#eternals x teen reader
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Ajak explaining the plan: And most importantly, remember these words, “Don’t lose Y/n”. Ok?
Sersi: Where’s Y/n?
Bonus:
Gilgamesh: Where’s Thena and Ikaris?
Druig: Ajak! Thena and Y/n’s murdering Ikaris!!
#source: hawkeye#eternals mcu#incorrect eternals quotes#ikaris#thena#gilgamesh#sersi x ikaris#ajak eternals#makkari x druig#eternals x teen reader#marvel incorrect quotes#incorrect marvel cinematic universe#incorrect marvel quotes#avengers incorrect quotes#incorrect avengers#druig x you
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A LIL QUICK EXPO/CONTEXT ON THE THRESH THING BC I WILL TRY TO BE OFF SOCMED TO STUDY IN THE FOLLOWING DAYS BUT—
Basically it all starts w him rescuing u u intentionally but that’s partially the beginning. This just sparks ur interest when few creeps who were harassing u are suddenly pulled away and killed, their souls harvested by The Collector everyone always speaks in fear of.
With time and as discreet as u can be, u begin to follow him and watch with fascination as he collects each soul- be it the way they glimmer and bloom in his lantern, how quickly he transforms and reveals his true form when doing his ‘art’, the way he Carries himself, acts and how the life leaves the eyes of those in mere moments is captivating- thus begins your fascination and obsession with the person representing the spirit of obsession.
His, in return, begins much later than yours; not paying much mind to you before he opts to go on with his deeds and bringing misfortune to those who were u fortunate enough to cross his path. Only one day when your familiar watchful eyes are missing that he grows curious, soon hears a third voice that doesn’t belong to you nor himself- seeing some mere mortals dare speak, bother and harass what he has by now considered a part of his life, belonging to him; he attacks them in a rush and rescues you for a second time.
Letting go of the physical boundaries and in respect to his you held all this time, you run to his side and embrace him at his (once again, unintentional) display of something akin to care.
From then on you both return to what you were, only broken with him occasionally agreeing to your offers of having a drink or a meal. Not that he cares for food like mortals do but it is amusing to watch you eat, drink and talk about your day as if you don’t spend all your time tailing him around and thinking of him (you’d probably let out a loud “HEY” at his claim with flushed cheeks, he muses)
The mutual obsession blooms into full moon when he rolls his eyes one day and taps the space near him, signaling for you to sit there- an offer you happily take up on, and in the blink of an eye too; before he can pull his hand back to himself, you’re already glued next to him, your calf resting against his leg- its best he doesn’t know it yet that were it not for you to rush to his side clumsily, you’d try and sit on his leg, preferably on his lap- but you’re not exactly dying to test his patience when he has just warmed up to physical affection just yet.
#he considered trapping your soul to carry with him all eternity but came to enjoy the warmth and comfort of your physical body next to him#and the sound waves that reach his ears and vibrate whenever you talk in that singsong voice as if you’re a teen talking to their lover and#not the mfing warden of souls. you’re odd but hmhavin#you’re odd* but having you around has more pros than cons. and a pretty face to look at no less.#danyl talks#thresh lol#lol bs#spirit blossom thresh#league x reader#league of legends x reader
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my heart did | jjk
jeon jungkook x reader (f)
genre: e2l | bully romance | smut | angst
rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)
summary: as soon as senior years comes to an end a lot of teens shed who we were and strive to be flourish into a more polished version of themselves. although, broken hearts aren’t so quick to heal what happens when thoughts reveal all we need to know?
warnings: lets begin.. themes and mentions of bullying; brief physical violence; brief mention of blood; bickering; denial of feelings; mention of less than ideal parents; cliche high school themes (in flashbacks); foul language; oral (m. receiving); penetrative and unprotected sex; clitoral stimulation; nipple play; thigh riding; vag fingering; overstimulation; sub!jjk themes - he is a good boy; he uh.. arrives on her face.. anyways; i hate this trope ugh but miscommunication; jjk has a big d!; not edited.
word count: 25,5 thousand words
posted: wed sept. 6, 2023 at 12:28PM
notable songs: like i want you - giveon | thinkin bout you - frank ocean | like or like like - miniature tiger | war of hearts - ruelle | sunday morning - maroon5 🎧
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The sun is now setting.
Behind you as the last hours of the late summer evening approached the sun was beginning to finally pucker its lips against the horizon, as a result, the sky became dusted with hints of deep orange, yellow and purple. The clock finally struck nine o’clock and you couldn’t help but slump down on the palms of your hands, sitting behind the main desk on the same stool you had been since the beginning of your shift. Your pupils followed as the little hands on the clock hung on the opposite wall seemed to move slower and slower, completely freezing you in time.
Fucking Mondays.
You sighed. When you had initially signed up for the work study position at the library you thought things would be just a bit different.
For example, you thought being a staff member here would get you free access to course books and materials but that wasn’t the case. Right before you’d been hired, some idiot named Yoongi who worked behind the help desk at the computer lab was caught selling copies of the course materials to multiple students on campus.
Like—right before you were hired and now that privilege had been swiped right off the tip of your fingers the moment your member badge had been printed.
Secondly, time behind that rotating door at the main entrance just stopped. No, more like slammed down on the brakes abruptly the moment you crossed that threshold. There were no warnings or brake lights or even a bright sign to apprise in advance.
Another drawn out sigh escaped your lips.
There was no exaggeration in your boredom, however, besides the ‘promises’ of saving money on school materials vanishing entirely, you still needed the monetary earnings so you hid behind a fabricated smile and immediately accepted the job offer happily.
Well, as happily as you could be.
God, you were jaded. Five after nine. Only five minutes had gone by yet it felt like an eternity.
Your mind was on overdrive yet your body remained stationed in the same exact place—in the same exact position. Not a single tendon transposed and they constricted your muscles in place. You were there sort of glued to the metal surface of the stool but fuck did you wanted to move.
Needed to actually. You needed a sort of mobile stimulation but still you couldn’t seem to get your arms and legs to comply. Not until your focus circled around your extremities and your need to just fucking. . do something.
You crossed your legs to the left, then to the right, then you hung your legs on the wooden bar under the desk to give them a rest from just hanging on your side, then you sat with your legs spread open before realizing you wore a skirt and you quickly pressed your thighs together tightly. Shift after shift you grew more angsty, more impatient, more exasperated with the sluggish speed the hours of the night adopted.
Slowly, you reached into your bag and unwrapped a piece of gum before sticking it in your mouth. You chewed slowly. Seven after nine, only two minutes have gone by since you last looked at the time.
Okay, maybe if you number your chews to the rhythm of each second then time will somehow speed by. Right? You began your countdown backwards from sixty.
You chewed down on the watermelon flavored stick of gum. Sixty.
Again, fifty-nine.
And, again, fifty-eight.
Once more, fifty-seven.
In just a matter of minutes the sky behind you turned pitch black and finally the stars came out to play, they pranced around dancing in the sparkling delight and you couldn’t really help but envy their freedom as they lived without confinement.
“Tell me something. .” You quickly registered that irritating tone, that very familiar and insipid, absolutely annoying and vexing tone. The same one which sent a bubbling shot of acid to course into your bloodstream every time you were faced with the disdain of hearing it, “should I reprint you a copy of the employee manual? Last time I checked skirts above the knee and gum chewing are strictly prohibited in the work place.”
You leaned your head to the side, narrowing your eyes in his direction as he stood by the doorframe, “you’re not the supervisor, let alone the manager,” you murmured through gritted teeth, “fuck off.”
He shook his head slowly while clicking his tongue. He was mocking you, the little shit was mocking you, “Not a manager. Just someone who likes to enforce the rules especially comes to you.”
“Rule enforcer?” you scoffed, chewing louder and louder as you chomped down, purposefully smacking your gum in the process, “sounds a lot like you being a little bitch. I guess it’s all just the same to me.”
“Bitch?” he guffawed.
“Yes, that’s what I said,” you challenged.
“Mini skirt, gum chewing, and foul language. You’re really making this so easy for me,” he mocked.
The extent of your interactions were always, always, reduced to this. Just the endless streaks of taunting, the continuity of poking at each other buttons beyond forgiveness, and to top it all of the boiling irritation cooking up in the pit of your stomach.
As far back as you could remember there wasn’t an ounce of amiability in the mixture of your interactions together.
You and him met the summer before the ninth grade. From there on you knew him once classes began. Well ‘knew’ was a very loose term in this situation. The two of you were just teens, fifteen years old to be exact, in the same school, in the same home room, yet from different cliques.
His brown eyes drank you in like he was consuming every inch of your soul—it was invasive, intimidating, and exactly what you deserved. Deep down you were one hundred-percent sure of the fact.
“What?” you barked.
“Just remembering the good old time,” he smirked, “the ones where words remain your preferred and deadliest weapon.”
What transpired from that night was nothing compared to his cold gaze and punctured words.
Faint lights of that night sparkled into memory, years have passed but you remember every detail as if it was just yesterday.
The school bathroom was your least favorite place in the building, it was usually crowded with destined criminals, the stench was horrid and it was the obvious root of every ridiculous rumor to ever be birthed within the walls of Oakwood High School.
You leaned against the white ceramic sink, your back faced the stained plastic mirror as you faced him sitting on top of the toilet tank. He was the personification of trouble, the very synonym of everything you needed to stay away from.
The two of you came from two different worlds.
He was draped and wrapped up in a black hoodie, complemented by dark distressed jeans while his rugged and muddy boots stained found camp on the toilet seat, staining it beyond repair.
“What exactly is it that you need from me?” he asked, his tone wasn’t as stern or deep as you usually heard around the halls. There was a slight stutter; a falter.
“It’s more than one thing,” you exhaled, your eyes flickered between him and the stall just to the right of him, “. .that I need from you.”
He hummed, “go on.”
The sun trickled in through the foggy windows and it embellished very detail, every feature that you had never once before noticed on the boy before you. His eyes were giant orbs almost doe like, his lips were a deep taint of roseate the same one which dusted the apples of his cheeks. There was a certain delicate look behind the dark aura he cemented within himself.
You took paced steps in his direction feeling just a bit dizzy the closer you became.
Perhaps, it was that overbearing piss smell.
Or, perhaps, you just didn’t want to go through with this. You wanted to call this off but there was this fervent exhilaration burning just below your skin—you wanted to continue speaking to him, you wanted to envelop yourself in the softness of his lips.
But this wasn’t right but you couldn’t help the guidance of your feet, until finally you stood right before him.
Up close his eyes were prettier, shinier yet darker and you easily found yourself swimming in them engulfed in vastness simulating the bottomless sea.
He was everything you wanted and everything you needed to stay away from.
Two different people. Two different worlds.
“Are you going to tell me what you need?”
“I think,” your palm landed on his knee for support as you climbed onto the toilet seat taking a seat on his lap, “it’s much better if I show you.”
By now, and by the radicle of his reputation you expected for him to push you right off his life, for him to gargle the disgust in the back of his throat and regurgitate it right back on you. But he didn’t instead his gaze intently followed you every move, he probably already noticed your quivering figure hiding behind your confident facade.
There was no shaking off this nervousness, even but in your mind you reminded yourself that you were you and he was simply him.
“Show me what exactly?” he swallowed, his Adam's bobbed distinctively, “you know this is the first time you’ve ever uttered a single word in my direction.”
“I highly doubt that,” you hid your nervousness behind the security of your confident tone.
“It’s true,” he continued, “I bet you have never even noticed that my locker is directly across from yours.”
“Wait. .” You hooked your bait, hanging it low over his head attempting to reel him in once and for all, “do you spend your time in the halls looking at me?”
“I never said—“
Your palms found their way up to towards the back of his neck and you inched closer to his face vividly detailing the golden tone of his glowing skin.
You never noticed before, he was always an arm’s length away, which was probably your fault to begin with, but he was truly beautiful.
“You did kind of imply it.”
“I don’t think it works that way.”
“Does to me.”
His eyes remained on your lips as you tucked your lower lip under your upper teeth. There was an unreadable expression ignited behind his pupils, something you’ve never seen before, not behind the frigid gaze of your best friends and it certainly wasn’t present in the way your boyfriend looked at you either.
It held the comfort of tenderness and it wrapped you right into his warm embrace.
“You know, you keep averting my question.”
“Remind me, once again,” you smiled softly, “what is it that you wanted to know.”
“What do you want to show me?” you pursed out your lower lip before licking them agonizingly slowly to almost emphasize their plumpness. While coating them in a thin layer of the sheen shininess from your saliva. That put him in a trance, his eyes were locked on you intently. It’s working.
“Kiss me,” you whispered, your lips hovered right over his, the waft of your paced breath fanned one another. His mouth was enveloped with the cool aromatic scent of mint. You liked that a lot—it drew you in.
He froze against the white tiled wall behind him, his eyes were closed and he waited in anticipation of your lips finally meeting his. Instead, you took the liberty of snapping a mental picture. One you knew you would hang in the forefront of your mind for a very very long time, because after today, after the tones of both of your pink lips finally meshed together everything would go to shit.
And it would all be your fault.
“For someone who’s begging to kiss me you sure are taking your sweet time.”
The pads of your fingers brushed against his velvet lips as they spread wide depicting his smile, in turn you’d notice the way that very smile trickled to everyone of his features. From the dimples impaling his honey cheeks to his scrunched up nose and brows scrunched up together.
“I’m not begging,” you objected, laying against his chest—he was broad you could tell even under the dark clothes and he felt firm. All you wanted was to be cocooned in his heated touch.
Even in the scorching summer his warmth is.. a solace. You didn’t mind being consumed by it burning in the flames ignited by his touch.
“I asked. Just curious to know if you would even want to kiss me,” say no, run away, run away from me, you yelled at him in your head.
“Curious?”
You hummed, “So.. Do you wanna?”
“Kiss you?”
You hummed again, “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage. It’s just one kiss.”
“Just a kiss?” He asks a lot of questions.
“Okay,” he breathed.
There were many things you forbid yourself from submitting to at the expense of your insatious desires. This included consuming sweets past eight o’clock, drinking any type of soda, and even suppressing anything you’ve ever felt for anyone in return for the validation of others. Deep behind the rhythmic beating of your heart you knew this should’ve also included kissing him. You knew you should’ve backed off, said no, avoided him as if he was something you ran away from.
But you couldn’t help but be guided here by the pure delight of getting to have this for once. You wanted to be selfish and drown in those very desires you didn’t dare act on prior to today. Not under self-induced circumstances instead something you know could hurt him right after you pulled away from his lips.
You were a wretched person but all you think about, all you cared about was the way he inched closer towards you, rapidly closing the gap between the two of you. The only sounds bouncing off the walls were your needy pants and the thump thump which composed a song out of the beats of both of your racing hearts.
His head tilted slightly as he leaned in, his eyes explored every inch of your face taking in every depiction of your features. And no matter how many times you could attempt to hide it—he would know. He could clearly see the birth of the flames rampant behind the tones of your eyes.
He nudged his nose against yours, and your mouths fell together, soft and open. You closed your eyes instantly and they felt heavy, almost as if your eyelids were glued together. Though, you urged to open them, to live in every single second your lips remained connected with his, because you knew this wasn’t likely to happen again. Not after today. Not ever.
You couldn’t help but want to bear witness to the perfectness of your lips dancing against one another.
His mouth was silken, you found yourself melting into his body, into his lips, into his touch. Nobody had ever kissed you with the unspoken one passion he was.
No one. Certainly not your boyfriend.
You allowed yourself to become drunk under his trance and he fed the butterflies flapping their wings against the lining of your stomach rapidly.
You wanted to camp in the fondness of that moment forever, and ever. and ever. . .
Vacating the stool you stood by the large windows facing the parking lot behind the library. However, your attention was clutched by the sparkling stars, it was a form of a distraction. You wanted to stop thinking of him, his gaze seizing your figure tracing the outline of your legs, the curves and dips between your hips and waist and finally the sneaky peaks of your collar bones under your crop top.
His eyes were hard to read making it impossible to decipher whether he undressed you or condemned your being.
Though, you knew you deserved the latter.
“Words were never my weapon,” you whispered the fib hoping that you would believe it if you heard it outloud. It didn’t work.
He chuckled, “right. . your lips were the blades that pierced my heart and your words were the bullets that finished me off.”
“Jungkook. .” you trailed off.
“What?” he spat, “can’t handle the truth?”
Fuck, that hurt but you deserved it.
“Jungkook, just shut up.”
But his back was already turned towards you and his eyes no longer scanned you like you were the phrases typed on the pages of his favorite book.
“I’m so. .” you began but you just couldn’t get it out.
“There it is again,” Jungkook shook his head, clicking his tongue.
“That’s not what I meant,” you sighed, collecting your thoughts why did you always manage to say the wrong fucking thing, “I’m just trying to apologize to you for. . everything.”
“Right. . now?” he wore a puzzled expression, his eyes squinted with skepticism. Back in highschool Jungkok was quiet, shy and mysterious. He could’ve easily flown under the radar and lived his life in the seclusion of being a wallflower. But then you happened. You in that bathroom, on his lap with his lips on yours.
Even now, years later, you could still feel their phantom softness on yours.
You played with the loose thread on the hem of your top averting the scrutiny of the judgment in his eyes, “better late than never.”
“You put me through hell and I’m supposed to act as if all is forgiven. Today, because you can no longer live with that guilt?” there was a smirk plastered on his face while traces of venom laced his words.
“That’s not the reason why…”
“Then, why… Why?”
Words failed to roll off the tip of your tongue, and there was a cloud of shame hanging over your head but Jungkook was resentful and cold with his words and you knew that at this point your apology would do nothing to fix what was already broken. Nevertheless, you stood there like a child being scolded because the least you could do was be the receiver of his resentment.
“Are you looking for a shot at self redemption? To feel better about yourself? Or maybe the guilt really is eating you bit by bit. Whatever it may be I don’t forgive you and I never will. You wanna know why? Because unlike others I’m not convinced that people like you can change,” he continued, there was a rampant anger burning in his eyes now, “you look back on our time in high school and feel this sense of. . relief that you were who you were. There is not an ounce of your being that would go back and change things and if we were to turn back time you would still choose to be the viper who could go around injecting your venom into others at free will. I know you just want to leap over that stepping stone and prove to yourself that you have grown-up but you can’t fool me and you will not make an example out of me.”
“That’s not. .” you drifted off, tears swelled behind your eyelids but you blinked them away, “That’s not why I wanted to do Jungkook. .”
“No?” he asked.
“No,” you muttered through gritted teeth, mad at your past self for being a piece of shit, mad at him for not allowing you to speak, mad at life. Everything.
“You want me to forgive you?”
You remained quiet.
“Then, beg.”
“You know what?” You quickly wiped the tear that trickled down your heated cheek, “I actually did mean to apologize but I’m not sure that you actually deserve it anymore.”
They say what comes around goes around and you were certain this was the circle of justice you would forever be looped in the extent of your interactions with Jungkook because, this is pretty much how they always played out. He would never forgive you and you would never be able to form the right words to ease the pain of what you have caused. There wasn’t anything that you could do or say.
Things would always remain this way.
He turned away from you once again, “if I don’t deserve your apology that only proves you don’t deserve my forgiveness.”
You looked at the clock on the opposite wall, it was now finally thirty minutes past nine and you were due to go home. To be embraced by the comfort of your sheets, to bask in their warmth, something less chilling than his frigid words.
Grabbing your bag you slipped past him hoping that you would now stoop to becoming nothing but an insipid wallflower.
Entirely, invisible. That’s all you wanted to be.
Fucking invisible.
Your cloak of invisibility was short lived because as soon as you crossed the threshold to your dorm you were met with a crowded living room. Amongst the faceless features of the random strangers spread out in the tiny space you spotted a similar face belonging to the biggest pain in your ass and roommate adjacent, Hobi.
You trudge through the ocean of bodies, resisting the sway of the waves leading to bump to those in your way, simply wanting to get as far away from whatever this was as soon as possible. When Hobi’s eyes finally met yours you signaled him towards using your pointer finger—quickly, his smile dropped, beads of sweat adorned his temples and his head hung low.
A party on a Monday was… Definitely, Hobiesque.
With paced strides he stumbled towards you following you down the small corridor and into your room. Hobi’s eyes hung low, the buttons on his shirt hung open all the way down to the pit of his stomach, his cheeks were red and puffy, his hair the right amount of disheveled, and he had a tight grasp on a nearly empty red solo cup (it definitely didn’t look like it was his first or last drink). The lights were dimmed but even under the shitty lighting there was a bright glimmer outlining his figure.
“Now, before we begin this intervention,” his words were a bit slurred, “I had a really shitty day.”
“Yeah, that makes two of us,” you hung your bag on the hook behind the door and threw your keys on the desk.
He slumped down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling with a blank expression—you weren’t sure if the shift in his usual energetic charisma was due to the alcohol but you didn’t like it. You were so used to seeing his heart shaped lips spread into wide curves showcasing the amiability of his colorful personality.
“Okay, which one of us should go first?” he asked.
“Don’t you have a party to get back to?” you sat by the pillows on the bed, your back leaning against the headboard, your legs pressed up against your chest as you laid your head on your knees.
“I’ll get back in a minute,” he replied nonchalantly, “just tell me about your day.”
Hobi laid his head closer to your legs, quickly you found your fingers combing through the dark strands with a thin layer of sweat. There was a cool draft slipping in the room through the window left slightly ajar. The bittersweet flashes of your time in that library behind the main desk played back in your mind.
“I saw… spoke to Jungkook tonight,” your voice was soft, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear. You and Hobi have been friends since your senior year in school and while he wasn’t there for the horrid days of your freshman year tyranny you confessed to everything you had done during those dark days—everything that happened with Jungkook.
“Spoke?”
You nodded.
“You two have the same work study you’ve spoken to each other before right?”
“Yeah, but our conversations are always reduced to nonsensical banter. He pushes my buttons and I push his, sometimes we even land a few jabs at each other when the other isn’t looking but today,” you felt at ease sitting there in Hobi’s company, the only noise surrounding the two of you came from the booming of the loudspeaker stationed in the living room, “…it was personal.”
“How personal?” he continued peering up at you with idle eyes.
“I tried to apologize for, well you know.. everything,” you sighed, “and things didn’t really go as planned. Stupid of me I know.”
“Definitely, not stupid. You tried to make things right. There’s no harm in that,” his thumb rubbed your hand softly as it wrapped around your shins.
“There was definitely a lot of harm done.”
“You’re right,” he mumbled, “what you did is not justified, but all that matters is that you are trying to make things right and we can only hope he is willing to forgive.”
Jungkook’s vicious words played on a continuous loop in your head. He was not willing to forgive. He never would be and sincerely you couldn’t blame him for him.
This guilt.
It will eat you alive and as a result you will experience a slow and excruciating death. A well deserved demise and one that became written in the stars for you the moment you kissed him in that fucking bathroom.
Still, a timid smile slowly creeped on your lips. Hobi’s hopefulness is your safety net, the only thing you could ever need to keep pushing forward.
“Enough about me and my self-inflicted issues,” you cleared your throat, “what’s got you so down today, sunshine?”
“We broke up.”
You laid beside him on your bed, reaching down taking his hands into yours hoping he’d feel the same deal of comfort you do by him.
“What happened?” you offered.
“I was in my dance practice and he—“ he paused, “he just fucking texted me. Said he couldn’t do it anymore.”
“Did something happen before all of this?”
“We’ve been on a bumpy road lately,” he hesitated before continuing—you guessed it was because he was trying to structure his thoughts, “two dancers dating bring a conflict of interest into a relationship.”
“Please tell me you guys aren’t just fighting over your choreography.”
He remained silent before continuing.
“You two are going to send me into cardiac arrest,” you shook your head, “I need details, Jung.”
“Don’t call me, Jung,” Hobi poked out his lower lip, frowning, “makes me feel like I’m in trouble.”
“I can’t be mad at you when you’re so adorably tipsy,” you pinched his rosey cheeks.
“Stoooop,” he swatted your hand away from his face while stretching out the letter ‘O,’ “I’m being serious though. I think it’s really over between Jimin and I, forreal this time.”
“You’ve said that every other time the two of you have broken up over dance.”
“Right. .” he yawned, cozying up under your sheets while his eyes began to close.
“Oh, no,” you smacked him upside the head with one of your cushions, “get up and go host your little party.”
He brushed it off turning before turning away from you, his soft snores now a remix to the music playing just outside of your door, “who the fuck throws a party on a Monday. . Hoseok, get up!”
“I know, you’re so irresponsible for letting me throw a party on a weekday.”
“Bitch.”
As it turns out, kicking people an hour after a party had started wasn’t as easy as it looked. Leaning against the front door you finally came face to face with the mess left behind. The music still played, though, much lower now and there was an array of empty beer cans, red solo cups and other waste decorating your living room.
It was as if you were standing in front of the mirror looking back at yourself, you were nothing but a mess of a human being. It was uncanny.
Although, this mess you could clean, and you would, you weren’t sure if Jungkook would ever allow you to pick up all of those broken pieces that you had shattered all of those years ago.
For what it’s worth you really wanted to try. You wanted to make things right.
It is now Tuesday and the weather is horrid.
The last time you checked, the forecast called for scattered showers and mostly cloudy days. But, now it’s one in the afternoon and as you settle down on the bench by your bay window overlooking the narrow street, the sky was overtaken by the torrent clouds weeping viciously accompanied by the occasional strikes of loud thunder.
Usually, when the weather looked as shitty as you felt you opted for staying home and becoming enveloped in the comfort and warmth of your sheets, today would have been no different but of course luck is never present in the deck of cards paving your life, also having an irresponsible roommate usually doesn’t help in any way.
“Please, don’t forget my ginger ale,” he coughed dramatically, running his hand through his disheveled hair, “I can’t believe I feel like literal shit.”
“You can’t believe it?” You sneered, “you drank half of your alcohol supply before I even made it home and the party had only been on for like thirty minutes.”
“Fuck, I did that. Didn’t I?”
“You did,” you playfully yanked your covers off his body, “you drunk fuck.”
“That was my nickname in highschool,” he smiled.
“It was,” you zipped up your rain jacket and grabbed the umbrella sitting on your desk, “now go take a hot bath and don’t throw any more parties while I’m gone.”
You heard his infectious giggles as you closed the front door behind you. The two of you lived on the third floor so the walk down the stairs to the lobby wasn’t too unbearable. Through the clear doors of the main entrance in the rain you saw how the downpour fogged up the path ahead. Namseok’s Kitchen is only a five minute walk, you can do this.
Walking out you opened your umbrella and stood still for just one minute paralized by the pitter patter of the droplets meeting your umbrella.
It was the beat to a dreadful song you knew too well.
You pushed past the blue metal doors of the gymnasium. Your nostrils are no longer consumed by the smell of sweat and dirty laundry and the muffled conjunction of laughter, voices, bouncing balls, and whistles died out the minute the door closed behind you.
Gym class was a drag and there was truly nothing worse than an hour long class period with sweaty kids in such a tiny space. Usually, you opted for walking on the track for the duration of class but that option became futile the moment it began to pour an hour ago.
In fact it was still raining, but you stood under the navy awning covering you from becoming soaked. Your eyes are closed and you lean against the red brick wall inhaling the scent of petrichor, the resulting smell of the parched earth just as the pouring rain continues to beat anything standing right below it. The sweet aromas seeped into the air sweeping past your nose with the soft breeze that blew by.
It was as if the earth had exhaled, emanating its distinct fragrance from millions of pinpoints all at once. Inside that smell, the seconds slowed and each moment seemed to dilute. It filled you with relief.
Then, suddenly the remnants of your heaven became blurred and the walls holding up the roofs began to tumble down and with it a whiff of nicotine became tangled in your nose.
Your eyes shot open and there he was, Jungkook. The boy you’d kissed a week ago in the boy’s bathroom.
“Cigarettes are bad for you, you know..” You felt a knot in the pit of your stomach as soon as he turned. You heard what happened to him but you hadn’t gotten around to seeing him yet, you’d been avoiding him.
“Yeah, I keep thinking I’ll quit and I can’t seem to make it past a couple of hours,” he was honest and he smiled, two characteristics you thought had died the moment your boyfriend’s fist met his face. He still had a soft purple bruise under his eye to prove it.
“You need something else to get your mind off of it.”
He threw the butt of the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it to put it out and leaned right beside you on the wall. Up close you saw a deep gash on the apples of his cheek, it was still red but stitched up.
“I know.”
“Are you really littering right now?” You eyed the discarded smoke under the tip of his chunky combat boots.
“Right, sorry miss president of ‘i love earth’ or whatever,” he bent over, picking it up and placing it in the pocket of black jeans, similar to the ones he wore that day minus the rips around the thighs.
“It’s actually called, ‘advocates for planet earth’ for your information.”
“I love earth sounds better,” he shrugged, “should consider the name change.”
“I’ll bring it up in our next meeting.”
“I’m surprised,” Jungkook began, his eyebrows furrowed together and you could tell he was in a mental battle to continue, “that he lets you join cute little nerdy clubs.”
Twenty minutes before you entered the boys bathroom last Thursday, you and your friends sat in the library during study hall, your homework long forgotten and with continued complaints of loud talking all of you had settled for a game of quiet dare or die.
The set-up was easy.
There were two piles out in-front of you, one die, one dare. The object of the game created by your friends was to choose a dare and record yourself completing it before the end of the school day or else you’d have to do something even more embarrassing from the die pile.
Your dare was to graffiti the side of the school. A bit excessive, compared to the other ones which only called for kissing each other, going against school dress code for the rest of the day or skipping the last period.
Ditching the crumpled up paper you chose a die deciding that whatever it was at least it probably wouldn’t come at the expense of being expelled.
‘Kiss Jeon Jungkook (loser)’ it read.
You could’ve said no but you didn’t. Instead you fed into the taunts of the very boy you’d find your eyes lingering after. The same boy who occupied your thoughts day and night, the same one who kissed you like no one else has and whose touch (though, brief)—permanently marked a trail of goosebumps only he could procure.
“He doesn’t control me, Jungkook.”
“He doesn’t,” Jungkook nodded, registering every gravity of your words which felt heavy on his tongue. If your boyfriend didn’t control you then that meant you had also dealt a hand at the countinuously fucked-up encounters between him and your boyfriend. But this also finally cemented the idea that you had kissed him willingly; you saw it in the way his eyes sparkled even when the sun had been hibernating for the duration of the day.
He seemed to have finally realized that both of those could be true. That love and pain could dance together hand in hand when it came to the two of you.
Your eyes scanned his chocolate ones, slowly reaching up using the pads of your finger to caress his cheek. They were full and warm and you were careful not to inch too close to the purple and green-ish spot under his eye.
“Will you believe me if I tell you something?”
“Tell me.”
“I really did enjoy that day.” You clarified, “our kiss despite what I said afterwards.”
He chuckled, “hopefully saying me too doesn’t get me another black eye.”
The tightness in your chest squeezed tighter and immediately you felt like you couldn’t breathe. When Jungkook was around you felt as if your heart and mind collided against each other and you were left in a daze, castaway in your own body and mind. Like, right now, your brain urged you to walk away and get as far away as possible from him but your heart called out to him and down that same path it set out a route leading to his silken lips.
