoos?”
Tattoos are cool on other people, and you toyed with the idea of getting one. You were indecisive about what to get.
You shook your head no. “Maybe one day.”
“Get one for your 30th. I’ll go with you. I know a guy,” he teases, pointing out the ink on his skin.
“You gonna hold my hand the entire time?”
He grins. “Anything for the wifey.”
A tattoo, huh? You’ve always wanted to see how high your pain threshold was. “I’ll think about it.”
“Just let me know, and I’ll get an appointment with the guy I always go to. I only trust him.”
Jungkook stands, proceeding to clean up the mess you two made.
“Oh, no. Leave it. I’ll clean it up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s late. We should get some sleep.”
He looks at the clock. It’s nearly midnight, and he still needs to wash up.
You walk him to the door, holding it open for him to leave. “Kook?”
Jungkook turns to you. “Yeah?”
You’re unsure what comes over you, but you pull him in for a hug. Only this time, it doesn’t feel like a friendly hug. It takes a moment for him to register what’s happening, then he wraps his arms around you. Every ounce of his body presses against yours, and you fit perfectly into him like a puzzle piece. His fresh, clean scent invades your nose, and you wish it could linger for a bit longer while his hand snakes to the nape of your neck, fingers curling in your hair.
Why do you feel more vulnerable when sleeping next to him now than earlier? Is it because you’re awake and aware of your intentions? The question was, what were your intentions? Did you want this? Did you really want him?
You withdrew from the embrace, bidding him farewell. He gives a small wave before disappearing into the elevator.
As you enter your apartment and shut the door, you repeatedly knocked the back of your head against it, muttering, ‘fuck.’ You were playing along to see how far Jungkook would go before calling it quits, but you failed to see that maybe—just maybe you could be falling too.
Hoseok’s minding his business, eating his ramen when he sees his roommate walk in. Jungkook looks like he’s floating on cloud nine, beaming from ear to ear. There’s even a hop in his step. He twirls around, daintily sitting beside Hoseok.
Hoseok scans his friend, watching him as he breathes a happy sigh and stares into the distance.
“What’s going on with you?” He raises a brow and narrows his eyes.
Jungkook giggles and scrunches his shoulders. “I just came back from cuddling with ___,” he says as he continues in his reveries.
“Oh, boy. Everyone, can I please have your attention,” Hoseok cups his mouth into a megaphone, “Jeon Jungkook has officially gone off the deep end. He thinks being delulu is the solulu.”
Jungkook glares at his friend and kicks him under the table. “Yah–aren’t you supposed to be rooting for me?”
Hoseok slurps his noodles. “Of course, I’m rooting for you. You’re my best bud,” he says as he places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he pats Hoseok’s hand. “Now–be an even better friend, and let me raid your closet for ___’s party.”
Jungkook lies in bed; his bicep flexes when he moves his hand behind his head. He’s watching an array of colors flash across the vastness of his room. The northern lights and stars twirl and sparkle like the movements of butterflies and the ones milling around his stomach for days.
Is this what being in love feels like, he thinks. It’s like he’s living in the romance movies he’s watched. Boy meets girl, boy, and girl fall in love, and they live happily ever after.
This is it. This must be it. His chance to be with you–the one he’s fallen completely head over heels for.
If the Jungkook from four years ago were to see him today, he’d laugh and call him a simp, especially with how he’s at your beck and call.
But the Jungkook, from four years ago, was a cynic. He had no healthy or loving relationships around him until he met you through Hoseok. And, even though you were with someone at the time, he saw how kind and wonderful you were to your friends and could only imagine the kind of love you’d show toward someone special.
There were only a few more days until your party, and he was determined to make each day count.
wednesday.
Since Monday, Jungkook has surprised you every day with a gift. They were his attempts to make you fall in love with you, along with his random trips to your place.
Today’s gift was a pair of pink seashell earrings. Jungkook tells you he spent hours making it from clay, then baked them in the oven. You shook your head, wondering how he got an idea like this. Nonetheless, it was a sweet gift.
He texted throughout the day, leaving cute words of encouragement or sending TikToks of funny videos he’d find. Maybe this was his love language, taking the time out of his day to let you know he’s thinking about you.
As your day winds down, you’re scrolling through YouTube, and what catches your eye at 7 p.m.? Dessert videos.
And that’s your worst toxic trait—thinking you can bake. It always looks easy enough. If they can do it, so can you.
That is, until you’re in the kitchen, halfway through a recipe, and notice you’re out of sugar. The grocery store is too far and will close when you get there.
See what happens when you decide to bake? It always goes differently than you want.
You could call Jungkook to see if he has any or walk over to your new neighbor’s place. The latter was plausible since Namjoon was only a few feet away.
You shook off the nerves, flattened your apron, and lightly knocked on Namjoon’s door. You could hear shuffling as he unlocked it.
Your eyes widened, standing like a deer caught in headlights. Namjoon’s half-naked, black shorts hung dangerously low on his waist. His forehead is glistening with sweat.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” you ask while trying to keep your gaze in line with his and not ogling his chiseled body.
Shit—maybe he had company over.
He cards his hand through his platinum blonde hair, but a few pieces fall back, covering his eyes. “No, you’re good. I just finished working out. What’s up?” he asks. His hand holds the door open as he leans against it.
You’re dumbfounded, unable to form words again. It’s like a giant hairball stuck in your throat.
Namjoon’s brows raise, and he calls out to you.
“Oh, sorry!” you say. “I’m attempting to bake a cake but I'm out of sugar. I wanted to ask if you have any I can borrow.”
“I think I do,” he ponders as he steps back. “Come in. Come in.”
You step into a squeaky clean apartment. Didn’t he just move in? How does someone unpack so quickly? Or maybe he had little to begin with.
His apartment was like a museum, with pottery, sculptures, and art prints adorning his walls and shelves. But what catches your attention is the translucent, cylindrical coffee table. It doesn’t seem like anyone should be putting anything on it.
Namjoon stands beside you, holding a jar of sugar.
“Ah, thank you so much! Now my cake batter won’t go to waste.”
“Anything catch your fancy?” he asks.
Granted, this man is still half-naked, standing beside you. You’re trying not to go feral over how broad and built he is.
“This, actually,” you point to the glass coffee table.
“That’s probably one of my most prized possessions.”
“It looks expensive.” You’d later come to find out it was worth $1.2M after you did an internet search.
“It is,” he chuckles. “It’s on loan from a friend.”
“On loan?” you ask, turning to him. Your eyes narrow and lips thin. “Can I ask what you do for work?”
“I’m an art curator.”
That makes sense now, considering the expensive and extensive art collection.
“Oh—you’re so fancy,” you tease. “I don’t know shit about art.” You could stand before a painting and feel nothing while looking at it. Maybe you were just going in with the wrong mindset.
Namjoon chuckles. “You can always ask me questions,” he notes before walking away to put on a t-shirt.
You’re a bit disappointed that you can’t ogle him anymore.
“Well, I can’t ask you questions if you don’t take me to a museum,” you flirt, turning toward him.
He grins, showing off his pearly whites and dimple deeply etched into his left cheek. “Are you asking me to ask you out on a date?”
You can’t help but play dumb. “Oh no, of course not! I would like your expertise to guide me around a museum, and if we happen to eat afterward, then I don’t know—would you call that a date?”
Namjoon licks his lips and nods, impressed by your boldness. “Are you busy Friday night?”
The cake wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either. You’d have to keep perfecting it and maybe keep asking to ‘borrow’ some sugar from your neighbor.
You debated whether you should tell Jungkook about your date with Namjoon. It’s a harmless date; Jungkook would be off the hook if it goes well. Besides, it’s a silly agreement you two made up while drunk.
But, you’d sleep on it and figure it out tomorrow. There was one more day before the date anyway.
As you were sitting in bed, doing your nightly scrolling through social media. A video call comes through.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call
You're on your side when you answer his call. “Hey, Kook,” you say before covering a yawn.
“Ready for bed?” he asks, shuffling underneath his duvet.
Your eyes scan the screen, and you notice his bare shoulders and collarbone on display. You never realized his tattooed sleeve reached so high on his arm, scantily kissing the top of his shoulder.
You cleared your throat. "Yeah, about to call it a night. What's up?"
"I just wanted to call and see how your day was. I was busy at work, so I didn't get to text you," he says.
Now that you think about it, the last text you received from him was this morning. And since the start of your little agreement, Jungkook has been texting and calling more than usual.
"I worked, then attempted to bake a cake."
He props the phone against something as he lies on his side, and parts of his hair still look damp from a shower. And you hate how cuddly he looks while he’s in bed and how you can see how much he works out just from the outline of his arms.
And no—you aren’t thinking about anything else.
"How'd it turn out?"
You shook your head in disgust. "Not very good."
"Ah, I'm sure it was great."
"I'll stick to store-bought cake for now."
"Next time, we can do it together and fail."
He wants to do everything with you, huh?
You chuckle at his comment and then say what’s on your mind, "I never realized how far your tattoo sleeve went up."
He peers at his shoulder. "Oh yeah," he leans forward to show you, his bicep flexing as he moves.
"Cool guy."
He chuckles. "Hardly cool. Just bored," he says. "So, should I schedule you for your tattoo?"
Since the last conversation, you've been scrolling through Pinterest and Instagram to get some ideas.
"I think I want the birth flower for September."
Jungkook shows you his arm, pointing to his tiger lily tattoo. "This one is for the actual day of birth, but the flower for the month of September is pretty too. Have you thought about placement?"
"Mm, maybe on the back of my neck or the inside of my arm. What do you think?" You show him your arm, then the back of your neck.
"It would look great on the back of your neck. It could be a nice surprise when you have your hair up."
"Oh–I like that idea."
He props himself up on the side with a wide grin. "So, I'm booking your appointment?"
You chuckle. "Yeah, why not? We only live once, right?"
Turning 30 is making your confidence go up.
“Once you get one, you’ll want more. Trust me.”
“At least I’ll have a tattoo buddy for life,” you tease.
“Ah, see, I like the way you’re thinking. Well, I should let my wifey get to sleep,” he gives a small smile. He reaches for his phone, placing it on his chest. His other hand is behind his head as he watches you through the screen.
You hum in agreement. “Night.”
“Night.”
Daydreams are one thing, and when Jungkook lies in bed, he can't help but wonder.
Wonder how you’d look in his favorite t-shirt. Wonder which side of the bed you prefer. Wonder if you dream of him, too. Wonder what it’s like to be loved by you.
Jungkook doesn’t want to wonder anymore; he wants to make you his reality.
thursday.
The birthday festivities started early for you as you requested today and tomorrow off. There’s no way you’re spending your last few days of being 29 stuck at work.
Today’s agenda consisted of a pedicure. The toes have to look cute with your new heels, and as you’re ready to head out to your appointment, Jungkook is at your door when you open it.
You tilt your head, knitting your eyebrows together. “Did we have something planned?”
He shakes his head no and pouts. “No, I wanted to surprise you with another gift.”
He hands you a gift bag, and you take a small peek, reaching down to grab the gift. You pull out a peach-shaped heart bath bomb.
“Peach?” You raise a brow and give a smug grin. “What makes you think I like peach?”
Jungkook snorts. “Oh, pfft–I don’t know. Could it be all the candles or soap? Or how you always order any type of peach-flavored alcohol? Tea? Or–”
You suck in your lips, then give a thin smile. “Son of a peach.”
“Very cute. You’re also great at fruit puns. I’ll add that to the list of reasons why I like you,” he chuckles.
To be fair, everything in your apartment had a hint of peach–your candles, air freshener, hand soap, ChapStick, and not to mention a cupboard full of peach tea.
You chuckle. “Thanks, Kook. You didn’t have to.”
“I do if I’m trying to make you fall in love with me.”
You set the bath bomb back in its bag, then on the entryway table. You close the door behind you, forcing him to step back.
“You talk a lot about making me fall in love with you, but you’ve still failed to do so. It’s almost my birthday,” you tease.
What girl wouldn’t want gifts, but you thought he’d push a bit harder.
Jungkook smirks, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He steps closer to you–close enough for you to smell his cologne. It’s a fresh, clean scent.
He’s inches away from you. Warmth is radiating off of him. Your heart is practically beating out of your chest. Your eyes are on his, then focus on his lip ring, then the freckle underneath his bottom lip. It’s the first time you’ve been close enough to notice it.
His eyes dart back and forth between yours. His tongue wets his lips, then plays with his ring. “I’m just getting started,” he says.
You close your eyes, fluttering them back open. There’s relief escaping your body once he backs away.
“So, what are we doing today?” he asks, stepping out of the way to let you lead.
“I have a pedicure appointment. Wanna come?” you ask. You wouldn’t mind having company around, and you’re curious how he’ll continue to sweep you off your feet.
You feel bad for the poor woman who has Jungkook in her seat, and you’re trying your best not to laugh as he’s squirming, clutching onto the armrests.
You clear your throat. “Is this your first pedicure?”
“What? No,” he counters, but he’s giggling non-stop, holding on for dear life.
“Sir–I need you to stop moving,” the woman warns.
You cover your mouth. Your shoulders are bouncing due to your giggles. “Kook, she hasn’t even done anything to you yet.”
“How the hell do women do this? This is torture.”
“Can’t handle a little torture?”
He perks up, shaking off the chills. The woman continues to scrub his feet with a pumice stone. He’s sucking in his lips, trying not to laugh and smile when she gets to the underside of his foot. Then his reflexes get the best of him, and he almost kicks her.
The woman gives him a blank expression but is professional and continues as fast as possible.
An hour later, Jungkook is coming out of the nail salon, sweating bullets from the endless torture of a pedicure.
You look at him and then his toes. “At least your toes are cute.” He let you choose the color, and you had to choose hot pink to match your birthday theme for this weekend.
He does the walk of shame in a pair of yellow flimsy flip-flops because he wasn’t prepared for a pedicure. You’ve been there, done that.
You link your arms to him when you catch up to him. “Hungry?”
Jungkook groans in delight. “You have to try this.”
He leans forward. A piece of his roasted chicken ravioli covered in pink sauce looks delectable. You open your mouth, devouring the pasta. You close your eyes, savoring it.
“See, what did I tell you?” He smiles, going back to his bowl of food. “How’s yours?”
You didn’t want to say you didn’t like it–but you hate it. “It’s good,” you smile and lie through your teeth.
You begin moving the ravioli around, pretending to make it look like you'll eat it.
Jungkook sets his fork down, pushing his bowl toward you. “Here, take mine.”
You look up at him. “What? No–I like my food,” you lie again, grabbing your bowl and clutching it closer to you.
He deadpans. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you don’t like something. Come on, I’ll finish your food, and you can have mine.”
You let go of your bowl. “Are you sure?”
Jungkook smiles warmly, his small dimple on display as he nods. He grabs your bowl and begins to eat it.
Your heart softens, and you’re enchanted by your friend/potential future husband, so it pains you to have this conversation. You tossed and turned the night before because you couldn’t bear the thought of locking your friend into something he'll regret later on.
“So, you might not have to marry me,” you say.
Jungkook looks up at you, tilting his head in confusion. “Damn, someone beat me to it?” he jokes.
You flash a thin smile and shake your head no. “Well, I have a crush on my new neighbor.”
He raises an eyebrow. “New neighbor?”
You nod. “Yeah, he just moved in.”
Jungkook nibbles on the inside of his mouth then continues to eat. “You barely know the guy, and you’re already tossing me aside?” He tuts, shaking his head.
“I’m–I’m not tossing you aside. You’re still an option, but I’m just saying if it works out with the new neighbor, then you’re off the hook. I'm sure there are better girls out there than me, Kook. You don’t want to be married to me.”
He sets his fork down, pushing his bowl forward. “Well, what can I say? You can’t see the guy?”
“So, you’re okay if I see him?”
Jungkook hesitates to answer. “Mm,” he hums with a nod.
“Are you upset with me?”
“Why would I be upset?” He shrugs. “I’m only a back-up.”
His answer gives you a sense of relief, but you also feel guilty about everything. “Should we end our little deal? That way, you don’t have to be stuck with me for the rest of your life. It seems silly now that we’re both sober and not drunk making promises like this.”
He hums and nods again. “You’re right. It does seem foolish.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin. "I'll go pay while you finish up."
You watch him get up and walk to the register. His demeanor changes as soon as you mention ending the deal.
Is he serious about this?
Honestly, you’re stumped by Jeon Jungkook and his intentions. If he did like you, why not ask you out like an average person? Why go through the trouble of marrying you? So that you could fulfill some silly goal you had for your life?
“I’ll walk you up,” Jungkook says as he turns off the car.
“It’s fine, Kook. You don’t have to,” you counter.
On the ride back, guilt has been eating you from the inside out. You’re unsure why you feel this way–maybe because you feel like a shitty friend. Saying one thing and then doing another.
But again, marriage is a serious thing for two people to consider.
Jungkook doesn’t waver in his decision and escorts you anyway. The silence is deafening in the elevator; the two of you stand at opposite sides, stealing glances. There’s an elephant in the room, but neither of you addresses it.
When the elevator doors open, you expel the caught breath in your throat. Jungkook follows a few steps behind you.
“Are we okay?” you ask, glancing at him before lowering your head.
He stuffs his hand in his pants pocket. “Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”
“I don’t know. I feel like an ass because you’ve been such a good friend–especially after my breakups. And then this past week, you’ve been sweet and cute with all the little gifts and hangouts,” you pause to look at him.
His eyes are big and innocent, and his lips form a slight pout. He’s intently listening to your words.
“I’m trying to say I’ve enjoyed being with you this week, and I’m sorry how things turned out,” you manage to spit out.
Jungkook nibbles on his lip, showing off his pretty dimple. His eyes dart to yours as he flashes a thin smile. “Well, I’ll always be your back-up if this guy doesn’t work out.”
You breathe a sigh of relief that he can still joke about this situation. You close the distance between you, reaching up and draping your arms around his neck.
It takes a moment for him to return your hug, but he does–wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing you into him. He nuzzles in the crook of your shoulder, taking in your sweet scent and softness.
Your heart’s fluttering, your stomach is somersaulting and doing back-flips. Jungkook’s warmth is all-encompassing, encapsulating every fiber of your being. Neither of you let go, allowing this embrace to go longer than usual friends do.
When you pull away, your lips are so close to his. Close enough to explore what they taste like. Close enough to see how plush they are. Close enough to find out just how much you’d have to gasp for air afterward.
You almost want to give in. You almost want to see where this could go. You almost want him to make a move.
Jungkook whispers your name, and you hum, gazing into his eyes. “Are you sure about this? About the deal? You don’t want it anymore?”
You're becoming lost in the stars and galaxies contained in those doe eyes. Jungkook doesn’t lose focus, doesn’t break character, and doesn’t give you a chance to run away.
“This stops when you say so,” he utters softly.
He’s unrelenting, you think. He wants this, doesn’t he? He wants you.
So these next few words sting. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
Jungkook doesn’t even realize when he’s outside his apartment complex. He sits in his car, zoning out. He’s so close to finally getting you, but now there’s someone else?
For two years, he’s been trying to buck up the courage and finally ask you out, and when he finally gets an opportunity, someone always swoops in and steals you away.
When he proposed the agreement, it was more of a joke, that is, until you agreed, and that’s when he knew he’d try whatever it took to get you to the altar.
A knock on Jungkook’s window breaks him from deep thought. He looks up to see his roommate, Hoseok.
He gestures for Jungkook to roll his window down. “Why do you look like you're on the verge of crying? Why don’t you go up to the apartment?”
Jungkook holds onto the steering wheel and groans as his head hits it a few times, muttering, ‘Stupid.’
Hoseok knits his eyebrows in confusion as he rubs his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go,” he says, opening the car door.
Jungkook drags his feet through the threshold and drops his backpack on the floor. He continues walking sluggishly, plopping on the couch, still in a daze.
Hoseok blinks at his friend. “What’s going on?”
“You know how I was trying to make ____ fall in love with me this week?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, she likes her new neighbor.”
Hoseok’s eyes widened. “There's a new guy already? I swear this girl must have some kind of bat signal that’s beaming up into the sky that attracts men the second she’s single.”
Jungkook drops his head back, then rubs his face. “What am I going to do?”
Hoseok shrugs. “Maybe tell her how serious you are about being with her.”
“Yeah, but what if she doesn’t want to be with me?”
“So, you’re going to trap her in a marriage instead?” Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “Make it make sense, my friend.”
Maybe that's what he wanted. It could be like an arranged marriage. Meet first, then fall in love.
“I know it sounds ridiculous!”
Hoseok rubs Jungkook’s shoulder. “This whole deal is ridiculous. Be honest with her, then she’ll have to choose between you and the new guy.”
He knows Hoseok is right. He should be honest and tell you how he feels.
Or he could get rid of the new guy, and the deal would be back on.
Decisions. Decisions.
friday.
Jungkook was determined to make this agreement work out in his favor. He wasn’t going to back down so easily.
He took off early from work, going straight to your favorite bakery to grab a cake. Thoughts are racing through his mind as he clutches the cake box and walks through the crowded street.
What if this was his last chance? What if this new guy was ‘the one’ for you? He couldn’t let you slip away again.
He’s even prepared a monologue. He’s mumbling it under his breath when he arrives at your door.
When the door opens, he doesn’t find you. Instead, he finds a half-naked man with broad shoulders and impeccable pecs.
Jungkook stands tall and puffs out his chest, back straight, when he sees this unknown man. His mouth is agape as he scans him from head to toe. Was this the guy you were talking about?
He clears his throat and stands his ground. “Oh, uh, who are you?”
“Hey, man. I’m Namjoon. ___’s neighbor,” he says.
“I’ll be right out!” you yell from the other room.
Jungkook clenches his jaw, and he’s trying to calm his nerves. There’s no way you were sleeping with this guy already, right? No, you can’t be, Jungkook shakes the thought from his head.
You sprint from the hallway, holding a shirt. With your clumsy ways, you spilled iced coffee on Namjoon’s shirt right before your date. You felt bad, so you offered to wash it for him.
“Namjoon, I’m so sorry! I’ve tried everything to get it out. I might have to buy you a new shirt–oh,” you gasp. “Hi, Jungkook.”
Jungkook walks in, setting the box down, and he doesn’t say anything else as he leans against the counter, watching you two.
Namjoon sucks in his lips, strolling to your side, looking at his stained shirt. “Don’t worry about it. It was time to get rid of that shirt anyway.” He gives a reassuring smile. “I’m gonna grab a new shirt, then we’ll be on our way?”
You hum. “See you soon.”
Jungkook’s eyes follow you and Namjoon as you bid him farewell. You lower your head and purse your lips when you approach Jungkook.
“Date night?” he asks, turning to you.
“Yeah,” you whisper.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your date. Just wanted to drop off a cake I picked up for you,” he points to the box on the counter.
You see the bakery's name on the box, and it’s from your favorite place. You undo the tabs and unfold the box to reveal a heart-shaped cake with various shades of baby pink and blue, then sitting prettily on top is one of your favorite Sanrio characters: Cinnamoroll.
“Kook–you didn’t just pick this up.” A cake like this was ordered well in advance.
His eyebrows rise, and he gives a half-smile. He walks beside you. “Happy early birthday,” he says as his eyes flick to yours. “See you tomorrow.”
When the door shuts, you wince.
Namjoon has a brilliant mind, and that intimidates you. He's far too intelligent and reasonable for a hopeless romantic who lives in their daydreams and wants a ring on their finger by tomorrow.
The two of you come to a crowded spot in the museum. You look back and smile at Namjoon. He puts his hands on your waist, guiding you from behind. Your stomach somersaults from the affection, but you continue leading the way through the sea of people, trying not to focus on it.
An announcement reminds museum go-ers that they’ll be closing in 15 minutes.
“Should we head out soon?” you ask with disappointment. You thoroughly enjoyed hearing Namjoon talk even though you had nothing insightful to say about the numerous art pieces.
The corners of his mouth curve up. “But we have one more exhibit to see,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. He holds out his hand for yours.
You’re intrigued, so you don’t question and place your hand in his.
Everyone starts to file out toward the exit, but the two of you enter an exhibit hidden away in the back.
“Aren’t we going to get in trouble?” you ask.
He chuckles. “You’re cute,” he says before showing you his work ID and security badge.
“Oh,” you giggle. It makes sense. Namjoon did say he was an ‘art curator.’ He just never mentioned where he worked.
“Feel free to look around and tell me if anything catches your eye.”
You take your time, roaming around, going from piece to piece. Namjoon stays in place, waiting until you’ve found something. You tilt your head, examining the drawing.
[ frida castelli, milan ]
It's a woman. Her back is bare, and she's curling her hands into the bedsheets. The drawing is cut off right at the small of her back, and one can assume the rest. It's erotic–as this exhibit displays various works from modern artists.
Namjoon stands beside you. “Thoughts?”
Horny, you think, but considering this is your first date. You probably shouldn’t blurt it out.
“I like the position she's in,” you say, and Namjoon chokes on nothing. You cover your mouth and can’t help but laugh.
“I like that position too,” he adds.
You try to suppress your smile because now, you’re thinking about the two of you in that position.
"Should we keep looking?"
After a late-night dinner, you’re standing outside your door, not wanting to say goodbye to Namjoon. You’d invite him in, but tomorrow’s a big day, and you have an early wake-up call.
“I hope I was able to answer your questions,” Namjoon says, leaning his shoulder against the door, facing you.
You give him a small smile, looking at the floor, then back up at him. "I think you answered everything."
He hums and parts his lips. "Well, I have one question for you, if that's okay."
You nod.
"Can I give the birthday girl a kiss?"
You lick your lips. "It's not my birthday yet."
Namjoon steps forward, scanning your face. "You can consider it an early birthday present."
"Well, I won't say no to a birthday present."
Your heart is swooning over this tall, handsome man. He’s perfect. He's brilliant and well-spoken. Someone secure and confident, even emotionally available. You’d be a fool not to want this to go further.
Your gaze darts back and forth between his eyes and his lips, unsure how to respond. You've been wondering what they taste like all night and want to kiss the freckle underneath his lip. They look so rosy and pillowy, almost like kissing a cloud.
He softly presses his lips against yours. His big hands cup your face. His nose brushes against your cheek. His lips encapture your top lip, then your bottom. He lingers briefly before pulling away, his lips ghosting over yours, and you want to return for more–you’re not done.
“Do that again,” you whisper.
His breath is warm, and he smiles before going back in, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Your hands are placed on his taut chest, fingers curling and tugging on his shirt. The butterflies in your stomach are yearning for a way out. The desire in you grows deeper. You’re breathless at this point, but you don’t care if you never breathe again.
First kisses always make you go weak in the knees, and you wish you could experience them over and over.
“Your lips are stained,” you notice when you pull away.
Namjoon chuckles; his thumb swipes at his bottom lip. “That’s okay.”
He moves in to kiss you again, but you stop him by putting your index finger to his lips. “The birthday girl should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”
You render him speechless—he made the first move, but you’ll have the final say.
You bid goodbye to him, trying your best not to linger and give in to your urges. Peering through the viewfinder, you see him smiling and shaking his head before he closes the door to his place.
You’re grinning from ear to ear as your back is against the door. The date couldn’t have gone better–though you probably couldn’t write a dissertation on Modern Art in Korea, you appreciated that he took the time to explain what he loves and why he’s so passionate about it.
Maybe he could be the one.
It’s midnight when you’re under the covers and still glowing from your date with Namjoon.
You check your phone to see text messages from Jungkook.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 9:22 PM Hey! I found some cool birth flowers. Do you like any of these? [ 5 images attached ]
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 9:27 PM And my tattoo guy had a last-minute cancellation for Monday at 6 p.m. I’m gonna book you for it, okay?
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 10:05 PM I can go to hold your hand if you’d like.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:11 PM I hope you had a good day. See you tomorrow, birthday girl.
This differed from how you wanted to celebrate your birthday week, especially not how you envisioned your friendship with Jungkook. Did you ruin it?
And that’s when your heart aches as you reflect on this past week. Jungkook has been so sweet, and you feel like the worst friend. Could he be into you, and you’re blind to notice?
But what about Namjoon? He’s undoubtedly checked off all the boxes you could want in a partner.
Plus, Jungkook’s just a back-up.
saturday.
The sun is peeking through, and the birds are chirping away. You’ve slept through your alarm because you’re still in dreamland.
You’re unsure who’s in bed with you. All you hear is a groan and shuffling as they reposition themselves. You peer over your shoulder, quickly turning away when they pull themselves closer to you. Then, as an arm comes into view, draping over you, you recognize the inked skin.
It’s Jungkook.
A buzz from your phone and a bang at the door awakens you. Missed notifications of calls and texts from Jenn, your best friend, flood your screen.
You sprint to the door, unlocking and opening it for her.
“Jesus Christ—I thought you were dead,” Jenn says after she brushes past you, setting several bags on your kitchen counter.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine, babe,” she blinks, giving you the once-over. “You haven’t showered, have you?”
You shake your head no.
“Well, go! It’s your birthday, but we can’t wait all day for you.” She shoos you off to the bathroom.
When you’re out of the shower, Jenn’s sitting in front of your vanity, putting on her blush.
“So, how are you doing, babe? Still not over Theodore Boner?”
“Bonner,” you correct her.
You adjust your towel, tucking it securely. “There’s been some new developments,” you say, walking to your dresser.
Jenn slowly turns around. “Please don’t tell me you’re back with him? He was a walking red flag. Well, at the end of your relationship anyway.”
You press your lips together, shaking your head. “You know that time I was upset about my break-up with Jimin?”
Jenn hums and narrows her eyes.
“Jungkook and I went out and got pretty drunk.”
She leans forward. “Uh-huh.”
You cleared your throat. “I may have agreed that if Jungkook and I were still single by 30, we’d get married.” You turned around, opening the top drawer in search of cute underwear.
Jenn’s jaw drops. “You’re not going to marry Jeon Jungkook, are you?”
You laugh it off. “No, of course not! But he’s always been there for me after my break-ups.”
“Oh, how convenient that he also happens to be single by your 30th birthday,” she says dryly.
“Jungkook’s been a good friend, and if we were to get married, and that’s a big if, then honestly, I think we’d be pretty good together,” you explain.
You're not sure if you're attempting to persuade Jenn or yourself. You’re not going to lie. You’ve toyed with the idea this whole week.
“Why don’t you just date Jungkook then?” she asks, returning to add more blush to her cheeks.
You nibble on your bottom lip. “Err–well, because there’s a new guy.”
She whips her head back around. “I go on a solo trip, and you have not one but two guys who want to be with you?”
“Technically, I told Jungkook that if things work out with me and Namjoon, he doesn’t have to marry me.”
“Namjoon?”
“Yeah, he’s my new neighbor.”
“Shut up! Your neighbor?” Jenn stands, sprinting out your bedroom door. “Which apartment? I need to see this man.”
“Jenn!” You run after her, clutching her arm, trying to pull her back. “Stop it, will you? He’ll be at the party tonight.”
Jenn turns to you. “Babe–you have Jungkook and new neighbor guy vying for your attention? Sheesh. When can I be the main character?”
You grip your towel and drag her back to your room.
“At least tell me more juicy details,” she whines.
