#oh? you thought id just say one flower? i lied | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eshithepetty · 1 year

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EXCELLENT CHOICE to actually show ???%'s expressions a little instead of them just being a black void with white, blank eyes. Especially since we don't get their internal narration like we do in the manga. Gives a nod to the fact that this is a person, not just an unthinking entity,,, i love it

[ID: two screenshots of Unknown Percentage from season 3, episode 10 of Mob Psycho 100, where they're first shown to be glaring, teeth gritted, then raising their head, eyes widening in what looks like surprise. End ID.]

Also, anyone else get the sense that here, ???% was leaning in to Teru to check if..... well, maybe not if he's okay, but if he's alive at least? Whether or not that means they care for Teru's well being, I'm not sure, but I find it interesting. In the least, it does show that they are aware that they are hurting people, and not just doing it indiscriminately, so that's something.

[ID: a screenshot of Unknown Percentage eerily leaning over Teru, who is prone. End ID.]

In light of that, it's also interesting to consider exactly what ???% kept attacking Teru for then. This part is gonna get a bit long, though (as ???% is my childe and I have many a dozen thoughts about them), so I'm putting it under readmore.

(Also, there are gonna be manga spoilers on account of me getting way too deep into it, so beware !!)

[ID: a screenshot of Unknown Percentage, facing away from the viewer, looking up at the sky where Teru's bag is exploding where it floats. All the following images are screenshots as well. End ID.]

1 ) First thing first, ???% immediately destroys Teru's bag. I don't think there's much to this one, but you could consider this a sign of hypervigilance - they saw Teru drop something, and immediately went to destroy it, perhaps in fear that it was aimed for them. So it quickly becomes obvious, that ???% is quite distrustful.

[ID: In the first, Teru is in side profile, looking to an off screen Unknown Percent, saying, "I'm not sure what happened," and in the next image, he is facing front, his face still relaxed, but now illuminated by the white light of Unknown Percentage's powers, saying "but if I'd suffice, I'd be happy to lis-" then cutting off. End ID.]

2 ) Next, Teru says this, and ???% immediately gets angry... I think. The first part, the implication from Teru that 'something must have happened for you to act this way' is what annoys ???% more. Because to them, they're just finally acting as they've always wanted to.. This isn't a bad thing to them. And they're frustrated that Teru, this person that acted much like them not even that long ago, is looking to talk them out of it.

[ID: In the first, we see Mob's bouquet of flowers, Teru off screen saying "Oh, you bought flowers! That's great!". In the next, he's smiling as he says, "But it might be a little dangerous going as you are right now.". In the third, he is illuminated by that same light, only brighter, his hair sweeping back, his expression turning panicked. End ID.]

3 ) Now this one... manga readers will know, ???% wanted to see Tsubomi as much as Mob. And so Teru denying them that chance here... well, suffice it to say, they feel a bit rejected here. Reigen told Mob in the previous episode to show his 'true self'. And in ???%'s eyes, they are the true self. To let Mob simply continue on, lie to Tsubomi as they see it, and keep pretending ???% wasn't a part of him, as if they weren't the whole reason he was even still alive right now... ???% probably would find that unbearable.

[ID: In the first, Teru is frowning and sweating, saying, "You leave me no choice." In the next, the background behind him has turned an ominous purple, his expression intense, Unknown Percent's shoulder seen in the corner as Teru restrains them with his telekinetically powered scarf, and says "I'm gonna have to keep you restrained until your powers calm-". And in third, we see his vacant face, flying through the clouded sky, his noise slightly bleeding. End ID.]

4 ) Once again, Teru is denying ???% being a part of Mob, being Kageyama-kun, instead labeling them as just Mob's 'power'. Fitting for Teru, who just in this episode said, "[Kageyama-kun taught me], how important it is to accept yourself without any psychic powers." For Teru, accepting himself without his powers was essential, since he hinged his everything on them to an unhealthy degree. But to Shigeo, the opposite is true. And ???% has had enough of being restrained.

[ID: In the first, it's closed up on Teru's trembling hand, which he is clutching with the other, saying "Kageyama-kun...." The second image is a closeup of Teru's eye, slightly serious, as he says "Stop this. You should head home for the day." And third is a similarly composed closeup of Unknown Percent's eye, glowing a bright white against his shadowed skin, as Teru continues off screen, "It's for your own good." End ID.]