Your heart beat to a deep crescendo nearly synching to the sound of the beating rain against the awning just overhead.
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to class?”
Snapping out of your daydream you replied, “uh, yeah, I should get back.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll see you around.”
Jungkook smiled, “I’ll see you around.”
The hefty winds blew your umbrella yet you remained in the same exact spot just a couple of feet away from the entrance to the dorm building. You were drenched from head to toe causing your gray sweats and hoodie to stick to you all while they weighed you down. Although you were inclined to move away from the droplets adorning your figure, your legs just would not submit to the command.
The smell, the dark skies, and the feeling of the rain on your skin all ignited a sense of familiarity, contentment yet melancholiness.
There were too many feelings jumbled into one.
“If you stand here, like this, you’ll end up sick.”
You hadn’t realized your eyes were closed until the moment his voice overshadowed the roaring screams of the pouring rain. Jungkook’s outfit mimicked yours slightly but even you could admit he looked much better than you. He wore gray sweats and a gray hoodie draped off his shoulder over a white wife beater. His tattoos peeked through outlining the beginning of the sleeve following the length of his extremity down to his fingers.
He’s breathtaking, he’s always been.
“I wasn’t aware that my well-being was any of your concern.”
Jungkook combed his slender digits through his jet black hair inching closer to you until his umbrella covered the both of you, “it doesn’t,” he said, “ I just figured you were either drunk or too much of an idiot to be out in this storm.”
“Well, in that case that makes us two idiots standing out in this weather.”
“I was not out. I’m not crazy,” he cleared his throat, “I just so happen to see you through my dorm window.”
He came down for you, “yet here you are now.”
“Need I remind you, if I wasn’t, you’d still be out here getting soaked.”
“Soaked,” you snickered.
“Grow up,” his voice was laced with annoyance but the rose tint on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know.
“Where did my umbrella even go?”
He pointed to your feet where your Converse swam in a puddle and there was your unbrella was looking as fucked up as ever. Immediately, you made a mental note to never buy umbrellas at the dollar store ever again. You supposed that’s the only thing you were good at; making one wrong decision after the other.
You huffed, “ah, I’m okay. It’s okay, I got it from here.”
“Were you going somewhere?”
“You don’t have to help me, Jungkook,” you didn’t dare look at him because Jungkook was good at one thing, it was peeling back at your layers with his piercing eyes. He made you feel vulnerable—bare. And you always feared the psychedelic enchantment wiring in your brain whenever he looked in your direction.
Back then that was your excuse for not helping him, for not being a better human being. It was a shitty excuse, you know that now but you always feared your willingness to succumb to your hearts’ cries.
You feared falling into him—falling for him.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” He laughed, “just lead the way. I have nothing better to do anyway.”
“I was just going down the street to Namseok’s Kitchen to get Hobi some chicken noodle soup. He isn’t feeling too well this morning.”
“That’s only a five minute walk,” he nodded toward the path ahead, “Let’s go.”
Five minutes felt like an eternity as the two of you walked towards your destination in utter silence. The street was pretty empty—only Jungkook, yourself and the rain remained. . And your thoughts, of course. They ran at record speed as you tried to relive every single moment from your past, you know; divulging in all the good times and wanting to fix every fucked up thing you’ve ever done.
If only you could turn back time you’d make things right.
In an attempt to skip another puddle, to prevent your socks from becoming sodden you accidentally moved closer to Jungkook and your elbow brushed against his. The feeling wasn’t foreign to you and it transported you to those nights, all of those moment when your bodies were so close you could smell the soap he’d used that morning, cardamom and vanilla, the scent still lingered around in your nose and you wondered if you were just hallucinating or if he actually still used the same soap.
“While you order I’ll get us something hot,” he walked you to the glass door of the small diner, then turned towards the coffee shop across the street.
“Jungkook!” You called out and he looked back in your direction, “Hold on,” you dug in your pocket reaching for a ten dollar bill, “Here.”
“Just worry about the soup and get one for yourself. Your body will thank you tomorrow morning,” he shouted back.
He disappeared into the shop as cars sped by in his shadow. You almost didn’t believe he was just right there. With you. Was he?
The bell on top of the door chimed as you walked into the restaurant, the squishing sound of your drenched shoes against the white tile bounced off of the baby blue walls. As you walked closer to the counter you wrapped yourself in a tight embrace to provide yourself with some warmth against the blasted AC. The place has always been light on decoration and made to feel more homey than anything else. There was a faux wall with photographs of customers hanging from loose thread, next to that there was a small circular table where the polaroid and its film was stationed. The remaining walls held all sorts of artworks in different shades of azure from Seokjin’s boyfriend, and Hobi’s brother, Namjoon. Towards the front was your favorite place, a bench stationed in-front of the floor to ceiling glass window.
Namjoon approached the register, “oh no, what the fuck did he do now?”
“He threw a party and woke up sick as fuck. I was just coming to get him some soup. He’s said he would puke anything else.”
“And that little shit made you walk?” Seokjin walked up behind Joon taking a seat on the stool beside him. “Look at you…” he motioned towards you and you took a look at yourself in the circular mirror hung behind the two guys, a fucking mess, “you’re all wet. Did he make you come here alone?”
Before you even had the chance to answer Jinnie continued, “I’m going to kill him. You hear me?” He turned towards his boyfriend, “I am going to kill your brother.”
Joon mumbled, “I might just join you.”
“Before your two go on a killing spree…” you leaned against the wooden surface of the counter, “I kind of offered because I felt bad for his dumbass.”
“He still let you come all the way down here in this weather and that is enough to plan a crime,” Seokjin hissed, “Joonie will you get her a towel from the back?”
Joon disappeared behind the beaded curtain.
“Okay, so one soup for the idiot and one for you?”
You nodded, “yes, chicken noodle soup please. Can you make that three though?”
“Who’s the third one for?” He raised an eyebrow staring you down like you had an intimate secret you were keeping from him. Well, technically, you were keeping some things to yourself but you weren’t lying just withholding the truth. It wasn’t the same thing.
“It’s for the person who accompanied me here today.”
“And who is that?” Joon asked, they were both overprotective, like older brothers, “you only have one friend and unfortunately I am related to him.”
“Not a friend. . Just someone I know.”
They hummed in unison exchanging suspecting looks between one another. Then, the bell on top of the door chimed once again, the same way it did when you walked in. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, his scent gave him away immediately.
“Hi, welcome to Namseok’s kitchen,” Jin greeted him.
“Hey,” he walked deeper into the restaurant until he finally stood right next to you as you continued drying off, “here. I got us lemongrass tea. I didn’t know what you like so I figured I get you the same as me.”
Grabbing the to-go cup from his hand, you reply, “yeah, I like lemongrass tea.”
You took a sip, basking in the heat of the piping hot liquid as it traveled down your throat and into your tummy. A tired whimper escaped your lips, as you became entirely immersed in the flavors of the lemony taste exploding on your tongue. There was silence around you but you could feel three sets of eyes on you and instantaneously your eyes shot open.
“I almost forgot Jin, Joon, this is Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Jin and Joon, Hobi’s brother and brother in law.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” Jinnie smiled in his direction and Joon followed suit, “Jungkook..” He repeated, “why does your name sound so familiar?”
“I went to highschool with Hobi and..” he pointed at you, avoiding even the utterances of your name. There was no disgust lingering in his face but then again his expression was unreadable and you were sure he was masking his true feelings at the expense of the two men in front of you.
“I knew it,” he clasped his hands together but as soon as you saw the thoughts wiring in his head and connecting together you shook your head to prevent him from continuing. Thankfully, he understood immediately, “yeah, I thought I had seen you before.”
Jungkook also connected the dots because Jin hadn’t been in high school at the same time he was. Jinnie was three years older than you guys were and by the time he and Hobi had moved into town Seokjin had already graduated. But he was now aware that you had mentioned him in passing—now he knew that you had to have mentioned something about that time.
“I’m going to go check on those soups,” Jin announced walking back towards the kitchen, “Joon, come on join me.”
You walked past Jungkook with the brown cup held tightly in your grasp before taking a seat on the bench by the front window. The storm still ran rampant outside and the streets remained barren. Jungkook sat two tables down, near the wall, far away from you.
“Do I owe you anything for the tea?” You mumbled holding up the cup in his direction.
“I told you to not worry about it..”
“I didn’t know Seokjin would bring that up,” you didn’t look at him, eyes lulled by your dusty white converse, “I didn’t know he would remember you.”
“Just forget about it,” he shook his head, “you don’t need to explain.”
“No, I feel like I do.”
“You don’t.”
“Jungkook, please let me,” your eyes watered and your voice faltered.
He sighed, taking a small sip of the tea before continuing, “please don’t explain. I don’t need an explanation. I have buried it all, it still lives in my head but it’s buried and I don’t need to resurrect the tsunami of emotions that comes along with that..” he pointed at his temples, “it’s still here but please do not awaken them. I don’t want to brush the brush off of those memories.”
You two were the only people in the shop but you knew Joon and Jin were behind one of the walls eavesdropping. It was silent and the only noise in the small space was the whirring of the AC.
“Are our good memories also buried somewhere?” You knew better than to ask but you needed to know.
“I put those to rest first,” he admitted and your heart sank, “those memories, although good, were an incitement to everything else that lingered right behind. I had to get rid of those memories to get rid of everything else.”
“Okay,” tears were beginning to swell up in the corners of your eyes and you tried your best to blink them away, “yeah, that’s okay. I understand why you had to do that.”
“I’m sorr—” Jungkook began.
“Don’t, please, you’re not the one who should be apologizing to me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you do that.”
The bell at the front desk chimed, ripping your attention away from Jungkook. Seokjin stood behind the counter holding two paper bags, “order’s up.”
Walking up you thanked him and grabbed the bags, “thanks. I’ll have Hobi venmo you for this.”
“Don’t even worry about it,” he smiled softly, “free lunches till you guys graduate remember. That goes for you too now, Jungkook.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” he handed him the smaller bag, “I mean it. I better see you around here more often.”
“Thank you,” he smiled brightly, the kind of smile you hadn’t seen him wear in years. It was radiant and lit up his face with warmth. The indents on his cheek were deep and they framed his rose lips like they were a work of art. Not even the silver hoop piercing his bottom lip shone as brightly as he did when he smiled. You almost forgot how good it looked on him and you couldn’t help but stand there and admire him taking mental pictures to keep forever.
He deserves someone better. Someone who’s going to make him smile like that until the end of time. Someone who wasn’t you.
“And thank you for coming along with her since Hobi couldn’t.”
“It’s no problem.”
“I would offer you guys a ride back home but Jin and I walked to work today. Guess we didn’t really think things through either.”
“It’s okay, Joon,” you zipped up your rain coat and pulled the hood over your head, “it’s only a five minute walk back.”
After thanking Jin and Joon, the two of you exited the store and cut in through the alley way before landing on the road leading back to the dorms. Once again, the two of you stood dangerously close to one another radiating off each other’s body heat and before you knew it the building came into view and Jungkook led you up the walkway leading you to the main door. You didn’t want to let him go. You didn’t want him to leave you but it’s not like you could actually say that.
You were a mere burden jumbled into bad memories and the worst years of his life.
“Thank you for coming along,” you pushed the thoughts although you don’t think you could ever really get rid of them.
“No thanks needed. I couldn’t let you take the trip on your own, especially not in this weather.”
He couldn’t let you. Your heart began to race as you tried to keep yourself from reading too much into his words. They probably didn’t mean anything… But what if he still cared? What if Jungkook still cared about you?
“See you around.” He nodded before heading off in the direction of his dorm.
I shouldn’t have said anything.
You turned around, but Jungkook was no longer near. His back was turned in your direction as he continued trotting down the sidewalk. Great! Now you’re hearing voices, after reaching for the metal door handle the voices reappeared.
Our memories are flavored in bitterness but I still can’t get her off my mind.
Jungkook was gone.
The thing about rumors is that they spread like wildfires and no matter how hard you work to extinguish that fire it is always too little too late. That’s how you felt as soon as you crossed the threshold from the bathroom and into the congested hallways. Everyones prying eyes read you so intently condemning you for the hypocrisy of allowing someone like Jungkook to permanently ink his lips on yours. The passionate dance the two of you composed left behind the imprints of his lips as he tattooed your skin with each one of the pecks he left behind.
Your phone buzzed in the back pocket of your jeans. You pulled it out, unlocking it, quickly seeing the photo your friend had snuck of you on his lap pop up. Your mouths devour one another and your bodies pressed together closely while your hand rests on his shoulder.
You wanted to frame it—live in the pixels of that picture forever.
‘Death complete bitch.’ Your best friend’s text read below the photo, ‘I can’t believe you actually kissed him.’
‘I can’t believe I did it either.”
‘What was it like?’
The worst part about it is that it had to come to an end. Your mind traveled an hour back and you recall the velvet feel of his lips as they moved against yours mimicking the softness of clouds. At the sametime his tongue was saccharine tasting of the sweetness of strawberries and maple syrup leading you to guess he had either waffles or pancakes for breakfast that morning.
All you wanted was to run back into that bathroom.
‘Nothing memorable. Just glad it’s over.’
‘Don’t worry you won’t ever have to kiss him again.’
Yeah, that was the fucking problem. You wanted to kiss him again, preferably you wanted to kiss him forever.
‘Yeah, thankfully.’
You didn’t know when that kill switch that made you a complete and utter bitch was flipped on, but all you remember were those calamitous days when you didn’t really know who you were and who you were meant to be. Those days were marked with pen squiggles, they were blurred and you chose to permanently turn the light off and lock the door behind you in that section of your brain.
Middle school was rough to say the least. But that was the beginning of your novel and you knew perfectly well who you were now.
You had the friends you did because they made you look good, you had the clothes you did because you had a reputation to uphold and you had the boyfriend you did because someone like you is supposed to be with someone like him. Those were the simple unspoken rules of high school and at first they were easy to follow until they weren’t.
Everything was simple until that summer before freshman year. The day you visited the park near your house and you spotted him, with his chunky black boots and signature black outfit matching his jet black hair. The two of you were only fifteen then but he already had a tattoo on his wrist peeking out of the sleeve of his crewneck, back then he didn’t have his lip piercing—not yet at least.
“I thought you only hung out in abandoned buildings and sketchy alley ways,” you remembered telling him that and the two of you spent hours on those swings talking the afternoon away. Back then, you learned Jungkook was a gentle giant disguised in an intimidating disguise. He was thoughtful in the way he looked at life and dreamt about the future, he was caring in the way that he spoke about nature, tattoos, music and everything else he held a deep passion for and lastly, he was attentive in the way he listened to you thoroughly drinking in every detail you had shared.
That was the Jungkook that made you fall for him in the blink of an eye but back then you didn’t know who he was and you were certainly not made aware of how things would end up.
The bell dismissing you from your last period class snapped you right out of your thoughts and you dashed out the door of the classroom wanting nothing more than to escape home and be left alone to bask in your thoughts.
“There’s a fight outside!” a few students called out running past you.
“Let’s go!” someone else yelled across the hallway.
You were nervous to ask but you did anyway, “fight? Who’s fighting?”
“Your boyfriend’s fighting someone,” a girl you didn’t quite recognize replied, “Jungkook, or something like that I think.”
By the time you made it to the parking lot there was already a crowd of people forming a circle around both boys. Jungkook held his bloody nose while your boyfriend clenched and unclenched his hand, likely to relieve the pain of hitting Jungkook. You ran in their direction but as you neared them you saw as the boy you called yours landed another punch on Jungkook’s face causing him to fall back on the concrete.
He didn’t fight back, didn’t even respond to the other boy’s insult. He just sat on the ground holding his face waiting for it all to be over.
“Hey,” you finally reached him, shoving him back to prevent another callous attack on the boy behind you, “what the fuck are you doing?”
“I saw the fucking picture,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
“The girls and I played a game of dare or death,” you explained, “it was only part of the death I had to complete. It didn’t mean anything.”
He lunged towards you and poked at your chest, “you still kissed him.”
The crowd went silent and your boyfriend’s anger highlighted the very thing you’d intended to place under lock and key—your pretty little secret no longer a secret or even pretty for that matter. You felt light headed and you weren’t sure if it was the punishing rays of the sun or the mental strain this was all causing.
You didn’t regret that kiss; you never would but you also thought that picture would stay between you and your friends.
A wave of murmurs swayed all around you and you knew your reputation was descending by the second.
You didn’t dare look at Jungkook, you knew his hypnotizing dark eyes would make you crumble. Seeing him like that. . The way he did all helpless and unprotected would compel you to care for him and cradle him in your arms until nothing or no one else could hurt him, “It meant nothing. Okay?” You heaved, “It meant nothing.”
Instead, you were dragged away from the boy your heart screamed out for.
Fuck, do I still like her?
Just shut up, Jungkook. It’s too early for this.
I shouldn’t be asking myself that. Ever.
Presently, you’ve gotten to know Jungkook for being reserved and fairly quiet, similar to how he was in high school except back then he actually spoke to you. But now, he is quiet and he doesn’t bother uttering a single word in your direction. The only times he ever addresses you is when he throws continuous jabs at you, landing every single one—he spews spiteful words of retaliation as a result of the shitty person were years ago and although you knew it was well-deserved that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Unlike his recently reserved outer shell, you quickly learned Jungkook’s mind traveled at the speed of light and for two days now, you could hear the constant battles of thoughts breaking out in his head.
Words crashed against each other; phrases were left abandoned half way through and ideas were left unfulfilled.
You groaned smacking your silk pillow over your face, your mind was exhausted on overdrive and increasingly overheating all because Jungkook couldn’t ease his thoughts and empty his mind at five in the fucking morning. Who. . Thinks this much at such ungodly hours of the morning, the sun isn’t even up yet.
The scattered clouds invaded the dark blue sky dusted in shades of purple.
Does she think of me?
I do.
Did she ever feel what I felt when we kissed?
I did—I do. I still feel it. Similar to how the sun feels on you on a hot summer day, the sparks on their ignited route as they traveled through every single inch of your skin setting it alight even today. You felt it then and you could feel it now.
Finally, his thoughts ceased and you guessed he’d probably drifted off into a slumber. He probably looked so peaceful you thought, grabbing one of your extra cushions, laid on your side and placed it in between your legs like a mommy pillow. Sleep came knocking on your door and your eyes began to feel heavy.
Jungkook probably looked like an angel as he slept. You could picture him laying in a sea of his messy sheets against his golden tone.
By the time you woke up once again, it was nine in the morning and the sun peeking in through the windows ripped you right out of your sleep.
Your room door burst open, “hey! I knew you’d be awake. What do you have planned for the day?” Hobi took a seat on the edge of your bed.
“Whatever happened to knocking? I could’ve been naked you know..”
“We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”
“Fair enough,” you laid facing the ceiling, “I wasn’t going to do much today just going to check Mr. Kim’s list. He posted it on the bulletin outside his class for our upcoming project.”
“Do you want me to make you something to eat before I go?”
“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”
He planted a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be in the dance studio. You wanna come see me later?” His heart-shaped lips did very little to cover his pearly whites as he grinned, “I’ll give the front desk your name so they can let you up when you get there.”
“Please, don’t forget like last time or I’ll have to fight someone for real this time,” you said.
“Won’t,” he called out as he strutted towards the front door, “I promise. See you later.” You heard the door open and shut before you began falling asleep once again but the peace and quiet was very short lived because you heard him again.
What did I even dream about?
You wondered the same. Was he the type to dream up cute scenarios in that pretty head of his as he drifted off for the night? Did your face invade his mind in the late hours of the night? You hope you did.
Your name echoed in the basis of his mind followed by the emission of thunderous groans.
He seemed. . frustrated.
Ah, fuck. Yes, Jungkook just imagine it’s her.
The image in your head was impure as soon as you finally realized what Jungkook was actually doing. You’d imagined his hand disappearing under the base of the pyramid forming through his duvet. Stroking himself slowly, his head lolled back against his headboard, sweat glistening on his chest and forehead, while his eyes fluttered closed as his eyelashes batting away all reminders of reality.
I want her touch—need it. So bad.
You’d become too enthralled in the symphony of Jungkook’s whimpers that you hadn’t really noticed the death grip you had on your bed sheets as your knuckles turned white and the way your legs rubbed against each other in a desperate plea for some friction.
This was private. Jungkook needed privacy and while your mind opened a portal which prevented that, the best thing you could do was ignore him and the sensual persuasion laced in his bedroom voice, no matter how desperately he called out for you, it wasn’t right.
Ignore.
God, I would fuck her so good.
Think of something else.
With my cock buried deep inside of her. Fucking her into my mattress until she’s shaking with the overbearing stimulation of pleasure. Until, even her own name becomes a mere afterthought.
You grabbed your phone from the night stand but your lame attempt at a ‘distraction’ was useless. His words were addictive and you were already soaked right through your panties. Your sheets began sticking to your sweaty skin while Jungkook’s ardent words continued heating you up.
She would take me so well. Fuck!
A shower! That’s what you’d do—just take a cold cold shower to ease those thoughts and shut him out until he finally finishes.
You hissed as the hard pressure of frigid water hit your body from the shower head, even this wasn’t enough to mask the way your body shuddered as Jungkook continued. It was even more enticing that after everything—after his hostile gazes and cold words your face was in the forefront of his brain as he touched himself.
His alluring thoughts kept on playing one after the other and your cunt became the victim crying out to him with patterned pleas he would never hear. Your juices strolled down your inner thigh mixed in with the streaks of water and you could no longer bear the desperate thumps of aching cunt. You were going mad, honestly his stamina and self control were all to blame. The combination was torturous.
While you weren’t one hundred-percent sure of what he was doing the way his thoughts became sporadic weathering winds of pleasure and then tranquility. It was a cycle, he would be on the verge of succumbing to his peak and then all of the sudden he would stop. Before beginning once again and again and again.
The viciousness of his desire lasted until right around the time you turned the shower off and you couldn’t tell if for the past twenty minutes you had been in your own personal heaven or hell.
I hate how much I still want her.
I hate that I can’t have her.
You can have me, Jungkook. You can have me now, tomorrow and forever.
The heat was overbearing and you could feel the way your tank became soaked with sweat and the thin fabric stuck to your body. You heaved as you pushed open the glass door into the English building. Mr. Kim’s room was on the third floor and the bulletin board was stationed right next to his door. After opting out of climbing three flights of stairs you ride the elevator up and exit out to look at the posted partners for Mr. Kim’s upcoming project. Walking down the main hall you turn left and there it is—there he is.
The simplicity of his outfit was composed of a plain white tee, gray sweat shorts, and over the ankle white socks tucked into black slides. The colorful ink adorning his skin still peaked under the sleeve of his shirt, his black wavy hair rested on the nape of his neck.
The hallways were completely empty and his back still faced you so you kind of just stood there unsure of what to say or do. I mean you’d heard him masturbating just a few hours ago and while you truly did not mind even the slightest you weren’t quite sure how to even interact with him moving forward. While he seemed to despise you for the events that unfolded back in high school this morning was a complete change of events. His voice was dipped in sex as he moaned your name until he finally came.
God, why was it so hot in here? Is the AC really off mid-summertime?
“Hey,” his doe eyes stared at you, studying your off-putting exterior. Your eyes were blown wide, your tank was still soaked with sweat and you just stood there ogling him, “are you okay?”
He stepped towards you with worrisome eyes. ‘Oh yes Jungkook, I’m okay. I’m just picturing the way your hand climbs up and down the length of your dick, head tilted back, mouth slightly opened as groans form at the root of your throat. You know, the way you probably looked this morning.’
Instead you decided on a soft, “I’m okay.”
“You look like you’re about to pass out,” he placed his hand on your shoulder and you nearly fainted at the intense heat emitted from his skin to yours, “here, sit down,” he guided you to one of the lounge chairs sat opposite Mr. Kim’s class, “have you drank anything today?”
How could you kindly explain that was not the kind of thirst you were looking to quench.
“No. .” you shook your head.
“Okay, okay,” he grabbed a water bottle from the black backpack sitting at his feet. You hadn’t even noticed it before, you had been so focused on him the entire time, “here drink some.”
The bottle was half empty meaning his lips were on it and now your lips would be on it too. This wasn’t really what you meant when you said you wanted to feel his lips on yours but you didn’t really mind either.
“Yeah, sorry, I got thirsty on the way here,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I can get you one from the vending machine.”
You must’ve been looking at the bottle resting in his grasp like an idiot, “no, it’s okay Jungkook,” you rested your palm on top of his hand, “it’s not like we haven’t kissed before right?”
His eyes turned a shade darker than their usual brown and he cleared his throat, letting go of the water bottle right into your grip, “right.” he stepped back as if you were a cactus ready to nick him with one of your spines, “I was looking at the list for Mr. Kim’s class and we are partnered together with Jimin for the project.”
“Okay, should we meet at my place tonight or tomorrow? This is due this Monday,” you took a sip of the water tasting the remnants of Jungkook’s strawberry chapstick left behind on the rim.
“I have a basketball tournament due tonight but we can meet tomorrow if you’d like.”
“Tomorrow,” you repeated, “any time?”
“After four?”
“See you then.”
For the first time in forever Hoseok had actually left your name at the front desk of the studio on campus. After being left up you walked in through the double doors of the dance studio where the music blasted at highest volume and your best friend’s shoes squeaked against the shiny wooden floor as he moved throughout the room swiftly executing his choreography with perfection. Hobi was a force to be reckoned with and dance was his element.
“You’re here,” his professional and focused aura peeled back as soon as he saw you enter the room, “I need a break anyway.”
You sat on the floor with your back resting against the wall of mirrors.
“I’m here and I cannot believe I witnessed such perfection,” you clapped your hands, “I still cannot believe my best friend is talented enough to finally snatch me away from poverty.”
“You know I got us,” he sat beside you before laying his head on your lap. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat from head to toe, “but let’s not forget you chose to be poor.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice. I can’t really help having idiotic parents,” you shrugged.
“I know baby,” he cooed. Hobi was quiet which was definitely out of his usual nature where he radiated a blinding luminescent orb around his being. He fidgeted with the strings on his sweatpants and opened his mouth only to say it again.
“Hoseok, you’re anxious and it’s making me anxious. Just say what you need to say.”
You combed your fingers through his damp hair, “I saw they, your parents, left a voicemail for you last week. Did you ever get back to them?”
“No,” you sighed, “and I don’t think I want to either. Everything they tried to do and were willing to do was truly wicked and unforgivable.”
“You never told me what happened.”
“It involves Jungkook, of course, and everything we did while in high school, Yeonjun’s party the summer before senior year.”
“The one he threw the week before school started?”
“Yes.”
“To this day I still can’t remember shit about that night.”
You chuckled, “a lot of our classmates don’t remember that night at all but I do. I remember every single detail.”
He didn’t say anything so you continued.
Yeonjun’s lake house was like a maze. There were numerous narrow halls with an array of doors carved on each wall and it was the same for every single corner you’ve turned into so far. The little bit of alcohol you had began clouding your mind and you felt more intoxicated than you actually were. Your kitten heeled black sandals clacking against the hardwood floor sought a way out of this elaborate labyrinth and back to what you originally came for.
The music playing just a floor below faded as you traveled deeper and deeper into the second floor, although you could still feel the booming bass vibrating right under your feet.
You just needed a bathroom—not because you actually needed to use it but because you needed to take a minute to yourself. . to breathe. Every other corner of this house including the back and front yards and even the fucking lake are already invaded by massive seas of drunk teenagers. Their voices were too loud, the music was headache inducing and the atmosphere adopted a stench of sweat and b.o.
After ditching the red solo cup on a nearby console table, you leaned against the off-white walls closing your to block out the dim lights making you a bit lightheaded.
Seriously, who even had this many fucking rooms in one house. You mumbled.
Sure, your family was wealthy but you were nothing like the Choi family. Your parents were both doctor’s devoting their time to the tiny private practice the two of them founded but on the other hand Yeonjun’s family came from a long lineage of businessmen and they practically owned a handful of the businesses for miles and miles around.
You weren’t jealous of all of the extra zeroes attached to his parents’ net worth, you and your own lived comfortably enough to not have any financial complaints. However, his parents were more liberal and they didn’t clip his wings. They weren’t clingy or demanding and they certainly did not push anything on him that he didn’t want to do. Your parents were not this way, they were controlling, and they told you what to do and eat, who to hang out with and date. With covetous thoughts you wondered if there would ever be a point in your life where you could feel as free as Yeonjun did.
Maybe now that you’ve turned eighteen things would be different. Doubtful—your birthday was a month ago and nothing has changed. Unfortunately, you still lived under their roof and relied on their money.
You removed your shoes and hesitated whether to travel back down stairs and out somewhere into the depth of the forest but immediately erased the thought from your mind as you looked down at your bare feet, mini skirt and crop top. This wasn’t really an appropriate outfit to go off exploring the woods in the middle of the night.
The minutes continued ticking by and finally you spotted a door at the end of the opposite hallway with a vertical rectangular piece of frosted glass cut right down the middle. Your feet traveled down the heated floors before your hand reached out for the black knob; turning it slowly.
It was a rooftop balcony.
The railing was wrapped in garden lights, while two sets of black cushioned reclining beach chairs sat around a propane fire pit. There was a massive grill to the other side, a bar that would put a nightclub to shame and a huge patio furniture set.
Your eyes thoroughly scanned your surroundings before landing on the boy leaning against the rail staring at the idiots swimming in the lake below. For the first time since you met him approximately four years ago his legs were exposed under the light washed knee length jorts, he wore a white t-shirt and a pair of black and white checkered vans. Still, right up the alley of what his style embodied but you had to admit you missed his signature chunky boots.
He still hadn’t noticed you so you walked up slowly, “I never thought I’d see you at a party like this,” you whispered in his ear before jumping right beside him.
The moon rays reflected a twinkle in his dark eyes, “Yeonjun and I are cool.”
“So, why aren’t you down stairs?”
“Why aren’t you?” his gaze traveled from your black painted toes all the way up to your eyes as if he was studying you intently.
“Too crowded,” you shrugged, “and not enough room to breathe.”
Jungkook looked ahead, his vision once again consumed by the dark green and brown shades of the dense forest once again, his side profile put artworks all across the world to shame.
“Yeah, same,” he added, “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret but parties aren’t really my thing.”
“No way. . I’ve seen you at every party for the past three years,” he dramatically rolled his eyes at the sarcasm in your voice and you chuckled before continuing a bit softer, “is this your first one?”
Jungkook nodded, “first one I’ve been invited to and the first I’ve ever attended too.”
“We’re breaking records tonight aren’t we.”
“I guess I’m feeling a bit audacious.”
You sneered, “audacious? Big word.”
“Don’t tell me you think I’m stupid like the rest of our classmates. .”
“I did my internship in the main office last year which included sealing report cards and sending them off,” he walked to one of the chairs and laid on it placing both of his palms under his head. Was he flexing? Couldn’t be. “You’ve practically taken every AP class offered at our school and aced all of them too. It’s a miracle how you have managed.”
