#i’m just saying that holly black did it That Much Better
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criminalgays · 2 years ago
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me, watching holly black have jude’s sisters come help her in her time of need even though they fight and don’t get along: so this what sjm thought she was doing with the archeron sisters. alright.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago
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the slow night
buttercup, chapter six
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a/n: he a hoe and I love him. thank you and goodnight.
summary: as the peck blossomed into something much more ravenous, a soft laugh began to billow out of you, “Mr. Murdock,” you tilted your head back as his lips began to flutter down your neck, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you came over here to seduce me.��
warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, the black daredevil suit, kissing, semi public sex (at the bakery), clothed sex, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral, protected sex, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms
word count: 3244
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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Leaning against the doorway to the small bakery bathroom, you watched Walter’s tongue poke out the side of his mouth as he flicked glittery stripes of eyeliner over his lids. 
“You sure you’re okay with closing up on your own tonight?” you heard Howard ask you as he sat on a low stool some space behind you, bending down to tie his shoes. 
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you smiled, glancing back over your shoulder at him, “you two deserve a night off.”
Staring out into space, your uncle leaned his tattooed forearms on his robust thighs a moment as he murmured, “you know, I don’t even remember the last time we went out…” casting a glance past you at the bald man in front of the mirror, Howard raised his voice, “honey, did you find out what queens are performing tonight?”
Popping the lid back on the pencil, the former club kid tilted his head approvingly in the reflection, “I think Holly Day still works Friday nights there, but other than that I have no idea,” he exited the bathroom, only to press a small peck to your cheek as he slid passed.
“Urgh,” you groaned with a smile, letting your inner child temporarily show as you dragged the back of your palm over the faint lipstick stain, “well, have fun you two!”
“Night, night, cupcake,” Howard blew you a few brief kisses as the pair scurried out of the shop, “don’t forget to feed the sourdough starter, oh! And mix a new batch of ginger maple cookies, portion them out and pop them in the freezing–, also–”
“Howard,” you interrupted him with a smile just as Walter pulled open the back door for them to exit, “I know what I need to do. I’ve done this countless of times before, I’ll be perfectly fine.”
“Alright,” he exhaled slowly.
“If it’ll help, I can send you a picture of the place before I lock up.”
A relieved smile then warmed up your uncle’s features, “thank you, sweetie.” 
Half yanking his husband out of the door, Walter offered you one last wave, “bye, Y/n!” before the solid door slammed shut behind them. 
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Bending down, you put the last one of the wide and clean bowls away on the bottom shelf of the metal storage system in the corner of the kitchen. 
The skirt of your dress swooshed gently around your legs as you straightened back up, like a summer breeze, fluttering against your skin. Reaching for a clean cloth, you briefly ran it under the tap before wiping down the aftermath beside the sink following your dance with the dishes. One of the tiny puddles of splashed water soaked your apron as you leaned over the steel table to reach deeper, turning it a darker shade of brown right over your belly button. 
Just then, from out of nowhere, “hi,” the voice of your neighbour echoed throughout the kitchen, thoroughly startling you and causing the rag to drop from your grasp.
“Ah!” you jumped, haven not even heard the back door creak open, “Matthew!” pressing a soothing palm to your chest as you spun around, a light giggle flowed from your lips, “oh my god, you scared the crap out of me!”
“Sorry,” he chuckled, leisurely leaning against the far counter close to the back exit. 
You already knew he’d be out on patrol tonight, but actually seeing him stand there before you was something else entirely. The black suit clung tight to his physic, and now that grave injuries no longer distracted and adorned his visage, the vision of the obsidian vigilante that stood in front of you proficiently provided you with a sinful shiver that trickled down your spine. 
“What are you doing here?” you asked, attempting to brush off the tingle that bloomed between your thighs. 
A bold smirk bloomed on his lips, visible below the dark mask, as he slowly stepped closer to you, “it’s a slow night,” gently tugging his gloves off and tossing them to the table he passed, an action you didn’t expect to find as seductive as you evidently did, goosebumps now blossoming all along your arms. 
“A slow night, huh?” you chuckled, tilting your chin as he neared. 
“And I was in the area,” he cocked his head as his hands settled on either side of your frame, leaning against the counter behind you.   
“How convenient,” you smiled, his light-hearted explanations not convincing you in the slightest. Matt’s fingers then found your chin, tilting it further up as he bent down to brush his lips against your own. Your knees nearly buckled as you felt yourself swiftly sink into the intoxicating sensation, your arms gliding up and over the black fabric that hugged him, till they were locked around his neck. As the peck blossomed into something much more ravenous, a soft laugh began to billow out of you, “Mr. Murdock,” you tilted your head back as his lips began to flutter down your neck, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you came over here to seduce me.”
Mirroring your own chuckle, he playfully tested, “and what if I am, huh?”
“Wait, really?” you giggled, your hands seized each side of his face and pulled him back a bit as his hot mouth worked wonders at making you lose your train of thought, “you sure you weren’t just hungry or something?”
“Hm,” his palms slid up to cup over yours as he cheekily said, “something, yeah…” peeling your fingers off of his stubbly cheeks, he placed a few pecks in your open palms, “I would fucking love a taste of something sweet.”
Tearing your gaze away from his onyx visage, you briefly cast a glance around the space, “uhm, I don’t really know what’s left over from today, but there might be someth–”
“Nuh-uh, that’s not the kinda treat I was thinking of,” he smirked brightly as he wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you in closer to his warmth as his fingers sneaked under the apron’s knot. 
Finally reading his obvious subtext, “o-oh,” you couldn’t help but giggle as he then leaned down to kiss you again, swallowing your laugh till it melted away into a low moan that vibrated against his lavish tongue. 
Scrambling closer, you damn nearly climbed him like a tree with how desperately you clawed at his mass. When his touch slid further down your frame and curved around your ass, he briefly offered you a squeeze that you swore soared all the way to the sensitive nerve endings in your throbbing clit, before he scooped you up and sat you down on the steel countertop. As he slotted his width in between your parted thighs, his teeth playfully caught your bottom lip. 
Fluttering your fingers further up, you cupped the sides of his face as the heated make-out slowly began to ease. The tips of your touch grazed the bottom of his black mask as you gently pulled back.
Blinking back at him through your lashes, your digits ghosted over the material as you uttered, “…can I take this off?” 
A faint smile tugged at his lips as he softly nodded, “mhm,” and let you peel the charcoal mask off of him. Letting it drop to the table right beside where you sat, you gazed back at him for a moment, his chocolate eyes gently crinkled up in bliss as you briefly traced a light caress over a few of his newly revealed features before you sealed your lips with his once more. 
Undoubtedly, your panties must have clung to your core at this point from how soaked they felt. 
Abruptly, Matt’s soft lips suddenly strayed from yours. Fluttering your gaze open, a giggle bubbled out of your lungs as you saw him slowly sink down to the tile floor beneath you. 
“Matty,” you beamed, your touch straying from his cheek as he settled down on his knees. 
Slowly raising a sliver of your hemline up to your knees, his lips grazed against your shin and leisurely roamed further north. 
Burying your fingers in the fabric of your dress, you gently began to hike it up till it, and the brown apron, bunched above your hips. 
Your breathing was ragged, and your mouth hung agape when his kisses neared your centre. One of his warm palms stayed planted on your inner thigh after he’d split your legs further to grant himself better access as you sat there, nearly dangling on the edge. 
A shiver ran through you when he placed a brief kiss to the soaked spot soddening your underwear, before his reach extended and hooked the cotton to the side, a sting of your slick clung momentarily to the fabric before snapping back against your core. 
“Fuck,” he let out a gravelly groan and you felt his breath tickle your cunt before his hand, the one not clutching your soaked panties, curled around your frame and tugged you towards him, closing the minuscule distance between his zealous mouth and your glistening centre.
Parting your petals with dizzying laps, Matt let out a moan as he made out with your pussy, the tickling vibrations caused your thighs to tremble beside his head. 
“God…” spellbound, he pulled back for but a second, “your pussy tastes like fucking heaven,” before he tilted his chin and enraptured your clit, fervently sucking down on it in a way that made your eyes roll in your skull. 
“Oh my god, I–, I–…” you panted, sensing yourself race towards the finish line, but even with how incredible his tongue made you feel, deep down within you rumbled a feral feeling for more. As your pelvis bucked lightly against his efforts, you gasped, “Matt… get up…” unsure if you’d ever felt so empty in your entire life, “get up right fucking now.” When he rose, the lower part of his face glinting with your want, he didn’t get a chance to say anything before you yanked him by his shirt and crashed your lips against his. With the intoxicating taste of yourself lingering on your mouth, your heavy breath fanned across his face as you desperately uttered, “in the corner behind you, on the hook beside where my coat is, my bag, the little front pocket.”
Breathlessly, his expression fogged up in soft puzzlement, “what?” 
“I went to the drugstore earlier,” you said, hoping that you wouldn’t have to spell it out for him. 
It actually took him a second for him to realise what you were talking about, “oh,” as if he hadn’t hoped or expected anything more than what you’d just let him do. Crossing the room in mere moments, a playful chuckle rumbled from his chest as he fished out the box of condoms, “this is a big pack… were you planning on seducing me?”
Rolling your eyes, you giggled, “oh, shut up and get back here.”
As soon as he was back in your reach, your fingers began to fiddle with his belt, impatiently freeing him as you virtually drooled seeing the imprint of his cock strain against the dark fabric of his pants. 
“Put it on, please, please, I wanna feel you so bad,” you begged as he ripped the foil packet open. 
“Oh, yeah?” 
“Yes, please,” your hungry eyes were glued to his breath-taking fist as he offered himself a brief pump before he hastily rolled the condom on, “Matt, if you don’t fuck me right now then I’ll lose my fucking mind.”
Sighs flowed from the both of you in unison when Matt sank into your drooling cunt. You almost felt drunk, that’s how wound up you’d gotten.
“Oh, you feel so fucking good,” Matt exhaled, letting his forehead melt against your own as he rolled his hips, getting impossibly deep before drawing back a bit and finding a rhythm that caused your legs to be like crickets, shakily rubbing against either side of his frame as fucked you, “sweetheart–, christ… you’re about to cum, aren’t you?” his lips tilted up into a smirk. 
“D-don’t you dare stop,” you panted, clawing needily against his torso. 
“I won’t, I promise,” he then sank a hand down between your frames to tickle your puffy pearl, “I could do this all day, baby.” 
You collapsed back on your elbows when your pussy fluttered around him and a lewd cry accompanied the high. 
Panting against the cool table, you hazily blinked up at him as he then uttered in the deepest sincerity. 
“God, I'm crazy about you, Y/n,” his expression was soft and dreamlike, “you know that?”
Your eyes went wide a moment, entirely forgetting how to fill your aching lungs, “really?” you then regained control rather gracelessly as you nearly coughed, “sorry... I forgot how to breathe for a second there,” the grin that bloomed on your lips nearly hurt.  
Snatching one of your hands up in his, he weaved his fingers with your own, “you okay?”
“Yeah… I’m amazing…” you gazed up at him, “I’m also completely and utterly wild about you,” you then tugged on his hand, drawing him down enough for your lips to graze against his. 
His hips instinctively rolled as your tongue flicked across his own, grinding briefly into your sensitivity before he noticed and went back to being completely still within you. 
But when your sloppy kiss then parted, you tilted your own hips a bit, slowly fucking yourself shallowly on his cock. As he gently offered you a tender thrust, gradually pulling out of your clinging cunt just a tad, you glanced down between the shy space betwixt you and spotted the ring of your cream that stained the base of his dick. 
“Fucking hell,” you whimpered as he straightened his spine back out and brought the back of your palm up to his lips, “I don’t get how I bounce back so quickly with you. It’s like you just have to smile and then I’m just–, oh my god!” you moaned as he changed his angle, brushing directly against a spot that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. 
“Oh, you like that? Right there?” he repeated the same lavish motion. 
“Y-yes–,” with your interlocked fingers, he then pulled you back up to a sitting position, the shift leaving you breathless, “fuck. You feel so good right now,” his hand let go of yours as it then snaked around your back, his burly forearm supporting your spine as the fingers reached up to weave within your hair, gently scraping his short nails over the nape of your neck.
Drawing you in even closer, your chest pressed against his as he kissed your cheek sweetly while he kept his pace meticulous and precise. 
Hugging onto his broad shoulders, your head dropped down to rest against one of them as you then muttered, “harder,” your gaze hazy on the kitchen behind him before your eyes fluttered shut. When he then snapped his hips forward a little more electrically, you weakly repeated in his ear, “harder.”
Slamming into your needy cunt so fiercely that the sound of your skin colliding echoed off the tile walls and a bit of drool began to stain his dark shirt as your cheek stayed smooshed against his width. 
“That it?” he growled silkily, “huh?” but when you couldn’t form any coherent words within the mess of moans that flowed from your lips, you didn’t have to see his face to know the grin that bloomed on his face, “aw, it’s alright, sweetheart,” his grip tightened in your hair, “you’re doing so good for me,” tugging intoxicatingly right at the roots, “just relax… that’s it… good girl…”
Keeping his pace rough, he lavishly slid out of you till just his bulbous tip plugged you up, before ramming his cock back in so feverishly that you could scarcely breathe at all, just tremble in his embrace, listening to the pure filth that he murmured in your ear, till you both tumbled over the edge. 
With his spent girth nuzzled against your tender pussy, faint hums of contentment flowed from your lungs as Matt gently stroked your hair, his other arm wrapped around you as well as he kept your sluggish frame close to his long after you’d both regained your breaths. 
As your fingers disappeared below his neckline and softly rubbed against the warm skin, your voice eventually found his ear, “okay, so I know that you didn’t come in here for a late-night snack,” the corners of your lips tilted upwards, “but now I’m kinda hungry.” 
With a gentle chuckle rumbling within his chest, he briskly tugged himself away and untangled himself from you, “one second,” his lips pressed against your hairline before you saw him turn around and wander out of the kitchen. 
As you watched him disappear into the front of the bakery, you tugged your panties back over your mess and pushed your dress back down, “oh, I'm not sure if there’s anything left out there–”
“Do you want a raisin bun or a very seedy one?” he asked and your brows flew up as you still hadn’t gotten used to how perceptive his heightened senses let him be. 
“Oh, uhm,” you blinked, completely blown away, “raisin.” 
Appearing before you once more, he handed you the speckled bun, “here.”
Smiling adoringly back at him, “thank you,” you sank your teeth into the pillowy treat before offering him a small bite, which he gladly accepted as a tender laugh rolled out of him. When you had consumed the sweet bun, a soft yawn promptly flowed out of you, “fuck,” his palms were warm at your waist as your arms briefly curled up beside your head, “I can’t wait to get back home and sleep.”
“How much do you have left to do till you can lock up?”
“Not too much,” your hands dropped back down and rested atop of his for a moment, “how about you? How long do you think you’ll be out there?” 
“Probably not too much longer either,” his head tilted gently before he leaned back in. 
“Alright,” you smiled, tenderly pressing your lips to his before he snatched up the discarded mask and tugged it back over his features. As his feet began to carry him towards the exit, he paused as soon as you said, “hey Matt?”
“Yeah?” the vigilante twisted back to face you. 
A bubble of nerves suddenly fluttered in your belly as you uttered, “when you get back tonight, could you maybe–, uhm… or maybe I could–…”
Swiftly getting at what you were trying to convey, Matt simply marched right back to where you sat and pulled you in for a kiss. Cradling your cheeks a moment longer as he slowly pulled back, he smiled, “there’s a spare key to my place behind the radiator in the hallway.”
Gazing back at him, you uttered, “okay,” feeling like you were floating on a cloud. 
“I'll try not to get home too late,” he breathed, pressing his lips to yours one last time before he backed up again. 
Calling after him, “be safe!” he stopped on the threshold of the back door for a second, silhouetted by the dark city as he flashed you a grin before he disappeared into the night, leaving you in the bakery alone, feet dangling off the table as a bright smile tenaciously lit up your face. 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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marvelobsessed134 · 11 months ago
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I’m not that innocent
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A/n: Set around the events of Iron Man 2. Instead for Natasha spying on Tony, you will take her place. (Love Nat tho don’t get me wrong). This has been sitting in my drafts for *ehem* about 500 years but here it is :)
Warnings: smut, blowjobs, getting caught (not sexually), degradation, reader goes by a undercover name for a short amount of time, reader doesn’t get to cum lol, and I think that’s it let me know if I forgot anything.
Summary: Tony catches onto your act
This mission was simple enough. Go undercover as Tony Stark’s assistant to collect information on him for Nick Fury. Originally your friend Natasha was supposed to go on this mission but unfortunately she got sick with the flu so Fury asked you to take over.
You were nervous since Tony is a powerful CEO, literally Iron Man, and he’s mega hot. But you knew you had to set aside your personal feelings to successfully get this mission done. The CEO was obviously flirty with you, and you couldn’t help but be a little flustered. Everything was going according to plan until one day.
You were caught bent over in his office, looking through one of his file drawers when you heard a door open, close and lock. A grunt filled the room. You quickly looked up to see non other than your target. Standing there like a deer in the headlights, you just stared back at the older (and albeit larger) man.
“What do you think you’re doing Missy?” Tony asked as he slowly started to stalk towards you. “Just looking for these files that Pepper wanted.” You tried to easily make up a lie.
“That’s interesting because Pepper left early today.” Ah, shit. You are so cooked.
“Oh! Um, sorry must’ve slipped my mind um-“
“What were you doing sifting through my private files?”
Quick, Y/n, say something! Your mind shouted at you. But really, what excuse were you supposed to use now? Especially since he called your bullshit on your first one. Without even having to say anything, Tony spoke up, “I have a feeling you’re not really an assistant. You work for SHIELD is that right?” Okay, how the fuck did he get that spot on?
It must’ve been written all over your face because he said, “Yeah, I’ve had an inkling for awhile. I bet your name isn’t really Holly Brooks. What’s your real one?”
You were too scared and stunned to speak and so the raven haired man lifted your chin with his index finger and said in a lower tone, “I said, what is your real name?”
You gulped, “Y/n. Y/n L/n.”
“That name suits you far better than Holly does. And because you’re so pretty, I’ll let you out of this office and I can forget you ever did anything.” You looked at him with a surprised but hopeful expression.
“But you’re gonna have to earn it, sweetheart.”
“Earn it? How?” You had an idea of what this “earning” would entail and it made your panties damp.
“I think you know what I want.” He said cockily before pushing the file drawer closed and walking to his desk chair before sitting down in a leaning position. “Get on your knees pretty girl.” You were quick to obey, getting on your knees as you looked at him with doe eyes.
“You gonna undo my pants or what? Are too much of a dumb spy to not know how to suck cock?” His degrading words sent you spiraling and you let out a quiet, “Sorry sir.” Before buckling his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down allowing his large cock to spring free. Your eyes widened at the size and the tip already leaking of precum. You did wear a revealing outfit today, a white blouse with the first three buttons undone to show your black lacy bra, and a shirt black pencil skirt with just your matching panties under it. Maybe you were waiting for this moment…
You took his cock in your hand and began to jerk him off before taking the tip in your mouth and sinking down his length. “Oh fuck.” Tony hissed as you began to suck him off, bobbing your head up and down and jerking off whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. The older man gripped your hair roughly and started to control your movements, using your mouth as his own personal fleshlight.
“Such a slut, you like this don’t you? I know you’ve been waiting for this moment ever since I saw you staring at me a couple times with those fuck me eyes.” He groaned out, enjoying the way tears filled your eyes as you helplessly sat there on your knees being used by him.
“Who knew you were such a good cocksucker? I’m gonna have to keep you around.” His words made your brain short circuit and encouraged you to lick him and help him get to his finish while he was using your mouth.
“Shit, I’m gonna cum. You better take it all or I swear to god-“ The CEO cut himself off when he released his seed into your mouth and down your throat, you swallowed it all and he pulled you off his dick, leaning your head back to look at you. Your mascara was messed up, your face was wet from tears, and your eyes were blissed out.
“Such a pretty girl. Could’ve treated you real nice, taken you out to dinner before I take you home and destroy that little cunt. Too bad you have to be a whore.” His tone was so condescending and somehow that made it better.
“Get up.” Tony commanded and let go of your hair. You stood up and watched him rise as well, taking his blazer jacket off and loosening his tie before unbuttoning his shirt and fully getting rid of his pants. He grabbed you and pushed you against the side of his desk, kissing you hungrily. You kissed him back, hands wandering his sculpted body like it was the best thing you’ve ever put your hands on.
The raven haired man ripped your white shirt open and roughly pulled the cups of your bra down to expose your breasts, letting them pop out effortlessly. He tweaked and played with your nipples, spitting on them, sucking them, making you moan and squeal in the overwhelming sensation.
Then he pulled your skirt up roughly, and cupped your clothed core, “So fucking wet. Just from sucking my dick? Or was it being naughty and getting caught doing something you shouldn’t have been doing? Which is it?”
“Both.” You answered obediently and honestly.
“Fucking slut.” He huffed before ripping your panties off which caused you to gasp but you didn’t have a chance to open your mouth when he turned you around and bent you over as if you were nothing.
He slapped your ass once, twice, three times before lining up his cock to your dripping entrance. As he gripped your hips he slowly pushed in making the two of you moan. Oh god, you thought to yourself, his employees can probably hear this. They think you’re just another one of his conquests. In way, you are.
“Oh fuck! So fucking tight!” Tony growled as he began to thrust and fuck into you faster and harder slapping your ass occasionally. “Such a bad girl, thinking you can tease me all day, make me hard in meetings, just to try and fucking spy on me,” he scoffs, as if the whole situation was pathetic, “but now I have my cock deep your pussy so, at least one of us is winning.” He continued to fuck you senseless, your hands gripping the edge of the desk. You couldn’t hide your moans and cries as the CEO repeatedly hit your g spot.
“Oh god! I’m gonna cum!” You cried.
“Yeah? Do you think you deserve it? After all you did?” Tony grunted.
“Yes! Please let me cum! I’ve been such a good girl so far!” Your cries and pleads were pathetic. You were pathetic, Tony thought. And god was he having the time of his life.
He felt himself getting closer and closer to edge and said, “Yeah, I don’t think so.” And pulled out of you before shooting his cum on your ass.
You whined at the loss of contact and orgasm making him laugh and say, “If you want to cum, you have to let me take you out to dinner. And get rid of any files you might have stolen from me digital and physical copies.
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madockisser · 13 days ago
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Can I ask you something?
I've been thinking about this for a long time and I'm really curious, but I'm not that sure. You're way better at this type of stuff, so I wanted to ask you.
Ok, so-
If Eva did NOT become pregnant with Vivienne and did NOT have a romance with Justin and if she wanted to leave Elfhame (because the faeries were cruel to her and she's a human there, even if she's Madoc's wife) would Madoc let her leave?
I think that he'd probably beg her to stay and swear that he'd kill anyone who dared to hurt her, but what if she was really insistent on going home?
I think he'd let her leave in the end, even if he was heartbroken, but I really want your take on this
No pressure though, thank you!
Would madoc have allowed Eva to leave him?/ madoc and his development toward humans/eva x madoc analysis
ok so i wrote this then tumblr crashed and now im fuming bc i have to rewrite it but ill do my best (bashing my head against the wall) also this is so messy im just warning you now
OKAY. so Eva and madoc. First of all: can we just picture madoc, glamoured to be a human (and looking terribly uncanny) but also courting Eva in the 80’s/90’s. 😛
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This pic is from Taryn’s novella, and it’s her take on madoc and Eva’s relationship. We don’t know if it’s canon or not, bc how would Taryn know, she could just be assuming.
but i imagine that madoc was better than vivienne in the sense that he told Eva early on what he was.