5 ) The same as in the third point, except this time, there's the added salt of Teru saying "It's for your own good", as if he even knows the slightest thing about ???%, and, by extension, about Shigeo (as ???% sees it). Logically, we know that it truly doesn't do Shigeo any good to let ???% just keep rampaging like this. But ???% doesn't. Feelings are often irrational. And in this case, ???% just feels scorned.

[ID: In first, it is closed up on Unknown Percent, them turning back to the flowers flying behind them, their mouth slightly open in alarm. Teru in the background is staring wide-eyed, aura glowing. In second, Teru is looking more serious, saying, "If I destroy those...". In third, it is focused on the flowers, Unknown Percent and Teru in the background, as the bouquet gets enveloped in Teru's powers, seemingly exploding. In fourth, it is closed up on Teru's gritted teeth, as Unknown Percent grips their hand around his throat, choking him. End ID.]

6 ) Once again, same as third point... ???% is very determined to do this one thing 'right'. The fact that Teru almost took that chance entirely away from them probably scares them. And, of course... there's the obvious parallels with the choking.... this follows Teru's little inner monologue about how Mob has changed him. So even though I am still undecided on whether this was an intentional act of revenge on ???%'s part or not, the narrative meaning of this is pretty clear... they are, as Mob said all that time ago, the same, in that Mob needs to deal with his feelings involving his powers just as Teru did.

[ID: In first, Teru is noticeably beat up, expression worn and concerned, as he asks, "Kageyama-kun, are you having some kind of episode?". In second and third, it pans the back of Teru's head across the screen to reveal more of Unknown Percentage, a he says "To think you, of all people, would go berserk and lose control of your powers...". In fourth, the background has turned to a splash of warm yellow, as Teru disjointedly smiles, points a finger at them and proclaims "I guess you're pretty average, too! I'm a bit relieved, honestly.". The fifth is a closeup of Unknown percent's eye, staring angrily. And the next, the lines shadowing them get more intense, and Teru in the background lets out a "No..." End ID.]

7 ) Whoooowgh,,, this part..... it's hard to hear, but ???% gasps a little after Teru calls them average. I think... this runs deeper than Shigeo's relationship to Teru and their collective view on a person's worth. I think, this traces way back to Reigen. When he told Mob, right after he hurt a loved one with strength beyond any 'normal' person all by accident, that he's 'just like everyone else'. That he's average. I think... this talk. Was instrumental to the born divide between Mob and ???%, just as the actual violent act was. Because how do you reconcile the fact that you're apparently just some normal, average, harmless little kid, with the fact that you can also kill people without even trying? While not even aware?

Reigen does say, after all, upon seeing this. Upon actually witnessing ???%, Mob's power in it's entirety, that he didn't know about this. He didn't know. He had no idea, and he was just speaking out of his ass about things he didn't understand... so while that advice did help Mob immensely in a lot of ways, people aren't wrong about that... I think. A lot of people are also missing that this advice Reigen gives isn't the full picture. That it is, just like everything about the conman, flawed. Just as Reigen influenced Mob positively, he was also one of the negative influences in his life, that led to this point. To Mob splitting himself in halves, and paying the price.

Everything and everyone, after all, has two sides to them.

[ID: First is a closeup of Teru's eyes, the background being a stark white, everything illuminated in a haunting red glow. His expression is horrified, he is bleeding from his nose, and someone in the background is yelling "Help!". In the second and third, Unknown Percentage turns to Teru wordlessly, as the people around them continue to shout "Look out!" and "Save me!". End ID.]

8 ) And you can see it here. The way ???% is staring at Teru, almost asking him, "Do you see it? What I am actually capable of? Is this really 'the average' you speak of?" because I have the feeling, Shigeo is tired of people brushing past his very real concerns of being more than capable of hurting people, to a disastrous extent. To deny he is different in any way, is to deny his capabilities are different, and that what he needs is different as well. He cannot go on living just as any other human without powers, or as any other esper even. Because although he is equal to everyone else on a human level, he is not the same as everyone. This desire to fit in, to not stand out, to not acknowledge his unique fears and desires and feelings, is the entire reason 'Mob' as a persona got constructed. And ???% is finally finding the chance to unravel all of it.