“What can I say?” he smiled and his cheeks rose like two loaves of bread in an oven, “I’m all brains baby.”
“Brains and beauty,” you corrected.
“I can’t also be ‘beauty’ when you’re here; living, breathing, being,” Jungkook is the personification of all of your desires and his aura worked hard to draw you closer and closer in his direction no matter how hard you worked to stay away, for his sake. Even when you tried to repel away from him the gravitational force he exuded called out your name and your tympanum became inundated by the wails of his being.
Only he lived in your thoughts.
The video-like memories you have shot of him throughout the years loop in your mind day and night. It was dizzying but you didn’t want it any other way.
“You are beautiful,” you let your thoughts roll off your tongue freely—too tipsy to care and too enthralled by his striking features to lie about what you truly felt. What you’ve been working so hard to suppress for the past few years. You were tired of hiding, so fucking tired, “with your big beautiful eyes, and your cherry lips and rosey cheeks and all of these tattoos,” you carried on, “oh, and those piercings. Don’t you know that Jungkook?”
He was flushed and his head became tilted down as he played around with the silver rings on his fingers, “know what?”
“That you are more beautiful than life itself.”
Jungkook scooched over on the chair and patted the empty space beside him inviting you to sit near him and you did. He laid on his side while his face rested on his left palm.
“Are you drunk?” he asked.
“I only had two sips of Hobi’s drink,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, “I’ve been on cranberry juice most of the night.”
“So this is not a case of drunken words you’ll forget once the sun comes up?” he leaned in closer and you could see the faint freckles dancing on his cheeks and on the bridge of his nose.
His eyes sparkled projecting bright constellations never before seen in the heavens, “I could never forget anything about you.”
“You know I can’t believe that right?”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ve forgotten about me for the past year,” he smiled devilishly, “you haven’t spared me the time of day. I’ve missed your sneaky glances. The way you’d drop your pencil half way through algebra just to bat those pretty eyelashes in my direction kind of like you are now.”
“I didn’t do that just to look at you,” you clutched the thin gold chain hanging from his neck, guiding him closer to you, “I was just genuinely clumsy.”
“I’m just saying it’s funny how the pencil always fell in my direction,”
“Forget the pencil, Jungkook,” shivers cascaded down your back as his lips hovered over yours—his breath fanning against them. The aroma of lemon, and mint, with woody and balsamic undertones tickled your nostrils.
Jungkook shook his head, his eyes remained on your lips as you swiped your tongue along them, “it’s not about the pencil?”
“It’s not,” you added, tucking the few strands of hair that framed his face behind his ear. You just wanted to lay there with him forever, to be consumed by the warmth of his embrace, to lose yourself in the tenderness of his kisses, to wake up next to him tomorrow and also every single day after that.
“So just admit you wanted to lo—”
You lips landed on his and finally you remembered just how magical kissing Jungkook was except unlike that day in school the bathroom, today, it wasn’t a game. You were there on your own free will and you didn’t care who was around to see. The only concern clouding your mind was how much more of him you craved. The way your mouths moved each other made you feel inebriated, even more than alcohol ever could and you weren’t afraid to admit his lips had you addicted.
The silver metal hoop hung onto the corner of his lip felt cold, but so good in comparison to his heated kisses. Despite where you were or how many people currently invaded Yeonjun’s house it felt like you and Jungkook were the only two people on the entire planet. Just the two of you with your lips dancing on each other with the moon and the stars baring as your only witnesses.
Jungkook pulled away slowly—panting slightly, “please shut me up like that more often,” he held your face, resting his forehead on yours and pecking your lips continuously, “tell me you’ll do it. Tell me you’ll always kiss my stupidity away.”
You nodded, “Jungkook, how about I kiss you like that always and forever. Not only because of your stupidity as you call it but just because.”
“Are you trying to confess something?”
He sat across from you on the beach chair taking your legs onto his lap, his soft hands massaged the soles of your feet. You swallowed back the guttural groan riding up your throat melting deeper into the chair due to his therapeutic touch. His fingers moved higher and higher up the length of your extremities, halting right above your knees, yet he continued kneading his fingers into your skin.
“Tell me.”
You hummed.
“I need you to be an open book with me. What are you looking to confess?”
Your eyes remained closed as he continued touching you gently—almost feather-like, “Jungkook, I can’t really think when you’re doing that. .”
“Should I stop?”
“No, please,” you pant.
He continued kneading your thighs, “tell me.”
From the tips of his fingers currents of electricity trickled onto your skin, “ah, fuck. .” you breathed, “I like you Jungkook. I like you. Okay?”
Hobi sat up beside you, now leaning against the mirrors as well. The sun has begun its journey towards the horizon and its rays peaked through the slightly drawn blinds, “wait so you guys. .?”
You nodded but said nothing else. That night had been a secret between you and Jungkook.
“On the roof of Yeonjun’s house during our senior year back to school bash?” The surprise in his tone was evident but you weren’t taken back by it all.
“Yes,” you smiled faintly, unwilling to hide the giddiness you felt from the memories of your time together from Jungkook, “it was our little secret. We swore to each other we wouldn’t say anything to anyone. That’s why I didn't mention anything to you before but obviously someone saw and word got out that same night.”
Hobi sighed, “don’t tell me another fight broke out between him and your dumbass ex-boyfriend.”
You shook your head, “this time it was different. I wasn’t scared of what others thought anymore. In that moment I decided I would stop caring. I wanted to stop hurting him,” your clammy hands began to shake slightly and Hobi placed his palms on top of them to stop their trembling, “that night after the party we rode around all night aimlessly. Enjoying each other’s company and truly I was the happiest I had ever been all my life. Everything went to shit as soon as I made it home and walked in through the door. My parents waited for me to get in, they sat me down and began rambling about my change in behavior and how different I had become.”
He hummed and you took that as a sign to continue.
“As soon as I sat on the chair that night they slid over my mom’s phone and there was a picture of Jungkook and I kissing on one of the longue chairs. I swear I had dejavu from freshman year.”
“Did you ever find who took the picture?”
“I never did but I always figured it was one of my ex’s minions or something,” you shrugged, “to be honest, trying to figure it out was the last thing on my mind. They started talking and talking rambling on about my personality change and rebelliance and how Jungkook was the cause of it or some shit.”
“How did they even come up with that?”
“I asked myself the same thing,” you snickered, just thinking about it even now makes your blood boil, “but it didn’t matter. Being eighteen didn’t matter; they just wanted to keep us away from each other at all costs. They made all types of threats to make me press charges and file a restraining order which I obviously refused. Then, they vowed to make his life hell if I didn’t stay away and I didn’t want to find out what they meant so I decided to comply and stay away.”
“Okay, now I’m beginning to understand why you moved in with my family half way through senior year,” his thumb rubbed circles on the dorsal side of your hand, “were they mad when you left? I used to ask my mom if your folks ever reached out but she always avoided the question.”
“They were livid but nothing they could ever say or do would ever make me stay in that place.”
“Did they manage to leave Jungkook alone?”
“Well, after the big cut-off Jungkook and I were never able to find our way back to each other,” your voice was low, almost as if you couldn’t hear yourself it just wouldn’t be true, “and I moved in with you and your mom and I completely blocked them out of my life.”
“Good. I’m glad you ditched them,” he pinched your cheeks, “you deserve better than them and their money’s no good to you anyway.”
“I just wish I would’ve kept in contact with him. Maybe tell him what was going on or something,” you scratched the back of your neck obviously frustrated at your lack of communication skills as a stupid eighteen year old. You were such an idiot—why couldn’t you open your fucking mouth?
“We all make bad decisions at one point in our lives but you had no choice, baby. You were sandwiched into the wall one bad choice up against another. You made the best decision you could with the circumstances at hand,” he snuggled closer to you, wrapping one hand around your shoulder, “don’t beat yourself up over it please.”
“I love you. Seriously, I don’t know what I would ever do without you.”
He kissed your forehead, “I love you more.”
Today Jungkook’s highway of thoughts has eased and though you liked how calm the morning has been you also kind of missed the feeling of his lingering presence—almost as if your own shadow was missing.
You despised waking up towards the early hours of the afternoon but today you couldn’t seem to peel yourself out of of your bed, until finally you couldn’t fathom the idea of napping your day away—plus couldn’t do that even if you wanted to because Jungkook and Jimin would be over in about thirty minutes to begin working on Mr. Kim’s project.
Jimin had been the middle man in this entire set-up, he had both of your numbers so he took it upon himself to text the two of your separately (because he knew you and Jungkook were physically impossible of initiating a social exchange amongst yourselves), and get you both on board with a neutral territory to meet at. Of course, Jimin’s idea of a neutral territory involved a place where he could catch glimpses of his ex strutting around which meant your apartment was his ideal meeting spot and although his thoughts hadn’t revealed anything so far you just knew Jungkook wasn’t ecstatic about this whole arrangement.
After taking a quick shower, getting dressed and setting up a plate of sliced fruits and a couple bags of snack size chips and cookies you heard a light knock on your door.
Taking a deep breath you turned the knob before pulling the door open. It was Jungkook and as always he looked breathtaking. You were beginning to think comfort was his go-to because yet again, he wore sweats and a simple t-shirt—tattoos still peeking out at you, his bottom lip still pierced with the same small silver hoop, hair half up half down and his book bag slung on his left shoulder.
Removing his headphones he stared back at you as you continued ogling him, “hey. .” he greeted in his deep tone.
Why is she staring at me like that?
Do I have a stain or something?
He looked down at his shirt but when he saw nothing he just stared back at you tilting his head slightly.
“Hi,” you stepped out of his way and he finally crossed over the threshold into your apartment, “you’re the first one here so we’re just waiting on Jimin to make it before we begin. Please sit anywhere.”
He nodded.
The apartment wasn’t necessarily big but it wasn’t small either. An open floor plan made up the space between the kitchen and living room area with a rectangular island separating the two rooms. Immediately to the right of that was the door leading to Hobi’s room, then your room sat at the end of that hall just a couple feet away and the bathroom was just across from your door.
Yet even as you walked towards the kitchen and Jungkook made strides towards the love seat in the living room you felt like the two of you were cramped in a tiny box with the temperature hiked to the highest setting. God, there were about a million things you could say or offer him but nothing could ever mend his broken heart and that was enough to keep your lips sealed tight.
Where the fuck is Jimin?
I don’t know if I can be here alone with her for much longer.
And it’s so fucking hot. I’m gonna pass out.
Fuck, you knew it. He’s upset. Though you already figured coming here was probably hard for him, you didn’t imagine it would hurt you as much as it did to actually know how much he despised being in your vicinity, but it did.
Jungkook sat rather stiffly on the couch, bag still slung on his back as if he was ready to leave, staring off into the distance while his leg bounced up and down anxiously. Strolling past him silently you nearned the thermostat and cranked the AC up higher.
That’ll literally fix nothing at all.
You turned around taking a seat on one of the accent chairs near the row of windows on the opposite end of the living room. If it wasn’t for the invasion of his thoughts, the silence would be killing you softly.
“Have you heard anything from Jimin?” he finally looked in your direction but not into your eyes instead they lingered lower—in the direction of your legs. The hunger displayed in his eyes took you back to the night before when he moaned your name so sweetly.
“Nothing,” you tapped your screen to show him the lack of texts and placing the phone back on your thigh, his gaze followed almost like he was hypnotized.
You would give anything to hear him just one more time—Fuck, just once more.
He cleared his throat, snapping out of those sinful thoughts cooking up in your head, “yeah, same. And I’ve texted him like three times.”
“I’m thinking that little shit bailed even though he planned this whole thing,” you were scared to form your thoughts into actual words, “do you want us to start or would you rather wait for him?”
He breathed out almost exasperated—damn, you should’ve kept the suggestion to yourself. You were about to take it all back but then he finally spoke up, “We’re both here now. I think we can begin and then fill him in. . If that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, I think that’s the best we can do,” did he just willingly comply with staying alone with you, “I’ll go get my notebook. Gimme one second.”
“Okay.”
Right. . Okay. Just here to get our work done. That’s all. That is all. Yeah.
You sat beside him on the couch startling him just a bit—he seemed tense, “so we’re supposed to pick a movie, and match no less than three scenes to at least one of the emotions listed.”
“I say we do the very minimum and pick the movie I’m sure we’ve all watched,” he asked, unzipping his bag and pulling out his notebook.
“Titanic?” you asked.
“No, The Blind Side,” he scoffed, “do we really want to sit here for one hundred hours just to recap the eternity that is Titanic?”
“But the emotions for Titanic are so easy to dissect; we have happiness, love, and jealousy right off the bat,” you argued, “the assignment is practically done for us already.”
“Yeah, but everyone’s going to do Titanic. We need to stand out. Be different.”
“It’s an intro to writing class. I vote for taking it easy, weren’t you just moaning about taking it easy anyway?” your tone was a bit condescending you’d admit but the way he scanned your figure was addicting. There was nothing you craved more in this world than to have his gaze drink you in as if you were his favorite drink.
“I wasn’t moaning.”
I was last night though.
You swallowed hard, biting your tongue and holding yourself back from going along with begging him to moan the way you’d heard him do so the night before. His husk groans so low and sweet, so fucking sweet, “But you were.”
“It was a suggestion. There was no moaning involved.”
“Well, maybe if you did moan I would cave and take your suggestion,” the words rolled off your tongue before you could ever stop them.
He smirked, “so you just wanna hear me moan.”
Don’t smirk.
Eternally mad at her, remember?
The internal conflict raging within him gave you at least a little bit of hope. As you mapped out the field of his thoughts you figured he wanted nothing to do with but distance himself; to be cold and standoffish but he also revealed he wanted you. He wanted you near—to hold you, kiss you, touch you.
It was confusing and headache inducing but you liked that you still lived in his mind the same way he lived in yours.
You shrugged, “maybe I do.”
“Please, don’t,” his eyes finally met yours.
Look away.
But he didn’t and you were glad he didn’t.
“Do you want me to beg Jungkook?” you purred low and slow—the translation intended was desperation and you hoped he understood exactly what you were hinting at. You were tired of hiding behind your emotions.
She’s a fucking pied piper and I’m the snake hyptonized by sweet song and mindlessly slithering towards her.
Yes, Jungkook. Come closer, come to me. If only he could listen to your thoughts, this would be a whole lot easier.
Fucking one way telepathy.
“Uh,” there was a mere blank look plastered on his features. His pupils were blown and a soft tint of rose dusted his cheeks. It was as if your words had sucker punched him and he was still processing the hit.
You moved closer to him on the couch, placed your hand on his thighs to balance yourself as you drew closer to his ear, “please, Jungkook. Please, I need to hear you moan again.”
Fuck.
Fuck!
He groaned and the honeyed husk tone sent a trail of goosebumps up your thighs resulting in your panties becoming moist, “please.”
“Jungkook, I want you,” it was the first time in years you’d heard those words adjacent to his name and fuck did it feel good.
Fuck it.
His calloused hands were now on your waist and he began guiding you to lay on the loveseat before your hand landed on his chest to stop him.
“I said I want you,” you sat him back down before kneeling in-between his legs. The fit of his sweats got tighter, lifting and taking on the shape of a tent, “you didn’t reciprocate the sentiment so that means I’m in charge here today.”
Tell her. It’s easy.
Tell her you want her too, you fucking idiot.
He never vocalized it but you didn’t mind—knowing the thought pranced around on his mind was more than enough for you.
“Are you okay with taking these off?” he complied, taking his sweats off swiftly, letting the pool at his ankles. Jungkook is fucking big and you were taken back by the sight, “good boy,” you cooed.
His head fell back on the headrest while his eyes were shut tightly and his breathing became uneven. Oh! He likes that. He likes being called a good boy; you made a mental note to call him that again if you find yourself in a similar predicament.
You raked your nails along his inner thigh, “Jungkook?”
He hummed.
“What do you fantasize about?” you laid your head on his thigh, his dick just a couple inches away from your face and truly all you wanted was to take him all in your mouth.
“Alot of things.”
You reached up, taking his length into your hold and he winced at the contact as you began moving your hand up and down once and once again, “I need more details than that.”
“I think of. .” his words became jumbled in his throat as you continued your very mellow and teasing touch, “of you doing, ah fuck, of you doing all these things to me.”
You clicked your tongue and shook your head at his semi-confession, “Jungkook, have you touched yourself while you think of me, hm?”
Of course, you already knew. You’d heard it yourself but you just loved seeing him become so affected and so sensitive as a result of your lewd utters.
Your palms traveled up to his pink tip and began rubbing circles with your thumb painting it white with his precum.
“Good boys don’t touch themself.”
Jungkook’s mouth remained agape but there were no words communicated instead he formed a sort of soft whimper, and that was the kind of motivation your body needed to go into overdrive.
You wanted. . No, needed to rid yourself of these suffocating ass fucking clothes, you needed to touch yourself—to release that tension aching so painfully in between your legs. But you didn’t. Today was not about you.
“I know. .” he groaned, digging his nails onto the black leather couch, “but when I have you invade my thoughts,” he paused looking for all of the right words, “I just can’t control myself.”
“Hm, seems like I have a lot to live up to compared to your fantasies,” you kissed the head enveloped in your hand before swiping your tongue along his shaft and he hissed.
His saccharine noises should be made into a playlist so that you could be able to replay them over and over everywhere you go but especially when you lay under the covers of your bed in the late hours of the night. The only thoughts occupying your mind would be the compositions of his lustful cries as your fingers worked diligently to get yourself off.
It was so tempting to just allow his hands to continue traveling down your stomach and waist, a few more inches and his fingers could be at the exact location where your body screamed out for his attention.
You wanted it so bad.
You tutted while clicking your tongue, “sit back, Jungkook,” you removed his warm feeling away from your lower back and placed them on his knees before patting them softly, “and keep your hands to yourself. Yeah?”
“It’s really hard to,” he said, “nearly impossible when you’re working so hard to get me off and you’re just sitting there squirming whenever I talk about touching you. Cause the thought has lingered around in your mind, right?”
“Jungkook, this is not how tonight is supposed to go.”
“Then, how is it supposed to go?”
Your hand began moving up and down his cock, pumping him once again before you felt the corners of your mouth beginning to sting as you wrapped your lips around him. It was painful. . Good painful though. With each passing second you bobbed your head on his cock working to take him inch by inch but no matter how much you tried, it was nearly impossible.
His hand snaked around your neck aiding you, sinking himself deeper into the warmth of your mouth. With strings of saliva streaming down your chin, puffy lips, heated skin and a sort of fucked out look in your eyes you continued the repetition.
Seeing him lose himself under the ministrations of your touch and mouth was overwhelming and drove you to the verge of nearly succumbing to the peaking orgasm lurking close by. Instead you diverted your mind to what you were doing instead of what you felt. Placing one your hand around the base of his balls massaging them into your touch, while you put firm pressure with your thumb on the perineum—and that’s when you saw the explosion of fireworks erupt in his eyes while his thighs began to shake.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, Her mouth is—fuck!
“I’m so close,” a needy whimper escaped his lips, “please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. Please.”
You complied, nearly choking on his cock. The feeling of being nearly rid of your ability to breathe was addicting and yes, if tonight were to be your last day on earth it would be a pleasure to die with Jungkook’s dick in your mouth.
“I’ve been a good boy,” he cried out, “can I please cum?”
Been such a good boy. So good.
You hummed in approval right before he spilled into your mouth and you swallowed every bit of it before turning to see his splayed out body—all limp and tired.
After wiping the corners of your mouth you sat beside him on the couch. Your knees were red and stung just a bit but honestly you could do it all over again—all night if you could. Slightly, opening his eyes he looked down, placing a kiss on each knee.
“I never thought we would-” he paused momentarily, “we would do something like this ever again.”
“Really?” your voice became hoarse, “because I’ve thought about it for a long long time now.”
“You have?”
“I have,” you continued, “and I’d like to think you do as well but if you’re ever ready to actually admit what you truly feel you know where I’ll be.”
I do want you. So bad.
And my feelings for you have always remained the same. I still have feelings for you, I feel everything for you. I always have and always will.
He didn’t say a word but simply offered a sly smile before slipping away to get himself together in the bathroom.
… But you were not disappointed.
He needed time and that’s okay. You’d be more than happy to give him the time to dissect this peculiar relationship the two of you have. . developed. It’s the least you could do after all these years.
In your heart you just hope he finds his way back to you.
“So you sucked him dry and then you both continued to work on the project like nothing happened?” Jimin asked; his head laid on Hobi’s lap. Yes, they were back together. This was apparently the reason why he had missed the project session the night before.
“We were kinda forced to when your ass was MIA from the very meeting you set-up.”
He rolled his eyes, “nobody forced you to suck his dick.”
“Fuck you, Jimin.”
“Why don’t you begin by fucking Jungkook instead.”
“Jungkook and I aren’t fucking anytime soon,” you sighed spinning around on your desk chair. The ceiling seemed to come crashing down on you even as you thought of gravity of your fucked up reality, “it’s like I can feel that he still feels something for me but he just won’t vocalize it.”
Hobi caressed the apples of Jimin’s pink cheeks, stroking them lightly with his thumb. They were the picture perfect image of love—whenever they were not fighting of course.
“So you sucked his dick at the expense of what?” Hobi inquired.
“I really just wanted him in my fucking mouth,” you shrugged not really wanting to scramble for any other explanation because the truth of the matter is all of you would always calls out for Jungkook whether you wanted to or not.
“Oh, baby,” Hobi abandoned his place on your bed and kneeled in front of you holding your hands in his, “while I support all forms of slut revelations and tendencies as your best friend it is within my obligation to require you to tend after your heart.”
You nodded.
“Jungkook is alluring, captivating, mysterious and absolutely handsome—” Jimin cleared his throat behind him, but he ignored his boyfriend and proceeded, “and the two of you have a lot of history both good and bad but you have to understand what happened in the past is yesterday’s event. Jungkook can break your heart or hurt you in any way and it’ll be just as fucked up no matter what happened between the two of you back in high school. Okay?”
“Okay,” Hobi was right but how could you shut out the part of your brain which justified every single way Jungkook could tear you apart? Underneath the spark; shining bright in your eyes every single time he appeared in your line of vision you knew you deserved his wrath for every inconvenience you had a role in while inserted into his path.
“Don’t just say it. Mean it.”
The room felt smaller, suffocating, colder and Hobi’s words rolled around in your head in every single direction. The three of you were sprawled around your full bed watching a random movie Jimin had picked out. You sat up against the headboard while the two of them laid on their stomachs facing the television hung on your wall. You weren’t alone but your bed felt empty and as you looked off to your right you couldn’t help but be transported back to last night when you and Jungkook finally settled on the Titanic.
The tragic telling of two people who found their way to each other against all circumstances and the barrier of societal norms and expectations that stood in-between them. Of course, aside from Leo unnecessarily dying in the final act this could be a retelling of pinpoints on your relationship with Jungkook. You liked each other, your parents were against it, you lived in the moment and you let your heart lead a way here and there but as soon as the iceberg (your parents, your ex, and even you) became introduced as the antagonist the two of you found yourselves swimming in an ocean of heartbreak and despair.
You would always assume responsibility for every single way you hurt Jungkook in the past but if one thing must be crystal clear is that you also love him. You did back then and you do now—the only difference is that back then you were looking to please all of those around you and you suppress your feelings in the deepest pocket of your heart but you wanted to liberate it all. You were finally ready to listen to your heart.
It was a composition to a beautiful song, one so loud it courses through your very being, awakening your nerves and causing your thoughts to explode into a frenzy.
You wanted him here with you. Snuggling into you sharing longing looks and deprived touches.
You wanted him to be open and push all of his fears away.
You wanted him to realize that you were different now. Things were different and you would treat him so well.
I need to talk to her. Yeah.
Almost as if his brain and his phone were wired together you heard a ding go off right beside you.
‘Hey, can we please talk?’
Your heart sank because in your experience that sentence never led to a good thing. Never.
‘Sure. When are you free?’
‘Right now.’
‘Hobi and Jimin are home. You can come over if you don’t mind some company or we can meet somewhere else?’
‘Come to my apartment in 5.’
‘K.’
Jittery was the exact word you’d use to describe Jungkook at soon as he opened up the door to his apartment and stepped aside to allow you in. The length of his finger had a slight tremble and his eyes were blown wide.
You hadn’t really seen him like that in a while.
“Jungkook, are you okay?”
He nodded, “yeah, just a bit stressed with everything going on plus I’ve had like five energy drinks in the past five hours.”
“What’s got you so stressed?” you asked standing before him, you felt hesitant to sit anymore. I mean you did have his dick in your mouth like less than twenty-four hours ago but you didn’t want to push it and you certainly did not want to invade his personal space.
“Too many things, honestly. School for one. .” he ran a hand through his hair taking a brief second to determine exactly what he wanted to reveal to you, “work study plus now I'll be co-coaching the swim team as well.”
“You’re headstrong Jungkook,” you offered, “I’m sure you’ll do amazingly even with this hectic schedule you are so determined to take on.”
“I went to this psychic once and she told me my ambition to take on everything would lead to my demise,” he chuckled airily, “I’m beginning to think she was right.”
“Psychics are bullshit. Who says you can’t have cake and chocolate ice cream too?”
“Right,” you hadn’t noticed before but casual was Jungkook’s new staple. Seems like he has drifted away from his black boots and particularly dark toned outfits. You liked that version of him quite a lot, although you hadn’t really shown it in the past. However, you also liked the version of him standing before you where he maximized comfort and migrated to mostly tones of white, gray and nudes, “of course you would make that comparison. Cake and chocolate ice cream have always been your go to dessert combination.”
“Isn’t it everyones?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “for example my nutritionist might say it’s too sugary.”
“Well, fuck the psychic and that nutritionist of yours too,” Jungkook’s laugh is just like the rest of him—inviting, sweet and genuine. When he laughs, it’s addictive enough to make you want to make him laugh again and again, just so you can hear that sound and see her giggly smile as much as possible, “forreal, but also just remember you gotta just live in the moment, don't worry about tomorrow or even yesterday. Today is all that matters.”
“I definitely agree but funny enough I kinda wanted to talk to you about what happened last night..” He cleared his throat, “on the couch of your apartment. Well you and Hobi’s apartment.”
You looked down at your dusty white converse before finding his eyes once again, “what exactly did you want to talk about?”
Go on. Go on.
“We’re good right? Are you okay after—well, you know,” was he worried about hurting you after you suck him off yesterday? God, you could suck his dick all over again and then once more after that or preferably until your jaw locks and your knees dissipate. Though, that still wouldn’t be enough to extinguish the burning desire in the pit of your stomach.
“What exactly are you asking?” you took a step towards him, “shouldn’t I be the one making sure we’re good especially considering all of our history together?”
“Forget that.”
Don’t bring it up, please. Just forget about it.
“I can’t Jungkook,” you sighed, “I wanna make sure we’re okay and I wanna apologize for what happened. Please, let me do it. I don’t want you to resent me for the rest of your life because of it.”
“There’s no need to. I forgave you long ago. The cold stares and snarky comments were always just a front,” he confessed, “I forgave you the second after everything went down.”
“And I thank you for that but I still need to do this. I need to get it off my chest,” you reached for his hand; the warmth of his hold settled your nerves and finally you were able to go on, “Please, forgive me Jungkook. For going through with that dare and kissing you in the bathroom. I did want to kiss you but I should’ve never let them take a picture; it only made things worse for you. I’m sorry for not comforting you after your fight with my idiot ex, although I wanted to. I was scared but you were too and it was my fault so I should’ve been there. I’m sorry for ghosting you after we spent the night together at Yeonjun’s party—my parents, they gave me an ultimatum and I was just a high school senior still very dependent on them and I know that’s not an excuse but I managed to make it one back then. Most of all I’m so fucking sorry for not reaching out to you sooner and making things right. I just hope it isn’t too late now.”
His hands abandoned yours and instead he leaned over before cupping your face, “I told you already. I forgave you for everything a long time ago.”
“I appreciate your kind heart and forgiving nature, Jungkook,” you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes in the process, “but still I needed you to know how truly sorry I am.”
“Please, stop apologizing,” he sighed, “the past is the past and you have no reason to be apologizing to me right now.”
“You keep saying that but I did and I do,” Jungkook’s stare was comforting; his eyes felt like embers burning your skin under the sun rays shining bright during the mid-afternoon sun, “and I will continue to do so at any given minute. I need to make up for all of that lost time—every single minute; every hour I’ve let you slip through my fingers. You deserve to be treasured, loved and cherished for the rest of your days and I will do just that if you allow me to.”
“What exactly are you asking me?”
“I’m simply asking that we allow things to ride out and perhaps the tide might just take us somewhere beautiful.”
He giggled, “do these sonnets just live in that pretty little head of yours?”
“My head is more than just pretty,” you challenge.
“I know that,” this is the giddiest you’ve ever seen Jungkook be. In recent times he had adopted a sort of hard shell, which he often wore like a shield but today as he leaned on his kitchen island with his head propped up on his palms he looked elated, “I just like the way you describe the potential of there being an. . us.”
“Do you like it enough to give things a chance? Maybe even go on a date?” the tremble in your extremities gave away just how truly nervous you felt, though you tried your best to hide it. You’d never asked anyone out before but for Jungkook you were willing to make the first move.
She’s so poetic with her affinity for love. I like the way her eyes light up when she talks about us being together.
“How about tomorrow?”
“I’m free tomorrow.”
The following day was a blur overshadowed by a nimbostratus cloud which swept in a vicious squall with gusts so powerful your room was left a literal mess as you spent hours prior to Jungkook picking up frantically looking for the perfect date outfit.
Now, you sat in your little casual red dress in the passenger seat of the car Jungkook borrowed from his best friend. Your balmy sat atop your thighs and you tapped your fingers lightly on your heated skin.
The night sky was beautiful—drowning with a million of bright stars and a moon so illuminating it spotlighted your path. Nightlife here roared with vibrancy and the sidewalks were congested with people bar hopping or looking for dinner spots among other things. This scene had great capability in finally claiming your attention away from Jungkook and his sinful thoughts but it was hard. Every single image Jungkook painted within the beauty of his mind blasted in your head seemingly like a framed art piece in a gallery. Except, the only difference was that roaming around a museum was peaceful, whereas Jungkook's wandering thoughts made you quiver and sent glacial shivers down your spine.
For the duration of the ten minute car ride he’s use the weapon known as his mind and managed to peel your clothes off, re-imagining the way your mouth moved on his cock, then, within seconds he painted a picture of what it would be like to fuck you against the hood of his car. You’d admit the depiction of you against the cold metal bumper with your dress hiked up to your waist, while he pounds into you relentlessly really was more than enough to ignite (with the man sitting behind the wheel; eyes hyper focused on the road ahead; and his tattooed knuckles gripping the steering wheel), about a million fantasies you wanted to fulfill with his assistance.
But the urge to have the heat of his touch roam every inch of your body became abated when Jungkook parked his car and you found yourselves sitting across from each other in the red booth of a seafood restaurant on the pier. The incandescent bulb overhead did very little to irradiate the space between you and yet Jungkook still looked as radiant as ever. The muffled and incessant chatter of the patrons scattered throughout the establishment became similar to the buzzing of bumble bees and truly you weren’t really too sure you could make out conversations they engaged in.