Jungkook checks himself out in the mirror. Hot pink usually is not part of his wardrobe color, but he does it in a heartbeat if it involves you and your silly antics.
He slips the hot pink denim jacket over his white shirt and matching pink cargo trousers. He adds a neon green necklace to finish off his look.
This outfit is Ken-esque, right? He sighs, wishing you could be the Barbie to his Ken.
His roommate, Hoseok, knocks on his door, breaking his focus. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
Jungkook nibbles the inside of his cheek. This week’s been a rollercoaster of emotions for him. He was at an all-time high before you broke the news that you no longer need a back-up.
He’s gone back and forth, debating whether to fight for you or give up.
"I don't know yet," Jungkook responds. He glances at Hoseok through the mirror's reflection.
“Tell her how you feel. Be honest with her,” Hoseok says. He’s been telling Jungkook for two years now.
Jungkook turns around. “I can’t–” he pauses and huffs a breath, taking a seat on the bed.
Hoseok narrows his eyes and crosses his arms as he leans against the door frame. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve done too much shit by breaking up her relationships. She’ll never forgive me,” Jungkook explains.
Hoseok choked on nothing. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Remember Jimin and Theo?”
Hoseok hums.
Jungkook clears his throat. “I may or may not have told some harmless lies that ended up in them breaking up with her.”
Hoseok huffs out a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why you didn’t tell her right off the bat that you wanted to date her.”
“I’m an idiot, that’s why, and now it’s too late. She doesn’t want me. She wants the neighbor guy.”
Hoseok sits by his friend. “It’s either now or never. You can’t keep breaking up her relationships because you’re too scared to be in a real one with her. You don’t want to start it off that way.”
Jungkook flings himself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. “I know! I’ve just never done this before. I don’t know how to act. She’s the first person I’ve had actual feelings for.”
Hoseok blinks at his friend, ready to say something, but Jungkook interrupts him. “Don’t say shit about that–many people don’t meet the right person until later in life.”
He holds his hands up in defeat. “There’s no judgment from me, my friend. Just consider my words before anyone gets hurt.”
You swipe the lip tint across your bottom lip and repeat with the top. Glancing in the mirror, you adjust your dusty rose dress and tie your matching ribbon in your hair.
The theme for tonight's party is Barbie core, and individuals are encouraged to wear any shade of pink. You’re ridiculous, but you only turn 30 once–why not go all out?
Buckets of bubbly are filled with rosé bottles and floral ice cubes. Barbie-esque props, including heart-shaped sunglasses and cut-out foam lips, are ready to be used at the photo booth. You’ve spent too much time on Pinterest planning the perfect celebration.
It’s ten to seven and still too early for people to show, so you order a Malibu Barbie cocktail at the bar. Jin, the bartender, even tops off your drink with pink sanding sugar for this special occasion and throws in a little peach schnapps.
“There’s the birthday girl.”
When you turn around, you see Jungkook in a bright pink attire. Not every day you see him dressed in anything other than black or white, so you consider this a rare treat.
He offers you a warm hug, and you both act as if nothing has changed. It’s not like you’ve seen him every day as he’s dropped off gifts for you, or he willingly watched a rom-com and definitely hadn’t cuddled.
It’s like you’ve gone back to being just friends.
As you withdraw, you give him the once-over. “You look great in hot pink. I wish I got to see your matching toes.”
Jungkook chuckles. “I don’t think sandals would go with this outfit.”
You shake your head no.
“You look amazing,” he adds, taking your hand and making you twirl for him.
“Thanks, Kook,” you grin. Your hand lingers in his as he delicately caresses your skin. The back of your neck is warming up, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve made a mistake breaking off your deal.
“Ah, there’s our Barbie girl!” Jenn exclaims as she approaches you. Immediately, you let go of Jungkook’s hand.
“Hey!” you answer, rubbing the back of your neck. “What’s up? Did you need something?”
Jenn raises her brow at you and Jungkook. “I did, but you’re busy with Ken, so I’ll ask Hoseok to help me. Enjoy your night, babe.”
You take your drink and dash off with Jenn, telling Jungkook you’ll see him later. As you stroll behind her, you loop your arm around hers.
“Are you okay?” Jenn narrows her eyes, suppressing a smile.
You clear your throat. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It looks like you and loverboy were having a moment there before I interrupted,” she says, setting down the flower vase on the dessert table.
“He’s not my loverboy. I’m gonna start seeing Namjoon, remember?”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. Look–all I’m saying is you should give Jungkook a chance. Anyone could tell he’s head over heels in love with you.”
You choke on your drink. “What? How come no one’s ever told me?”
Jenn laughs. “I never put two and two together until you mentioned your little agreement with him this morning,” she pauses, cupping your face. “And my sweet, innocent Barbie girl, he shoots heart eyes whenever you’re around.” She holds your chin, turning you in Jungkook’s direction.
Jungkook is leaning on the bar, attempting to find the perfect stance to appear cool, but he has no idea what to do with himself. He peers in your direction, catching your gaze, and quickly turns away, waving down the bartender.
She continues, “You’ve been with so many knockoff Kens that you were blind to the real one. He’s a bit of a goofball, but he seems sweet, and like you mentioned today, he’s always around when you’re in need.”
What if your decision was a mistake? Would it be too late to change your mind? You were sure Jungkook had already moved on after being rejected.
You watch while Jungkook drinks something–you figure it's vodka. A shot for yourself seems enticing, simply to settle your anxieties.
Your birthday is supposed to be filled with joy, laughter, and celebration, not you being torn between two great guys.
The party is in full swing–the music’s blaring, friends laughing, chattering, drinking away. Everyone has arrived except for the one person you've been looking for: Namjoon.
You giggle when you scan the room and see Hoseok and Jungkook dancing in the corner. When your eyes catch him, he gestures for you to come dance, but you haven’t had enough alcohol to make a fool of yourself.
He sprints to you, grabbing your hand and dragging you along. “You need a drink before you dance, huh?”
Your lips thin, and you think, how does he know you so well?
You nod and follow him from behind. You stare blankly as his hands are loosely intertwined with yours. He’s leading you through the crowd, letting go once you’re at the bar’s counter.
“Do you still want that pink drink thingy you had earlier?”
“Surprise me,” you say.
“Two Pink Cadillacs, please,” he says to Jin.
As Jin gets to work on your drinks, Jungkook makes small talk to kill time.
“Are you having fun?” he asks, standing before you. He sways to the song's beat, grinning from ear to ear.
You’d have more fun if you weren’t thinking about him and Namjoon all night. Considering that Namjoon hasn’t even shown up yet, you appreciate that Jungkook’s a sweet and caring friend.
“I’ll be having more fun once I have this drink,” you say over the music.
“You’re not having fun with me?” he jokes, holding out his hand for yours, and of course, you take it.
He draws you to him, makes you twirl around, and then dips you. A slight squeal escapes your lips when you come back up.
Jungkook chuckles. “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“No, I’m–I’m having a good time,” you answer his previous question.
“Are you sure? It looks like something’s on your mind,” Jungkook notes. "You can always talk to me, you know."
Even after breaking off your agreement, he's still willing to be a good friend to you. How'd you get so lucky with someone like him?
"I know," you smile, draping your arms around his neck.
"Two Pink Cadillacs."
You break away from him, grabbing your drink. The two of you sip on them, watching the crowd.
"Jungkook, one. Hot sexy neighbor, zero," Jenn whispers in your ear before walking away.
You clench your jaw and narrow your eyes at her. It’s been an hour, and Namjoon is still nowhere to be seen. Maybe something came up. Things happen. You get it.
"What's going on with Jenn?" he asks.
"Nothing," you reply as you move to stand before him. "You know how she is."
Jungkook takes another sip of his drink. “Hey, can I talk to you about something?”
Your eyes widen and flick to him. Have you been obvious about what’s on your mind?
“Yeah, of course–” you say before a hand slides on the small of your back. You turn to see the man who’s been MIA, Namjoon.
“Hey, birthday girl. I’m sorry I’m late! It was a lot harder to find a pink outfit than I thought,” Namjoon chuckles, then he sees that he may have interrupted something. “Oh–hey, man! Jungkook, right?”
Jungkook gives a small smile, and you mouth, ‘Sorry.’
“Can I steal you away for a second?” Namjoon asks, and you oblige.
Namjoon takes your hand, ready to drag you off, but you stop and return to Jungkook. “Can we talk later?”
He nods. “Yeah, of course. It’s your birthday. Go have fun. I’ll talk to you later.”
Jungkook looks on as you and Namjoon disappear. You laugh when he says something, and Jungkook can hear it–you always let out a tiny squeak, your shoulders bounce, and you cover up your mouth because you don't like how your teeth show when you laugh.
He rubs the back of his neck. He’ll have to find time to talk to you later.
Hoseok nudges Jungkook. “Who’s that?”
Jungkook sips his drink and inhales sharply. “Her neighbor.”
“They look pretty cozy to me,” Hoseok remarks. “Go say something before it’s too late.”
It’s already too late, Jungkook thinks. He’s lost you again. What’s the point if he tried with you and you didn’t want him?
He chugs the drink and orders another round for him and Hoseok. He might as well enjoy the booze while he can–at least it would get you off his mind.
Jungkook's vision is blurred, speech slurred. Even though he sees double, his gaze is still fixed on you and Namjoon, following you wherever you go: the photo booth, the bar, the dance floor. Namjoon’s hands haven’t left you, whether holding your hand or soft touches on the small of your back.
It should be him, he thinks, but he’s been turned down before. He couldn't imagine being rejected twice.
He leans on a high-top table, rhythmically tapping his fingers against it. A few of your friends drag you off to the photo booth for the umpteenth time tonight, and Namjoon is left waiting for you.
Jungkook waits and observes Namjoon, wondering why you’d choose Namjoon over him. He thinks he could take the guy in the boxing ring. He’s too big and sluggish to move as fast as Jungkook. Indeed, he could knock Namjoon out with his right hook. But if it’s not a physical thing you’re looking for, then it’s an intellectual thing.
He shakes off the self-deprecating thoughts. Why doesn’t he go over and chat the guy up? Get to know him. It won’t hurt to find out what kind of guy he is.
There's a queue of friends waiting to take individual shots with you, and you look over to check whether Namjoon is all right. You notice Jungkook approaching and breathe a sigh of comfort, knowing he'll keep Namjoon company.
Jungkook stands up tall when he’s beside Namjoon. “Lavish party, huh?”
Namjoon turns to him and chuckles. “Yeah, she went all out for her 30th.” He cracks his neck and adjusts his bright pink blazer.
“Since you’ll be around, you should get used to it. ___ throws parties like this all the time.”
“She does?” Namjoon’s eyes widened with concern.
Jungkook pouts and nods. “You think this is bad? Last year, she rented a private island, and everyone who attended had to buy a plane ticket to her party.”
Namjoon gulps.
“Man–and now that you guys are together. I'm wishing nothing but the best for you," Jungkook shakes his head. "The last guy was going through it.”
“Last guy? What happened to the last guy?”
Jungkook glances in your direction, then back to Namjoon. “Oh, you guys haven’t had that conversation yet?”
“What conversation?”
“Let’s just say there was a restraining order involved.”
There’s a look of relief on Namjoon’s face. “Man, that guy must’ve been a psycho.”
Jungkook shakes his head. “Oh no, no, no. The restraining order was against her!”
Namjoon shifts his position, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Trust me, you don’t want to get on her bad side. Once, she took a bat to a neighbor’s car, thinking it was her boyfriend’s. Mind you, she was pretty drunk—and it was dark, but when she has an idea that you’re cheating on her, all hell breaks loose,” Jungkook tuts.
“Oh.”
Jungkook chuckles. “And don’t even get me started on her obsession with that one K-pop group, Seventeen. She practically has a shrine in her bedroom. Mingyu’s face is plastered on every square inch of her walls, and when they finally came on tour, she drained so much of her savings flying everywhere to see them—front row, I might add.”
Namjoon clears his throat. “I think I need a drink,” he says.
“But don’t worry, man, you’ll be fine!” Jungkook shouts as Namjoon walks away.
He lowers his head and rubs his face. He blames the alcohol for his stupidity. His string of lies is why you would never want to be with him.
Although Jungkook has spewed many lies to Namjoon, it doesn’t scare him off. The two of you are like two peas in a pod. And when he sees Namjoon jet off somewhere, Jungkook swoops in, hoping he’ll have a chance to talk to you before it’s too late.
“Hey!” Jungkook says out of breath. “Going home?”
“Yeah,” you beam a warm smile. “I’m pretty wiped.”
“I can take you home, and then maybe we can talk?”
You nod. “Mm, that sounds like a plan.”
You’ve always found it easy to talk to Jungkook. Even though he claims not to be good at chitchatting, he knows how to make you smile and laugh.
“Did you see Hoseok and Jenn trying to undress each other?” Jungkook chuckles.
“Jenn claims she thought Hoseok was a Ken doll,” you giggle. “I don’t know why they keep skirting around each other. They should date already.”
You two arrive outside your apartment. You unlock the keypad, leaving the door open. Turning back, you see Jungkook standing there. “Are you gonna come in or talk to me from out there?” you ask, shaking your head.
Jungkook walks through the door, closing it behind himself. He smooths down his pants and fixes the collar of his jacket. His gaze darts around the room as he prepares to say what’s on his mind.
“Can I change, and then we’ll talk?”
Jungkook nods, and you run off to your room.
With a heavy sigh, he takes a seat on the couch. He keeps shifting his weight, but nothing feels right. The sweat on his hands increases as the seconds pass by. He's never done it before, confessed his feelings.
Jungkook had rehearsed like he was up for a big audition but felt he’d stumble over his words and blurt out bleh-bleh-blahs.
You resurface a few seconds later, wearing an oversized t-shirt and what appears to be nothing underneath, but when you sit down, he catches a peek at your shorts.
“You wanted to talk?”
“Yeah, about us.”
You cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Us?”
A knock on the door interrupts you. Your eyebrows knitted together, wondering who it could be this late at night. When you open it, you find Namjoon.
“Hey! You left your phone at the restaurant,” he says. He acknowledges Jungkook as he steps in.
“Oh, thank you! Ah–don’t leave yet! I have something to give to you, too.” You dash to your room, leaving Jungkook and Namjoon.
There’s a moment before Jungkook breaks the silence. He turns to Namjoon. “That shirt she’s wearing is from her ex-boyfriend. She sleeps in it every night because she misses him.”
Namjoon’s lips thin, and he nods.
“Trust me–you should run while you can,” Jungkook says, shaking his head.
He points to the small Seventeen merch collection sitting on a shelf in your living room. “See. It’s cute and innocent until it’s not.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” Namjoon says reluctantly as he turns away, trying to focus on other things until you return.
You leave your room with a bag, handing it to Namjoon. “I washed your shirt and bought you a new one too.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to,” he reaches for the shirt, taking it out.
“I know, but I felt bad about ruining it.”
Namjoon chuckles. "I like how you're giving me a gift on your birthday."
You wave off his comment. "It's nothing. Thanks for returning my phone,” you say, walking him to the door. “I’ll see you later?”
He flashes a grin; his dimples etched deeply into those cheeks. You pull him down to kiss him on the cheek, barely catching the corner of his lips. You let it linger for a second longer, ensuring Jungkook can see it.
“Bye,” you whisper, closing the door behind him.
You stand with your back facing Jungkook. Clenching your jaw and your fists, you huff a breath. Turning around, you stare at the one person you thought was your friend.
“This is my ex-boyfriend’s shirt, and I sleep in it because I miss him?” you deadpan, folding your arms across your chest.
Your glare silences Jeon Jungkook, and his deer-in-the-headlights appearance implies guilt.
You scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “Have you been sabotaging all my relationships? Tell me the truth.”
You remember Jimin and Theo and how conveniently Jungkook had been there after each breakup.
There’s still no word from Jungkook. He’s playing with the invisible hair on his chin before he stands. “Yeah, but it’s only because—”
“Because what!” you exclaim. Never in a million years did you think you’d be yelling at a good friend. “Because you want to marry me? Why didn’t you just ask me out, Kook?”
The nickname causes his heart to ache. His eyes darted to the floor, then at you. “Because...”
You lean forward, waiting for his excuse, but he doesn’t give you one. You’re only met with silence.
“Because you’re the kind of guy who lies and manipulates to get what he wants? Didn’t really think you were that kind of person.”
“I’m not—”
“You are! If you cared about me, you wouldn’t go around spreading lies. And to think I was going to marry you? God–you must think I’m fucking stupid.”
"No, I don't think that at all—" he counters, taking a step toward you, and you take a step back.
Licking your lips, you play with your bottom lip. "I—I don't even know who you are anymore."
"I'm the same person you met two years ago," he says. Jungkook steps toward you again, reaching out for you.
"Don't touch me," you warn. "Don't you ever talk to me again," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You should go, Kook."
Jungkook walks past you. He makes his way to the door—and when it shuts, you flinch.
Approaching your 30s, you figured you’d be crying because you’re likely to have a mid-life crisis and not because one of your good friends has lied to you for the last couple of years.
Jungkook has misled you throughout the week. You don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore.
Your heart aches from the pain. Why did this hurt more than a breakup? You trusted him, even considered marrying him and spending the rest of your life with him. How could you be so naive? Maybe it was your distorted perception of love and relationships, and that’s how you ended up in this situation.
Maybe it's your fault and no one else's.
sunday.
It’s early. Too early for Jungkook’s taste.
He’s been tossing and turning all night. Wishing he could redo the last two years. Wishing he could’ve been honest from the beginning. Wishing you didn’t hate him right now.
Picking up his phone, he grumbles after seeing the time—six in the morning. There’s no way you’re up, he thinks. And there’s no way you’ll pick up his call either.
He assumes you’ve blocked him—wants nothing to do with him and doesn’t blame you.
The expression on your face is ingrained in his memory, and the lies he told are on a continuous loop. How would he win you back—if you’d let him, that is.
It’s that point in the romantic movie where the love interest finds the courage to go for it. Jungkook has nothing else to lose at this point. It’s now or never.
With your favorite iced coffee and pastry in hand, he’s ready to beg for your forgiveness. Beg for another chance to make things right.
Three knocks strike your door. No answer.
He gives it another moment before doing it again.
And nothing.
He pulls out his phone, searching for your contact. It rings several times and goes to voicemail. At least you didn’t block him, he thinks.
Should he wait here all day? In hopes you’ll leave your apartment?
Unless Namjoon has seen you or knows your whereabouts.
Jungkook figures, why not? What does he have to lose? He’s already lost his dignity.
Another three knocks, only this time it’s on Namjoon’s door. A few moments later, the lock unlatches, and the door opens.
Namjoon’s eyes widened at the sight of Jungkook. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”
“Hey. Have you seen or heard from ___?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, man. I haven’t.”
The corners of Jungkook’s lips turn down, and he nods. “Fuck,” he mumbles, lowering his head. He turns on his heel, ready to leave.
“Hey, Jungkook?”
He turns back and hums.
“If you like her, be honest with her,” Namjoon says.
Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “Did ___ tell you?”
Namjoon chuckles and shakes his head no. “I figured you were lying when you said she made everyone fly to a private island. She mentioned that she’s never flown before. So I put two and two together, and it was hard to ignore all the glares you gave me at the party.”
Jungkook closes his eyes, lowering his head. “I’m so sorry about all the lies I told you. None of them were true—except maybe the Mingyu thing. She does have an obsession with that guy.”
He clears his throat. “I’m sorry about coming between you two. But it’s no wonder she likes you. You have your head on straight, unlike me.”
A grin sweeps across Namjoon’s face. “It’s okay. I get it, man. I’ve been there before—not the lying, but I’ve been head over heels for someone. ___ is cool, and you seem like a good guy. Just…don’t give up on her, okay?”
Jungkook’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What about you guys?”
“Huh? Me and ___?” Jungkook hums. “We’ve been out on one date, and you’ve known her for…?
“Two years.”
“You have more history with her than I do.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t tell lies.”
Namjoon steps forward, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You’d be a fool to give up now. Trust me, you don’t want to live with the what ifs and what could have been.”
“Um, here,” Jungkook says, handing Namjoon the iced coffee and pastry bag. “I don’t want it to go to waste.”
He bids Namjoon goodbye, and as he’s driving home, he stares off into space, pondering Namjoon’s words.
What if you never want to talk to him again? What if he loses you?
He only wanted his chance with you; whenever he gathered the courage to do so, someone always came into the picture before him. He’s realized how much his lies caused more harm than good. He was cheating his way into your heart, which is unfair to you and him.
You peek out when the elevator doors open, ensuring the coast is clear. You've seen the missed calls and texts but needed more time to be ready to face Jeon Jungkook. That's why you've been hiding out at Jenn's all day. But alas, you had to go home and face your fears.
Your door accidentally slams when you go in. Shit.
It’s not like Jungkook’s been waiting around for you, right? Though, you didn’t want to make it known that you were home.
Not even ten minutes after you’ve arrived, there’s a knock on your door. Peering through your viewfinder, you check if the coast is clear and unlock your door. You grab Namjoon's hand, pulling him into the apartment.
"Whoa–miss me that much?" he jokes, setting down the iced coffee and pastry bag.
"What's that?"
"Jungkook dropped it off this morning, but you weren't here. Have you been hiding?"
You lower your head. "Yes."
Namjoon licks his lips. “He’s in love with you, you know?”
You ignore the coffee and pastry bag and sit on the couch. “It’s a weird way to show that you like someone by lying and sabotage.”
“I think it’s cute,” Namjoon chuckles, sitting beside you.
Disbelief is written all over your face: eyes wide, brows lifted, jaw open, which only makes him laugh harder.
“You gotta give the guy some credit. He went out of his way to make sure you’d say single so he could finally have his chance with you. That sounds like dedication to me.”
“Is this a weird ‘guy code?’ Am I missing something?”
He shakes his head. “I get where he’s coming from. Does it suck that he lied instead of saying what he wanted? Yeah, but maybe he didn’t know how to say it because he feared he’d say nonsense in front of you. I know the feeling–where you like someone so much, you’re afraid of looking dumb.”
You ponder Namjoon’s words, sipping on your iced coffee. “You seem chatty. Does that mean you don’t go dumb around me?” you ask dryly.
Namjoon laughs. “I get butterflies and excitement every time I walk out my door, hoping I’d bump into you.”
“But?”
“But you should figure things out with Jungkook, and then we’ll go from there.”
It’s silly—the glow-in-the-dark stars that are plastered on your ceiling. Half of them threaten to fall, and the other half are stuck on so tight it’ll take off the paint.
“You’ve never had glow-in-the-dark stars before?” Jungkook asks. “Let’s get some.”
The only reason why they’re up there in the first place is because of him. Jungkook was comforting you after your breakup with Jimin.
You throw your duvet over your head, screaming into it. How could you have been so blind? So stupid? How are you supposed to face him again with your friend group? Or alone?
This past week was perfect—at least, you thought it was. But you’re second-guessing every interaction, every conversation, every laugh, every touch.
If you hadn’t met Namjoon, could you have fallen in love with Jungkook?
The more you thought about it, the more you hated that you were falling for him. Maybe Namjoon was just an excuse not to explore a relationship with Jungkook. Maybe you didn’t want to ruin your friendship, but then again, what did it matter because it’s been sabotaged by Jungkook himself?
How would you get out of this mess?
monday.
A notification ding shows up on your phone.
[ Tattoo appointment - 6 PM ]
Shit. You completely forgot about your tattoo.
You go through your text messages, finding the Instagram profile of Kai, who’s supposed to tattoo you. You frown when you see a cancellation fee and that the cancellation should’ve been done two days before the appointment. Now, you have to mentally prepare yourself for getting your first tattoo.
The recommendations on your YouTube only show videos of ‘how much does getting a tattoo hurt.’ You know the pain that goes into a needle puncturing your skin. The question was, how high was your pain threshold?
When you walk into the shop, a bell chimes. It’s in pristine condition, as one would expect from a tattoo parlor. You’re greeted by a girl dressed in a black latex v-neck top. A sunray heart tattoo sits right on her chest.
“Hi, I have an appointment with Kai.”
She clicks through her computer and beams a warm smile. “For ___?” You nod. “Is Jungkook coming too?” she asks.
“Oh no. I don’t think so.” Was he planning on getting something, too? You didn’t think he’d show after everything went down.
“Kai is finishing up with a client, and he’ll come get you when he’s ready.”
You flash a small smile, taking a seat in their lounge. You’re picking at your nail beds and bouncing your leg. You’re trying to focus on anything other than what will happen soon.
A light noise of whirring fills the room. You close your eyes, concentrating on your breathing. It’s a small tattoo. There’s nothing to be afraid of, you think.
A part of you wishes Jungkook was here to hold your hand like he said he would. It's dumb even to want him to be here. But after spending so much time with him this past week, you admit you miss him.
"I’m ready for you,” Kai says.
You take a deep breath and follow him to his workspace.
“Nervous?” he asks.
“Yeah, it’s my first tattoo.”
“You’ll do great. I know it,” Kai smiles, sitting at his desk. He grabs his iPad. “Okay, what are we getting today?” Kai asks.
“Um, I turned 30 yesterday, so I wanted to get the birth flower for September,” you say, showing him the inspiration photos.
“Ah, Happy Birthday,” Kai grins. “Birth flowers are a great choice. Any idea where you want it and the size?”
"On the back of my neck, I don't want anything too big. Two to three inches."
"Oh–a woman who knows what she wants. There was no hesitation," Kai teases. "Cool–so, I'll sketch out a few options, and then we'll go from there. Sound good?"
You press your lips together and nod. As Kai's working on your sketch, you stroll around his workspace, looking at the illustrations hung up. There's traditional and fine line art, and you recognize a drawing of a snake—it looks like the one Jungkook has on his arm.
“See anything else you like?”
“I, um, recognize some of your work. You’ve tattooed my friend, Jungkook,” you note, turning back to look through more of Kai’s sketches.
Somehow, your nerves have finally calmed down. The whirring noise from the tattoo gun is like white noise to you, drowning everything out. You’re lost in the intricate detailing of the drawings. Tattooing is true art, you think. But instead of a traditional canvas or paper, it’s forever inked on someone’s skin.
“Okay, let me know what you think of these.” Kai shows you the iPad with a few flowers drawn out.
“You’re so quick,” you comment as you review your options. “Let’s go with this one.” You love how delicate and dainty the tattoo looks.
“If you need a break at any time, just let me know,” Kai gives a warm smile. “I apologize for the weird positioning, but I’ll need you to lay on your stomach, and your head will hang off the table.”
Your lips thin when you catch his gaze. You remove your zip-up hoodie and place it on a chair with your bag. Kai prints the design on transfer paper, putting the placement on the back of your neck. He hands you a mirror, ensuring it’s in the correct spot.
“Alright, let’s do this,” he says.
Once you’re on the table, the once-soothing noise of the tattoo gun flips a switch, and sweat builds up in the palms of your hands. The blood rushes to your head as your head is hanging off the table. You can see Kai’s feet as he steps on the foot pedal, ensuring his equipment works correctly.
You take a deep breath, trying to exhale fear and anxiety, but nothing works. The tattoo gun sounds closer, and the needle inches away from you. Your fists clench up, and you close your eyes, hoping it’ll be over quickly.
You can feel the latex glove on your back as Kai’s ready to outline the design. You can do this, you think.
With eyes still closed, fists clenched—you’re ready.
The shop's bell chimes again, but you’re too focused on this needle about to prick your skin. You can feel another presence. Their warmth is radiating on you. You figure it’s just the girl from the front, so you don’t bother to open your eyes.
Your fist unclenches, and not because of your own doing. It’s whoever is beside you. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of black motorcycle denim tucked into leather stomper boots.
“Hey—my man,” Kai stops and acknowledges. “Good to see you, Jungkook.”
“Hey,” Jungkook replies. “Sorry, I’m late.”
“Nah, you’re right on time. We just started. I’m sure ___ appreciates you being here,” Kai notes, returning to tattooing you.
You didn’t want to admit it, but having Jungkook’s presence was comforting. A part of you wanted to be stubborn and pull your arm away, but considering that a needle was piercing your skin—it wasn’t a good idea.
Jungkook laces his hand with yours; his thumb lightly grazes over your skin. He leans forward, whispering, “Hi.”
You’re unsure if the shiver running through your spine is because of the needle or Jungkook.
While lying on this tattoo table, you’re at war with yourself. An angel on one shoulder tells you to stay strong and not give in because he’s holding your hand. The devil, on the other hand, is telling you you’re a simp and can’t resist when a man is fawning over you.
You hate that the devil is right, and you’re even considering Namjoon’s words, ‘You gotta give the guy some credit. He went out of his way to make sure you’d stay single so he could finally have his chance with you. That sounds like dedication to me.’
Was it dedication or delusion?
You won’t lie. You’ve done questionable things when it came to love, too, so you couldn’t blame Jungkook. Maybe you should hear him out and see what he says for himself.
You’re silent, letting Kai do his thing. He and Jungkook chit-chat about life and future tattoos. The buzzing mechanical hum from the tattoo gun is constant and annoying—you’re growing numb to it like you’re growing numb to the pain.
But Jungkook’s touch? It makes you tingle. You’re keenly aware of how his thumb strokes against your knuckle—the constant squeezes, reassuring your anxiety when the pain shoots down your spine.
Through the years, that’s what Jungkook’s always been—he soothes your pain.
Maybe he’s responsible for your current pain - the shattered relationships and this tattoo you’re getting, but he always has a back-up plan: himself. He’s the shoulder to cry on, the hand to hold—the constant, consistent one who shows up repeatedly.
He’s confusing but calming, and you’re annoyed at how much you don’t mind his touch. Your breathing slows, and your shoulders relax as you sink into the cushioned table.
“Almost done,” Kai notes.
That was fast. Fifteen minutes–tops.
Kai finishes cleaning the tattoo, and after you stand up from your awkward position, you’re face to face with Jungkook. Once again, Jungkook resorted back to his favorite color: black. He’s in an oversized long-sleeve shirt and jeans, and there’s a silver chain adorning his neck.
His doe eyes twinkle and the corners of his mouth curve up. “The tattoo looks good on you,” he says softly. “Do you wanna see?”
Even with a mirror, the placement makes it hard to see the finished product. You grab your phone, open the camera app, and hand it over to Jungkook. You turn around, facing the mirror, holding up your hair. You catch Jungkook’s gaze and look away. His hand gently touches the nape of your neck, removing a stray hair. He snaps a few photos, handing your phone back.
“It looks beautiful on you.”
You mumble a word of thanks, grabbing your things, attempting to flee from his presence.
Pulling out your wallet to pay for your tattoo, you head to the front, but the girl stops you.
“Jungkook already paid,” she says.
The nape of your neck warms up, and your nostrils flare. You nod at the girl. Bumping into Jungkook on the way out, you stuff your wallet back into your bag, and Jungkook follows you, catching up.
“Why did you do that?” you ask, glaring at Jungkook.
"Because it's your birthday present. I couldn't let you pay for it."
You narrow your eyes, giving him the once over. “Why? So you can tell the next guy I date how we have matching tattoos and scare him off?” you retort, brushing past him.
Jungkook cards his hand through his hair. “Come on, that’s not fair,” he shouts, running after you again.