[ID: two shots framed from low perspective, the background being a cloudy, gray sky, as Unknown Percentage first looks down at an off screen unconscious Teru, then turns their back, beginning to walk away. End ID.]

It is meaningful, then, that after this, ???% just lets the people Teru saved float, and leaves the boy to lay on the ground, to continue on. It wasn't really their intention to hurt people just to hurt. They certainly don't care that much about their pain right now, either, but. It was for a point. It was all just to prove a point, to Teru, to the world. That they're not something to be stifled. That their desires deserve to be heard, too. And, more than anything... I think it was a way to get back at Mob, at this person that has shunned them all this time, and say - you think you're the only one who deserves to be happy? You think you can be happy, with me continuing to writhe underneath the surface, unacknowledged, like this? How long are you going to go on? How long, until I'm able to exist freely again? And how long, until you realize, that what happened 4 years ago, wasn't a fluke?

Because they're not the one who hurt Ritsu. It wasn't some otherworldy entity, this power that is inhuman and uncontrollable and unreachable. It was Shigeo. Shigeo, who is comprised of Mob, in all his desire for self control, and ???%, in all his desire for freedom. And only through them meeting together, can they fulfill both, and learn to not repeat those same mistakes.

Because Shigeo is human. And Shigeo is the protagonist of his own life. For better, for worse <3

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #kageyama shigeo #hanazawa teruki #meta #character analysis #unknown percentage #question mark percent #mp100 season 3 spoilers #mp100 manga spoilers #mp100 finale spoilers #described #my own post #god this took so long sjdfsjfs...#but fuck i needed to get this out there :')#man... the horrors were truly witnessed today;;;... cant wait for them to return in a week ahahahh....#anyways i.need to go to sleep now. buhyeee;; o(-(

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soupdeewoop · 9 days

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favorite lines from "THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT"

your wife waters flowers, i want to kill her

All my mornings are monday stuck in an endless february

but you're in self-sabotage mode, throwing spikes down the road

we're modern idiots

You smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate

i scratch your head, you fall asleep, like a tattooed golden retriever

sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me, but you told lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave

'cause it fit too right, puzzle pieces in the dead of night, I shouldve known it was a matter of time

'cause i knew too much, there was danger in the heat of my touch, he saw forever so he smashed it up

did you really beam me up?, in a cloud of sparkling dust, just to do experiments on, tell me I was the chosen one, showed me that this world is bigger than us, then sent me back where I came from

now im down bad crying at the gym, everything comes out teenage petulance, "fuck it if I cant have him", "I might just die, it would make no difference"

how dare you think its romantic, leaving me safe and stranded

my spine split from carrying us up to the hill, wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill

thinking how much sad did you think I had, did you think I had in me? oh the tragedy

i stopped cpr, after all its no use

two graves, one gun, ill find someone

you swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? i died on the alter waiting for the proof

i just learned these people try and save you 'cause they hate you

id rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin', ill tell you something 'bout my good name, its mine along with all the disgrace, I don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empire's clothing

there's a lot of people in town that I bestow upon my fakest smiles

my friends tried, but i wouldn't hear it, watched me daily disappearing, for just one glimse of his smile

another summer, taking cover, rolling thunder, he doesnt understand me, splintered back in winter, silent dinners, bitter, he was with her in dreams

little did you know you home's really only a town youre just a guest in

florida, is one hell of a drug, florida, can I use you up?

little did you know your home's really only the town youll get arrested, so pack your life away just to wait out the shitstorm back in texas

i need to forget, so take me to florida, ive got some regrets, ill bury them in florida, tell me I'm despicable, say its unforgivable, at least the dolls are beautiful, fuck me up, florida

go on, fuck me up

this cage was once just fine, am i allowed to cry?

what if hes written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

these fatal fantasie given way to laboured breath taking all of me, weve already done in my head

what if the way you hold me is actually whats holy?

they dont know how youve haunted me so stunningly, i choose you and me, religiously

if you wanted me dead you shouldve just said

crash the party like a record crash as i scream, "whos afraid of little old me?", you should be

i wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me, you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

you caged me and then you called me crazy, i am what i am 'cause you trained me, so whos afraid of me?