You were kind of nervous and although you’d hope it wasn’t too obvious you couldn’t help the way your eyes scanned the room and your body failed to comply with the simple order of sitting still.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Jungkook sat up on the leather seat and looked off outside the glass window drinking in the vicious waves as they crashed against the golden shore.
You look beautiful every single day.
“Thank you,” you smiled, “I see your signature black boots have finally made a comeback,” you followed his eyes out to get a view of the roaring sea, “I thought you might’ve grown out of them.”
This look—tonight was the epitome of teenage Jungkook core and you couldn’t help but savor the brief stroll down memory lane. Of course, back in high school you’d always had a tiny little crush on him and while you worked to get over it; that was not an issue today. You were gawking—practically drooling at how amazing his biceps looked under the sleeves of his white tee, his black jeans hugged his thick thighs and his hair was tied half up half down and of course those damned black boots.
“They’re my secret weapon. I just keep them in the back of my closet for special occasions.”
I also know they were always your favorite look on me.
“In that case, I’m honored that a night with me is considered a special occasion enough to bring out the boots,” Jungkook finally turned towards you, his eyes shining bright like jewels even in the shitty lighting.
“I figured it fit our little slice of history perfectly.”
“Don’t tell me these were the exact ones you wore that day?
“They are the exact same ones.”
“I thought you would have gotten rid of them with everything that transpired,” you whispered; talking about the past still felt taboo.
“I contemplated that many times,” he shrugged then proceeded in a timorous voice, “but I just couldn’t. There is an abundance of bad memories attached to them but the memory of my first kiss trumps all negatives.”
“Your first kiss?” Your shock was evident and for a second you had to look around just to make sure you weren‘t too loud but the people around the two of you were too into their own conversations. They were oblivious to the little corner you and Jungkook occupied towards the back of the restaurant—in your own little world, “I-I was your first kiss?”
He nodded before taking a small sip of his water.
“Jungkook?”
He looked at you, “what?”
“Are you being one-hundred percent serious. . I was your first kiss?”
Jungkook pressed his lips into a tight line causing his cheeks to become impaled by his chasmic dimples; then, he closed his eyes briefly before taking a deep breath, “I was a loser in high school. Of course, I was spared a few friends but in the ‘love’ department I was lacking severely so naturally no one was ever interested in pursuing anything romantic with me. Until, that afternoon when the girl I’d been crushing on finally walked up to me in the bathroom.”
“If I could go back in time and embrace the feelings that I had for you, Jungkook just to tell you how I actually felt I’d do it in a heartbeat,” your heart beat rhythmically in your chest and quickly you began feeling fatigued as if your air supply would be cut off if you didn’t peel back every single one of your layers and confess exactly how you felt.
“If I could go back in time and tell you what I actually felt despite the consequences I’d also do it in a heartbeat,” he murmured, taking your hands in his.
“Good evening and welcome to Under the Sea, can I get you started on anything tonight?” the server approached. Her hair was tied up messily and she wore a black polo and black pants while carrying around a small notepad and pencil in her hand. She seemed friendly but a bit overwhelmed—though, you couldn’t really blame her, this place is leaning a whole lot towards chaos.
“Yeah, we’re ready,” Jungkook said, a fib of course, the two of you had been too busy talking to scan the menu before she came over, “I’ll take the Cioppino. Anything looking appetizing to you?”
“I think I’ll take the Paella.”
“And for drinks?” she asked scribbling away on her notepad.
“I’ll have a Coke.”
“Same here,” the two of you handed back the menu, “thank you.”
“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she smiled before walking off towards the kitchen.
The rest of the night at Under the Sea was brief and while you and Jungkook indulged in small talk here and there the two of you were starving and more concerned about getting something in your stomach. After leaving the busy restaurant Jungkook led you in the opposite direction of the parking lot towards the small park across the street from the beach. Right under the live oak tree there was a blanket laid out with numerous flameless candles flickering their feeble light around the very spot. As you got closer you noticed the basket sitting next to the blanket on the grass and the rose petals scattered around.
“Jungkook. .” You became stunned at the attention to detail of the man before you. Everything looked so beautiful, “you did this all? W-when did you even have the time to set this up?”
“I set everything up before our date and I know some of the workers from the restaurant and asked them to check in every once in a while and bring our snacks out like five minutes ago so nothing would spoil.”
“You prepared snacks for us?”
“More like I cut-up some fruits.”
“In that case I’m judging your knife skills.”
“Not too harshly though,” he tittered softly and airily. It mimicked the comforting tunes of lullabies, “come one, let’s sit. I have some things lined up for us tonight.”
You sat beside him on the velvet fabric, you folded your legs to your side and used one of the spare blankets to cover your lap. Before you there were two medium sized tabletop easels and a selection of paints and brushes.
Jungkook removed the white button up he’d left unbuttoned and kept on the white wifebeater. For the first time you finally had a full view of his sleeve; on full display. The black traces filled in with colorful shades adorned every inch of his right arm all the way down to his wrist. You had the urge to reach out and trace every single pattern but you held back—you and Jungkook were good but this is the beginning stage; first you have to dip your toe in and test the waters.
She’s staring at my arms. . Be calm.
Don’t flex. . Don’t flex.
Dammit.
He flexed, reaching up to brush a stand of hair back and out of his face.
You smiled, “so, what’s supposed to be our inspiration for painting tonight?”
“Each other. You paint me and I’ll paint you.”
“Jungkook, I’m a lousy painter,” you whined.
“The point isn’t for it to be good,” Jungkook began brushing soft strokes on the canvas, “it’s about the creative process. . the ideas that your mind interprets into art.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” you scoffed.
“Art didn’t always come easy to me.”
“How did you know this is what you wanted to do for the rest of your life?” you finally picked up a brush and squeezed a dash of paint on the wooden palette, allowing your hands to work freely—to create.
“The first time I drew anything for others to see was in high school,” his eyes were gleaming with thoughts of reminisce, “Ms. Julie, reached out to me sophmore year, said she needed my help designing the yearbook cover for the seniors that year.”
“I remember the cover that year,” Jungkook looked over at you and there was a layer of joy featured on his face, “it was absolutely beautiful and I also remember every single cover after that being just as amazing.”
“Thank you,” his cheeks were a crisp crimson now, “I designed all of the year books every year after that as well. Actually, I still help Ms. Julie from time to time even now.”
“That’s amazing. It’s truly a gift that your hands possess and I’m so glad we get to see what they create.”
Jungkook stopped his movements all together, his gaze no longer set on the easel, instead he looked downward, his cheeks still burned bright, maybe a little more now than before and by the paced heaves of his chest he seemed to be calculating his every breath.
“Thank thank you,” he stammered.
“And just so you know I intend to shower you with compliments, so get used to it.”
He beamed, “what about you?”
“What about me?”
“What are your passions?”
You shrugged, “Hm, I was never really good at anything back in highschool and while I knew I had to do something. I had a really tough time figuring things out.”
“But then. .”
“Then, I did an internship at the daycare on campus the summer before classes started and I realized how much I love being around all of the kids,” you said, “and at that moment I automatically knew what my major would be, come the fall semester.”
“Funny how life works right?”
“One-hundred percent.”
The cool draft of the expeditious night swept by softly allowing you to leave behind the once scorching afternoon. Right now, you became a resident in your very own slice of heaven and in your head the only people around for miles were you and Jungkook. For the past thirty minutes, the two of you haven’t crossed many words, you were too focused on contextualizing the perfect artwork—one that’ll remind him of you wherever he sees it.
Now, you were not an artist by any means but you tried nevertheless. The best interpretation of him you could come up with was to depict the sheer contrast between the different versions of himself.
The two were slightly different yet when meshed together working symbiotically to make Jungkook the perfect mixture of tranquil, mesmerizing and lulling all in one.
Your canvas was split in two—one side you painted baby blue with music notes substituting the clouds in what would be the bright afternoon sky and and a lousy excuse for a guitar sitting on the bottom. This was the version of him that lived inside and the one only a few people got to see. His mysterious aura and great passion for music. Then, on the opposite side you painted a black background in combination with it there was an abundance of colorful art supplies scattered all throughout. This one represented what he chooses to show and what many saw on the outside on his day-to-day course.
After some finishing touches you moved back on taking one last look at your work, “okay. . Here, I tried my best but it’s not your face. Just some things that remind me of you.”
“Let’s see,” he hummed excitedly, waiting for you to turn the canvas around.
“Be nice, okay?”
“I will, I will.”
When Jungkook was excited there were a lot of distinctive actions that communicated with his body and expressions. His eyes lit up like the explosions of fireworks on a summer night; his shoulders were raised up past his jawline and his cheeks burned bright.
“It’s not good, okay,” you beamed at his cheerfulness; it was cute how thrilled he was.
“It’s perfect,” he leaned closer to sneak a glance, “come on. Let me see.”
“Fine,” turning the canvas around felt like an invasion of privacy, although everything on it was solely about him, it was still like a clear window into your soul and how you saw him.
You’d never been this vulnerable before with anyone. Never.
He scanned the explosion of colors sitting in-between your hands. Jungkook’s lips curved up while the corners of his eyes wrinkled in amusement.
“This is amazing and absolutely the best depiction of everything I love.”
“Don’t lie to me, Professor Picasso.”
“I don’t lie about art,” he reached for it and you placed it in his hands, “and this is a masterpiece.”
You scoffed.
“I’m serious,” he argued, “this is going up on my art wall. Front and center.”
“This better be the only thing on your art wall,” you muttered.
Jungkook finally grabbed his canvas holding it close to his chest. . Well, as close as he could due to the wet paint, “Here’s mine.” he still had not turned it around for you to see.
“You know you actually have to turn it for me to take a look.”
He chuckled, “I know but nervousness is contagious. . Just gimme one second.” He took a deep breath before slowly turning the canvas in your direction and there you were. Same facial features, hair style and red dress you had chosen for the night. The talent his fingers convey is jaw dropping. It is evident Jungkook is an amazing artist through and through.
“Jungkook. .” You knew he was good; you’d seen the covers he had designed for the highschool yearbook back then, still, that didn’t prepare you for this in the slightest bit to see yourself from his point of view, “I don’t have an art wall but this will definitely be the beginning of one in my apartment.”
He guffawed while passing his painting over.
“I’m serious,” you continued, now closely examining his precise attention to detail. He got every single attribute down to the smallest scars and birthmarks, “your talent is impeccable. Just look at how amazing this is. It’s actually not fair at all. I want mine back.”
“No way! You can’t take back gifts you have already given away to someone.”
“Yes, I can,” you argued, “especially if my gift looks like shit next to yours.”
“It most definitely doesn’t. I already told you, I love it and it’s going up on my wall and there’s nothing you can do about it,” he leaned closer, placing a soft peck on your forehead and clutching the painting tight in his grasp.
You groaned admitting defeat, “but I am expecting a lot more paintings from you.”
“Always.”
Of course. As long as you’re beside me, and even if some day for some reason you aren’t, you’ll continue to be my muse forever.
His muse. You love the sound of that.
The sound of the pouring rain beat rhythmically on the glass window. For the next few hours your bed was your haven and Jungkook’s bare arms were your form of a warm blanket.
Although the clock on your night stand marked four o’clock, the day was as dark as night and as the sun refused to come out to play the dark nimbus clouds invaded the stretch of the expansive sky, refusing to allow even a single ray of light to illuminate your bedroom.
The power had gone out but the two of you had lit up some candles in various locations of your room. You were both in your underwear, semi-sticky with a thin layer of sweat coating your entire body as a result of the air conditioner no longer being on.
Even in the heat the two of you couldn’t untangle yourselves from each other.
“We’ve been laying here in the heat for hours,” his fingers raked over your shoulder and down to the middle of your back.
“There’s nowhere we can go to cool down for the day. I’m afraid these four walls are it for us today,” you complained.
“And moving will only make us hotter.”
“I think the two of us being tangled up like this is already making us hotter.”
His hands tightened around your waist, “yet there’s nothing you can say to let me go.”
“Then, it’s a good thing I don’t want you to let go,” you crossed your arms on his chest and laid your chin on them; looking up at him through your lashes taking in his figure as he laid back against the headboard.
“Why are you looking up at me like that?” he asked though his eyes were still closed.
“I just like having you. . here.”
“In your room?” he asked.
“In my life,” you confessed, “I guess I never thought we could make it here again.”
“I had faith—hope. I knew that eventually we would get to talk and forgive each other.”
Every fight and every bicker was a call to drive you closer to me. Immature I know, but it was all I could do and say to get close to you.
“You didn’t do anything wrong to me, Jungkook,” you traced lines over his collarbones leaving before sparks of electricity; you felt as they traveled down to the tip of your finger, “if anything I was constantly praying you’d forgive me.”
Forgiving you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.
“I walked away after Yeonjun’s party,” he caressed your cheeks with the pads to his finger, “that was my worst mistake and I knew exactly how it looked too; like I just hit it and quit it.”
“You didn’t hit it and quit it, Jungkook,” you sighed, “I did that to us. I was the one who walked away from us. None of it was your fault.”
“But I let you walk away. I didn’t fight for us.”
“Hey,” you cradled his face in your hands, “I didn’t let you fight for us. This is on me.”
But I never went searching for you. I just let you—walk away. The night you got up from that longue chair on the rooftop of Yeonjun’s house I thought that was our beginning; I just never thought it could be our end instead.
“It’s on us,” Jungkook leaned into your touch, softly moving his cheek against your palm, “but we can only work to overcome our past. . Together.”
You held onto the gold link looped around his neck, clutching it in order to pull him towards you until finally your faces were just an inch away from each other, “Together.”
“Kiss me, please,” his breath fanned across your lips as you continued guiding him closer and closer to you—his eyes were closed once again and he completely succumbed into this trance of your navigation. His lips were warm and velvet; parting slowly before they landed on yours. You became lost in the way your heartbeat continued beating faster and faster. The soft ballad of the steady thrumming tickled your ears and along with the taste of his mint lips on yours you began feeling a bit faint.
The room was still hot, the power was still out and you still sat on Jungkook’s lap but now you became exhilarated riding off the feelings in the way your body connected. It wasn’t just the kiss—no, it was also the way his electric touch began tracing the lines outlining your body, traveling down between your breasts, then down your stomach and up your sides until they rested on your hips. Jungkook’s fingers teasingly toyed around with the elastic waistband of your panties, rubbing small circles on your lower back.
You were breathless pulling away from that kiss but in between breaths you managed to pull his forehead against yours before allowing yourself to speak one again, “Jungkook, can I tell you something?”
He nodded.
“I-I want you, Jungkook,” your brain felt like it melted right into mush and there were no coherent thoughts in your head that didn’t revolve around Jungkook.
You were dickmatized. Yes, you were.
“You have me.”
“I want all of you.”
“Take it all,” he whispered.
Do anything you want to me. Do everything you want to me. Do whatever you want with me. I am yours for the taking.
You felt the beads of sweat strolling down your body accompanying the slight tremble in your every movement. Still, you moved with the facade of faux confidence and soon you found yourself straddling his thigh, sinking down against his heated and sticky skin. Indulging in a steady pace you began moving back and forth against his thigh all while holding onto his shoulder for support. Jungkook’s head fell back against the wall but his hands never left your waist guiding your movements to the quickened beat of desperation.
“You look so pretty riding my thigh. You know that?” he smirked; his cheeks were the tone of wine. Jungkook bit his lip to maintain focus on the sloppy motion he continued to maneuver.
You hummed entirely consumed by that heated feeling in between your thighs—entranced in the way his soft whimpers only guided you towards that very place where you could finally reach out and touch the stars.
“Fuck—fuck, keep going, yeah?” you stammered never ever wanting him to stop being the root of your every desire.
What gave her the impression that I’d stop? This. . Us, it just feels so right. I will never be able to live in a reality where the image of her getting off on my thigh could ever cease—not after today. Not ever.
“Just-just let me guide you, baby girl,” his voice was low and husk followed by a series of unpaced breaths.
“Take me there, Jungkook,” you moaned.
Oh, fuck—I’ll take you there baby. I’ll take you there. I’ll take you there.
His fingers dug into you while his fingernails left behind marks of deep crescents traced on your skin. The guidance of his movements was near animalistic and the fabric of your panties was now sticking to your juices and there was nothing you craved more than the desirous urge to unravel under the trance of Jungkook’s ministrations.
Back and forth; back and forth you moved reaching higher and higher as your fingertips brushed touch the points of the luminous star and before you knew your teeth sunk into his shoulders suppressing your moans and your hips no longer followed the rhythm he previously set and you were finally swimming in the night sky—so high; so satiated.
“Oh,” you breathed, “that-that was amazing.”
“You tired yet?” he asked.
“Not at all.”
Jungkook hugged your waist and flipped the two of you over; your bodies pressing together heatedly against the ocean of sheets, breathing heavily as your lips pressed together once again. His hands quickly dipped under the waistband of your panties reaching for your inner thigh, until you felt him press the pads of his fingers in between your folds smearing the combination of your juices. After his torturous teasing he slipped two fingers pumping them in and out of you quickly.
“Oh, baby,” he finally pulled away from your lips, allowing a string of whimpers to slip past your swollen lips, “you feel so fucking good.”
“Jungkook, faster please,” you rocked your hips to match the beat of his fingers moving in and out of you.
“Is that what you want?” he hummed, “tell me. You want to cum at the mercy of my fingers?”
“Yes-yes. That’s what I want please.”
Jungkook laid beside you on the bed with his face buried in the nape of your neck. His hand still worked diligently to get you off as he whispered soft praises against the shell of your ears. You were in your very own depiction of utopia—euphoric with stimulation of endorphins.
“I’m close-close, Jungkook,” you dragged your nails down his back, likely leaving streaks of red trails behind as he quickened his pace. Meanwhile, you felt your body temperature skyrocket and the knot in the pit of your stomach tightened until it could not become any tighter and for the second time that night you felt how the storm passed and once again you floated throughout the night sky.
While Jungkook strove to read your body like the ink inscripted into the pages of his favorite book; the absence of his wandering hands made you feel empty—as if you couldn’t really breathe. At all.
“What happened, baby girl?” his lips traveled downwards on your body while his hands finally worked to unclasp your bra, (two orgasms later you couldn’t believe you still had all your undergarments on), and now your breasts became the forefront of his attack and leisurely he took each nipple in between his teeth smirking at your gasps and shudders as a result of your sensitivity, “are you the one who can’t stand the rule of not touching today?”
“Ah—,” he lightly bit the side of your left breast before kissing it better, “the only thing I hate right now is that your dick isn’t in me right now.”
He laughed; the booming sounds struck just like the raucous cries of thunder just outside your windows, “what makes you think I’m gonna fuck you tonight?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I can feel how hard you are against my leg.”
“What? This?” Jungkook sat-up on the bed working to remove his boxers. When he finally did he discarded them to the pool of clothes somewhere on your bedroom floor while his cock sat before you like it had been a few days prior. Jungkook laid back down in front of you, placed a tender kiss on your forehead before he moved closer towards you, lifting your leg up and allowing it to rest on his hip. Once positioned he began rubbing the head of his cock against your clothed slit —especially focusing on the sensitive bud.
He traced the lines of your lips over and over until you couldn’t take it any longer and tears began filling your eyes and you chanted hastely begging him to fuck you right into the mattress.
“Please, Jungkook,” a needy whimpered rolled off your tongue, “please fuck me, please fuck me please.”
Jungkook was now on top of you and he reached down, moving your soaked panties to the side before he lined himself at your entrance. You closed your eyes anticipating that moment when his cock would slip in and stretch you out so good you’d feel full beyond relief. And just as you imagined he slowly pushed himself past your entrance, your mouth fell agape at the sensation of his cock invading you inch by inch.
The feeling was immeasurable and better than anything you’d ever felt before.
“Will you be okay if I move?” he asked almost out of breath.
You nodded frantically.
“Just let me know if you wanna stop at any point, okay?” he remained still.
You nodded once again.
Jungkook moved cautiously, setting a lento rhythm—almost as if he thought you’d break if he fucked into you too hard. His tattooed hand brushed your heated cheeks as he continued his agonizingly slow thrusts. The room was still silent for the most part except now in company to the pitter-patter of the pouring rain the two of you contributed your very own duet composed of his guttural groans mixed and your shaky pants.
His lips left sweet kisses behind on both of your cheeks, then your nose, your chin and lastly your forehead.
She looks so fucking beautiful like this; all sweaty and aroused just for me. Fucked out just for me. I’m so lucky. So lucky.
“Jungkook?” you tucked your bottom lip under your top row of teeth.
“Yes?”
“Deeper, please,” you whined, “not faster but harder. I want to feel you deep in me.”
Deeper? Fuck. She’s gonna be the death of me. I swear she is. I’ll fuck you just how you’d like baby girl. I’ll fuck you right.
“Okay—okay,” he stammered.
Jungkook stopped his movements and pulled out momentarily as he adjusted his position in between your legs. He grabbed both of them and wrapped them around his waist before pushing past your entrance once again, and yes, it felt just as jaw dropping as the first time. Jungkook’s pace remained lento except now whenever he was about to push back into you he made sure to lunge himself deeper causing the sounds of his skin slapping against yours to echo within the walls of your room.
“Oh, Jungkoook,” you let out a drawn-out moan, chanting his name repeatedly, “right-right there, oh, Jungkooook. Right there. Please don’t stop.”
He continued penetrating you just as you wanted until once again, for the third time that night, you were on the very edge of the planet. You could see the exact place where the sky met the earth. Trotting towards the phenom you felt the way your heartbeat quickened and finally as you approached you began clenching around him until you witnessed an explosion of stars behind your eyes; a feeling so blissful your knuckles turned white as you clutched the sheets underneath you in your grasp.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. .” he hissed pulling out quickly.
“What’s wrong?” you gasp at the feeling of emptiness now substituted by a ravenous void.
“I almost finished inside of you and we forgot to wear a condom,” his cock was held tightly in his hand.
You swiped your tongue on your lips, “would you like some help with that?”
“That is not how today is supposed to go,” he mocked.
“Fine,” you shrug, “but I was going to offer my body as an alternative.” Jungkook’s pupils become dilated, your words obviously peeking his interest, “come on my face, Jungkook.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Jungkook towered over you on the bed, kneeling right beside you on the bed—by now you were spent, too tired to do anything but lay there and admire the way his head hung back as he worked to find his release. The design of his tattoos followed suit beginning all the way from his shoulder blade, to his flexed and veiny bicep all the way down to the tight clasp of his finger around his shaft moving hastily from base to tip.
“Look at you, baby girl. All eager for me to come on you,” Jungkook said through clenched teeth, “you’re so naughty for me. All for me.”
“All for you, Jungkook,” you repeated, “I can’t wait to feel just how warm you’ll be on my face. Come on, baby. ”
Your mantra of praises rolled off your tongue semi-automatically but you were needy to feel his seed on you so you continued using your words to aid him in the process of jerking off. He continued moving his hand up and down his length until the tip became painted white with drops of pre-come.
“I’m almost—” he cried out; his guttural whimpers sent waves of glacial shivers interlacing with the ridges of your spine.
“Yes, Jungkook. Be a good boy.”
“I am a good boy,” his labored breathing came out in puffs, “I am. .”
“Then, come on baby. I’m waiting.”
Jungkook was immersed in what you knew was likely the build-up of his approaching release. His chest inflated and deflated rapidly, while the muscles in his stomach tightened accentuating his already sculpted physique while his cheeks turned a bright scarlet.
“I’m coming!” He cried out.
The spurts of his white semen painted your face as he worked himself to the very last drop. Even in his moment of release Jungkook was careful enough to aim towards your mouth and chin and you licked everything within reach of your tongue.
“Let me get a wet rag and I’ll clean you up okay?” Jungkook stood from the bed and placed a kiss on your forehead before walking towards your bedroom door and opening it up.
A few seconds went by and suddenly you heard a loud shriek and a plethora of muffled words which sounded a lot like your best friend, Hoseok. Not a lot of time went by before you saw Jungkook enter the room frantically before slamming the door shut and leaning against the wooden surface.
“Hoseok’s home?” you laughed.
“And Jimin.”
“And they saw?”
“Mhm.”
“Please remind me to never leave this room naked again.”
“Yes! Please remind him!” Hoseok yelled from just outside the door.
A bursting titter erupted between the two of you and Jungkook climbed back into bed with you before he helped you wipe off the mess he’d made on your body, then laid down beside you.
“Can I ask you something?” You began snuggling deeper into his embrace.
“Yes?.”
“Will you stay here tonight?” You asked barely above a whisper—barely audible.
Jungkook rested his chin on the crook of your neck, “of course, I’ll stay with you tonight.”
There was no place you’d rather be than embraced in the solace of Jungkook’s warmth.
Tonight, tomorrow, and forever after that.
I’ll always stay with you.
-
-
-
an: you know what im about to say right? ignore the smut scene ~if you must~ it literally took me like two weeks to write because my brain wasn’t working >.<
i literally started working on this like a week before seven released…. *gulps*
#bts#bts smut#bts angst#bts reactions#bts imagines#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#bts jungkook smut#bts jungkook au#jungkook imagine#jungkook drabble#mentions of literally every member + txt’s yeonjun
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The Adam Masterlist
A/N: Red = Smut
Constantly being updated
The Devil works hard but I work harder
Chapter Stories
Guardian Angel 1/3
Guardian Angel 2/3
Guardian Angel 3/3
Adam’s Sinner 1/3
Adam’s Sinner 2/3
Adam’s Sinner 3/3
Milk & Cookies 1/2
Milk & Cookies 2/2
The Third Wife 1/2
The Third Wife 2/2
Come Inside 1/2
Come Inside 2/2
Failed 3 For 3 1/2
Failed 3 For 3 2/2
Oneshots
Adam x F!Reader Smut
Jealousy, Jealousy
An Angel & An Overlord
Sensitive Wings
Fucking the Guitarist
Fallen Angel
Virginity
PTSD
Not Today
Shower Sex
Sharing (is Caring)
The Incident
Asmodeus’ Daughter
Hands
20 Years in Eternity
I Wanna Be Yours
Oxytocin
Stay With Me
Hangout or Hookup?
Inches
Father Adam
Too Far
You Catch More Flies With Honey
Tails
My Bandmate’s Sister
I Was In A Band
Consent King
Father of the Year
Panties Thief
Peak Orgasm
Short Oneshots
Moronsexual
Brat
Before It All Went Wrong
Made With Love
I Love You All The Same
Happy Birthday
Ugly
Niceness Ploy
Headcanons
General Adam Headcanons
General Adam Headcanons pt.2
Adam’s Sensitive Wings
Adam Comforting Reader
Protective Adam
Adam x Insecure Reader
420 with Adam
Gay Panic
Adam Receiving a Gift
Domestic Life
Platonic!Adam w/ Child!Reader
Crush
Platonic!Adam w/ Teen!Reader
Adam x Seraphim Reader
Low Sex Drive
Freak
Toys
Toys pt.2
Caught
Period Sex
Adam x Elysia!Reader
Consent is Key, Kids
Adam x Reader w/ a Bad Period
Adam x Affectionate Reader
No Touching Challenge
Drunk Adam Headcanons
Male Reader
Adam x Cocky M!Reader
Adam x Exorcist M!Reader
Adam x Innocent M!Reader
Extermination & Mistakes
Oblivious
Cocky Bastard
#hazbin adam#adam x reader#oneshots#smut#fluff#hazbin alastor#hazbin angel dust#hazbin charlie#hazbin husk#hazbin vaggie#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel#hazbin lute#x reader#hazbin lucifer#hazbin sir pentious#hazbin niffty
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Hello I am craving angst.
Hey can you do a headcanon for the slashers? [Maybe Slasher X reader] Like could you do headcanons. What if the Slashers found their SO has been killed?
or Maybe headcanon for Slashers if they accidently killed their so?
Sorry if my grammar is bad.
Slashers Reacting to the Death of Reader
Slashers x Reader (Individual)
Warnings: Mentions of death & killing, some cuss words, ANGST
A/N: All aboard the angst train! I kind of combined your request so some of the Slashers are about Reader accidentally being killed by them and some are an "outside" murder.
Freddy Krueger
He specifically told you not to come into his Dream World tonight
It was too chaotic, too much going on
His victim was a lot faster than he had anticipated
So he did his best to catch up with them
But he just couldn't seem to get close enough
So finally, Freddy's anger took over and he caused the sky to rain knives onto the poor teen
Once things were silent, he walked over to his victim, only to see another body laying further back
Freddy's breath caught
He ran over and saw you
You weren't supposed to be here
He told you not to come
Your eyes were already glazed over when Freddy picked you up
His eyes were going hazy, and he was staggering to your shared bed
He laid you down, your blood immediately soaking through the sheets
And it was only then that Freddy screamed a terrible sound into the world
The whole town would soon be reduced to nothing
Michael Myers
God, he didn't mean to
He just couldn't stand it in that moment
You were upset with him, arguing about how he can't just disappear for days on end without so much as a word
But he was just pissed
None of his killings went as planned, he could barely feel a thing, and here you were yelling about him not being around
It was too much, and he just needed the sensory overload to stop
His mind went dark
It felt like just a moment until he gathered his senses
But when he was able to finally focus, your limp frame was in his arms
Your neck was severely bruised, and there were still fresh tears on your cheeks
He couldn't have done this... right?
He kneeled there with you in his arms
He didn't cry, didn't yell, didn't even move
He just stayed frozen in that position, feeling absolutely nothing
Whatever humanity he had left, it died with you
There was nothing holding him back now
Jason Voorhees
There had only been a couple circumstances when a victim escaped Jason
And even then, none dared to go anywhere near those woods again
Except for one
For some reason, the death of his friends was too much
He was seeking revenge
Jason was inside the cabin cleaning up his machete while you were out picking flowers
You were wanting to make him a flower crown
He immediately dropped everything when he heard a single gunshot ring out through the desolate area
He sprung up, walking out to find you
It didn't take long before he saw a man leaning over a body, apologizing profusely over and over again
When he realized who was lying on the ground, he immediately ripped the man's head off, not even wasting a second
He lifted you in his arms, frantic on what to do
With your last moments, you struggled to smile and grip onto his hand, giving him a silent reassurance
He watched you go limp in his arms
He laid there with you for an eternity, feeling utterly lost
By the evening, he had a gravesite set up for you, and he was already packed
He was going to head into town this time
He would make sure there would be no survivors
Thomas Hewitt
It was just a freak accident
Thomas had gotten in up in the middle of the night while you were sleeping, slipping away to the shed
However, you had no idea where he had went
Fearing the worst, you walked out into the night, looking around for him
But in your worried state, you forgot about one of the traps set up outside
You accidentally triggered it and was immediately impaled
Thomas heard the trap go off and quickly rushed over to it
The moment he saw you, his heart dropped
He ran over and held you, trying to get the trap off of you
But you pleaded with him to leave you be, knowing your fate already
He was frantic, begging and crying with you to let him help
But you knew it was too late
You reached out and touched his masked face, offering a warm smile before your head dropped
Thomas took care of your body, having his family help make a gravesite for you
He was never the same after your death, and he became the most brutal killer out of everyone
Bubba Sawyer
The newest victim was willing to do whatever it took to survive
In a frenzy, they didn't even register what was happening
They saw you and immediately stabbed you in the stomach, quickly sprinting away thereafter
You screamed for Bubba, your body unable to move from the pain
It didn't take long for him to come to you, the area being filled with his whimpers and gasps of fear
He tried to turn you over, but it only caused you to let out cries
He was looking around frantically, trying to figure out what to do
But you just asked him to lay with you, knowing that help would never make it in time
He did as you asked, you both crying together
The moment you went silent, the air was filled with his screams
He was inconsolable
The moment he found the victim hiding away, he did his absolute worst to them
He didn't care about food in that moment
He wanted to invoke as much pain as possible
Your body was carefully tucked away in bed, Bubba refusing to leave your side for days
Brahms Heelshire
You were hoping to surprise Brahms, sneaking out in the night to pick some berries for tomorrow's breakfast
He normally slept like a rock, giving you ample time to complete the task
However, this night, he found himself awake to an empty bed
When he discovered you about to walk out the door, he went into a rage
How could you abandon him like this? Didn't you love him anymore?