Edit: I’m not sure he could’ve hid it very well. Madoc is a goblin, his skin is green and i always assumed he was pretty giant. can you IMAGINE how his glamoured human illusion would’ve looked lmao. scary! But also sexy (sorry)
It’s pretty much stated above that Eva knew he was different, that he smelled of blood and scared her family and friends.
but for whatever reason, she looked past the red flags and loved him more for it (ig we know where jude gets her delusion from)
anyway, seems like she vastly underestimated how her life would change upon being whisked away to elfhame, bc she soon became homesick and left, burning his house down and a pregnant human corpse in its wake.
Eva seems to me to be used to getting what she wants, according to Taryn’s pov and based on how madoc has described her, she was beautiful and clever and cheerful. Lots of fun. She didn’t like dwelling on the past.
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she sounds a lot like vivienne. But also like jude in Taryn- willing to risk everything for happiness.
anyway, imo, it was clear that she wasn’t gonna be happy in elfhame, and cling to whatever familiarities she could. Including another human man.
Now idk if she loved Justin. I assume she did, and maybe loved his attention too. Whereas madoc could only be there with her briefly before leaving her. (I assume she came to love Justin, as they had kids together and she helped him sell shit on eBay)
I saw someone once say that she left bc she was afraid of madoc finding out abt their affair which could make sense, but idk. The fae aren’t often monogamous, BUT, Eva is a human, and the way Taryn describes, he sounds like a traditional sort of husband. He probably expected her to remain monogamous despite being around the fae.
BUT. We also don’t know if she was even seeing Justin at this point. She could’ve started seeing him after she left. Maybe he followed her back home bc he was in love with her. who knows.
Now onto the ask:
(I misread the ask and finished the analysis so the first half is me answering if Eva were in fact preggo w Madocs baby and wanted to leave, but the other half is if she wasn’t preggo and wanted to leave- SORRY)
this is interesting, and i have thought about different ways madoc may react to Eva and her feelings,
but… if Eva were pregnant with his child, and she wanted to leave him, idk, i think he MAY allow it, but im sure he’d insist on still being a part of the child’s life.
In the darkest part of the forest, another holly black book in the tfota universe, there is a changeling boy named jack. he’s fae and his bio family and him still communicate, all while he lives w his human family too. i think that would be like how vivienne would’ve grown up should madoc have allowed Eva to leave.
Madoc is very devoted to family, and i don’t think he’d just knowingly allow Eva to be miserable as his wife in elfhame. i think he would let her leave, maybe he’d be devastated, bc in his words “his life was reduced to ash”(especially seeing as he cannot lie, Eva and vivi were his whole life to him) when the mortal woman’s remains were left at his estate.
you’re right abt him sorta freaking tho, stomping around threatening to hurt anyone that may hurt Eva, mirrors how he was when jude actually was hurt in tcp.
i think he’d be like that, SAYING how he would fix the problem, but not actually LISTENING to Eva or her wants and needs.
but i doubt he’d allow her to be miserable in elfhame. maybe he’d be blind to it at first, but eventually see Eva’s pain: that’s kinda how i assumed their canon relationship was. him leaving for war and not knowing how much Eva missed him and didn’t want him to leave her alone.
Edit: madoc seems kinda air headed lmao. he was oblivious to how jude was being treated, and i assume he was oblivious to however Eva was being treated as well.
it took great lengths for madoc to understand human nature, even with his human daughters, he was still learning more and more after the exile, and in the prisoners throne, when surens human sister was in elfhame.
but he allowed Taryn to marry Locke, knowing that it was a betrayal to her family, knowing that she would be miserable. He allowed her to choose her own life, even if he didn’t agree or want it. (It is to be noted that he could’ve just allowed Locke to marry Taryn bc Locke gave him the ghosts true name for it)
But Taryn is his daughter while Eva was his wife; maybe he wouldn’t have shared those reservations? he also may not have known at this point to allow Eva her own happiness and life choices. maybe he learned that from Eva after she left him.
Now I’m not entirely sure if he would allow Eva to leave WITH Justin. like if he found out that him and Eva were gonna raise vivi together in the mortal world. i don’t think he’d allow that, not for jealousy reasons (entirely), but bc i don’t think he’d want his former human worker to raise his daughter.
in his eyes, his daughter is of high status and is his own blood.
Madoc is a man of honor and of high status, it looked bad for him to have his blacksmith steal his wife and child away and brag about it. Maybe he would’ve let them leave, but in typical faerie nature, Justin probably would’ve met a cruel end. (turning into a rock, or mermaids plucking his eyes out, or some terrible fae misfortune)
that end could’ve also been of madocs hand or not, (i recall in twk when someone sent rubies to the injured courtier to gain cardans favor) maybe someone that wanted madoc to owe him would’ve sought out Justin to attain some power over madoc, for killing the man that stole his wife and child away from him.
and if this were public knowledge in elfhame, meaning that if Eva publicly left him for the mortal world, I’m not sure it would take long for some sort of revenge to take place. The fae dont like when humans one up them. or steal from them.
OKAY onto the ACTUAL ask: Would madoc have let Eva leave if she WASNT preggo and Justin wasn’t in the picture?
tbh, i think he’d really work to try to make her stay. He’d probably shower her with riches and luxuries and everything she could’ve wanted. but obviously, madoc cannot help what he is, and if faced with the choice: rekindle marriage w human woman he loves OR go to war for the high king to sate his bloodlust … well.
(This also sets the scene for madoc x oriana in future books. Madoc is no longer the grand general. He has blood lust to sate, sure, but no longer can he go out and just murder. i think he can finally be happy with oriana)
im not entirely sure. i dont think he’d give up his position as grand general for Eva. Despite him saying that “his life was reduced to ash” when Eva and his baby were “burned alive” im not sure. he craved power over family, we see it time and time again.
(Edit: madoc MAY have given it up. He didn’t for jude. But she’s not blood, she’s Justin’s child. Maybe he loved Eva more than he loved her. Harsh, but that’s how the fae are. That’s how cardan is with jude imo. No one else but her.)
madoc literally stabbed jude to be high king, BUT in his eyes, he also did it for oak? He also later says in the prisoners throne that “if it were not for all of my mistakes, i would not have the family i do now”, so pretty much he views his treatment of his family as a mistake, but is happy that he has them, so he’s come to terms w the fact that he killed his wife and her husband, and also stabbed Jude and stuff.
ugh. he’s terribly complex so i don’t really know. But like i said, he did allow Taryn to go w Locke. he also allowed vivienne to come and go from the mortal world, to do as she pleases. he allowed oak to be half raised in the mortal world and also elfhame. he seems to do what he thinks is best for his family to be happy, so long as they align with his goals and don’t get in the way of his plans.
The madoc we saw from Jude’s pov during her life, would probably allow Eva to leave, but the madoc that did not have the familial experience, maybe? We have no way of knowing how different Eva’s madoc and Jude’s madoc are. If that makes any sense at all. it’s complicated lol.
what i mean is that Madoc learned a great deal from Eva leaving him. but before that, when his wife and child died and he mourned them. and then he found them alive and with another man. those things change a person. grief changes people. so does betrayal.
but madoc once did say that he wasnt particularly changeable ? yeah i mean overall i think he would’ve let Eva leave, bc he loved her and wanted her to be happy, even if he didnt understand that humans would risk much for happiness. maybe he acknowledged that she was not happy in elfhame but thought she would get over it?
Asha did once say that humans get homesick in elfhame. maybe he thought the same, maybe he thought it would pass.
if he let her leave he probably would’ve kept an eye on her, him or his spies. To keep her safe from his opps who probably would’ve loved to use Eva against madoc. they have dark romance potential (sorry) but like imagine stalker madoc (sorry) 😍
random add on after looking at the ask: I’m not sure Eva was TOO poorly treated in elfhame. she had a high status, higher than the twins, and yeah they were treated like shit but privately yk. bc everyone feared madocs wrath. and if she got sick of elfhame maybe her and madoc could’ve continued their relationship off of the isles of elfhame? Madoc coming and going while she lived her normal life? some characters (human and faeries in relationships) do that in other holly black books. even tho they age and will eventually die. not sure madoc would like that tho. i can see him sparing himself the agony by not seeing her at all.
right- sorry for that HOT HOT mess. I’m emptying drafts and feel totally bad for not answering any asks in such along time. anyone else get awful anxiety when thinking about picking up a book? i get that way for some reason 😐 also im so busy last night i was up til 7am doing work
Like i mentioned in the beginning, my tumblr crashed while i was revising so this may be extra messy. Sorry!
anyway i hope that made sense. i think abt them too often tbh. let me know if i missed anything (or if anyone sees a typo)! thx love u 🫶
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redcoralpot · 14 days ago
Note
Hiii!!! I’ve seen that you’re slow w writing and I don’t mean to nag or rush you at all but I just wanted to know if you’re still going to be/planning on updating smudged ?
Smudged Chapter Eight - Is it Effort?
Chapter Summary: You and Rodrick work on the final touches of your projects in his room, not that work stops you from messing with him.
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 1.1K
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“How have you ever managed to pass middle school?” You rolled your eyes, raising your eyebrow at where Rodrick was perched on the floor, markers and pencils scattered around him.
He scoffed, “Pure coolness, uh, how’d you think I did it?”
You spun lazily on a nearby chair because God knows you wanted to avoid sitting on Rodrick’s, of all people’s, bed. It’d been a week since you set off with the two biggest, and one sweetest, dumbass into the forest to fail at any sort of prolificacy. Your own project sat half-finished on the desk in front of you, along with abandoned scissors and colored construction paper. The birds outside the window sang tunes as the sun prepared to exit the sky, some sweet and others a little annoying, but the days were getting notably shorter. A sigh here, a shrug there, and you started to chip back at your project again. 
“Coolness? Yeah, right, maybe los–” The final word caught on your tongue, and it struck you how much that made you sound like Heather. Fuck, that made you cringe. But if Rodrick even got a whiff that you were feeling pity for him, he’d never let you forget it.
“Maybe by making teachers lose their shit.”
Rodrick scribbled glue onto the back of a photo, and when he stuck it on, the corners immediately sprung back, “That’s practically a synonym to what I just said!”
“Woah, there, sweetcheeks. That’s a big word,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your lips like venom, or perhaps honey to a guy like Rodrick.
He sat up on his elbows and turned around to stick his tongue at you. By doing so, you got a good glance at what he’d just stuck on his project, a sight that made you stand up in offense and lean over him, “Dude, what the fuck? That’s my best photo– at least glue it on right so it doesn’t fly off and get trampled on in the hallway.”
“Uh,” Rodrick stared up at you, lips wet and slightly parted before finding their way into an indignant sneer, “who says I’m driving to school on time?”
“Ah, that’s right! It’ll get violently abused in the back of your van, much better.”
You knelt down and picked up a marker. The feeling of your binder cutting into your skin, something that will definitely leave a bright red line on your stomach by tonight, made you frown. But still, you persisted, and lodged the end of the marker in between your molars before tugging hard. It opened with a pop, the lid still stuck between your teeth while you signed the photo as quick as the lightning doodles Rodrick had drawn on the margins. Oh, yeah, those aggravating cursive lessons in elementary school sure came in handy now.
Spitting the cap onto the smelly, stained carpet underneath Rodrick, you tossed the marker in his direction, which unfortunately ended with a streak of black on his cheek before it actually landed in his hands. You chuckled at the sight, and even more so at his gaping jaw.
“Consider it a souvenir to remember me by after your teacher takes your ass to detention, cornball.”
Rodrick scowled, “How do you have a better signature than me, an actual, very real, very awesome rockstar?”
“Guess.”
He rolled his eyes, whining, “It always circles back to school with you.”
“It sounds like somebody’s catching on! Welcome to real life, we’re so pumped to have you.”
Squeals and banging footsteps echoed from downstairs, a sure sign that Greg and Rowley were home from terrorizing the neighborhood in one way or another. You kind of hoped Greg hadn’t and wouldn’t pick up on Rodrick’s old treatment of Heather, because you took notice of the way his ears went all red when Holly looked his way. Yes, that’s right, you thought. Old treatment. Despite Heather’s continuous offstandish behavior whenever Rodrick came over to your house, as was her right, he no longer threw infamous jokes her way, nor did he stare in the direction of her room. It was a tad bit weird having him be so focused– at least for him– on a school project.
Hell, you were a little proud.
Rodrick reached towards his cheeks, and you instinctively curled your lip and turned away in preparation for the dirty move he was about to pull, the one he knew never failed to make you queasy. But instead of pulling down his bottom eyelids, Rodrick loudly exclaimed, “Ugh– aw, damn it! Why didn’t you tell me my eyeliner leaked?”
You glanced towards him and a snicker bubbled up from deep in your chest. A decently large smudge that matched the one on his cheek sat on his fingertips, “Yeah, you got a little… marker.”
The gesture to your own face made him scowl.
“Fuck you. Ten times over.”
“Well, I really have the opposite preference, but that’s none of your damn business.” You shake your head, smirking, “Let me just–”
Spitting into your hand, you spread your saliva over your fingers, and reached over to rub it all over the stain on his face. At first, it appeared promising. Wisps of hair fell over his eyes, blending into the still intact eyeliner, smelling of cheap hairspray he probably got at the local gas station. Strangely enough, you could smell traces of cologne and pine soap, two things you could swear were Mr. Heffley’s deal. It only slightly masked the smell of grease.
But then, as you drew back and wiped your hand on your black shirt, you found that the stain was still there. Bigger. Maybe a little more opaque on the sides? You scratched your neck.
“I think it was a waterproof marker.”
“What the hell? No, nuh-uh,” Rodrick launched to his feet, “you’re so gonna pay for that!”
Your body cracked into motion before you even processed that an incredibly angry, lanky boy was barreling towards you, and hopped on the bed towards the window. It wasn’t locked, nor did it have a screen, as was expected. Fuck the no bed rule, it didn’t apply in war.
You managed to wiggle it open and slide out, balancing on the roof like you’d been doing for the past few days– who knew avoiding the Heffleys’ prying questions about your recent appearances would actually be helpful? Rodrick leaned out the window, cackling, “No fair, that’s foul play! You know I don’t have shoes on.”
“Duh.”
“Yet.” He disappeared into the dark of his room, and you didn’t waste any time trying to find out if he was serious. You knew him well enough that chances are, he was.
Waving your hand, you yelled, “See you tomorrow morning, Heffley!”
The studs on your belt scratched against the shingles as you climbed down, landing swiftly on a few boxes you had previously stacked. You didn’t turn back, sturdy soles clicking in a rhythm against road pavement as the sun finally settled to sleep.
-
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sweetdispatch · 3 months ago
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Lottie's 18th birthday - N. Hischier
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When Two Sports Collide timeline: August 2019 summary: Lisa and Nico' first meeting is interrupted but there are chemistry in between them warning: none note: first chapter is here! it might look chaotic but that's because it's just a beginning, i promise haha
Charlotte always dreamt about having a big 18th birthday party. Her parents agreed to leave her whole house so she can invite her friends and celebrate. They knew how important this is for her. Maya was helping Lottie with organising this whole party. At first, Melissa agreed to help but due to trainings before the start of the season, she couldn’t be there. 
The day that Lottie was waiting all her life finally came. Thankfully, Lisa got a free weekend and could spend this day with her best friend. They’ve been growing up together in Trondheim but Charlotte moved to Switzerland when she was 13 because her father got a job there. They stayed in touch and had been each other's support.
Lottie decided that her party is gonna be themed: Hollywood. She loved the aesthetic and vibe. Lisa loved this idea because of her season, she was missing a Halloween party and this was a perfect opportunity to be dressed up. She forced Sander to do matching costumes and they showed up dressed up as Holly and Paul from Breakfast at Tiffany’s - her favorite movie. Maya decided to be Marylin Monroe and Nico just wore a black suit. 
Whole party was full of people. Lottie was a popular girl and got along with everyone without problems. The celebration was full of alcohol, dancing and singing. When the clock reached 8:37PM, the exact hour she was born, Lisa and her boyfriend Sander brought a cake so she could blow out the candles. Everyone cheered up when she did it and she just smiled widely. Soon, they started screaming “speech” while she laughed. 
“Thank you so much for coming to the party! It’s great to see all of you and feel the love from you. I’ve always dreamt about a huge party and it’s like a dream come true. I hope you’re having a great night. Me and Maya tried to have the best party you’ve ever been to and I think it worked” Lottie said and everyone screamed confirming her words.
“Having this moment of your attention, I want to mention my best friend Lisa…” Everyone looked at her and she stood there not trusting what her friend might say.
“She’s my favorite person in the whole world and I’m proud of her. Many of you don’t know her but she’s an athlete and she just played her first professional season. And you won’t believe it. She won the Norwegian League and to make it better, she won bronze in the Champions League but it’s nothing. The real drill is that she…” Lottie threw her arm around your shoulder. 
“She scored the winning goal for the bronze. Thanks to this beauty, her club won their first ever Champions League medal!” Lottie screamed excitedly. Everyone started clapping when Lisa’ face was burning. “Okay, now it’s time for cake and let’s come back to celebrating… me” She laughed. 
After the cake, Lisa approached Lottie. “Thanks for the speech but I didn’t want to steal your spotlight” She hugged her. 
“Are you kidding me? You deserved it!” Lottie argued back. Before you got the chance to answer, a guy came to you two.
“Are you Lisa?” He asked. Lottie left you two alone and went to celebrate with other people.
“Yeah, that’s me and you are?” She asked.
“I’m Nico. I heard Lottie’s speech and wanted to congratulate you” He said. “It’s a big thing to win the Champions League medal in…”
“Handball. I’m playing handball” She answered.
“That’s cool. I’m an athlete too” 
“Oh, what are you playing?” She leaned against the kitchen island.
“Hockey. It's my second season now but I don’t have any cool achievements to show up” She laughed at his words. 
“I’m sure you’ll get some soon” She clapped his arm. 
“Thanks. Do you want a drink?” 
“Sure, bring me cranberry vodka” Nico went to make you a drink. 
He handed you a glass and sipped his own beer. They’ve been talking about their careers and enjoyed the moment. Nico was a great and talkative guy. He was asking you questions but also wasn’t scared to talk about himself. After a couple of minutes, your conversation was interrupted.
“There you are. I’ve been searching for you” Sander came and kissed her cheek. “We haven’t met. I’m Sander - Lisa’ boyfriend” He pulled his hand towards Nico. He shook his hand. 
“I’m Nico, I was congratulating…” He couldn’t finish his sentence because Maya appeared. 
“What’s with the gathering here?” She joked. “Congrats Lisa on the win, Lottie was talking about it all the time” She went and hugged her. 
“Thanks Maya” She smiled at her. 
“Babe, Lottie asked if we could go and buy more alcohol” Maya turned her attention to Nico.
“Sure, let’s go. It was nice meeting you two” Nico said and grabbed his girlfriend’ hand. 
The couple left Lisa and Sander. You two decided to come back to the living room and party with the rest of the people but she couldn’t forget about Nico. He was a great guy and she truly wanted to know him better. Lisa realised that if he’s dating Maya, she definitely knows more about him. She left Sander telling him that she’s going to the bathroom. In fact, she searched for Lottie. When she found her, she took her out of the people.
“Nico, what do you know about Nico?” Lisa asked.
“What Nico?” Lottie looked confused.
“The one that’s dating Maya” 
“Why are you asking?” She crossed arms on her chest.
“I talked with him in the kitchen and he was really nice but before I could ask him more, Sander and Maya came and separated us” Lisa explained and Lottie took her phone from the pocket.
“That’s his Instagram, just follow him” She followed her friend’s advice and followed Nico. “I don’t know what you’re planning but don’t ruin Maya and Nico’ relationship” 
“Why would you even suggest that? I love Sander but I was intrigued by Nico and want to learn more about him” Lisa fought back.
“Okay… now let’s drink. I haven’t had a shot with you tonight, can you believe it?” Lottie laughed and pulled you to the kitchen. 
Lisa lost track of how many drinks she had. She wanted to celebrate as much as she could, knowing that during the season she won’t be attempting any parties to be ready and prepared for the games. She woke up with an insane hangover. The last thing she remembered was making out with Sander in the backyard. She grabbed her phone to see the hour and saw a notification from Instagram. 
nicohischier followed you back!
next chapter
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olivia091108 · 1 year ago
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Crimson
Summary:bam gets his heartagram tattoo done
Word count:1.8k
Pairing:bam margera x reader
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I have just finished checking out my last client and it has gone quicker than I thought so maybe today I’ll actually be able to go out and meet some of my friends.
I walk into the back room to say goodbye and grab my things when I heard Holly shout my name in a hurry, I turn around and face her 
“Everything alright”
“ I’ve just thrown up in the bathroom can you take my last customer I feel awful please”
After thinking it through, I can’t really say no if she feels ill, “ alright, hope you feel better”
“Thank you so much. I totally owe you one”
From behind me I hear ruby “girl she is so faking I heard her in the bathroom, talking to one of her friends and they’re gonna go to a club because apparently some famous dudes are there”
“ You’re kidding, at least I can still hang out with you though”
“About that I did overtime yesterday, so I get to finish early today. So here’s the keys lock up as soon as you’re done and maybe you’re still have time to meet your friends.”
“Do you mean I’m here all by myself? What if there’s some creepy dude, an-“
“You’ll be fine, and if anything goes wrong, just call me love you”
“Love you too I call out to her as she leaves the shop”
I walk back over to my station and get my stuff set up and putting on another layer of my crimson lipstick and putting in my earphones, trying to pass the time
BAMS POV
Who into the tattoo parlour not seeing anyone so I ring the bell on the front desk. nothing. I try again. Nothing. maybe they’re in the back. I wander off to the back of the shop and see a girl facing away from me. 
“Hello?”she doesn’t hear me so I tap her shoulder
YOUR POV
I feel someone grab my shoulder and without hesitating i scream so high I’m surprised the glass didn’t break and swung on whoever was behind me feeling my fist connect with a face.
 As if something in my brain switched on, I realised that he is probably my client who I have now just punched in the face and his Crimson blood is dripping from his nose.
“I’m so sorry”
With the hand that isn’t holding his nose he pulls out my earphones and I realise I must’ve shouted in his face s this time I say it much quieter “I’m so sorry”
“Nah your’e fine at least you threw a good punch.” He tries to joke but I feel even worse I grab him some tissues to clean up the blood on his face, and then I realise how handsome he is with his dark, brown, almost black hair, piercing blue eyes, and has a small mole on his face.
“Umm well I’m y/n I’m gonna be doing your tattoo so if you can take a seat.”
“I’m bam”
“Have you gotten any tattoos before bam?”
“Yh a few”
“What were you thinking of getting today”
“A heartagram right here” he points to right above his dick.
The thought of being that close to his dock not just anyone’s but a VERY handsome man’s dick makes me feel a bit shy and awkward.
“Cool super cool” he laughs a bit at my awkwardness “yeah I thought so too”
He lays back on the recliner chair and pulls his top up revealing his torsos and while I was staring eh started to unbuckle his belt and pull down his jeans more showing off his prominent v line.