they shake their heads saying, "god, help her" when i tell 'em hes my man

ill show you heaven if youll be an angel, all mine

whoa, maybe i cant

i thought i was better safe than starry-eyed

if you know it in one glimpse, its legendary, you and i go from one kiss to getting married

you shit-talked me under the table, talking rings and talking cradles, i wish i could unrecall, how we almost had it all

youre the loss of my life

the lights refract sequin stars off her silhouette every night, i can show you lies

'cause im a real tough kid, i can handle my shit, they said "babe, you gotta fake it till you make it" and i did

lights, camera, bitch, smile, even when you wanna die

im so depressed, i act like its my birthday everday

'cause im miserable (haha), and nobody even knows, try and come for my job

and i dont even want you back, i just want to know, if rusting my sparking summer was the goal

you didnt measure up in any measure of a man

in fifty years will all this be declassifed?, and ill say, "good riddance"

i wouldve died for youre sins, instead i just died inside

so when i touch down, call the amateurs and cut 'em from the team

'cause the sign on your heart said its still reserved for me, honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

he jokes that "its heroin, but this time with an E"

you look like clara bow

this town is fake but youre the real thing, breath of fresh ait through smoke rings

the crowd goes wild at her fingertip, half moon shine, a full eclipse

youre the new god were worshipping, promise to be dazzling

beauty is a beast that roars down on all fours demanding more

you look like taylor swift, in this light, were loving it, youve got edge, she never did, the futures bright, dazzling

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iworshipsappho · 7 months

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c!tommy for the headcanon ask game :DDD

🧸👻🎭🥇📚💔👽😶😭

(you dont have to answer all/more than one of them, idc I´m just really curious lol)

OOOOH this is gonna be funnnn >:333 strap right in!!!

🧸 A headcanon about their childhood mmm so ykn choomy was just 9 during the whole first war right? well uh imma take his childhood to be before everything went down. He was a summer child, bright vibes, all toothy grins and scraped up muddy knees. c!wilbur was a damn worrier, every time he saw c!toms all bloodied up mans would get anxious as fuck despite the obvious joy on tommy's face. and so when will wud bandage tommy up, tommy too would take a couple bandaids and stick them all over will's face and colour them in. so like when they're done wilbur wud just be a mess of awkwardly stuck bandaids covering his face while tommy would be haphazardly patched up :')

👻 A headcanon about what scares them mmm well, we all know about the tnt. im not too sure if the phantoms are canon or not, but to me ctoms is definitely terrified of them. and dont even get me started on bodies of water. both remind him of sleepless nights during exile and just utter helplesssness. im sure we all remember him waking up drowing every single fucking day. so yeah...

🎭 A headcanon about what they lie about oooh he's such a fucking liar man. he lies about almost everything, but not in a ooh im a teenage boy who's an idiot way. he just doesnt think that anyone would actually be interested in what he has to say. the only person he didnt lie to after exile was revivedbur, even with tubbo sometimes he wouldnt know whether or not to tell him how fucked up he actually was and wud lie that he was fine all the fucking time. another person he never lied to was probably cjack, he just didnt care what jack thought of him. oh he also probably lied about all the times shroud inadvertently hurt him, to chommy thats just how the spider shows affection and acknowledgement

🥇 A headcanon about what they’re best at he's the bestest boy ever. period. uhhh but liek if i had to specify smth uhhh my boy loves to crochet and he's ace at it. i personally dunno much about crochet but like i know we as a fandom widely headcanon the blue sweater knitting thing but like, imagine crocheting man. he'd just go full brrrr mode with it. like, someone wants smth? boom he fucking crochets it for them, in my mind, c!beeduo have a bunch of crocheted alliums that chommy made. (alliumduo my beloved, id give my life for them)

💔 An angsty headcanon ooofff my boy is the embodiment of angst man ffffffff. mmm so ykn how ctom's limbo was just utter darkness? well what if it wasnt. what it instead of darkness, he had every single "mistake" he ever made replayed over and over like a dream sequence? what id he spent months just unable to escape from visions of his life on the dsmp. the community house, cgeorge's house, the foirstever time lmanberg blew up, nov 16th, doomsday, techno killing tubo, etc etc. all things that tommy think he couldve stopped, all the things he blames himself for. what if his limbo was both complete isolation, but being hounded by his past. what if