He grabbed at you viciously, not seeing anything else but red
You tried to plead with him, telling him that you weren't going to leave
But this all fell on deaf ears
He wasn't thinking, he just grabbed at you and slammed you into the ground, your head bouncing from the force
He only stopped his attack when he saw the empty look on your face, and suddenly everything began to sink in
He froze up and began to cry, collapsing on top of your body
He didn't mean to
He pleaded to you that he didn't want to hurt you
He ended up placing your body on the couch, tucking the doll into your arms
At least this way, there was no possible chance that you could try to leave him again
Norman Bates
He blacked out
He didn't mean to, but something inside of him snapped when he noticed Mother's things had been misplaced
When he finally came to, you were lying in your shared bed, a knife sticking straight up from your chest
Norman became hysterical, not understanding what had happened
"N-no, no, no...."
He cried into your shoulder, holding your body close to his
It didn't take long for his mind to become numb, his teary eyes staring dazedly off into space
He ended up pulling another chair next to Mother, sitting your body beside hers
Mother always loved you, and Norman was sure she'd appreciate the company
It's okay, he reassured himself
You're home with him and Mother
He has his family still
Nothing is wrong
How could it be? You're still here with him...
Billy Loomis
You didn't tell him where you'd be tonight
It was just supposed to be a small get together, nothing important
So why did it matter?
But little did you know, Ghostface would be making an appearance
Billy was quick to get through the small group, eventually making his way around the corner to the next room
However, as you turned to figure out what was going on, your body ran straight into him
Not wanting to have a victim slip from his grip, he stabbed the knife into them quickly, not wasting any time
However, the moment his gaze tilted up, he saw those familiar eyes
As your body dropped, he caught you, ripping off his mask
"(Y/N)?! What the hell are you doing here?! You're supposed to be at home-"
"Billy?" you croaked out
"It's me, baby. Oh my god..."
His voice broke and the tears began to slip down his face unwillingly
Your eyes began to flutter, and he started to shake you in his arms
"Don't you dare fucking do that. You stay with me, alright?"
But your eyes soon glazed over, and Billy found himself yelling at your lifeless body
"DON'T DO THIS TO ME! DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME!"
Without you, there would no longer be mercy
Stu Macher
It was supposed to be a fun night together
It wasn't unusual for you to join Stu on his sprees
He loved having you by his side, being there to help him do something he enjoys
But this group was different than the others
They fought back
And when there was only one person left, they somehow managed to grab a nearby kitchen knife and slam it straight into your chest
"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Stu screamed
He took his own knife and slashed a gaping wound into they're neck, killing them quickly
He kneeled down beside you, taking your face in his hands
"Hey, hey! You're gonna be okay, alright?"
But you just shook your head
"Look at me. Look at me!"
You did your best to meet his eyes, trying to stay conscious
"I'm gonna get you out of here, and then we'll- (Y/N)?!"
Your eyes had closed, and your head drooped in his hands
Stu began to scream, begging and cursing for you to come back
Eric Draven
One of the first rules Eric gave to you was to never go looking for him at night
It didn't matter how late it was or how long it had been
You stayed home where it was safe, no matter what
But on this night, you broke his rule
Eric was supposed to be back hours ago, and yet you were alone in your bed, worried sick
You eventually gave in and went out into the night, searching for him
But unfortunately, someone else was watching you, quickly jumping out and stabbing you in the neck
They took your wallet and ran, leaving you to bleed out on the sidewalk
But it was only a matter of seconds before a familiar figure ran up to you, placing his cold hands against the wound in your neck
"Goddammit! What did I tell you?!" Eric cried
You tried to speak, but nothing came out but warm blood
"(Y/N), please don't go. Come on, you're strong. Stay with me"
You reached your bloody hand out, caressing Eric's cheek softly before your whole body went limp in his arms
His cries could be heard echoing throughout the night
Without you, he has nothing
#slashers x reader#slasher preference#slashers headcanon#slashers preference#slashers#michael myers headcanons#michael myers x reader#michael myers#halloween#halloween movie#jason voorhees headcanons#jason voorhees x reader#jason voorhees#friday the 13th#friday the thirteenth#thomas hewitt#thomas hewitt x reader#texas chainsaw massacre#the texas chainsaw massacre#brahms heelshire x reader#brahms heelshire#brahms heelshire headcanon#the boy 2016#billy loomis x reader#billy loomis headcanon#billy loomis#stu macher x reader#stu macher#stu macher headcanons#scream movie
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side blog for reblogs: @mcntloup
🌙Feel free to request (no hardcore smut, anything else is fine). If it inspires me, I will do it, but please don't expect it to be done soon🖤
🌙Any comments/feedbacks/tips are welcome; just please be respectful🖤
🌙English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes🖤🥲
Masterlist Pt2
Series
Worth It
Close Call
What if...?
SUGAR
Endure
We'll meet again
Passion Part 1 | Part 2
Eternal Oblivion
Patience
Mornings for the Riley family
UndergroundBoxer!Simon Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Bestfriend!Simon Part 1 | Part 2
I miss you
Panic
Taking Care of Him
Riding Simon
König Smut
Period Comfort
Pregnancy Comfort
Together
Pregnancy Sex
Valentine's Day
Good Boy
Proposal (You)
Proposal (Him)
Complete
Pre-Ghost Simon Part 1 | Part 2
Make Love
I know, baby! I know!
His Angel
Nightmare
Pre-Ghost Simon x ChildhoodBestfriend!Reader Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Pregnancy Angst (miscarriage)
Going to the pub with Simon
Giving Birth
RetiredHusband!Simon
Mine
Love Is Not Enough | Part 2
M!Character x Fem!Reader Smut
Taking Simon's Huge Cock
Insecurity After Pregnancy
heavy heart
Gonna Wife You Up
König Smut 2
What the fuck are you listening to?
Corruption Kink
Price's Bratty Daughter | Part 2
Come Back
Dad!Simon Calming Your Crying Baby
Child I Will Hurt You
Ex-Husband!Simon
Ex-Husband!Simon Fucking You in the Guest Room at a Party
Skin to Skin Contact
Being there for him when an old wound flares up
Period Sex
Love Making
If Simon Riley falls in love
You call your Ex-Husband in a panic | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Tender moment after Simon fucks your brains out
Simon takes in a teen whose family has been killed in the war (Platonic)
Price's bratty daughter getting punished by Ghost
Chilling with Simon on the couch
Comforting Simon when he has a panic attack
Simon getting heart-eyes when you breastfeed your baby
M!Character x Fem!Military!Reader Smut
Stalker!König
Having rough sex with Simon for the first time but you get hurt
Queen!Reader proposing to Knight!Ghost
Simon inspecting your pussy (idk man)
Pretend
Sitting on simon's lap
ghost x insecure reader
Knight!Ghost saves Queen!Reader from an attack
it'll fit!
Riding Simon's bicep
Being stuck in a safe house with Simon
Quiet, lovie
heal
Simon having pregnancy symptoms during your pregnancy
Stay | Part 2
dividers by @cafekitsune
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#cod x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost riley#ghost simon riley#cod fanfic#ghost cod#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#cod mw2#cod#mw2#call of duty#cod modern warfare
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One More Hour
Idol San x (f)Reader
Summary: If Choi San was sure about one thing, it was the love that occupied his heart, his love for her. She had become everything he needed, everything he believed in and everything he worshipped, not a thought that went by that wasn't followed by a thought about her. The only problem was, his undying love for her, was a secret known only to her, not the people he had been living with since his teens.
Genre: Fluff (a tinge of angst) (simp San, technically they're both hopelessly, dramatically inlove- i do not regret this)
Warnings: None
A/N: Choi San's got me whipped, I just can't. Please remember to show some love by 💗 and reblogs
With her cheek squished against his cotton-clad chest, she felt his warmth slowly lull her to a state of blissful sleep, their heartbeat synchronized as he hummed a familiar, yet random tune, perhaps it wasn't the tune that was familiar but his melodic voice that could compete with angels.
She had long forgotten the plot of the movie, too engrossed by his presence, arms squeezing his waist, pressing herself closer into his side, his hand reaching to rest on top of her head, fingers caressing through her hair. It had been long since the two had spent time together like this, just enjoying each other's presence, basking in each other's warmth. So, when given the opportunity to take a day off, when everyone else had other things to do, he chose to stay at home alone, unknown to the rest of the members that instead of sleeping in, he had decided to spend the evening with his significant angel. Calling her over with a well-formulated plan, since everyone was leaving and coming in late, he had told her to drop by earlier and he'd drop her off before they arrived back home, meaning the two could spend some time together- both knowing even an eternity spent together wasn't enough.
It's not that he didn't want to tell them or that they wanted to keep it a secret, it's just that company at the dorm was… something noone preferred, possibly due to this being the only place of privacy they had. More importantly, he didn't want to introduce her as just her girlfriend, his brain had been buzzing with a certain idea he wasn't sure if she was comfortable with, which is why he had been waiting for the perfect opportunity.
"Sannie…" her hushed voice rang in his ears, earning a hum in return she paused, eyes darting to the wall clock as a sigh escaped her lips, finally causing him to look away from the screen to scan her face, eyes tracing the subtle frown of her brows and pouted lips- "What's wrong-hey" he called out, trying to hold her still as she slipped away, sitting up straight, "Where are you going?" his own pout making its way to his face, mirroring the sad look in her eyes.
"It's six, Sannie, I need to get going before it gets too late," she mumbled, trying to make her way over his sprawled-out legs to the other side of the bed, only for him to gently push her down, ignoring her high pitched, over-dramatic squeak, climbing over her form as her head hit the soft mattress pinning her down, glaring up at him, his grip on her wrists tightened, pushing them down next to head. "Don't go." his whine not even remotely representing the death grip he had on her, his whole body engaging her, face pressed into the skin of her neck, lips pressing against her pulse, stretching into a smirk at the feeling of her breath hitching.
"One more hour," mumbling against her skin he traced his lips up the column of her neck to her jaw, trailing soft kisses to her ear, "I'll drop you home myself, just…one more hour."
"But Sannie- uff" her whine was cut off as the air was pushed out of her lungs, thanks to him putting his entire body weight on top of hers, rubbing his nose against her cheek, "You have been detained, due to the horrendous crime of breaking your boyfriend's heart."
"I'm about to die." wheezing out she tried to pull her hands out of his death grip or at least shove him off, only to fail and whine in defeat. His chest vibrated as a chuckle broke past his lips, proud at how all that time at the gym had paid off, before pulling himself off her, only to hover over her, his hands letting go of her wrists, to cup her face, thumbs brushing over her warm cheeks.
"Just one more hour," he whispered before placing a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose, smiling at how she scrunched her nose in response.
"Tempt me to stay."
Words that had no malice or implications, in truth she just meant food or a tasty treat, nothing else of any sort but a fact that slipped her mind. A thought and a fact about how the big, shy, feline-eyed man of hers was a pervert. A sinister smirk replaced his easy smile, eyes gleaming at the way her smile had faltered upon the realisation of the innuendo that could have been behind those words- mind you she had not intended for there to be any.
.
"You perv." was all she could manage to huff out, chest heaving after the tedious, tiring yet exhilarating session, staring up at the false ceiling in post haze. His pillow felt cold under her head, her body shivering, more from the buzz of the aftermath than the cold. Laying on his side he watched her features, the way her gaze seemed to be unfocused, lips slightly parted, cheeks puffed out and pink, propping himself up on his elbow, he reached over to caress her cheek, neither concerned about the time anymore.
"Shower?"
"Yes please."
With a quick shower, the two had returned to their usual spot on the bed, after San had oh so kindly changed the sheets. He had forced her to wear his hoodie, only for her to insist he give her something to wear underneath too because it was cold and much to his displeasure he had to give his gym shorts, even after he had explained how he'd keep her legs warm even without anything, only to receive an "I've had enough of your nonsense for one day, Choi."
"What are you doing?" her words broke the comfortable silence, catching him in the act, and stopping him from pulling the covers over the two. She had allowed a cuddling session to commence but never approved of anything more, it was almost nine and she had to go- no, he said he'd drop her off- no, she'd rather go alone to avoid anything else.
"I thought we could rest…for a bit…you know…" clearing his throat he looked around, "After all that fun."
"And who decided to have that 'fun', huh?"
"You. It was actually you." with that he pulled her closer, holding her close as she struggled against him, "Don't worry, I set the alarm, just one more hour." she paused looking up at him, as he leaned down to press a sloppy kiss on her forehead, "Just one more hour, I promise."
.
"That was by far the worst film you could have ever forced us to watch." Mingi sighed, opening the door and entering the passageway, kicking his shoes off, followed by the others.
"It was an art film," Hongjoong argued, locking the door behind him, noting how Seonghwa had been neatly stacking everyone's shoes, in order only to pause at a pair of Converse, one that looked too small for any of them.
"It was SHIT, that's what it WAS." Wooyoung called out as he headed towards his room, "A bloody day off and we decide to let him plan it- SAN WAS SO SMART FOR NOT COMING." he stopped by the kitchen, before swinging open the fridge, "I mean I get it, it can be in French or whatever language, but why did the dude become a slug and- this bastard…"
"What's up?" Yunho asked, ripping open a packet of instant ramen, midnight snacks are important. Motioning to Yeosang who nodded, signaling for a serving as well.
Slamming the door closed Wooyoung turned around and glared at them, "The asshole ate my cakeslice!"
"You mean the toothpaste one?"
"Not funny Yunho.Not.F*cking.Funny!"With that he stomped out of the kitchen, probably to confront the criminal.
"What's his deal?" Mingi, who Wooyoung slammed his shoulder into, stumbled into the kitchen, earning an eye-roll from Yuho and a quiet "He's insane" from Yeosang.
"Not mine," Jongho mumbled, staring at the shoes, both his hyungs humming in agreement. Hongjoong looked at the two, "Did San have company over? He never said he would- is he seeing someone?"
"Not that I know of?" Seonghwa mumbled, glancing at Jongho who looked up at the door when they heard the familiar keypad beep. All three stared at the door as the person of conversation walked in, the cap of his hoodie covering most of his beanie-covered head, his bangs peeking out from beneath. Pulling his mask down he placed the plastic bag on the floor to kneel and untie his shoes, only to freeze at the sight of the many shoes before him, slowly glancing up to meet the gaze of the three most judgmental members.
"I can explain." he began only for Seonghwa to snort, "We didn't ask anything yet."
"Listen, she was meant to leave- I- we thought you'd come later-"
"Please tell me, she is not a professional." Hongjoong cut him off, rubbing his temples, they could not and did not, need a scandal of sorts.
"Of course not!" he snapped, before biting back his tongue at the way Hongjoong stared at him, correcting himself, "No… she’s not a fling or a hookup, I swear she's special and I-"
A shriek cut him off, alarming everyone else too, "Shit!" Bolting past them he ran to his room, noting the door was open and from inside he heard, none other than Wooyoung, "I AM SO SORRY! I SWEAR I DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING!"
"Yah! What did you do??" He growled, stomping in to find his girlfriend crouched on the ground next to the bed and Wooyoung with his eyes covered by the doorframe.
"I CAME HERE TO BEAT YOUR ASS AND THEN I SAW- "He paused at the whimper, "I MEAN I SAW YOU MISS- NOTHING ELSE I SWEAR!"
San crouched down beside her trying to pry her hands away from her face, only for her to glare at him with teary eyes and hiss, "You asshole." Trying to shove him away but he pulled her into his chest, eyeing his shorts that she was wearing on the ground, oh, so she was trying to change her clothes- honestly, he had only gone for 40 minutes. He had woken up as soon as the alarm rang but with his quick reflexes, he turned it off, wanting to spend a few more minutes with her, call him selfish, clingy or obsessed, none of them was wrong. After a few minutes, an idea popped up in his head, which is why he had decided to make a little trip to the bakery nearby, to bring her something.
"So, this is why you didn't come with us today?" Wooyoung finally looked at the two, her face still hidden in his chest, San's hoodie covering her form, her grip on his sweater tightening at the question. This was it, it was all over, she would either be asked to leave or forced to leave his life, they’d take away the only reason why she woke up in the morning, the only reason she still had hope in the future of humanity- call her over dramatic but that was just how much he meant to her. His scent, his body, his soul, if she could she would keep begging the stars to make sure they are bound together for an eternity, surrounded by him, to keep her grounded. Though that was a distant dream now, one that was going to be snatched out of her hands, the very hands that were pulling him even closer, in fear, if he were to be pulled away from her so be it, but she would savour the few seconds she had left with him, to imprint his being in her soul, a memory she could turn to on rainy days. She had hopped he had not picked up on this little anxious act, but how could San be San if he hadn’t, the moment the question had left Wooyoung’s lips, he had felt her grip on him tighten, his heart growing three sizes bigger at this very act of love and want. He had noticed how she was clinging onto him, no longer out of embarrassment or anger, but fear- fear of uncertainty, the fear he knew had accompanied him the first time he had asked her out, the first time he had kissed her, the first time he asked her to become an official couple- that very day he had promised himself to never put her in a position where this fear would become a reality, yet here they were, about to face this demon, together for the last time.
"Good choice. The film was shit."
Her head snapped up to meet Wooyoung’s casual gaze, who shrugged, “Seriously, certain art films should be banned, and I’d rather choose to stay at home with a lady than go out with Hongjoong any day.”
San smiled at his best friend, eyes watering at the note of acceptance and approval, delivered in the most Wooyoung manner, but words of affirmation that both needed to hear. Slowly standing up he pulled her up with him, letting her adjust the oversized hoodie, “Thanks man, I appreciate-”
His words were cut short as Wooyoung raised his hand, “Not you, bastard, I still want to stab you, not only for eating my slice of cake but also for not telling us beforehand you had a guest, now she’ll think I’m a creep.”
“I’m sure she already thinks so.” Yunho peered in from the doorway, smiling at the girl who shied away, moving behind her boyfriend, who glanced up at Yunho, “Also, Hongjoong called for a group meeting and you’re invited too!”
.
With her clothes changed, she sat a good distance from her boyfriend, hands in her lap, the same lap that seemed oh so interesting that she had been staring at it silently while San was trying to explain how they met.
“So, let me get this straight, you have been together for four years and you thought not telling us, your ‘brothers’, would be a good idea?” Hongjoong asked, staring- no- glaring at San.
“Four years, three months and 23 days actually…” he mumbled, before noticing the way she was staring at him, with the most, ‘what the f*ck, dude’ expression she could muster.
“Is he a good boyfriend?”
“Does he treat you well?”
“Are you into dumb dudes?”
“Have your parents met him?”
“Are they scared of his face?”
It was the last question that had her choking on her spit, trying to conceal the laughter, that increased in volume after his whines became more apparent, he knew what they were doing, they were embarrassing him on purpose- a form of payback.
“Yes, yes, I uh…guess so and yes they have met him and no they find him to be very good-looking.” Finally looking up at them she smiled gently, the nervous atmosphere around them, maybe this wasn’t so bad. At his point she was glad that they had accepted her, or rather had approved of their relationship, it was as if a giant boulder had been lifted off her shoulders, and she was free to love him with the certainty of them being together.
He was thrilled to see how everyone had absorbed this, he knew they’d give him hell once she left, but it wasn’t because they disliked her, no, it was due because of his cowardice. It was he who made all of them promise to be transparent, yet here he was keeping one of the most important people in his life a secret, putting strain on the relationship with his lover and his members. The issue was no longer whether they would accept her he had found a loophole for that, he wanted to introduce her to them, really did, but he wasn’t going to introduce her as ‘just his girlfriend’. San slowly moved closer, hands reaching out for hers only to pause and stare at her, “Wait, did you just say I’m dumb?”
“I uh-
“So, did you wait this long to tell us because you were going to propose first and then tell us?” Wooyoung cut her off as she choked on air, her boyfriend too busy trying to pat her back, his face dusted with pink, the tips of his ears burning at the embarrassment of being caught. Whispering to her, “You okay?”
She glanced up at him through her lashes, whispering back coyly, “Were you going to propose?”
“Yeah,” he gave her that million-dollar dimpled smile, eyes turning into crescents, only to turn into cat-like slits with the most serious and judgemental expression, one that sent shivers down her spine. His head whipped in Wooyoung’s direction, “How did you know- oh you bastard.”
Holding the crumb-covered ring in his hand, showing it to everyone, his eyes met his best friend's glare, the plate of a half-eaten cake slice on his lap, an easy smirk making its way to his face, “That’s what you get for eating my slice.”
#wooyoung#ateez scenario#ateez imagine#ateez fluff#choi san#hongjoong#break the wall#seonghwa#mingi#yunho#jongho#fluff#x reader#x you#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#atiny#yeosang#song mingi#ateez#drabble#platonic hongjoong#atz x reader#atz imagines#choi san x reader#san x reader#san x you#san x y/n#ateez fic
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Daddy’s Little Monster
•Alastor x teen! daughter! reader
•Platonic, you sickos
•What if… Alastor had a daughter who wanted to be a serial killer too?
You woke up to a red sky. There was a great pain in your head, and your vision was blurry. Once you were fully oriented, you stood up. What was this place? It was like prison, and god, it smelled awful. When you looked up at the pentagram over the sky, it dawned on you. You had died. You were in hell.
It was no surprise why you were in hell. You weren’t the best human. You indulged in a bit of cannibalism, and wanted to be an assassin when you were older. Older. That was something you’ll never be. You were just 13, thirteen and dead. However, how you died was a mystery. You had no memory of how you died.
Could it be you were murdered? No, you hadn’t made many enemies. Maybe fell from somewhere high? No, you were too scared of heights to be anywhere high. Hit by a car? You were always careless crossing the street. Yes, that had to be it.
You looked down at your new form. You had bright blue skin, and dark blue hair(She kinda looks like Ruby Gillman). The hair in your pigtails was now in thick, tentacle, like strands. Your ears were similar to fins, and your limbs were long and stretchy. You were some sort of kraken.
It made sense you were a sea creature though. You had always found yourself fascinated with the sea and the animals that inhabit that. You wished that one day you would be able to dive in there, and never have to return to the surface. You had longed to be down there with the fish and the animals. It felt like home more than the surface ever did.
You felt…at peace in hell, like you wanted to stay here. Sure, it was a little rough around the edges, but it felt like home. But your friends…everyone you left behind. Wouldn’t they miss you? For a moment in time, you wanted to go back. Go back to tell your best friend you loved her one last time. You felt her pain and her tears, and it broke your heart. But you can’t change the past. All you can do is love her and remember.
You decide to walk around your new environment. The buildings look old and run down, and people are fighting. You pass a porn studio, and laugh to yourself. Hell seemed like the kind of place where a giant porn studio would be a normal occurrence. Something catches your eye. A vending machine for drugs. You think about it for a second, but decide not to get anything.
You walk near a place called Cannibal Town, and saw some demons eating a guy. You wanted to join in, the taste of human flesh lingering in your brain, fueling your desires. In front of you was a singing demon, with a resemblance to a porcelain doll. She seemed to improv her whole song, and it amazed you. You loved to sing, and was impressed by her skills. You wanted to tell her, but you would feel bad for interrupting her song.
After exploring hell, you found a street corner to cozy up in. As your first day in hell concluded, you thought to yourself ‘is eternal damnation as bad as I thought?’
______________________________________
•Hi! My names Vicky, I’m a sucker for platonic au’s. My head cannons take a while, but if my requests are open, I might make your idea for a fanfic, so be sure to ask.
•This was fun to write and it is not done. I’m just tired.
•Part 2 •Part 3 •Part 4 •Part 5
#hazbin#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor the radio demon#radio demon#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x reader platonic#alastor x reader#alastor x reader platonic#Alastor x teen! reader#fanfiction#platonic#platonic x reader
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When The World Is Free: Chapter 12 - Je T'ai Dans La Peau
MASTERPOST
PREV | NEXT
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.
Warnings: Teen-rated... non-graphic references to sex/sexual situations.
Word Count: 2.7k
Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. Our couple are sneaking around Aubrey Hall, trying to get time alone together, but it was always going to be noticed by a certain eagle-eyed mama. Sorry this has taken a while, life got very busy. Thanks as always to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!
Aubrey Hall, UK, September/October 1939
It's the early hours when you finally get a moment alone with Benedict.
Throughout the evening, including a raucous but entertaining family dinner, your attempts are stymied at every turn. At the end of the evening, Eloise shows you to your guest room and lingers long after you have gotten ready for bed, waxing lyrical about Phillip, her plans to get a place in London (“Come with me!”) and her ambitions to get a job at the British Library.
You listen as intently as you can, but your eyes droop as you climb under the covers, the bed so plush, promising her you are still listening even when you settle into the pillows. At some point, you drift off, maybe her as well, but when you awaken, your wristwatch says it is after midnight, and she is gone from your room.
Just as you are drifting again, there is a soft knock at your door. You wonder if you heard correctly at first, but when it happens again, you sleepily alight from your bed. Upon opening, the sight before you has you wide awake - Benedict, looking cosy but dashing in navy blue silk pyjamas. After a quick check that the corridor is clear, you grab his arm and haul him into your room, closing and locking the door behind you.
You look at each other, breathing heavily for a beat, then crash into each other, him grabbing you and hauling you off the ground into his arm, your legs winding instantly around his hips as you kiss greedily, hungrily. He groans, cupping your jaw and kissing you more, always kissing, until you are breathless for air. Your need for him is like an eternal flame, burning slowly all the time, but the second he touches you, it roars, awakening something primal, a physical need that burns your lungs and aches deep inside.
“Can we?”
“Can we what…?” He replies, lips sliding to your neck.
“Have sex?”
“Oh god…I didn't bring protection,” Benedict rues, sinking his forehead onto your shoulder.
“Benedict!” you whine, a touch petulant.
“I’m sorry… I will go get it…” he offers apologetically.
“Don't you dare leave me again so soon,” you growl, winding yourself tighter around him.
He chuckles. “Then perhaps maybe we can just find pleasure in other ways…” his promise dusky as he lowers you onto the bed.
Half an hour later, you are staring at the ceiling, panting, utterly sated as he once again used his mouth to bring you to a shaking pinnacle, your cries muffled into a pillow.
“We must find somewhere private,” he sighs, his face resting on your belly as you card your fingers through his thick hair. “I like to hear you scream…” his wistful, cheeky addition makes you gasp and swat him gently on the shoulder. He laughs heartily and crawls up over you on all fours. “We can steal away somewhere on the grounds where no one would find us,” he assures, eyes shining in the low lamplight.
“I shall keep you to that promise, Mr Bridgerton,” you threaten softly, pushing his shoulders until he lies on his back, you hovering over him now. “Do you think you are capable of being as quiet as I was?”
“Why do you ask?” a flicker of confusion over his face, until your hand slides down his flat stomach and lands upon the warm bulge in his pyjamas.
“I would like to return the favour…” you offer, as his breath hitches beautifully. “I have never used my mouth as such, but you will teach me, won't you? Tell me what you like?”
His groan is like music as you shuffle lower, looking up at him with fluttering eyelashes as he stares down at you with utter devotion.
—
Bright sunlight slices through a gap in the heavy velvet curtains when you stir, sad to be alone. Benedict said he would leave at some point in the night but insisted you fall asleep in his arms.
As you descend the main staircase, Eloise catches up to you, looping your arm in hers and dragging you to breakfast. It's a far cry from your trips to the boulangerie together for croissants. It is a full buffet with gleaming silver chafing dishes lined up on a sideboard.
“Is your life here always like this?” your mind boggles as you help yourself to scrambled eggs and some bacon.
“Yeah, pretty much. Boring, right?” She pulls a face.
“Your idea of boring is so very different to mine…” you respond drolly, pouring a cup of coffee and taking a seat at the ornate, long dining table.
No one else appears to be taking breakfast now, but as Eloise natters away, you always have one eye on the doorway, hopeful Benedict will come in. But he doesn't, so you agree to a post-breakfast walk around the estate with her to enjoy the unseasonably warm, early autumn day.
However, as you head to the door, Violet appears as if from nowhere.
“Eloise dearest, I hope you did not forget our plans today…?”
You watch Eloise turn around in slow motion, a pained expression on her face. “Surely that can wait?” she appeals before tilting her head back towards you. “Mother is under the impression that now I am back home, I wish to join the Woman’s Institute,”
“We only meet once a month, and today is that day,” Violet attests, looking at her expectantly. “You have been abroad for the best part of a year, my dear; I would appreciate this quality time with you.”
It's the most loving, motherly manipulation, and you can tell by the way Eloises’s shoulders slump that she cannot argue that point.
“Come with me?” she appeals brightly, tugging your arm.
“Only members are allowed, my dear.” Violet cuts in calmly. “Next month, I can petition for y/n here to join, but she would have to wait until then.”
As you observe their back-and-forth, Benedict appears, wandering down the main staircase, dressed casually in a collarless shirt and brown trousers. He looks so good that you are tongue-tied, wanting to run to him and jump into his arms. You realise you are staring and have to tear your eyes away quickly, but it's too late. You can feel Violet’s watchful eye, made worse by knowing you have a darkening blush over your cheeks.
“Good morning, ladies,” he breezes, doffing an imaginary cap that makes his wedding ring catch the sunlight.
“Benedict dear, Eloise and I are off to Canterbury today. But perhaps you could show y/n around the estate grounds while we are out?” Violet breezes, fixing her son with a winning smile.
His eyes shoot to you and yours to his, a warm flicker behind your ribs at the thought you get a few hours alone together.
“Yes, no problem,” he smiles, attempting nonchalance.
“Don't do anything I wouldn't do…” is her parting shot as she gently drags Eloise towards the car outside.
“That covers a lot of ground; she's surprisingly daring,” Benedict states drolly as you watch them pile into the vehicle.
“Do you think she suspects something?” you ask faintly as you both stand in the doorway waving.
“Perhaps…” he concedes, not looking at you. “I suspect this was at least partially engineered. Not that I am complaining,” he adds hurriedly as the car pulls away.