I quickly snap out of it and draw out a stencil and double check that he likes it. I try to get in a position where I don’t have to lay sideways to do the tattoo but no luck
“Sorry can I just”I squeeze between bams legs and he manspreads more to give me some space so now my face is inline with his dick. Usually in the position I wouldn’t be giving tattoos and he knows that as well since he has a coy smile on his face.
As I’m getting ready to tattoo him I start to make conversation to distract him from the tattoo.
“You doing anything fun this weekend”
“ Yeah actually after this meeting up with a few of my friends at a club and have some drinks but I’m only visiting for the weekend so I’m probably gonna look round and shit” I feel a tinsy bit jealous but continue with the tattoo
“What about you?”he asks staring down at me probably getting a great view down my cleavage but I’m not complaining he’s one of the hotties men I’ve ever seen.
“Well, I was planning to do the same, but the girl who was originally supposed to tattoo you felt ill, so I had to cover for her. And tomorrow, I’m meeting up with my friend bill. I haven’t seen him in awhile because his girlfriend has gotten pregnant.”
I hear my phone pain, but I’m doing a detailed part of the tattoo so I asked them to read it out. It’s not like I’ll be anything weird since I’m undeniably single
“William says sorry I can’t make it tomorrow. Chloe wants us to look for cribs and stuff maybe another time” my face does drop a bit,but just ignore it and focus on the tattoo
“So I get why bill is short for William and Bob for Robert, but how do you get dick from Richard?”He asks sound like it’s been frustrating him for awhile. And without thinking I reply “you ask him nicely”
He breaks into a fit of laughter and I quickly move the tattoo gun off him so it doesn’t mess up. “Your funny y/n”
Can you bring your jeans down a bit lower please?”I say feeling all the blood rush to my face. He shuffles them down even more almost seeing the start of his dick
“Anywhere you think I should see while visiting?”
“There’s a  fair that seems quite good  or you can go to the pier with you’re Girlfriend it might be a bit busy but there’s loads of stuff to do down there”
“I don’t have a girlfriend”
“Oh sorry, I just thought since you’re so handsome that you would have a girlfriend I’m sorry”I whip my hand over my mouth not meaning to say that
“It’s fine it ain’t a big deal”he assured me “wanna know a fun fact” “yeah sure”
“My dick was in the world book of records” my face flushed probably the same colour as my lipstick “oh wow um nice”
“Yeah but then the librarian told me to take it out” he stares down at me, watching me laugh at his joke, and when I look up, I catch him staring down my cleavage, and now he’s the one to blush 
“So, where are you visiting from anyway?”
“West Chester, Pennsylvania”
Oh wow, I have a friend who lived on there. I visited her a couple times,and she tried to teach me to skate but I wasn’t very good but she said that there’s this really annoying famous man who lives down there and destroys things and plays his music so loud till like 5am. People like that are such jackass’
“Yeahh they definitely are”
“Your all done” he stands up to look in the body length mirror and stares at the tattoo. “That’s sick thanks how much do I owe”
“$160” he grabs a wad of cash all in 100s and gives me $200 and tells me to keep the change and leaves the shop
I check the time on my watch 10:34 too late. I start clearing my stuff away and making sure everything is switched off. I look in the mirror and see my lipstick has come off so I reapply before leaving the shop and locking it
I dont get too far until I hear my name being called and I hear bam calling my name. “Did you forget something”
“No I was just gonna see if you wanted to come out for a few drinks tonight.?”
“I really would but I’m so broke right now and I’m not really dressed for a club”
“You look great and it’s all on me” I look down at my outfit my denim skirt that some people would say is too short and my deep cut red top. It will do.
“Ok yeah that would be nice” we walk to the club and when we get there there’s a huge line and a billboard above saying JACKASS APPEARANCE this is probably where holly went too she lives jackass she’s always rambling
I walk to the bcak if the line to start queuing but bam takes my hand and we walk to the first of the line “bam what are you doing we can’t cut in” the bouncer just asks “who’s she?” “She’s with me” and just like that we’re in
“What the fuck hwo did you do that?
“I’m apart of jackass” as he says that I see all his friends come over
“Y/n this is Johnny, Steve o,wee man and Ryan”
“Hi it’s nice to meet you” we chat and have some drinks for a bit before they all separate and me and bam start doing shots and me being a lightweight I’m already drunk.
Over the speakers I hear hit in here by nelly playing. “Omg I love this song come dance with me” I didn’t really give him a choice as I dragged him to the dance floor and began to grind on him. Throughout the song we have been getting closer and closer so now our lips are almost touching.
I reach up and kiss him and pull away just as quick for a second I thought you read the signals wrong until bam pulls me back into the kiss and kisses me even harder and my arms wrap round his neck and I feel his arms snake round my waist. He bites onto my bottom lip which makes a moan slip out and he starts to kiss down my neck and soon enough finds my sweet spot and he nips at it and I already know that there will be a bright hickey tomorrow morning.
I move my head down and catch his lips into a kiss again but we disconnect when we feel a bright light on us and over the speakers we here johnnys voice “there he is he was too busy trying to get laid.”everyone laughs at that including me and in the bright light I can see that my lipstick is all over his face. I grab his hand and drag him out hearing whistles coming from behind.
“You might as well prove him right”
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-liv
This acc took so long but I feel like I could have done better
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isabelinlove · 2 months ago
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Merry Christmas, Dickhead
Pairing: Isabel x Roman (pre-relationship)
Word Count: 1k
Summary: Isabel and Roman have slightly different views on Christmas. Takes place during season 1 (the Christmas following the infamous 1.05 Thanksgiving).
Warnings: Mostly fluffy, but contains very brief canon-typical allusions to childhood trauma/abuse. Also contains typical Roman weirdness.
A/N: Tis the season… for a Romebel Christmas fic!! I actually wrote this one last year but it’s still one of my faves <3
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“If I have to hear Holly Jolly Christmas one more time, I’m going to fucking strangle myself,” Roman grumbles as he enters his office, hastily removing the scarf from around his neck and throwing it across the back of his chair.
“Good morning to you, too,” Isabel replies, not looking up from her computer. After a month and a half of working for him, she’s grown used to her boss’s erratic behavior.
“Seriously, I don’t know how anyone can fucking stomach that shit,” he continues.
“Christmas music?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know, I kind of like it.”
“You’re shitting me,” he replies, walking over and leaning up against her desk. “Why? It’s all Jesus and reindeer and touchy-feely bullshit and ‘you’d better be in the holiday spirit or Santa will personally shove a candy cane up your ass.’” He mimics the action with his hand, and Isabel rolls her eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be into that crap.”
“I know,” she replies. “But… it’s nostalgic. Reminds me of my childhood, I guess.”
“Yuck,” Roman says, making a face.
“I’m guessing you don’t feel the same?”
“Well, growing up, Roy family Christmases weren’t exactly holly and jolly,” he replies. She expects him to leave it at that, but he continues. “I mostly remember a lot of yelling, as a result of Mummy and Daddy’s rapidly deteriorating marriage. Then there was the time Kendall threw a snowball at me that was 90% ice and I had a black eye in all the family photos. Dad was livid about it. Probably because he didn’t want people to think he did it. But, hey, at least we had Mummy’s Christmas cookies! Which of course weren’t made with love, but purchased from the most expensive caterer in town. One time she scolded me for eating more than one and told me I was going to get fat.”
“Oh,” is all Isabel can manage in response. She’s always wondered why Roman is… well, the way he is, but never before has he divulged so much information about his less-than-happy childhood.
“Fuck you, don’t look at me like that,” he says, noticing the way her face falls. “I don’t want your pity.”
“Fine, asshole,” she replies, quickly pivoting. It’s much easier to dish Roman’s snarky attitude back to him than say something sincere. She knows it’s what he prefers, too. “I’m just surprised your spoiled ass doesn't have memories of getting every gift you ever could have wanted every single year.”
“Well, yeah, I have those, too,” he retorts, straightening himself up. “It’s just… the other stuff kind of stuck with me more.” He says it quietly, almost vulnerably, then returns to his own desk before Isabel can reply. She turns her attention back to her emails, trying very hard not to think about how bad she feels for her pathetic jerk of a boss.
**
The following Friday, Roman returns from a miserably boring board meeting to a quiet office. He checks the time — 5:17 — and realizes that Isabel must have already left. He’s given her two weeks off for Christmas, a hefty bonus, and — maybe against his better judgment — a Chanel bag, hoping that it’s enough to say ‘thank you’ for everything she’s done for him. He’s never been good with kind words.
Roman turns his attention to his own desk, and is surprised to find a present sitting on top. It’s rectangular and fairly small, neatly wrapped in shiny green paper and tied with a large red ribbon. At first, he assumes someone is making a merry attempt to either bribe or poison him, until he reads the note attached to the ribbon:
Merry Christmas, dickhead.
Love,
Your long-suffering assistant
PS: Eat as many as you want, I don’t care if you get fat (you won’t)
He grins and begins to unwrap it. Inside is a Tupperware container filled with Christmas cookies. Homemade Christmas cookies, he realizes, as he removes the lid. Two different kinds — peanut butter with chocolate Kisses in the center, and sugar cookies cut into various festive shapes. The icing on the sugar cookies is a little wonky, but that makes them all the more charming. Still smiling, he pulls out a snowman and takes a bite. It’s good — way better than anything he remembers from his childhood. A funny feeling washes over him as he realizes that this is the most thoughtful gift he’s received in years.
Christmas comes several days later, and, as expected, the Roy family dinner is anything but jolly. Connor is freaking out about the doneness of the roast, Shiv and Tom are having a domestic dispute in the living room, and Roman’s father is once again questioning him about his inability to keep a girlfriend. After making some half-assed excuse about wanting to focus on work, he sighs and downs his glass of Merlot, attempting to tune out the cacophony of unhappy voices around him. Just two more hours and he can get out of there.
Roman’s mind starts to wander, and soon he’s thinking back to the conversation he had with Isabel. He wonders what she’s doing right now, and hopes she’s having a better time than him. She probably is, if Christmas music makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside instead of nauseous. All of a sudden, his mind conjures up an image of her baking the cookies she gave him. She’s dressed in a bright red sweater, smiling sweetly and humming along to Holly Jolly Christmas as she mixes the dough, like something out of one of those shitty Hallmark movies. It’s absolutely fucking ridiculous, and never in a million years would he admit that he’s having such domestic fantasies about her. But as the dinner drags on and his family’s arguing becomes more heated, his thoughts keep drifting back to it. It’s a wholesome contrast to the shit show unfolding around him at the moment. And maybe, just maybe, it makes him feel a little warm and fuzzy inside.
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Tagging @tomfoolies
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hyukascampfire · 2 months ago
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hello ashlynn, it’s 🌰! there is so much i want to talk about with you but this message won’t comprise of everything. i also got caught up in the whirlwind of holiday celebrations so it’s totally understandable if some of your blurbs for the event get postponed ヽ(*´∀`) you deserve to rest and enjoy yourself, given how hard you work for us! your dedication to writing is seriously so inspiring— i know you never do anything half-assed so thanks for always returning the same energy ♡ your favourite scene in the trilogy AAAAA i can’t believe i didn’t notice the parallels ( ; ; ) that was a great observation on your part. and YES, i have read cardan’s letters to jude in exile… what to say, i love a man who takes penmanship seriously. i definitely agree with what you said about how well holly black did the enemies-to-lovers trope— i hate current marketing strategies that throw this concept around when the vast majority of the ships concerned are just rivals-to-lovers or two people who can’t stand e/o’s ass. or lovers-to-enemies, which is absolutely not interchangeable with enemies-to-lovers.
i’m done reading how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories and what a sweet resolution that was, to jude and cardan’s story. the fairy tale vibes were immaculate. and the illustrations OMG. interesting how malleable aslog’s tale was and how cardan gained the courage to rewrite it after everything went awry and he had no choice but to face the imminence of the prophecy he dreaded his entire life. love me a good ol’ “to be loved is to be changed” moment. oh and, i haven’t told you this enough but i also miss tsfawc bunches and i’m glad you share the sentiment. the people of hyukascampire-ville wouldn’t forget its roots‼️
since the end-of-year is all about distributing awards, should i reveal my top 3 from your holiday event once all 12 are out? (there will be special mentions as well though, i obviously can’t pick just 3 > < ) you may present your guesses if you’d like ☆
keep warm and take frequent breaks! eat lots of good food! love u 🌰♡
HIII CHESTNUTTT! i’m finally able to answer! idk if i ate smth new on christmas or smth, but i had an allergic reaction that has been plaguing me 😭 i’ve been knocked out for a good amount of the past few days. i’m doing better now though, and am very excited to yap w u >.< you always make my day.
YES!! when he said that to her, omg. chills. their relationship is so very complex. i don’t even know how to feel about madoc, and so i’m sure it’s even more complicated for jude. it’s also interesting to see each of the sisters’ relationships with him as well—jude’s being the most complicated, as she takes the most after him and the world he is a part of, and vivi’s being the most strained despite her being his only true daughter, and then how delicately he treats taryn. and then, oriana? holly definitely could’ve gone with the simple ‘evil step mother’ route for her, and it seemed that she did for most of it, but she is much more complex than that. i love how holly does twists on common tropes,, it makes a lot of sense considering that it’s set in a world that’s supposed to be in so much contrast with the human world.
i love his letters 😭😭 come be angry at a nearer distance? LMAOOO cardan PLEASE
also i agree like a thousand percent. most enemies to lovers has devolved into just two very sexy people that think each other are sexy, and the ‘hate’ they have for each other is more like banter with thinly veiled sexual tension. it’s not so fulfilling as enemies to lovers can and should be!
how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories was literally like opening a fairytale book. it was so fun, and getting backstory in cardan helped me sympathize with him a bit more. (FUCK U LADY ASHA!! me n my homies hate lady asha.)
tsfawc being hyukacampfireville’s roots 😭 that’s home base. we’re all missing jt so bad :,) BUT WE ARE BACK GUYS!! we are back! part six here we come!
UM YES? i woukd love that ?! my personal thoughts are that you liked at swan lake, it will come back and… hmmm…. velvet fuzz? I NEED TO KNOW.
love you bunches, always!! i’m literally opening my ipad to plot tsfawc so i really do mean that she’s coming soon. :3!!
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liebgirl · 1 year ago
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ok so. there’s cassel. our protagonist, we love him and his richard papen swag (i don’t actually know if he’s really all that much like richard i’m just saying things) he’s a former teen assassin who wasn’t aware he was an assassin because his brother made him forget with memory magic. and he’s not Really an assassin because he killed all those people via turning them into objects. such as a chair. because he does transformation magic (he’s the only transformation worker in the world that we know of yet, because it’s the rarest type of magic in this universe) ok so that’s cassel. he’s also a teen con artist and runs an underground gambling ring but whatever. and then there’s lila, the mob boss’ daughter, the white cat, our girl who kind of sucks really bad but was recently cursed to be desperately in love with cassel (by his mother. who is insane) so she kind of acts weird in this book. due to the curse. and then there’s sam, cassel’s roommate and best friend, he’s cool you guys would like him. he’s a horror movie fan who lovessss practical effects, which was plot relevant when he was helping cassel fake dying last book. and then there’s daneca, sam’s girlfriend and also cassel’s friend, and we JUST found out she’s a worker too (emotion, same as cassel’s mother). stop me if i’m not making sense i would literally loveeeee to explain more. anyway so daneca is like. that girl who’s really into politics as a teenager, think christa american vandal and that’s her vibe. ok and then there’s barron, cassel’s older brother (barron’s the middle child) who took his memories from the assassinations. he’s also the one who kept cat lila in a cage. he has severe amnesia from all the karma from the memory magic and cassel doctored his memories to make him a better person. he lowkey works for the mobsters but not to the extent the oldest brother did. which brings me to philip, the oldest brother, he was best friends with the mob boss’ nephew (lila’s cousin) and they were planning to use cassel to kill him and take over it was a whole thing. again we cannot possibly care if i say spoilers for this. no one has ever read a holly black book at my recommendation be serious. i’ll believe that when i see it. anyway so philip was kind of the leader of cassel’s secret teen assassin career and after cassel got him back at the end of book one he started ratting people out to the fbi and then got murdered for it (his murder is the mystery book two centers around). and then crucially. maybe. there’s philip’s wife who left him, maura, and ok she’s MAYBE crucial later. i don’t remember these books but i think she’s big. she maybe killed him. unclear. i’ll let you know. anyway so that’s the rundown of the big characters i know everyone was soooo interested 😁
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clawsextended · 8 days ago
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“that you had serious business to take care of. and that you were gone because you had to make sure everything was good. for her, for everybody. you think i’m that selfish?”
her voice is heavy, but it can’t be sharp. she can’t possibly manage to be hard when she’s so tired of being hard. there’s only so much stone she can be.
it barely bothers her, but it tweaks a nerve. a tiny one. it brings into question the subject of her parenting, a thing one doesn’t question with the cat. what did she tell holly…? simple. she told holly what would upset her least. she told holly a truth, and she sticks by that.
where did bryce go…? to keep them safe. how she feels about it is irrelevant to that conversation. because she’s holly’s mother. how she feels takes a backseat to her kid’s feelings. (“but where do you make space for yourself?” “i’m a mom. i don’t.”) if holly needs to know how much she matters, that’s the thing selina will give her. she won’t shield her from bryce’s flaws, won’t allow that unrealistic view to take hold, but she will do everything in her power to remind that precious little girl how adored she is.
selina knows bryce better. it’s abandonment, but it’s not abandonment. nothing is easy with them — it can’t be. their lives are chaotic wreckages on the best days, and often selina’s just diving for whatever pearls she can dig up in the depths of the world’s impossibly black sand.
she could swear pressure was supposed to turn it into glass or something, but everything about her mind is still and granular and fine and impossible to sift through. if asked to describe it she would say it was an obsidian beach with every inch submerged in murky water, a color lacking color that she cannot describe. everything is ugly, divided, complicated. she’s quieter these days than she used to be, and it’s largely because she’s running incredibly low on stamina. she’s exhausted. and who wouldn’t be…?
she misses bryce. (she wonders constantly if she matters at all, thinks she truly mustn’t. in the end, she thinks she lies somewhere between important and invisible, oscillating constantly and almost no fault of bryce’s own. mercurial. selina can seldom control her moods.) she’s upset. (and seconds later she barely cares. another issue, exhausting, fucking exhausting. she overthinks about the minute her mood will swing the opposite way.) she wants to cry, tell bryce every single thing that’s hurt her, beg to be held about it. (she wants to bite her until she bleeds because her joints hurt and her fingers ache and her throat burn.) she’s extremely tired of crying. (and not crying. it always happens this way and that — she cries when she doesn’t want to, can’t so much as sniffle when she wishes it would overcome that grey, blanketing static that’s all she knows.)
“holly knows how to break in. i taught her that when we were kids. she was mortified that she forgot it. i wasn’t about to make her feel worse about a textbook.”
holly’s incredibly easily emotional — she’s never angry, she’s furious, never happy, ecstatic, and never upset, devastated. she’s not about to punish her for something she knows holly is already punishing herself for, and coming here is selina’s decision. holly hadn’t asked. her heels click only for the bat’s benefit to hear when she lands, extending a claw to neatly click the hinge out of place. it comes away and the door hangs off, easily replaced when the cat chooses to. she clicks a couple buttons on the side of her lenses and they easily tumble back into dark, messy hair, crown her head in kitty ears. the alarms neutralize easily.
“the cameras are looping. i’ve got it covered. holly has a quiz in the morning. and she can’t remember anything unless she reads it, like, two hours before.”
and when can selina say no to the bat….?
when can selina say no to bryce…?
she can’t. and she knows better than to try. why cause the anguish? it’s hard to get through that fucking cowl what the problem is — that she’s an equal. that she can handle just as much as the bat can.
she doesn’t get it, and selina gets it. a terror leaning toward losing the last tethers in her life, it must be terrifying to bryce. she’s different (when she’d thought the bat was dead, when bane— she doesn’t think about it), less afraid. she doesn’t know what it’s like to lose someone. and she knows that.
the same way bryce can never understand selina’s suffering, selina can’t understand hers. and she knows that. she knows she can’t ever understand the way grief closes around her throat — your feeler was never calibrated. it was broken before it could activate because someone jammed it. but you try. dr. bloom is too good at what she does.
but she’s busy. she has things to do. a daughter to get a textbook to so she can read it in the morning before her quiz. and then a voice pops in from her goggles, robotic and feminine.
commlink requested from bat 🖤
“accept commlink, closed channel, engage with heavy encryption.”
it’s surreal to hear that voice again. it slams her in the face so hard she finds herself rerouting the way she’s going, tumbling into a somersault to catch her footing before catching a distant weathervane across the way and dropping into a fearless freefall. the force of her arm propels her easily and she races across the upper side of an office building with unfailing footfalls. her mistake becomes only a foible that can disappear in the arc of her next jump.
“holly left her textbook in her locker so i gotta break in and swipe it. i wasn’t in the mood to take the streets.”
it’s rare when selina doesn’t want to engage — her usual bread and butter is socialization, but sometimes her moods mercurial turn toward an isolation. bryce anchors her in a way that keeps her held steady, keeps her from floating away — from a rocketship blasting off after it’s been simmering in a slow flame. she doesn’t have something to keep her from fluctuating between bursting and dangerous or flat and dulcet. she receives some light middle ground to cross. bryce is often that safety.
and without that safety she’s — empty. she’s a mirror with nothing to reflect. i don’t touch anybody and nobody touches me and that’s just fine. she’d told the good doctor, who only quirked an eyebrow as if to assert how much she didn’t believe that. you miss her. no shit. really affirming that doctorate, doc. it had been antagonistic, the last letter crackling in her mouth, and alana hadn’t moved a muscle in spite of feeling very much like any moment her jugular was about to become fair game. that was one of the first times in many she’d realized she respected dr. bloom more than she does most people.
“second floor entry point, balcony door’s got an easy hinge and i’ll jam the security before the alarm can go off. holly’s locker’s 801.”
she clicks in and out of comms without batting an eyelash.
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taestefully-in-luv · 4 years ago
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Always You | JJK (Seven)
Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?
Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader
Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama
Word Count: 10.1k
Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mention of erection, heated make out, marking, grinding, mentions of suicide:( (If this makes you uncomfortable pls skip), mentions of cheating, quick blowjob, swallowing,
Notes: sorry this chapter is shorter than the last! But we only have 2 chapters left guys! And they are long!!! Sorry in advance lol. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter:) Anyway feel free to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:)
Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell
© taestefully-in-luv
Previous
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jungkook runs his finger through your hair, his mouth hot on your neck as he leaves behind what feels like a million, slow kisses. You taste sweet and he’s reminded of the first time he got to do this with you and his heart swells at the memory. He feels you grind against him, making him impossibly harder as he grinds back. Your moans fill his ears and it sounds like a chorus of sweet, sweet music to him, he can’t help but grin into his kisses. Suddenly, the image of him kissing down your throat becomes blurry and the sound of your whines echo in the distance. He must be waking up.
Jungkook feels you hovering over him with shocked eyes and he can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into you. He can feel his head beginning to throb from the inevitable hang over that wishes to visit and he raises a hand over it. You continue to look down at him and that’s when he notices it. Them. The hickeys that spread across your skin and he goes absolutely pale.
He looks back at you with wide eyes but he can’t help but feel pride bloom all throughout his body as he looks at how he has marked you but those petals quickly shrivel up when he realizes how badly he must have messed up.
“Oh fuck.” He says under his breath.
“Yeah. ‘Oh fuck’” you repeat back.