👽 A headcanon about a weird quirk of there mmmm c!tommy with braids my belovedddddd. i do it, so he does it to. whenever he gets anxious or fidgety, he just plucks out the front few strands of his hair and just starts teisting or braiding them. over and over, undoing and doing htem again, just to keep himself grounded and his hands occupied. he also adresses every bee he meets as if htey're ctubbo's messenger, calling them a big man and trying to leash them. oh and when he picks flowers, he comes up with whole backstories for each one :333

😶 A random headcanon! oooh he was sooooo a loom band kid man istg. he would be obsessed with them!!!!! like henry's horns would be completely covered in like absurdly coloured sets of loom band bracelets even his own hands would be coveredddddd in them up till his elbows. at least. and like he even managed to drag ranboo into it and to tubbo's absolute chagrine they both would just sit for hours on end making bracelts. c!techno was also roped into it during exile, and phil would just look at them amused. ooooh if only c!phil had a camera, he would have soooooo many pictures of techno's supposedly "deadly" base littered with torn pieces of loom bands

💜

#ooh this was so fun i love thinking about chommy!!!!!!! :DDDDD #asks.#ask game #idcwhatmyusernameisblorp #tommyinnit #c!tommyinnit #c!tommy #dsmp #dsmp headcanon #c!tommy hc #methinks mesays.#holy fuck just realised this has just been sitting in my drafts ogmggg

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huginsmemory · 3 years

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Ask game! 🌸 and 🔥

Thank you so much for asking!

🌸- Favourite plant?

Ohhhhhh boy uhhmmmm I'm gonna limit it to small flowering native plants within the PNW cause thats difficult. I think one of my favourites may be one-flowered wintergreen, OR by the name I just discovered they're called by, frog's reading-lamp (Uhm excuse me??? Adorable). I like them because in the beginning of last summer I discovered them on a hike while I working at a research station, and thought they were beautiful! They carpet the ground with their small green and circular leaves with their lovely white flowers above. I really like small things so that's probably another reason why I really like them (which reminds me of another flower I find super cool, which are gnome plants!!!!! They have a dumb name and are also kinda dumb from a reproductive/evolutionary point of view too, but they're really beautiful and look like stars when they first come out of the ground! since that's where they generally just hang out- they're parasites on other plants lol. Although some flowering ground plants are actually mycotrophic, rather then saphrophitic (parasites) which mean they live by tapping into fungal systems in the soil instead (they both don't photosynthesize!). An example of these mycotrophic plants are ghost pipe, or most of our orchids here in the PNW!!!). All are v rad and I'm excited since they should be coming up again soon, ghost pipe and orchids first.

Frogs reading-lamp

Gnome plant

🔥- would i ever commit arson?

Generally I'd say no, but also... If the opportunity arose to Molotov cocktail something belonging to a billionaire or a politician or some slimy racist asshole, and get away with it I'd probably do it. If I'm mad enough, I wouldn't care if I couldn't get away with it ahaha...

#muninspeaks #asks!!#oh? you thought id just say one flower? i lied #also last year got v excited about dicentra (bleeding hearts) since i saw them for the first time when i was out hiking and like !!!!!!#me anytime i see a new plant: :OOOOOO #like. i literally fucking go ballistic when i go into ecosystems that i havent visited yet cause like. :OOOOOO SO MANY NEW PLANTS #theyre just all so fucking COOL #like man. whenever i travel im like: face on ground staring at plants #also i sketch the birds i see when i travel usually #and do try to do the plants as well but it really depends on how im travelling and doing touristy things #since i do want to also draw the cool architecture and shit

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desiredmalfoy · 3 years

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Love Lost (D.M. x Reader)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Universe: No Voldy but still pain in this story.

Genre: Angst! And more Angst!

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: The reader feels like she’s losing Draco to Astoria. Does he still love her? Will he fix it?

Warning: Some bad words? Not too many.

{Draco Masterlist} { Main Masterlist }

(Credit to the gif owner)

I was in a mood for angst today lol. After having writers block for so long I finally came up with this. Hopefully I can finish my wips, ships and requests soon! Let me know if you want a part 2

You usually didn’t have a problem with any of Draco’s friends. Sure, some of them could be real idiots but for the most part they were nice to you. But you had recently ran into a problem, and her name was Astoria Greengrass. She was Daphne’s little sister who painfully obviously had a crush on your boyfriend. You hated seeming like an over jealous girlfriend, so you didn’t know how to truly react to this.