He calls out to you, making you stop in your tracks. Turning around, you breathe a heavy sigh. “You’re right. It's not fair,” you give him a wry smile. “But doesn’t it sound like something you’d say? Mr. Liar Liar Pants on Fire.”
The third time must be the charm because he’s chasing after you again.
“Hey, can we talk, please?” he implores as his eyes scan your face.
You zig-zag around him.
He repeats by running and standing in front of you. “You can’t avoid me forever.”
“Watch me,” you retort, attempting to flee again.
Jungkook holds his hand up. “Just hear me out, and if you never want to talk to me again after that, then so be it."
You huff. “Only if you drop me off at home,” you say, crossing your arms. You don’t feel like taking the subway; it’s the least he could do.
With hands in your lap, you’re waiting for Jungkook to say something, but he’s as quiet as a mouse. He’s missed two exits and been driving in circles, going past your apartment complex for the fourth time. You wouldn’t be surprised if a police car starts following you, considering how suspicious the two of you look.
You can’t take it anymore—the endless dancing around this conversation. “I thought you wanted to talk?” you ask as your eyes flick in his direction for a moment.
He straightens his posture, gripping the steering wheel and focusing on the road. "I'm, uh, I’m sorry for telling all those lies. It was stupid of me. I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning.”
You bury your face in your hands before turning to him. “If you liked me, why didn’t you tell me?”
You had come up with many scenarios in your head and thought back to your conversations and interactions with him. Jungkook had so many chances to say something, but he never did.
Jungkook shrugs and looks at you briefly before returning to the road.
“It’s easy being your friend, but to be your boyfriend? That scares me.”
You get it. Opening your heart, being vulnerable, and giving your everything to one person is terrifying. Sometimes, it feels like days, months, and years are wasted with one person when it doesn’t work out.
“Scared you’d screw it up?” you ask, turning to him.
Jungkook hums as he pulls up to your apartment complex.
With a sigh, you admit, “You were on your way to being a pretty good boyfriend.”
You hate that you found him so sweet and cute, even after everything that’s happened.
“I was?” he questions with widened eyes and turns off the ignition. He shifts to face you.
“Yeah,” you chuckle. Your hand lingers on the door handle. “Walk me up?”
The two of you are on opposite sides of the elevator. Jungkook’s leaning on the metal bar behind himself with his legs crossed in front of him.
He hangs his head before looking up at you. "What if I had been truthful from the beginning? Do you think we would’ve been together?”
You press your lips together and shake your head. “I don’t know, Kook. I guess we’ll never know.”
When the elevator arrives at your floor, it chimes, and you exit, and Jungkook follows. You stop outside your door, watching as Jungkook leans his shoulder against the wall, facing you.
You can tell when something is brewing in Jungkook’s mind. You’ve been friends long enough for you to notice some tendencies.
With an eyebrow lifted and his tongue poking through the inside of his cheek, he’s ready to lay something on you. He licks his lips, eyes flick to yours.
“Tell me you don’t feel the same way,” he says.
You can feel your stomach somersaulting when he doesn’t break eye contact. Your heart rate rises as you work harder to pump more blood than usual.
There were small, fleeting moments where you could picture yourself with him: weekend mornings with breakfast in bed and late-night cuddles on the couch.
“I’m trying my hardest not to feel something,” you confess. As much as he was scared to screw it up, so were you. You’ve never dated a friend. You’ve met all your ex-boyfriends through mutual friends. You’ve built fantasies of what a perfect boyfriend and relationship should look like, and Jungkook wasn't perfect–but neither were you.
Jungkook moves closer. “So you like me too?” His eyes dart from your parted lips to your eyes.
“I don’t not like you,” you say softly, stepping forward as you play with his silver chain.
"So where does this leave us?" He’s searching your face for an answer.
As always, your heart is at war with your head. The sensible thing to do is to stay friends. The foolish thing is to see how this could pan out. What if you could get your happily ever after?
"What would you do if I was yours?" you ask.
"If you were mine?"
You hum.
"If you were mine, I'd spend every waking minute with you. Asking anything and everything that comes to mind. I want to know what makes you happy and sad. I want to know what you love and hate. I want to know everything your heart desires." Jungkook eliminates the distance. "I'd pepper you with kisses all day–on your neck, cheeks, forehead, lips–everywhere,” he says softly as his eyes never leave yours. "If you were mine, I'd never lie to you again. I'd love you with every breath and never let you go." He’s eye to eye with you, hands cupping your face. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you. I was an idiot for not saying anything sooner. But if this is the only time I could be with you, I'll take it."
You gulp. Jungkook’s saying all the right things, everything a girl could want. You hate it. You hate that you’re a sucker for heartfelt moments and love confessions. Neverending cartwheels occupy your stomach. The little gymnast in there is going for the gold–doing back flips and leaps; there’s no way to stop them. Your heart beats faster for him than for anyone else–even more than Namjoon.
All it took was a silly agreement and a few lies to make you realize you didn’t want a perfect boyfriend or relationship. Forget getting married by a certain age. Forget the expectations of you instilled by society. This boy was a bit messy, a bit ruined, but a beautiful disaster.
Whatever it looked like, you wanted him.
You take another second to look at him because what you want to say next will change your friendship.
“Kiss me,” you say softly, your gaze dropping to his lips.
“Are you sure you want me to kiss you?”
You nod.
If there’s one more thing to add to Jungkook’s list of fears—it’s ruining your friendship.
“I won’t be able to stop if I do,” he whispers.
Restless is how you would describe Jungkook. Restless when it came to telling your exes lies. Restless in his ability to sit still. Restless as he chews on his bottom lip–it could be how he incessantly licks his lips or just lacks hydration. You’ve never noticed before how badly he needs chapstick.
But Jungkook’s within touching distance of your lips, and all you can think about is how much he needs chapstick. Your sweet peach one, you think.
Maybe you should offer him some.
“Then don’t.”
It’s slow and gentle when he kisses you. He’s taking his time. There’s no urgency. No tongue, no hands beneath your shirt, or roaming your body. Nothing like that.
It’s like he’s been waiting so long to do this. It’s like he’s forgotten any other mouth existed but yours. You’ll forget your name or where you are when you finally break away from his lips.
He consumes every thought you have, and this is what you were afraid of–that you’ll become addicted to his kisses. You’re unsure how long you can stand before he has to carry you to bed.
His breath is warm and sweet. You love him breathing life into you and taking it away over and over. Your hands curl into his shirt, tugging him as close as possible. Tilting your head, you open your mouth to catch more air before kissing him again. Lips upon lips are discovering each other.
Jungkook pulls away, his nose nudging yours. He kisses the corner of your mouth and your cheek. He’s on his tippy toes, kissing your eyelids, then your forehead.
“Okay–don’t stop,” you say, breathless, reaching for another kiss. “It’s for scientific reasons.”
He chuckles. “Are you researching how long someone can go without breathing?”
“Mmhm.” You reach again, but he pulls back, making you pout.
“You didn’t answer my question from earlier, ‘Where does this leave us?’ he asks.
You realize he won’t kiss you until you answer him. You cock your head to the side. “I like you, but it will take a minute for me to trust you again.”
Jungkook nods. “Mm, I get that. So…?”
“So–we should take this slow and see where it goes.”
He sucks in his lips, trying to suppress a smile. “What about Namjoon?”
The two of you hear someone clearing their throat, and you look in their direction as they appear from the hallway. It’s Namjoon, giving you a quick wave.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says as he walks to his door. “I saw you guys when I turned the corner, but then I ducked back into the hallway, waiting for you to…finish.” Namjoon presses his lips together into a smile.
You turn to Jungkook. “I’ll be one second.”
With a sprint in your step, you head toward Namjoon. “I’m so sorry you saw that.”
Namjoon laughs. “Why are you sorry? I knew I didn’t have a chance against Jungkook. I was waiting for you to realize you wanted to be with him.”
Your eyes widened. “You knew?”
His eyebrows raise, and he nods. “Mmhm.” He leans forward. “We had fun, but look at the guy.” Namjoon glances at Jungkook. “I would’ve felt like the back-up until you two got your shit together. You don’t have to worry about me. Go–he’s waiting for you.”
“Thanks Namjoon.” A sense of relief rushes over you, and you’re thankful he understands.
Returning to Jungkook, you’re no longer looking at your back-up plan. He’s the one you want to wake up next to, the one you want to laugh with, smile with–he’s become your first choice.
He extends his hand for yours. “So, should I get my tux pressed?”
You deadpan.
“We’re practically engaged now, right?” he jokes before leaning in for a kiss.
You press your finger into his taut chest, pushing him away. “Be fucking for real, Jungkook. We’re going inside and watching my favorite rom-com–While You Were Sleeping, so you can see the consequences of how lying gets you in trouble.”
“Oh, I love that one! It's the one where she pretends to be engaged to the guy in a coma, but she falls for the brother?”
You slowly turn to him, mouth agape. “You really have seen a lot of rom-coms, haven’t you?”
“I may have learned a thing or two from them.”
“Yeah–lying!” You scold him as you enter the apartment. The two of you continue bickering back and forth.
Who knew you’d be living in a romantic film of your own?
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Chokehold - Noah Sebastian x Reader (+18)
Author's Note:
Heyy, I've had this idea in my head for a while now and it took me some time to finally write it so I hope y'all like it!!
I'm new to this fandom and this is my very first Noah Sebastian fanfiction, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Disclaimers: as any other content in this blog, this is a highly NSFW smutty story so if you're not into this kind of explicit content I advise you not to read it. Here you'll have a bit of plot and lots of porn, unprotected p in v (be safe out there), oral (f receiving), Noah being a giver, alcohol and lots of explicit descriptions.
English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes I eventually skipped while proof-reading it.
I wrote it to Sleep Token's "Chokehold", "Take Me Back To Eden" and "The Summoning", and also to Bad Omens' "The Death Of Piece Of Mind" and "What It Cost", so if you're into listening to something while reading, I recommend you these songs.
WC: 4.7K
Enjoy your time here and if you enjoy it, feel free to leave it a like and/or to reblog the story, your feedback is what keeps me writing!!
End of Author's Note
-0-
You were Bad Omens’ photographer for the tour, the one responsible for taking all the pictures the fans would go feral online, especially Noah’s, and you couldn’t help but to keep giving them more material, because even though you’d never admit it, you’d also secretly had a deep crush on him.
The guys from the band and the crew would often joke about how Noah’s pictures were the best ones and how you privileged him over the rest of the band, but you always dismissed the subject by saying that it wasn’t your fault he had the better angle since he was the lead singer. It was true in some aspects, yes, but your skills for taking fantastic pictures no matter how challenging the circumstance was were undeniable, so in the end of the day, it wasn’t hard to reach the conclusion that Noah was your favorite.
You often caught yourself admiring the pictures you took of him, his perfect angelical features in contrast with his tattoo covered skin, the way his eyes would catch the lens like he was staring right into your soul through the camera separating you.
But that was all coming to an end tonight.
They’d just played their last concert of the tour and you’d all agreed to make a small (kind of) party to celebrate it at the boys’ place.
You felt bittersweet towards the event. You were happy to be partying with them and being able to enjoy the moment without the concern of taking the perfect pictures. But on the other hand, you were sad you wouldn’t be seeing the band daily anymore and you’d miss them because you’d gotten attached to them and to their jokes, and also (and obviously) because you wouldn’t be seeing Noah anymore.
Your flight home for the morning after the party was already booked and you’d already checked in to save you some time.
So you sighed when you walked inside the big house in front of you. You, like always, held your confident and unwavering poise before everyone, but deep down you were uneasy. Was this the last time you’d be seeing him? In how long? Or ever?
You couldn’t hear the sounds of your heels clicking on the wooden floor because at each step you got closer to the party where loud music was blasting and you soon found the small crowd of people in the main living room already having their own fun.
You felt an arm hooking on yours and suddenly Folio was pulling you through the people towards the rest of the band and you couldn’t help but to smile at the unexpected gesture.
Your heart raced and your cheeks burned as you got closer to Noah, who’d been watching you from the moment you arrived, but you played it cool like always as you got to them and Ruffilo immediately put a bottle of beer in your hand.
Noah couldn’t take his eyes off you.
You didn’t know that, but he also had a strong crush on you and all of the band knew it. He always told them it was just a small crush and they should ignore it just as he did (or tried), because he wanted to keep it professional between you two.
But when you got to his sight and he saw you wearing that black leather crop top, with thin straps on your shoulders, just a zipper on the front imprisoning your breasts and highlighting your cleavage, along with a high-waisted skinny black skirt molding your curves and, mainly, your ass, bare toned legs on display and black boots on your feet, he was done.
You’d spent the last months practically living together in tour buses and stuff, but you always wore larger, baggy dark clothes that’d cover your body and blend you with the rest of the crew, so how well you looked caught not only Noah’s attention, but everyone else’s, the difference tonight was the fact that Noah just wouldn’t stop staring.
You felt confident, you knew you looked hot and secretly you’d chosen your clothes just for him, to impress him, to catch his attention. And your mission was successfully accomplished.
“Hey pretty” Noah reached his right arm out and pulled you to him in a side hug before kissing the top of your head.
“Hey handsome”
That exchange wasn’t new for you, it was like that every time you met, but this time, the way his lips lingered longer in your forehead as you inhaled his scent deeply got you very aware that something was different tonight. Was it because you were parting ways?
When he let you go he searched for the flustered expression you always had in your face when he did that, but sensed some apprehension instead, despite the grin forming on your lips.
Another thing you didn’t know is that Noah learned over time how to read you and he loved how cute you looked every time he got a shy smile out of your lips.
He loved how flustered you got when he gave the camera the looks he knew got you weak on your knees, because every time he did that, he saw how you unwittingly licked your lips as you checked out the pictures you’d just taken. And no, you didn’t have that same reaction over the pictures you took from the rest of the band, no matter how incredible they were.
“Gonna miss me now that the tour is over?” You teased him, taking a sip from your beer.
“Miss you? Why? We’re not going anywhere” Confusion splattered across Noah’s face as he had his full attention on you.
“You remember I live on the other side of the world right?”
His jaw visibly tensed when he finally processed the information you just brought him.
“Fuck…” Noah was frustrated “But you’re still coming for the barbecue tomorrow, right?”
“Uh… Nope… My flight leaves early in the morning actually…” You felt guilty as the words came from your lips, the intensity of his glare over you stealing your breath as Noah looked like he’d just been stabbed.
“No, you can’t do that… Are you saying this is our last night with you until God knows when?”
He took a big gulp of his own beer, his knuckles white due to the hard grip on the bottle and on the counter behind him, until he sighed in defeat.
“Come on, it’s not like we’re never seeing each other again” You nudged him trying to cheer him up “All you gotta do is hire me as your photographer again” You winked at him and took another swing of your beer, but you didn’t miss the way he watched your lips wrapping around the bottle.
“You say it like we’ve fired you, but you forget you won’t get rid of us, and especially me that easy”
“Like I’d want to get rid of you” You rolled your eyes.
“You could’ve waited a little longer to go home though, are you that tired of looking at my face?” He teased, the smirk on his lips making you weak on your knees.
“Tired of looking at a catch like that? Never”
“You think I’m a catch? Good to know” The way his eyes burned as he looked at you up and down again raised goosebumps on your skin.
“You’re insufferable”
“And you’re a terrible liar” He grabbed your hand “Now come on let’s have some fun”
The rest of the band along with other guests had gathered around the sofas in the middle of the room, all of them paying attention to Jolly, who was explaining the rules of the drinking game he’d just invented.
After a few drinks, beers and shots in, you along with anyone else got loose and the games that were tame at first got wilder as the night went on.
“Truth or dare, come on, never gets old and I’m dying for some revelations tonight” Folio spun an empty bottle in the center of the coffee table in front of them “bottom asks, top answers”
The bottle finally stopped spinning and you had the first round: Rufillo to Jolly.
Jolly chose dare and Rufillo made him drink 5 seconds of tequila.
Another spin. Folio to you.
“Come on honey, truth or dare?” He made the question with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Truth”
“Let’s heat things up a bit then: of the people in this room, who would you make out with?”
Your cheeks burned red with his question as all eyes were on you and the room went silent waiting for your answer. Yet you weren’t shy, the alcohol in your system had you bold at that point.
“Noah”
“Yet you always deny he’s your favorite” Folio pretended to be offended.
You winked at Noah, who was sitting by your side, eyes narrowed in you as he raked them over you, visibly satisfied by your answer.
A few more rounds went by until the bottle landed on Noah.
“Truth or dare, buddy?” Folio had evil intentions in his eyes again and of course Noah wasn’t going to be spared.
“Dare”
“I dare you to take a body shot on the person you find the hottest in this room”
Noah left his place by your side as the boys brought him salt, a piece of lime and a shot of tequila. When he got up you felt your heart sinking in your chest with the realization he might choose another girl, but when he knelt in front of you, you lost your breath.
Noah rested his tattooed hands on your knees, uncrossed your legs and pulled you towards him, to the edge of the couch, the way he manhandled you catching you off guard as he was now between your legs and your skirt rose higher, getting dangerously shorter.
Heat pooled in your panties as you watched him lean you backwards and prepare you for the body shot. He placed the small glass of tequila in your cleavage, poured salt on your neck and the piece of lime between your lips.
“May I?” He splayed his hands on your thighs as the smug on his lips grew wider.
Since your lips were occupied by the piece of lime, you only nodded, watching him lick his lips as he leaned closer towards your neck.
Noah took his time on licking the salt off your neck, swirling his tongue and kissing your skin in the process, then made his way down to your chest where his nose brushed against the valley of your breasts as he wrapped his lips around the shot glass to down it, and for last came up for the lime on your lips, his own ghosting over yours as he took it with his teeth, eyes locked on yours as he teased you in front of everyone, fingers sinking on your thighs as he seemed to be holding himself back.
Rufillo cleared his throat loudly and Noah quickly stood on his feet.
“Fuck I’m dizzy” Was all you could muster as you got up as well all flustered, pulling your skirt down as you headed for the kitchen for some water.
You were so aroused you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Your core ached between your legs as you pressed them together hoping for some friction. You chugged down a glass of cold water in a vain attempt to ease your nerves, but it wasn’t water you were thirsty for.
The feel of his tongue and lips on your neck still lingered, tingling, and you wondered what he would do to you if you weren’t surrounded by people.
“Thirsty?” Noah materialized behind you, practically caging you, but also keeping some distance.
His eyes were darker than usual, burning holes in yours as he waited for your answer, and you both knew very well that “water” wasn’t the subject, and since this was your last night with them, with him, you weren’t running away anymore.
“Been the whole tour” You fired back at him and he took a step closer.
“Same on my part” He cupped your cheek with one of his hands, his fingers entangling with the hair on your nape while his thumb traced your lips “It’s a shame we waited this long… If you only knew all the ways I’ve had you in my mind…”
His husky voice sent your shivers straight to your pussy at his confession, and you wanted nothing but to have at least a sneak peak of what he’d had in his head. If only he could know what’s been to yours as well.
“Well now I can’t seem to understand why are you taking so long to show me?”
“Is there someone in a hurry?”
“Since I have a flight in the morning…” His hand slid down to your neck, choking you.
“And who says you’re getting into that plane tomorrow?” You couldn’t help but to moan when he tightened his hand around your neck just enough to make you melt into his grip “Let’s get out of here”
He let go of your neck and grabbed your hand, guiding you upstairs towards his bedroom. You stood in the middle of his room waiting for his next step as he locked the door behind him, the predatory gaze sending shivers down your spine as he checked you out once again.
“You are so fucking beautiful”
You couldn’t help but to blush at his confession as he stood in front of you, both hands cupping your face, admiring your delicate features.
“I’ve been wanting to do this since the first day I laid my eyes on you” He licked his lips, his eyes shifting from your lips to your eyes.
“Fucking kiss me, Noah”
“Thought you’d never ask”
He crashed his lips against yours and you felt your body going limp in his arms as he deepened the kiss. You let your fingers trail their way through his dark soft hair as his tongue explored yours, devouring you. He kissed you passionately and his hands roamed free over your body, you nibbled his lower lip and he pulled your hips closer, making sure you’d feel how hard he already was, pressing against your belly.
“If you don’t tell me to stop now, I won’t” He gasped, his restraint holding on by a thread.
“Who says I want you to stop?” Your hands slid down his chest to the hem of his shirt “I want your everything” You pulled his shirt upwards and he took the cue to help you take it off.
Your fingertips traced the tattoos on his body in admiration, every inch of him pure perfection in your eyes.
He kissed you again and guided you backwards to his bed, making your body collapse on it just as you felt your calves hitting its edge. Noah hovered over you, the thin chain around his neck dangling over you, almost touching your face as his hand ran up the side of your body from your outer thigh.
When he reached your ribcage, his fingers changed their path to the middle of your chest, to the zipper of your crop top, and you held your breath as he opened it slowly, eyes trained on you as the leather piece slowly slid off your breasts revealing them to him, nipples hard and sensitive on his full disposal.
“Fucking amazing”
Your lips met once more as he splayed one of his hands on one of your boobs, fondling it and pitching your nipple between his tattooed fingers. His body stood between your legs and you whimpered when he rubbed his clothed manhood against your aching center, covered only by helplessly damp lace panties.
His lips trailed kisses down your jaw towards your neck, where he now, very aware of your sensitivity in that area, covered your skin in with kisses and angry love-bites, clearly intending on marking you as his.
Your manicured nails ran up his back as his lips now peppered kisses down your clavicles to your chest, his mouth immediately latching on one of your breasts, suckling and nibbling your nipple, to then soothe the small sting with the softness of his tongue before switching his attention to the other.
You arched your back, legs spreading wider apart as you surrender yourself completely to his mercy, small cries of pleasure escaping your lips as you watched him, mouth and hands full of your boobs, the ache between your legs almost unbearable as you desperately needed him there, filling you.
“Noah please…” You pleaded as your legs tried to pull his hips to grind against you with no avail.
His voice was raw, deep and filled with lust: “Please what?”
He teased, lips now traveling lower on your body, stopping only to give him enough room to take both your skirt and panties at once, throwing it randomly in his room.
“I need you to tell me what you want babe” He nibbled the skin right below your navel, and the realization of how close he was to your intimacy sent stronger shivers over your body as he kissed your inner thighs “Fuck you’re dripping”
“I need you inside me, please” You whined as his lips got closer to your hot center, his eyes admiring how glistening wet you already were for him before he blew his breath on you, making you quiver at the sensitivity.
“I will princess, but I need to taste you first”
Noah spread your legs wider apart and his tongue ran flat over your pussy, collecting and tasting all the arousal he could get, moaning against you as he finally got to taste you. His skilled tongue on your clit got you seeing stars in seconds as he worked on building your orgasm, and you prayed the music downstairs was loud enough to keep the rest of the party from hearing you, because you just couldn’t hold yourself back.
“You taste so fucking good”
Noah ate you like a starved man, feasting on you, taking pleasure in watching the sexed expressions on your face and how you helplessly writhed below him. He added a finger inside you as he kept working on you with his mouth, his long finger immediately finding the magic spongy spot inside you that made your legs shake around his neck as the pleasure knot forming on your lower belly threatened to explode violently at any second.
You tried to hold it back for as long as you could, but when he combined the work on your clit with his tongue along with a precise flick of his wrist, he forced the orgasm out of you in strong white hot waves of ecstasy, making you lose your senses for a few seconds as he rode your high.
Yet Noah didn’t stop.
Still eating you, he held you firmly and flipped you both on the bed, making you sit on his face. Your faltering legs threatened your balance, but his firm grip kept you up straight.
You looked below you and the scene alone almost made you cum again. The pussy-drunk look on his face, the disheveled hair, the way half of his face was covered in your slick, dark eyes glossy as he looked up meeting yours as he kept lapping, sucking, overstimulating you on purpose.
“Oh my fuck N-Noah…”
“Fuck my face babe”
He growled against you, fingers sinking on your ass cheeks as you, still shaky, followed his command and started to roll your hips back and forth, allowing you to control the pace, the pressure, and to use his face on your own will.
You felt your climax blossoming inside you again as he kept devouring you, drinking in every drop he could take from you, his nose rubbing against your clit while he fucked you with his tongue.
“Oh fuck… Noah…” Your orgasm bubbled up inside you again, but you were not ready for it yet, you were sure you’d collapse on top of him if he gave you another one in such a short time.
As if reading your thoughts Noah stopped, keeping you from falling apart so soon, but on the other hand edging you as you were so close to jumping off that cliff again.
You got off of his face and moved down his body to remove his pants and underwear, hurried, dying to feel him. He propped himself on his elbows and watched you undress him with shaky hands, the fucked out expression on your face making him want more of you.
Your jaw dropped when his cock sprung free, rock hard against his belly, head glistening with precum, the size and thickness doing justice to his height, and your throat went dry to the thinking of how he would feel inside you, stretching you.
“It’s all yours” He grinned, watching you admire him.
You straddled and pulled him up to kiss you and your taste still lingered on his tongue. His arms wrapped around your back and waist bringing you closer, and you took the cue to rock yourself against his shaft, coating it with your arousal, mixing it with his precum, the friction making him groan against your lips.
You pulled his hair, tilting his head back exposing his neck, and attacked it with your lips and tongue, all while you now teased the head of his cock with your opening, pretending you’d finally let him in, threatening to finally join your bodies, but skipping it every time, his digits digging on your flesh with his impatiency.
“You’re gonna make me beg for it now?” He peppered kisses on your chest and collarbone.
“You tell me… You want it that bad?” You whispered in his ear and nibbled on his earlobe.
That’s until he took control over you again and held your hips in place, lining himself with your entrance, all while he pulled you by your hair with his free hand, pulling you away from his neck, making you look at him, eyes so dark with lust and oozing such a primal desire you felt like prey.
“I do”
He caressed your cheek with his thumb.
“Now eyes on me”
He instructed and you immediately obeyed. With one of his hands still on the back of your head and the other on your hip, the tip of his cock met your pussy and Noah pressed you down on him, merging your bodies slowly. His name came out of your lips in such a sinful pitch that made him throb inside you, the vision and the feeling of you, flesh and bone, being endlessly better than he could’ve ever imagined.
Your arms snaked around his neck as he bottomed you out, you felt so full and stretched, your whole body was on fire, ignited with desire, and when you got used to his size you started to move on top of him, slowly increasing your pace as you rode him, stealing grunts of pleasure out of him every time you intentionally clenched around him and fucked him harder, your skin slapping against his as his fingers dug into your thighs.
He was so lost in his own moment he didn’t know if he should look at where your bodies merged, at your boobs bouncing in front of his face or at your sex glazed eyes. His lips captured yours once again as you rocked your hips back and forth, that very specific motion almost making you both snap.
“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum”
He whined and rolled you both, laying you on the bed as he got on top of you, switching positions so he could last longer, to feel you longer, to fuck you longer. He pushed himself inside of you again and all at once, at the new depth he reached with that position turned you into a moaning mess as he now set his own pace, but making sure that with every thrust he stimulated that very spot he found earlier inside you.
“Noah oh my…”
You couldn’t finish your sentence as that postponed orgasm emerged again like a tsunami, washing away all of your senses as it bursted from inside out, hard, making your pussy clench desperately around him as he rode your high, taking every bit of his restraint to ride you through it without unloading inside you, cock throbbing in need, and just as he felt your body becoming jelly under his he pulled out of you, cumming on your belly in long hot spurts as he stilled over you, cheeks red and eyes rolled back.
He glued his forehead on yours, breathing still heavy as he came back from his own high, admiring how impossibly beautiful you looked at that very moment.
“There’s no fucking way I’m letting you into that plane tomorrow”
#fanfic#fanfiction#smut#romance#noah sebastian#bad omens#nick folio#nick ruffilo#nicholas ruffilo#jolly karlsson#self insert#joakim karlsson#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian x you
434 notes
·
View notes
Text
- euro dream / lamine yamal
Warnings: none (maybe my writing, there might be some mistakes my brain is currently mush)
Words: 434
Reading Time: 1 min 44 sec
A/N
SPAIN IS IN THE FINAL!! I wrote this to celebrate their win, i hope you like it !
Love y'all Magdi <3
The big 0:1 that was looking down at you in the stadium was stressing you out immensely. The early lead from France in the ninth minute caught Spain off guard for a few minutes. You could see it on Lamine's face, he was trying to find a strategy, trying to get the ball at every chance he got.
Spain finally made its way in front of France's penalty box, Lamine in the middle of them all. He eventually got the ball, dribbled past two French players and shot.
You first didn't even realize that the ball hit the back of the net. You had closed your eyes the second he shot, too nervous to look. But the crowd around you going absolutely feral had your eyes shoot open. He did it he really did it. Lamine shot the equalizer and his first-ever goal in the euros.
He did his signature celebration, and his teammates jumped on him, hugging and patting him on the back. But Lamine started searching through the crowd before finally finding you and pointing at you before forming a heart with his hands.
A deep blush cowered your cheeks as you blew him a kiss, he just dedicated his first-ever euro goal to you, and it couldn't feel more special.
After Lamine's goal, Spain dominated the game, and only 4 minutes later, the second goal fell. So now, with a comfortable lead, Spain didn't give France any chances to score.
The game ended 2:1 for Spain, which means they are in the final. You couldn't be any prouder of your boyfriend and his team. They played incredibly and really deserved their win.
You and his family watched as Lamine got his MVP trophy before going down to the pitch to congratulate him. And the second he was done, you ran down to him, tackling him in a tight hug, kissing his cheek.
"Hola Amor, you enjoyed the match?" Lamine asked you, chuckling slightly.
"Enjoyed it? It was amazing! You were amazing!"
You smirked a bit as you saw his cheeks turning a slight pink shade.
Wrapping his arms around you, he kissed you on the head, squeezing you while doing so.
Hearing his parents congratulating him brought you out of your little bubble again, a blush covering your cheeks as you two normally weren't as affectionate in front of his parents.
Lamine kept his arm around you while he talked to his parents, you didn't really follow the conversation anymore, instead, you cuddled up to his side a bit more looking up to his face, admiring your boy, your goalscorer.
----------
Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome ! ❤️
#lamine yamal x reader#lamine yamal image#lamine yamal#spain#euros 2024#fc barcelona#barca#lamine yamal fluff
331 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE 10 BEST VIOLENT JAMES DEEN PORN SCENES (in my opinion)
when it comes to male porn actors, there's none i look up to or attempt to mimic more in the bedroom than James Deen. he is simply porn's "golden boy." the way he talks, acts, carries himself, and (of course) fucks in every rough scene he stars in is what i aspire to be. picking only 10 of his craziest documented sexual endeavors was difficult, but i think i've got a good list here. so without further ado, here it is, the 10 best JD scenes, in my humble opinion. go on, google is free, have some fun while you read. ❤️
Whore Wife (Cherry Torn, Kink™) - classic gangbang scene which is conveniently also where my header image is from.
Extreme Anal Queen (Adriana Chechik, ANALIZED.COM™) - rough bathroom anal scene. doggy over the sink is my favorite part. there's also a toilet involved. nasty stuff.
Pornoromance (Lia Lor, James Deen Productions™) - this scene has it all. any scene fully produced/released by the man himself is a good choice, this one is a cut above though.