Jungkook lifts himself up, leaning on his arms as he takes another look at the bruises that cover your skin. He releases a shaky breath contemplating what to say.
“Drunk.” His eyes slide to the side, “We were really…drunk.”
You narrow your eyes for a split second then look at him with ease,
“Yeah…right…drunk.” You quickly agree.
Jungkook and you share a moment of a silence, admiring one another’s work on the other. You hesitantly reach out, your fingers coming in contact with the side of his neck, brushing against his soft skin.
“This ones huge…I’m sorry.” You say, not sounding entirely sorry. A slight smirk graces your features.
“Ha, you don’t look very sorry.” Jungkook grabs a hold of your hand, “Plus, you don’t even want to see what I did to you.”
You retreat your hand back to touch your own skin, you shuffle out of the sheets and stand from the bed. You walk towards the little mirror over by Jungkook’s closet and take a look.
You audibly gasp, the purple marks that spread across your neck and collarbone are ones for the books.
“What the hell Jeon! How am I supposed to walk out of here today! Everyone’s going to see this!” you gesture towards yourself. “Oh my god.” You turn back to look in the mirror. “This is horrible.”
Jungkook leaves the bed to join you at the mirror,
“Holy shit.” He looks at himself, “I’m not any better!” he throws his hands up but he’s laughing. He’s fucking laughing! You watch in disbelief as he chuckles the fucking day away.
You watch him and you can’t help but start to laugh too. This is just so ridiculous.
“Wait wait…” Jungkook calms down, suddenly becoming serious. “We didn’t do anything else…right?”
“Why are you looking at me like that? Shouldn’t you also remember?”
“You’re the girl! Can’t you like tell…if we…” He motions his hands between your bodies.
“Oh my god. No, we didn’t do anything else. Do you really not remember everything?” you ask with a frown.
“I feel like I do…but I was just being you know, sure.”
Jungkook wishes he could remember everything in great detail but the reality is he was really drunk and some moments are hazier than others. Which is a fucking shame because he wants to remember the first moment you caressed his skin to his lips on yours.
“Do you remember everything?”
“I remember enough.” You admit.
You were drunk, yes. But the memory of you and Jungkook is almost crystal clear and fresh in your mind.
“Bottom line is…we were really drunk and drunk people do stuff like that all the time.” Your hands go to your hips, “I mean, I’ve literally made out with Trina before. Don’t feel special.” You wink, your tone is light and teasing and Jungkook finds you amusing.
“Just two drunk idiots.” Jungkook grins. “So no acting weird.”
“I won’t be weird, will you?”
“I’ll try my best.” He chuckles.
“I’m serious Jungkook, we can be cool about this…” you give him a smile, “It’s not like we haven’t—”
“Stop…” Jungkook lifts his hand up, “I get it.” He chuckles awkwardly.
Your small smile fades, your heart pinches. He never wants to talk about it, did he hate it that much?
“Right…” You begin walking closer towards him and he steps back, your heart pinching once again. “Well, lend me a fucking turtle neck or something so I can get outta here.”
Jungkook smirks down at you as he walks to his closet.
“Fine. Hopefully I have two…I have a black and a white one right?” he asks you from inside his closet.
“Shit, I think I have your white one at my place…”
“I don’t think Nick owns any…”
“Why do you need one? Just stay home today.”
“I’m supposed to meet Vanessa later…”
Your heart doesn’t just pinch this time, it sinks. Deep down into your lower belly until its falling to the ground.
“Oh.”
“I’ll find a scarf or some shit.”
“I’ll bring you your white one, don’t worry.”
“Really? Thanks y/n.” Jungkook walks out of his closet smiling at you, his black turtle neck draped over his arm. “Here.” He hands it over to you.
“Turn around.”
Jungkook raises a brow at you until realization hits him.
“Okay.” He whispers out.
You quickly change into the long sleeve shirt and let Jungkook know he can turn back around.
“I feel like I should make you breakfast or something…” Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, standing here awkwardly.
“Really Jungkook?” you laugh out, “And what would you make me?”
“I think Nick has some toaster waffles.” Jungkook offers with a grin.
“I’m good. I’m gonna head out but I will be back with your shirt!”
“Sounds good, I’ll walk you out.”
You two nod at one another, exiting the bedroom and walking towards the front door. You stop to say goodbye and Jungkook steps into your space, wrapping his arms around you.
“See you in a bit.” He whispers.
“Yeah.” You pull back and smile at him. “See you in a bit.”
~~~~~
“Why the fuck are you wearing a black turtle neck in the middle of August?”
It’s Trina, if you haven’t guessed. It’s the first thing you hear when you step into your apartment, she is over to hang with Holly you’re assuming.
“I was a bit chilly.” You lie through your teeth, giving her a strained smile.
“Take it off.” Trina commands.
“Trina…” Holly warns softly, she’s got her hand on Trina’s shoulder and you can’t help but giggle.
“Wait, your date was last night, right? With this ‘Min Yoongi’? Ooooh, did things go well?” Trina whistles out.
“It wasn’t a date, I already told you…” you whine as you walk into the living room, sitting on the sofa.
“But it did go well! I had a really nice time.” You admit softly, smiling at the memory of your ‘thank you outing’. “He’s so cool and so sweet.” Your eyes light up, “He owns the record shop a few shops away from the bakery!”
“Owns it? Like it’s his?” Holly asks, she shares a pleased smile with Trina.
“Yes, like it’s his.”
“He sounds like a man. Marry him.” Trina gives you an aggresive thumbs up.
“Chill dude.” You laugh. “I think he and I could become really good friends…and…”
“And?”
“Well, you never know.” Your eyes shift to the side as you smirk. “The world is full of mystery.”
Trina smiles brightly, “So you’re saying there’s a chance?”
“I’m saying that there’s not not a chance…”
“I’LL TAKE IT!” Trina lifts up Holly’s hand and high fives herself with it. “Whatever isn’t Jungkook.” She finishes with a grin and you feel your whole body go stiff.
“Trina…” you frown, “I really don’t like when you say stuff like that. Jungkook is a good person. He just…he messed up, yes. But he’s trying.”
“He hurt you.” Trina’s tone goes serious. “How could you forgive him for that?”
“I’m trying too. But I am able to try because I know him…he wouldn’t just hurt me without him having his own reasons…and I love him, T. Like as friends, of course but also…”
“I know.” Trina goes soft, “I know.”
Holly clasps her hands together, “And that’s that! How about we make some food and chit chat some more over some mimosas!”
“I love that idea.” You say.
“But seriously girl, please go change out of that turtle neck…you’re making me sweat just looking at you.” Trina says.
Right, the turtle neck. You told Jungkook you would drop off his white one…well, you gotta find it first.
“Okay, but I have to run an errand first then we can hang.”
“An errand?” Both girls look at you quizzically.
“Don’t worry about it.” Great, now you sound like Jungkook.
~~~~~
Within the hour you are quickly dropping off Jungkook’s shirt off at his place and going back to yours. He answered the door in nothing but his towel again and you tried so hard not to drool. You recall the night before when your fingers were dragging down his chest and his toned stomach. You felt every ab beneath your fingertips. Fuck, that felt good. You’re home now, you shake your head trying to rid yourself of thoughts of Jungkook’s body. But with a body like that? It’s so so hard. Just like how he was…STOP. You shake off these thoughts and try to pay attention to what Holly is saying.
“—And then I turned it in anyway and still got an A!”
“That’s amazing Holly.” You say, trying to act like you weren’t just having impure thoughts.
“Yeah, you totally kick ass.” Trina says.
You girls are a few mimosas in, you feel the champagne starting to work its wonderful magic on you but unfortunately it is making you start to sweat. You want to take off this damn turtleneck.
“I’ll be right back.” You say quickly before retreating to your bedroom. You find a baggy t-shirt and slip it on. This feels much better! But god damn. These marks on your skin are something else. You rush to the bathroom and try to cover some with makeup but it’s hardly helping. Fuck.
“Welp, maybe they won’t notice.” You whisper to yourself.
You walk back out into the living room and you notice both Holly and Trina’s eyes go comically wide.
“Wow, that date did go better than you thought!” Trina starts whooping and hollering.
“Wow y/n.” Holly really does look shocked.
Okay, so maybe they did notice. You feel so self conscious all of the sudden, your hands flying up to your neck to cover yourself.
“It’s—It’s not what it looks like.” You stammer out.
“It looks like this Yoongi guy is really into marking!” Trina yells out with a grin.
“Yoongi is really into marking…” Holly eyes you with horror in her eyes.
“Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi!” Trina begins chanting, she looks over at Holly and lightly taps her thigh to get her to start chanting the name as well.
“Guys…” You whine into your hands, “It wasn’t Yoongi.” You must be admitting that because you’ve had a few mimosas.
Silence. The room falls undeniably quiet.
“Wait what?” Trina asks, her wide grin beginning to fade.
“Did you meet with someone else last night?” Holly begins to pry.
“Did you go to a bar or something and meet a rando?”
“Did you bump into someone on the street?”
“Did you call up and old boyfriend? An old hookup?”
“Guys!” You yell out, “I met up with Jungkook last night!”
Once again, the room goes silent.
“You what?” Trina asks plainly, “What does that have to do with the hickeys on your neck?”
“Really Trina?” your head falls into your hands, “We kind of…”
“You guys fucked? Really?” Trina’s serious tone is back.
“No! We just got really drunk and made out! That’s it!”
“But is that really it for you?” To your surprise, it’s Holly who asks this.
“It’s fine. We were just drunk. We decided not to be weird about it. And we won’t.”
“How can you be sure of that?” Trina asks, her voice gone soft.
“Because I will text him in a few days, he’s going to text back. Or I’ll call and he will answer like normal. I’ll ask to hang out or something and we will just be two friends who hang. It will go just like that!”
Except it doesn’t go like that at all. A few days pass and you decided to text Jungkook in the morning after you woke up. You don’t expect to hear back from him for a couple of hours since he will probably sleep in. But hours and hours go by and it’s the afternoon now and you still haven’t heard from him.
“You have reached the voicemail box of…” You click the end button on your phone again for like, the 6thtime. Why isn’t Jungkook answering? It’s a Wednesday afternoon, you know you remember him saying he had today off for some reason so what is he up to? Even if he was with Vanessa, would he really ignore you like this? 6 calls in a row?
You decide to try Jimin, maybe they’re together. You look him up in your ‘Favorites’ and click clack away to calling him. After several rings the boy finally answers,
“Hey.” He says somewhat out of breath, “I’m working, what’s up?”
“Hey it’s nothing really…” you begin, “But have you heard from Jungkook…? I can’t get a hold of him…”
“Huh? No? Maybe he’s just, I don’t know, busy babe.” You can hear Jimin directing some poor child of his wrong moves on the other side of the phone.
“Look, I gotta go. But just try again in a little while, okay?”
“Can you try calling him for me?”
“Huh? Uh, sure. I’ll let you know later. Love you, bye.” Jimin hangs up and you’re left with your phone to your ear, talking to no one.
It’s Wednesday evening now, you and Holly are sharing a pie while watching some weird show on Netflix that Holly insists is good. You’re three episodes in and you’re starting to wonder when the ‘good’ part happens. It’s mostly just been weird but Holly seems invested in it. You’re trying to keep your mind busy, the thought of Jungkook making you feel antsy. You just wanted to call and see if he wanted to chill together…to prove things aren’t going to be weird between you two. Is he really going to be so fucking immature? Big deal, you made out. But to go this far to ignore you? You can’t help but feel so fucking anxious. He won’t ghost you again right?
You mindlessly stick your fork in the pie repeatedly when you feel your phone buzz. Thank God, some sort of reason to look away from this show, you think.
Jimin 6:22pm
Hey, I got a hold of Jungkook…
What the hell? So he answered to Jimin?!
Jimin 6:22pm
It’s probably best to let him be today babe, today is…not a good day
You click off your phone and throw it on the cushion to your side because what the hell does that mean? Not a good day? If he’s not having a good day then shouldn’t he like, lean on you? Wait, you’re asking for too much right? You mean, you’re the one who set boundaries. But if he’s having a bad day why ignore you? You throw the fork in the pie and set it next to Holly, she looks at you mortified that you would just throw your fucking fork. You stand to your feet and start heading to your room.
“Uh, where are you going? Things are just getting good.” Holly whines.
“I’ll be back in a little while Hol, just gotta do something real quick.” You call out from behind you, entering your room to change into some clean clothes.
Once you’re ready you grab your purse and your keys and head towards the front door, and out to your car.
It’s a really quick drive to Jungkook’s apartment, he lives so close to you it’s ridiculous. He couldn’t find an apartment that was further away from his old one? Well, still…you’re grateful it’s a short drive. You wonder how you’ll confront Jungkook. He isn’t the best at opening up so you have to go about this strategically. But knowing you, you’ll be anything but strategic. It’s just with Jungkook you really have to force it out of him—whatever it is. Even then you may get nothing.
You find a parking spot a little a ways from the building, it’s a nice refreshing two minute walk to get inside to find and ride the elevator. You remember riding this elevator with nick and oh god, cringe. You cringe so fucking hard. Speak of the devil, he’s who answers the front door after your insistent knocking.
“Oh hey y/n. What’s up?” Nick’s eyes dart from you to the rest of the hallway. “Is it just you?” he asks, “Jungkook isn’t here…”
“Can I wait inside until he gets home?” you blurt out.
“Uh, sure…” Nick opens the door wider for you to enter. You breeze past him, taking off your shoes at the entrance and make your way to the couch. Damn, you are a woman on a mission.
“Can I get you some water?” Nick offers as he closes the door.
“Sure.”
Nick comes into the living room with a glass full of water and you couldn’t be more grateful. You didn’t even realize how dry your mouth has gotten, the anticipation of Jungkook’s arrival making you nervous.
“Do you know where he went?” you take the glass from Nick and gulp down like half the glass. “He hasn’t answered me all day.”
“Wait, he doesn’t know you’re here?” Nick asks in panicked surprise. “Should you really be here? He might be with Vanessa or like, coming back with her…”
“It’s fine. I’m waiting, is that okay?” you nibble on your lips, waiting for his response.
“Yeah, I guess.” Nick shrugs, “I’ll be in my room if that’s okay? You can watch whatever on TV or like, whatever.” He smiles at you, gesturing towards the TV.
“I’ll be fine Nick.” You smile back.
More than an hour passes, a god damn miserable hour of you sitting on Jungkook and Nicks couch when you finally hear the front door being unlocked. Jungkook.
You straighten up when you hear the door beginning to open, the soft creak sounding a million times louder in your ears.
Jungkook walks through and you notice he is alone, and you sigh in relief. His shoulders are slumped and his head hangs low as he takes his shoes off and you immediately sink in your spot. What’s with him? So, you stand to your feet and clear your throat and he doesn’t even flinch. He just continues walking inside, finding his way into the kitchen. You watch as he opens up a cabinet and reaches for a glass, next he’s fishing the fridge for some fresh water and filling up his cup. He takes a few sips of his water before his dark eyes find you.
“What are you doing here?” his low voice sends a shiver down your spine.
“You went ghost on me today…I was worried.” You leave the living room to walk into the kitchen as well.
“I…” he begins as he sets the glass on the counter. “I didn’t ghost you.”
“How could I be so sure?” you step closer to him, “How come you answered Jimin but not me?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen at your words, like a deer caught in headlights. He blinks at you repeatedly until he tries forming words.
“It’s nothing personal.” He settles for. “Can we talk tomorrow, y/n?”
“Where did you go today?” God, why do you sound like some weird, possessive girlfriend? You cringe at your own words.
“It doesn’t matter.” Jungkook’s eyes darken again, his voice low.
“It matters to me.”
Jungkook looks down at the floor and you notice him take a few deep breaths, like he is struggling to find a steady one.
“Talk to me, Jungkook.” You reach out to him, your fingers finding his and he flinches at your touch. “What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”
“I….” Jungkook’s voice cracks and you wish you could bring him in to hug you but you don’t. You just let him continue.
“I…have nothing to say.”
Oh. Of course. Of fucking course. Of course Jungkook chooses to stay silent. Of course he chooses not to talk to you.
“Is it Vanessa?” you finally find the courage to ask, “Did you two break—”
“No, we’re fine.” He cuts in. Jungkook frees himself from your hand and looks up at you with a strained smile, “I’m fine, y/n.”
Now, you shouldn’t feel upset. Or angry. But you do, you fucking do. It’s been almost 4 years of this same bullshit where he cannot open up to you and its starting to feel insulting.
“You’re…” you step closer to him again but he takes a step back until he’s backed into the counter. “You aren’t fine. Please talk to me, Jungkook.” You try to say calmly but you think the rage is a little evident in your voice.
“Nothing to talk about.”
“Is it because I’m a girl?”
Jungkook tilts his head to the side, not knowing what you mean by that. Yeah, that was a stupid thing to assume but you aren’t smart right now.
“You can’t confide in girls because you have trust issues? You know, because of your mom…how she left you…”
“Stop.”
“That’s it right?” You volume increases as your anger shows, “Are you fucking serious? When have I ever made you feel like you couldn’t trust me? When have I ever fucking left you?”
“Shut up.”
“No! And yeah your mom left you so you like, don’t trust girls I guess but god damn, Jungkook maybe it’s time to get over—”
“I said shut up!” Jungkook’s voice rises to a volume you have never experienced with him before.
“Have you tried looking for her?” you continue to speak, not realizing you are making everything worse.
“I know where she is.” He states, his nostrils flaring.
You flail your arms around, “Then go fucking talk to her.”
Jungkook looks at you with an unreadable expression, his shoulders to his ears and his fists balled up at his sides. He’s quiet. Too quiet. His breaths are beyond shaky and you finally notice it.
Jungkook’s eyes are glossed over and you think you may have gone too far. His lip begins trembling and he tries to speak but no words come out. He struggles to speak to you and it makes you blink at him like an idiot. Why can’t he speak?
“Jung—”
Jungkook lifts a hand up to stop you from talking any further. He inhales sharp breaths and releases shaky ones. His eyes are full of tears but none fall. He stares down at the ground just trying to do something as easy as breathing, but he falls short.
“Jung—”
“Please.” He croaks out. Jungkook walks to the couch and sits down, his head falling into his hands and you aren’t entirely sure at first but after a few moments you really realize…he is softly and quietly crying. Your Jungkook who never cries in front of anyone is sitting on his living room couch crying. You’re speechless. You also don’t know what to do. Do you try to comfort him? Do you leave him alone? But how could you leave him alone when he sits on his fucking living room couch sniffling away?
You hesitantly walk towards the sofa and take a seat next to him. He doesn’t lift his head to look at you, just continues crying into his hands. You don’t have to think about it, you reach your hand to rub soothing circles on his back and start whispering words of comfort in his ear.
Several moments pass when Jungkook finally lifts his head from his hands, but he still doesn’t look at you.
“Mom…” he clears his throat. “Mom didn’t just leave us. She left everything. She left me.”
“I know Jungkook…I’m sorry… I just lashed out on you, you can heal at your own pace and if she wants to see you again, she will.” You continue to rub his back.
“No, you don’t get it.” Jungkook murmurs. “Mom was hurting a lot. You know?” he begins to get choked up, his throat burning.
“Dad cheated, yes. But he was also neglectful of her and she was in a lot of pain,” he sniffs repeatedly, wiping his nose on his sleeve.
“She felt like she had no one, not even me.” Jungkook face scrunches up as he resists more tears.
“She couldn’t even rely on me.”
Fuck. You know where this is going. It is all starting to make sense.
“Mom killed herself when I was 16.” Jungkook finally says, his voice barely above a whisper, like he was too afraid to say it out loud. Like it made it more real.
“Dad didn’t take it well…he started drinking and I rarely saw him around…I had to take care of myself.” Jungkook finally lets the tears fall.
“I hated him. I still do.” Jungkook clenches his jaw.
You sit on the couch unable to comprehend what Jungkook has gone through. You feel like the biggest bitch alive. You forced your best friend to reopen his wounds in front of you and you had the audacity to pour salt in them.
“Jungkook I’m so—”
“Forget it.” He’s quick to cut you off. You stare at him with wide eyes, your own tears staining your cheeks.
“Please leave me alone for a while.” He whispers and immediately you stop him from rising from the couch.
“No!” you pull him back down. He doesn’t even resist, he falls back to your side and you lead his head to rest on your beating chest.
“I’m here for you, Jungkook.”
And that’s it. That’s what it took for Jungkook to scrunch and twist his face until more tears begin flowing out of his swollen eyes. He cries into your shirt, wetting the material.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You pat his head, your fingers weaving through his dark locks.
Jungkook cries like this for several minutes, until he’s wiping away his tears and snot with his shirt sleeve. He rises from your chest and looks at you with a painful expression.
“Today is mom’s birthday.” He admits.
Fuck.
“I went to her grave today…” he sniffles, “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before. It’s just…” he starts crying again, “Saying it out loud. Makes it real, don’t you think?” His face is swollen and puffy from his tears and you can’t stop your own tears from sliding down your cheeks.
“Jungkook, I’m so, so sorry.” You feel awful. You can’t even fathom what he has gone through…
“It’s okay, this was bound to happen eventually right?” he laughs awkwardly, snot still dripping from his nose.
“I shouldn’t have forced it out of you…God, I am so sorry.”
“I…” Jungkook’s eyes refill with tears as he tries to speak again, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I really am. I tried so many times but I just couldn’t say it out loud. I just couldn’t.” The tears fall down his face once again, “I tried.” He begins to cry harder. “I really tried y/n.”
You heart breaks. This is a sight you never want to see again but if anyone has to see it you want it to be you.
“Baby…” you whisper. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
“You’d never leave me…right?” Jungkook chokes on his words as he speaks. “I couldn’t handle it.”
You shut your eyes as you think about what Jungkook has gone through. You think about why he’s been so closed off and why he has troubles with people sometimes—especially girls.
“I wouldn’t ever leave you.” You say in promise. “You’re too important to me.”
Jungkook’s face falls back into your chest, he cries into your shirt for several more minutes as you rub his back and play with his hair.
“Wasn’t I important to mom too?” You hear him whisper.
Your heart breaks even more.
“Of course you were, Jungkook.” You try to save, “I know she must have loved you a lot.”
“Then why?”
“She must of thought you were going to be strong enough without her…” Your fingers thread through his hair again, “And you are. But you know, you aren’t completely without her…” Your hand goes to his chest, over his beating heart.
“She’s here too, with you.”
And with that, Jungkook sobs harder. Like, it’s the first time he’s cried over this. And you wonder if it is. He’s gripping on to your shirt so tightly as he releases intense sob after the other. Your heart continues to fucking break.
“I’m here. I’m here.”
It’s been quiet the last 30 minutes, neither you nor Jungkook have spoken. He’s not even crying anymore, just lightly sniffling every now and then. You wonder if he has fallen asleep. You wouldn’t be surprised, all that crying will take out all the energy out of a person…
You lean your head down to get a look at Jungkook’s peaceful face…he is sleeping. You feel yourself relax as you continue to play with his hair. He needs the rest, you think.
You feel your own eye lids getting heavy and you let yourself fall asleep as well. Jungkook snuggles deeper into your side, his face nuzzling in your chest and you hold him tighter. You two sleep like this for many hours until you’re being woken up at the sound of the blender going.
The living room is lit up with sunlight and your eyes blink lazily. You realize Jungkook isn’t sleeping with you anymore and you start to panic. Where did he go? Then the blender goes off again and you decide to stand from the couch, even though your body feels so heavy.