He had begun to spend more time with her after she had practically begged him for help in potions. She had come up to him in the common room when you were studying and pleaded with him for help. Her eyes seemed to sparkle when he finally agreed.

He seemed reluctant at first but ultimately agreed. He had said to you, “I’m only helping her so that she doesn’t tell her parents I refused. Last thing I need is my parents' comments.”

It had started innocent, he would help her twice a week in the library. As the weeks progressed, they were hanging out more and more often. He would finish quidditch practice and then meet her in the common room. Telling you that he would see you later but later never came.

He had even forgotten one of your dates. He apologized profusely and promised to make it up to you. He didn’t, he forgot too.

One date became two and then you lost count. You were tired of being disappointed.

You had walked into the common room after spending the evening studying with Pansy. All your friends had gotten together to study for an upcoming potions exam. All except Draco who didn’t show up. After walking in, that’s when you saw the two of them sitting in a corner table of the common room. You felt your stomach drop. Your mouth began to dry up and it felt sticky. You didn’t know how to react.

“What an arse”, Pansy mumbled to you. She reached for your hand to give it as squeeze. Letting you know she’s there for you. She had heard you complain all the time, she knew the pain you felt. And she was over seeing you getting walked over.

“Oh looks who’s here (y/n)! We finally found him!” Pansy exclaimed dramatically. This caused the two of them to break from their world and turn to the two of you.

“What do you mean Parkinson?” Draco asked, breaking the silence in the room. The air felt stifling. Astoria only looked up at you and Pansy, not making a comment.

“We were all meant to study together.” Pansy answered bluntly. “Did you forget that too Malfoy?”

“What the bloody hell do you mean?”

“You seem to forget everything as of late” You got the courage to speak up suddenly, beating Pansy. You glanced over at her as she gave you an encouraging look.“ I mean you always seem to forget our dates.”

The lump in your throat grew more and more by the second.

“Babe I-”

“I’m getting quite tired. It’s been a long steady session. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” You interrupted him, stopping him before he spoke. You had enough of this and the last thing you needed was for them to see you cry.

You let go of Pansy's hand and adjusted the strap of your bag. You made your way towards your dorm, trying to get out of there as fast as possible.

You walked into your dorm, slamming it shut. You threw your book bag across the room. Letting out some of the anger you felt. You grabbed a pillow from your bed and threw it at the door. You threw yourself onto your bed, frustrated beyond belief. The door opened and revealed the last person you wanted to see.

“What are we exactly”, you asked bluntly as he walked into your dorm. Draco looked at you confused as he looked towards you.

“What do you even mean?”

“I mean I don’t feel like your girlfriend anymore.” You rolled your eyes at his lack of comprehension. “You barely want to be around me it seems. I haven’t seen you in days Draco but you know who has? Astoria.”

“Don’t be bloody ridiculous (y/n). She’s my friend and nothing more. You’re overreacting.” It was his turn to roll his eyes at you.

You stood up suddenly and went to stand face to face with you. “Really? A friend is someone who’s super touchy with you? Someone who openly flirts with you?”

“She’s my friend! You’re just jealous!” His face was becoming redder with anger.

“You’re so draft Draco!” You threw your hands up in anger. Your voice rising slightly in pitch as you kept on getting angrier. “Everyone can see it! Hell, even Crabbe asked me if I was even still your girlfriend. You know how bloody obvious it has to be for that git to see it?”

“You know you wouldn’t like it if it was another guy treating me the way Astoria is with you.”

“She doesn’t like me!” He yelled, frustrated at the situation and at himself. Because it was finally dawning on him what a horrible boyfriend he had been these past few weeks. “And it doesn’t matter if she did because I don’t like her! Please understand that (y/n)!”

“Yes it does! Because you don’t set any boundaries and let her do whatever. You let her think you’re interested. And not one time do you stop & think about me.”

“You have forgotten our dates! You literally left me all alone waiting for you in the astronomy tower because you never showed.” You continued your rant and Draco stayed silent at your outburst. He stared at you with wide eyes and shock. He had never seen you like this.

“Did you know I’m not doing the best on potions anymore? I’m struggling and you don’t seem to care Draco. But sure, as long as Astoria is passing it’s okay I guess.” You were crying at this point as you continued you’re rant. Tears freely flowing from your cheeks. You hated crying, you hated seeming weak.