Pornstar Punishment (Ashli Orion, Brazzers™) - schoolgirl scene. you'll notice there's a "fuckpig" element in most or all of these but this one especially, so much at times that some versions cut out some of the facial play/humiliation. i guess Brazzers wasn't rocking with it lol. if you can find one with the full footage, save that shit for real, cuz i ain't giving you it lmao.
Ravished By The Wrong Man (Lia Lor, Kink™) - second entry in this list with Lia Lor, this time with bondage. if that's your thing, then just like the last one, this too has it all. ropes, ball gags, i think a taser gets pulled out at some point? yeah.
BANG! Casting (Yhivi, BANG!™) - god, where do i even begin? the best chemistry on this list. Yhivi is absolutely adorable and she's having the time of her life in this scene getting used like a ragdoll. just violence, a couch and smiles. my personal fav.
Casey Calvert: Show Me Rough (ANALIZED.COM) - shifting over to the reality aspect now, from staged scenes and radical angles to camcorder vlogs and single recording positions. still hot as fuck. starts out with a great convo, then goes 0 to 100 seemingly almost out of nowhere.
James Deen's 7 Sins: WRATH (Carmen Caliente, Carmen Callaway, Dani Daniels, Delilah Davis, Janice Griffith, Jessica Ryan, Sadie Santana, Shay Ryan, Trinity St. Clair, Vyxen Steel) - i mean, i think the title and the cast list explains enough.
The Slutmother (Kelly Divine, Brazzers™) - another classic scene from the days of old. Deen really laid the hammer down with the face slapping in this one, which is funny bc it's a Godfather parody. don't know why he went so hard for something so comedic, but i love it.
BANG! Casting (Abella Danger, BANG!™) - struggled with this last slot but had to throw in another casting couch banger. this one is a doozy. i like the Yhivi one more because she's much more submissive/less aggressive than Abella is here but i mean jesus, this bitch gets trashed and thrashed in this one. there's a part where he chucks her into the wall and i laughed the first time i watched it. nasty, just nasty.
HOPE Y'ALL GET A KICK OUT OF THIS ONE YOU SICK FUCKS. ENJOY.
#cnc k!nk#cnc free use#r@pe fantasy#r@pe b@it#r@pe kink#r@pe k1nk#r@pe play#r4p3 kink#r@pe#r@pe k!nk#r4pepl4y#r4p3 m3#cnc rough#r@pe threats#r@pedoll#r@pesleeve#r@peslut#r@petoy#rough cnc
94 notes
·
View notes
Note
Matt and Fwb!reader
at a party she decides to flirt with someone else, i mean she is still single after all
Matt doesn’t like that much
BELONG TO ME ੈ♡˳ - M.S
pairing: (fwb!) matt x reader
summary: when you catch your fuck buddy bestfriend flirting with another girl at a party, you decide you need to distract yourself with a different guy. matt doesn't like that at all. you belong to him.
warnings: rough dom!matt, jealousy/possesivness, fingering, thigh riding, p in v, hair pulling, degrading, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, this one's wild so lmk if i missed anything!
word count: 3,137
authors note: i know nobody asked for me to write about thigh riding but i truly dgaf cause it's sexy ash. hope y'all enjoy <3
"pink" - reader speaking "blue" - matt speaking
suggested song while reading:
「 ✦house of balloons/glass table girls by the weeknd ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|• 0:10 ᯤ✦ 」
the walls in the house were vibrating with music. voices rose over one another. alcohol and perfume filled your nostrils and you were wandering around like a headless chicken to find your bestfriend matt, who had brought you here.
there was a good 10 minutes of being caught up in conversation, being pushed and shoved, as well as just pure confusion of the crowds of people that halted you from your search. but alas, through the crowd of people you recognize matt's black hoodie and grey tank. a smile returns to your face. you adjust your dress down from where it had risen as well as fix your hair a little. mouth open, you're about to call for your friend when you realize he wasn't just standing there conversating. there was a girl stood beside him. with the way his arm cradled her while she leaned on him there was practically no space between the two.
you wanted to keep walking up to him. wanted to not care. but something inside you physically ached at her being on the guy you were so close with. so intimate with. you had been so naked with. your bestfriend. without thinking you turned around, storming off in the other direction.
it took a few minutes, but not many for you to find a guy. handsome, but not matt really your type. it wasn't hard to convince him to come out to the backyard for a little space to have fun. once outside, the strangers hand grazed your thigh as the two of your lips mushed together. he tasted like beer and cigarettes. quite honestly? he kissed like a complete fucking idiot.. nothing like matt
but, he was decent looking. tall with a typically attractive (but douchey) face and damn well good enough to distract yourself from caring about someone else's endeavors. unbeknownst to you though, this would lead to just about anything but 'distracting yourself' from your bestfriend.
when you had seen matt with that girl, it was only as you were walking away that he saw you. matt had not as kindly as possible told the girl he had to go before chasing after you. he had been excited because he hadn't caught sight of you in about an hour or two- or at least he was excited till he watched you drag some random guy outside.
even though it was none of his buisiness, matt followed curiously until you, as well as the stranger, both exited the party. he stayed insde near the window to see what was happening. for two minutes he disgustedly obeserved a heated makeout that made his stomach turn. matt was finding it impossible to decide wether he had a right to go out there and stop it or not.
he wasn't your boyfriend after all. only the friend you fuck... right?
wrong. because the second that guy's hand brushed too close to the hem of your dress, matt was throwing open the back door. he came uncomfortably close to you and the stranger. you caught sight of his enraged features right away. you assumed something had happened and were immedietly concerned "matt hey what's wr-"
through gritted teeth, he interupted "we're leaving now. please." matt's tone was stern but he was trying not to upset you by being irrationally angry. you backed away from the stranger enough to take in matt's whole body language."what? why? the party isn't eve- matt!" matt had firmly but not too aggresively pulled you infront of him by your arm. away from the other guy. the other guy was completely dumbfounded and frozen, no clue what was happening. matt looked down at you with urgency "are you staying here with him.." he eyed the stranger with threat "or are you going with me to your house?" you could tell that whatever was wrong, he was angry enough that he was trying not to have some kind of outburst. although... you'd beg to differ that he already was.
you finally respond "you?" your tone was telling him 'obviously?'. before you can question him further, matt nods as he grabs your hand to drag you through the backgate. the whole way to the car you were asking matt why he was so eager to leave but it just fell on deaf ears.
the entire drive to your apartment his hand aggresively kneaded at your thigh so now you were assuming he left because he was horny. he made it clear that he'd tell you what was happening when you'd get home.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
the second the two of you entered your home you started asking questions while he slid his sweater and shoes off. "if you were horny we could've found a room there matt?" you said, still confused. he didn't respond to you as he undid his shoe laces. now you were concerned. "matt? say something c'mon"
once his shoes were off he stood to face you. he didn't wanna be toxic by yelling at or harassing you about some guy. but he couldn't just let it go either.
"who was that guy?" his voice comes out colder than he means it to. you shrug mindlessly "just some guy" you respond. before he can ask anything else you mutter "not that it's your buisiness". he looks down at you with a million emotions coursing through him, jealousy overcoming most of the others. "excuse me?" he seemed offended and it pissed you off since he started all this. "well since you were busy with some girl i figured i'd keep myself busy too." you stated.
he laughs sarcastically "i had an arm around her because she was drunk and i was physically pointing her in the right direction of where she was going. and yeah, i may have flirted a little" he steps closer to the point where you can feel his breath fan your face "you however- had that guys hand halfway up your fucking dress." even matt's surprised at his own tone. but you both know he'd never intentionally upset or hurt you though. "i was stupid for being jealous but at least i didn't drag you outta there. it's not like i'm your girlfriend matt. i'm not yours" you even hurt yourself with your last few choice of words.
"were you gonna let him touch you?" matt's voice shows that he's desperate for an answer. you roll your eyes. "not your buisiness." the second the words leave your lips he steps forward again, making you back up. he grabs your arm to keep you in place so now your noses brush and lips ghost one anothers. "were you?" he repeats. you can't believe how jealous he seems but something about it makes your thighs clench. "okay, jesus matt, yes. i was." you reply quickly. there's a moment where you can see his mind pool with thoughts. but before any of them come out, his lips smash onto yours. his hand going to the back of your head, in your hair. your lips meld into one anothers, but there's nothing gentle about it. his grip on your hair tightens as he backs you into a nearby dresser.
once he's done with kissing your lips practically raw, he begins to leave marks down your neck. "i don't care if i'm your friend-" he stops to suck at your neck "your bestfriend.." another harsh suck to your collarbone "your fuck buddy.." his free hand pulls your dress up a little "or the biggest pain in your ass ever." he cups your pussy through your underwear as he pulls your head back by your hair, elicting a whine from your throat "you're mine" his hand slithers into your panties and two fingers enter you as he seethes out "you belong to me." into your ear
"matt!" you cry out. he gives you no time to prepare before his long fingers are fucking you faster than you can even think. once he's studied your face and confirmed to himself that you're enjoying this side of him, he uses the leverage of his grip in your hair to pull your face to his, sloppily making out as his fingers abuse your cunt.
a moment later he pulls back again "think he would've known how you like to be touched?" matt questions as he thumb presses down on your clit just the way you like. shaking your head no, you grip his shoulders for support. he answers his own question "no. but i do. so are you his?" his question makes you clench around his fingers because you know where this is going. "n- ngh- no." "well than?"
"liste- uhh mm- i'm sorry i-" he cuts you off "no. i don't care. jus wanna know who you belong to" his thumb circles faster on your clit now, adding more pressure as well. "yo- mm!" he purposefully ruined your chance at speaking by curling his fingers into that one spot. the spongey spot inside you that makes your head spin and stomach turn.
his gives a look of faux sympathy "sorry sweetheart i didn't get that" his tone is convincingly sweet but you know better. giving him a glare, you repeat yourself "you, you asshole". a grin plasters on his face at the satisfaction. you said you belong to him. he also loved the way you mouthed off to him even if he wouldn't admit it "that's how you're gonna talk to me when im knuckles deep in you?" proving his point, he manages to push his fingers just a little deeper. this time when they curl you gasp and moan, gripping his shoulders. you lay your forehead on his chest, embarassed by how your cunt squeezes his fingers at every dirty word and little touch from him. he knows what he's doing. "matt c'mon" you beg.. even though you don't really want him to stop.
"what? you were shamelessly gonna let a stranger finger fuck you but now you're all shy, hm?" he releases your hair so he can pull the top of your dress down, exposing your tits. you only respond to him with a whine as his lips attach to your left nipple. you start to feel the knot in your stomach forming.
his teeth nip and suck making you arch your back, your chest pressing further toward him. your mouth opens, head tilted back. you're getting right to the edge. you're about to tell your bestfriend you need to cum when he slowly pulls his fingers out, hand emerging from under your dress.
you sigh and eye him annoyidly "matt." you complain, clenching around nothing. he releases your tit with a pop. "considering you were gonna let someone else touch you, you clearly don't appreciate how good i am at making you finish" as he talks he's guiding you over to your couch "so i think you should do it yourself so you can learn to appreciate how good i am to you" there's a cocky little smile on his face that he's trying to supress. before you get a chance to respond to him, he sits down and pulls you gently onto his thigh.
your dress bunches around the very tops of your thighs now, underwear still on you, completely drenched from him fingering you. staring at him, you don't process what he's telling you to do until his long fingers come up to grab your jaw, gently forcing eyecontact "ride my thigh." he instructs right before pushing his leg up, the light friction is just enough to effect you.
with how sensitive you already were, the lightest touches have you gone. your hips instinctively began rocking over the rough material of his jeans. your hands find his shoulders to steady yourself once again. his eyes are glued to your frustratedely needy expression. the way your lips part and your lashes flutter as you close your eyes makes his dick throb to be inside you.
although your clits getting some friction, the lack of having his fingers or more disirably his dick inside you is driving you insane. there's already a wet patch on his jeans from you. not surprising considering he has you completely soaked. your hips are already beginning to slow, finding it impossible to chase your orgasm just by fucking yourself on his thigh.
matt notices this. "tired, baby? you need help?" he teases. to add to it his thigh flexes again making you whine his name. it feels good but you need more. "fuck matt, please" you sigh out desperately. his long fingers take hold of your hips and begin rocking you at a steady pace, pushing you down onto his thigh. "this feel better?" he asks. you nod. there's a cockiness to his voice that makes you close your thighs tightly around his.
he looks down to see where you've already soaked his jeans as well as to see how your pussy's desperately grinding on him for whatever pleasure you can get. he looks back up now to see how your eyes are closed, focus in your features. pretty whines and moans spill one after the other. the more needy you get, the higher in pitch your needy little noises get. matt loves when he gets you like this. nothing in your head besides hoping he'll let you cum.
he himself is beginning to find it impossible to ignore the buldge that's straining the fabric of his jeans. for the second time tonight you start to feel your stomach twisting with the familiar ache of an upcoming orgasm. your thighs squeeze around his thigh even harder now.
"can i?" you whine. matt already knows what you want so his grip on your hips tightens bruisingly, forcing you to a sudden stop. your eyes open wide and you stare at him pleadingly, so worked up and out of breath that you can't bring yourself to protest or complain when he lifts you off him and sets you on the couch so that you're on your knee's, hands on the arm rest. he's standing now, removing his clothes. once he's finished, he gets comfortable behind you good thing you have a wide enough couch for the both of you and helps you with getting your panties off. he lines himself up, his tip teasing your hole.
your hips push back toward him needily but he grips them again to force them back into place. there's a long moment of nothing. you open your mouth to ask him what the hell's taking so long but it's replaced by a nearly pornographic noise at the feeling of his length filling you completely with 0 warning.
he pulls out with only the tip in before filling you completely again. "matt!" you cry out in pleasure (and a little pain from the stretch.) loving the way his name sounds from you, he wants to hear it again. he pulls out then fucks back into you. just like he wanted, his name falls from your lips.
his pace is on the slower side but every thrust is deep, hitting all the right spots. your nails are threatning to pierce the fabric of your couch. his name mixed with moans of pleasure come over and over again. matt's not a huge egotistical asshole or anything but he'd be lying if he didn't say that the control he has over you right now wasn't getting him off. he loves that you only become such a mess for him.
he loves that you belong to him
his hips are twitching and his thrusts are faster, needier. his hand finds your hair and he pulls you up so your back is against his chest. he knows he's close but he needs to make sure his girl his bestfriend comes first, so his other hand leaves your hip to come to your clit, rubbing fast circles that make you see stars.
he feels you clenching, hears your choked moans but decides to ask anyway. he wants to hear you say it. "you wanna cum for me baby?" he asks right in your ear, his voice goes straight to your cunt making you impossibly more turned on. you nod your head but that's not enough for him.
"use your words" "n-need to cum f- mph fuck!- for you" at the sound of your begging he nearly finishes but there's one more thing he needs to hear before he's done with you. "i'll let you cum if you- mmph- tell me who you belong to, y-yeah?" you can hear it in his voice, he's desperate too. but he wants needs the satisfaction of hearing that you're his. you groan with frustration "you, matt." your spit out at him. you don't care for his antics right now, just wanting to cum.
he uses his grip on your hair to tug your head to the side so he can make eyecontact with you. he can hear the ingenuity in your voice and he needs you to say it like you mean it. "say it again sweetheart." he demands, landing a light slap to your clit that elicts a whine from you. you can't take much more of this. "matt i need to cum pl-" "say. it. again." between each word he slams inside of you. you feel your legs begin to shake and mind going fuzzy.
"i'm yours, m-matt. i'm all yours"
"good girl. now go ahead and cum for me"
the words aren't even fully out of his lips when you coat his dick with your cum. your legs shake, mind a complete haze as he's fucking you through it. it doesn't take long before your body is basically limp. his grip on your hair and arm around you keeping you up.
he thrusts into you harshly just one more time before stilling, then you feel his seed fill and spill out of you. he stays there for a few seconds before pulling out, releasing his hold on you and gently guiding you to lay on the couch. he drops down behind you to hold you close, pulling a blanket from the top of the couch over the two of you.
for the next ten minutes your "bestfriend" lays behind you, his mouth peppering kisses along your shoulder silently, soothingly. you're the first to speak. "matt?" your voice comes quiet. "mhm?". "i'm assuming that meant you don't want me seeing other people?"
he pulls you closer against him "yea- well.. not unless you want us to be seeing other people??" there's a hint of concern in his voice. "absaloutely not." you say with no hesitation. you hear him let out a sigh of relief. there's a pause before you speak again "and matt?"
no response. "matt??" nothing.
you turn your head to see him fast asleep like a little baby.
idiot.
tags: @mattsrod @sturncakez
#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplets fanfic#sturnsdoll
237 notes
·
View notes
Text
i can see you, 𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔.
✫ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 . . . y/n cromwell was nothing if not a sophisticated, pampered, and ambitious socialite. she had lived in manhattan for about five years with her workaholic mother since her divorce with from her father. in the five years she had lived in the upper-east side, she had conquered the elites and made them her minions. she was living her best life until she heard the worst news she could ever fathom...
tristan dugray was nothing like y/n, in any sense other than maybe the fact they were both rich, spoiled and rather confident - okay, maybe they had more in common than what meets the eye. they hadn't seen each other since she had moved away with her mother five years ago and they were happy that way.
until of course, her mother decided it would be best for y/n to spend the next few months with her father back in connecticut after y/n got in trouble with her friend group. what y/n didn't know until she eventually got to connecticut was that her father was engaged to none other than tristan dugray's mother. how could her year get any worse?
✫ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ;; tristan dugray x fem!reader, platonic!paris geller x reader, platonic!rory gilmore x reader
✫ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ;; not canon gilmore girls timeline (for the most part), rom-com energy, adult humor, asshole!tristan, family issues, the rest is to be determined...
✫ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ;; i am rewatching gilmore girls and of course, i've been inspired to write a fanfic because there are not enough tristan fanfics on tumblr. i hope y'all enjoy, this is very self-indulgent lmao. i love tristan sm and i think a rom-com esk fanfic would bring me (and everyone) so much joy. thank you so much for reading! let me know if i should make a taglist for this series.
dedicated to my beautiful best friend, @autumntales 🩷
main masterlist. gilmore girls masterlist. playlist.
0 of 15 chapters published. started: july 31, 2023 deadline: october 1, 2023
prologue
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
. . .
#gilmore girls oc#gilmore girls fic#gilmore girls fanfiction#gilmore girls x reader#gilmore girls#gilmore girls fandom#gilmore girls season 2#rory gilmore#lorelai gilmore#emily gilmore#luke danes#gilmore girls rp#alexis bledel#tristan dugray x reader#gilmore girls tristan x reader#gilmore girls tristan#tristan gilmore girls#tristan dugray#tristan dugray fanfic#tristan dugray x you#gilmore girls paris#paris geller x reader#paris geller#rory gilmore aesthetic#rory gilmore icons#rory gilmore x reader#lane kim#jess mariano#rory x jess#logan huntzberger
948 notes
·
View notes
Text
New Story Alert!!!🧚🏾♀️
"𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞…"
❥ After discovering a strange yet alluring red book in a boutique bookstore, you find yourself sucked into a strange world, where all of your inner most desires exist...
Pairings: Wakasa Imaushi X Musician! Black Fem Reader🤎 (ANYONE CAN READ🧚🏾♀️) Tags: Authors AU, sci-fi, retro 80's/neon futuristic world, smutty romance, good girl! reader, reader is a talented nerd, slight corruption kink, sexual tension, "cyber-world"
Out Now: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝒟𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓇𝑒𝓈 Wakasa Imaushi x Black! Fem Reader🤎 (ANYONE CAN READ)
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 0:57 ————|——— -2:10
Volume: ■■■■■□□□
Chapter Masterlist: Ongoing (Coming soon)
┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝒟𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓇𝑒𝓈
ɪɴᴛʀᴏ 𝟏 || 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟐 || 𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝟑 || 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝟒 || 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝟗 𝟓 || 𝐃𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝟔 || 𝐀𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝟕 || 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝟖 || 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐚
└────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘
A/N🧚🏾♀️: I already know some of y'all bouta be like "Now girl, if you don't finish them other damn stories". But bruh let me cook y'all😭!!! I really like this idea and I've been DYING to write for Wakasa for like...ever for real. But anywayssss🤭 I hope y'all enjoy this new story!!! COMING SOON
#strawberryfairi🧚🏾♀️#The Book of Desires🌹#black fem reader#tokyo rev#wakasa imaushi#wakasa imaushi x reader smut#black female writer#authors au#fem reader#tokyo revengers x black reader#wakasa#wakasa imaushi smut#imaushi wakasa#smutty fanfic#smut warning#new story#new story alert
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dasher - Choso
A/N: I've stumbled upon a couple posts online where dashers have gotten upset because they weren't tipped enough and I wasn't trying to be part of that narrative 😅; I ordered food last week and I felt bad because I didn't have enough to tip the dasher via card so I texted them letting them know hey sorry funds are a bit tight but I can only tip you this much, thankfully they were understanding! To all the dashers y'all are real ones! Enjoy~!!
Grabbing your meal from the restaurant Choso hopped in his car inputting the directions to your apartment into his GPS. As he was about to reverse he noticed tip: $0. Fuck it he thought. Squinting as a message notification popped up he read:
"Hi! I have cash as a tip so please don't think I don't want to tip you :'( thanks!"
Chuckling he made his way to your apartment ringing the buzzer to your apartment complex. "Hello?"
"Door dash order for Y/N L/N." you shivered and clenched your thighs at the baritone voice from the other end. "I'll ring you in." Finding himself in front of your door he knocked, stepped back, and as he heard the door open found himself gazing at your beautiful plush, brown skinned figure. He tried not to be creepy but he couldn't stop his eyes taking in your black silk pajama set: tank top enveloping your full breasts, a small portion of your tummy peeking out, the shorts stopping mid thigh and fuzzy sliders. "Choso?"
"Yes, here you go."
"Thanks! I have something for you." He inwardly groaned watching you dig through your shorts pocket for the cash, the silk sliding to and fro against your delicious full thighs he wished he could lay his head on - between. "Sorry," you blush. "Sometimes these shorts be swallowin' shit up."
"I don't mind." he awkwardly offered.
"Ah! Here it is." Handing him the $25 you explain, "I know it's old fashioned but I read online that sometimes big companies keep a majority of the tips to themselves and I'm not tryna rob y'all of all your hard work, especially considering that you're grabbing my meal."
"Well thank you, I appreciate it."
"No problem," you warmly smiled. Gawd Choso wished he could bask in your smile longer. "Well," you sadly proffer. "Thank you Choso. I hope I'll see you around." Before fully shutting the door Choso shouted, "W-wait!"
"Yes?"
"I ugh I normally don't do this and I can't believe I am it's just that you're um really pretty and I want to keep talking to you. Your voice sounds like honey and it's very soothing-" reaching your hand out to stop his rambling you giggle. "I want to get to know you too pretty boy." Choso just about died at the nickname and could feel the blood rushing to his cock, praying that you don't notice as you both exchange numbers.
#jujutsu kaisen#choso#choso x chubby reader#choso x plus size reader#choso kamo#kamo choso#jjk choso#chousou#choso jjk#jujutsu kaisen choso#jujutsu sorcerer#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#choso x reader#choso fluff#kamo jjk#kamo x reader#jjk au
113 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii :D
for first i wanted to say that i love your blog and the way you describe the characters!
can i request HC of the characters on valentine's day? if you don't want to do it to everyone, it could be just Travis and Sal. i'll let you decide there, take as much time as you want and if you don't want to do it, everything is fine. (i hope i wrote it well, it's a bit difficult for me to write in english)
HIII! thank you so much for the compliments it is very heart warming :( SOrry im late about your request HAHAH I will indeed do Sal and Travis only,,, you know me so well anon ,,, You wrote everything perfectly !! I couldn't have guessed if you didn't tell me :) ILY REQUESTS ARE OPEN PEOPLE! LOOK ALIVE! /ref but plz everyone, read my carrd In my bio before submitting.. its upsetting to see asks that doesn't meet my rules...
SAL AND TRAVIS ON VALENTINES DAY
Type : Headcanons
Warnings: None! Mostly Fluff sorry y'all I don't write nsfw
SAL
= Sal prepared some things for you by the gentle help of Ashley, because sal didn't know how to please you and Ash is your best friend.
= I think Sal would make you a valentines boo basket like the ones you see on TikTok. Filled with your favourite chocolates and CDS, cute slippers, horror movie blanket, jewelry and some surprises connected to your interests.
= He would come by your apartment/house and wear ''clean clothes'' ( Jeans he washed the night before and his favourite shirt lol), with his nails freshly painted of a beautiful black colour.
= He also brought movies to watch, romantic ones you say? Hell nah this Sal Fisher, he brought horror movies that you would enjoy.
= You were so happy by his gifts that you jumped right into his arms and dragged him into your room, he cuddled and kissed you A BUNCH because boy was he happy his partner liked what he bought them. He filled your entire face with kisses, when Sal started he couldn't stop.
= After all the affection was received, you two were stuck on the couch, under your new blanket, cuddling and watching movies. For the occasion Sal took off his mask, only if no one was there that day, which made you very happy and flustered to see your lover's face after a long day.
TRAVIS (ARGHBHHH EEEK ^0^DNWAODNSNF)
= Travis already struggles with showing affection, it was very hard to warp his mind around celebrating for the first time in his life Valentines day with his boyfriend.
= He also had to ask Ashley because she's your best friend after all, she recommended following his heart and doing something classic to not stress him too much. And that he did!
= My sweet boy put on a suit for you and bought flowers, not just any flowers tho, Travis believe in flower language. Which is that every single flower has a different meaning when given. He carefully chose Daisies (I truly love you), Red Carnation (My heart aches for you), Honey Suckles (Devoted affection) and lastly, Salvia Red (forever mine). Yes he could've chosen classic roses but he felt like you might think that he didn't put in any effort.
= This boy is an hopeless romantic and decided to write you a letter about his true feelings since he was so bad at expressing them in front of you, words couldn't leave his mouth but they were flowing with the help of his fountain pen.
= He then picked up gourmet chocolates, a bit expensive but he thought it would make you happy. Ashley suggested that he makes a mixtape of your favourite songs on a cassette since you had a walkman. He made 2 mixtapes, one of your favourites and the other one is songs that reminds him of you.
= He showed up to your door in the evening and your jaw dropped, seeing your boyfriend in a suit made you feel things you've never felt before. He felt super happy by your reaction and the letter was so profound it made you cry. You also knew flower language and you were basically bawling because of the effort (and money) he spent on you.
OKAY DONE ! you guys can see that I prefer travis over sal oops,,, I hope everyone still loved it! plz plz plz send me things because im desperate.... I love you all guys.......
#sallyface#sally face#todd morrison#larry johnson#ashley campbell#sal fisher#travisphelps#sf#sally face hcs#sally face fanfiction#sally face headcanons#sally fisher#sally face game#sally face one shots#sal fisher oneshot#sal fisher headcanons#sal fisher imagine#sal fisher x reader#travis phelps hcs#travis phelps imagine#travis phelps x reader#travis phelps
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
Re: Catching Up
Finally reading the reblogs and mentions of my tag game (my main reason for starting that was to read about what y'all are up to while I neglected tha dashboard lolol) and dumping some replies here to some peeps I follow^^
General note to all: so happy to see the multiple excited reactions to Inside Out 2 hehehe, I loved it so much T0T
@crazy-as-a-jaybird THE SIMS 4 LOVESTRUCK!!!!! I didn't know that was coming! I haven't played the sims in a long time, but gee that's exciting news, thnx! ..... I wonder if there will be some nice loveydovey tickle animations in there....
@italeean "You guys probably already know what I'll say" (about Jujutsu Kaisen 0 movie), actually I don't know 👀 it's been a while since I saw that movie when it was released in the cinema here, but you made me curious to your reaction. What did you think? :3
@giggly-squiggily omg Blue Lock & Haikyuu hypehype and did you also love to see these lazy gamer guys Kenma and Nagi dominate the big screens as heroes to their respective movies, so shortly after each other, what a time to be alive 🤩
@fantasizes-tickles-daily My Adventures with Superman ng;dngifdgjdhljfni;oji I still need to start the new season but omfg I'm so glad finally someone else is into this hehehe, I love that! I'm also not a big DC fan, I didn't even see most movies, but I LOVE THIS ONE. Clark is the cutest isn't he?
@eliankrios YOU PLAY THE SIMS 4????? 👀 also thank you for those banger song recs. I only knew 'save my life' from xandria but not valentine or others :3
@wertzunge Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves, I saw that one on the plane a while ago, I enjoyed that too!!! I wonder if they will do more :3 I never played the game though....
@tiklart SHARK MOVIE SUFFERERS WE ARE HAHA, also good luck on your exams!🫶 sending good luck vibes~
@gladdygirl18 ❤️❤️❤️ sending good love life prayers, hope all will go well! and yay for fellow minecraft enjoyer :D
@sunstone-smiles I LOVE ESPRESSO odjs;dgjhih ih but I didn't like it at first either :') it had to grow on me too.
@kusuguricafe seeing you talk about your genshin abyss teams makes me go 💀💀💀 it's been so long since I played genshin, especially abyss. Are you managing the 3 stars each chamber f12 cuz I've only succeeded like once at it or smth. oh and I hope you'll have fun writing again soon! Don't push yourself too much for tickletober, as long as it stays fun*w*
@blobbirobbi wow I knew all 3 of those artists but not those songs, thnx for the recs :D especially the Måneskin hohoho
@sleepysheepytea feels indeed like ages since I saw your activity on my dash, wishing you the best of luck with work and stuff^^
@hypahticklish that was literally my reaction too to the movie The Fall Guy, I loved that so much and you described it so well 😍 I thought it would be a "Haha funny" movie but it really moved me and I also didn't expect the first part to be so emotional. p.s. thnx for the blank copy paste, sorry for forgetting 🥲🥲
@a-fluffer-nutter wow good luck on the move to the UK and congrats on 8 years tumblr, I still remember you being one of the first tk blogs i encountered 😌
@lovelymessybubbly wooow it feels like AGES, sorry to hear about the low mental energy but hope you're doing well ^^!
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
His Love
|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|
Part Twenty-One
Masterlist of Series
Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.
Author's Note: I hope life hasn't been too terrible for y'all while I've been gone xD. While on this little vacation, I realized I have Computer Vision Syndrome (CVS). I know that sounds silly, but it actually really fucking sucks. When I write for a long period on my laptop screen (like 5 hours), I get awful eye pain, headache, migraines, blurred vision, vertigo, and nausea. I've learned different tips and tricks to help with it, so I'm doing much better. Thank y'all so much for letting me enjoy my break, and happy reading!
P.S. Updates will still be Sun/Mon.
Chapter Warnings: 0-100 real quick but with sexism, extreme anti-bastard language, minor ableist language, panic attack.
"My blood is red and unafraid of living, beginning to end.
I'm liquid smooth, come touch me too,
And feel my skin is plump and full of life, I'm in my prime.
I'm at my highest peak.
I'm ripe, about to fall, capture me."- Liquid Smooth, Mitski.
Surprisingly, life had proceeded smoothly after your tumultuous reappearance at Kings Landing. You expected more hardships to come, but astonishingly, they had yet to arrive.