Jungkook is in the kitchen when you walk over, he’s got his back turned to you and you creep up behind him.
“Boo.” You say, wrapping your arms around him.
“When will you realize that will never work on me?” Jungkook lightly chuckles, “Sorry to wake you up. I figure I could make us some fruit smoothies.” He turns around in your hold. You eye him up and notice how puffy his eyes are and you feel your heart drop.
“Fruit smoothie sounds delicious.” You squeeze him tighter and Jungkook laughs a wonderful laugh. It’s loud and full and filled with joy.
“Hug me back.”
Jungkook smiles down at you and circles his arms around your waist, “Sorry, sorry.”
You smile back up at him and lean your head on his body, he feels so warm it could melt you.
“About last night…” Jungkook begins pulling away from you, “I’m sorry I kind of…”
“You don’t have to apologize.” You cut in. “It’s my fault.”
“No y/n…I’m glad things happened the way they did. I actually feel so much better.” He admits, “Lighter, even.”
“Oh? Well, good. But I am still so fucking sorry.”
“It’s okay baby.” He goes back in to hug you tighter. You feel his strong arms hold on to you and you want to stay like this forever. You would if you could. But—
“Shit. What time is it?” You step back from him, digging in your pocket for your phone. “Holy hell, I’m going to be late for work.”
“Then get going. I’ll text you later?” Jungkook asks with hope filling his eyes.
“Yeah.” You smile.
~~~~~~
Work was lame as usual, nothing eventful happened. Yoongi must have been too busy at the shop today since he didn’t come in for cookies. You decide you will go see him at the record shop tomorrow but for now…you’re dealing with something else—someone else.
“Oh? You thought Trina wouldn’t tell me?” It’s Jimin. He’s sitting on the edge of your bed with a popsicle between his lips. “Huh Miss Hickeys?”
“Jimin.” You drag his name out, “It’s not a big deal!” you throw your hands up in exasperation. “We were just really drunk and it didn’t mean anything. Just two drunk idiots.”
“Idiots, for sure.” Jimin sucks on the tip of the popsicle while he speaks.
“Seriously, it isn’t a big deal. We’re both over it.”
“Are you? You like him and he…fuck, this is getting so ridiculous. Promise me, just promise me…you will tell him the truth? You might be sur—”
“Jimin, stop.”
Jimin huffs out a deep, long breath and rolls his eyes at you.
“No.” he says matter of fact. “I won’t stop until you two talk.”
“Anyway there’s something more important we need to talk about…” you begin, “He told me about his mom.”
Jimin’s expression goes from shocked to guilty. He takes a few moments to finish the popsicle, biting the last inch or two and throwing the stick in the trashcan.
“I know. He told me.”
“Oh.”
“He’s been wanting to tell you for a long time y/n…but he just—”
“I know. It must have been really hard for him…all this time…”
“Yeah.” Jimin bows his head, “Me and Tae are the only ones who know because we were friends with him when it happened. That’s the only reason why or else I’m not sure anyone would know.”
“Is that…is that Jungkook’s secret? That you three…”
Jimin’s eyes expand as he realizes what you are talking about.
“N-No.” He admits softly, “That’s something else. That’s something Jungkook will definitely have to tell you on his own and trust me if you guys just talked…”
You tilt your head in confusion. What’s the correlation?
“Anyway, Jimin has Jungkook ever cried to you? About it all?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.
“He didn’t even cry at the funeral y/n.”
Fuck. You had a feeling. But knowing for sure is a whole other thing. The way Jungkook broke down in front of you felt like it was his first time and maybe it was and that makes your heart ache.
“Did he…cry? In front of you?” Jimin asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah…”
“Oh… he must really trust you.”
You only nod your head in response.
“If you guys just learned to communicate better…I’m really rooting for you two.”
Your heart swells at Jimin’s little confession and you nod your head again, this time with tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.
“Thanks Jimin.” Finally, you feel supported. And it makes you breathe just a little easier.
“I know things haven’t always been easy with you two ever since the Tae thing…but honestly this goes back even further. Doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. We…I don’t know what’s with us.” You chuckle bitterly.
“I do. And I am going to force you two to talk one of these days. I swear on it. I will give you guys some time but damn babe, this is just…” Jimin releases a long breath. “Just don’t give up, okay?”
“Can’t you just tell me?” you don’t mean to sound like you are begging but you kind of do.
“No. It’s truly truly not my place.”
“I can’t just assume what you are talking about, you know? I can’t hope for the best then get crushed. That’s too scary, Jimin.”
“I understand babe.” Jimin scoots closer to you until he’s within arms-reach and caresses your calve. “Just talk to him, please.”
“Too scary.”
“One of these days one of you will have the courage.”
~~~~~~
“And what could be in this little baggy of yours?” Yoongi grins, showing his wonderful gummy smile.
“I brought you 2 cookies Mister Oatmeal Raisin!” You shake the little bag in front of his face in a teasing manner and he chuckles.
“What did I do to deserve your kindness?” He takes the baggy from you and inspects both cookies. “You decided not to be bratty today?” he questions with a smile. “These cookies are perfect.”
You decided to visit the record shop today, on this fine afternoon. It’s one of those days where it’s cloudy and looks like it could rain but it never does. You love days like that.
“This place looks so nice!” you say, bobbing your head around to get a proper look.
“There’s a section where you can sit and drink coffee…it’s not much but its cozy. Wanna check it out?” Yoongi offers, gesturing towards the other side of the shop.
“Yeah.” You say, “Lead the way.”
He guides you to the other side of the shop next to a window. There’s a table for two and he’s right—it is cozy looking.
You sit down and wait for Yoongi as he fetches two coffees, which you are so excited about since you have a fucking addiction.
He sets a cup down in front of you and takes his seat.
“So any new happy moments in life? Anything new to be grateful for?”
“I—”
“That’s a trick question,” Yoongi’s eyes go small as he smiles widely, “There’s always new moments to be grateful for.”
You can’t help but laugh, you bring the steaming hot coffee to your mouth and you blow on the liquid multiple times before bringing it to your lips and taking a sip.
“Yes I guess so.” You smile.
“And what are they?”
“I’m grateful the sun is hiding today, I like the clouds a lot.”
“I love that.” Yoongi takes a sip of his own coffee. “What else?”
“I’m happy you brought me coffee.”
“I’m glad I somehow made it on your list of things.”
“What about you?” you ask.
“I’m grateful my A.C is working again!” he laughs, “It was actually broken for a couple days and I had like 5 fans plugged in around the place. I don’t think anyone wanted to come in here.”
“Oh no! Well, I’m glad it’s working!”
“How are things with your friend Jungkook? You guys were complicated last time I checked.”
You raise your brows in surprise that Yoongi would bring up Jungkook. But somehow you also aren’t surprised, it seems Yoongi takes a genuine interest in your life.
“We’re actually doing okay…” You bring the coffee back to your lips, taking another sip when—
“Have you told him your feelings yet?” Yoongi casually takes a gulp of coffee as you choke on yours.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry…was that too forward?” Yoongi sets his cup down. “To be fair, you both are very obvious.
“What do you means us ‘both’?” You grab a napkin and wipe your chin where coffee dribbled.
“He clearly likes you too.” Yoongi stares at you as you stare back with a blank expression, and he laughs. “You two remind me of myself and someone I used to know.”
“Used to?”
“We were never on the same page…too many missed opportunities that it ruined anything we could have had.” Yoongi frowns for a split second before breaking out into a soft, gummy smile. “I’d hate to see that happen to you.”
“Yoongi—”
“But if it does then better for me?” he whispers with a smile in his voice.
“What do you mean by—”
“Oh. But he has a girlfriend, right?” Yoongi cuts you off with his question.
“Not exactly but basically…”
Vanessa. Your stomach drops at the mention of her and you hate it. Why does she have to have such a strong affect on you? Why does she even have to exist? You mean, she can exist but maybe not in your life—or Jungkook’s life.
Suddenly, the doors bell goes off with a ding and Yoongi is smiling brightly at whoever just walked in. You continue to sip your coffee not giving it much mind.
“Taehyung!” Yoongi shouts out, standing from his chair to wave over his friend.
Wait, Taehyung? He can’t mean the same Taehyung—
“y/n?”
Oh shit. You turn around in your seat and your face falls when you see him. Even on this cloudy day his skin is so golden like the sun is shining down on him, he looks bright and beautiful. As usual.
“Hi Taehyung.” You wave awkwardly. He can immediately tell how uncomfortable you are, his face deepening into a frown.
“I can come by later…” he offers to you.
“No, no. Don’t be ridiculous.” You try smiling but it’s quite tense.
Yoongi looks between you two and he points between your bodies.
“You two know each other?”
“We went to school together, had mutual friends blah blah blah.” You say.
Taehyung only agrees with the nod of his head. Yoongi blinks at your two and opens his mouth to say ‘Ah.’ And heads to the back for another cup of coffee.
“How have you been y/n?” Taehyung asks awkwardly, he shifts from one foot to the other as he stands here.
“Pretty good, I think.”
“You think?” he chuckles. “Hey, sorry if my texts bother you…”
“They don’t.” you say honestly. “Sorry I don’t always reply.”
“It’s okay, I understand. How’s…Jungkook?” Taehyung eyes shoot down to the floor. “He doesn’t answer my texts either. It really hurts to see years of friendship go down the drain…”
“He’s mad at you Tae,” You begin, “But I think one of these days he will chill out.” You laugh and this makes Taehyung ease up.
“He really fucking loves you.”
“Well we are best friends… sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“We kind of stopped talking for a little while but we’re back to being friends.” You try explaining but Yoongi is walking back in with a cup of coffee in hand. He hands it to Taehyung, which he accepts gratefully.
“You’re here for that new Jazz mix record, right? I have it behind the counter for you.” Yoongi says to Taehyung and Taehyung only gives him a thumbs up. He eyes you curiously, wondering what the hell happened between you and Jungkook.
“I have to get back to work boys!” You stand from the table, “Thanks for the coffee Yoongs”
Yoongi smiles at the new nickname.
“And maybe I’ll see you around, Tae?”
“Yeah.” Taehyung gives you his signature boxy grins and you feel like maybe things all around are getting better. Just maybe.
~~~~~
Jungkook has his hands knotted in Vanessa’s hair as she chokes on his cock, her lips wrapped around it fully.
“Fuck.” Jungkook whines out, “I’m so close.”
Vanessa only moans in response, she continues to bob her head up and down on his dick making his orgasm approach quickly.
“Gonna come, gonna come.”
And he does, he comes down her throat and she swallows it all perfectly. Only a drop or two left behind on her lips which she quickly wipes away with her fingers.
Vanessa stands to her feet and Jungkook pulls her in for a quick kiss.
“That was good…” he says, somewhat out of breath.
“Glad.” She says smoothly, going in for another kiss. This time she lingers, her lips lasting for a moment longer on his.
Vanessa’s fingers brush against his neck, she traces the outline of one last bruise left on the side below his ear.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” she smiles coyly. “You two sure are weird.” She says flatly.
“Vanessa…”
“It’s fine. I know you know I still see him. It’s not like we agreed to be exclusive.” She taps her skinny fingers on his chest.
“But we are trying aren’t we? To make this work?”
“You aren’t trying very hard, are you?” the amusement in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook.
“He cheated on you, Vanessa. Why are you still seeing him? I thought you said he has a girlfriend now?”
Vanessa pauses her tapping on his chest, her eyes go wide for a second. Like, for a second she wasn’t void of emotion.
“He does.” She says smoothly before she begins tapping her fingers against his chest again.
“He cheated on me with this girl.” She admits, “Little does this bitch know—”
“Is that healthy? Getting revenge?” Jungkook asks, concern lacing his voice.
Vanessa continues to tap her fingers as she narrows her eyes at Jungkook.
“You want to talk to me about what’s healthy?” her empty laugh fills the room.
“I want you to stop.” Jungkook’s hands go to her hips, “Let’s be exclusive, Vanessa.”
“I can’t stop…” she whispers softly, “I can’t let go.”
Jungkook observes Vanessa for a few moments, she looks as vulnerable as she did the first time she talked about her ex with him. He feels sorry for her. He really does want her to move on, for her own sake.
“You can move forward, Vanessa. You have me.”
Vanessa looks into his eyes, studying his serious expression. She can tell he means well but…she doesn’t have him. She never will.
“Please Vanessa, we can make this work.” He begs, yes begs.
Vanessa tilts her head to the side. Oh? This must be his desperation talking, she thinks. His desperation to get over you. She knows this. And she doesn’t hold it against him and instead she decides to help him.
“Okay, let’s make this work.”
~~~~~~~
y/n 8:09pm
On a scale of 1-10 how bad do you wanna watch spirited away right now?
Jungkook 8:15pm
11 girl don’t play
y/n 8:16pm
I thought so, I think this means you need to come over and watch it w meeee
Jungkook 8:20pm
Lemme shower and I’ll be over:)
y/n 8:22pm
Bring beer pllllssss
Jungkook 8:42pm
On my way
y/n 8:45pm
Drive safe bb
It’s around 9pm exactly when you hear soft knocking on the front door. You scurry towards the door and open it, finding Jungkook on the other side. He is wearing your favorite gray puma sweat suit and his hair is wavy and damp. He smiles at you when he sees you eyeing him up and down.
“Like what you see?” he teases.
“Wow, what a classic line Jungkook. Real original.” You scoff, letting the boy through.
Jungkook walks in, setting down a case of beer on the breakfast table.
“I brought our favorite.” He gestures towards the beer on the table. “Let’s drink it while it’s nice and chilly.”
“Agreed. I already have the movie set up.” You point towards the T.V “Ready for our viewing pleasure.”
“Where’s Holly?” Jungkook takes two beers from the case, handing one over to you.
“Her and Trina went out to some bar, I didn’t feel like going.” You take the beer and twist off the cap, Jungkook does the same. You two clank the bottles together in cheers and take a few sips.
“Ah.” You say, the refreshing beer making you feel well, refreshed.
“Because you don’t feel like going to a bar? Or because you would rather hang out with me?” Jungkook smirks, taking another sip of his beer.
“Because I didn’t feel like getting pretty.” You bring the beer to your lips, but you don’t drink from the bottle, just waiting for a response instead.
“You’re always pretty.”
You take a sip of the beer, feeling satisfied with his response. “I know.” You half joke.
“Let’s go to a bar.” Jungkook blurts out.
“W-What?”
“Let’s go in our lounge clothes.” He smiles, “Let’s just do it.”
“No!” you laugh out, “We look like slobs. Well, I do. You look…” your hand motions towards his body, “You know, you look…”
“Are you trying to say I’m hot, y/n?” Jungkook’s sly smile grows as he drinks his beer.
“You know what I mean.” You huff out.
“Well, I think the same of you. So let’s go.”
You can’t help but laugh, you continue to drink your beer back, the liquid settling nicely.
“Okay. Fuck it, let’s do it.” You can’t help but grin, the idea of going to a bar in yoga pants and a t shirt with your sort of best friend sounds so great to you.
“But maybe a little makeup…” Jungkook starts chuckling as you hit his arm with your fist.
“Shut up.”
The bar is mostly pretty casual, maybe not as casual as you and Jungkook but still casual.
Only a small handful of people are actually dressed nicely, but mostly are in jeans and nice shirts. Somehow Jungkook is still the hottest guy here. Even in his sweat suit. You’re surprised you two even got let in, does this place not have some sort of dress code? Guess not.
It’s pretty loud inside, the place has a live band and a decent dance floor. You and Jungkook head towards the bar and take your seats.
The bartender takes a few minutes to reach you two and when she does she automatically nods at Jungkook for his order.
“Two long islands please.” He says, he smirks towards you and you smile back. Long islands? Oh you’re getting drunk drunk tonight.
“You got it.” She smiles at him with all her teeth, and turns around to start mixing the drinks.
“Long islands, huh?” you rest your head in your hand on the bar top.
“I figure neither of us are driving tonight, we might as well go hard.” Jungkook smiles at you. “I’ll buy this first round?”
“Sounds good to me.” You bump fists with Jungkook with a wide smile. “Wanna make a bet?”
“What’s that?” Jungkook quirks a brow at you.
“I bet you $5 that by the end of the night the bartender will hit on you.”
“But I also bet $5 that the bartender will hit on me.” Jungkook pouts.
You stare at him in disbelief at his cockiness and you burst out into giggles.
“Fair enough.” You say between laughs.
The bartender slides two drinks to you and Jungkook, she twists and twirls her hair in her fingers as she asks Jungkook how it tastes. He takes a sip and gives her a thumbs up, you can’t help but snicker.
“Can we also get two tequila shots?” you wave at the bartender. She turns to face you and frowns.
“Sure.” She puts on a fake smile and turns to fill up two shot glasses with tequila. She sets them in front of you a Jungkook and tells you the amount due.
“Tequila shots? Are we trying to fucking die tonight?” Jungkook chuckles from beside you. He grabs two limes and hands you one.
“To us.” You say, lifting your shot in the air.
“To you.” Jungkook whispers as you clank glasses and throw back the shots.
Holy shit, you are fucking wasted. After several tequila shots and a few long islands you and Jungkook are barely holding on. Okay, fine. It’s not that bad. But you guys are really drunk!
His hand hasn’t left your waist for hours, and it feels so fucking nice. It feels perfect. It feels right.
“y/n?” a voice calls out to you. You know this voice, really well in fact.
“Taehyung!” you cheer. You stumble forward and go in for a high five and his drunk ass high fives you back.
“Fancy seeing you again.” You giggle.
Jungkook’s hand grips your waist tighter as he narrows his eyes at Taehyung.
“What do you mean again?” Jungkook asks, his voice low.
“We ran into each other at my friend Yoongi’s” you slur out.
“Hi Jungkookie.” Taehyung awkwardly sways back and forth, his words also slurred. It’s obvious he’s on the same level as drunk as you.
“…Hey.” Jungkook hesitates to respond, he looks between you two. “y/n…is this okay? Talking to him?”
“Hm? Oh? Yeah.” You stare at Jungkook blankly. Why wouldn’t it be, you think.
“Jungkook, maybe we could talk just the two of us?”
You look between the boys and somehow you feel yourself sobering up just a bit.
“Uh. I’ll go to the bathroom.” You say, already walking away.
“You know how sorry I feel.” Taehyung begins, “About everything.”
“What’s everything?” Jungkook mumbles under his breath.
“I’m sorry for what I did to y/n. But I am also sorry for holding your secret over you like that to keep mine.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook slurs out, “That was fucked up.”
“I miss you guys…” Taehyung takes a sip of his drink, “Even Jimin barely talks to me.”
“Shouldn’t have messed with our girl.”
“You mean, your girl.” Taehyung drunkenly corrects Jungkook.
“Whatever.”
“Seriously man, when are you just going to grow the fucking balls?” Taehyung raises his voice just a bit, “It’s clear how you both feel—”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about man, plus I have a girlfriend now—”
“You guys are official now?” You walk up to the boys, cutting in. You feel like maybe he’s just saying that.
“y/n…yeah, we just made it official.” Jungkook admits, running a hand through his hair, sighing out in frustration.
Oh. You feel your heart begin to crumble. They’re dating for real now?
“Do you have feelings for her?” You blurt out.
Jungkook shifts from one foot to another, he breathes in and out in and out. He bites on his bottom lip, thinking of how to respond.
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
Well, at least he’s honest.
“Well, I’m going to head back to my friends…” Taehyung butts in awkwardly. “It was nice seeing you two.” And with that he’s slipping away in the crowd.
“Wanna dance?” you say, trying your best to change the subject. You decide you don’t want to know his answer.
“Sure.” Jungkook smiles at you, he reaches for your hand and you squeeze his tightly. You guide him to the dance floor, the song is a slow one. You two look at one another but there’s nothing awkward about this. He guides your arms to wrap around his neck and his hands circle around your waist, he pulls you in close as you two sway to the music.
“Never go 3 months without me again.” You whisper into his neck.
“W-Why are you bringing that up now?”
“I have to keep my eyes on you, Jungkook. Without my supervision you go off and get yourself a girlfriend.” Your drunken words pierce his heart.
“Is that a problem?” He whispers back. “Yes, a big problem.” You lean back to get a look at his face, he’s already staring down at you, he somehow brings you in even closer.
“Whys that?” He breathes out.
“Want you all for myself.” You admit, drunk words are sober thoughts right?
“You want me baby?” Jungkook leans down until he’s so close, like he cannot control it.
“Yes.” You blink up at him, your lips parted.
The song changes but you two continue to dance like it’s a slow song.
“I bet you $5 that some guy will hit on you in the next couple of minutes.”
You tilt your head and drunkenly giggle, “I highly doubt that.”
Jungkook reaches in his back pocket and hands you a five dollar bill.
“What’s this f—”
“You’re so fucking beautiful” and then his lips are just a mere inch away from yours before he’s pulling back with a look of horror and guilt plastered on his face.
“I—I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m with Vanessa now. I’m just drunk. I’m really drunk. You’re really drunk. We don’t know what we’re doing.” He drunkenly rambles.
You feel your heart sink down into your lower belly, you feel it crack and break into a million pieces. That’s right. Vanessa. He’s making it work with that girl.
“Yeah, it’s okay.”
“You’re my best friend y/n.” Jungkook slurs out, “I’m trying so hard not to ruin that.”
You only nod your head.
“Let’s go home.” You say.
~~~~~~
Your bed is comfy as ever, especially this drunk. Jungkook takes his shirt off and slips into the sheets, settling next to you.
“Wanna cuddle?” he offers.
“I don’t know if Vanessa would like that.” You slur.
“Right.” Jungkook lays on his back, his arms folding beneath his head. “Should I sleep in the living room?”
“No. I want you here.” You admit between soft breaths. “I always want you here.” You yawn out.
“Good.” Jungkook reaches out to hold you, “I don’t think Vanessa will mind if I cuddle my best friend for just five minutes.”
“Five minutes only” you tease. You shuffle closer to him, his warmth escaping his body and clinging to yours.
You two fall asleep like this. Morning comes slowly, like the world is giving you a chance to really appreciate one another’s company. Like the world knows that moments like this are so hard to come by. Like the world knows that you two need this.
When you wake up the next day, its half past noon. You’re still in Jungkook’s arms while he is dead asleep. You nuzzle into his chest and thank the world for giving you this moment. This moment to embrace him like he is yours, a moment to kiss his cheek like he is yours, a moment to whisper you love him like he is yours.
But he isn’t. He isn’t yours and that’s the reality. But you thank the world nonetheless. Because you need these moments to stay sane. But how do you two always end up like this? Can you keep blaming the alcohol? He tried to kiss you last night and that’s also the reality.
Jungkook wanted to kiss you. Can he keep saying it’s just because he’s drunk?
But he’s with Vanessa now and you have to respect that. And you will respect that.
You thank the world though, that right now he’s in your arms, breathing your air, and sharing this moment. Just you and him.
Finally, after another half hour Jungkook begins to stir in his sleep.
You stare at him as he wakes up and his sleepy eyes find yours.
“G’morning.” His voice is low and raspy and you want to swoon.
“Hi.”
“We…” he looks between your bodies. “Didn’t do anything, right?”
You feel your chest tighten, “No, Jungkook.” You answer calmly.
“Okay…” Jungkook frowns, “We can’t keep doing this, can we?”
Somehow you know exactly what he’s talking about, you can’t keep building this tension between you two. It goes nowhere.