“Same…” you offer quietly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
—
You are staring at the wispy clouds puffing gently over the sky, the long grass lush under your back, the midday early autumnal sun warm on your skin as you lay naked, entwined together in post-coital bliss on a remote hillside of the estate.
“You kept your promise, Mr Bridgerton, to find us a secluded spot together.”
His crooked smile is boyish, and his eyes dance in the sunlight. “Indeed, I did. And I greatly enjoyed your screams,” he teases with a wink.
“Stop it,” you demure, burying your face into his armpit, enjoying the scent of his skin there.
“Don't be bashful now,” he chuckles, rearranging your bodies so you are under him, his head resting upon your chest. “I would keep any promise I made to you,” he continues after a pause. His tone sincere, his breath dusting warm over your nipple, and his ear pressed to the skin on your sternum as if listening to your heartbeat.
“And I to you,” you confess, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers mapping a constellation of freckles near his shoulder blade.
“Will you be wanting a divorce?” his question is almost hesitant—like he is torn between wanting to know and not know all at once.
“Would you want one?” you volley back, knowing it’s cowardly to answer his question with another.
“I see no reason to,” his words are quiet as he tilts his chin to look at you. “I do not plan to marry another,” he adds pointedly.
“Me neither…” you answer, meeting his gaze imploringly, wanting him to believe it. The last thing you want to do is go back to America now. You want to stay here with him—for as long as he will permit.
“You will stay here?” There is a hopeful lilt in his voice, his left hand lacing with yours, wedding rings pressed together.
“I have my freedom to remain in this country. I wish to be nowhere else but here…” Your answer is so dangerously close to a confession of what you genuinely feel, but you hold back, even as you know your heart is now thudding hard under his ear.
“Here with me?” he flips up onto all fours and climbs over you, that beguiling smile seeming to capture his whole face.
“Yes, with you, if you’ll have me…” you smile back at him as he looms above, his face in shadow, his hair a riotous halo around his head, backlit by the sun.
“Oh, I will have you plenty of times…” his promise dusky as his lips land on yours.
“That sounds like a promise, Mr Bridgerton…” you join in the banter between kisses.
“And you know I keep my promises,” he smirks before grasping both of your hands in his and stretching them into the tangle of wildflowers above your heads as you get lost in each other's bodies again.
—
And so it continues, night after night, days becoming weeks. Stealing away precious moments together whenever possible, knowing the risk you are running but unable to resist any opportunity, physical longing takes over, falling into each other, desperate and yearning. As if a part of you lives under each other's skin. Every night, he comes to your room long after the house is asleep, and every night, you fracture around him, your ecstatic cries muffled into his dewy skin.
The clandestine nature is partly not wanting to confess to Eloise but also to keep it a secret from the world—a precious, rare thing, just a fledgling you want to shelter. Give it time to breathe and grow. Although, on some level, you know that Violet knows. Her glances at you both, when you are in the same room, feigning nothing untoward, are too pointed. Yet she says nothing outright.
It's two weeks since you settled into Aubrey Hall when Eloise is in a sour mood one morning. She had just received a phone call from Phillip, and you suspect their London rendezvous has been delayed again.
“Why the hell are you still wearing that?” she grouses uncharitably, pointing at your wedding ring.
“It means a lot to me; it’s a symbol of our escape,” your answer is a partial truth.
Eloise can’t seem to find fault with that, so swings her attention elsewhere. “So what's your excuse?” she gruffs to Benedict, who is reading the paper on the opposite sofa.
Across the room, you sense Violet's pause in her jigsaw puzzle.
“Why does the jewellery I wear bother you so much, sister?” he evades, crumpling down his newspaper to shoot her a withering glance. “I’ve never heard you comment upon my signet ring.”
“That's completely different, and you know it,” Eloise decries. “That's a ring you inherited from Dad. Also, where were you last night?” She abruptly changes the subject.
“What do you mean?” he bristles slightly.
“I went to your room late to borrow the Agatha Christie book you stole,” she pauses to pull a pointed face. “And you weren't there. Your bed didn't even look like it had been slept in.”
“Are you my mother now?” he rebuffs airily. “If you must know, I couldn't sleep either; I was out.”
“Your car was here…”
“Out as in outside,” he shoots back, “walking the grounds by moonlight.”
He's not lying. He is, however, omitting the fact that you were with him. The summer house by the lake has become your new clandestine spot, fashioning a comfortable bed of towels and pool lounger cushions. You can make love passionately in secret without fear of interruption or being overheard, falling asleep wrapped in each other as you stare out of the French doors at the blanket of stars reflecting on the still water.
Eloise gives him a lingering side-eye but returns to the book—Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile. Once she is distracted, your eyes dart to Benedict, and he gives you a reassuring smile that you can't help but mirror, even as Violet peers at you mutely once again.
—
Later that day, you are perusing books in Anthony’s office when a painting of a man who looks remarkably like Benedict makes you stop short. Violet seems to materialise beside you.
“My husband, Edmund,” she explains, her voice wistful and evocative of the ache of lost love, undulled by the passage of time. “True love is a wondrous thing; never let it slip through your fingers, and treasure every moment,” she counsels, twisting to look at your face.
“I would never,” you answer quietly, even as you steadfastly refuse to do the same, staring at the painting, heart speeding up.
“That's a good thing, my dear, and don’t worry about the judgement of others, especially those who are spirited and headstrong.” She can only be referring to Eloise: “They all come around eventually, believe me.”
At that, you have to look at her askance, unable to hide the nerves on your face. “You know?” unable to resist any longer.
“I know my children better than they know themselves,” she responds lightly, “and I certainly know when they are hiding something,” she adds softly, saying but not saying so much.
It feels like a weight is lifted from your heart, the undeniable urge to confess to someone - unable to do so to your usual companion.
“I have no idea how to tell Eloise,” you rush out. “This was never my plan, not what I intended to happen,” you clarify. “Benedict sacrificed his future to give me my freedom.”
“You sacrificed yours too…” she gently interrupts.
“But I never wanted mine,” you admit, your eyes drifting back up to the handsome man in the painting as if admitting it to Benedict’s dad as much as his mum at your side. “At least, not once I met your son…. I thought I knew what I wanted in life. But I was a fool. And now… I….” you trail off, unable to finish.
“You love him, don't you?” It's a delicate, comforting inflexion.
“I can barely believe it myself; it's been such a short period of time. But yes…” you admit sotto voce, hanging your head as a tear wells in the corner of your eye.
“As I said, I know my children better than they know themselves,” she repeats, wrapping an arm around your back, “and I know when one of them is hopelessly in love.”
Your head jerks up in surprise, and you finally look into her kindly gaze, your heart a kaleidoscope.
“Yes, my dear. It may take him a while to say it,” she qualifies, “but it's no less true.”
That tear escapes your eye as she pulls you into a motherly hug. Already knowing this will be a secret you keep between you, for now at least.
“Welcome to the family, y/n.”
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Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaa
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enhypen as romance tropes - maknae line
pairing: enhypen maknae line x gn!reader genre: fluff (little angst in ni-ki's (?)) cw: nothing i think wc: 300+
sunoo - high school sweethearts
sunoo was the first friend you made in high school, but both you and him knew this would not stay a friendship forever. you both cared and treated the other one the way friends don't treat each other. he loved going out with you and shopping for clothes so he could see how happy you were in the clothes you were trying on. he took you on a picnic date on a warm summer day, and that's when he asked you to be his partner. you said yes without thinking. you've been waiting for this moment to come.
jungwon - fake relationship
your crazy ex-boyfriend wouldn't leave you alone. he kept texting you, your "we will never get back together"-s flying past his ears. your friend recommended you to fake a relationship with someone, so he might give up on wanting you back. the cute guy in your arts class got surprised when you asked him to act like your boyfriend whenever your ex was around. you reassured him that it would be just a few days, maybe weeks, so he agreed. but both you and him started catching feelings slowly, and those "few days" ended up being (hopefully) an eternity.
ni-ki - childhood friends to lovers
you knew everything about him. you grew up together and have been through highs and lows. you caught feelings for him in your early teens, but you swept them under the rug. you kept your cool until one day ni-ki told you about him going out on a date with a girl. you spent nights crying and then acting like nothing happened the next day. before he could've gotten into a relationship with that girl, you wrote him a handwritten letter, telling him about your feelings, and put it in his mailbox. he showed up at your house the same day at night, confessing his mutual love for you. he then stayed for the night, cuddling and kissing you; something he has been wanting to do for so long.
#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen headcanons#enhypen imagines#enhypen drabbles#enhypen x reader#ni-ki#nishimura riki#ni-ki x reader#yang jungwon#jungwon#jungwon x reader#kim sunoo#sunoo#sunoo x reader#ni-ki fluff#jungwon fluff#sunoo fluff
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Ikaris: Maybe I was wrong
Kingo: Karun! Come here with your camera!
#Karun eternals#marvel incorrect quotes#incorrect marvel cinematic universe#incorrect marvel quotes#avengers incorrect quotes#incorrect avengers#incorrect eternals quotes#kingo#ikaris#captain america#eternals x teen reader
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The premium version of human is here to wreak house, mfs.
[Twst x ObeyMe!AFAB!reader]
CHP. 7
Again, I thank y'all for the reblogs, likes and comments guys, it really helps me :)
CW: Blue pronouns or address for MC every time they get mistaken for a guy. Also, I'm a potty mouth so MC is too.
Inhale..
Exhale....
Inhale......
Exhale.......
Inhale.........
Ex-fucking-hale.......
You're about to have a stroke right now.
You should've just went back to the goddamn infirmary instead of checking in on these obnoxious, bitch-less, probably father-less, motherfuckers.
It's just cleaning windows!! How the hell can you mess up like this?! Why the fuck did the cafeteria chandelier get involved??
GODDAMNIT!! WHY IS YUU INVOLVED AS WELL?! AHHHH—!
*One eternity of screaming like a banshee later*
After sending those damn kids and cat away to get some sort of magical stone in some godforsaken mine, you wrangled with the headmaster for at least two hours to prevent him from writing up the expulsion papers of Yuu and that Blue-haired kid who was mostly innocent about the ordeal.
(Meanwhile, encouraging him to kick that Ace kid and the damn cat off the school. You ain't about to let audacity run free rn, mostly because you feel yourself start genuinely tweaking as you almost got possessed by the urge to sucker punch someone's soul out of their body.)
[Satan perked up, there it was again.
That distinctive spark of wrath that he can feel through your pact with him is both concerning and comforting.
On one hand, the anger he feels means that you're alive. And seeing that what he's feeling through the pact is mostly annoyance, then that must mean that nothing marginally bad or traumatizing had happened to you yet.
You're actually more pissed off in a 'someone-had-the-audacity-to-eat-my-snacks' kind of way more than anything else, meaning that you're safe for now.
But on the other hand, he doesn't know how long that temporary safety will last.
There's also the fact this is the fourth time he'd felt that spark of 'I-wanna-punt-someone-into-the-fuckin-sun' kind of anger from you, which is worrying because it hasn't even been 48 hours since you were kidnapped by some mf.
He shook his head, calling upon a subordinate (read: Devoted fan) to collect more and more books to learn what type of teleportation and sleeping magic was used in your kidnapping.
With the massive search party spanning all three realms that they'd called upon, they will find you sooner or later.
And once they do...
Well... You'll need to get used to being with someone at all hours of the day.]
*Passive-aggresively reminding Crowley that he can't kick out an innocent kid for something they didn't directly do as they had no way of stopping the events that transpired.*
["You don't want the word to get out that you let an innocent teen roam around in a foreign world with absolutely nothing to their name and nobody to protect them, right?"
"That is true, but I still can't just let this go unpunis–"
"Especially when it's the school's faulty equipment that took them so far away from all of their loved ones and belongings, right?"]
Needless to say, Yuu ended up being "fired" in the end, quite an unfortunate result because they will need to freeload off of you until the end of your stay in this world. (Poor them, they got fired before they knew that they had a job in the first place.)
Oh well, it's better than being kicked out from practically their only way back home right now...
Hays... That cruel crow..
Anygays, it's time to snoop around and hopefully make some connections to the residents of this school.
This is a well-known college, right? So there should be influential people here somewhere...
Hehe.. It's time you bring out your gaslight, gatekeep, gold-digging skills so that you can girlboss your way into stability inside this foreign world.
• • • • • •
Suddenly, more than a dozen individuals felt a strong shiver run up their spines.
Haha... Well that's ominous!
• • • • • •
Ortho deadpanned at his brother.
It seems that almost burning down their dorm room last night isn't enough to deter him from making his [Mr. L/n x reader] fanfiction complete with mandatory fan art for every single chapter.
Haaa....
But at least his brother isn't 'fanboying' about another fictional character again...
Hm... Now that he thinks about it..
Maybe his brother will be more inclined to make friends if it's Mr. L/n!
And thus begins Ortho's journey of being an unknowing wingman as he tries to get his introverted brother to make friends.
• • • • • •
You narrowed your eyes as you looked at the small gift on top of your temporary bed in the infirmary.
Dats suspicious....
Dats weird......
You turn your necklace into a staff and start poking the box, trying to see if it'll suddenly turn into a horrific eldritch monster and jump you. (Won't be the first time that happened.)
• • • • •
"It is done, ××× ×× ××××××" (This is too easy to guess😑)
• • • • •
Diavolo sighed for the tenth time that hour, lamenting how trying to focus on his paperwork is a really hard task when MC gets thrown into the situation.
'Maybe a small break will help clear my head?'
He might as well just go out for a walk in the garden to get some fresh... air...
Oh? what is this?
His eyes scanned the dark envelope he'd seen wedged under the 'To burn' stack of paperwork in his desk.
This envelope wasn't here yesterday...
After confirming that the piece of paper wasn't cursed or charmed, he opened it with apprehension.
...!
This..!
• • • • •
Barbatos appeared in the office, tense as he'd heard his lord call out his name with haste.
Reading the letter shoved in front of his face by the serious Diavolo, Barbatos made a mental note to get the dungeon chambers ready.
They've got themselves a lead.
← Pr.6 | Chapter List | Chp. 1.1 →
Just tell me if y'all wanna get added in the permanent taglist, even if I already tagged y'all here.
That's just so I'll know if you wanna get tagged in all the upcoming chapters of this fanfic.
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Reblog or I'll take your ankles😈 (Pls like and reblog, it really gives me motivation🥺)
Also, the next chap is the start of Arc 1: Satan but short.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#crossover#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me mammon x reader#obey me leviathan x reader#obey me satan x reader#obey me asmo x reader#obey me beelzebub x reader#obey me belphagor x reader#obey me barbatos x reader#obey me diavolo x reader#obey me mephisto x mc#obey me solomon x reader#obey me simeon x reader#twst x obey me#obey me x twst#twst x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#obey me x twisted wonderland#x reader#reader insert#polyamory#fanfic
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Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Nine
Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader
Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader
Chapter Nine: Going Clubbing Goes Wrong
Summary: Angel's friend Cherri shows up, and Charlie decides that sending everyone for a night on the town is the best idea while she and Vaggie go to Heaven. It isn't the best idea. Not at all.
Warning: Valentino is very much Valentino in this chapter, even towards the MC. It is only a few sentences, but please use your discretion for what you feel comfortable reading. The MC does not get touched or hurt or approached, but they do get talked to.
“Oh, fuck,” groaned Angel as he nearly fell into the hotel. He looked thoroughly exhausted from his work. Valentino was making him work harder and longer every day, and Angel just wanted to crash and have the rest of eternity off to sleep.
“You look messy! What happened to you?” said Niffty.
“It’s who happened to me,” huffed Angel. “And the answer is everyone. Twice. Val had me working sixteen hours straight on a fucking whim. The absolute dick bag.”
“He sucks,” agreed (Y/N) as Angel threw himself onto the couch next to them.
Boom!
The wall (the same wall as usual) exploded. Everyone jumped and stared, ready for a fight.
“What the fuck is with that wall?!” said Angel.
“What up, hoes?!” said an Australian voice, and a woman walked in through the hole in the hotel’s wall.
Angel’s mood brightened. “Holy shit, Cherri Bomb?! Long time no see, baby!”
“Angie, ya bitch!” said Cherri in a very friendly manner. (Y/N) decided they liked her energy, and since Angel actually seemed happy to see her, they determined their feeling was right. “You been texting me depressing shit all day, figured we could tear shit up like old times. It’s been fuckin’ forever!” She tossed a bomb to Charlie. “Here, hold this.”
“Ah! Oh my God, oh my God!” said Charlie.
“Nope, gimme that.” Vaggie took it and threw it out the hole. It exploded in the distance (thankfully).
“I love seeing ya, Cherri,” said Angel. “But I’m too tired. I need to pass out.”
Cherri grabbed him before he could leave. “Oho, you can sleep when you’re double-dead, fuckhead. Come on, what you really need is a recharge, a reinvigoration, a re—”
“Responsible night on the town!” finished Charlie, smiling. “That is a great idea! Hi, I’m Charlie.” She shook Cherri’s hand. “That’s my wall that you just blew up. It’s so nice to meet one of Angel’s friends. Aagh, he never brings anyone around!”
Cherri snorted, but it wasn’t totally unfriendly. “Wonder why?”
“Yeah, me too!” Charlie was blissfully ignorant to the tease. “Anyway, Angel and everyone else have been working so hard. I think they deserve to have a little fun.”
“Wait, ‘they?’ ” said Cherri.
“Yeah! Hi, everyone!” called Charlie, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Angel and his friend are taking you all out for a night of fun and relaxation.”
“I don’t really think it’s going to be relaxing,” said (Y/N), but they were interested. This was another experience they’d never had in their life, so they wanted to try something new in death.
“Great,” huffed Cherri.
“Don’t worry, Cherri,” said Angel. “They’re not so bad.” He grinned at (Y/N). “You’re gonna like the kid.”
“Yeah, but I’m only here for yo—” Charlie shoved money into Cherri’s hands to cover everyone. “Ooh! Never mind! Let’s go! Come on, kid, I’m gonna make your first time out the best time.”
“Wait, are we sure we should let (Y/N) go—” Vaggie’s (rightful) concern was cut off as the portal to Heaven opened up in the lobby and Charlie squealed.
“Bye, everyone!” said Charlie, grabbing Vaggie and pulling her through. She couldn’t wait another second.
(Y/N) grinned. “Finally, I can try drinking.”
“I’m keeping my eye on you,” said Husk.
He needed to for two reasons. One, he liked (Y/N) and didn’t want them getting hurt. Two, he was certain Alastor would torture him if anyone happened to (Y/N) (which was an odd thought but Husk didn’t have the energy to really think through that, he just knew it was true.)
The portal to Heaven disappeared, and Pentious appeared in the lobby. He froze as he saw Cherri and straightened in an attempt to seem confident.
“Well, if it isn’t my archnemesis!” he said. “Have you come to meet your fate in battle, Cherri Bomb?”
“Apparently, I’m going out with Angel, and I got to drag your sorry asses along,” said Cherri.
Pentious brightened and slithered up to Cherri. “Oh, so, you and me are going out back for fun?” He tugged on his bowtie nervously. “I…I didn’t think this would ever happen. What? What do I do? What do I wear?” He put his hand on Cherri’s shoulder, and she grabbed it.
“Don’t fucking touch me, you munted dickhead,” said Cherri, walking off.
Pentious just blushed, staring at the hand she’d touched.
Wow, that’s a pair I didn’t expect, thought (Y/N), despite having only met Cherri two minutes ago.
“Come on, ya fucks! We’re heading out!” announced Cherri.
It was time for a new experience. ((Y/N) hoped they enjoyed this one. They wanted to make some good memories in their afterlife).
l
“Woo! Isn’t this place the fucking best?” cheered Cherri at the bar of the club.
(Y/N) stared at the drink in their hand and downed it. They had discovered they liked the alcohol in Hell and decided a little indulgence couldn’t hurt. (Not too much, though. They could feel a headache coming on, and the last thing they needed was to hurt their poor roses. That being said, doing something that would have made them angry made (Y/N) happy). And, hey, they were with friends, so it couldn’t be too bad. Right?
“I’ll admit, ‘Consent’ is a good name for a sex club,” said Husk.
Never mind, they brought me to a sex club. (Y/N) sighed. Whatever. I’ll just stay over here.
“Niffty, dear, what are you doing?” said Pentious, staring at Niffty as she swept the nightclub floor.
“I’m sweeping. Ugh, look how icky it is in here,” complained Niffty.
“That’s because we’re at a club, dear,” pointed at Pentious, not unkindly.
“Oh! I thought the hotel looked different,” said Niffty, looking around properly.
Pentious cleared his throat and looked at Cherri. Again, he attempted to seem cool. “Ms. Bomb, I-I’d like to buy you a drink,” he stammered.
“Why?” Cherri grinned. “Didn’t you say we’re arch-rivals?”
“Um…uh…because I’m buying everyone a drink!” A terrible excuse, but it worked.
Everyone in the club cheered and rushed up to the bar.
“Thanks, Sir Pentious!” said (Y/N).
“Are you seriously into this, kid?” said Husk, raising a brow.
“This tastes good,” said (Y/N), lifting their refilled glass.
Husk sighed. “Vaggie and Charlie are gonna hate this.”
“I did worse with the loan sharks,” they chirped.
Husk gave another, long-suffering sigh.
“I need a drink after today,” said Angel, sitting down beside them all tiredly. “You know, Val, he’s into this waterboarding shit now, I don’t know, it’s a kink.”
“Sounds like torture,” said (Y/N).
“It’s exhausting,” agreed Angel.
“No, I meant literally.”
“Angel, enough with the Val talk. He already ruined your day,” said Cherri. She squeezed Angel’s shoulder. “Don’t let him ruin your night, too.” She pulled out a few pills from her pocket. “Here, take one of these and you won’t be worrying about nothin’.”
(Y/N) frowned. They weren’t certain that was the answer.
“Here we go,” murmured Husk, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, look, the drunk and the kid are judging us,” huffed Cherri.
“I ain’t the one trying to get into Heaven,” said Husk. He looked at Angel. “Look, you want to fuck up all your progress? Be my guest.” He huffed, and his ears flattened.
“I just don’t want you to feel worse about yourself after you come down,” said (Y/N). They knew Cherri was just doing what Cherri thought Angel wanted, but they wanted to make sure Angel was alright.
“Buzzkills,” said Cherri. “Come on, Angie, let’s get fucked up! It’s been too long.”
“I, uh, I don’t know.” Angel didn’t want to disappoint Husk or any of his other friends. And…they had a point. “It’s been a long night, and I don’t need to go too wild.”
Husk smiled, not a little proudly, and took a sip of his drink. He kept an eye on (Y/N) in case they started having too much. He was a hopeless alcoholic, but he wasn’t letting the kid spiral into that.
“Come on, bitch,” said Cherri encouragingly. “If you’ve really been working that hard, you deserve a little R and R, and some THC, or maybe PCP with DMT. Aw, fuck it, let’s see where the night takes us, huh?”
“I���I guess,” said Angel, shrugging noncommittedly.
“Cherri, I bought you a shot!” said Pentious, having finally gotten to paying for her.
Cherri frowned at him, and Pentious panicked.
“B-Because I bought everyone another shot! Hooray!” said Pentious.
Angel downed a shot. “Aah…fuck it! Let’s do it!” He grinned at Cherri.
Husk rolled his eyes. Suddenly, this night wasn’t that fun to him.
Or (Y/N). “Be careful, Angel.”
“He’s done it before!” said Cherri optimistically.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m saying it,” muttered (Y/N), watching as Cherri and Angel grabbed another drink.
The drinks kept rolling. ((Y/N) had decided to stop as soon as Cherri and Angel got going in case they needed help with anything. Yeah, pissing off the spirits of the dead…people-(Y/N)-didn’t-like-to think-about was great and all by drinking, but they weren’t going to just let their friends wander around).
“Round twelve, motherfuckers!” cheered Cherri. “Heels are comin’ off!”
“Oh, yeah, keep ‘em comin’!” said Angel. “Come on, right here, right to daddy!”
“Oh, it’s wonderful to have friends!” said Pentious, laughing wildly (he was drunk, but he was still drinking to keep up and impress Cherri).
“Everything’s spinny,” said Niffty, grinning as she tried to reach for another shot.
“Ha, I think you’re done, tiny,” said Angel, lifting the shot away from her.
“No! Gimme, gimme, gimme!” she pouted.
“Oh, come on, bitch, she can handle a little more,” said Cherri.
“She’s ten pounds and tiny,” said (Y/N). “And we don’t need her any more unhinged than normal.”
“Shit, where’d she go?” said Angel, looking around. Niffty had made a run for it.
“I’ll help you find her,” said (Y/N), standing. Husk could look after Pentious.
It didn’t take a moment to spot Niffty, cleaning the nightclub by collecting everyone’s drinks in a garbage bag. The patrons were not pleased with it and growing restless.
“Dirty, dirty, make it clean!” she said maniacally.
“Dammit, Niffty,” said Angel.
(Y/N) picked Niffty up before she could do more while Angel tried to placate the angry men.
“Sorry, fellas, here, next one’s on me.” He put money down on the table and smiled while they began to fight.
“Shit, Niffty, stop—Damn!” Niffty, seeing a supply closet, had squirmed out of (Y/N)’s hold and ran for the cleaning supplies within.
“Shit, shit,” cursed Angel.
“Angie, the fuck are you doin’?” asked Cherri, stepping in front while Niffty collected bleach and chlorine behind her. “You’re supposed to be relaxing, not playing nanny. Roses over here seem to has that down.”
(Y/N) gave her the middle finger (playfully) while trying to keep an eye on Niffty.
“Look, neither of ‘em are used to this scene,” said Angel. “I just don’t want ‘em to end up in the gutter like I used to.”
(Y/N) looked at Angel. That was surprisingly heartfelt for him. Yes, he was always deep down a good person, but he usually hid it behind his hypersexuality and acting. This was actual care and honesty. (Y/N) nearly smiled. It was heartwarming and one of the reasons they really liked Angel.
Not completely getting the idea, Cherri shrugged. “Whatever, nerd. Just catch up when you’re done.” She walked away.
Angel grabbed Niffty from the supply closet. “Stop, you can’t take that.”
(Y/N) put the chlorine and bleach away. “It’s not ours.” And you might poison people to clean them.
Stressed and frustrated, Angel huffed. “God, Niff, why are you bein’ such a mess?”
Niffty’s eyes widened. “I’m the mess?”
“Oh, dear,” said (Y/N).
Niffty wailed, and tears poured from her eye.
“Oh, oh, shit!” said Angel, realizing he’d messed up. “Hey, hey, hey, calm down.”
“You’re not a mess, Niffty,” said (Y/N), reaching up as best they could to pat Niffty’s back. “We’re all just being, uh, silly right now.”
“Right, right,” said Angel, nodding furiously. “You’re not a mess. It’s fine, sssh. You, uh, wanna play with the kitty?” He hugged her, and (Y/N) patted her back.
Niffty’s sobs subsided, and she hiccupped. “Yeah.”
Angel and (Y/N) didn’t waste time putting Niffty back with Husk. She sat on his head, petting his fur, and Husk stared up.
“The fuck is this?” said Husk.
“She’s wasted,” said Angel, sighing.
“Just go with it unless you want her to start crying or pouring bleach drinks for you,” said (Y/N) cheerfully.
Husk huffed. “Fine, fine, whatever.” It wasn’t like he could stop Niffty now, and no one really wanted to see what angering her could do.
“Aaah…” Pentious fell over from his…well, he’d lost count, but somewhere near his twentieth shot. “Hey, wow.” He looked at Cherri, hauled himself up, and slithered over to her.
“Oh, boy, he’s got his confidence again,” said (Y/N). “Wonder what’ll go wrong this time.”
“Maybe nothing will,” said Husk.
He and (Y/N) exchanged a look and nearly burst out laughing. They both knew that poor Pentious was still too insecure to fully follow through if Cherri questioned anything.
“Hey, so…I see the club has a sex room,” said Pentious. “So, I was thinking, maybe you’d want to, uhm…do a sex with me?”
“Yikes, points for confidence, but minus several hundred for style,” said (Y/N).
“I’m sorry, why would we have sex?” said Cherri, smirking.
“Uh, uh, uhm…” Pentious shifted nervously.
“Here it comes,” said Husk.
“Because I’m having sex with everyone here!” declared Pentious.
“Wow, he’s really crashing and burning on this one,” said (Y/N), almost impressed by Pentious’s ability to get himself into trouble (everyone was cheering and far too excited for Pentious to be free for quite a while). Sure enough, several people grabbed Pentious, and he was carried away for a long night into one of the sex rooms.
Cherri laughed and walked back to the group. “You know, we can do this fucking shit every fucking night, Angie. You don’t have to spend all your off hours ‘working on yourself,’ you little bitch.”
“The hotel isn’t his problem,” said Husk, holding Niffty over his shoulder. “It’s—”
“Valentino,” said Angel angrily.
“Exactly,” said Husk, and (Y/N) nodded fervently.
“Yeah, that guy is a piece of shit,” said (Y/N).
“No,” said Angel. He pointed to a side lounge. “Valentino.”
The moth was demon was there, in the club. He lay back on a couch, two demons curled up next to him as he smoked and crooned proudly about himself. He smirked, clearly at home and in control at the club.
(Y/N) had seen pictures of him (unfortunately) around Hell, but seeing him in person made them dislike him all the more. He reminded them of the men they’d seen on Earth who only looked at others as pawns, as objects to be used and thrown away. Disgusted, (Y/N) narrowed their eyes.
“Yeah, I come here all the time. They know me,” said Valentino to the two demons currently with him. He smirked at one. “You’re gorgeous. Do you need a job? How many dicks can you suck? I could make you a star.”
Angel shivered as Valentino spoke and looked at his friends. “Let’s get the fuck outta here. Ok, ok.”
(Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Niffty’s gone.”
Husk looked at his shoulder, and sure enough, the bug demon had disappeared. “Well, fuck.”
“Shit, Niffty,” cursed (Y/N), spotting her running towards the lounge Valentino was sitting in.
They moved as fast as they could, grabbing Niffty before she could get too close. Unfortunately (but when was the hotel’s luck ever good?), a clubber dancing bumped into (Y/N), and they and Niffty fell forward into the empty space in front of Valentino’s lounge.
“Fuck, fuck!” Angel reached down and grabbed (Y/N) and Niffty, but it was too late, and Valentino had noticed him.
“Holy shit, Angel Dust?” said Valentino. “What are you doing here, baby? You didn’t get enough dick today?”
(Y/N) was disgusted just by his voice, and when Angel held Niffty behind him and pushed (Y/N) back with his other pair of arms, they didn’t resist at all.
Valentino leaned forward, leering down at Angel, Niffty, and (Y/N). “Who are these chiquitas? You bringing me fresh meat?”
(Y/N) felt bile rise in their throat, and they inched farther behind Angel.
Niffty, instead, tried to lunge and bite Valentino, who instantly jerked back. “I just want a taste,” she said, grinning.