However, becoming used to Aegon's advances took time. Following like a lost puppy everywhere you went, never far from his beloved little Princess. Much to your chagrin, people began to group you and the wastrel prince as a pair. Where one was, the other was sure to be.
Queen Alicent had dubbed you Aegon's keeper, ensuring he was not frequenting the Silk Streets and gambling houses as he once did. Playing the role of the Prince's Mother wasn't enjoyable at first, but you understood how much of an advantage this was, and a part of you grew to like it. It was the only sturdy aspect in your life, comforting and tending to Aegon's needs like a nursemaid, and should questions arise from your frequent sightings within the eldest son's apartments, the Queen herself would explain the rumors away.
Alicent prayed to the Seven that providing close contact with Aegon would convince you to see her reasons behind the line of succession and sway you to believe them. Even if that didn't work, she still found a way to control her scoundrel of a son and keep the blanket of shame from lying upon their backs. The Queen did not worry herself about the idea that her son might attempt to corrupt you. She was sure that if Aegon tried anything, you would physically overpower him and that her son's poor, borderline misogynistic words he called flirting would not work on a sensible woman like you.
Alicent had yet to inform her father of the schemes she concocted, and Lord Otto Hightower grew wary of the Bastard Princess and the Drunken Prince's time together. He knew of your loyalty to your family and how you believed with your entire soul that destroying centuries' worth of tradition and precedent would better the realm. By putting Rhaenyra on the throne, a girl he watched grow into a woman uncaring of duty, you would somehow prove yourself better than your worth.
But that was not how things were. That was not how dynasties secured their reign for millennia.
Upon reflecting on the situation, Otto realized he couldn't separate Aegon from you, for he was permanently attached to your hip. He needed someone under his thumb that you deemed trustworthy. Perhaps a knight that you respected and felt a familiarity with?
Otto summoned Ser Arryk to his study during the moment of realization. He tasked the Kingsguardmen to become your protector in the Red Keep regarding your newly appointed status as Small Council member. Lord Hightower knew it was a lie, and he understood you would too, but was comforted by the notion that Ser Arryk would accept this task with duty, honor, and integrity and would not fail him.
Yet, Arryk's reports back to him were trivial. He gave the Hand information he already knew and, at moments, even made him doubt putting the White Cloak to the task. The only thing that sparked Otto Hightower's interest was how many letters departed from the Rookery. At one point, when the Lord was genuinely desperate, he opened a letter addressed to Dragonstone, hoping to find something, anything that would give him that edge, but was greeted with a language he didn't understand and hot embarrassment for having been caught by the newly appointed Grand Maester Orwyle after the death of his predecessor.
But it was no matter, the Hand told himself. He learned how to wait. Otto Hightower spent many years playing a game no one else knew they were in and had not failed yet, for his daughter was crowned Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms, and his grandson was in line to inherit the Iron Throne. Otto Hightower had to be patient, as he always was, and everything would fall into place.
***
The eldest Prince's head rested in your lap, his violet orbs following the shapes of the white cotton clouds in the afternoon sky. You watched Princess Helaena search for bugs on the underside of leaves, quietly humming to yourself a song Rhaenyra had sung to you on many occasions.
You had just finished picnicking with him, Helaena, and her children, the tots handed to a nursemaid after little Jaehaerys fell asleep in your arms. It was a request by Aegon to his sister-wife to have them all for lunch. An idea you planted in his head that initially did not include a third person, but upon Aegon's manipulation Helaena allowed you to come—explaining something about how good you were with his son and that it would be practice for when you made the eternal sacrifice that was the act of raising children. Helaena immediately brightened at the notion of you possibly bringing more babes into the Keep and agreed immediately.
A nuzzling sensation on your stomach stole you from your contented trance, looking down to see Aegon pressing his nose into the crevice where your stomach overlapped the apex of your thighs. He continued the movements as you glanced over to Helaena, ensuring she was still distracted by the pair of mating green beetles she found.
"Aegon," you chastised, cocking a brow at the burrowing Prince. "Your wife is standing ten and five paces from us."
"And?" he prompted, nipping at the thin golden fabric of your natural waistline.
"And she could suddenly become disinterested in the pair of breeding insects and see her lord husband burying his face into the navel of another woman," you snapped, slightly curling your lip as your fingers glided over his scalp.
"Helaena would not care. She is my sister," Aegon flippantly retorted, his words muffled by your gut.
You rolled your eyes, the ring of purple shimmering in the Spring daylight and momentarily distracting Aegon. "She is your wife by law and the divine. 'Tis an insult for you to be so openly disrespectful of your ties," you answered cooly.
The Prince groaned, the noise muffled by silk and flesh as he moved his hands, swiftly palming at your breasts before he sat upright.
"Your observations are always appreciated, little one, but I believe those skills could be put to better use," he teased, giving your tits another squeeze as you stifled a squeal before separating to a proper distance.
"Rotten prince!" you whispered heatedly to Aegon, glancing at Helaena again.
He snickered in response, taking a swig of the imported strawberry mead from Drone to hide his smirk. "I seem to remember you calling me a different name last night." He gulped down the drink, releasing a satisfied exhale. "What was it again? Good boy? My sweet Prince?" He feigned forgetfulness, gazing into the blue sky with a stubby digit tapping his chin. "Oh, that's right! I remember now! 'Twas-"
You launched across the patterned blanket the servants had placed and tackled Aegon, covering his mouth with your fist as he squealed like a captured piglet. He wriggled like one as you attempted to punch his cherubic cheeks, legs straddling his torso.
Suddenly, your name was called, startling you and causing your hands to move from Aegon's body and rest your weight fully atop his waist. You feared the worst. Helaena, furious at you and storming over to have you escorted from Kings Landing for your scandalous actions, destroying your plans.
"Please, don't hurt him too badly," Helaena said, still focused on the beetles. "I am certain whatever caused this isn't worth murdering him over, but if you must..." She trailed off, turning her hand over as the emerald bug crawled across the back of it. "I have not seen anything."
It took a few blinks to realize she was jesting. Her monotone, almost dreamy voice did not indicate if she was. A hint of a smile graced Helaena's thin, peony lips, a devilish glint within your eyes as you bent your knees to attack.
"Devious women! Evil women, the lot of you!" Aegon cursed in faux protest, wrestling his arms with yours as a grin split your face.
And that was how Ser Arryk found you, straddling the eldest son of the King as you rolled over the top of each other like fighting wolves, kicking the large wicker basket to his feet on accident. He cleared his throat as he reached you, Aegon using the distraction to his advantage as he flipped you over onto your stomach, mouth centimeters away from your neck.
"Princess," Ser Arryk interrupted awkwardly. Aegon deflated against you at the sound of his voice, resting his forehead on your shoulder in defeat.
"Good afternoon Ser Cargyll," you chirped, trying to control the blush that crept across your cheeks. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?"
Arryk's gaze flickered to the protruding flesh of your bosom before swiftly averting his eyes to the blooming shrubs. He cleared his throat again, the notch bobbing as he swallowed.
"The Hand has ordered a meeting of the King's Council, your Grace. 'Tis an urgent matter," he answered, his back ramrod straight.
You sighed in acknowledgment, using your palms to arch your body and shove Aegon off, his short nails catching on the embroidered beads of your dress. He groaned in annoyance as he flopped onto the ground dramatically, reminding you of Jaehaerys during one of his tantrums.
Righting yourself, you smoothed the golden fabric of your gown, which Helaena commissioned for you as a Maiden Day gift and finally felt appropriate enough to wear. You nodded at the Kingsguardmen, walking a few paces before turning to face Helaena and Aegon, the latter pouting like the spoiled boy he was.
"I apologize that our picnic must be shortened, my Prince and Princess. I'm sure we could meet for supper if that is feasible," you offered with a tilt of your head.
Helaena nodded, strolling over to her sulking brother as she nudged him with her slippered foot.
Arryk observed the interaction as he waited, his eyes trailing to places of sin. The way your flowing silk dress hugged your skin, the white pearls on the neckline complimenting your intricately styled ebony hair. Bronze beads were sewn on the gold fabric in a way that reminded him of a weeping willow, the same little balls threaded into your thin sleeves in a swirling pattern. His gaze danced over your curves next, your hips, waist, arse, anything he could see before you faced him once more, a brilliant smile on your lips.
Shame ran hot through his veins as he made contact with Aegon, his eyes dark and stare piercing. Arryk had only seen looks like that from men set to battle, hardening themselves for imminent slaughter. He knew of the Prince's quick anger, a secondhand source of it from his brother. Whatever Aegon was thinking, or more so planning, Ser Arryk didn't want to be a victim of.
He quickly turned, making his way towards an entrance of the Keep without regarding the sole reason he came. You watched Ser Cargyll's retreating form, throwing a perplexed look at Helaena and Aegon before following him, the string of pearls around your waist swaying with the movement.
Once you both were far enough away from the Godswood, you stood in Arryk's pathway, hands on your hips.
"Why did you leave so abruptly? 'Tis hardly proper as a member of the Kingsguard to turn your back on his kin," you interrogated.
"My apologies, Princess," Arryk bowed, muscles tense.
Your face soured, cringing at the emotionless sound of his voice. "None of that," you waved your hands, dismissing the subject. "Twas odd, is all. I've never seen you act in such a way before. It concerns me." You paused, pursing your lips as you glanced at the cracked red stone floors, moving closer to him. "Did Lord Hightower inform you why the meeting was called? Is that the reason for your callousness?"
Ser Arryk swallowed the lump in his throat that formed while watching your concerned face scrunch, the violet in your eyes becoming larger as your pupils shrunk in the daylight. He couldn't answer your questions truthfully without knowing your relationship with Aegon, redirecting the conversation to something more comfortable.
"I am unaware of the reason," Arryk answered instead, his posture still tense as he spoke. "It's rather unusual for the Hand to do this, no?" He noted the brief scowl that pulled your mouth, tucking your lips in to nibble at them.
"Yes. You are correct, Ser Cargyll," you nodded, pivoting on the balls of your feet as you proceeded with your journey. "It unnerves me greatly if you do not mind me speaking freely." You glanced at him in your peripherals. He encouraged you to continue, following a respectable distance. "The last time something like this happened, Grand Maester Mellos passed, and Mother encouraged me to have her Maester put forth. 'Twas humiliating when Lord Hightower said it was the Citadel's decision, not the King's."
You pinched the bridge of your nose at the memory, shame, and regret burning your ears to this day. Ser Arryk chuckled at your recollection and, without thinking better of it, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder as a friend or companion would. He recoiled faster than a striking snake once he realized, clenching his fist behind his back in abashment.
You peered at him curiously with a raised brow, assessing the situation. The knight had forgotten himself, acting more of an acquaintance than a protector. Some of you wanted to dismiss what happened and brush it off as a mistake anyone would make when spending nearly every waking moment with someone. Still, the other more intellectual side saw the opportunity that had just presented itself, and who were you to ignore it?
In your hopes that it was amicable, a grin crossed your face, hooking your opulent arm with his armored one, encouraging him to keep walking and that you weren't offended by his actions. You continued your conversation as if nothing had happened, explaining to him more times that you made a fool of yourself during court and your anxiety with the impending Lords you were about to face. Arryk listened intently, offering consoling words each time you finished, eventually loosening his flexed muscles. Once you were a few paces away from the Council Chambers, you parted from Ser Cargyll with a polite smile, asking him to wait outside the doors until the meeting was done. He, of course, agreed, finding a spot alongside the wall as you entered.
Insecurity flipped your stomach as the few Lords stared at you, each of their expressions one of shock. You gazed back at them, unsure of the reason for their behavior, as your nails dug crescents into your blanched palms. Alicent was the only person with a neutral look, hiding the faint smile on her plush lips between her hands as she sat in the high-backed chair at the end of the long table.
Lord Tyland Lannister smirked as you signaled Aemond to pour a glass of wine, needing the courage the firewater brought. You followed the direction of his eyes, realizing they were on your outfit, glancing between the pearl dragon earrings and necklace to the shimmering gold of your gown. You understood it was something you would have never chosen yourself, more comfortable in your red and dark day-to-day palette, but it was a gift from a princess, and you weren't expecting an impromptu meeting. It would be best if you had changed before attending, you nervously thought.
Lord Beesbury was the last member to join, rushing in with a flurry of robes and parchment, the scrolls tumbling out of his arms. You rose to help him and gathered the fallen documents, ignoring the impatient groans of the men above you. Lord Laymen gave you a grateful smile, dropping the scrolls in a pile on the oak table before seating himself.
Otto Hightower broke the thick silence with a sigh and clap of his hands.
"I apologize for the abruptness of this meeting, but I have news regarding aid to the Stepstones," he announced uncharacteristically cheery. "We have received the shipments requested earlier than initially thought, and our Master of Coin's secretary has counted everything himself."
You couldn't hide the annoyed tick of your jaw for not knowing this news first. Lord Laymen was told to come to you regarding when the imports arrived. He was the Master of Coin, and a portion of his duties lay in the imports and exports of Kings Landing. You felt a sense of betrayal at the man, your usual cordial look towards him replaced with an icy one.
"This is wonderful news," Lord Lannister replied boisterously, a smile hidden underneath his beard. "Mayhaps we'll finally be done with this Triarchy nonsense, and Lord Corlys will prevail." The Master of Ships raised his half-empty cup, everyone except for you mimicking his actions. "A toast," he hollered, looking at everyone at the rectangular table as you swiftly lifted your drink to match them, "to the Bastard Princess for finally ending this Gods forsaken war."
"Hear, hear," rang out in the room from all the men, only the two women posing across each other, keeping their mouths shut. You downed the entire contents of the blood-orange wine in one go, swallowing the biting insult that threatened to spill from your mouth at the namesake.
"Thank you, my Lord Tyland, but we shouldn't partake in any victory celebrations yet," you said, false appreciation in your tone. "I would like to see the shipments myself if that is all right with you, Lord Beesbury? 'Tis not that I don't trust your secretary; this project is something dear to me, and I would feel at peace if I were there to ensure it in person."
The older Lord nodded almost ludicrously, "Of course, Princess. We shan't proceed without your approval."
Tossing a saccharine smile to the gentleman under your dark lashes as Lord Jasper chimed in. "Princess, I would like to accompany you in the process. As the Master of Laws, I must ensure they have the required documentation to sail to Dragonstone. We have increased our naval patrol over Blackwater Bay, and I would hate for the goods to be confiscated. If they were, it would be out of my hands then."
You raised a skeptical eyebrow at Lord Wylde, unable to hide the look of disbelief on your face. It felt like an unnecessary request of Lord Jasper, and it insulted you to have him think he could get away with it. "They got here fine, did they not? Refrain from troubling yourself with such trivial tasks. I would be surprised if those men could even read," you quipped, forgetting the courtly tone excepted of you.
Suddenly, the room went noiseless, the joyful feeling replaced with something else.
"Many would say the same about a woman like yourself—a bastard from the slums of Flea Bottom sitting on the King's Small Council. Most people would think you suited elsewhere," Ser Jasper sneered, slighted by your remarks.
Your face grew scalding, your hands balling into fists on your lap. You couldn't contain the following words, the inherited rage from the Rouge Prince boiling to the surface. "Why? Are you looking for another wife? Gods rest her soul."
Gasps filled the room. Everyone, even the One-Eyed Prince, was stunned at the venom that had just spewed from your lips. It had only been a month since the passing of Lord Jasper's wife, not yet through the mourning period. You wanted to take it back as soon as you sounded it. Not because of how vile it was but because it cracked the mask of righteousness you wore with pride, showing how much you were truly like your reckless father—the man who slaughtered the innocents of Flea Bottom over a decade ago.
"It would fit you better," he snapped, "wailing in pain while you served the only purpose a woman like you is good for."
You shot out from your chair, nostrils flaring and lifting your skirt before thinking better of it in an endeavor to unsheath your dagger.
"Enough!" The Queen shouted, stopping you from doing something you wouldn't survive to regret. "The Princess shall survey the shipments without company. This meeting is finished."
Each member left the chambers like frightened deer; even the Hand himself left in such a hurry that it shocked Queen Alicent herself. You could feel their lingering stares as they went, putting your cutlass back in its proper place before flickering your glare to the only occupants still brave enough to stay. Aemond stared at you with regard of what could only be interpreted as amazement, his one purple eye wide and bow lips parted like a suffocating fish would—Alicent, still seated, staring at her raw cuticles, a shadow cast over her heart-shaped face from her forearms.
You left with a succinct curtsy and newfound gratefulness for the Queen, pushing the hair that had fallen over your shoulders behind you and meeting the bewildered gaze of Ser Arryk. He would undoubtedly heard the loud screech of your chair as you nearly pounced on Ser Jasper Wylde, and you could see the concern etched in the fine lines of his skin. You disregarded his outstretched hand that wishfully asks to link arms again, the skirt of your dress nearly causing you to trip from your brisk pace. Arryk swallowed the bitter discomfort that formed in his throat at the denial and caught up to you with haste.
"Your Grace, are you well?" The knight oppugned.
"Quite well. Thank you, Ser Cargyll," you gagged, swatting away a strand of hair that blew into your mouth. Arryk's armor clanked with his swift gait, his white cloak billowing behind him.
"Are you sure, my Lady? I heard a commotion moments before the meeting adjourned," he prodded, hoping you would answer his unasked question.
"I tripped Lord Larys, and he fell into his chair, finally putting the poor cripple out of his misery," you snarled, unsure of your destination as you continued moving. "Is that what you want me to say, hmm?" You stopped abruptly, whipping your body around to face him. "That the wildling bastard Aegon Targaryen found in Flea Bottom is an eel like everyone else? Mayhaps I should go back and live amongst my fellow leeches."
Ser Arryk stared at you in stunned confusion, shock, and befuddlement about where your frustrations and sudden outburst originated.
"Princess-" He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came, lips curling and uncurling as he tried to find the proper expressions. Arryk finally gave up, his cerulean stares closing as he straightened his posture, becoming the impersonal Kingsguard he trained to be.
Even in your rage, Arryk still found you beautiful. Your inklike mane was braided skillfully in a half up half down style, golden pearl pins framing the soft features of your countenance. Immediately he buried the thought, a blush dusting across his pale cheeks. He desired desperately that moment he had his helmet covering the pink. You soughed, realizing your anger was misplaced, and crossed your arms, the bronze beads of your dress catching one another.
Before you could apologize, you caught a blur of green in the distance, the Queen Consort walking purposefully towards you, a firm yet serene expression on her soft face. The knight took note of your gaze, no longer on him, and turned, his posture impossibly more tense than before.
You both bowed in unison as she halted, dismissing Ser Arryk with the wave of her emerald and peridot jeweled fingers. Eyeing her curiously, you fell beside her, assuming she wanted to talk privately. Queen Alicent hushed as you trekked the long winding hallways of the Keep, waiting for the palace's inhabitants to thin before speaking.
"Twas unbecoming of Lord Wylde to speak in such a manner. I want to apologize on his behalf Princess," she said, causing your stomach to tighten.
The Queen never apologized; not once could you recall a moment where she indeed had. High-borns never sought remorse for their actions from those beneath them. They believed themselves above such things, especially a Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You were just a princess, not even in line for the Iron Throne should something tragic happen to the people before you, and yet Alicent was seeking forgiveness. Not even for her actions!
"I believe your apology is unwarranted; you've done nothing wrong. I should hear this from Lord Jasper and not you, my Queen," you replied, flicking a brown and purple eye at her.
Alicent clasped her hands together, a position they seemed never to leave as she nodded grimly. "Yes, I agree, but he would never wound his pride like that. 'Tis the only thing men like him have."
You couldn't hide your disbelief, trying not to bring attention to your reaction lest she decide to rescind this brief moment of peace between you. While her mocking slightly disarmed your caution, you still trod carefully, not adding anything to what you thought of "men like Lord Jasper Wylde." When Queen Alicent saw you would not further her chaffing, she quieted, the delicate grin on her plush lips fleeting.
"It was sad, what he said," Alicent continued thoughtfully, "about your lineage." You glanced at her from the corners of your eyes, not indicating your thoughts. "It's unfair that you're the only bastard who receives nothing."
You quizzically raised a manicured brow at her, willing your mouth not to scowl. "How so?"
"Your adopted brothers. It is no secret that their father is not who Rhaenyra claims to be." You didn't hide the distaste from your look, ceasing your pace alongside her.
"Careful where you tread, my Queen. Some might think what you're implying is treasonous."
Her nude lips pouted, her aureate viridian earrings swaying as she followed. "I know you believe it to be true. I trust that there is comfort in numbers, I suppose. The more bastards in the House, the more likely one would be willing to accept their claim."
Rolling your eyes, you huffed, continuing the direction Alicent had set, yet not knowing where it was to be.
"Truly, I do not understand where this hate of bastards comes from. Men have them more than legitiment ones; why is the Heir not held to the same standard?" you griped, ignoring the Queen's unhurried footfalls to catch up to you.
"Because men do not give their bastards titles. They are not set to inherit what their father has, just as you're not."
You stopped striding again, storming to Alicent like an orange flame emerging from a dragon's throat. "I do not need more titles or gold. My worth is not defined by a piece of parchment or coin like yours." Your chest heaved, the necklace resting upon it, glinting with each breath. "Your implications of my brothers' birth will not be so easily forgotten as the King. My Mother will hear of this, and I-"
"The same Mother who refuses to give you what her sons of equal lineage have?"
The urge to strike her was powerful, your mind a raging inferno of acrimony, anger, and a cold draft of hurt. You quickly shoved it away, focusing on the two you could feel clawing at your ribs to escape. But before you could put your emotions into words, a door opened, a short curly white-haired head peeking out.
Aegon's curious amethyst eyes flitted between you and his Mother, attempting to discern what your clenched fists and red face were about, holding a chalice in his hand. You looked back at Alicent in a mix of malice and disgust for having been so worked up that you didn't realize she had led you to her son's door. Alicent's face was schooled, her back straight and neck high, appearing the ever-regal Queen her father groomed her to be.
"Princess, come," Aegon called, his speech lightly slurred, "join me for a drink. You look like you need one."
You hid the sigh of defeat from Alicent, facing her son with a placid smile. "I do not believe it would be proper of me to join you in your chambers without a chaperone," you countered, though you desired greatly to run into his room and lose the ire of the day.
"You are family, Princess," the Queen chimed in, eager to have you distract her eldest son from drinking too heavily and inevitably embarrassing her.
You glared. She knew of Aegon's unkinship-like desire for you, yet, she was content with practically throwing you into his chambers unsupervised. Every expletive you could think of wanted to be thrown at her, but you held your tongue.
"If her Grace is all right with it," you curtsied, hatred beaming as your voice displayed the opposite. "I shall join you for a drink."
Aegon smiled joyfully, taking a swig of his chalice before opening the door wider as you entered, but not before throwing Alicent a nasty look, the Queen's face unchanging.
You stormed over to the table in the middle of Aegon's greeting room, dragging the simple wooden chair on the stone floor as it screeched. Placing your head within your palms, you huffed, relaxing your constantly tense shoulders as the tipsy Prince sat across you.
"I wasn't lying when I said you look like you need a drink," Aegon teased, furthering his jesting with a slow sip from his cup.
Dismissing him with a shake of your head, you leaned back in your seat with your legs outstretched and face pointed to the ceiling in an unladylike position. You had already drunk an entire bottle worth of alcohol today, and it was only a handful of hours after midday, and waking up the next morn with a cotton mouth and a pounding headache did not seem like a pleasant idea.
"Perhaps I shall make you come, then, for a change." In response, you tilted your head down, your chin tucking into your chest, eyes in incredulous slits. "You always take such good care of me, little one. Let me return the favor."
You couldn't deny that the idea was appealing. It had been ages since you dove into the soothing water that was pleasure, always preoccupied with Aegon, social events, and politicking. The only moments you ever felt that insatiable need the spoiled Prince seemed to have was with him, but more important things were at hand during those moments.
Your pleasure was not a priority, only his. He was the one that needed to become smitten with you. When he finally was, you would give him a choice, stay with his little Princess under the warmth of your bossom, drinking wine and eating all the sweet cakes he could stomach, or die seated on the Iron Throne as your dragon's flames melted the swords into his flesh.
"I do not need tending to, Aegon, but your offer is much appreciated," you replied, standing as you walked toward the open balcony doors.
The air was sweet, filled with the pollination of flowers and trees, the temperature mild, not too hot, nor too cold, a light-sleeved gown sufficient. Aegon quickly followed after you, resuming a mirrored position from the table on the railing, following your gaze to the southern side of Kings Landing.
He wished so ardently for you to give in to your human desires. It had been months of you living within the Red Keep, something Aegon had prayed to the Old Gods and the New since you left him. He spent countless sleepless nights buried high within his cups and deep within women's cunts to cope with his misery, going so far as to request particular whores with the same dark hair as you to bleach a strand to match yours. Nothing worked. It was never enough, never you.
Until now.
The most you had shown Aegon of the cunny he dreamed of was a glimpse on one secret night where his Mother had been particularly cruel with her words, something or other about spending time with his children. You had comforted him with a soothing ballad of kind words and lifting your skirts. Aegon came with such a force that he thought he saw the Stranger. He finally understood why they were called little deaths, for if he had spent like that every time, he would be dead by now.
Aegon perked at your sigh, watching your dress glitter in the sunlight as you crossed your arms. You looked like you belonged to him then, adorned in the same gold and opulence he loved to wear. He imagined then what life would have been like if you became his wife and not his dreamy-eyed sister.
How many children would you have now? Would he still have the twins?
Aegon chuckled at the thought, catching your curious stare as he quieted. No, most certainly not. He would never leave you a moment unswollen if you wed. You would have sired at least six children if your body and the Gods allowed it. Your breasts would weigh heavy on your back, and Aegon, the ever-doting husband, would heal you from that pain. He would fuck you until the babe's head dropped, and you could see its lanugo hair. He would stay by your side through every moment of your birthing despite the impropriety of it. Then, after that, Aegon would care for the wounds his child caused, dabbing at your tender womanhood and applying the ointments the Maester prescribed.
A thumping in Aegon's cock tore him from his fantasies, reeling him into the present. You unmarried and babeless, him a piss poor father for his current children and neglectful husband to his real wife. He brushed the thought from his mind, not wanting to fall into the home that was his self-loathing. You were right across from him, deep into your head. He could give it to you now, what he desired, and see how your little deaths would rake through your whole body.
"I can sense you staring," your voice struck like the water he fell into at Blackwater Bay this past winter, "and why you are doing so. You will not make me come, Aegon. I've no want for it."
"Is that a challenge, little one," he teased, pushing off the red stone banister and sauntering towards you.
"No," you answered, facing him with a steeled expression. "It's a command."
"Awe, but Princess, the look in your eyes says differently."
You guffawed, your brows shooting to your hairline as you tilted your head. "You must be drunk then, for you are seeing things. Come now, let's sober you up."
You signaled for him to follow as you walked back inside, only to be stopped by Aegon's deft hands. He moved you more forcefully than possible, dragging you back to your former spot and caging your legs between his.
"Aegon, be serious," you declared, attempting to move his limbs but failing. Despite his lack of training, Aegon could be relatively strong when he wanted.
"I have waited years for you to return to me. I have cried, alone at night in my chambers, praying that the Gods bring you back." You watched him with a look of surprise and sympathy, reaching your arm out to stroke his cheek, something you knew disarmed him, but he swiftly snatched it. "But they did not answer. Now, I have you, and I shall never let you leave."
Aegon's lips crashed against yours without warning, his pink tongue making its way to tangle with yours. You were frozen at the sudden foreign sensation, leaving your jaw to hang loosely open before he shoved a knee betwixt your thighs. The beads of your dress created harsh pinpricks of pleasure on your pearl, causing your mouth to open and your body to slacken, Aegon deepening the kiss instinctually. Your back arched over the stone railing, the Prince's hold being the only thing to keep you from tumbling to your death, digging your fingers into the fabric of his doublet for leverage. If you were to fall, you would ensure the unspoken heir would do so with you.
Aegon's mouth left yours, taking the chance to regain both your breaths before he dove back in, sucking and nipping at the expanse of your neck. His hands began to explore downward on your body, his nails catching on the metal orbs sewn into the fabric, treading lower, lower, and lower until he bunched the fabric of your skirt in his grip.
"Aegon." You tried to sound firm, but the word became a whimper. Squirming in his grasp to leave, you only became weak, the steady placement of his knee rubbing against that sacred area, turning your muscles to mush. "Stop."
He shushed you in response, nuzzling his nose behind your ear, inhaling the welcoming smell of lavender and dragon. "It's all right, little one. I'm here. You deserve this," he cooed, snaking his palm across your navel and down to your heat.
He felt the hair there, more plentiful than when Aegon last touched it, brushing over the coarse strands before entering a finger between your lips. You cried out at the coldness of his digits against your sensitive core, trying to heat his touch before venturing further.
"You're soaked, sweet girl," he purred into your ear, nibbling at the decorated lobe. "Why do you deny yourself so? You do so much for the kingdom, for your family," Aegon paused, parting your damp lips and sliding a slick finger over your bud as warmth shot through you, "for me." Your leg hitched at his touch, moaning loudly as his pad drew circles.
"I don't-" you wept, cutting yourself off as you felt a coil in your stomach form.
"You don't what?" he mocked, pressing firmer and causing a spark of ecstasy to bolt through you. "Don't want it? No." Aegon shook his head, answering for you. "You don't deserve it? No again. You do more in a day than my wastrel father did during his entire reign."
Aegon went faster now, his finger rubbing harder than before and making you leak onto your thighs. "Don't... talk about your father," you said breathily, your head leaning on his.
You felt the vibration of his laugh in your skull, giving you a momentary peck to your jaw in apology as his other hand dropped the skirt of your gown and wrapped it around your waist to grind into his touch. Your chest was heaving, your heart pounding, the wire inside your abdomen rapidly tightening with each refined movement.
"You deserve this. You know you deserve this," Aegon repeated, using your moistness to go faster. "I want you to say it. I want you to say it when you come," he haughtily commanded, his voice thick.
His fingers were too focused, his touch too good, and you were so, so deprived of intimacy. With a few more circles, rubs, and kisses, you felt the words tumbling off your lips, the coil wound too tight as your neglected cunt soaked his fingers with appreciation.
"I deserve this!" you shouted into the cerulean sky, Aegon's digits working you through your climax. "I deserve this, I deserve this, I deserve this," you rambled, your body having a mind of its own.
"You do, little one," he praised. "Let them hear it. Let them know your worth."
"I deserve this," you mewled one last time, nodding your head against the side of his resting on your shoulder, looking like the many cats of the Keep marking their scent. Aegon peppered you with kisses as you inhaled gulps of air. Your legs twitched, and you struggled to stand as the aftershocks subsided, held by only the Prince's strength.
It was impossible to think clearly, to fully grasp what had happened. The months, perhaps even years of negligence you spent with self-pleasure, finally coming to a rearing head, clouding your mind. The consequences of your actions failed you. Your only thoughts of how Aegon slowly dropped to his knees, pulling your skirt higher as he looked up with a mischievous yet admirable look in his violet eyes, his mouth latching onto your puffy cunt with a grin.