Draco attempted to wipe the tears from your cheeks but you moved away. Not wanting him to touch you right now. You let out a deep breath, voice quivering. “I don’t know how much more I can handle. My heart can’t take much more.”

“What do you mean darling? I love you. Please (y/n), I love you so much. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I think you’re a little too late for that.”

“Please. Please think about this. I’m so sorry.” He was now starting to cry himself, something that was rare for him. He didn’t just cry for anyone. But his tears didn’t take away the hurt he had caused.

“You’ve broken my trust. You’ve hurt me. It’s going to take more than saying I’m sorry to let this all go.”

“I’ll do anything love.”

“You have to see where your heart lies. If you do actually love me, you’ll have to gain my trust back Draco.”

“Babe…” he grabbed your cheeks titling your head to look at him in the eyes. Both your eyes shining from the tears. “I’ll do that and so much more.”

“For the sake of our relationship, I hope you mean it. But I think I need some time to myself tonight and maybe tomorrow too.” You grabbed his hands, taking them away from your face. You gave them a slight squeeze before letting them go. Hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time you held them.

He left without saying another word. As you watched him walk out of your dorm, you dropped to the floor. Letting all the emotions of the past weeks flowing out. All the hurt, all the sadness and all the angry flowing down your cheeks.

Thoughts? Part 2??

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Permission To Go Out

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam, Jack (all platonic)

Inspiration: Season 14, Episode 16 – Don’t Go Into The Woods

Warnings: Some language, slight injury.

Summary: While you and the brothers are out on a case, Jack graces your phone with a call to ask if he can hang out with the kids in town (like the sweet boy he is)

The Impala came to a stop and when you looked out the window, you saw several rows of cars before the motel rooms were visible.

“Okay, now you’re being petty.”

You had called him out for doing a crappy parking job when they were at the gas station and then again when they did a small pit stop for food. The second time was just to get under his skin and you got a few insults in that managed to get a chuckle from Sam.

As an act of revenge, Dean purposely parked the car in the spot furthest from their motel room so you’d have to walk.

“Sweetheart, I don’t do petty.” Dean said and got out of the drivers seat.

You followed his lead and stepped out of the car. You closed the backdoor with your hip and suddenly found a duffle bag being shoved into your arms - the weapons inside of it clanging against one another.

“And because of your antics on the road, you’re going to be the one doing the double trip to unload our stuff.” Dean told you with a smug grin. He walked off in the direction of their room while you made your way over to Sam who had just pulled his bag over his shoulder.

“What a baby, am I right?” You scoffed.

Sam shifted the weight of his bag and chuckled. “Is the long walk and double trip not enough punishment for you?” He wondered. You smiled back and started to follow after the blonde with the tall hunter.

“Okay but I wasn’t wrong when I said that Jack could have pulled up at the gas station better than him.”

“I think Dean would rather sell the car to a scrapyard before admitting that he did a poor job.”

You and Sam laughed at the hunters expense and caught up with him at the front door - a door that Dean was just staring at.

You cleared your throat loudly. “Hey, Einstein? You put the key in the hole and then you turn the handle.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the tune and ignored the sarcastic comment entirely, instead he turned to you and Sam with a smile.

“Get ready to feast your eyes on the very same room that Bon Jovi stayed in during his first ever American tour.”

You had a witty remark at the tip of your tongue but was forced to catch it when you felt your phone buzz in her pocket.

Dean opened up the room as you fished out the device, smiling at the caller ID. You stepped inside after Sam and pressed the phone to your ear.

“Hey.” You answered, casually tossing the duffle bag on the closest bed.

“Hello, (Y/n). I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” You replied and earned yourself a questioning look from Dean.

Jack, you mouthed back.

You grabbed the Impala keys from the table and shook them at the boys so they’d know that you were going to retrieve the rest of their things. Dean was staring at the picture frames on the wall with awe but Sam noticed your action and nodded.

Leaving them inside, you walked back the way you came.

“We’ve only been out for a couple of hours. Is everything okay?” You asked the young boy. You weren’t the biggest fan of leaving him in the bunker alone and, if this case hadn’t been so bizarre, you would have stayed with the nephilim.