“Eh, weird, but there’s a kink for that, I’m sure,” said Valentino. He tilted his head and regarded (Y/N) next, and they fought back a shudder, refusing to show weakness in front of him. “And that one looks sweet. I know a ton of clients with a thing for that~. A little young, but after a little time in Hell, eh, they’re close enough~”
(Y/N)’s eyes widened, and their stomach twisted uncomfortably at the implications of that statement. Angel protectively pushed them back, stood up, and glared at Valentino.
“Fuck off, Val,” he snapped.
“Excuse me?” said Valentino, narrowing his eyes.
“I said fuck off!” shouted Angel.
The club went silent, and everyone stared in shock at Angel.
“I may have to put up with your bullshit, but you ain’t fucking with any of my friends!” said Angel, hands curled into fists.
Valentino stood, towering over everyone. “You forget who you’re talking to?” He waved his cigarette, and the smoke collected into a chain. It wrapped around Angel’s wrist and pulled him to Valentino. “I own you!”
Angel’s face fell, but his anger welled up again, and he glared, refusing to back down. “Yeah, you do, in the studio, and you can do anything you want to me there, just like our deal says. But out here, I get to do what I want. So once again, fuck off!”
Valentino raised his hand and swung at Angel.
Snap!
A briar wrapped around Valentino’s wrist. The thorns sunk into his skin, and he gritted his teeth at the sudden pain. His eyes narrowed, and he looked at where the vine came from. Everyone was silent and turned their gaze on (Y/N), whose hand was lifted. They had summoned the vine.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” hissed Valentino, and the hotel gang’s eyes widened as (Y/N) was faced with Valentino’s complete fury.
“Telling you to fuck off like Angel did,” said (Y/N), refusing to cower.
Valentino’s eyes seemed to glow in the dim lights of the club. “You’re making quite the enemy, you fucking brat.”
“I certainly don’t want you as a friend,” sneered (Y/N), letting the vine tighten around Valentino’s wrist.
Valentino gritted his teeth and ripped it away with another hand. Standing at his full height, he glared at Angel. “Enjoy your night, bitch. I’m going to enjoy making you pay for it tomorrow.” He looked back at (Y/N). “And you…You better be watch your fucking back. You’re going to pay for that.” He turned, and his red wings/cloak swept around with him as he went back to his lounge, fuming.
“Fucking dickhead,” muttered Cherri.
“Fucking hell, kid, if he hadn’t been at the club and not been able to risk destroying it, he could’ve tried to kill you,” said Husk, looking at (Y/N).
They crossed their arms. “I wasn’t going to let him hurt Angel. Not when he’s here with us. Plus he made me feel fucking gross.”
Angel looked at (Y/N). “He deserved it. Only wish I could’ve been the one to hurt him.” And he wished he could’ve kept Valentino from speaking like that about (Y/N), but he knew (Y/N) had already seen that.
“Maybe one day you will,” said (Y/N).
“I hope so,” said Angel. His shoulders heaved as the adrenaline ran out. “Let’s go.”
Husk patted his back. “Proud of you.”
Angel smiled. “Thanks.”
“And you, too, kid, even if it was fucking stupid,” said Husk. “Valentino has got a lot of pull.”
“I’ve lived under enough people’s thumbs,” said (Y/N), their gaze darkening. “I’m not doing it anymore.”
Angel and Husk exchanged a look but decided not to ask (Y/N) what that meant. They looked upset enough.
l
“What have you done to Niffty?” said Alastor as the group returned to the hotel. He was grinning at all of their appearances.
Niffty was holding her head as Husk carried her, Angel Dust was ready to pass out at this point, Pentious was miserable since he hadn’t gotten a chance to “do the sex” with Cherri, and (Y/N)’s anger had worn off to disgust at their experience with Valentino.
“She drank too much,” said Angel, throwing himself down on the couch. “Don’t wake me. I’m sleeping here forever.”
“Move over,” said Husk, putting Niffty down to rest.
“My, my, I thought Charlie had instructed you to have a good time,” tutted Alastor in amusement.
“We did until Valentino showed up,” groaned Angel. “The dick tried to get Niffty and (Y/N) to work for him.”
Husk shivered as Alastor’s grin widened but turned sharp and deadly.
“Did he now?” said Alastor.
“And then the creep tried to hit Angel!” said (Y/N) angrily.
“And the kid stupidly made Valentino angry by hurting him with their thorns,” said Husk. “He threatened them.” Husk was proud of them for interceding when Angel had nearly gotten hurt, but he was worried about what Valentino would do now that he knew their face and disliked them.
“He deserved it,” said (Y/N) sourly.
“Hell yeah,” said Angel. “He was being a fucking creep.” His friends were off limits, and (Y/N) was seventeen. Not eighteen. Not an adult. Nothing like that. Valentino was a fucking monster.
“Well, if you have any further trouble with that lecherous demon, I’m sure a quick conversation with me will put an end to it,” said Alastor, his grin dangerously wide even as he tapped (Y/N) on the forehead with his staff with more fondness than any of the demons present were familiar with him expressing.
“I hope I never see him again,” grumbled (Y/N), completely oblivious to how protective Alastor’s words were.
The Radio Demon, however, was. Ah, well. It was the truth. He wouldn’t have such a disgusting demon getting near his protégé.
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𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝑩𝒖𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝑻𝒐𝒘𝒏 Ch. 2
“𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦’𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑓(𝑙)𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡.”
★ pairing: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir x Reader
★ p.o.v: 3ʳᵈ person
★ ch. 2 summary: The news that they were next in line to hold the Miraculous of the Ladybug and defeat Hawkmoth alongside Chat Noir would affect everyone differently. For [Y/N], it came in the form of ignoring the issue all together, if they didn’t think about it, it doesn’t exist, right? But after weeks of lying low and ignoring Tikki’s pleas to take on the mantle of the Ladybug, the teenager finally, after what feels like an eternity, weakens their resolve (and, maybe, definitely, fights their first Akuma).
★ tags: swearing; weird magic headcanons; sorta making fun of Master Fu’s methods of picking heroes; reader is in denial; terribly written fight scenes (i’m sorry); tried writing a panic attack, dont know if its good or not
★ word count: 5,188
MASTERLIST | previous chapter
⟡ ⁺ ₊ ⊹ ࣪ ━━ ⊱⋆ flashback ⋆⊰ ━━ ࣪ ⊹ ₊ ⁺ ⟡
“… Are you sure that is possible?”
“Yes, if I can harness the souls and memories of the past Ladybug Miraculous wielders, I can conjure up an image of the next holder. That means, no more trusting strangers blindly!”
“Hmm... well, alright, if you believe this will work, let's at least try.”
With that, Tikki took a deep breath, closed her eyes and began to hum. It was unlike anything Master Fu has ever heard — something ancient and not of this world. Wayzz, Fu’s kwami, himself has only heard his friend utter it once before — back when they were young and their powers weren’t contained — and to say it was catastrophic would be undermining it. But that was then, now they're a lot wiser, and their unlimited powers are under control — for the most part — so what could go wrong?
Tikki’s little hands glowed brighter and brighter until the energy was released with a flash. The sphere of light rose into the air, growing in size. Master Fu, Wayzz and Tikki all gazed in wonder at the face of the next Ladybug Miraculous wielder.
“Is- is that really them?” Fu asked, amazement evident in his voice.
“Yes,” the red kwami answered, eyes gleaming with conviction, “I’m certain it is.”
⟡ ⁺ ₊ ⊹ ࣪ ━━ ⊱⋆ flashback ⋆⊰ ━━ ࣪ ⊹ ₊ ⁺ ⟡
“What. The. Fuck.”
[Y/N]’s eyebrows in bewilderment as they gazed upon the red, bug-like creature in front of them. Tikki, as it called itself, stated that the teen was chosen to be whatever a ‘wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous’ is.
Their face scrunched up as they tried to process the information.
“… Okay… what?”
“Are you alright? You’re reacting much more calmly about this whole situation — especially compared to my previous holder,” Tikki asked, her high-pitched voice tinged with concern.
The teen snorted, blinking owlishly as they surveyed their surroundings. “Oh, yeah, I’m perfectly fine! It’s not like a flying, comically large insect just told me I was the fucking chosen one. Nothing weird about that, no,” they shot back with a sarcastic edge to their voice.
A brief moment of silence stretched through [Y/N]’s room. They let out a deep sigh, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over them.
“… I’m dreaming, right? This is all in my head, and- and you’re just a figment of my imagination, right?” they asked, their voice tinged with desperation.
“I’m afraid not, [Y/N]. This is all real,” said the thing, Tikki, who looked almost… apologetic.
“… Okay, well then, can you at least clear some things up for me?” they prompted, slightly curious but still skeptical.
“Of course! What would you like to know?” Tikki flew a bit closer to the teen’s face.
“Well, for starters, the fuck is a ‘Miraculous’?” they asked, brows furrowed.
Tikki released a deep sigh, bracing herself from this point onward: ‘Oh boy… this is going to be a long evening…’
[Y/N] shook their head in disbelief, trying to process what Tikki was saying. She seemed really eager to explain things, but the longer she babbled, the more the teen felt their thoughts disconnecting from their body. They didn’t hear what the flying bug was saying until she was quite literally in front of them, a worried expression on her face, “... [Y/N]?” she whispered, not wanting to scare them.
That seemed to bring them back, with the teen bringing a hand up, trying to put some distance between the two. [Y/N] wasn’t sure what to even think. They were just a teen, not some hero with superpowers.
“Look, this is nice, flattering even, but I really don’t think I’m the one for this job, sorry,” they finally uttered, turning away from Tikki. They’ve just escaped to Paris, and they didn’t want to get into any messes so soon.
Frustration couldn’t even begin to describe what the kwami was feeling, she tried getting more words in, but all of it fell on deaf ears as the teen got ready for the night. “Please, just listen to me, [Y/N] — you are meant for this, you are meant to be Ladybug — my vision showed you, not anyone else, please,” nothing she said would cause any reaction from them.
Though the conversation went nowhere, the kwami was even more determined to make the teen see reason, no matter how long it took. Hopefully, she wouldn’t cause an Akuma in the process.
Every day since then has been a massive headache, at least for [Y/N]. An entire week of being hounded by Tikki’s constant whining and begging was driving the teen up the wall. If she were completely honest, the kwami was surprised that they lasted so long, she could be quite persuasive when she wanted to be.
One day in particular, though ordinary in every other regard, all of that pleading made [Y/N] reach their breaking point. ‘Kwami of Creation, huh, yeah, right,’ has been a primary thought of theirs. Though, truth be told, the teen found themselves enjoying Tikki’s company, if only a little. Unless she was nagging them, like right now…
“Please. Please. Please. Please. Please,” the bug floated around their head, relentless in her attempts to coerce them into transforming. She came out every day when Astrid would leave for work, like clockwork.
And just like clockwork, [Y/N] refused again. Suddenly, Tikki was floating in front of their face, the quiet buzzing sound her wings emit growing louder. She then proceeded to use her secret weapon, the puppy-dog eyes, in a sort of desperate attempt to persuade the teen.
To their credit, the teen really tried resisting the blue, alien-like eyes being thrown at them, but some things are inevitable. A few seconds pass before they relent, throwing their head back against the couch and saying, “Ugh! Fine! Okay, okay, I’ll fucking do it.”
“Yay! I knew I could change your mind! Come on! Come on! Let’s go right now!” Before she could get carried away, the teen put their foot down because they couldn’t just transform right then and there, for the sake of staying covert.
Thankfully, Tikki regains some sense, “Hehe, sorry,” she smiles sheepishly.
Shivers ran down [Y/N]’s back, mind and heart racing at the thought of them running along the ornate roofs of Paris.
The day ran its course, and the human-kwami duo were the only ones home for the day, spending their time scrolling through YouTube and eating snacks. As the sun was setting, Astrid came home from a long day at work. She spared the teen a glance and a smile, before making her way to her bedroom down the hall.
When the pair heard snores coming from her room, they decided it was finally time. Tikki’s excitement was clearly visible on her face as she flew straight through the door to [Y/N]’s own bedroom. The teen followed her, closing the door silently behind them.
Taking a deep breath, the teen closed their eyes, not wanting to waste any more time than needed. “Okay, Tikki, spots on,” they whispered. A bright light surrounded them, it faded as soon as it came, leaving the teen covered in a skin-tight, almost uncomfortable, material. ‘Fuck,’ [Y/N] stealthily made their way to the bathroom, ‘I don’t have a mirror... Their heart felt like it was going to jump out of their throat any time soon. And then, they caught their reflection.
The teen almost didn’t recognize themselves in the reflection. Staring back at them was a person covered head-to-toe in a red and black armor-like suit. As they looked themselves over, [Y/N] felt a grin form on their covered face. The most striking detail that the teen noticed was on their face. It was their eyes. They resembled Tikki’s eyes — striking blue hues with dark blue sclerae.
Right beneath their eyes, the teen noticed a dark gray mask covering the bottom half of their face. A pair of goggles were hanging around their neck, the blue lenses connected by a thick black strap. The suit looks like it came from a sci-fi novel: a dark gray bodice, resembling a ladybug’s underbelly, was tight-fitting, with a red chest piece, shoulder pads, forearm braces and knee-length boots. All the red pieces have black spots on them.
They turned around to inspect their back, and saw a big, red, black-spotted lump that rested between their shoulder blades. ‘What is that supposed to be?’ confusion riddled their face. Suddenly, the lump opened up, and a set of large, bug-like, transparent wings unfurled from its confines. [Y/N] brought their gaze back up after they felt something twitch on top of their head. And there they noticed it — a pair of antennae sprouting out from their forehead. The teen reached up to touch one of the ends, feeling it twitch.
The teen smiled, striking a few poses and quietly admiring their reflection from different angles. Taking a closer look at all the details of their attire, [Y/N] notices something red attached to their waist. They took the object into their hands, quickly realizing it was a yo-yo, it also had five little spots on it. ‘Of course this is my weapon,’ the teen sighed, a bit disappointed.
[Y/N] turned to exit the bathroom, turning off the lights before opening the door very slowly. Before the hinges started squeaking, the masked teen slipped through the gap, quickly making their way across the hallway back to their bedroom. They went over to the window connected to the side of the balcony, opening it and stepping through, trying not to bump or knock over the plant in the corner.
The teen stood crouched on the ledge, looking down at the street below. They grabbed the goggles around their neck, putting them around their eyes. [Y/N] stood up, grabbing their yo-yo from their hip and swinging it back and forth, feeling the weight and movement of the seemingly indestructible string in their hand.
Time seemed to slow down as they took a deep breath. [Y/N] swung their red tool out, linking it to a chimney on the other side of the street, and tugged on it a few times to test it. ‘Well, no time like the present.’ With that thought, they jumped, soaring through the air.
After what felt like forever but, in reality, was only a few seconds, the masked teen crash-landed across the street from Astrid’s apartment with a loud thud and a shout.
“OW, FUCK!”
Immediately covering their mouth to quiet any cries, [Y/N] looked around to see if anyone had noticed them. Feeling safe, they swung their yo-yo again with a bit more confidence than before. Unfurling the suit’s transparent wings once more, the masked teen glided through the night sky, enjoying the wind hitting their face.
Not wanting to be spotted, [Y/N] made their way directly to the Eiffel Tower, climbing up its structure quickly with their newfound strength and agility. When they finally reached the top of the monument, they felt their breath get caught in their throat, stolen away by an incredible view of the vast city bathing under the full moon.
“Whoa...” the teen muttered, removing their goggles and resting them on their forehead — right below the long antennae — so they could see a clear view of the skyline with ease.
The moment of awe was cut short when [Y/N] heard a figure land across them. The teen quickly hid behind the tower, holding their breath and not looking back. They were ready to jump off and head back home when they heard another thud, followed by a sigh.
Out of curiosity, they peeked around the corner and spotted a black figure sitting on the edge. Fortunately, the figure seemed unaware of the alien-like blue eyes peering at it from the shadows. Recognizing the potential dangers of being caught, [Y/N] decided to turn around and go back home.
The sound of something soaring through the air caught the ears of the dark figure. It turned its head back, not finding a source for the noise. It let out a defeated sigh after not seeing anything, its shoulders dropping in sadness.
“I’m even starting to hear things in your absence, m’lady. Sigh, this tomcat misses you…”
[Y/N] couldn’t hear the desperate pleas of the figure, they were too preoccupied trying to find their way back home. When they stopped on a roof to gather their bearings, a group of people caught sight of them, taking out their phones and shouting in unison.
“OH. MY. GOD! LADYBUG?” the group shouted, taking multiple pictures.
‘Shit!’ The teen panicked and swung away as fast as they could, eventually making it back to the apartment — almost tripping over the balcony railing. Climbing through the open window, they de-transformed and collapsed on their bed, exhausted.
“So? Did you like it?” Tikki asked, eager to hear what [Y/N] was thinking.
The teen just smiled and said, “That was so cool! Though, I’m not too sure about the yo-yo. Anyway, come on, let’s get some rest.” Tikki buzzes with excitement, snuggling next to [Y/N]’s cheek on the pillow. The pair drift off into a peaceful slumber.
Another week passed before anything notable happened. [Y/N] spent their days bonding with their loving aunt, Astrid, who helped furnish and decorate the teen’s room to their liking. The relationship between them grew stronger, and the teen felt more comfortable and safe in her home, though some habits were difficult to break.
However, when the sun set and everyone was fast asleep, [Y/N] and Tikki would sit on the teen’s bed, having fun and growing closer. The kwami would explain various Miraculous-related topics, like the history of the Miraculous, her own powers, and the rules the teen had to follow.
Together, they enjoyed a sense of peace and security that was lacking in their daytime routine. [Y/N] even let Tikki have a strand of their hair, which the kwami claimed was for ‘secret purposes’ with a sneaky giggle.
Now it’s Thursday, a regular day in the middle of a regular week. And it was, at least until a deafening roar shook the ground the Parisians were walking on. [Y/N] was out running errands — they really enjoyed helping Astrid out whenever they could — when it happened.
The deafening roar made everyone begin to panic and fall to the ground. Only seconds after the bellowing stopped, the grounds trembled once more as heavy stomps took over. The city was in utter chaos. [Y/N] could hear children crying, scared out of their minds.
As the teen’s heart raced and adrenaline soared through their blood, they desperately tried to make sense of the situation. Suddenly, a massive shadow loomed over them on top of the buildings.
Some civilians, including [Y/N], looked up to see what the source of all this commotion was, while others panicked and ran for cover. Some hid in stores, some fled to their homes, and some huddled together in groups, too overtaken by fear to act.
Before they even noticed, the monster came into full view, revealing a stark white reptilian beast towering over everyone.
The teen looked around, looking for a hiding spot to get to, before they heard something. A few feet in front of them, a mother and daughter were hugging as they were about to be crushed under the massive foot of the reptile. [Y/N]’s body moved without a second thought — almost instinctively — running towards the pair as fast as they could. When they were close enough, the teen jumped for them, pushing the woman and her child out of the way.
The older woman looked back at the teen, holding her wailing child close to her. She mouthed a silent thank-you to them before running away. [Y/N] almost forgot where they were before they turned back to look at the clawed, scaly foot coming down on them this time.
They covered their head, preparing for the worst, but it never came. Instead, the giant monster yelled and moved its foot away from them. Peeking their eyes out from behind their forearms, the crouching teen noticed a black, leather-clad figure right in front of them. ‘This must be Chat Noir...’ [Y/N] thought as they brought their hands down.
Chat Noir looked back, looking at you with a concerned expression. His silver staff retracts back into its original size and is placed behind the cat-themed hero’s back. [Y/N] stared at him, even as he extended his hand out to them, before they took it and got up. The two gazed into each other’s eyes, both under a strange haze; the two teens felt a tightness in their chests. It went away quickly, and the leather-clad hero straightened his back and spoke.
“Are you alright?” Chat asked, voice brimming with concern, green slitted eyes fleeting over them, looking for any injuries.
“I- I’m fine. Just shaken up,” the teen’s trembly hands were proof of that.
“Well, do you think you can get back home on your own? I’m kind of preoccupied with a lizard infestation,” he said, pointing behind him, where more destruction could be seen.
Instead of answering verbally, [Y/N] nodded. That was all the hero needed, apparently, as he gave them a smile — it made the weird tightness in their chest come back — before he turned, grabbing his staff and extending it again, jumping away.
[Y/N] stood in place for a second before they felt something jabbing into their side. Glancing down, the teen noticed Tikki already looking up at them.
“C’mon! Let’s go hide!”
They scrambled to get somewhere hidden, finding an alleyway and crouching behind one of the dumpsters. Tikki flew out of [Y/N]’s bag.
“I- What the fuck was that thing?” The teen held their chest — their heart beating faster than normal — trying to control their breathing.
“[Y/N]? Are you sure you're okay?” The kwami flew closer to the teen’s face, touching their cheek with her small limb.
They slid down the brick wall, hand still clutching their chest, as their breath became shaky and ragged, as if they’d run a marathon. Their eyes were looking straight past Tikki, not really focused on anything.
Loud ringing could be heard, though it only seemed to bother [Y/N]; they suddenly brought both their hands to cover their ears harshly, tears welling in the corners of the distraught teen’s shut eyes. Quiet, strained whimpers kept escaping their lips.
Tikki thought they looked like a wounded baby deer — scared and vulnerable. She flew down, perched on the teen’s shoulder, and rested a hand on their neck — that was really all she could do.
The kwami continued to reassure [Y/N], and a little while later, they finally stopped shaking. The teen looked at their little red companion with a determined look as they stood up, rolling their shoulders back.
“Okay, let's do this.”
All Chat Noir could think of right now was not letting his lunch come back out the wrong side. He was being swung around by ginormous, scaly reptile paws and thrown through the air. You’d think that after half a year of working alone, he’d be more efficient at this whole thing. And you’d be right; today was just... not his day, to say the least.
The terrified screams and reassuring words from the Parisians below all mixed into a disorienting white noise that Chat couldn’t do anything about. As he was being lifted to the Draken’s face, rows upon rows of sharp, yellowy teeth could be seen. The feline hero shut his bright green eyes tight, silently preparing for his doom. ‘This really is it... I’m so sorry, m’Lady.’
“HEY, UGLY!” A voice cut through the air, loud enough to get the attention of everyone, “Let the cat-boy go!”
There, on the roof of a tall building — eye-level with the scaly, white beast — stood a figure, shadowed by the warm afternoon sun hitting its back.
Murmurs ran through the crowd like wildfire. The figure grabs something from its hip and spins it fast, a familiar pink glow appears from the whizzing of the object.
“Whoa, who is that?”
“Is that Ladybug?”
“HA! I told you she would come back!”
The figure paid no mind to the crowd, keeping their gaze on the giant in front of them — more specifically, the bright purple butterfly outside that suddenly appeared over its face. It seemed to make the large beast stop in its tracks, like it was under a spell. But there was no time to think about that; there were civilians and a stray cat in danger.
“Oj, scale-face! I’m talking to you!” The red figure took a running start and jumped off the roof, spreading large, transparent wings out from their back.
That seemed to bring the creature out of its trance-like state — the glowing outline had disappeared by now — letting out a deafening roar, black smoke pouring out of its unhinged mouth.
Now that the sun wasn't blocking their view, everyone could see someone akin to the iconic red and black-spotted heroine Paris has come to love and mourn the loss of. Though, the voice and mannerisms should’ve given them away sooner, this was definitely not Ladybug, at least not the Ladybug people know.
The spotted figure zipped straight for the overgrown lizard, effectively — if only a bit clumsily, as if this were their first time — dodging its flailing limbs. They flew straight towards its open mouth, quickly grabbing the black-leather-clad hero before he could become lizard food.
The two escaped narrowly, [Y/N] setting Chat Noir down on one of the flat roofed buildings, behind the roof access room, hiding them from the beast’s line of sight.
“Are you alright?” the teen asked, unknowingly repeating his first words to their civilian self.
Wherever his mind went, it came back to his body right at that moment. He glanced at the face of his savior, covered with a black face mask and goggles, hiding every part of their face apart from their eyebrows. The short hairs were furrowed, and no doubt a concerned expression decorated the face beneath the disguise.
“I- Yes… Who are you?” His gaze held so many emotions, like confusion but mostly distrust.
“Y’know, I never gave it much thought before, ask me again when we take Godzilla over there down, ‘kay?” Apparently, that wasn’t the answer he was expecting, [Y/N] could almost imagine a giant question mark floating on top of his head.
“So... you have a plan?” He was still staring, the fight clearly not on the forefront of his mind. His lack of answer perpetuated the awkward silence: “... Right, so, ahem, do you know where the Akumatized object is?”
He finally got over it, if only for the time being, “Yeah, there’s a gem lodged into the back of his neck, I tried getting it, but I got caught.”
“Well then, how about we try that again? C'mon, I’ll go and distract it while you destroy the thing!”
[Y/N] raised their goggles slightly over their eyes, winking at Chat Noir, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the alien-esque blue eyes that were hiding underneath the lenses. They prepared to take another running start, spreading their wings, before remembering something.
“OH! Before I forget, sorry, this is my first time doing this,” they took their yo-yo from its resting place on their hip and throwing it in the air, “Lucky Charm!”
The red polka-dotted sides spun around as it glowed before it came back down, leaving a small object where it was. The item dropped into the gloved hands; it was a red ice pick with a black dot pattern all over it, quite on brand with the ladybug theme. [Y/N] turned it around, looking it over closely, then grasped it tightly and returned to their previous position.
“Okay, are you ready? ‘Cause I’m not,” the teen chuckled, pulling their goggles back over their eyes, running and jumping off the roof, heading straight for the scaly monster.
The cat-eyed hero stood in place for a second, his mind still lagging behind. He shook his head, getting out of his stupor, and hardened his gaze, focusing on completing the mission. He would ask questions later.
He stood still for a while, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike the Draken. He kept his gaze mostly on the spotted hero, distracting the beast by zipping around with their large wings, evading its grasp. Maybe he was watching them because he was worried they would get caught and hurt, or maybe he was judging them because ‘Ladybug wouldn't have come up with such a primitive plan’.
By now, the Draken's back is turned away from Chat, letting him get a clear view of the icy blue gem, the same color as its eyes, embedded into the back of the beast's neck, surrounded by glistening white scales.
Taking the opportunity to strike, Chat Noir extended his staff, letting it carry him to land on the lizard’s back. He landed a bit below where the gem was, so he gripped onto whatever space he could and began to climb. However, the beast’s thrashing and flailing around made it quite hard to do. The green-eyed hero inched his way towards the glittering jewel, hanging on to a few looser scales to not fall off.
He raised his hand, preparing to strike, “Cataclysm!” A black, void-like mass bubbled around his right hand. Chat pressed his hand onto the gem, watching as it began to crack and turn a deathly gray.
Soon it stopped, and a glowing purple butterfly squeezed its way out of the cracks, trying to fly away. But before it could, Chat caught it in a strange, dark metal canister, not giving the insect a chance to escape.
As the butterfly no longer powered it, the large lizard became covered in a dark, almost black, purple, tar-like liquid. And then it disappeared, leaving a man, who looked to be about mid 20’s, to fall to his death.
Of course, seeing this, both heroes couldn’t let that happen, jumping into action to catch the young adult, before he could become one with the cracked concrete.
[Y/N] made it first, their wings gave them a stark advantage in situations like this, grabbing the man midair and gently landing him on the ground. The teen removed their goggles, letting them rest around their neck, and looked over the hunched person for any injuries. Thankfully, they found none, so they awkwardly patted his shoulder, making him look up.
He looked frazzled, as if his mind was a couple of minutes behind, trying to catch up to the rest of his body. He looked at the gloved hand on his shoulder and moved his gaze up to his savior’s face. The man was met with dark blues, glazed with concern.
He paid no mind to it, rushing into the hero’s arms and burying his head in the crook of their neck. It was a bit uncomfortable, both because their armor is very rigid and not soft at all and because they weren’t expecting it, obviously. Nevertheless, the teen hugged back, if only a bit stiffly.
“Thank you! Thank you so much!” The man cried out, tightening his hold around them. He hiccuped, “I’m so sorry, for all of this. I- I just- my emotions got- got the best of me.”
He pulled away after a while, the teen now looking behind him to see Chat Noir staring them both down. Freezing under his gaze, the teen felt the third tightness in their chest return, all because of his eyes. But his gaze didn’t hold that same feeling — it was cold for some reason.
Not wanting to dwell on it, [Y/N] turned their unusual eyes back down at the man. Finally, they took a closer look at him; he was quite short — though that didn’t mean much, as the teen noticed they towered over most of the crowd, apart from Chat Noir, in this form — and gaunt, with heavy bags under his brown eyes. He was clearly dressed for work — unless business casual was his regular style — with a white collared shirt underneath a blue plaid sweater vest, paired with light brown slacks and matching loafers. His wavy brown hair was styled professionally — now a bit mussed from falling in the air.
“Hey, you’re okay. What’s your name?” The teen asked awkwardly, smiling more with their eyes, as their mask covered the bottom of their face.
“A- Arthur Gallo,” he spoke, still clearly in shock from his situation. [Y/N] patted his back lightly and reassured him, “Well, Arthur, whatever happened that caused this, it isn’t your fault, you were just pushed to your limit, and that's okay.”
The teen turned to fly away before stopping suddenly, “OH! Before I forget,” they grabbed the ice pick from its resting place on their hip — it was quite useless in their plan, but Tikki did say to have it on hand, just in case — throwing it up in the air, shouting, “Miraculous Ladybug!”
The spotted pick disappeared in a bright, pink flash of light, and thousands of ladybugs flew around the area, fixing and rebuilding all the destruction caused under the butterflies influence. The little insects surrounded the two heroes and Arthur before shooting up into the sky and dispersing out of sight.
Civilians around the area cheered loudly, and reporters popped up in front of the trio, asking questions upon questions and shoving cameras in their faces. [Y/N] ignored them, turning to face Chat Noir, whose gaze never left them. Suddenly, he spoke.
“Ladybug would’ve come up with a much better plan.”
The teen’s expression quickly fell in confusion; you didn’t even need to see the bottom half of their face to see it. Their brows furrowed, and they spoke cautiously, “Yeah, well, I’m not good with plans in general, and I’m not Ladybug.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” he huffed, turning around and extending his staff, jumping away, probably to detransform.
‘What the fuck is his problem,’ [Y/N] thought to themselves bitterly, their mood dampened by their ‘partner’s’ cold behavior. They turned back to Arthur, who was still standing next to them, looking awkwardly to the side.
“You can make it back home on your own, right? I kind of have to go,” [Y/N] said, pointing to their beeping earrings, only 3 of the 5 spots were left. He nodded, and the teen went to walk away before the man suddenly grabbed their hand, “WAIT!”
“Yes?”
“Please, what’s your name?”
“I- hmm,” [Y/N] thought for a second.
They knew they weren’t Ladybug, and they didn’t want to take on her name out of respect — and something in their head told them that if they did, a certain feline would dislike them even more. All they knew was that they were up for the task; to help Paris and the rest of the world from Hawkmoth, they knew that they had to have a strong, powerful name that would make people feel safe. [Y/N] took a breath, pushing their shoulders back with a more confident expression in their eyes.