“No” You admit softly, “We can’t.”
You think about Jimin’s words…could Jungkook…? But you don’t want to jump to happy conclusions, put yourself out there and then be wrong. But he tried to fucking kiss you. The girls were right, is this really all for you? You can’t keep doing this. It’s not good for you. “We really can’t.” you say again.
Jungkook smiles, but its soft and sad and makes you want to kiss his pouting lips until he shows you a real smile but you can’t.
“I’m sorry about last night.” Jungkook moves to his back, he stares up at the ceiling.
“I was just really drunk.” He continues, “Drunk me is wild.” He chuckles awkwardly.
“Is that really an excuse anymore?” you feel brave enough to say.
“y/n…”
“Forget it. We’re okay.”
“Are we?” Jungkook moves back to his side, facing you. He gives you a troubled look and you melt. Why are you always melting because of this man?
“Yeah. What’s more important is that your birthday is next week…”
“Oh yeah.”
“Can I be in charge of your party?”
“I don’t want a party, just a couple of friends.”
“Let me host it!”
“Okay, fine.” Jungkook smiles, “I can’t wait.”
“Do I have to invite Vanessa?”
“y/n.” Jungkook groans.
“Kidding!” you sing. Although, you aren’t entirely sure that you’re just kidding.
“It would be nice if you could plan this with Vanessa actually…she mentioned wanting to do something nice for my birthday too.” He sort of whispers out, like he didn’t want you to actually hear.
“Oh.” You aren’t sure what to say. You obviously don’t want co-host a get together with Vanessa but she is his girlfriend after all.
“Fine.”
You and Vanessa? Let’s see how this goes.
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hime-memes · 3 years ago
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                                                 • A Girl’s Guide To Murder   •  ( Part 1. ) 
These starters have been taken from Holly Jackson’s, “ A Girl’s Guide To Murder “ Book. These are from chapters 1 - 11. 
Recommendations: These starters would best serve angsty or crime fighting muses/plots/timelines.
As always: feel free to change anything within these starters that you see fit to make it work for your muse & the receiver’s muse !
** Any slight wording changes / sentence break ups made to the original text is to accommodate for RP purposes or more clarity. **
Trigger Warnings: Swearing, murder / death, toxic friendships, alcohol mention
“ I ... You don’t know me ... I’m ( Name ). I was a few years below you at school before you left. “  “ I was wondering if I could borrow a second of your time ? Well, not only a second, we’re already way past that ... Maybe like, a few sequential seconds, if you can spare them. “  “ I don’t think your brother/sister/sibling did it -- and I’m going to try to prove it. “  “ ( Name ) ! Why is the dog wearing my shirt ?! “  “ Oh my god, I was trying to do homework ! “  “ That’s because you’re a judgmental prepubescent boy who still thinks little people live inside traffic lights. “  “ Oh my god, ( Name ), stop being so gorge. “  “ I wish I didn’t have to be in pics with you. Give me your face. “  “ Yep. We’re prepared for the tears. “  “ Oh, the calvary’s here. “  “ First, you’re banned from looking at this for the next 24 hours. “  “ He did it over text ! “  “ Boys are dicks, you could do so much better than him. “  “ Massive red flag. “  “ Thanks for coming, guys, I didn’t know if you would. I’ve probably neglected you for half a year to hang out with ( Other Name ). “ “ ... And now I’ll be third wheeling two best friends. “  “ That’s crap we’re all best friends. “  “ Yeah, us and those mediocre guys we allow to bask in our delightful company. “  “ Do you like bunnies too ? “  “ Okay, rom-coms or films where boys get violently murdered ? “  “ I don’t see the logic in putting a nose hole in your nose hole. “  “ ‘ It’s sausage to me ‘ is a German saying; just means ‘ I don’t care ‘. “ “ Oh my god, how many times ? He only did one nude photoshoot in the eighties, that’s it ! “  “ Questionable segue, but yes - and I’m going back to interview him tomorrow. “  “ What do you think I’m going to do ? Pin her down and beat responses out of her ? “  “ But ... honestly ...I thought you were just messing with me. “  “ Like bribery muffins ? “  “ I’ve never trusted anyone who takes their coffee black. “  “ We try not to talk about ( Name ) too much: it upsets Mom. It upsets everyone actually. “  “ It’s that ... well ... we’re not allowed to grieve for him, because of what happened. “  “ Crying already ? We haven’t even gotten to the sad parts. “  “ Should I be nervous ? “ “ Uh, we were just, like, drinking, talking, playing some xbox ... nothing too exciting. “  “ No, they make me look old. “  “ That’s okay, you are old. “  “ I’ll never cross to the dark side. “  “ I remember you were about 5 at the time and always wore a pikachu onesie with a tutu. “  “ Yeah, well, Van Gogh’s work was unappreciated in his own time as well. “  “ Excuse me, ( Name ), I asked if you had a problem. “  “ I’ll deliver my complaint in person. “  “ Look, I don’t need some kid I hardly know fighting my battles for me. “  “ I’m not your problem, ( Name ); Don’t try to make me your problem. “  “ Sorry, he/she is a bit friendly. “  “ That’s no way to talk about your ( Familial Relation ) ! “ “ Sometimes, my mouth starts saying words without checking with my brain first. “  “ I used to want to be a lawyer. “  “ You can’t help that these happen to be the woods outside your house. “  “ My brain hasn’t been able to leave it alone. “  “ Go on - I want to hear your theories. “   “ You think it’s possible that ( Name ) was actually murdered ? “  “ That’s ( Name )’s ? How do you have it ? “ “ Let’s go look at it in my workstation ... uh, bedroom. “  “ Sorry, you’re just very entertaining when you’re this intense. “   “ Stop finding my life amusing ! “  “ Yeah, take a look. Don’t worry, they aren’t sexty or anything. “  “ Then, maybe someone else wrote that text ? “  “ I think they’re terrified of false hope. I am too, if I’m being honest. “  “ That line of inquiry is lost. “  “ What did you tell them about ( Name ) ? “  “ When I asked ( Name ), they just said ( Other Name ) was being a ‘ little bitch ‘ about something. “  “  I don’t like the person I was. The person I was with ( Name ). “  “ I was addicted to her. I wanted to be her. “  “ It was bound to end in tragedy, I think. “  “ Yeah, you’re right - I guess I just still feel protective of ( Other Name )’s secrets, you know ? “  “ Well, let’s hope the camping police don’t check instagram, because I’ve announced it to the world. “  “ Dismantling the patriarchy one tent at a time. “  “ I love camping ! Time for vodka and peach rings until I puke ! “  “ Well, how are you ever going to get a girlfriend ? “ “ With my hot bod and twinkling personality, obvi. “  “ She tells the handsome guy with the flashlight to shut up. “  “ A murdered girl isn’t fair game for your crappy jokes. “  “ I was just about to get to the part about ( Name )’s secret older lover - slash - killer. “   “ That’s way over the scary boundary ! “  “ Stories are fine, but no communicating with spirits. “ “ That was needlessly dangerous ! What were you trying to prove ?! “  “ We’re crying because we got lost and the flashlight broke and we’re DRUNK ! “  “ Honestly, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What does the note say ? “   
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the-ferocious-kittyrose · 4 years ago
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Rewriting Haggar/Honerva’s redemption arc
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One of the many things that bothered me about VLD S8 is Honerva’s redemption arc. While I was never fully against the idea of Honerva getting a redemption arc, I just didn’t want VLD to do it because I knew that they would fuck it up if they tried. And low and behold, I was right!
But yeah, I wasn’t against the idea of her being redeemed. And I don’t mean “redeemed” as in “all is forgiven and she’s just a good guy now,” but more like a Darth Vader, “the things she did were inexcusable and she would never be able to right all her wrongs but she goes out on one good act to show that there was still good in her deep down and she at least had the potential to change.”
I know a lot of people don’t like the whole, “redemption=death” thing, which I understand, but I personally never had a problem with it.
Ok, so why didn’t Honerva’s redemption work? Well there are a few reasons but the one that baffles me the most is that, instead of trying to make her more sympathetic, season 8 seemed to go out of its way to show her being more evil and vile than ever.
And because I have nothing better to do, I’m gonna go through Honerva’s story in VLD and explain what I would change to make her redemption more believable.
(Keep in mind I am not a writer, this is just me ranting about my favorite character and how I personally would’ve written her.)
1. Realizing she’s Altean
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I always thought it’s was weird that when Allura said “you’re...Altean!?” In the S2 finale, Haggar didn’t seem to react at all, she just kept attacking. It’s as if she didn’t care or already knew, which doesn’t make sense considering in the S3 finale and S8E2 it’s established that Haggar has no memory of who she was before she died. And in S4E3 she seems shocked by her Altean face (which also doesn’t make sense because her blue skin isn’t camouflage that’s just how she looks after the rift) so it seems like she didn’t know.
Wouldn’t it have made more sence if after Allura said “you’re...Altean!?” Honerva looked confused/shocked? If she became defensive and said Allura was lying/trying to insult her? There’s def anti-Altean propaganda in the empire so it would be considered an insult.
After that she starts questioning Zarkon. And when she looks into his mind, it’s out of genuine curiosity and desire to know the truth, not because, “the empire needs him” or whatever that meant.
And isn’t it a bit odd that she doesn’t seem betrayed at all when she finds out Zarkon has been keeping all this from her? She’s just like, “oh, you’re my husband? Cool.” Wtf???
2. Her past relationship with Zarkon
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Okay, I love Zonerva, but if we’re being honest, Zarkon was not the best husband. He enabled the shit out of Honerva, even when it was obvious that the rift was doing serious damage to her physical and mental health. To me, it seems like Zarkon was so blinded by the power the rift gave him that he didn’t realize/ignored the negative effect it was having on Honerva. In the same way he downplayed the negative impact the rift had on the planet.
I think that should’ve been explored more. Maybe Honerva notices that she’s been acting differently and is worried somethings wrong (think S5 Kuron). And Honerva tries to tell Zarkon that she feels strange and Zarkon just brushes it off.
And later, when Alfor visits Diaibazaal years later. Things are pretty much the same except when we sees Honerva, she is very obviously pregnant and Alfor’s there when Honerva falls and goes into labor (instead of a random quintessence seizure). Alfor and many Galran doctors try their best to save her and the baby but she dies in childbirth.
Zarkon goes ballistic. He’s yelling, throwing doctors across the room, and Alfor turns to the doctor holding Lotor and tells them to get the baby to safely, fearing Zarkon will take his grief out on the baby.
Zarkon turns on Alfor, blaming him for Honerva’s death and accusing him of letting her die so that he could get his way and close the rift. He lunges Alfor and roars at him to leave.
He spends the rest of the night grieving at Honerva’s bedside, when Kova jumps on the bed and starts gnawing on her finger trying to wake her up. This is what gives him the idea to bring her back with quintessence.
3. Her current relationship with Zarkon
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I think it’s pretty safe to say that they’re relationship didn’t get better after the war began. Zarkon hid her identity and her child from her for 10,000 years and essentially used her as a tool of war. It’s pretty fucked up.
I know it’s pretty well established that Zarkon treats Haggar with more respect than his other underlings, but I feel like it would be interesting to see that change overtime. We see that after Voltron comes back, Zarkon becomes very obsessed with Voltron/Black, and he and Haggar start disagreeing more and more.
Remember the moment where one of Haggar’s druids told Zarkon Haggar said he needed to rest and Zarkon hit them with his bayard and told them, “remember who your master is”? What if, instead of a random druid, it was Haggar who he hit?
I feel like that would be a good way to show Haggar and the audience just how much Zarkon’s obsession with Voltron is affecting him, and make the audience feel a tiny bit bad for her.
Then later in season 4, when Zarkon wakes up from his coma and finds out Haggar brought Lotor back to take his place he gets pissed. He puts a price on Lotor’s head and has Haggar arrested for treason. She steals a ship, escapes, and later on meets up with Lotor’s generals.
Her and Zarkon are officially broken up and her quest to reclaim her identity and get her son back begins.
4. Oriande
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I never liked the concept of chosen/sacred Alteans. The idea that some Alteans are just born more powerful than others just feels iffy. My idea of Oriande is that it’s an Altean holly land, any Altean can enter it just depends on whether or not you can pass the White Lion’s trial. Passing the trial proves that your intentions are pure and and the White Lion will bless you with power.
I didn’t like how Honerva seemed to force her way into Oriande, I think it would be more effective if she had gone through normally because, at this point, her intentions were pure. She was going there to purge herself of the dark magic corrupting her and reclaim her memories so she could go get her son back.
I also like the idea that Oriande is a sorta link to the Altean after life, and you can speak with people you’ve lost. Allura gets to speak with Alfor, and Honerva speaks with her mother.
You could also have her be confronted by the spirits of the Alteans she helped destroy. Have the weight of her past actions bear down on her. An important part of any redemption arc is acknowledging the terrible shit you’ve done in the past, and that was severely lacking in Honerva’s arc.
Another interesting thing you could do is have Honerva talk to her younger self. The one that died 10,000 years ago. This kinda thing actually happened in 80s Voltron, young Haggar appearing in Haggar’s head trying to convince her to be good again.
5. Her relationship with Lotor
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Now this is where the redemption arc really falls apart. I forget who, but one of the writers said after S5 that Haggar/Honerva was motivated purely by love for her son, but man did they do a bad job of showing that.
And it would’ve been so easy to fix that problem, just have her not be horrible to him. Have them have actual civil conversations, have her protect and defend him. Don’t have her reject him as a fucking baby!
Imagine if, after Zarkon destroys Lotor’s planet, instead of immediately deciding to
exile him, Zarkon says that this is the final straw and he’s going to have Lotor executed. But Haggar speaks up to defend Him. There’s actually a scene in DOTU where Zarkon tries to kill Lotor and Haggar gets on her knees and begs for him to be spared. (Though the scene was mostly played for laughs.)
she asks for mercy and justifies it by saying it would be unwise to kill his only heir. It’s a weak argument, Lotor’s a half breed and couldn’t realistically take the throne, but Zarkon does concede, he still loves her after all, and has Lotor exiled.
And Haggar isn’t spying on him because she doesn’t trust him, but because she’s concerned for him. When Lotor confronts Haggar about sending her cronies after him, she says she knows he’s hiding something. Lotor asks if she’s threatening him, thinking she’s going to rat him out, but she says no, she’s not threatening him, she’s just trying to warn him against doing anything stupid because, with Zarkon seemingly on his death bed, the empire needs Lotor’s leadership.
At this point in the story, Haggar is questioning her loyalty to Zarkon, so I feel like it would make sense for her to be silently supporting Lotor from the shadows.
Then at the Kral Zera in season 5, It was weird to me how she was helping Lotor through Kuron while also telling him he couldn’t be emperor and trying to put Sendak on the throne. I feel like it would’ve made more sense for Sendak to just show up on his own without Haggar.
Haggar wouldn’t even be at the Kral Zera, she would just watch through Kuron.
And then we get to S6 when she actually reveals to Lotor that she’s his mom. This scene was just so poorly done. She never actually apologizes to him, she’s just like “yeah I forgot you were my kid and I never loved you, but were cool now right?” I remember when I saw S8E2 and it shows her after Lotor rejects her and she looks like she’s about to cry, I was just thinking, “this would be very emotional and sad IF she had actually apologized and made it clear that she genuinely loved him.” But she didn’t and I don’t know why!
And then we get to season 8, and of course everything in S8 is bad but Honerva’s story is particularly bad. She’s supposed to be motivated by love for Lotor yet she doesn’t act like she actually cares about him at all.
She manipulates his corpse and when she sees his gross melted body, she doesn’t even react that much. When a mother sees her child’s mutilated corpse, how do you think she reacts? Screaming? Crying?? Hurling??? But no. She’s just like, “...”
And then when she goes to the alternate reality and meets baby Lotor and he rejects her, her reaction isn’t disappointment or sadness, it’s anger and entitlement. She immediately decides, “ok, fuck this kid. Let’s destroy this reality.”
It just doesn’t make sense! This is the season you’re trying to REDEEM her! Why are you going out of your way to make her so vile?
6. Her S7-S8 plan
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(Keep in mind I haven’t watched S7/S8 since they came out and barely even watched S8 to begin with, so I don’t remember some things and I can’t be bothered to rewatch them.)
Okay, starting with S7, she’s not in this season at all but in “The Ruins” the druid dude says that her final order was to hunt and destroy the Blade of Marmora. I guess it makes a certain amount of sense because she saw that it was Keith who brought Lotor’s actions to light, but that whole plot was really pointless in my opinion. (Was anybody really hoping for a rematch between Keith and that one random druid?)
If you want us to forgive Honerva for her crimes, you really shouldn’t keep adding more unnecessary crimes. It’s established that there were a lot of Galra war lords vying for power and pirates looking for money, just have it be that Kolivan got kidnapped by one of them.
Then you have her season 8 plan and I’m gonna be real with y’all, I have no idea how to fix this mess.
I feel like the basics of her plan could work. She tries to get Lotor and Sincline out of the rift but when she gets him he’s a melted corpse so the plan then becomes to use sincline to go to another reality to find a living Lotor, but opening all these rifts causes problems and the paladins have to stop her.
But all the shit with manipulating the colony Alteans, killing the White Lion, desecrating Oriande, and destroying Olkarion and entire realities, it was all so unnecessary.
Personally I would cut the colony Alteans from the story all together, there are other ways for Lotor to betray the team. It was a lazy way of making Lotor 100% evil and having Honerva manipulate them is unnecessarily cruel, especially in the season you’re trying to redeem her.
Here’s a very basic outline of how I would do this plot.
If we’re going by season 8’s logic that she needs a sacrifice to bring back Sincline, I would’ve had the Galra she killed at the Kral Zera be the sacrifice, not the White Lion. She stands on the pyramid and talks about how the empire stole her life from her and she wants revenge as she absorbs their quintessence into herself and then uses that to bring back Sincline.
Then when she finds Lotor dead she takes Sincline and uses it to go to another reality where she can be with her family.
The danger comes when she opens rifts to the other realities and rift creatures start coming out and causing damage. The paladins fight them and follow her into the rift to stop whatever evil plan she may have. Because the paladins don’t know that Haggar is now Honerva and all this is just to get Lotor back. They think this is all some plan for multiverse domination or some shit.
Meanwhile Honerva has just been rejected by little Lotor and seeing Voltron show up pushes her over the edge and they fight.
But when they find out the real reason she’s doing all this they start trying to appeal to her and convince her to give up and close the rift peacefully. And similarly to how the paladins had to sacrifice the castle to close the rifts created by the fight with Lotor, Honerva has to sacrifice herself to close the rifts.
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In the end, I feel like a Honerva redemption arc could’ve worked if the writers were actually competent and actually made an effort to have her be sympathetic, but In canon, her reasoning, “If I can’t indulge in the simple joys of life, why should anybody else?” just doesn’t cut it.
It’s disappointing. VLD had so much potential. I’m thinking of just rewriting the entire series from the beginning. Hopefully putting all my thoughts out into the universe will help me move on.
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permanentcrossfics · 4 years ago
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Blurred Lines: A Different Christmas // h.s.
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How do we write Christmas fics in a really weird year? I’m still not sure, but I tried to string together a bit of relief for the end of December. I’m shutting myself up now, even though there’s lots I want to say. This is for anyone who wants it, anyone who needs it, anyone who enjoys it (or hates it!) silently and vocally alike. My Christmas gift is the happy and unexpected bonus of anyone reading what I have so much selfish fun thinking of and spinning out. Happy and Merry Christmas if you celebrate it, and a happy and merry end of December if you don’t and are just doing you! x
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It was the big Christmas tree you’d dragged back home by yourself on top of a rickety shopping cart all the way from a place on Second Avenue that had been your breaking point. Picking it had its own bittersweet undertones, but the smell of fresh pine tickling your nose even through a mask had kept you afloat as you struggled to get it off and onto curbs before traffic pancaked you in the middle of the road. It wasn’t until you were back inside, still wrapped in your coat and struggling to get it upright in the stand the correct way that you burst into a torrent of hot, selfish tears and bowed your head, kneeling next to the mass of needles and branches. He should be here! He should be helping you. He should’ve helped anchor lights in windows, he should’ve had an opinion on the scented candles, he should’ve made you go back for decorations you just weren’t sure of because you wanted them regardless of what he thought, and he should’ve helped pick, and carry, and set up the tree. The whole reason you’d gone out to get a fresh tree – something real in a year that had felt anything but – was to lift your spirits, but instead you were sobbing next to it and it all felt a little dramatically pointless. It was everything you’d avoided last year by flying off to England but that you couldn’t escape this time. What was the point? What was the point of pretending?
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“You coming home with me this year?” 
Again. He asked the same question you’ve been dodging for weeks since plans had started to look uncertain again, not because he was pestering you, but because somehow, some way, you were both hoping for an answer with a loophole. 
“I can’t,” you said softly, regretfully, holding your phone close to your face with one arm as you curled up under the duvet of a bed in an apartment that had somehow become yours together instead of his alone throughout the course of a very new, very different, very unsettling year. “For a few reasons.” 
And he knew that. 
Harry’s deep breath crackled and he dragged his hand down his face, holding it there as he shook his head, the thought processes you’d learned to read so well hidden from view. 
You’d liked going home with him last year -- loved it, even. You’d hardly had time to look forward to a repeat when the world had flipped in the first quarter or sooner, and the sand had just kept slipping through the hourglass until all time for hope of a new and normal Christmas was gone and sucked away into the void of the year. 
So many plans. So many memories that lived only as memories of daydreams now. So much else, so much more important, devastating, and tragic you couldn’t even put it into words and, frankly, didn’t want to. Not now -- you spent too much time thinking about it to think about it now, too.
“Filming’s done soon,” he said from behind his hand. “I can book my flight to New York--”
“Harry--”
“And then go to Manchester after Christmas -- after the New Year, we always take a bit of a longer break. Mum won’t mind--”
“Your mother’s barely seen you since last Christmas,” you said. “Your sister, too, and there’s not enough time to--”
“Course there is!”
“Two weeks quarantine in each?” you asked. “That’s a month of staying put, let alone--”
A split second glance at his face was all you saw before the screen went black and you bit your tongue. He hadn’t hung up, because you’d heard the soft thud when his phone collided with his chest, and you could hear him breathing now, so you waited, suppressing your own urge to snap as he had his. Despite having spent the better part of the year together, it was frustrating to think about not being together for the season. All you wanted was him, though you knew better than to voice it out loud. He’d do it -- for you, he’d do it if you asked him to -- and you’d have to live with the guilt of taking him away from his family at the time of year where family should be together most, if it mattered to them. And you’d been weirdly lucky enough to have him most of the year between carefully navigated business trips. He was only one man with one body. It didn’t -- couldn’t -- matter that you wanted him, too. 
That you wanted to be with the man you loved. 
When he picked up the phone again, his face was drawn, tired, and not just from filming, you suspected. 
“Go home,” you urged, swallowing the break in your voice. “You miss home, and home misses you. I’ll have fun decorating and send you all the pictures you won’t be able to do anything about.” 
His throat bobbed hard, audibly, and his eyes looked dangerously shiny. 
“Next year I’ll go home with you,” you said, burrowing half your face into your pillow. “London and Holmes Chapel both.”
“Next year,” he said eventually, voice raspy. “We’ll have Christmas at home next year.” 
You nodded, forcing the lump rising up, up, and up back down. “You should go to sleep,” you said. “It’s late and you have to be up early.”