"One more," he murmured, his moist breath tickling, "I just need one more."
***
Aegon had lied. He did not only pry one more climax from you but three in total. Once on the terrace, back draped over the railing, your hair hanging over the ledge. The second time underneath the caring disguise of wiping away the slick from your core, only to be met with his middle and ring finger inside your tight velvet walls, and finally, the third, with a combination of his tongue and digits.
You knew you shouldn't have trusted the boy. Aegon was known throughout the Seven Kingdoms for having an appetite that no amount of whores, food, or wine could satisfy. You didn't realize it extended to another's pleasure also. Your bones were made of the Apple Muse you adored by the end, your muscles so weak from the rapid tensing and untensing as he ripped those little deaths from you.
When all was said and done, the whore of a Prince took great care of you, ensuring your throbbing cunny was clean from both your fluids, and servants brought a pitcher of water.
You were drifting asleep, an action you knew was unwise to do with Aegon around. The possibility of waking with the intrusion of his cock inside your wall was at the forefront of your mind. That fear was the only thing that kept you from drifting off when your body all but screamed for it. You took to speaking with him to distract yourself from rest, reminding him with mumbles that you promised Helaena that you would dine with her tonight. Aegon would have to play the husband's role again and see his children.
It was always difficult to return to Helaena knowing what you had done with him but not the guilt an adulteress would have. Yours was different. Shame that you were playing a game with her husband, knowingly partaking in these acts of scandal towards a goal and not for the pleasure of it. You did not know which was worse.
You were sure that Helaena would not be upset for your actions as a typical Lady Wife would, for she didn't love him like one. You supposed she would be grateful for what you were doing, keeping him away from the Silk Streets, gambling houses, and fighting pits. Ensuring there were no more bastards than there already were running around in Kings Landing. Well, that was what you convinced yourself, at least so you could look at the People's Princess without your sins written across your face.
The timber of Aegon's voice tickled your ear, snapping open your eyes that you didn't realize were closed. "I had the maids tell Helaena that we shall dine in my rooms tonight," he chuckled to himself, pecking you on the cheek with a grin, "since you are in no shape to make the journey to her's."
You nodded, unable to protest, and pushed yourself against the headboard to make yourself more alert. Aegon scooted into place beside you, resting his head on your shoulder while he played with the rings on your fingers.
You still couldn't process what happened; disappointment was the only thing you could feel. The heavy-weighing claws of it tugging on your heart and dragging it into a bottomless dark pit, constantly carrying, pulling, weighing down on you until you felt the searing pricks of tears in your eyes.
You had let yourself down and succumbed to the pleasures of the flesh that had ruined so many great men in history. You promised to focus only on Aegon and his desires, and wrongfully, you thought it would be easy. You had anticipated that the Prince was like all other men with sex, only seeking their release, and hadn't planned for him to seek yours out. By all accounts, Aegon had been just that.
This was the first moment he had wanted you to reach ecstasy during your entire stay. The most Aegon ever begged for was a glimpse of your tits and cunny, working himself in his own hands during the process. Where had the sudden urge to pleasure you emerge from?
Perhaps the plan was going better than you thought. It's only natural for a man to desire a woman's warm embrace eventually. Still, you hadn't realized it would come at the unreciprocating hands of Aegon the Drunk and only for him not to want something in return. You had long ago made peace with the fact that you would endure the tearing of your maidenhead by him and expected nothing more to bear but this... Aegon had opened something locked tightly inside of you, and your mind could not understand it, so it found the only thing it did: hatred. Not hatred towards the eldest Prince but toward yourself.
You loathed yourself for what you did, what you allowed. You would understand the reasonings behind the act if it was only once, but you had allowed Aegon to take, take, take from you, willingly, knowing your morals. It was your fault for what happened. There was no one to blame but yourself.
You searched desperately for anything to justify what happened. Did it bring the unsung heir closer to you? No. You would've had the same results if you had just let him rape you. It further helped make Aegon realize he wanted to be with you more than having riches? No. The climax after edging him ten times would make him learn that. What was the justification?
You hadn't realized your chest began to pant, alarming the Prince beside you to look over in concern. You felt sick at the sight. His perfectly chiseled marble face staring at you with his amethyst eyes twinkling with rising worry, and you rolled off the bed, stumbling. Your body shook, shoulders tensed to your ears as your fists trembled, pacing aimlessly across his room. Succinct gasps left your quivering lips, tears welling in your eyes but refusing to fall.
Aegon watched with horror as you ran back and forth across the length of his bed chambers like a caged animal. He had no idea what to do, trying to call out to get your attention but receiving no response. Your hands go to your ears, trying to block out the sounds of a near-silent room as you hiccup.
Suddenly, the ground beneath Aegon shuddered with a bone-rattling shake, quickly glancing down and then up to see the dust from his ceiling falling to the floor. An ear-bursting roar boomed through the entirety of King's Landing, causing the filled cups of his room to vibrate in their place. He felt the stone floor shake again with the moving of the dragon's footsteps, no doubt belonging to Cannibal.
Aegon ran to you swiftly at your dragon's second room, seeing the edge of orange flames and smoke rising in the sky from his opened balcony doors. He knew of the bond a rider and their mount possessed, having witnessed it with his own Sunfyre when he too was upset, but never at this length. Cannibal was wild and still barely tamed, unaware of the social norms humans had that the others of his species understood. More roars sounded, but softer this time, as if they were in the distance. Aegon ignored them, focusing on trying to pry your digits that had wound themselves into your braided hair, your scalp blanched and roots nearly showing.
He said your name first, attempting to gather your attention from where it had run off, but that didn't work. Nothing worked. No amount of cooing and soothing, as one would do to a child, made it past your deaf ears. Aegon began to narrowly mirror your panic, his eyes wide as he searched desperately to find a way to calm you down. He had never seen you in such a state, nor anyone else for the matter, and felt the sting of tears gather in his eyes.
"Please, speak to me," he beseeched, voice thick with fear. "I've no clue how to help you."
Your pacing ceased when your slippered foot caught on the misplaced leg of a stool, falling to the ground with a strangled yelp that Cannibal seemed to mimic. Aegon took this time to fall onto the floor next to you, gathering you into his arms as you flailed and booted like a lamb stolen from its Mother. Before he could think better of it, Aegon slapped his hand over your mouth, recalling how he saw a stableboy do that with a spooked colt.
You squirmed and wriggled like a wounded rabbit caught in a snare, screaming like one into his palm as your blunt nails scratched across his cheek. Aegon ignored the stinging, using every ounce of strength he accumulated from training, brawling, and fucking to hold you down, nearly escaping him twice before he laid you underneath him, arm wrapped around your stomach on the icy stone floor. He pinned you there until your struggling ceased, the rapid flaring of your nostrils coming to a halt.
When Cannibal's midnight wings flapped in the air, Aegon knew you were calm, feeling secure enough to release you with the gentle draw of his hands. He let you rest there for what felt like ages, scrutinizing every involuntary twitch of your muscles lest he have to repeat himself. The call of Arbor Red was firm in his veins, but he disregarded it, shuffling until his back hit something to rest on.
The first words out of your mouth were not what he expected, sounding so small and defeated, causing him to pause before he understood briefly. "I must fix my hair before Princess Helaena arrives. Do you have a brush?"
Aegon silently nodded before he realized you could not see him, your cheek still pressed into the floor and facing away. "Yes," he answered aloud, bumbling over to his rarely used oak vanity.
He handed the silver brush as you sat upright and took apart your maids' handy work, fixing the style into something more straightforward and placing the pearl pins accordingly. Aegon observed with caution, keeping at least ten paces from you as if you were a rabid beast. You didn't fault him for it, nor dislike it, simply too numb to feel.
"Is it all right?" You startled Aegon, him taking a moment to realize that you were speaking.
"Of course," he nodded eagerly though you couldn't see, and you hummed in assent.
"The servants should be near done setting the table. We should wait for Helaena and the children there," you stated blandly, rising from your kneeled position and smoothing your dress.
Aegon agreed noiselessly, leading you to his solar as cautiously as he could, watching for any sign that he might lose you again, but there weren't any. Ony the cold countenance of apathy that he had only seen once before when staring at the severed head of your kin. The expression haunted him to this day, guilt rising in his throat like the burning feeling of acid, taking an armchair a respectable distance away.
Masterlist of Series
Once again, I'd like to thank you for your patience during my break. I lived in my George R. R. Martin era, but don't worry; this series won't take 27+ years to finish XD. For some reason, this post won't let me upload my full taglist, so I did it as a reblog in case you wondered why it's different. According to my idea chart, we're a little under halfway through the story, but honestly, it doesn't even feel like it. There are so many things ahead. It's just mind-boggling. Like, there's one point where shit hits the fan, and it's like, "whaaaat". I want to spoil it because it's crazy, but I shall keep my lips sealed. Anyway, thank you so much for reading this chapter and continuing this journey with me!!
Also, did you like my Miss Congeniality reference hidden in there? XD
#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii#aegon the second#house of the dragon#hotd fanfic#aegon ii fanfic#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon ii x reader#tom glynn carney#aegon targaryen#aegon ii smut#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen x you#aegon x reader#aegon x you#aegon targaryen ii#aegon ii fic#aegon ii x you#aegon ii targaryen smut#aegon ii targaryen x you#aegon ii targaryen x female reader#arryk cargyll#helaena targaryen#game of thrones#hotd alicent#hotd helaena#alicent hightower#his love fanfic
153 notes
·
View notes
Note
Heya!! just wanted to say I'm totally in love with your work and with how are you rewriting their story, I'm so happy I found this.
Is just... idk how to put it but I used to like LO when I was younger and kinda binged it in a couple days, y'know? Now I'm re-reading it as I'm older and I'm like "wtf is this". Might sound silly but is kind of a heartbreak, something I used to like and now I just realize how... not good is it in reality.
So reading this makes me really, really happy. Your work is amazing and is dripping PASSION and love from it and I just love that.
Also- on another note: i read in a couple of chapters that there's a discord?? for some reason the link doesn't work, do you happen to have another one? or is the discord closed for now?
Aaaahhh thanks so much! (。・//ε//・。) I feel like every time there's a new update a new flood of people discover it and idk, it just makes me really happy to see so many of y'all enjoying it, I'm having a really great time making it and seeing all the great feedback and reception and comments just makes it even more fun <3
I can definitely share that feeling with how it feels now to go back and reread LO, it's just not the same anymore. I wasn't even that young when I picked it up (grand scheme, yes, but not compared to the folks who picked it up when they were in high school, I was well out of college by the time I started reading it, so like... early-to-mid 20's?) but I was still admittedly pretty naive at the time and rarely noticed the red flags from the start; and when I did, I just brushed them off or went "I'm sure Rachel has something planned for that" which, unfortunately, she never really did in the long run (it took until the trial arc for me to go "oh god I don't think Rachel planned this out" and that's when the rose-colored glasses started to fall off lol)
I made Rekindled for exactly that purpose, to recapture that magical feeling of reading LO for the first time, just like it was for me and many others who shared the same experience back then. It's also really gotten me out of my stubborn ass comfort zone, I've learned so many new art techniques making it and the plot that I chose to go with is one that I adore writing because it's not far from the stuff I normally write (the original foundation for the Act of Wrath plot was the biggest one I wanted to retell because so much of it resonated with me as someone who's written plotlines similar to it in the past).
We do have a Discord! Just note that I always set temporary memberships to invites so pick yourself out a role as soon as you have access otherwise you'll get kicked after a bit ;0 Hope to see you in there!! Thanks so much again for the kind words ( ´ ∀ `)ノ~ ♡
#ask me anything#ama#anon ama#anon ask me anything#anti lore olympus#lore olympus critical#lo critical#lore rekindled#lore rekindled comic#lore rekindled ama
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Darkness In Me || Story 3: Kingpin & Daredevil
-Kingpin!Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Reader-
Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist
🖤 Series Summary: You were shocked to find out your childhood friend turned out to be the Kingpin of the underworld, but you had to put those thoughts aside to bring him down. You were Hell’s Kitchen vigilante, its protector. There's no valid reason not to stop him. However, when your hidden feelings for him start to surface once more, how will you be able to even think about bringing him down?
🖤 Story Summary: Your night trying to save a kid takes a dangerous turn. Now fighting to stay alive after a possible life threatening injury, you soon find yourself face-to-face with the man that runs this city’s underworld: The Kingpin. Aka… your childhood friend.
🖤 Date: 12/06/23
🖤 Rating: Mature
🖤 Word Count: 12, 842 (Damn o-0)
🖤 Warning: Blood; Gore; Talks of Child Abuse; Child Death(s); Child Manipulation; Mental Break; Murdering and Allusion to Murder; Non Consensual Touching(?) Looks like it but its not); Seductive Talk; Implied Seductive Manipulation; Slight Karedevil; Implied Frank/Karen: Past Killing of a Love One; Talks of Betrayal; Death of a Love One; Dark!Matt; Yeah, Matt gets a fucking warning in this one (I mean, he ain't the Kingpin for nothing); Russian & Japanese Via Google Translate (not super accurate, I apologize). READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
-Let me know if I missed anything-
🖤 A/N: Oh boy, this was tough but fun to write! Hopefully nothing is too overwhelming for y'all. Alrighty then… we're finally getting to Matt's POV of things, which I honestly think I enjoyed writing more than reader's (*le gasp*). But yeah, here's a bit of the flirty and charming Matt Murdock we all know and love with a dash of darkness. Enjoy!
There’s no fucking way this was real. Was the first thing you thought. Maybe it was the next one. Or the next one, or– Oh, geez. You really didn’t know what to think.
Here you are thinking the whole time that he’s the same as you; That despite your rough childhoods, you both managed to put the nightmares aside and build the life you guys wanted. You both had your hopes and dreams, you both got the jobs you desired, you both made a friend that had your back. But now…
You don’t know when or where or how this even happened. You don’t know why he’s on this route. You don’t know why you just watched him kill a man for screwing up his ‘responsibility’. You don’t even know what to think of this situation, what to think of…
Him.
Matthew Murdock, Your childhood friend; The person you were starting to feel more for. The person that was none other than–
.
.
.
The King of Darkness himself.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
|| Four Days Ago ||
The doors slammed simultaneously, the both of you sighing as you laid back in the chair as your partner, Frank, rests his forehead against the steering wheel before lightly tapping it a few times. Your mornings had started off with a call of distress from an elderly man claiming that he had been robbed. Turns out, the poor man just had dementia. So after a talk with his son who stepped out to run an errand, they ended up back her with slight annoyance.
Frank sighs again, finally bringing his head up. “I know he has health problems, but still… you think your stuff’s gone and you call 911?”
“Yeah…” You rub your eyes, dark circles dusting them. “This is going to be a long day.”
“Of course it will be.” He starts the car, sitting up straighter. “Breakfast?”
“Please.” Like you could turn that down after not eating anything for a few hours straight.
He pulls away from the curb, driving in the direction of a local diner that he’s mentioned a few times. “So, Y/N… how are you adjusting to the move?” He said at his attempt at small talk (he didn’t speak much if he didn’t need to, you noticed, so I guess you could say this was a good sign).
“Me? I’m actually doing pretty good. I know how Hell’s Kitchen ticks so–” You shrugged. “Except for when some of the places I’ve been to have disappeared, I didn’t really need to adjust to anything.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been to Hell’s Kitchen before?”
Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Oh, shit. I guess I didn’t tell you. I was born here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I lived here till I was eight.”
“Damn. So it’s been awhile.”
“Yep.”
“What made you move away in the first place?” Frank asked, making you pale. But he didn’t seem to notice since his eyes were on the road. “Y/N?”
“Uh, well…” You frown thinking about that day. You sigh, trying not to play with your hands like you were a kid. “My parents passed. Car accident, uh– Truck ran a red light and hit up straight on.”
“Oh, my god.” He begins, and you hold your hand up.
“Before you apologize for asking, don’t. You didn’t know.”
“Yeah, but still.” He frowns worriedly. “You were… eight? That’s rough.”
“It was, but I had to accept it pretty quickly when I moved to California with my Aunt and Uncle.” You explain, feeling your heart clench at one of the names.
“Quickly?”
“My Aunt wasn’t the nicest woman.”
Frank scoffed, but not at you, but at everything else. “I got to hand it to you, Y/N, you turned out pretty well. To me, your story sounds like the makings of a villain’s origin.”
You chuckled. “So I’m not the only one to have that thought.” You reply, half joking as the car pulled into an open spot.
“I mean it though.” Frank says, turning the engine off. “You’re strong. Stronger than you think. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost my family like that.” He opens his door. “Alright. Enough depressing shit. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
You snort. “What? Did you not eat before your shift last night?”
“You think I know how to cook?” He smirks. “I leave the cooking to someone else.”
“I could see that.” You teased, following him inside.
“Well it’ll be dinner when our shifts are over. We should get burgers.”
“I wish I could. Unfortunately I got dinner plans with friends.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Oh, Y/N!” Foggy shouts as soon as he spots you, standing up and waving you over. “So glad you could make it.”
“Well thanks for the invite.” You said, with a smile, hoping the makeup you put on hid how tired you were (Seriously, why did you talk yourself into being a vigilante and a cop at the same time?).
“Y/N, this is Marci.” He said, gesturing to his lovely wife, who shakes your hand.
“Hello, Marci. It’s finally nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Marci said as you guys took a seat. “I swear, he talks about you more than Matthew does.”
“Hey, she gives me all the juicy details my dear friend leaves out. That’s all.” Foggy defends, making her roll her eyes playfully.
You chuckle. “So, speaking of the devil. Where is he?”
He frowns, almost feeling like it was somehow his fault. “Unfortunately, poor Matty can’t make it tonight.”
“No?” You copy his expression. “How come?”
“Says he’s got something important to do.” He sighs dramatically. “I swear he’s got some weird night time hobby. He’s always disappearing.”
“Sounds like something he would do.” You smirk as the joke rolls off your tongue. “You think he’s a secret mob boss or something?”
“Honestly, I was thinking more like Batman, but wouldn’t be surprised with that either.” Foggy said with a shrug, before picking up his menu. “Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.”
“Never heard that one before.” Marci said, hiding her laugh.
“Hey.”
This was nice. You finally made some acquaintances that you could now call your friends. Although this dinner would be a bit bittersweet without Matt, you couldn’t complain, you were just glad you were here, living the moment.
However…
Deep down…
.
.
.
You still wonder what he’s doing.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Punch. Punch.
.
“Is something going on with you? You know you can always talk to me.” Foggy said, clasping his friendly hand onto his shoulder with a warm smile.
.
Punch. Punch.
.
“I thought you were supposed to help me.” Wilson Fisk said as he stared in disbelief from across the table; his hands were aching to strangle his lawyer as they stayed handcuffed to the metal flat top.
“But I am helping you.” Matt replies, his calm complexion suddenly morphed into something wicked that even made the ex-mob boss shiver in his seat. “The Defense is just doing a better job than me.”
.
Punch. Crack. Punch.
.
“You’ve done a wonderful job, Matthew.” The older woman, who happened to be the leader of assaination group that took him in, Alexandra Reid, smile so proudly at him as she grasps his shoulders. “You… are the most perfect soldier I’ve seen in a long time.” She chuckles. “Go spread chaos, my love.”
.
Punch. Crack. Pain. Whine. Punch.
.
“You fight well, kid.” His old and blind mentor said, making his heart skip with pride until… “But not well enough. You disappointment.”
.
Punch. Pain. Pain. Whine. Pain. Punch.
.
“Is Mama really gone?” Matt croaked as held his father’s hand, laying in bed as his head started to go numb from the medicine. But he didn’t need sight to know what expression his dad was making.
“Yeah, Matty. She is.”
.
Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Crack. Punch. Punch.
.
“You really are leaving?” He asked, watching his best friend’s face morph into hurt and sadness.
“Yeah. I am.” You could feel yourself starting to cry. “But I don’t want to.”
He grabs your hand, holding it tight. “Then don’t. I don’t want to lose you. Don’t go.”
“Matty, I don’t have a choice. I have to go.”
.
Matt lets out a low growl as keeps pounding his fists over and over into his ‘sparring’ partner. In the boxing ring he had the man backed into one of the corners, flat on his bottom as blood sprayed everywhere; small bone fragments starting to stick out of his bruised flesh too, But he didn’t care. This was just someone he could easily replace, so he picked up the speed, turning the dial full. Striking over, and over, and over, and over again. And again. And again. And again. And–
“If you don’t stop you’ll cripple him. Or worse.” The blond Karen Page, his advisor, said as she entered the room, making him pause for a second.
“Should I care?” Matt snipped, voice sounding like acid that could melt anything it touches.
Karen’s jaw clenched, but she kept her composure. “You should care, seeing that our number of men is declining. Fast.”
Matt groans and punches the man again, surely KO-ing him this time. “I turn my head away for one second, and my men just disappear in a blink of an fucking eye. They’re all ending up on police departments’ doors so fast, It’s not even safe enough to let them go without some suspicion. Fuck!” He kicks him in the shin, getting a crack. “It’s all because of that fucking asshole in a mask! Do you have any idea where he came from?”
“No, sir. I asked around. Nobody knows. And the reports I… ‘borrowed’ shows that there’s no reports of a mutant, or superpowered individual other than Ghost-Spider in the last ten years or so.”
Matt pauses, thinking. “You think they come from out of state?”
“It’s a possibility.” Karen quickly notices his silence. “Someone comes to mind, sir?”
“No. I was over stepping.” He sighs, holding out his hand as he’s thrown a towel. “Did the delivery arrive smoothly like I asked?”
“It’s on its way. Should be there soon.”
“Good.” He throws the towel around his neck. “I need a shower, and send someone to bandage him.”
“Shall I tell the driver the penthouse or regular?”
Matt pauses again for another second. “Regular. I need to go to work tomorrow.”
“Very well then. I’ll call him now.” Karen bows his head. “Goodnight, Sir.”
“Likewise.” He says, while exiting the ring and into the locker room, still burning with rage that keeps on growing.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Stretching out in your new pajamas, you casually let yourself float around your apartment, excitement (or I guess pride) ran through your veins as you read the next article about your alter ego ‘Daredevil’. The local news lately has been flooded with nothing but articles about you. The next one made you grin, some twenty year old blogger was geeking out how fast you were in some reports and sightings.
You chuckle, lips curling in a smirk. “Damn right, I’m fast.” You didn’t have enhanced speed for nothing. Besides that, you were also cursed gifted with levitation, superhuman reflexes and stamina, and lastly, psionics; Something that you can manipulate in many different ways. It wasn’t as glorious as when your mother would do it, but you were trying.
I wonder how Uncle Pietro would have felt if he knew I had his speed. You frown, shaking your head when a gruesome memory crosses your mind.
Gosh. Why am I living so much in the past all of sudden? Why is everything flooding in quickly? You’ve been pretty good about not reliving your past over the years, but now… you can’t seem to get away from it.
I wonder why? You perk up when a knock comes from your door. You rotated slowly and gently landed on your bare feet, trekking across the room.
“Coming!” You call out, fixing your top before opening the door. You were met with a familiar sight, just like when you had moved in you saw the white vase at your feet filled with the same color and number of Roses. Looking around with caution again, you saw no one before picking it up, plucking the note off one of the stems. This time it just had a single word which was–
‘Sorry.’
You furrow your brows. “What the fuck?” Did whoever sent them know that you were down to your last rose? Did this person know that getting these was intriguing to you? Did they know that this was secretly creeping you out as well?
You scoffed out loud.
Hell…
Why the fuck were you hanging onto the roses if they were driving you crazy anyway?
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Matt does his best the next day to hide the cuts on his hands, and bruises lingering on his body. Although he’s grown used to the smell of blood staining his flesh, he knows everyone else around him is not (And being a blind man certainly didn’t help his cause). He got dressed like usual, skipping the red suit for his normal, freshly pressed, black one. He slips on his shades, grabbing his cane and briefcase by the door before stepping outside; One of his men standing there just like always. Dressed in what looked like a ‘caretaker’ outfit, he puts on the bubbly personality he was instructed to do.
“Morning, Mr. Murdock.”
“Morning, Anthony.”
“Taxi’s here like you requested.”
“Perfect.” Matt starts walking with his men a quarter step behind. Now since they’re out in public, it’s time to start speaking in code. “Still having dinner with the family later?”
“That’s the plan, but you know Brently and his boys are. They’re probably out adventuring around here, waiting to give me a scare.” His response made Matt mentally smile.
His bodyguards were in their posts like they should be. “Well, we wouldn’t want that for you.” He plays along, feeling for the door handle before pushing it open to the outside world.
“Oh, and don’t forget, you have a doctor’s appointment tonight. A follow up.”
A meeting. He almost forgot about the meeting he set up weeks prior. “Ah, almost slipped my mind.” Matt admits, opening the taxi door to get in but—
The smell is what threw him off. This scent was completely different than what he was used to.
“Where ya heading to, sir?” The driver spoke, which was another unfamiliar thing.
He frowns, hiding his worriedness. “Mr. Richards?”
“Mr. Richards’ sick. I’m taking his place today.”
And that makes Matt grow quiet, letting his other senses kick in. Other than the scent, he could hear the steady heartbeat slowly start to spike, the knuckles tightening their hold on the steering wheel, and the smell of ink lingering on the man’s neck. Now he’s realized what’s going on.
Sliding back outside, sensing his bodyguard looking at him with concern. “It’s a shame, Mr. Richards is sick.” Matt said, acting like he was scratching his neck but in reality was a signal. His bodyguard trails his eyes subtly inside, confirming what Matt thought the tattoo was.
A logo for a rebel gang in the area. A real pain in his side, always gutting for him. I guess he should have seen this coming sooner.
“It is. I hope he feels better.” His bodyguard said, still with a smile. “Will you be taking a stroll instead?”
“I will.” Matt pushes away from the vehicle, heading in the direction he needed to go. “Just make sure you take out the trash for me.”
“Of course. I’ll see you later Mr. Murdock.”
Matt listened as his bodyguard shut the back door before getting in the passenger, and took out his side arm, politely telling him to drive. He wishes he could go back and laugh in his ‘kidnapper’s’ face. He’s been in this business long enough to know who he trusts and who he can gut. Even though it can be tiring…
The monster inside him sometimes enjoys the thrill of it all.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
He sighs when the knob doesn’t turn, and starts fishing around for his keys; His pocket was like a void sometimes. He brushes off your scent and footsteps as being part of his tired mind, so it still surprised him when you suddenly appeared next to him.
“Wow, look who’s late.” You say, with a cheeky look.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked, pausing his actions (guess he should stop brushing the thought of you off).
“Thought I stopped by on my patrol of the neighbourhood. I brought bagels.” You hold the piping hot food up. “And if you’re wondering why the door’s still locked, Foggy had… lots to drink last night.”
He raises an eyebrow. “How hungover is he?”
“Well, not sure on that, but he did call me three times in the middle of the night to talk about the Yankees and how Darth Vader would be great at the sport.”
He chuckles. “Oh. So he’s that drunk.” He finally unlocks and opens the door. “I’ll make coffee.”
You smiled. “Sounds good to me.”
He started the machine and you walked around again, being nosy as usual. The office still had its characteristics about it, enough to know what side was Matt’s and what side was Foggy.
God, I’ve spent too much time around them. You spotted a stack of papers nearby, printed on it is what looks like an ad and you let your curiosity get the best of you on this one.
“You going to start standing on street corners and pass these out?” You asked, before realizing you didn’t phrase it right. “Sorry. The fliers, I mean?”
He smiles. “I thought that’s what you meant. No, Foggy thought it’d be a good idea to get the word out more.”
“Is business not good or something?” You asked, worriedly. For being in a building like this you thought they had to be doing good.
“Don’t worry, we are. But we want to branch out more. Marci’s job allows her to travel around New York City, so we’re going to have her put some up whenever she gets the chance.”
“Well that’s good.” You look back at it, admiring the work until something catches your eye. You noticed that each of the men had signed their names on the bottom right above the printed version of it, a nice warm idea to show how ‘cozy’ this place was. But that’s not what was stopping you; There was something… oddly familiar about Matt’s penmanship.
Where have I–
“Coffee’s ready.” Matt announces, coming out from the kitchenette with two cups.
You smile, subconsciously folding the paper and tucking it away. “Thanks.” You take a sip, the cheap coffee actually tasting pretty good this time around. Then, you noticed something else about him, something more troubling as you jump into action. “You’re bleeding.”
That catches him off guard. “What?”
“You’re bleeding.” You set your cup down before he could speak and roll up his sleeve. You noticed the deep gash on his forearm, not too big, just deep. You furrow your brows concernedly. “How’d you get this cut?”
Matt keeps his cool, the lie he tells rolls off his tongue with ease. “Curse of a blind man. Can’t see where I’m going.”
“Let me fix you up. Where’s the first aid kit?”
“Y/N, you don’t have to.”
“I want to. Where is it?”
“Y/N–”
“Don’t be a brat, Matty.” You slap him in the shoulder, holding back a laugh. “Where is it?”
Now he seems like he was trying to do the same thing. “Really? You’re bringing that name back?” He asked as you hum and nod. “Well… peaches, it’s under the sink.”
“Pfft.” You slap him again as you pass and mumble, “Can’t believe that name is still haunting me.” You grab the kit and examine his arm again, taking a better look. “Looks deep. I could stitch it up?”
“Nah, don’t bother. It’ll heal.” Matt says, trying to calm the nerves he could hear in your voice.
“But it’s deep. I really should.”
“Y/N, it’ll heal. Trust me. Just bandage it.”
You comply against your better judgment, and start cleaning it up first. “You got some superpower I don’t know about?” You asked, ironically.
“Hmm, maybe, I don’t know.” He grins. “Wouldn’t little peaches like to know that.”
“Oh, my god. Stop.” You blush a bit. “You’re never going to let that go.”
“What? Like I said the last time, I think it’s adorable.”
“No, it’s not.” You shake your head, all embarrassed as you start applying the bandages. “What would you think if I started calling you ‘Bratty-Matty’ again?”
He chuckles, making your heart flutter. “You already did a few times.”
“In public.”
“Oh, well—”
“See? You’ll hate it.”
“No, not necessarily.”
You pause. “Huh?”
“Well, you know, in today’s environment it’s kind of–” His free hand tugs on your badge around your neck, getting closer. “Kinky.”
“Kinky?” You said, with a flush face and slightly intrigued (completely unaware that he could hear your heart racing with excitement). “I didn’t think little… Catholic Matthew Murdock would be into those things.”
His pulse skipped a beat, feeling your hand gently brush the injured one. “Well, we were just children so… we wouldn’t talk about adult stuff now, would we?”
“Oh, certainly not.” You feel his chest press against yours as he closes the gap. “You… like to talk about that stuff?”
“Only with the people I really admire.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” His hand creeps up to the back of your neck, gently bracing you.
You couldn’t help but moan a little from it, drawing a seductive smile from him. “Matty…”
“I kind of want to share that with you.” He whispers, trying to lock his lips to yours and–
Your walkie suddenly crackles, an order coming through.
You blush. “Sorry.” You reply, trying to unclip from your belt as he steps away to give you space.
“It’s okay.” He says, listening to you ask the operator to repeat and you to take it.