“Red Beetle, my name is Red Beetle.”
Arthur let go of their hand — a grateful expression on his face — and thanked them. The newly named hero turned away from him, grabbed their yo-yo and swung away.
MASTERLIST | next chapter
★ author's note: I’ve written and rewritten this so many times, I feel like I’m losing my mind, anyways hope you enjoy! Also so sorry for the long wait, I really wanted to post this back in September, but school started and killed my motivation. I have chapter 3 as bulletpoints, but I’m not making any promises to post it any time soon :(
★ taglist: @leafanonsforest; @ok-boke; @they2luv1naia; @mytaiyakeylover;
#★.lilian writes#adrien agreste x reader#chat noir x reader#miraculous ladybug x reader#cat noir x reader#mlb x reader#gn!reader
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SOUTH PAW?
carl grimes x fem reader
WARNINGS: mentions of character death (Abraham & Glenn), mentions of gore, traumatic events, mentions of amputation, begging, mentions of pregnancy (Maggie's), Negan, unedited work.
A/N: sorry for the long break, i've been so busy with a lot of things but i have a few scrap drafts i might put together and post so i'll try my best to update my queue this week.
a long night of violence is how she could describe it, a long night of tears pouring down everyone's faces as they watched a cruel man bash in two of their friends heads without even such an ounce of mercy for their poor souls in his mind.
the night felt like the eternity but as the sun had risen and the night faded it was still like a fever dream, like this wasn't all real and she was going to have to wake up soon from this nightmare.
except this was all real, Abraham and Glenn's dead bodies with their heads smashed in that was real, all of the blood splattered on y/n's face from the slinging of Negan's bat that was real.
she watched as Rick was tossed back out onto the gravel, his hands reaching to stop himself as he followed the man's forceful orders to get on all fours while he kneeled down to him.
"i'm giving you a choice Rick and this is your grand prize, what you do next will decide whether it becomes just those twos bad day or the rest of these lovely men and women sitting in front of us"
he gestured with his hands for his men to point guns at the back of their heads and y/n could feel the barrel pressed against the back of her head making her swallow harshly.
her knees started to ache from the rocks that pressed against them, the blood of a father figure had dried on her face and she could almost feel like it had been sinking into the pores of her skin.
she felt gross to have the blood on her, she felt sick each time she even looked at the dead man who was next to her, she felt sick knowing his pregnant wife was a sobbing wreck just a few feet away.
and Carl had hated to see her cry with each strike from Negan's bat that pounded into Glenn's head like he wasn't a person but yet just a piece of meat Negan used as his beating ground.
she watched as Negan had approached Carl making her heart sink as he rested his bat against his shoulder and she watched as some of the blood smeared out onto his leather.
he held out a hand to Carl who cocked his head hesitantly as he tried to ignore the gesture but Negan smiled and cleared his throat before speaking up "take my hand kid" he spoke bitterly watching as the teen finally gave in and took the man's hand.
he was stood up and Negan had waved his arm out to the side to where the boy's father rested on the ground, blood on his face, eye bags and his eyes red as his eye were still looking like they had been watering again, like they were on the brim of tears.
he pointed at the spot empty next to his father as Carl took a few steps watching as Negan stood in front of him taking a quite consideration to the gauze over his missing eye.
"you a south paw?" he asked watching as Carl looked clearly confused by a phrase he never heard before and it made Negan re-phrase his question to him, "you a lefty?" he watched as Carl shook his head while Negan pulled out a belt and un-raveled it.
he tied a belt against the boy's arm, "that hurt?" Negan remarked watching as the boy in the hat snapped back a quick 'no' before looking down at the leather tightened on his arm.
"on the ground next to Daddy and don't forget to spread your wings boy" Negan spoke as he watched Carl lay flat on the ground, his head turning in the direction to where he could see y/n and his father.
he could see the terror on his girlfriends face, the fear stuck in her eyes as her palms were flat and sinking into the same gravel the soft flesh of his cheek had now been resting against.
he could hear the crunching of Negan's boots against the rocks, and it stopped once he could see him crouch next to him thanking Simon for the pen that was given to him,
he himself was scared of what he had planned for him, what Negan had planned to do to Carl especially in front of his father and his girlfriend who had more tears pouring down her face.
he marked Carl's arm and apologized in such an sarcastic way that Carl had never even heard a human being sound so derisive in that way, even in the apocalypse.
he could hear his father start to beg as his girlfriend looked down at the ground using the back of her hand to cover up her sniffles, to cover up the rapid breathing spilling out from her.
he could see the harsh way her body rattled as she tried to manage to stay quiet in the fear that someone else would die, in fear that maybe it'd be her or even Carl that'd be next.
the word please was pouring like a continuous river in his head, the word his father kept repeating over and over as he begged Negan to show his son some mercy, to show he himself some mercy.
"don't beg me because i ain't the one doing shit" Negan spoke roughly patting Rick against the back before he gave his next order at the quite obvious traumatized man who was on all fours before him.
"Rick pick up your ax," he paused licking his chapped lips clean before continuing what he wanted Rick to do, "and cut off your son's left arm, now i know you're gonna have to process that for a second and believe me that makes sense so i'll give you a minute"
a loud gasp of air had erupted from y/n's mouth as she closed her eyes at the feeling of the barrel pressing even harder against the back of her head making her lip shake and her eyes flood.
he stood up and rubbed his hands on the denim of his pants watching as Rick's expression turn into now an even stronger pleading one, like it was just the ocean color of his eyes and the quiver of his lip giving off all the true emotion even more than his words that were spilled in such a babble of emotion.
"i am still gonna need you to do it though or all these people are going to die, then Carl dies, then the people back at your home die, and i'm gonna keep you living for a few years just so you can think about the decision you make right now"
Negan looked around at the men and women all lined up, and yet one had the courage to speak up, y/n to be exact only had the courage to speak up because it was her boyfriends life on the line.
"you d-don't have to do t-this, We understand! please we u-understand!" she looked down at her boyfriend who almost had a few tears slipping of his own as he looked at her,
as he looked at the shaking and sobbing mess this man had turned her into, he watched the sorrow tearing through her like a walker who was hungry for flesh.
he seemed to like the fear that ran though all of them, he liked the idea of watching them all tremble while they payed the price of wiping out one of his out posts because something about the pity and the terror gave him power, it gave him control.
"I'm not so sure Rick does. So i'm gonna need a clean cut right there on that line i drew out for you! now believe me this is a screwed up thing to ask, trust me i know but it's gonna have to be clean nothing messy so our doctors can fold something over."
he watched Rick tremble as he kneeled and continued to spew out his words, "we have great doctors the kid'll be fine, probably. and Rick we're in a time frame so this needs to happen now or i will crush this fella's head in myself"
"please i can take his place" Rick begged over and over as his throat felt sore and his mouth dry while his eyes ached and his head started to pound at the idea of hurting his son.
"please Negan please" Rick begged again watching as the man ran over some stubble of his beard and shook his head with a 'no' to answer Rick's pleas for it to be him instead.
"this is the only way, not making this decision is a big decision. Do you want to see everyone in front of you die? because if you don't pick up that ax you will, and you will see everything"
Rick cleared his throat as his hands remained planted in the rocks still in a pity of confusion from the whole situation, and now Negan had started to count loudly and once he got to one Rick had his ax raised while Carl was yelling at him to go through with it.
Y/n sobbed into her hands as she could hear her boyfriend cry out for his own father to cut off his arm, and when she could hear the soft chuckle of Negan and the soft gasping of Rick and not even a subtle yell or scream from Carl but yet she still buried her face.
Negan had taken the ax away from Rick's raised arm and he reached up a hand to pull Carl up from the ground, "you answer to me, you provide for me, you belong to me" and Rick nodded his head and agreed to the fact that he had now belonged to Negan and his men.
"see that look is the look i wanted to see! and man we did it, even those dead guys with the smashed in brains get a participation award for sure" he sighed as he tossed his bat over his shoulder.
"i hope for everyone's sake you understand how things work around here, things change and right about now they've changed whatever you had going for you is over, now i'll be back in a week Rick so use the truck i'll leave to gather my shit or someone else dies."
"I can't look, I can't, Carl please"
she mumbled feeling as someone in front of her had tugged on her hands softly, but she still held them against her face in fear she would see other blood being shed that she didn't want to see.
"look at me y/n, look at me"
he spoke finally being able to pull her hands away from her face once she realized that it was Carl and he had both of his arms, he furrowed his brows softly watching as she quivered and couldn't keep her eyes away from the line that he had drawn out onto his arm.
-
once he and his men had left y/n tried to stand but she could only drop back on her knees as she looked over at the dead man on the ground next to her, she gasped as her knees felt weak.
and it was Carl who lifted her up, it was Carl's arms that wrapped around her while he gave her the comfort of burying her face into the soft fabric of his flannel to shield herself from the damage and the violence that had been done to her friend.
she sobbed so hard that she could feel it shake both of their bodies, Carl stroked over her hair and watched as she shook under his grasp, she shook so hard her body started to wobble.
she couldn't speak because every time she tried to get a word out it was just a rush of tears, a rush of gasps for air, a rush of mutters that weren't even comprehensible to him or her.
her vision seemed blurry and her head was pounding so hard and her heart beat so fast she felt like she was dying, she felt like the world had been slipping away from her finger tips.
the only word that had been able to be heard was a loud gasp of 'no' as she looked at the line still on his arm, the line where Negan wanted Rick to chop off his arm, the line that now told trembling stories.
she squeezed her hand on it so tight that even the belt hadn't cut off that much circulation to his arm, she clung to his shirt as she could hear the sound of someone's shoes crunching against the gravel.
she could hear Maggie's cries and Rick who whispered something to his son who held out onto the shaking y/n, Sasha and Rosita frozen in such a terror and disbelief, Eugene still crying softly, Aaron and Michonne who were sitting in such a pity of silence.
and the two bodies around them.
y/n had slipped to her knees and Carl had let her, he let her bury her face into the ground and he rubbed her back as he tried to stop her from hyper ventilating at the shock around her but it was no use because it felt a ton of bricks were pressing against her chest.
She could feel a second hand on her back and she could tell it was Rick's by the wedding ring that she could feel through the cotton t-shirt she had been wearing,
"oh god, t-that c-could've been y-you" she sputtered out as she still felt like she could feel the specks of blood hitting her cheek with each and every strike from Negan's bat smashing into the pour mans head.
her body ached and it felt like her lungs had now finally collapsed in from the harsh beating her heart had pushed off, her bones ached from all the shaking and her cheeks were sore from the amount of tears that had been poured down them.
"i'm right here y/n, i'm right here" he had dropped to his knees and placed his hat down on the ground, he let his knees sink into the same rocks where the bodies laid.
where Maggie's tears had poured and where they knew the rest of the lives had just changed forever because they got the shit end of a deal they should've never even taken.
"Maggie" she managed to gasp out as she could feel her limp body being lifted up by not just Carl but his father, they had lifted her up so she could be taken to Maggie.
the widow's lungs gasped for air as she looked down at the ground, her knees ached and she felt sick even sicker than before, she could feel the teen reach out and place a soft but shaking hand a top of hers and to which she had finally spoken out.
"you need to go, you need to get everyone out of here Rick" Maggie spoke still sounding so brave, like she was keeping it all together when in reality she was spiraling in her mind.
spiraling at the fact her father, her sister and now her husband the father of her child had been killed in front of her, after they had begged and after they had tried their best to bargain.
"he's our family to, we'll do this together" Rick spoke watching as Maggie sniffled and the still distraught teen next to her had nodded along with the idea as her eyes filled with seeping tears.
"he's right we'll do it t-together because we're all family"
#carlgrimes#carl grimes#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes x you#carl grimes edit#glenn rhee#maggie rhee#maggie rhee imagine#glenn rhee imagine#negan fanfiction#rick grimes#abraham twd#twd angst#twd fluff#twd smut#twd imagine#the walking dead daryl#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead fic#the walking dead#rick grimes x you#rick grimes fic#rick grimes x reader
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Lifeline
pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader
summary: When Matt starts to shut down, your stubbornness saves him.
warnings: swearing, angst, panic attack description, pining buffoons, pre-relationship, Matt's mental illness and fear of abandonment
a/n: This is a short birthday fic for the wonderful @abucketofweird who wanted a fic similar to Renegade with Best Friends to Lovers. I hope you enjoy, my dear! 🥳🥰❤️
I know it's short and pre-relationship but there is plenty of angsty Matt! (Also, yes she calls him a million nicknames, but they're not ~explicitly~ together in this). Please let me know if y'all are tired of seeing me write crying!angsty!Matt because I know I write that a lot.
w/c: ~4k
Matt could still remember the day that the Devil had first emerged. It was before his accident, after witnessing a group of teens bully his elementary school classmate on her way home from school. Years of seeing his dad throw hits and his own unwavering moral compass had forged a new being within his own; his rage overtaking his consciousness, forming shaky fists and a flower across his face.
At the time, he hadn’t known how to fight properly and had gotten his ass kicked. A few decades had passed and, though his ability had grown, his rage had stayed the same.
Fury was a useful tool, most of the time. Allowing him to push through discomfort and injury until he’d taken down whatever evildoer he’d gone after that day. It was his wrath that kept him going, but it was also his biggest inhibition.
The desire to beat powerful criminals bloody was overpowering. His gut boiled with anger anytime he heard someone crying for help, knowing that, more than likely, the only thing sparing them from that cruel fate was him—a blind Catholic with a chip on his shoulder and lacking self preservation skills.
It was his rage that caused tunnel vision. Which in turn caused sleep deprivation, which led to more injuries. The cycle didn’t end there though, at least not recently. His tendency to prioritize his alter ego over his own health wasn’t something that could be solved by a simple nap these days. Not when he had people worrying about him, and when his efforts to meditate or find another outlet for his emotions remained futile.
More injuries meant it was more difficult to hide them. A bullet wound in his stomach, a sprained ankle, these were more noticeable to his coworkers, to you. While you were eternally patient and understanding about his double life, his business partners were not. He tried his best to ignore Karen’s gasps and Foggy’s pointed stares every time he limped into the office or winced while pouring his coffee. Despite his efforts, it always aggravated him, fueling his rage and thus perpetuating the cycle further.
This week, Foggy had snapped. Yelling at Matt for putting himself in danger, for jeopardizing their recent case—they’d had to postpone a meeting with the prosecution given the state of Matt’s face—and their firm. In return, Matt had lashed out. Screaming about the greater good and Foggy not trusting him. It quickly became an all out brawl, both men hurling insults at the other despite Karen warning them that they were going too far. But her intervention came too late.
“You claim to be so worried about people leaving but I don’t see how that’s fucking possible when you try so hard to scare us off, Murdock. Guess what!? It’s working!” Foggy snapped, throwing his hands in the air with a huff.
Logically, Matt knew Foggy didn’t mean that—at least not in the way Matt heard it—but his throat felt swollen anyway. His heart pounded, the argument sitting on his tongue dissolving as his mouth grew increasingly dry. Loosening his tie, Matt stalked to his office to gather his things.
“You know what, I think I’ll work at home for a few days.” He spoke stiffly, throwing the strap of his bag over his shoulder.
“Matt,” Karen took a step towards him but he refuses to acknowledge her placating tone.
“I’ll see you in court next week. I’ll drop off my opening argument tomorrow night.” Without waiting for their responses, he retreated to his apartment.
With every step along the damp Manhattan sidewalk, his irritation grew. His brain was flickering back and forth between despair and indignation, his hands itching to hit something. Tonight would be productive, that much was clear.
Though he usually waited until the late hours of the evening to go out as Daredevil, his argument with Foggy had ignited an impatient buzzing beneath his skin—his muscles clenching and anger bubbling until he caved to the Devil. It was risky, dashing from roof to roof in his suit at dusk, but his patience had worn out hours ago.
The night felt endless, yet it was over far too soon. He raced through the streets, taking down thug after thug, until a serrated blade caught him off guard. With a jagged rip across his thigh, he made for his apartment—planning to crudely stitch the wound before finishing what he’d started.
As he approached his loft, his ears locked on to a familiar heartbeat, its pattering mulling about his place as he grew closer. Foggy had sent in reinforcements, he supposed, though he wasn’t thrilled about it.
Opening the rooftop door, Matt stomped down the stairs, hurling pieces of his suit across the space as he ripped them from his overheated body. Pretending not to care about the spike in your heartbeat, courtesy of his pounding steps, he tore the mask from his face, setting it beside the sink before filling a glass with water.
Fidgeting with your sleeve, you approached him slowly, saying nothing as he downed a glass of lukewarm water before jutting his chin at you.
“Say what you’re going to say, then leave.” His voice was harsh and deep, the Devil still fully in control.
You inhaled slowly, not scared of his current state, but clearly unhappy all the same. “What makes you think I have something to say?”
Matt bit back a scoff. “Foggy sent you, which means you’re on his side and are here to tell me off.”
“On his side…Christ, Murdock.” You were a few paces in front of him, just behind the counter, your clothes rustling as you crossed your arms in frustration.
“Why else would you be here?” Matt stormed around you and into his bathroom, unbuckling the bottom half to sew himself up. If anyone else had been here, he might have been more worried about modesty, but you’d seen him in more compromising positions than this over the years.
Gritting your teeth as you trudged after him, your arms remained folded against your chest. “Because I care about you, asshole. Karen told me what Foggy said. I was worried.”
Your heart thumped steadily with your honest admission, eliciting a pang of guilt deep in Matt’s subconscious. He remained silent, rubbing a damp cloth over his wound to clean it up before he attempted suturing it. At his lack of response, you scoffed, “Don’t know why I was so worried. You’re clearly taking it very well.”
Spinning to face you, his lips curled. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means exactly what you think it means, Matt.” You snapped back at him, regretting it when his jaw twitched in response. Sighing, your voice softened. “You are so strong, and I know that Foggy and Karen give you a hard time but they’re not entirely wrong. It’s ok to ask for help.”
“I don’t need their help.” Matt muttered, leaning against the cold porcelain sink in the bathroom. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“No one is saying that you’re not.” You tried to reason, but he refused to listen.
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what Foggy was saying, actually. How would you even know? It’s not like you were there.” He bit out, resentment prickling through his words.
Ouch. He was right. You weren’t there. Because you’d taken a new job across the city. And he clearly was still not ok with that fact.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” You spoke gravely, brushing away a smudge of dirt on his cheek with your thumb. He tensed under your touch, but didn’t flinch away. “But you know that I don’t agree with what Fog said, right? Regardless of whether he meant it, it was wrong for him to imply—“
Shoving your hand from his face, his lips formed a scowl once again. “What? That it’s my fault? That people leave because I make them? Maybe he’s right.”
“Matt, that’s not true. You know—“
“Don’t tell me what I know!” He roared pressing into your personal space, eyes blazing with fury.
Breathing evenly, you shifted your weight away from him. Not flinching out of fear, just a natural reaction to his behavior, yet the movement still stung. Retreating from you, he picked up the cloth and refocused on the gash across his thigh.
“Go home,” He spoke your name coldly. This wasn’t a question, it was an order.
“Matt—“ You started but he glared at you.
“Go.”
You nodded, pacing back into the living room to grab your purse from the couch. “Call me if you need anything, Matty. I’ll be around.” You spoke softly, your soft footsteps fading as you left his loft.
Biting back an irritated snarl, Matt tread into the kitchen to grab a bottle of whiskey. Taking a full swig, he pushed his guilt and pain aside and picked up a needle.
Burying your face in the collar of your jacket, you scrunched your nose as a particularly fierce gust of wind smacked you. Soldiering forward, you sped down the street towards the dimly lit building you were aiming for.
It might be a mistake to return to Matt’s loft, but you couldn’t leave him there alone when he was so distraught. At least, not in good conscience.
You respected his request for space, absolutely—taking time to return to your own apartment and retrieve his worn Columbia sweater, which you’d stolen a few weeks ago and simply not given back. It was soft and oversized, for you at least, making it ridiculously comfortable. But it was clear Matt needed that comfort more than you did right now.
After tucking the garment in your bag carefully, you headed back out into the blustery evening to pick up a large order of food from Matt’s favorite Italian place.
If he still didn’t want you there upon your return, so be it. But the man wouldn’t go cold or hungry on your watch, dammit.
It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him to take care of himself, you just recognized that self-preservation wasn’t a priority for him when he was…like this. Brooding. Angry.
In the decade and a half you’d known him, you had started to piece together Matt’s various moods and this was a common one. His heightened senses igniting something inside him that pulled him into fights all around the city. You couldn’t imagine the pain he felt hearing innocent civilians in trouble constantly. But eventually, he’d stop restraining himself. Sleep less. Eat less. Go to work, go out as Daredevil, and do it all again the next day—even when he was a jumble of exhaustion and bruises.
In these moments, he was no longer your beloved Matthew Murdock. He was a candle, with a burning wick and a torch at his base. The wax slowly melting away, until his sanity was nothing but a distant memory.
This was something you’d seen a handful of times when working with him and Foggy, even back when you three were just interns at Landman and Zack. It was the thing about Matt that you and Foggy argued about most these days.
See, Foggy believed the solution to these episodes was to remove Daredevil from the equation altogether. You couldn’t necessarily blame the blond for thinking that, given how Matt’s vigilante antics impacted his work and his ability to be a good friend.
Despite understanding Foggy’s concerns, your faith in Matt didn’t hinge on his nighttime activities. These periods of great stress were a sign that Matt needed support. Not an indication that he was no longer able to lead a double life.
While the average person might snap or cry when they were overwhelmed, Matt would force himself to take more on. You assumed this was a symptom of the manipulation he’d endured during his youth.
Matt hadn’t disclosed much about his childhood mentor, but you knew that he’d been encouraged to work through periods of distress, simply bottling up his feelings in order to ensure productivity. Given that he’d never had those beliefs challenged until well into adulthood, it was second nature for him to add more to his plate until he couldn’t anymore—whether that was because someone forced him to rest, or he was literally comatose.
He’d confessed to you once—on another night like tonight when he was so tired of fighting everyone that he caved to your questioning—that rest wasn’t something that came easily to him. It was almost an enemy, in his mind, preventing him from helping as many people as he could. Resting meant he was a failure, and failing meant people would leave.
This conversation lived in the back of your mind every time the dark haired man frustrated you. Every sleepless night spent pulling your hair out while you waited for him to text you that he was alive, every morning spent patching him up in the conference room because the walk to work had pulled his stitches out. Each and every time Matt’s other identity impacted your life, you reminded yourself that, in his mind, he didn’t have a choice.
This time was no different.
Though it probably didn’t help that Foggy had insinuated that he was thinking of leaving Matt. Not when Matt’s subconscious was desperately trying to pretend his life was balanced to keep everyone happy. Which is why you allowed yourself to be more stubborn than usual this dreadful evening, worming your way back into Matt’s home so he knew that he wasn’t in danger of being alone.
Removing one ungloved hand from the safety of your fleece lined pocket, you yanked open the door to the restaurant, smiling softly at the hostess as her eyes met yours.
“I have an order for pick up?” Giving her your name, you curled both hands back into your pockets, shifting your weight from foot to foot as you waited, somewhat impatiently, for your food.
After what felt like an hour, the hostess handed you two bags stacked with containers, grimacing apologetically. “Sorry about the wait!”
“Not a problem!” You shrugged, grabbing the bags. “Thank you!!”
Dashing around the crowd forming behind you, your feet carried you the few remaining blocks to Matt’s building. Treading up the stairs slowly, you panted, taking a moment to breathe before making it to his door.
Here goes nothing.
You bypassed waiting for Matt to open the door, instead choosing to knock gingerly and use your spare key to unlock the door.
“Matty?” You called softly, receiving no answer.
Inhaling deeply, hoping you weren’t about to irreparably damage your relationship with Matt, you stepped over the threshold and into his space. Shuffling around the corner at the end of the hallway, you peeked into the loft, scanning it for any indication of your overworked friend—but there was no sign of him. No obvious one, at least.
As you blocked out the muffled sounds of the city that had managed to penetrate the walls of the loft, your ears picked up a hushed sound from somewhere in the kitchen. A rapid whooshing—like panting, or choking.
Rushing around the counter, your eyes widened in shock as you found Matt curled against the dark wooden cabinets. He was seated, but hunched over his knees, his hands tightly wrapped around his shins to keep his body in the position as he rocked back and forth. There was a jaggedly stitched line along his thigh, surrounded by mottled skin and goosebumps. Given his lack of clothing—he was only wearing his boxers—and the frigid temperature in the room, the poor man was shaking violently. A combination of his harsh breathing and his low body temperature, you assumed.
As your presence became more noticeable, Matt tilted his head up, chin wobbling, eyes frantic and shining. Calling your name shakily, his weak plea almost made your own eyes well up.
Crouching before him, you set the bags in your grasp aside, opening your palms to him. “It’s me, sweetheart. I’m right here. What happened?”
“D-don’t know. Can’t breathe.” Matt choked around the words, leaning towards you as you scrambled closer.
“Can I touch—“ You asked, hesitant to take any major steps without explicit permission.
“Yes. Please,” He sobbed, collapsing against your chest as your arms opened.
“It’s ok. You’re ok, sweet boy.” You rubbed a hand over his back in a circular motion, using your free hand to guide one of his palms to your chest. “Feel my breathing?”
Matt nodded against your chest, nails digging into your shoulder blade as he tried to get his breathing under control.
“That’s my guy. Doing so good for me, handsome.” You praised softly, tracing your hand up his back and into his hair in the way you knew he loved. “That’s it, nice even breaths.”
Unwinding your body from its squatted position, you sat on the cold floor, spreading your legs to allow Matt to fall into your lap. Perched across your thighs, Matt’s slowly stopped heaving. He was still covered in goosebumps and bruises, but his probable panic attack had been avoided for now.
“There we go. Good job, honey. Feel a bit better?” You scratched diligently at Matt’s scalp, his skull knocking against your fingers with a nod.
“Yes. Thank you.” He murmured, hot breath hitting your collar bone, a contrast to his icy skin.
“Ok, sweets. Are you cold?”
Another nod, making your lips twitch with a tiny smile. “Yah, stupid question. Here, put this on.”
Pulling your bag over to you, you yanked out the sweater and handed it to him, mourning the loss of contact as he sat up to slip it on. After his chest was covered, his brow furrowed, a hand coming up to trace the text on the front of the hoodie. “My sweatshirt?”
Cupping his stubbled cheek, you stroked a thumb over his jaw. “I brought it back. Thought you might need it tonight. C’mon honey, why don’t we go lay down, hm?”
Allowing Matt to crawl off your lap, you drew him from the floor as you stood, laying your arm around his waist and holding him upright as he hobbled to his room. Tumbling onto the mattress, he haphazardly threw his sheets over his bare legs, curling into fetal position. His body was stiff, as if he was clenching every muscle to prevent writhing in pain. Sitting next to his waist, you fussed with the covers, drawing them more tightly around his rigid form.
“There, that’s better. Just close your eyes and—“ you attempted to encourage the weary man to rest but his small voice interrupted.
“You came back.” Matt spoke lowly, blinking back a new wave of tears. “You came back when I told you to leave.”
“Do you need me to go? That’s fine, Matty, I’ll just—“
“No!” His hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. “Please don’t.”
“Ok, sweet boy. I’ll stay here. As long as you want me to.”
Matt nodded once, tears trailing down his face again. “You came back.” No longer talking to you, it seemed that he was trying to make himself believe that he was no longer alone.
Sliding down to face him, you ran a hand over his arm, letting him murmur silently to himself until he spoke to you again.
“I don’t think they’ll ever be happy.”
“Who won’t be happy, handsome?” You asked quietly, propping yourself up on an elbow to study his face as he answered.
“Foggy and Karen. Maybe you too, I’m not sure.” His voice cracked, tears pouring down his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut.
“Hey, hey,” You shushed, drawing him back into your chest. “Oh, Matty—“
“What am I supposed to do?” His hazel eyes reopened, revealing a hopelessness you were shocked to see. “I hear people screaming for help and I…I can’t just lay here doing nothing. I don’t know how. And I try to explain but no one understands. I don’t know what to do,” When he uttered your name this time, it was a desperate request—to confirm that you understood, that you wouldn’t hold his actions against him.
“Oh, Matt, honey, I’m so sorry.” You rested your chin atop his head as he sobbed into your collarbone. “Sweetheart, you are so good at what you do. You’re a fucking hero. No one is mad about you choosing to use every ability you have to help people, we just worry about you, sweets, that’s all. And, I can’t speak for the others, but you shouldn’t have to worry about making me happy, ok? As long as you’re alive—“
“He’s going to leave me.” Ah. That’s where his mind was getting stuck. The words were broken, Matt’s voice strained beyond recognition as he voiced his fear. “He’s going to leave me like you did.”
A lump of emotion clogged your throat, tears wavering against your waterline. “Matt, you know I didn’t leave because of you, right?”
He shrugged against you, body still trembling as he cried.
“Matty, I adore you. I loved working with you and seeing you every day, sweets. I just couldn’t live on pies and hand-knit gloves in one of the most expensive cities in the country. I needed income, not an escape. I’m still here. I’m still yours.”
Heaving out a shaky breath, Matt nodded. Caressing his cheek, you asked. “What did my heartbeat tell you?”
“Truth.” He whispered. The two of you sat in silence, your hand absentmindedly running through his mussed hair as his body stopped shaking. Just when you thought the fear of abandonment had been swayed for the night, he piped up one last time.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“About Foggy?” You clarified, biting your lip when Matt nodded. With a sigh, you brought your fingers to his silky hair once again. “Matt, I am not psychic, I don’t know what the future will look like for the two of you, but I know that Foggy loves you. So does Karen, and so do I. And you don’t leave the people you love. You talk it out, you forgive them for their mistakes.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Matt whimpered.
“I don’t think you have to worry about that. But I’ll be right here with you through it all, ok?” Pressing your lips to his forehead, you brushed a few strands of hair away from his face. “I don’t want to scare you, sweet boy, but I have to go into your kitchen for a moment. I brought some food with me that I’m going to put in your fridge for later. I’ll get you some water too. Anything else you need?”
“Aspirin.” He murmured, blank eyes glossy with tears.
“Of course, sweets. I’ll be right back.” With another brush of fingers over his scalp, you wriggled out from under him and hurried to the kitchen—shoving the food into his bare fridge while grabbing water and pills.
He took the medicine you handed him diligently, his expression uncharacteristically blank. Draining the glass of water, he handed the empty cup to you without a word. You could see him slipping away into the recesses of his mind, trying to shove everything down once again, to handle it all himself.
Sliding under the covers next to him, you wrapped him in a tight embrace as he buried his damp face in your neck.
“Talk to me, sweets. What do you need?”
“Just you.” Matt choked out, fisting your shirt in his hands as if worried you were imaginary. “Please.”
“I’m right here. Always.” Kissing his crown, you ran a hand along his spine, humming softly as his breathing evened out.
He wasn’t through the rough patch yet, but that was ok. You were going to be here regardless. And you’d tell him that every day until he believed you.
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