“Later for you,” he said and you sighed, noting the 3:08 timestamp at the top of your screen. 
“Let’s go,” you said. “Call me when you can.” 
“I will.” Sad, but resigned. You wanted to reach through the screen and touch the downturned corners of his mouth to push them back upright again. “Sleep well, and I love you.” 
Taking a deep breath, you murmured, “I love you, too,” before hanging up the call and the room descended into darkness and you into a fitful sleep. 
***
At first, you were determined to make the most of it. Your studio had always been small, cozy, and Christmasy to the best of your abilities, but his -- your -- apartment had so many more possibilities. Candles were the first to be set out, with strategic clusters of red, green, and gold-colored wax placed all about and nestled in fake holly wreaths. String lights that cast a pretty glow lined windows even in the bedroom for some last minute holiday cheer, and despite the urge to drive him up a wall, you did your best to only pick out other decorations that you’d both like and want to use in the future. Because as much as you might avoid talking about it in many certain terms the longer the relationship went on (it still felt so funny to think that a one night stand had turned into a relationship), there was a future. He was your future. It wasn’t your first Christmas together, but it might be your last one apart. 
It was the big Christmas tree you’d dragged back home by yourself on top of a rickety shopping cart all the way from a place on Second Avenue that had been your breaking point. Picking it had its own bittersweet undertones, but the smell of fresh pine tickling your nose even through a mask had kept you afloat as you struggled to get it off and onto curbs before traffic pancaked you in the middle of the road. It wasn’t until you were back inside, still wrapped in your coat and struggling to get it upright in the stand the correct way that you burst into a torrent of hot, selfish tears and bowed your head, kneeling next to the mass of needles and branches. 
He should be here! He should be helping you. He should’ve helped anchor lights in windows, he should’ve had an opinion on the scented candles, he should’ve made you go back for decorations you just weren’t sure of because you wanted them regardless of what he thought, and he should’ve helped pick, and carry, and set up the tree. The whole reason you’d gone out to get a fresh tree -- something real in a year that had felt anything but -- was to lift your spirits, but instead you were sobbing next to it and it all felt a little dramatically pointless. It was everything you’d avoided last year by flying off to England but that you couldn’t escape this time. What was the point? What was the point of pretending? 
Wiping your nose, you stood, eyes heavy, swollen, and itchy. With your coat gone, you heaved the tree up until it was sitting securely in its stand, needles scattered in its wake but branches full and outstretched, enveloping you in the warm smell of Christmas in a way the cedar- and balsam-scented candles couldn’t. Stepping back with your hands on your hips, you looked up at it, the swell of your anxiety simmering, thanks partly to your crying fit and partly to succeeding at the task. You’d decorate it bit by bit to draw the season out, and then on Christmas Eve, you’d call him and you’d both sit by your own trees and talk until it was Christmas Day for him. It was just for now -- this wasn’t the way of all ways for all time. 
Click.
You nearly passed out cold from the rush of fearful adrenaline shooting through you when the lock on the door clicked. In three seconds, you ran through whether or not you’d locked the door, determined that you had but then had forgotten, and figured out that somehow, someone had gotten in and they weren’t supposed to. You spun, frozen, brain zooming to determine if you dove behind a sofa or if you charged, but you didn’t get the chance before the door opened. 
A duffle bag, a foot, a body, in that order, and then a pair of wide, green eyes rimmed with circles just above a cloth mask.
“You do not get to be mad at me,” he said, voice muffled. He grunted and pushed the door open wider to bring in the rest of his luggage as you stood there, as equally speechless as you were breathless. “I tested before I came here,” he said, speaking with a loud if exhausted sort of authority, like he was trying to get the words out before you could protest. “But I’ll take the guest room, and I’ll get my own food, and we’ll keep out of each other’s space until the two weeks are up.” 
He brought his bags in the rest of the way, and it was only when he was halfway by you that he stopped in his tracks. “Y’haven’t moved,” he said, eyebrows furrowing as he narrowed his eyes on you. “Are you all right?” 
Lightheaded, you nodded. 
“O… kay,” he said, stilted, still eyeing you. “M’just gonna go get settled and showered, then.” 
“What are you doing here?” you asked, the words finally forcing themselves from you. 
“S’Christmas.”
“You’re supposed to--”
“Mum knows,” he interrupted. “M’taking Christmas here this year. Gem’ll have Christmas with her and I’ll go along after. She’s excited about having two. ‘Scuse me….” 
Nodding, you waved him away to hurry, shoo, because you could feel the emotions rising in you again and your confusion wasn’t enough to quell them. Fifteen minutes ago, you’d been kneeling on the floor with aching knees, crying, and now here he was. 
You’d wrestle with the confliction of doing what was right and doing what you wanted… later. Later, when you could wrap your head around it and the choice he’d made. 
Two weeks. That would put you just on Christmas Day, basically. Just two weeks.
***
Dodging him around the apartment was a lot more difficult than you would’ve guessed for how big it was. More than once you nearly slammed into him in the kitchen, and someone was always in the favored bathroom. For his part, he’d taken to wearing a mask when he roamed, and even though you told him he didn’t have to do that, all he did was hum behind it. You got it -- the positive result from the crewperson on set had spooked everyone, and he was being safe. You both were being safe, but for as mindful as you’d been throughout, all you wanted to do was hold him, hug him, kiss him. Video calls were ridiculous when you were in the same house and you could hear his laugh through the walls. But you got it, and if you kicked too much he’d book a hotel to quarantine away from you, so you’d rather have him here, as selfish and risky as it was. 
It was three days into your little bubble that he finally dared to get within arm’s reach of you. You were mulling over where to put the chimney sweep ornament when he shuffled over to the foot of the ladder you were leaning on, and you raised an eyebrow, arm outstretched.
“Can I help you?” you asked.
He shook his head, the lights from the tree reflected in his eyes. “Just watching,” he said from behind his mask. 
“You’re standing a little close, aren’t you?” you teased. Jokes were all you had -- all anyone had this year, if they were lucky. 
Immediately, he scowled -- how funny you could tell what his face looked like so clearly even with the cloth stretched firmly across it -- and you giggled. “Watch what you’re doing,” he said, taking his hands from his sweatshirt pocket to grab the ladder legs, and with his support, you held on tightly and leaned over to place it on the prime branch. 
“Thank you,” you said. “Do you want to pass me that box?” 
He did so and you murmured your thanks, resting it on the top step as you pulled ornaments out to hang them. 
“Not there,” he said before you could drop a hook over a branch with a snowflake. “Give it… thank you.” He took it carefully from you and placed it on a different one closer to him, lower than where you were placing it but slightly higher than you could reach without a ladder. 
“Thank you.” 
Together, slowly, ornaments were hooked and rehooked (and rehooked yet again when one of you noticed the other had moved them from a spot you each thought was perfect) until the tree was trimmed, each branch heavily laden, bearing the weight of ornaments and of providing joy after the year behind. 
“How’d you get this home?” he asked, looking up at it with you once you were off the ladder. 
“Carefully,” you said dryly. “Oh! The top.” You turned, but he cut across your path.
“I’ve got it,” he said, grabbing the box from the precarious stack next to the coffee table. 
“I want to,” you whined and he snorted.
“You’ve done the whole bloody thing,” he said without venom. “Let me do just the one.” With it in hand, he climbed the ladder as you held it steady, and he set it on the topmost branch, prodding it until it was tall and straight up, all five points outstretched and shining. 
“That’s perfect,” you said under your breath, resting your head on his leg, and he patted the top of your head gently. You stayed like that for a minute, two, three, and more, with your arm curling around his calf, embracing as much physical contact as he’d allowed since he came home. “How many more days?”
“Eleven.” He sounded thoughtful, resentful, and exhausted all in one go. You squeezed his leg and kissed his knee through his joggers. 
“Then it’s Christmas,” you said.
He exhaled slowly, still patting your head. “Christmas morning.” 
***
Eleven. Whole. Days. 
Eleven days of more of the same. He’d eased up, thankfully, and dared to venture a little closer with a mask on, because, as you’d reminded him, he had tested negative. You sat on opposite ends of the couch, enjoying the Christmas tree and decorations together, laughing, talking, planning, and exchanging stories about everything that had happened while you were apart. His, of course, were wildly more interesting, but he somehow managed to hang onto every word of even your most droll and mundane ones, and always with the right questions and supportive murmurs of agreement as necessary. 
Eleven days of saying goodnight and crawling into a bed that was too big for one when two was next door. 
Eleven days of not being able to share meals properly or touch each other -- sex aside -- and eleven days of Hell.
“It’s your fault,” you said one night from your end of the couch, scowling with your arms crossed. The tree twinkled happily despite your sour mood, and music that was too merry and bright played from the television. 
“Me?” he asked indignantly. 
“Yes! You had to do that stupid film.” 
“It’s not stupid.”
“You’re wearing a mask in our home,” you said, burrowing into the cushions. “If I want to call it stupid, I will.” 
He groaned, dropping his head forward. “Baby….”
You grunted. 
“It’s only a couple more days. A couple more days, and then it’s Christmas. Think of it like a present you’re waiting for.”
Despite yourself, you snorted. 
“I’m all you want for Christmas, aren’t--?”
“Shut up,” you said, kicking his thigh with your extended leg. He snickered, eyes crinkled and full of light all their own. 
“Couple more days,” he said, patting your ankle. “Couple more days, and then you won’t even be able to get rid of me. We’ll be in bed all weekend.”
“I’m not calling your mother from bed.”
He waggled his brows with some exaggeration and you rolled your eyes. 
That had been around day five, maybe six. Suffice it to say, by Christmas Eve, you were done. 
“It’s one day!” you said over breakfast in the kitchen. “One day, Harry!” 
“We made it this long,” he said, pouring hot coffee into a mug that had his face printed onto the head of dancing elf -- a gift from his mother shipped along with a matching one for you that she insisted you both open ahead of time to enjoy for as long as possible. “We can make it a couple more hours.”
“If I stripped naked, what would you do? Stand there and watch me?” 
He froze and looked at you over his mask, the heated warning pinning you in place. Huffing, you pushed the stool away from the counter and hopped off it.
“Where are you--?”
“Out,” you said. “I’m going to get--” You floundered. “Coffee.” 
A beat passed and his eyes dropped to the mug in his hand.
“We literally have--”
“I’m going out!” you said, wrapping your neck and half your face up in a scarf to keep warm. You were going out, because you were mad, and the tantrum was burgeoning. That poor man had seen more unreasonable tantrums from you this year than he had in the entire two and a half you’d reciprocally acknowledged each other’s presence, and you hated it. But he’d hate it, too, if you’d gone on a trip for work and come back and things were off.
Could be worse, you reminded yourself. It could be so very, very much worse.
“I love you,” you said, calmly, firmly. “I’ll be back. I’m only going around the block. Take that--” You waved at his mask, “--off. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way in..” 
When you returned, he was in the guest room, but a fresh cup of coffee in your own dancing elf mug rested on a mug warming plate. The last of your frustrations that hadn’t melted with the walk deflated and you picked it up, enjoying the aroma before taking a deep sip. 
He always made it better. And the coffee was nice, too. 
His mother called in the afternoon and you hardly noticed he was at your side until the phone was in front of your face and you gave a startled hello. 
“Has he been wearing that the whole time he’s been home with you?” she asked, her gleaming eyes and wide, genuine smile matching her son’s own warmth. 
Home. With you. 
“He has,” you said. 
“S’posed to be proud of me,” Harry said and Anne laughed.
“Of course, sweetheart. We’re still calling tomorrow?” she asked you. 
“Yeah,” you said. “We’ll be here.”
“Next year will be different, won’t it?” she all but clucked. “Did you like your mugs? I got one for me, Gemma, and Michal, too.” 
“Used them just this morning,” he said, squeezing your hip and wandering away. “Won’t be posting them anywhere for people to see, though….” 
Eventually -- finally -- the day drew to a close, and you crawled into bed with the knowledge that it was just one more night. One more night, and then in the morning you could say hello like you wanted to. One more night and you wouldn’t want to bite his head off. One more night and you wouldn’t feel so mental, as he would put it. 
And yet, lying there, the minutes dragged. Ten? No, just one. Fifteen? Five. 
It felt like Christmas, though. As much as this was pure torture, this was what Christmas was supposed to feel like -- like it used to feel when you were a kid and you’d wait for weeks tingling anticipation, counting down, hoping that you’d find what you wanted under the tree, bursting with more energy than any amount of sugar could give you. Except instead of presents, or money, or sweets, you were waiting for the man who’d been under your nose for two weeks by this point. You got to kiss your boyfriend tomorrow. You got to see your boyfriend, hold your boyfriend, and celebrate Christmas with your boyfriend. 
Twenty minutes? Two. 
12:02.
Two minutes after midnight.
Christmas.
Fourteen days. 
Oh!
You sprang from the bed before you could think about the matter and darted to the door over the cold wooden floor, but when you rounded the corner in the hallway, out of nowhere, something all but slammed into you. Sucking in a sharp breath with a screwed up face, you squeaked when you collided with a very warm, very sturdy frame. Belatedly, two arms shot out to grab you by yours to steady you. “Oh my God, I--”
Hair, forehead, eyes, nose, and mouth, too. No mask. 
“Are you o--?”
He didn’t get to finish his question. You clapped your hands over his cheeks and kissed him soundly before he could kiss you first. Under ordinary circumstances, he’d laugh -- you both would -- but rather than that, he locked both his arms around you tightly and spun you, teetering precariously with you in tow until you got to the guest bed. Tackle was an apt word for how he delivered you to it, but you were the farthest thing from upset at finally having not even an inch of space between you. The bed smelled like him and it was warm, he was warm, and you were kissing again, and again, and again, cold noses smushing together as you found new angles. 
“Christmas,” he mumbled between them.
“Mmhm,” you returned against his mouth, legs interlocking with his. “I missed you,” you whispered.
“Missed you, too.” 
Shivering, you both pulled the duvet up over your shoulders, and you curled up against him. Cologne, skin, and laundry detergent, with a bit of his minty toothpaste. There was no scented candle for that. You pressed your fingers against his chest and scratched lightly through the smattering of hair there. “We could go to our bed,” you reminded him, but he shook his head.
“Y’here now,” he rasped, leaning in to press his lips comfortably to your hairline, one arm draped over your back. “Let’s stay here tonight and we can change things later.” 
“Were you coming to get me?” you asked, voice shaking as the last of the shivers left your bones. 
“Yeah,” he admitted. You laughed, teeth chattering, and he pulled you closer. “Don’t laugh!” he said, rubbing your back and warming you. “S’been two weeks for me, hasn’t it?”
“For you!”
“You try bein’ home with you for that long,” he mumbled. 
Shaking again, but less than before, you kissed the underside of his chin. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, darling.” 
***
When you woke up, his back was to you, and his one shoulder was rising and falling with the rhythm of his sputtery, wheezy snores. You smiled, closing your eyes, and snuggled into the pillow. Better -- much better. You dozed on for an unknown amount of time, and you were walking the line between sleep and consciousness when featherlight kisses across your brow startled you and you jerked awake.
“Sorry,” Harry mumbled, only sounding slightly truthful. You made a noise and stretched, shaking from head to toe before curling up into a tight little ball next to him and opening your eyes fully. His own were puffy with sleep, but he grinned radiantly as if he’d been awake for a while.
“What?” you asked in a croak.
“Nothing,” he said. “Mum’s gonna call soon.”
Groaning, you halfheartedly turned your head to look over your shoulder. “What time is it?” you asked, straining to see the window and get a gauge. 
“S’ten,” he said. “So about three for them. Sure you don’t want to call from bed?” 
You glowered at him and his lip twitched. “I’ll put the coffee on.” 
When you finally managed to leave the warm nest of the bed, the living room had been transformed. The tree was on, twinkling under the streams of light pouring in through the windows, and he’d lit the fireplace, too, flames licking up and up behind the glass. Soft, melodic Christmas music floated from the far corners of the room, and the smell of coffee tickled your nose. 
“So,” he said from his spot at the island as he unwrapped cheeses and opened jars of olives, and jams, and honeys, and other goodies. “What time do we pop the bubbly?” 
Laughing softly, you shuffled over. “It’s ten.”
“Little after ten now,” he said, lips pressed tightly together and arms flexed until the lid popped. “And somewhere in the world it’s five o’clock.” 
You pulled a grape off the bunch lying on the counter and popped it into your mouth, chewing not so delicately but enjoying the sweet burst of freshness. You’d no sooner swallowed than his phone started buzzing and you grabbed it, sliding your finger to answer the call from the incoming Mum and pointing it at him.
“Happy Christmas, honey.” Anne’s voice was warm even through the phone, and Harry’s head whipped up.
“Wh-- Happy Christmas-- didn’t know you were-- ‘scuse the mess,” he said as you giggled behind the phone. 
“Having a good morning so far?” 
“Goin’ ok, yeah,” he said. “Just getting started, heating up the coffee.”
“Where’s your better half gotten off to?” 
Trying not to melt, you waved your hand in front of the camera. 
“Hello, love,” she said. “Happy Christmas.” 
“Happy Christmas, Anne.”
“Are we going to get to see you today?”
“Fair’s fair,” Harry chimed in. “Turn that thing around, why don’t you?” 
Rolling your eyes, you flipped the phone and waved, sliding around the counter to stand next to him. 
“That’s better,” Anne said with a firm nod. She had a red top on with a festive, sparkly necklace, and looked a good deal more put together than either one of you.
“Where’s Gem?” Harry asked, taking the phone from you so you could unbox the crackers. 
“Upstairs napping off the morning,” she said. “She’ll want to call again later.” 
And that was how the morning went, with each of you passing his mother back and forth while you carried plates and trays full of snacks to the coffee table and couch in front of the tree to nibble while tearing into gifts on camera, including a box full of chocolates for you, Branston pickle for him, and Christmas crackers for both of you to have, “A little bit of home this year.”
“Thank you,” you said, clutching your sweets close. “And thank you for--” Unbidden, you choked up, and Harry glanced at you sharply, his inquisition vanishing with his understanding. For sharing him -- allowing you to steal him away during the holidays in a year where everyone needed family, either by blood or choice. He squeezed your shoulders and his mother, as adept as he was at redirecting a conversation, piped up. 
“Promise you’ll come see us again next year,” Anne said. “It’s been too long.”
“It has been,” you agreed, resting your cheek on his shoulder. 
“Maybe sooner.” Harry looked down at you. “If things ease up?” 
You nodded. “Summer in London,” you mused. “That would be nice.”
“And then a bit of time back home. We could go before things pick up in August.”
Summer in London. A beacon of hope you couldn’t erect just yet, but a beacon nevertheless. A bit of time with him before he, hopefully, went back to work and you got to revisit adjusted and postponed plans. 
The rest of your Christmas Day was quiet -- different from the year before when you’d been overwhelmed with names, faces, screeches of Uncle Harry, and not being sure how to break your way in. You kept trays of cheese, crackers, and other snacks within an arm’s reach, and by the early afternoon both of you had a comfortably steady buzz from the bubbly he was good at topping off both your glasses with -- never sloppily drunk, but enough to be warm in your fingers and toes and to seek out cuddles from him under the blanket you were snuggled in on the sofa with paper crowns on both your heads. 
“Can I tell you something?” you asked, ribs crunched from how far you’d slid down on the sofa to nestle into his side, all but eye-level with his chest. “And have it not be as awful as it sounds?” 
You felt his laugh before you heard it. “Sure,” he drawled. “What is it?” 
Squeezing his wrist, you turned your mouth into his forearm, eyes on the television as a snowman leapt and bounded over a wide, snowy plain before jumping into the air. “I like this Christmas,” you admitted into his skin. 
Harry snorted. “S’not awful, s’the point -- Christmas is supposed to be likeable.”  
“You know what I mean,” you said, sighing. “I know it’s just us and there’s no family or anyone around, but… I dunno… it’s not all bad, is it?” 
“Like having me to yourself?” 
You groaned and rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Shut up,” you mumbled. 
He kissed the top of your head, crown crunching under it, and you grunted. “S’not so bad,” he said into your hair. “Like having you all to myself, too, y’know.” 
“You’re just saying that because you have to because you’re stuck with me,” you said and he laughed with another smacking kiss. 
“Not stuck with me yet,” he crooned. “Can leave any time you want.” 
“Maybe I will….”
“Oi!”
Giggling, you untangled yourself from him and squirmed out from underneath the blanket. “More bubbly?” 
***
Boxing Day was a Christmas redux, with more cheese, sparkling wine, music, and calls with family and friends. Long distance versions of old favorite games were adapted and adopted, and you snickered quietly from the corner of the couch, staying out of his way when he shouted about how he had hit the button, it was his trackpad that hadn’t worked. 
The late afternoon and on, though, was yours together and alone with the time difference breaking up the party earlier than it normally would be. The bittersweet cloud vanished, though, when you at some point you separated even further into your own activities -- him with his stack of new books and you with a film you played quietly on your laptop. Able to be near each other without having to be wrapped up and begging with your bodies for sorely missed attention, it finally, really, felt like home again. 
“It’s so pretty out,” you murmured, nose pressed to the windowpane to see as much of the light-lined streets as you could. It got dark earlier and earlier these days, and yet later than it had even a few days ago. “I love Christmas in New York. I wish--” You caught yourself ahead of finishing the sentence, thinking better. 
You wished it was a normal year -- for many reasons -- so you two could go out and see the city. So you could show him your favorite places, so you could make memories together like you had with him last year. It wasn’t anything life altering or new, but it was different when you were with someone you loved. You wanted him to know you -- all of you, even the unknowable parts. 
“Y’know,” he said next to your ear, hand on the back of your neck as he slunk up behind you, “it’s getting pretty late.”
You turned your head slightly, looking at him in the reflection of the glass. “Do you want to go to bed?” 
Too early for sleep. Was he asking for sex? 
Harry hummed and shook his head. “How ‘bout you get your coat on?” he murmured. “Let’s have that Boxing Day walk we didn’t get last year.”
“Now?”
“When else?” he said. “Haven’t been out yet, and it’s late. Streets’ll be empty. We can go wherever, do whatever, see whatever.” 
“You’re serious?” 
Nodding, he pulled you by the arm and you stumbled with him, still processing it even as you pulled beanies on with masks and (winter) gloves.
“Where are we going?” you asked.
He shrugged, calling the elevator. “Dunno,” he said. “Figured you’d lead the way. Show me your favorite bits. Seem t’remember summat about Bryant Park last year.” 
There were sobering realities at the street level, too. Gates were down on storefronts that hadn’t been pulled up since March, awnings above them tattered from months of neglect and ‘For Rent’ signs flapping against them in the wind. The usual post-holiday influx of tourists was thinned, with hardly a white sneaker in sight, and everything was just a little quieter than it should be and would be in a usual year.
But there were lights. Broadway’s may have dimmed for the time being, but endless, endless displays of lights, brighter without the ambient light pouring from storefronts diminishing their power, offered beacons of hope -- literal lighthouses in a storm of a year -- and led you uptown like a trail of breadcrumbs. 
You pulled him this way and that way, weaving through side streets to look at any display that looked bright enough from a distance, fingers locked tightly with his in a way they never were outside of the house. As bittersweet as it was no one was out, it afforded you a level of privacy you never had, anywhere. Not even Holmes Chapel. You couldn’t remember a time where you’d ever held his hand for this long at one time, if you were honest, and while you didn’t need it, you enjoyed the option. 