You sigh. “Geez, I’m sorry, Matt. I’ve got to go.”
“No, no. It’s okay. You’re still on duty.”
“Okay. Thanks.” You start to leave, until you feel him get close to you again (and looking flustered once more).
Matt rubs the back of his neck like a nervous tick. “Hey, uh… would you like to… catch up some more? Just the two of us? Like… over dinner?”
Now it was your turn to be caught off guard. “Dinner?” You asked, making sure you heard that correctly. “Like uh… like a date?”
“I was thinking more of a play-date, maybe?” He replies with a half shrug.
“A play-date, huh?” You raise your eyebrow, grinning. “And where would this play-date partake?”
“Oh, I was thinking maybe that Sicilian place in that hotel off 5th?”
“That’s quite the restaurant. You sure?”
“My treat.”
“Alrighty then, hot shot. I’ll see you seven. I’ll wear something nice.”
“You could wear pajamas and I wouldn’t care.” He listens to you laugh a wave goodbye, standing in the doorframe of his office until he hears you no more. His expression fades away into something more serious now. “Brently.”
The office across the way, which was ‘up for lease’, opened up to one of his bodyguards who was awaiting a task. “You called, Boss?”
“Call Karen and tell her to move the meeting I have tonight to tomorrow.”
Brently’s face stays the same, but his tone shifts to concern. “Sir, would that be wise? I mean, they’ve been waiting weeks to have a word from you. You sure they won’t lash out?”
“They should know enough to not even try that. If not, handle it. Understood?”
“Understood.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Did Castle disappear again?” You asked an officer as you entered the office, noticing that he was not lounging around where his desk was.
“Probably. I haven’t seen him all morning.”
“Figures.”
Seriously, where does he run off too? You should probably ask him, I mean he trusts you enough to tell you, right? You head into the women’s locker room, heading to the row in the back. You quickly examine to see if your lock has been tampered with before putting your bag inside. It’s kind of sad you had to watch you back here, a place you should feel the safest but you don’t. You lock it back up as you hear the door being opened, sounding like two officers coming inside, chatting.
“-surprised she’s not dead yet.”
“I know, right? I’m still amazed.”
You roll your eyes at the gossip and how they sounded like they were teenagers in high school. “Oh, boy…” You whisper, and start to leave, but–
“I wonder what Lieutenant Y/N did to the Boss for him to spare her so far.”
You froze, breath caught in your throat.
Wait, what?
“I mean, how long has she been here with us? A month? Two?”
“That sounds about right.”
“I mean, she’s survived a lot longer than we expected. Remember Captain Trevor? He refused to follow the program and guess what? A day and a half later he was dead. Bullet embedded in his skull and they ruled it a suicide, but we all know what it is.”
“Yeah.” A sigh, and the next words were like a knife to your heart. “I feel bad for Castle. A hardened soldier like him still felt guilty about doing it. You could see it in his eyes.”
“Yeah. Poor Trevor too. He was young. Castle probably saw his own son in him.”
“Man, this sucks. How has the Lieutenant been living this long?”
“That’s what I’m saying. There’s got to be something to it.”
“I believe it.”
You continue to listen as they talk about something else before grabbing something out of their lockers and leaving. The whole time you had your hand cupped over your mouth, your face went pale. Frank had told you briefly about his ‘program’ kill but…
You didn’t think it would hit so deep. Now all you could think about now was–
.
.
.
Why were you still alive?
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You wore a cap sleeve red dress for your date, accompanied with black heels and a purse. You kept your makeup kind of light, and decided to style your hair long today with an exception of a clip for looks. Just as you finished putting some perfume on, you were surprised when you found Matt already at your door.
“Matty?” You said, taken back.
“The one and only.” Was his response, hold out his arm for you to take. “Ready to go?”
You knock yourself out of your trance (that of shock and how good he looked tonight) and lock the door. “Yeah, of course.” You take his arm and you both guide each other around down the apartment stairs.
“You smell good, by the way.”
You blush. “Thanks.” Then you mentally slap yourself. “I just realize you can’t see what I’m wearing.”
“I can feel.” He fingers brush the fabric. “Silk?”
“I got it years ago when my precinct was doing this charity-gala event, and haven’t worn it since. It’s red by the way.”
“Ah. I always liked that color on you. Cherry?”
“Apple.” You answered as you get to the last step when the thought from earlier comes back. “Hey, how did you know where I lived?”
“You told me one time.” Matt replies, masking his panic pretty well (God, how did he forget that?).
“I did?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh.” Maybe it was all those third shifts you’ve been doing lately. “You must have a better memory than I do, ‘cause I don’t.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The restaurant was… way more fancy than you thought it was going to be. I know Matt said he’d treat you but Jesus H. Christ this place was way above your pay grade. The materials they used and decorations you could see knew they were attached to triple digits, and when a menu doesn’t bother showing you the price for something, you knew you were out of your league.
Now I feel kind of guilty mooching off of him. You thought, knowing he was a lawyer but still. Could he really afford this?
“Here’s some glasses for the wine.” Your server said, gently placing them on the table. You quickly now noticed the the brace on his forearm and out curiosity, you asked,
“Your hand okay?”
“Oh, this? Yeah I’m fine. Lucky actually. I was getting mugged the other day.” He says, and you suddenly realize why he looked so familiar.
“That’s awful. Sorry to hear that.” Matt replies, as the waiter shrugs.
“Like I said, I was lucky. Thank god that vigilante was nearby. Saved my ass. Just wished I could have thanked him.” You couldn’t help but smile a little while Matt mumbled something incoherent as he continued tracing his fingers over the braille menu.
What’s up with him? You wondered, before tuning back into what your waiter was saying.
“-So, have we decided what we’re eating tonight?” He asked, and the two of you placed your orders before handing the menus back. “I’ll have that out for you shortly.”
“Still not sold on Daredevil?” You asked, pouring a glass of wine for the both of you.
He thanks you before answering, “Like I said, I just want the right guy to pay.”
“And you think he’s not doing a good job?”
“Well the media thinks he is. I’m not so sure myself sometimes. But I’ll admit, I admire how persistent he is.”
You pause before tilting your head, confused. “Persistent? What do you mean by that?” You took note how he looked like a deer in a headlight just as your waiter came out with the appetizers. By then the subject was changed, something less ‘intense’ and more lighthearted. And by the time your main courses came the two of you were laughing and enjoying yourself, feeling like you two were kids again.
“Oh, man. I can’t believe you guys actually did that.” You said, mixing around your carbonara with your fork. “How did you and Foggy not get expelled?”
“Good…” He chuckles. “Good question. We really should have, to be honest.”
You hum, staring at him for a minute before feeling a twinge of guilt. You wanted to ask him something that’s been bugging you for a while, and you were not sure if it was the appropriate time or not. You set your utensil down, nervously. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“It’s… kind of a debbie-downer.”
“You know I’ll answer it, Y/N.” He says, reassuring. “Shoot.”
Backing out crosses your mind, but you managed to encourage yourself to finally ask, “Why did you stop writing letters to me?” And then you saw his expression again, one that you didn’t know how to place. Why was he so surprised you were asking him certain things tonight?
You watch him set his own fork down, eternally debating with himself as he takes a deep breath.
“Listen… Y/N, I–”
The sound of something shattering caught both of your attentions, followed by hush voices before it got really loud.
“I know he’s in here! I recognized his cars outside! His people!” A man shouted, his thick accent lingering. A worker shouted at him to get back as he entered the dining hall, catching everyone’s eye now.
“What’s going on?” You said, missing the way the brunette clenches his fists (‘Cause unlike you, he knew exactly who this was).
“I know you’re in here! Тащи сюда свою задницу, ублюдок!” (*Get your ass over here, Bastard!)
“What the hell is babbling about?” You asked, recognizing it was Russian, but didn’t understand it. You watched him get pulled away by a few people, still shouting and kicking like a child throwing a fit. “What do you think that was all about?”
Matt’s hands twitched and ached in his lap, unbeknownst to you. “Um… I don’t–” But then his phone rings, this time you could see the bit of annoyance on his features as he pulls it out.
[‘Brently. Brently. Brently.’]
The automatic voice chimed over and over until he picked it up.
“Sorry. Let me take this.” He says, before you have any say. “Hello?” You watch him talk, the annoyance on his face seemed to progress that was starting to rub off on you. “Alright, then.” He hangs up with a sigh.
“Who’s Brently?” You asked, slightly irritated (and you would be more if he knew he was going to lie next).
“Uh, client. Um, he’s in some legal trouble, I, uh… gotta go bail him out.” Matt replies, scooting his chair back.
You blink in surprise. “What?”
“I’m sorry, Y/N, I gotta take responsibility for this.”
“To bail your client out?” He shakes his head, causing you more confusion. “Doesn’t he have a family? Why did you call you to bail him out?”
“Well, I’m… his lawyer, and he calls me so it falls on me.”
Now that just sounded like a load of bull to you. You frown. “So? Make him wait, or call Foggy then. We’re–”
“Foggy’s out with Marci. Don’t want to bother him.” Matt says, cutting you off.
“And we’re not… out? Together? Like him and his wife?”
“Y/N, I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, but this is important.”
Now that got your blood boiling. “And this is not?” You asked, standing up yourself and walking away with him calling out your name like a broken record.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Matt was really surprised that you let him even open the taxi door for you, but he knew you weren’t looking his way with your arms cross and head down with rage (he honestly couldn’t fucking blame you for acting like this). He then walked around and told the driver your address, and told him to drive safe which he complied.
“You Mr. Richards son?” He asked in a low tone that you couldn’t hear.
“Yes, I am.”
“Is he doing better?”
“A little banged up, but he’s alright. Should be back in a few days, Sir.”
“Good.” Then he made a face that makes anyone’s skin crawl. “You make sure nothing happens to her, or I’ll gut inside out and mail it to your dad as a ‘get well’ gift. Understood?”
The driver pales and nods before driving away. Matt then gets in a black tinted SUV, fuming in his seat as his bodyguard rolls the privacy screen down to talk.
“Page has Mr. Anatoly, Boss.”
“Where are they heading?” He asked, hands aching again as he bounces his leg to confine his anger inside.
“Usual spot. Shall I drive you over there?”
“Yes.” A grin. “Please.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Here’s a twenty.” You said, as the taxi pulled up to your apartment. “Just keep the change.”
“Uh, no need, uh… Your date paid for it.” The driver explained, waving it off.
You roll your eyes. “Of course he did.” You mumbled, getting out of the vehicle quickly as he bid you goodnight. Well…
That had to be one of the worst dates you’ve ever been on (and you’ve been on a lot). You threw your purse on the kitchen counter, kicking off your heels somewhere in the dark hall before sliding down to a sitting position against the wall. You get that he had an important client, but did he really have to take priority over him rather than spending a nice evening with you? Or better question… Why did he look like you caught off guard so many times tonight?
What are you hiding, Matt? And that was a question that was burning like candle light.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Karen was sitting in the back of another SUV listening to how Anatoly, the Russian mob member, went on and on about something (to be frank, she was only half listening).
“You were right to reach out to us, although, since we’re being truthful, a call would have been more appropriate.” Karen explains, feeling slightly sorry about what was going to happen to this man.
“Look, I… I wanted to speak with him in person. Try to put the past behind us.” The Russian said, getting a hum which was right on cue for the vehicle to stop. “Why are we stopping?”
“They say the past is etched in stone, but it isn’t. It’s… smoke trapped in a closed room, swirling, changing. Buffeted by the passing of years and wishful thinking.” Karen starts poetically saying. “But even though our perception of it changes, one thing remains constant. The past can… never be completely erased. It lingers. Like the scent of burning wood. And it’s my job as his advisor to make sure everything just… lingers.”
Anatoly gives her a strange look, which Karen ignored to answer a call.
“Sir?” She said, listening closely. “Yes, passenger side.”
“Was that him?” The Russian asked, hopeful.
“Yes. He’d like to have a word with you.”
Anatoly nods and mumbles something in his native tongue seconds before the door flies wide open. To his shock, an angry Matt Murdock reaches inside and yanks him out, throwing him viciously on the ground.
“You embarrassed me.” Matt snarls, even with his shades on you knew there was bloodlust in those blind pupils. “You fucking embarassed me infront of her!” And throws a punch.
They both exchange some hits, equally spilling some blood, however, at one point, Anatoly pulls out a knife, swinging it defensively. What thought could do some damage, he ends up seeing the Kingpin’s suit was barely touched by the blade.
Surprising him again, Matt had him pinned against the vehicle, breaking his wrist the weapon was in. “Мне бы хотелось, чтобы ты просто позвонил. Я бы дал тебе пропуск. Но нет…” He hisses, cradling the sides of the Russian’s head (*I wish you had just fucking called. I would have given you a pass. But no…). “Ты только что выкопал себе чертову могилу.” (*You just had dug your own fucking grave.)
He then starts banging his head on the side of the car a few times before tossing him back at the ground. Anatoly desperately tries to crawl to the car, begging Karen to help in Russian, but Matt’s advisor made no movements that she would at all. Instead, Matt drags Anatoly by his hair, laying him between the floor and the door…
Then slams it hard.
And over.
And over.
And over.
And over.
And over again.
As blood bathed the concrete with its glorious red color, Matt never stopped until his enemy’s head was completely taken off.
Inhaling heavily, body still tense as Karen walks over carefully, offering her Boss her handkerchief.
“Tell Mr. Potter, I’ll need a new suit.” Matt said after a moment, and wiped his face clean.
Karen nods with a hum. “What about this?” She asked, gesturing to the body behind them.
“Keep it. Freeze it. Let his brother worry for a few days, and will pull the cards if we have to.”
“Which cards, if I may ask?”
“Send it to Vladimir to show who really runs this city, or…”
.
.
.
“We blame it on Daredevil.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Alright, listen up. Last night, a father was driving home with his son until they were surrounded by unidentified men.” Your police chief said as you all were gathered around the office. You knew by how tense he was this was going to be some tough news to swallow. “Those men beat the poor dad and kidnapped the kid. Griffin Banks. Eight years old, he has curly brown hair and brown eyes; about 5 feet tall, 86 pounds, and was last seen wearing his little league uniform. Your jobs are to find him quickly and bring him home safe. Understood? – Great. Off you all go!”
And then all of you scattered like ants, hopefully to get some kind of lead, some kind of evidence of where he was but…
“This shit’s going nowhere.” Frank complained, after a few hours of tiredly searching. You couldn’t blame him for complaining about this, because you too were feeling the same way.
If only I had heard about this last night when I was on the street. I could have been looking already. You went out as Daredevil last night to clear your head after that disastrous date and didn’t come across any crime or hear anything to spark your interest. You thought that was a good thing, you thought maybe the criminals finally understood that you weren’t leaving, but now you realize that the reason was entirely different.
Did everyone in the underworld know about this kid? Was this an act of war or treason? You still weren’t a hundred percent sure how everything ran, but you did know that not everyone in the shadows worked or agreed with the Kingpin, so maybe this was a way to get back at him.
But why an innocent kid of all things?
“Let’s try around the park again.” You said, heading back for the car.
“Again? Y/N we just came from there.” Frank said, as you shake your head.
“Maybe we missed something. I want to check.”
“Y/N. Hey, wait. Y/N–” He grabs you by the shoulder to stop you from entering his car. “Wait. Look, I know you want to catch this guy, I get it, but we can’t keep going back to the same place over and over again, it’s not doing us any good.”
“Yeah, but what if we’re missing something?” You asked, forming a look of desperation in your eyes that means so much more. So much more that he actually understands it.
His face softens. “Y/N, I know that look, you’ve been through this before haven’t you?”
You bite the inside of your cheek, breaking eye contact. “I just want him to be alright. I couldn’t save the last one.” You explain, voice quivering at the end.
“Hey, I get it. We all have a similar case every once and while, and it gets to us. I understand how you feel. However, if you keep running in circles, and getting inside your head, you’re not going to be able to do much. You’re going to make the same mistakes.”
“I know, but–”
“Go take a break. Go clear your head, then come back to the precinct.”
“Frank–”
“There are a hundred or so other officers looking for this kid. You can take a rest.”
“Frank–”
“Please.”
And how could you say ‘no’ when Frank reminded you of your old partner Max here? He was making the same thoughtful, worried expression that made you want to break and asked for a hug.
You wanted to say ‘no’, to show them both that you could handle it, to show that you’ve grown but… You can’t.
You haven’t grown one bit since then.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Fancy seeing you here.”
You take your face out of your hands, looking up from your spot in the waiting area. You decided on getting a quick bite before you head back. “Foggy?”
“Thought I get some grub myself.” He said, sitting down next to you, waiting as well. “Rough morning?”
I guess he could tell how messed up you felt. “You could say that.”
“Is it because of that missing kid?”
“Yeah.” You said, as you laid your head against the wall. “Guess word got around quickly.”
“You guys will find him.” He gives you a reassuring look. “I have faith.”
You scoffed. “You have more faith than I do.”
He looks proud of himself while replying, “Hey, It’s what I do best.”
“What about you?” You cast him a glance. “Did you and Matt sort out that client issue?”
Foggy tilts his head, eyebrows scrunched together. “Issue? What issue?”
“The client issue.” You realize he didn’t know what you were talking about and continue trying to specify. “Matt and I went out last night but he cut it short; Told me he had to leave because of work. An issue with a client.”
“Issue with a client? I don’t recall a current issue with anybody.” Foggy says, honestly, as he scratches his head to think. “Are you sure that’s what he told you?”
“I’m dead serious.” You sit up straighter. “You seriously have no idea what I’m talking about?”
“No, I’m sorry, Y/N. I would know if we had an issue, I mean, we’re partners; Fifty-Fifty, you know? But if he comes into the office later I’ll ask him about it.”
You let his words sink as he excused himself to grab his food. You were… baffled. Completely fucking baffled. Did Matt really lie to you last night? And for what? He didn’t want to be there with you anymore? Did he think you were being nosy? Did he not like you in the way you thought he did? Whatever the reason was, it didn’t matter…
You were going to be pissed off anyway.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“Take the bag off.” Matt snarls as he enters the freezer. His bodyguard complied, showing their enemy off for him to ‘see’. “If you’re smart you’ll make this quick. Where’s the kid you took?”
The Russian grinned, his teeth stained red with lips full of blisters. “Like hell I’ll tell you. Not until you agree to meet with Vladimir like you promised!”
“Where’s the kid?” He tried again, patience thinning out already.
“Fuck. Off. 3асранец.” (*Asshole)
Matt hums. “So not smart? Not a shocker.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who backed out at the last minute. I don’t know what was so important last night that you just had to miss it.”
“Well, all of us have lives, you know.”
He laughs. “A leech like you? Have a life? I find that hard to believe.” Another chuckle. “We know you so well that Vladimir had us on standby to take a kid.” And another. “We know you have a little soft spot for them.”
But Matt stays calm, eerily calm that could make anyone’s skin crawl. “Just Vladimir? So did his brother not have any say in that?”
“What?”
“You know, Anatoly paid me a visit last night. He actually interrupted my important event. If your bosses had such a… grand plan, how come one of them came looking for me?”
He scoffed under his breath, mumbling, “Цифры. Анатолий всегда был нетерпеливым.” (*Figures. Anatoly was always the impatient one.)
This makes Matt grinned. “Ah, so you guys have no idea? Do you?”
“Know what?”
“Что я тоже нетерпелив.” Matt says while snapping his fingers (*That I am also impatient). The meat hooks were shifted around until it was a headless body that appeared, but that didn’t shake the Russian too much until someone pulled out the body’s severed head from a box of ice.
The man paled. “O Боже…” (*Oh God…)
“Понимаете?” Matt asked, the same expression staying (*You see?). “Мне плевать, какой у тебя статус. Ты меня злишь, я убью тебя.” (*I don’t care what status you are. You make me angry, I’ll kill you)
“You really are a monster.” He says, trying to keep it together.
“Yeah, I know. And with no regrets too. Now…” Matt’s face falls. “Where’s the kid?”
“Like I’d ever tell you after what you just did! 3асранец!” He snaps before spatting in his face. (*Asshole!)
Matt stays quiet, and calmly wipes the red spite from his face. “Otomo.” He calls out to the deepest part of the freezer, a person dressed in an all black ninja outfit. “Kare o korose.” (*Kill him). The assassin nods, unsheathing his blade which was enough to get the Russian to wiggle in his restraints and start begging.
“W-Wait! Wait! Wait! What about– No. No–”
“Dispose the body anyway you can.” Matt orders as he turns to leave the cold, until…
“Ты хочешь остановить Сорвиголову, верно?!” (*You want to stop Daredevil right?!)
As soon as those words were spoken, the Kingpin stopped in his tracks. It was only until he turned back around, the Russian started laughing with hysteria and joy.
“I know you do. We all do.” He pants and swallows. “Этот парень... он поможет любому. И я гарантирую, что он захочет спасти ребенка. Пусть все это ускользнет…” (*This guy... he’ll help anyone. And I guarantee he’ll want to save the child. Let this all slide…) He chuckles with a painful smile. “Я-я упущу это, и вместе мы сможем поймать Сорвиголову. Разве это не было бы красиво?” (*I-I let this slide, and together, we could trap Daredevil. Wouldn’t that be beautiful?)
The man prayed that this would work, and his spirits seemed to be lifted when the King of Darkness smiled.
“No one else saw you take him?” Matt asked one of the guards who shook his head. “Huh. You know…” He shifted the weight on his cane. “I like that idea. It is beautiful. Slightly risky, but beautiful.” Then he flickered his blind gaze back to his assassin. “Kare o korose.” (*Kill him)
Then he spun on his heels again and left, the door shutting behind the screams that his sensitive ears could still hear. He maneuvered around the place, listening to his adivisor’s heels click around behind him at the pace he told her to as he finds a sink to clean his soured face.
“So you’re going forward with his suggestion?” Karen asked, hands behind her back, waiting.
“It’s a little far-fetched, but if Daredevil catches wind of the kid, we actually can kill two birds with one stone.” He said, running the very idea over and over in his head. “Any updates?”
“Your phone’s been blowing up. The personal one.”
“Calls?”
“Texts mostly.”
“Who’s it from?” He asked her, as she pulled it out of her pocket and reread it over.
“Foggy.” She replies, watching him stop drying his face.
“Is it important?”
“Might be.”
“Might be?”
“He wants to know what client issue you had last night, and says you should contact Y/N.” She frowns. “Apparently she’s pissed at you for leaving last night.” He mutters something under his breath that she didn’t hear before she decided to take a step forward. “Forgive me if I’m stepping over a line, and I know she’s a long time friend, but she’s also a cop; A cop that hasn’t been linked with your program yet, and has been begging for you to tell her yourself, which I know you won’t.”
“Your point is, Karen? Matt asked, throwing the towel aside.
“What if this works out like you hope, and you reveal to her that you’re the Kingpin, then what? You expect her to be okay with it? Expect her to accept it without a little blackmail on the line?”
A brief pause. “No.”
“Exactly. She’ll try to take your ass to court, better yet she’ll try to shoot you dead. I just don’t want a repeat of last time.”
And the haunting memory flashed before him. He didn’t think it could still hurt so much. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll figure that out later. But what about you? How’s your task going?”
“Still growing strong like you asked.” Karen said as he cups her jaw with a smile. “He trusts me a lot.”
“Good. Good. I’m glad to hear that.” He says, while slowly tracing her red lips with his thumb. “Even if, and that’s a big if, Castle ever thinks that he’s out of my control, he’s not, not if you’re on him like a thorn in his side. Right?”
“Right.”
He hums, and lightly ghosts her arm with his fingertips drawing a small sound from her. “Bet you’re imagining me as him. Hmm?” He pulls her head down closer, his lips right next to her ear. “Keep seducing Castle for me, okay? I don’t care if you catch any feelings either, as long as you know he’ll still be between my fingertips, then I’ll let that slide. Understood?”
She makes a sound again, eyes half lid. “Understood.”
“Good.” Then he gently bites the side of her lower lip, kitty licking the bruise before pulling away. “Tell the driver to bring the car around while I make a call.”
With a shaky breath she says, “Yes, sir.”
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The voicemail still buzzed in the back of your head as you came bursting through your window, barely having the mental strength to lock as you started shedding your DD suit as you walked towards your bathroom.
*Beep*
[ ‘Hey, Y/N. Look, I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but please just… Can you just call me back and just listen to what I have to say? Please? I just… I know I messed up. I’m sorry. Please call me back when you get the chance.’ ]
*Beep*
You kicked off the last pair of clothing as you crawled into the shower turning the hot water on, letting it run on your hunched over back with your forehead against the tiles.
These few days have sucked. First your date leaves you high and dry, then you find out he lied, and now you can’t even find a missing kid whether your Daredevil or Detective L/N. It…
It really hurts.
This task… hits… close to home.
You hold back the tears you felt, and hold back the urge to sob as you let your fingers trace the scar on the base of your neck, remembering how it got there.
.
It was stupid mistake.
You should have waited for your partner instead of running off on your own.
You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot. You should have waited. You should have waited. You–
You honestly thought the universe would grant you this. To grant you a chance to catch the man you’ve been hunting for weeks; To catch the man that’s been stealing those kids and doing heinous things with them. You needed to catch him, you begged to catch him but…
No.
No you can’t.
As soon as you spotted him you ran like hell after him, ignoring as your partner Max yelled your name. You had blinders on, you’ll admit, but you don’t want that man to take another kid, to steal yet another kid’s future. No.
Not on your fucking watch. However–
He catches you by surprise, and suddenly your whole world is on its side as you free fall, hitting something sharp and painful on the way down. Now you’re laying on the ground, your spine feeling funny as you feel the pool of blood grow around your head, your ears ringing like they’re dying out.
Damn it. You thought. You really thought you had this one in the bag as you started to fade to black just as your partner’s voice broke out into a scream. A scream that you know was–
.
“Fuck!” You yelled, and swiped off all the bottles off the shelf and let it rattled to the tub floor (you know you probably just woke up your downstairs neighbour but you couldn’t care less). You sigh heavily, holding the sides of your head.
.
.
.
Tonight was going to be a long night for you.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Frank’s fingers glided over his phone for the millionth time this morning. You haven’t arrived at all this morning which was so not like you (Especially since you were so desperate to solve this case). He waited a few minutes before texting again:
[ Forget what precinct you work at or something? Where are you? ]
He just wants something from you, even if you respond with an emoji that he’ll have to decipher.
Come on, Y/N. At least tell me you’re staying home. One of his fears right now was you doing something drastic. After his conversation with you yesterday he decided to look up what was scaring you, and that was the case you took just a few years out of the academy, the same year you became a detective. A criminal that had been taunting you and your partner for months, and when you finally had him, the night ended with you getting a near death injury… and another kid getting killed.
Poor girl. I just wish you didn’t have to get demoted here. You’re too good for this place. His thoughts were interrupted when his phone finally dinged with a message from you.
[ Detective Stubborn: Ate something bad last night. Stomach’s killing me. ]
He sighs with relief, whether that was true or not, he’s just glad to know you’re away from here.
[ Feel better. ]
He just really, really hopes you stay home and clear your mind.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
But of course… why would you?
After planning all day and looking over very little evidence you had you decided to go out as soon as the sun started to set. You had to rough up a couple of street thugs to get some more solid evidence, but eventually it was enough for you to figure out where they took the boy.
The warehouse district.
You floated through one of the skyline landing without a sound, and the rest of your mission honestly became a bit of a blur. Why? Well… as you rushed around through each warehouse undetected until you actually found the kid, your enemies, when they finally noticed you, didn’t seem very fond of you poking your nose in their business. Now you’re running like hell, a kid in your arms as you tried shielding him from every bullet that came your way. You tried levitating a few times when you found yourself up high and trying to cross a beam or a walkway, but you’ve never actually flown with someone in your arms so you’re out of practice.
Come on, Y/N. Remember bootcamp, Remember your first rescue mission, you know how to carry someone to safety. Which was true, but all those other times weren’t with you being pelted with bullets from an angry mob.
You felt the kid grip your outfit tighter making you say, “It’s okay. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” You just kept repeating that comfortingly as you made three small crates float and fly to knock the men out of your path. You kicked one of the guys in the head when he tried to get up, sprinting again. If you can just get to the edge of the building, you’ll be home free.
Trekking across a catwalk, you used your abilities to conjure up a quick shield to block before surging the power outwards, knocking the gunmen off his feet and over the railing, plummeting into the overly packed room of wooden crates from overseas (you’re not sure if you really wanted to know what the Russian mafia was importing). You fought a few more guys that dared to intervene, dared you to stop and surrender and be killed.
You could see the finish line, you could feel the boy relaxing your arms as he sees it too; You were finally going to complete the mission that’s been haunting you for so–
You heard something rattle and roll behind you.
You just had enough time to look at what it was before putting a shield up, the tiny thing exploding your whole world.
.
.
.
.
When you came back around, an excruciating pain ran through your body, a pain that was so unbearable that you didn’t want to move. The explosive you managed to shield took out the catwalk you were on and everything close by. You fell all the way down with debris dusting your face, still holding onto the kid before blacking out. Now… you laid on the floor, your head shaking as you urged yourself to look down, finding what was causing the pain.
A metal bar was sticking out from your abdomen.
You somehow didn’t scream, maybe because you felt like you were going into shock, or maybe you were shouting and haven’t noticed yet.
Oh, god, I’ve– wait… the boy… Trying not to black out when you turn your head to look, and about a foot away was the boy who had bounced off your body during the fall. Your heart would have caught in your throat if he didn’t see his chest moving, but it was.
He’s alive. You sighed with relief, but here comes the tricky part. How are you going to move and save him with this pole in your stomach? You groaned loudly as you tried to move, arm reaching out in the attempt to at least shake him awake, trying to tell him to run if you’re truly stuck.
“Uh, Gr-Griffin… g-get up. W-Wake… up. Please…” You croaked, yet it doesn’t seem like the sleeping boy can hear you… but someone else could.
But as you shifted again, pain shooting out as the metal shifted with you, that’s when you noticed someone coming over in the corner of your eye. One of the Russians had come over, checking if you were still alive which was plain as day now. You watch his eyes go between you and the child for a few seconds before grinning like a maniac.
Your eyes widened when you saw the gun in his hands. “No.” You whimpered with your fingertips glowing red, right as he shot a bullet into the kid’s head. “No!!!” You couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed. Would this have happened if it didn’t–
Then he pointed the weapon at you, out instinct or adrenaline your abilities shifted the gun towards him, firing his own bullet into his own skull.
His body dropped like it was made of bricks, the gun sliding inches away from him, causing you to nearly throw up in your mouth. I mean, you were a cop after all, so of course you’ve had to shoot a person or two but this was…
Messing with your fucking head.
You could hear shouting in the distance, which was enough for you to kick it high gear again and try to move. First things first was trying to get this damn bar out of your stomach.
How the fuck– wait– let’s see– You concertrated the best you could as you redirected all the energy you had into yanking it out (doing it quickly probably was the best idea but you didn’t have much time). The bar rattled next to you, a pool of red oozing out as you rolled to your side feeling the blood rise to your throat. You quickly moved to all four, pulling your mask down to cough up the rest of the red. Sweating and heaving, you felt like you had no energy left to move, but you needed to. You could hear them coming.