In between zigs and zags, he mumbled stories to you about this time, and another time, and a time after that, pointing at buildings, venues, restaurants, and hotels, and you listened half in awe and half in earnest. It was a whole other life he’d lived without you before, and you’d only been aware of the surface of it. Nobody knew what he was telling you except the people he’d lived it with, and you didn’t think you’d ever get over or be able to thank him for trusting you to be someone he chose to share it with. 
“I love Sixth,” you said, sighing as you walked past giant red Christmas ornaments three times the size of you both, the reflection of the string lights wrapped around tree branches bouncing off their shiny surfaces. Radio City’s electric red script beamed at you both from a distance, and traffic lights winked and waved in the wind up and down the avenue. “They do a lot with it.” 
“It’s pretty,” he said, squeezing your hand. “Tree’s this way, isn’t it?” he asked. 
You raised your eyebrows. “Yeah,” you said. 
He jerked his head and you blinked. 
“You want to?” you asked. 
“Just a bit,” he said. “Let’s go.” 
“There’s people!” you warned him, because even from here you could see the trickle of people with the same thought. “And I saw online they have a schedule--”
“We don’t have to get close,” he said, pulling you firmly. “S’big enough we don’t need to, just wanna take a peek.” 
He was so certain, but you were less so, because all you needed was someone to see him to break the serene bubble you’d blown around yourselves. Despite that, you shuffled with him until the tree was visible, a bright, glowing ball of multi-colored lights stretching towards the sky. “Wow,” you whispered under your breath. 
“S’nice,” he said and you nodded your agreement. It was nice -- despite the sad press it had gotten, the tree had turned out very nice at the end of it all, tall and impossibly beating all odds. What a metaphor for the year.
“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, squeezing him around the middle. 
“Come here,” Harry said next to your ear.
“Hmm?” Reluctantly tearing your eyes from the tree, you gasped when he pulled your mask down first and then his own in two swift tugs, revealing a cheeky grin with a face cradled by the fabric. “What are you doing?” you asked, eyes darting around. 
“Getting a kiss by the tree with my girlfriend,” he said. “Now, come here,” he repeated. This time, you obliged and allowed him to steal one, two, three kisses, each one of them smashed against your lips with a palpable sort of eagerness that made you think he would drink you if he could. This felt… normal. Normal, safe, and free. 
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like that. 
When you broke and burrowed against his neck, he covered the back of your head and wrapped his other arm around your back, cocooning you in the shell of the most protective embrace he could give. Just a man -- any man, a regular man -- holding the person he loved, and, after his decision to stay with you through Christmas and New Years, he arguably loved you most. 
Through the thick knit of your beanie, you felt him kissing your head, and you nuzzled into his scarf. “Thank you,” you said, face safely out of sight. “For coming here.” 
“Not mad a’me for it?” he mumbled and you shook your head. “‘Kay, good.” 
Shivering, you huddled closer and he tightened his arms, shielding you from the brisk wind. 
“People will see,” you said, but despite that you held him closer. 
“Who cares?”
He did, despite his quiet rasp. He did, and you knew why he did, but right then, you could pretend that it didn’t matter at all. 
***
It was simultaneously the longest and shortest week of your life. 
The longest, because time didn’t exist, much like it hadn’t for most of the year. Days, afternoons, evenings, and nights blended together, blurred by a happy holiday haze onset by too much of everything good -- sleep, sustenance, and spirits. The weird, if nice, part of all the extra time was having the chance to do things you’d enjoyed over the course of the year all over again. Nine times out of ten, when the two of you were together, it was rushed even on the long layovers. You’d watch one series or a film the whole way through, and next time you’d have to be on to the next one you’d agreed to hold off on until the other was there, but after having spent most of the year under the same roof, the typical race to the next one was paused. Instead, you settled in for old Christmas films and other ones you hadn’t seen since you first started properly dating, lending a timeless sort of quality to the week. 
The shortest, because he’d only just gotten there. How had it been three weeks since he’d walked in the front door with a mask on and a warning? Three weeks, two of them masked, and now it was over and done. The whole year was over and done, with 2020 coming to a slow close after feeling simultaneously like it never would and like it was moving much, much too fast. Who would’ve known this would be how it would turn out after kicking it off in the back of his car with a paper plate full of snacks and the countdown on his phone? You’d made it through another year, together. 
“Do you know what I just realized?” you asked as you unpacked the bag from El Diablito at the kitchen counter. In the background, the low hum of commentators on the TV remarking about how different this year was provided a steady buzz amidst familiar scenery of lights in different cities. Berlin had gone first, then London, and now, gradually, the new year on the east coast was gliding ever closer. 
“What?” he asked over the noise of him unfurling the bag of tortilla chips. 
“This was our first year together,” you said. “Full--” you drew an arc through the air-- “year, I mean. Saying it and all that.” 
He didn’t say anything, but when you looked at him the corner of his mouth was lifted up slightly. “S’pose it is, yeah. Feels like longer.” He fished a chip out with his index and middle fingers before crunching into it noisily. 
“Almost three years of everything else,” you murmured, unwrapping a taco to inspect it. “This one’s yours.” 
“‘Everything else’?” he teased, snickering when you slid the taco across the counter to him. “Watch it, it’ll fall apart….” 
“Shut up and eat,” you said and he barked a laugh, grin permanent and eyes sparkling as he unwrapped it to peek.
“In a minute,” he said, setting down his food, satisfied it looked right. “Come here,” he said.
“Why?” you asked, smiling slightly though you eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want?”
He motioned with his hand. “C’mere a minute,” he repeated, voice light but eyes tight, and he swallowed hard. A cold wave washed down you from head to toe. You didn’t know why you were suddenly so nervous, but the nerves themselves spiked your anxiety and made your scalp prickly and your palms sweaty, and they got worse when he grabbed one of your hands -- your left hand -- to hold between his. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about summat.” 
Oh, God. 
“Harry,” you said, but he shook his head.
“Lemme do this.” 
Five seconds. Five seconds was all it took to imagine the words coming out of his mouth, quietly, with soft, trusting eyes waiting patiently, hopefully for an answer. Five seconds was all it took for you to imagine mucking it all up with a twisted tongue, not because you weren’t sure what to say, but how to say it. No, no, no -- you didn’t want to hurt him, not even temporarily, not even by accident. 
Clearing his throat, he squeezed your hand. “I dunno how to do this,” he said, and for the first time ever, you were pretty sure he laughed without his eyes. You made a noise in your throat and curled your fingertips into his palm. “I love you,” he continued, Adam’s apple bobbing, lips trying and failing to form a smile. He was terrified, but determined, and you held his hand tighter while pressing your opposite one into his cheek.
I love you, too. You couldn’t say it, but you felt them swelling in your chest, growing your heart not two, not even three, but six times over. 
He opened and closed his mouth a few times before saying, “M’going to spend the rest of my life with you,” with a thoughtful quality in his rasp. “I think, if-- if that’s somethin’ you….”
You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t, you were trying, but it was like sucking in helium. 
“So, m’kind of wondering if--”
“Harry--”
“I’m not,” he shook his head. “I’m not asking you anything right now, because we’re not ready.” He rubbed the back of your hand assuringly. “We’re not ready, you have… and I’m….” He exhaled sharply, dropping his head, and your hand moved from his cheek to his hair and you rubbed the back of his neck. “I just want to know,” he said, breathing heavily, with his voice muffled into his chest, talking very fast, barreling through and tripping over words, “if I’m totally off base here. Cause m’not gonna now when there’s so much shit happening, but like… I don’t want to put my foot in my mouth when-- if I do, so if I could just get an idea of what you think, because we had a talk once but now every time you cut me off at the knees and--”
He sputtered, stopping short, and you pressed your face into his short hair. 
“I want it,” you said, sounding braver than you felt admitting wants out loud. “I do. I will.” 
His shoulders fell with his slow, deep breaths, and you rubbed your fingertips into his scalp gently.
“I will,” you say. “Promise,” you added, voice cracking. “You’re not off base.”
Neither of you said anything for a while. You couldn’t -- you quite literally, physically couldn’t -- and he was gulping for air as quietly as he could. 
“Okay,” he said into his chest finally, sounding inexplicably embarrassed. “S’good to know.”
Silly, silly man. Did he really think… did he doubt…? “I love you,” you murmured. 
“I know,” he said. “I know y’do.”
“No, you don’t.” You kissed his head. “I love you, I-- you’ll never know.” 
Harry took a deep breath before straightening up, head high and curls falling over his forehead above the weariest, most agonized eyes you’d ever seen. His cheeks were bright red, and he might as well have just run a marathon for how spent and miserable he looked. 
“I promise,” you repeated. “I promise, honey.”
He nodded slightly, mouth still set in a thin, grim line, and, instinctively, you stepped in to kiss him, because no. No, that wouldn’t do. Stiff and unmoving at first under your lips, gradually he warmed and softened, releasing your hand to grab your hips and you moaned softly, hands running across his shoulders over his hoodie. You promised -- when it was right, when you both could, if he asked and it was what you both wanted? There was only one answer you’d ever give. 
The stool scraped against the floor when he stood, but he never broke the kiss, and you squeaked when you stumbled back against the counter. You opened your mouth wider when he coaxed you to, dizzy behind your closed eyes, and you let your hands wander freely, pulling him into you as the intensity behind the kiss escalated from comfort to need.
Two weeks. Two weeks -- three -- of pent up energy. Of hardly being able to touch each other, of being close but not close enough. 
“Come here,” he demanded in a mumble, the firm hold he had on your jaw to hold you in place as he kissed you the way he wanted leaving you breathless. Rarely did he ever do that; usually, he guided you into what you both wanted to build it until the bubble of tension popped. There was something thrilling about being told though -- something that reminded you of when you were new, three months instead of almost three years in. Something that was like when time was limited and you had to be efficient to learn each other and what would feel good and do good for the other and yourselves, and telling was sometimes all you had. 
Harry broke away with a wounded little noise and you blinked, dazed. “M’just….” He grabbed two tacos with one hand and threw them back into the paper bag. “M’moving these.” Tacos, nachos, and burritos all went back in, topped off with the chips, and he shoved them aside with some impatience. You laughed breathily and lifted yourself up onto the counter with his help, but it faded when he stepped between your legs and cupped your cheek and jaw and you caught a glimpse of the blown pupils and flushed cheeks that gave him a wild, primal look before your own eyes shut. 
Each and every tender sponging of his lips across your jaw and down your neck made you ache, and it was all you could do to stay upright and not collapse back, limp from how weak you were. His needy, mesmerized groans made your belly tighten, and when he tugged the hem of your shirt you nodded. 
Shirt, sweatshirt, bra, and undershirt were the first to go, and the straps had no sooner fallen down your shoulders than you let out a wordless, guttural shout from deep in your chest when Harry latched on and sucked your nipple with greedy enthusiasm, moving with you when you squirmed, his stubble scraping the soft skin of your breast. 
“Oh my God,” you gasped, eyes watering and elbow nearly buckling underneath you in your effort to hold yourself up. “Yes, please,” you said when he pulled the strings on your sweats. 
“That’s my girl,” he said, releasing with a pop and latching on again. “That’s my girl… gonna make it better for you.” He stood tall again when he pulled by the waistline, and you wriggled until they were at your knees and you could kick them off the rest of the way with your underwear as he dropped his own to his ankles. 
With nothing left between you, you shivered, shrinking into him when he stepped closer and drew his hands around your body in a circuit. Legs first, stomach, back, breasts, shoulders, arms, and repeat, each squeeze and dig of his hands and fingers just a little restrained and not as zealous as his groans and heavy breathing made him out to be -- like he was trying to be good, or patient, or….
“It’s ok,” you murmured between kisses. “You don’t have to wait.” They’d done the waiting -- more than enough of it. You just wanted him now.
“Sure?” Harry rasped and you nodded, eyes rolling up when he slipped his fingers between you both and they slipped up and down your folds. “Sure,” he confirmed under his breath. “Open a little more for me, love-- there we are, thank you.” 
You folded your arms around his neck and over his back and locked your ankles loosely just under his ass, heart racing in your chest. 
“Breathe in--” Harry murmured and you squeezed your eyes shut when he fit his head against your entrance. It slid and you laughed, kissing his jaw when he kissed your brow through his grin. “Deep breath for me.” 
Every time. He did that almost every time with you, first asking for a deep breath and then, invariably, pulling a long exhale from you when he thrust into your warm, wet cunt. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered in awe, holding still. You could feel the tremors pulling each fiber in his muscles, and when he throbbed inside you, you bit your lip. “Holy shit, you’ve got me good,” he groaned. 
You laughed once. “Yeah.” Yeah, something like that. Wincing, you rolled your hips forward and gasped softly from the stretch before tightening your arms and pressing your face against his hot skin. You nuzzled in between your own slow, lingering kisses, taking deep, grounding breaths. He was soft, and smooth, but firm, and hard, and he smelled amazing. Clean -- all soap and cologne with some detergent that smelled even more from the warmth of his skin. 
“Oh, God,” you whispered. “Oh, God, I--” You sucked in a harsh breath, abdomen tightening as you pulsed around him, feeling wetter, and you moved your face higher, nose pressed into the base of his sheared hair as you moaned quietly. “Oh my God, I love you.” Pitchy, bordering on hysteria, but you’d be hard pressed to remember a time you felt it as much as you meant it like you did right then. “I love you, I love-- I-- you feel--” Good. Better than good. No one had ever fit like he had -- too much, but just enough, physically, mentally, emotionally. 
“I love….” Harry gulped. “Shit, ok, m’gonna….” He made to pull his shoulders back, but you shook your head. 
“No, no, stay,” you begged, wrapping your arms and legs tighter. “Stay, please,” you murmured. 
“I can’t-- ok,” he panted. “Lemme….” He gripped your ass and pulled you closer and your back arched as you opened your thighs just a little more. “There we go,” he grunted, hips snapping forward as he finally moved. “That’s… fuck, that’s better now.” 
You could hear the effort you could feel between your legs -- each sharp pull of breath between his teeth, each muted grunt between his driving thrusts, and the pants he let out when he had to stop for a moment to catch his breath. “M’ok,” he said every time between labored gulps for air. “M’good, I just need to--” and he grit his teeth before he began again, and again, you gasped and whimpered, shrinking closer to him. 
You didn’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, now or ever. You didn’t want to be this close to anyone else again ever. This was never supposed to happen. He was never supposed to meet you, know you, fall in love with you, nor you with him, but now he had, and you were, and you couldn’t imagine it any other way. You couldn’t imagine a world in which he didn’t come home to you, for you, and where you weren’t there. Not waiting -- never waiting on a man, any man, but ready for him when he returned and ready to move forward together. 
He was yours. He was yours, and you were his, and the mere thought pulled something behind your belly button, making you groan.
“What?” he asked, kissing the side of your head. “What, darling, what?”
“I’m gonna cum,” you whispered and then whimpered, tightening your hold around his neck and in his hair. “Harry--” you choked, shuddering with your deep breaths.
“I know.” He grunted, thrusting with slightly more power. “Fuck! Tight little--”
“Don’t stop,” you begged. “Don’t stop, I’m close, I’m so-- I just need--” Faster and faster you rolled your hips against his, crying out against him when he wedged his thumb between you both to catch your clit, a stream of mumbled, “I’m gonna cum, you’re making me cum,” confessions hidden in his neck. Deep breaths. Long, slow, and deep, with your toes curling behind him until you were barely breathing in your efforts to concentrate, because you were right there. And then, you did cum, hard, convulsing and sucking in harshly as you trembled your way through whimpers of his name, immediately and thoroughly exhausted. 
Both his arms locked around you, then, all but crushing you to his torso in his efforts to hold you up, and he thrust hard, fast, deep, getting the right rhythm and stroke he needed. Barely able to keep your eyes open, your mouth moved soundlessly around the demand -- request -- to cum. Cum, Harry, cum, baby, please. Wordlessly, he sputtered through a sharp exhale, and it was the only indication before you felt the hot, wet release accompanying his groans.
“Fuck,” he choked, one of his hands landing hard on the counter to prop both of you up. You laughed, eyes rolling up, and you held on tightly through his turn to shake. 
“Happy New Year,” you said, still feeling a little punch-drunk from your orgasm.
He nodded. “H-Happy--” he gulped. “Happy New Year, darling.” His shoulders slumped. “Reckon this was the problem,” he said. “Should’ve fuckin’ rung the year in right last time, y’know?” 
“Right,” you breathed even as you shook your head, not quite caught up with what he was saying. 
“M’only sayin’,” he said. “We had sex the one time last Christmas. Should’ve had… a bit more,” he said indeterminately. 
“We haven’t had sex since you’ve been home.” 
Sighing heavily, he kissed your shoulder. “S’pose we’d better start,” he slurred. “S’not the new year yet.” 
367 notes · View notes
kenganparadise · 4 years ago
Note
Hi! first I wanted to say that I love your blog, I am very happy to see that there is content for this anime. Did I want to request some headcanons? Like, dating Raian. If you don't do headcanons, maybe a drabble of him introducing his s/o to his family.
I decided to write Raian’s S/O meeting his family for the first time!! I was feeling a little fluffy today! I hope you enjoy!! ❤️
Raian was actually in a very sour mood. He peeked behind the corner to see you checking yourself in the mirror again. You made sure all the wrinkles were out of your clothes and all the pieces of lint and pet hair were cleared away. You check your hair again. Fluffing it and trying to fix it. “UGHhhh. I already told you 1000 times- you look fuckin’ HOT.” Raian yelled from the other room. You paused in surprise then sighed. “I don’t want to look hot. I want to look respectable and.... honorable.” You say. You look down at your feet. There was a pit in your stomach. You were very nervous. But Nervous wasn’t a good word to describe how you were feeling. You and Raian have been dating for a long time. He’s met all your family and friends. You have yet to meet his. You had heard rumors and the legends of the Kure clan. A tight knit family of assassin, literally bred to kill. You just so happened to be dating the most powerful one. You heard of their selective breeding. You wondered if they’ll deem you good enough. You wondered if you’re good enough yourself. Raian noticed your mood dampen. You look smaller. He clicks his tongue. You sigh deeply as the thoughts swim in your head. What if they didn’t like you? You jumped feeling strong arms wrap around your waist. Raian’s forehead was in the crook of your neck and shoulder. Your heart leaped at the affection. This.... was very very very rare. Raian barely ever reciprocated your affection, let anyone be the first to act. Your breath catches in your throat. You know he’ll never say the words out loud, but this was enough comfort. Raian sunk his teeth lightly into your skin. It didn’t hurt, but it was enough to leave a small mark. He pulled away from you then. Maybe he was feeling sheepish. “Come on! We don’t want to keep those fuckers waiting.” He snarls over his shoulder. You miss the feeling of his warm arms around you, but it was enough to leave a smile on your face. You followed behind him.
The journey to Kure village was mostly silent, apart from Raian complaining a little here and there. Stepping into the village was nerve wracking. So many people with black scleras, you knew the majority were assassin. Some of them gave glances to Raian. He seemed bored- almost like he didn’t want to be here. “Raian?” You look at him. “What?” He replies not even looking your way. “Can I hold your hand?” You ask in your sweetest voice. “Fuck no.” His reply was a little quicker than you’d like it to be. “Come on Please.” You bat your eyelashes. “Fuck. No.” “Pleaseeee Raian.” You beg sweetly again. He growls under his breath. “Fuck no. I don’t want the fuckers thinking I’ve gone soft to something.” His nose curls at the thought “I’ll make it up to you later~” you purr. His ears perk up a little. His lips twitch into a Frown. “Fuck. Only for a little bit.” He agrees begrudgingly. He takes your hand roughly into his. You’ve got a goofy grin on your face and Raian is feeling completely and utterly embarrassed and slightly humiliated. Unbeknownst to you.... deep down in Raian’s heart he feels warmth. If eyes weren’t on you already they definitely were now. It made you even more nervous. Everywhere you looked black eyes were stuck on you, People whispered amongst themselves. You’re anxious now. You tried to catch whispers and the mutterings but you weren’t able to. “Hey! Bro!!” You heard from behind you. You spin around to see a young woman running towards you. “I heard you arrived! I’ve been looking all over for you!” She chuckles and catches her breath. She’s a petite you’ll girl with short black hair. she looks straight at you. “You! You must be Y/N!” Her face beams. “Oh! Yes-“ you’re cut off by the woman bear hugging you. You gasp and awkwardly return the hug. She takes your hands in hers. “You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to meeting you!” She says with a smile. “I’m Fusui! I’m Raian’s sister!” She beams. You knew Raian had a sister, he’s talked (complained) about her before. Now here she was standing before you. “I’ll walk with you guys to Erioh!” She says with a smile. You intertwine your fingers with his again. Raian clicks his tongue. Fusui had a gleam in her eyes watching the two of you. Fusui struck up a conversation with you while you walked. She was kind, and genuinely excited to be talking to you. The three of you walked past a building. There more people called for your attention. You looked to see three strong looking men. They introduced themselves politely, Hollis, reiichi, and Horio. You noticed there was a stark difference between Raian and the other Kure members. They were polite and quite kind to you. Most of them were actually excited to meet you. After a brief conversation with the three men you decided to make your way to the main building. Erioh was there- the head of the Kure clan. You were the most nervous to meet him.
Heading into the palace-like building your heart started skipping beats. Raian and Fusui lead you through the building to the room where the head of the Kure was. He was sitting at a table alone with tea. He looked up at you from his teacup. “Hello, you must be Y/N.” He spoke calmly, with a small kind smile. You nodded. “It’s very night to meet you.” You reply. Erioh motions you to sit next to him. You and Fusui join him at the table. Raian goes and sits on the far side of the room, away from the conversation. Erioh pours a cup of tea for you and Fusui. “What do you do for work, Y/N?” He begins. He asks you question after question, about your family, hobbies, even your political beliefs. You can’t help but feel as though you’re being interrogated, the only thing that helped was Fusui lightening the mood with her quips. You were nervous, but answered truthfully. You hoped your answers would suffice. You heard the door open behind you. “Hi grandpa!” A young girl walked in. “Oh hello Karla my dear!” He says. His mood significantly changes. She sits down at an empty space next to you. “Karla this is Y/N, they are Raian’s mate... his remarkably better half!” Fusui jokes. Karla’s attention turns to you. “Oh wow! So when are you guys getting married!!” She says beaming. You nearly choke. Raian does as well behind you. “How many babies are you gonna make?” She radiates with wonder. “Now now Karla, those may not be questions Y/N wants to give to a stranger.” Erioh chuckles. You laugh awkwardly, not knowing what to say. You downed the rest of your teacup. Then you felt a presence behind you. “I’m tired as fuck of this. We’re going home.” Raian said gruffly. Fusui sighed and stood with you. “It was very nice meeting you, Y/N. I hope to see you again soon.” Erioh says with a tender smile. “Bye bye Y/N!” Karla says waving. Fusui walks out with you but Raian hesitates a moment. He knew Erioh had something to say. “You’ve found a good one... don’t lose them.” Erioh says as Raian huffs and walks away. “Shut the fuck up gramps.” Raian growls, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Fusui walks with you out of Kure village. The two of you laugh together, you’ve felt a bond grow between you two. You end up exchanging numbers. You hugged her again goodbye, promising to call. Then you and Raian left. The journey back was once again quiet. But you felt an overwhelming feeling of relief. Raian’s family had welcomed you. They too, we’re finally relieved to meet the only person who was able to tame the devil himself. Your name will go down in Kure history.
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