As you got up to your feet, your knees nearly buckled but yourself forward where you noticed some stairs going up. Ripping and pushing your hood against your wound as you started to climb, hoping you weren’t leaving too much of a blood trail.
Just as you got to the top you heard the voice grow near, and you managed to slide yourself into a place that no one could see from below. You just needed to stay hidden long enough for them to leave to make your escape (whenever that was). However, you never thought after searching for a few months that you would actually get to see the man they call ‘Kingpin’.
You peaked out watching two very different groups of people arrive. The Russians looked slightly surprised when the Underworld’s Ruler showed up, dressed in the red suit that you’ve heard about on the street. He walked like he owned the place, his black cane with gold trim was like the piece that tied his whole look together. He stopped with his back towards you, with many of his men standing around as, what you tell was, the Russian mob’s leader came face-to-face with Kingpin.
“3асранец. Now you show your face.” The leader, Vladimir snaps (*Asshole).
“Well, seeing how this is my turf now, I have to show my face.” Kingpin said, making you perk up with confusion.
Why does his voice sound–? But your thought trails off as you watch Vladimir scoffing in disbelief.
“Your turf? You think we just… ‘mess up’ and you take over?”
“Well, I certainly don’t need to see that–” Matt points to the mess the explosion made. “You pretty much destroyed most of your cargo.”
Vladimir frowns, shifting his weight. “I’ll admit, I wish my men didn’t blow up half the warehouse. But I will give him a pass because he was trying to stop our rat.”
He raises an eyebrow. “A rat?”
“Yeah, a rat.” Vladimir smiles a little. “I had a feeling Daredevil would come for the kid. Why wouldn’t you if it makes you feel good?”
Matt clenches the top of his cane, keeping his composure from the neck up. “Daredevil was here?”
“Still here, I think.” The Russian points to the bloody puddle on the floor. “There’s a pipe laying next to a large amount of blood. In my experience, getting impaled you don’t get very far.”
His frown deepens, grip tightening. “And the kid? I smell two bodies with no heartbeats.” Then his whole aura changed into something darker, suffocating. “Tell me, are those your men?”
Vladimir paled, and tried to keep the discomfort off his face. He didn’t want to answer, even he knew staying silent wouldn’t be a good idea. “One of them.”
“One of them?”
“Why do you care? It could have been Daredevil! She could have pulled the trigger!”
Matt didn’t say anything as he cast his blind gaze at the corpses before saying, “No. His scent is the only one on the gun and its bullets. So the kid’s death is in your hands.” But then he pauses, realizing something. “Wait. She?”
“Yes. My men said they saw Daredevil upclose, says the stature’s too small and not burly enough to be a man.” Vladimir replies, making Matt hum in response. “I guess something good did come out of this after all. We finally have more evidence of what we’re up against.”
And those words were his signature for his own death.
The room got really cold, and energy felt suffocating. Everyone present began praying that they’ll be spared.
Matt grits his teeth, shaded eyes growing hungrier. “First you embarrassed me, now you insult me? I’m not even sure what to say anymore.” He says, snapping his fingers as his bodyguards shoved Vladimir to his knees, the end of a barrel being pressed in his face. The other Russians tried to make an advance, but they were outnumbered, making them slowly raise their hands over their heads.
“Давай, мужик.” Vladimir said, as Matt made a tsking news (*Come on, Man).
“Don’t ‘come on, man’ me. You brought this upon yourself. I mean–” Matt chuckled dryly, lowly, scary. “All you and your brother had to do was just wait the next day for our meeting. But no, you had to go out and throw a tantrum, you had to go out and kidnap a kid that has no meaning to any of us.”
Vladimir scoffs. “No meaning? It always has some meaning to you. Don’t act like you haven’t kidnapped someone’s kid before.”
“And I’m not. I know what I’ve done. But unlike you, when I kidnap someone there’s meaning to it, a purpose. Like when I… ‘picked up’ our DA’s lovely daughter after soccer practice, and said we were good friends. And like any child, she believed it.” Matt smiled just a little before it faded in an instant. “However… she never ended up like that.” He gestures to the body on the floor. “You get what I mean?”
The Russian growls. “3асранец.” (*Asshole)
“You can keep calling me an asshole all you want, but you know I’m right.” Matt sighs. “I just wish your brother was like you.”
Vladimir’s breath caught in his throat. “What did you do?”
“Nothing that your brother didn’t deserve. He did interrupt a very important date I really care about. I’m honestly surprised he found the restaurant I was in.”
Brother? Interrupted? Restaurant? You thought, wondering why this sounds so familiar.
“What. Did. You. Do?!” Vladimir shouted, baring his teeth as the King of Darkness lips curled into a mischievous grin.
“Like I said, nothing he didn’t deserve.” Matt snaps his fingers again, this time summoning someone over who was holding up a duffle bag. He reaches inside and pulls the brother’s head out by his hair (You had to hold back from gasping loudly at the sight).
Vladimir nearly broke down on the spot. “Anatoly…”
“I really wished he had just called, I wouldn’t have resorted to such manners.” Another sigh. “I even had to lie to my date that I had to go bail him out.”
And that’s when your whole world collapsed.
No. You thought, shaking your head as everything started to click in place.
No. No. This has to be fake. I have to be sleeping. This can’t– But you can’t deny what was plain as day. You didn’t have to see his face to know it was him. I mean, he had a cane you thought was just for fashion, he had shades on that you thought was just part of his look, but you can’t deny that his voice is the same, you can’t deny that the missing pieces had formed a whole.
But then his name rolled off your lips as you stared with disbelief.
“Matt…” You whispered, and as soon as you did, his head snapped your way.
Tensing up and pushing yourself further into the shadows, you slapped your hand over your mouth as your heart pounded in your ears.
There’s no way he heard me… right? However, that couldn’t be a coincidence. There’s no way you just mutter his name and then look your way. It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be true. But does that mean–
Can Matt… hear anything? Does he have abilities like me? You didn’t know what to think as he went back to his conversation with the Russian mob leader.
His perplexed expression changed back to the grin as he continued to taunt the man before him. “Now do you understand why people don’t cross me?”
“You’re a monster.” Vladimir replies, voice filled with venom. “You’re a fucking monster.”
“I know.”
“You won’t get away with this. When people hear about what you’ve done, there’s no way the others are going to let this go.” The Russian clenched his fists. “My people, even if I’m gone, they’re not going to put up with this. Same with the Doctors, S.I.L.K., the Chinese, the Japanese–”
“The Japanese?” Matt said with a laugh. “Oh, they work for me.” And he almost laughed again when he saw his prey’s face pale again in shock. “Yeah. You see, they raised me. The Hand taught me everything I know, and helped me rise to this position.”
What does he mean he was raised by the Japanese? You managed to think after slowly coming over your shock. You knew his mother died in the accident that blinded him, and he mentioned his dad pasted as well, and–
Wait…
Matt never told me when his father died. Does that mean he was young enough to be taken in by someone? Someone like… You couldn’t even finish the sentence. You’ve heard bits and pieces about The Hand on the street. You knew they were hardcore, highly skilled and basically an assassination group; People you didn’t want to mess with.
So does that make Matt… an assassin?
“You really have power in everything.” Vladimir said, head hanging low.
“Pretty much.” Matt said, proudly.
“Then I guess… I’ve got nothing else to do than follow you.”
“Follow me?” The blind man scoffed. “Oh, Vladimir, you lost your chance at that. You’ve already proven to me that you have no loyalty, that you only think about yourself.”
“Mr. Murdock–”
Matt cut him off by holding his hand up, and staying quiet for just a moment. “I really wanted to like you Vladimir, that hard head of yours I could have used for so many things but…” He sighs and stays silent again.
.
.
.
And then you watch him plunge his sword into the side of Vladimir’s head.
Your pupils shrunk and you felt all the air get sucked out of you. You–
Matt slowly pulls his weapon out, letting his bodyguards drop the body to the floor. He just stares again, almost like he was basking in what he just did.
Oh, my god… he just… Then you watched him sheath the blade back into his cane and says,
“Kill the rest.”
And that’s when you knew you had to move. Using all the strength you had left to bolt away as Matt’s men started firing at whoever was left of the Russian mob.
You’re not sure how you’re even going to get home, but fuck…
.
.
.
There’s no way in hell you’re going to stick around here.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You practically crawled to the bathroom when you got back to the apartment, black spots started dancing as you ripped open the first aid kit. You shake off your top, turning the shower on for a few seconds to remove the excess blood.
.
“Matty… would you still be friends with me if I was a freak?” You asked him as the two of you sat on the fire escape of his apartment. The question has been gnawing at you for quite some time, and you weren’t sure how to express it so.
“A freak?” Matt said, confused. “Why would you ask me that?”
.
The pole didn’t go all the way through, which was good, but damn… that was going to leave a nasty scar when it did heal. You had to bite on a rolled up magazine as you started sewing up the wound, the pain keeping you awake.
.
“Well…” You nervously shifted your weight, looking in his direction. “What if I told you… that my parents are special?”
“Special? In what way?
.
You placed the gauze over the wound, then bandaging it up. You then cursed as you pushed yourself to a stand, running your blood soaked hands under the water, watching it swirl down the drain.
.
“Like… what if they had abilities? Like superheroes?”
“Like superheroes?” Matt perked up a little. “Do they?”
“It’s just a question.” You shrug and look away. “Would you be okay if I was a freak too?”
.
Your eyes shifted from the bathroom to your kitchen, remembering something. You flicked off the faucet, wobbly walking towards the very thing that’s been peaking your curiosity for the longest time.
The vase of roses.
With a shaky hand you grabbed the note, opening up to reread the one sentence on the paper.
.
“I wouldn’t mind.” Matt said, with a smile. “I’d think it’d be cool.”
You blink in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah. You would be like an actual superhero. Like the ones you see in the comic books. I’ll admit though, I’d be kind of jealous if you did.”
“How come?”
.
Now you were back in your room, rummaging around for the outfit you wore to work the other day. You know you still have it, you have to. You needed the chance to compare the two.
.
“Because–” Now it was his turn to shift in his seat. “My best friend has powers and I don’t. Everyone would be in awe with you but with me? Nothing.”
You frown at his words. “Don’t say that. I think it would be nice to have someone different than me.” Then smiles. “Keeps me from not going completely crazy.”
He chuckles. “Well it would be my job to keep you from going nuts. I wouldn’t want you to be the villain of the story.”
You smirk a little at that, scooting closer. “Is that a promise?”
.
Your (Y/E/C) eyes widened with disbelief for the millionth time tonight. In one hand you had the note from the vase, the other? It was the ad from Nelson and Murdock, the ones they were going to pass out, spread the word.
The one that had their penmanship on the very bottom.
A perfect–
Perfect–
Match.
.
You held out your pinky. “Promise me. Promise me that as long as we’re together, we won’t become villains in this world. Will always be each other’s light.”
He stays quiet for a second, like he’s thinking. Then he raises an eyebrow, saying, “Superpowered or not?”
“Superpowered or not.”
“Okay. Deal.” He interlocks his pinky with yours. “I promise I won’t do anything crazy while you’re here.”
“Thank you, Matty. I’ll hold you to it.”
.
You snagged everything that was off the counter, marching over to the window, ripping it open. Without even looking you just tossed it out, letting it drop and shattered on the dumpster lid below.
You just couldn’t believe it as you sank to your knees.
You just couldn’t believe it.
You just couldn’t believe it.
You just couldn’t believe it.
You just…
.
.
.
.
Couldn’t believe your whole life was in a lie.
(TBC)
-Taglist Is Open-
@utterlynuts @etanordoesbullsh1t @mattmurdocksstarlight @l3xiluve @lunaticgurly @margoo0 @swift-enchanted @athenniene
@up-in-space-reading @itwasthereaminuteago @lazyxsquirrel @yeonalie @scoliobean @kayden666
@nkmblackhyuuga @nk1023 @queenofnigthdarkness
#skyfallwrites#my fanfic writing#marvel fanfiction#mcu daredevil#daredevil#kingpin#kingpin matt murdock#matt murderdock#dark matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x vigilante reader#matt murdock smut#matt murdock x female reader#dark fic#marvel smut#mike murdock#earth 65#spider-gwen comics#maximoff reader#matt murdock x maximoff reader#enhanced reader#Matt Murdock x enhanced reader
67 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heathers thoughts none of you asked for :)
Ok y'all so I've been on a plane so obviously I downloaded heathers and I thought "you know what? Lemme write down my thoughts, because I'm pretty crazy about this musical." So I did. These are the aforementioned thoughts. Enjoy if you choose to :)
Content warning: spoilers lol
Trigger warnings: murder, sex, suicide, sexual assault/violence, depression, anxiety are all mentioned. Also there is a lot of cursing because a lot of the songs cuss lol (if you've already seen it then there's nothing else apart from what's already in there)
It's about 3000 words long, and probably quite funny to read even if you don't know what's going on
Um yeah that's it, let's go!
My thoughts on Heathers
ACT ONEEEEE
- "September 1st 1989, dearrrrr diary"
- (ok imma nerd out on the first line because September 1st 1989 could be a reference to September 1st 1939, but that's it I promise)
- welcome to my school, this ain't no high school this is the *thunderdome*
- "if I'm not dead by Juneeee" yeah about that-
- "then I can blow this town," um Veronica that's jds job
- "fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze" girl if you knew what would happen next....
- RAMS EXPRESSION HELP
- Life really isn't looking beautiful Veronica
- "smartest guy on the football team :0"
- "did you really just talk to me?" "My buddy Kurt just asked you a question" *nod/grunt/chest pop thing*
- (they are soooooo not straight)
- "dear diary: whyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?"
- BRO I THOUGHT THEY SAID "COLD BEEER" NOT "HOPE HERE" 😭
- Heathers' entrance giving vogue tbh
- "no discernable personality but her mom did pay for implants,"
- "id like them to be nicer," Martha ur so real for that
- so everyone is just going to ignore that line about kidnapping them? Ok...
- why does miss Fleming act so dismissive of one of her students having an eating disorder? Like ummmm safe guarding?
- chandler not even knowing Veronica existed till she saved her ass lmao
- FIRST SHUT UP HEATHER OF THE SHOW AYYY
- "if I took a meat cleaver down the *centre* of your *skull* I'd have matching halves.... That's very important :]"
- "ask me how it feels, looking like hellll on wheelsss... My GOD it's beautiful"
- THE RIFFS OH MY DAYS
- ok first song done :]
- "more like the heathers are my co-workers and our job is being popular and shit,"
- "but it's still the same me underneath!" "You sure? 🤨"
- "how very" !!!!!!!!!!!!!
- "heather. Bend over."
- "...are we gonna have a problem?"
- "LISTEN UP BIATCH"
- honestly playing dolls sounds more fun than smoking with some quarterback to me but like wtv
- "say goodbye to shamu"
- LET'S GO TEAR UO SOMEONES LAWN
- step into my candy storeeeëëëEEEEE
- honey what you waiting for... "SHUT UP HEATHER!"
- "don't just quote bodelare at me and walk away?"
- "I didn't catch your name..." "I didn't throw it 😎🔥" jd thought he ate
- "my buddy Kurt just asked you a question" "*huh*"
- "I'm not sure what your problem is, but I bet it's pretty hard for you to pronounce." Ok jd ACTUALLY ate this time
- holy shit (holy shit) holy SHIT (HOLY shit) HOLY SHIT **Holy Shit** HOLY shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit
- "why, when you see Boys fight, does it look so horrible, yet feel so riìïíîīïìight,"
- "DAAAAAAMN"
- girlypop is infatuated
- her posing with him while he's frozen is pretty iconic tbh
- "if your still alive," she knows the chances
- (also death reference (?!?!?!?))
- the ball popping scene 😭
- "come on admit it you like the new kid," says you heather? We alllll know that you like someone who's name starts with v
- duke looks so scared :'(
- "they will get me safely through highschool," ehhhhhh
- "I'm not gonna change, I promise," ehhhhh
- it's my candy store it's my candy
- it's my candy store it's my candy
- it's my candy store it's my candy storeeeeeEEEEEE
- (also the choreography is eating)
- "VERONICAAAAAAAAAAA 🦅 DON'T FORGET GET TO BUY CORN NUTSSSS"
- "plain or bq?" "BBBBBBBBBQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ 🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅"
- "greetings and salutations" fhhfsjsfdj
- "did you say cherry or lemon?" "I said big gulp,"
- "IF IT'S IN THE WAY, I'LL MAKE YOUR DAY"
- "example: I don't really like my friends." "That's ok, I don't like your friends either ☺️"
- ayyy liquorice is good for voices, I see you set team
- Veronica just watching him sing (she's still infatuated)
- "I pray at my alter of slush" that sounds like an unhealthy relationship with a drink bro
- "shfhjsgskdfsgsdg" - JD sucking up his slushie
- "freeze your brainnnnn"
- riffing so early in the song are we? Slay
- "does ur mommy know you drink all that crap?" "Not anymore. When mom was alive -"
- (Veronica's face kills me every time)
- "the sky's gonna hurt when it falls so you better start building some walls"
- JD casually traumadumping on some random girl at the seven eleven
- "I don't see what the big deal- SON OF A BITCH"
- chandler being jealous because of JD is peak
- freeze your brain is underrated though
- "sure thing.... DUDE"
- the middle fingers at their son's 😭
- DAD SAYS ACT YOUR AGE YOU HEARD THE MAN IT'S TIME TO RAGE
- everyone in this musical is so fine
- I'm learning this choreography as soon as I get time
- adding to the character profile that McNamara's mom is a slight alcoholic
- "a hot guy smiled at me without a trace of mockery!" Ronica is really doing well though, this is like goals, like bro I'm still waiting on this for me
- why's miss Fleming a teenager all of a sudden?
- she's got moves those
- "how did I get this popular?" Because the demon queen of highschool has a hugeeee crush on you
- "dreams are coming true when people laugh but not at you," Veronica is so me (I'm still waiting for this but oh well)
- ✊✊🙌✊✊🙌✊✊🙌✊✊🙌
- "I'm not alone I'm not afraid I FEEL LIKE BONO AT LIVE AIDDDDD"
- "I'm actually having big fun!"
- that poor pinata 😔
- dang dang diggity dangy dang
- even I know that sparkling ciders a "no thanks" at a party, Martha
- "there's no alcohol in this, are you TRYING to POISON me?" Yeah about poison...
- "our folks got no clue bout half the shit there children do!" Me when Tumblr-
- "pin-yah-tah!" (That's how I say it too)
- ok the bullying Martha at the party is pretty realistic
- "what's your damage heather?"
- "nobody at westerberg is going to let you play their reindeer games!"
- Lick. It. Up.
- no way to treat the love of your life, chandler
- but I don't own a motorbike -
- *wait...*
- here's an option that I like
- spend these last few hours getting ✨ freaky ✨
- "Veronica, what are you doing in my roo-" "shhhshshshhhhssshshshhh"
- him going to kiss her and she's just like 🖐️ onto his face
- he honestly looks a little scared
- "so worlds unfair, keep it locked out there" ummm you snapped off his window lock remember?
- "that works for me,"
- not her hitting notes after making out which I'd struggle to hit with a warmup ✋😭
- the confidence it takes to perform that song on stage-
- tbh if I had that nightmare I'd be terrified too
- "I gotta go kiss her arobasized ass"
- Veronica's so silly I love her
- I kinda want chandlers pjs
- "hope you brought kneepads, bitch"
- "that stuff would kill her!" "Thus ending her hangover,"
- not JD calling her chicken for not wanting to kill 💀
- ooooo bro didn't tell her
- heathers soooo jealous of JD
- "I'd actually prefer you did this [begged] on your knees," like um that's a bit... You know...
- "but your still dead to me" funny choice of words chandler
- THE FACT SHE DIED RIGHT AFTER
- "c-c-corn n-n-nuts XP"
- "my problems were a miriad..." "I was having my period. HAHAHAHAha.... OH MY GOD"
- (fun fact I drew that line)
- "I learned to...kiss boys with my tongue" "that's good"
- Veronicas face when heather starts singing
- "Ur making me sound like air supply 🙄"
- no but heather doing the little movements as she sings like it's a tiktok dance
- "my 🤘🤘 rockstar mystique they wouldn't dare look in 🫱😔🫲 my eyessss"
- "MYRIAD, NICE"
- "starving children eating sand"
- "no one thinks a pretty girl can touch youuuuu" "heather touching me 😏" WHAT THE HECK NOT THE TIME BOYS REALLY NOT THE TIME
- "IM BIGGER THAN JOHN LENNON"
- chandler doing the little boogie because people actually like her now she's dead
- duke getting her photo bomb moment
- "do you think heathers mom keeps her room the same, like she's alive?" "....well that rugs gonna need a good cleaning "
- DID JD'S DAD JUST THREATEN VERONICA WTH
- "my mom's cooking dinner....spaghetti.... With *lots* of oregano" iconic
- "Jd's dad will not be speaking at our wedding,"
- "nobody *cares* about your feelings" DUKE TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW
- "from her homies 😔✊✌️" I love you heather McNamara
- ummmm McNamara, I love you but that isn't ok
- i m a r a t i n a t r a p c o r r e c t i o n i m t h e c h e e s e
- bro this song makes me very uncomfortable but it's really catchy
- why are they licking her hand 😭
- "cow manure " serves you right bastards
- "is that a joke?" "It is most definitely a joke " it was not a joke
- "I HAVE A NEW FAVOURITE COLOUR"
- "MOVE BITCH THIS IS MY SONG"
- the transformation is smooooooth
- chandler sticking her tongue out has me dying she's such a good character
- "PARTIES AT MY PLACE" WHOO HOO
- KURT AND RAM WHEN I GET YOU
- tf are they slutshaming her for something that didn't happen, bitches
-"allhailthequeeniweartheredthescrunchiesonmyheadyoucantrunyoucanthideiamacrimsontide"
- Also dukes voice is so pretty like girl sounds angelic
- WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM SHE'S LITERALLY SOBBING AND THEY MADE IT WORSE
- if I was in that sort of situation I would be sobbing so hard
- "our love is god"
- "your not alone" "your not alone" SOBBING.
- they're so cute yet so messed up
- why are the boys so gullible though like don't they remember literally earlier that day?
- unrelated but I would kill for a voice like any of these people (pun intended)
- then singing "our love is god" at different times because it means different things to each of them
- JD just acting all smart as he lies
- the gay look im dead
- "so do we just whip it out?" Bruh
- "I liked the tie..." "get the tie, get the tie," "my mom bought it for me 😏🫦"
- the matching underwear lmao
- "ur just unconscious, right ram?" WRONG
- "STOP BEING A DICK"
- "what the FUCK have you done?!" "I worship you ☺️🥺"
- Veronica home girl you sound terrified why are you still letting him hug you
ACT TWOOOOOOOO
- "Im going steady, mostly he's awesome, if a bit too rock and roll" BESTIE HES A LITERAL MURDERER
- "lately he's bumped off 3 of my classmates" EXACTLY
- "god have mercy on my soulllll" feel kinda bad for her here tbh like she's struggling hard
- "they were just 17" foreshadowing one of my favs
- "but now we'll never know...."
- "ok ur mad I get it," 👁️👄👁️ dude... you KILLED THEM?!? YOU CAN'T TAKE THAT BACK?!?!?!? LIKE YOUR HOT AND ALL BUT WHAT?!?!??!?!?!
- "ich lugë bullets? You lied to me," ich lugë literally means I lied
- "can they make you cry now?" "No, but you can..." Imma cry for the both of you
- "my teenage angst bullshit has a bodycount."
- "THEY WERE NOT DIRTY! *BAM BAM* THEY WERE NOT WRONG! *BAM BAM*"
- "I love my dead gay son 💅💃✨"
- "they just had ✨flare!✨"
- "IM TALKING YOU AND ME" *gAsP* "in the summer of 83" *gAsP* "........ THAT....... was one hell of a fishing trip,"
- THE GAY TIES <33333333333 I WANT ONE
- ok but let's be real Kurt and Ram were definitely at least bi you all saw the grunts
- "who's next?" Tf do you MEAN who's NEXT?!?!
- "I could underline some meaningful passages in moby dick iykwim..." "NoOoOoOOO!"
- "and then kaboom" oooh so he's got trauma
- 17 = the song that gets me sobbing
- "we're damaged, *really* damaged, but that DOES NOT make us wise"
- "we're not *special*, we're not *different*, we don't CHOOSE who LIVES or DIES" this song hits hard every time
- "lets be NORMAL! see bad movies, sneak a beer and watch TV..." She just wants to be a normal teenager let her have that please and thank you
- "that really blows," ummmmmmmm poor word choice
- "play some poker" the game that you lie in JD? Huh?
- ayyy we're getting some more chemistry now
- not the time for a makeout sesh
- "if I am what you choose," 😭😭😭😭😭
- "your the one I choose," but in the end neither can choose eachother so now imma cry myself to sleep
- "just stop talking " jdronica fans everywhere:
- AYYYYYYYY shine a light love it
- "did you have a brain tumour for breakfast? 🙄" "No I had oatmeal ☺️"
- "well fuck me gently with a chainsaw " THE QUOTE THE QUOTE THE QUOTE (no mother Teresa but but oh well)
- "I'm in love with this fat girl!"
- "Veronicas going to lady prison heheheh," shut up you prick
- Veronica no need to be a bitch about it, I know you want to protect her but bro
- "but I-" "bUt iiu-" heather chandler is dead funny
- ugh screw off miss Fleming you're making it worse
- CROUD INTERACTION GOES BRRRRRRR
- "whether to kill yourself or not is one of the hardest decisions a teenager can make," no joke bro, is that not common knowledge?
- shine a light is the exact stuff my school would pull if kids started committing suicide
- "STEVE! I'm ending our affair" Steve took it like a champ though
- I'm using the phrase "fan-fricken-tastic" whenever I can from now on
- the mood drop when heather said she wanted to kill herself was like 📉
- "and I'm like 'jesus I'm on the fricking bus again because all my rides to school are dead!'" they don't deserve you heather McNamara
- lifeboat is so real tho
- like that metaphor is so real
- heather McNamara is like dream role stuff
- "with people I know " not friends, because she doesn't feel like she has any friends anymore
- "are you saying westerberg is not a nice place?" Well yeah it sucks
- Martha looks so sad in the background
- "I don't patronise bunny rabbits?!"
- "I killed them!" No ur bf did but close enough
- shine a light reprise is literally me after 9:30 pm 🤡
- I'm probably sure they use tic-tacs
- "if everyone jumped off a bridge would you?" "Probably." Real
- "if you were happy all the time you wouldn't be a human being. You'd be a gameshow host" saved
- HOW MANY TICTACS DID THAT GIRL FIT IN HER MOUTH
- awwwww the hug is so cuteeee they have the best friendship dynamic
- (also people need to stop painting Mac as dumb, she's just naïve)
- "STOP TALKING OVER ME!" you tell him girl
- "I could make another son anytime I want," GO AWAY THAT'S AWFUL YOU A HORRIBLE TERRIBLE PERSON UGH YOU MAKE ME SICK I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU
- saved my aggression for him <3
- ok look I know he's a murderer but no-one deserves a parent like that, JD's shaking and he's like 17 this is not ok
- blud just shot a TV to take out his anger
- "I love the rush when you would hold me close but you will not be satisfied till I overdose" gnsgxcfzfzzggmsfs
- I SAY NOOOOOO
- "blame the life you neve had, but hurting people that's your choice my friend..." PREACH
- "but I love you!" Ur-ur pointing a gun at her. Dude.
- WAIT SHE ACTUALLY SAYS DUDE I FORGOT THAT
- "just in time I say nooo," um not quite
- "who's ready for the big game :D" such a vibe change
- why's the cheer chant so aggressive 😭
- "send you straight to hell!" They're highschoolers geez
- "nobody cares about Martha Dumptruck," I-i care?
- ok kindergarten is pretty good but the fact it doesn't rhyme makes me a little weird
- like it feels like a poem
- "some girls are meant to be alone," nooooooo
- she looks so happy like she's going to be free I'm going to cry :'(
- "we've been avoiding you because you're a terrible person" heck yeah
- "hmmmmm the plot thicknesssss"
- Chandler has the best lines
- yo girl is like anxiety but with ghosts
- "Veronicas running on running on fumes now Veronicas totally fried " same tune as Veronica open the door hehe
- knock knock 😃
- "BUT 🙌 BUT 🙌 BUT 🙌" he's so silly and murderous
- "BAM BAM BAM" JD should start a sound effects company
- even the way he says the chorus is eery
- no way he put "no thanks" on a suicide note 💀
- bro really wants to blow up an entire student body for one girl who doesn't even want him to
- (she said make this whole town disappear so he started at the school but she didn't mean it literally)
- "Veronica open the, open the door please" *intense tiktok flashbacks*
- ok but the swaying of her being hung was so realistic like whatttt
- I feel really bad for Veronicas mom here
- "noone here deserves to die except for ME and the monster I createddddd yeahhhh YEAHHHHH" devoured that high note
- HEADS UP JD IMMA DEAD GIRL WALKING 🗣️
- (the reprise is so much better fight me about it)
- (like sex 👎 homicide 👍)
- (could biased as an acespec but who gives a doughnut)
- "ONE LAST DANCE ABD THEN FAREWELL, CHEEK TO CHEEK IN HELL WITH A DEAD GIRLLLLLL WALKINGGGGGGG" awesome line
- ohhh the cheer chant makes sense now
- "I WISH YOUR DAD WERE GOOD I WISH GROWNUPS UNDERSTOOD" #mood
- "I wish I had more tnt" bruh
- she really brought a croquet mallet to a gun fight and won
- NO NO-ONE CAN HERE HER THEY'RE ALL GONNA DIEEEEEE
- "I still believe there's good in everyone," she's willing to die for them I'm crying
- "I am damaged" IM DEAD IM SOBBING I CAN'T ANYMORE
- IT'S REPEATING 17 BUT THIS TIME THEY CAN NEVER GET THE HAPPY ENDING
- "please stand back now. A little further,"
- "our love is god," "say hi to god" I'm a wreck now btw <3
- "you look like hell," "I just got back" SLAYYYYYY
- the parking of the mobility scooter got me ok. I have to be honest
- "my date for the pep rally kinda blew uuuuuuuuu - me off" that really blows Veronica
- "my friendddd" :') they're healing
- "if no-one loves me now, someday somebody will," awwwwww ok this is fixing me
- the overlap of beautiful and 17 works so well because there's so much hopeeeee
- BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFULLLLLLL
- even the bows are good
Ok that's it now if you made it to here I'm impressed because that's about 3000 words :)
Byeee
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
FIRST MAN DOWN X BEYOND PARADISE = THIS THING >:DDD
If ya read these fics then ya would be familar with these designs lolol
How this come to be? Idk one random day on discord I decided to ask Kong like "eyo I noticed how we both have Jophy designs and since MarMar n Zapper (love y'all) have this "rivalry" thing going on wouldn't it be cool if we draw smth for them?" And ba dang bing ba dang boom few months later (yes it takes that long) and here we are (。•̀ᴗ��-)✧
anywayyyyyyyy hope yall enjoy our collab \(@^0^@)/
11 notes
·
View notes