The only thing that kept you from constant worry was that Jack had voluntarily agreed to keeping you in the loop – texting when he left the bunker and when he got to town - he even sent photos of flowers and the ice-cream selection at the parlour.

“I’m fine.” Jack answered, glancing over his shoulder at the distracted teenagers on their phones. “Actually, I met a group of kids and they invited me to hang out with them.”

You couldn’t help but frown a little. Jack was still at risk outside of the bunker.

“Do I know any of these kids?” You asked.

“I think so - they said that you, Dean and Sam saved them from the ghost of a clown a few weeks ago.”

Ah, so it was the teenaged trio who stole Dean’s car that Jack had bumped into.

You had reached the car and opened the backseat door, leaning in and pulling out the second duffle. “And where will you be hanging out?”

Jack realised that if he told you about the exact location that you’d be worried so he took it on himself to alter the information.

“It’s not too far from Main Street.” He lied, feeling his stomach twist a little, and noticed that you went quiet over the phone as you thought about it.

“They’ve all asked their parents for permission.” He added quickly. “I figured that I’d ask mine.”

You locked the car up, leaning against the black paint as you considered the options.

If you agreed, then Jack would be able to interact with humans naturally but he’d risk his safety. If you kept him from going then Jack would be safe but it could easily spark a rebellious flame in him or have him believe that he was to be locked away in the bunker.

“And you didn’t call Dean or Sam about this because...?”

“Because I know that they would say no.” Jack told you instantly.

He wasn’t wrong. If he had called either one - or even Castiel - they would vote against him going out.

You sighed and started walking back to the motel. “Okay, you can go but-“

“Yes!”

“-you have to promise me that you’ll be back home by sundown.” You could just imagine the grin on the boys face.

“I will, I promise!” Jack told you. The joy in his voice was hard to hide. “Thank you, (Y/n).”

You smiled back, “You’re welcome. Now go have fun and be safe.”

You hung up the call just as you entered the motel again and found that your co-hunters had started to set themselves up. Dean polished the weapons on the bed with a few papers laid out in front of him and Sam had taken the entirety of the living room where lore books, police reports and his laptop were scattered.

“You’re back.” Sam noted as he looked up. “I could use your help on these.”

You dropped the duffle on the floor and rolled back your shoulder a few times to relieve the dull ache. Then you moved across the floor and joined Sam, catching Dean’s attention.

“What did the kid want?” He wondered.

“Oh, he was just asking if he could buy some extra boxes of Crunch Cookie Crunch.” You answered.

Lying to the brothers made your stomach turn but, in an effort to protect Jack while giving him a normal life, it had to be done.

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faunrasthewinterelf · 4 years

Text

Calm After the Storm Pt.2

And So it Begins

I’m actually excited for this? like I’m so nervous, but here we go! here's roughly 4047 words that ive written and agonized over for you Maribat lovers!

please let me know what you guys think!

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Marinette Cheng meets Richard (Dick) Grayson at the start of the tour of Wayne Enterprises. She’s outside, leaning against the tall form of Chloe Bourgeois, her best friend who had shot up like a damn weed in the past year, and trying her best to stay awake. While everyone else in the class had gotten to adjust to the time zone change, Marinette and Madame Bustier had gone over to the Martha Wayne Foundation building to settle the scheduling and award intricacies. She had also seen a photo of her biological paternal grandparents for the first time, which had been nice.

But today. Today was tiring and it wasn’t even 8:30 yet. It was cold, which isn't helping her attempts at staying awake, even though she had on a newer, thicker outfit, bundled up tight to ward off the cold that was seeping into her bones and irritating her side. Damn Ladybug Effects

Marinette was trying her hardest to leech the warmth from Chloe while the two waited for Lila ‘Oh, my ankle hurts, I must have twisted it!’ Rossi to limp her way off the bus. The rest of the class and Madame Bustier were all behind the liar. Which meant Marinette was in the cold, and THAT was commonly known as a bad idea at this point. Chloe was huffing as she kept an arm wrapped around Marinette’s looking ready to murder Lila. Listening to the Italian girls lies was a staple for their lives at this point, and Marinette couldn't help a sarcastic,

“And so it begins.”

Chloe snorted at that, wrapping her arm around her tiny friend’s shoulders, rubbing her back, before the blonde snarled at another shiver from Marinette, and just dragged the poor girl inside to wait.

Getting inside is a blessing, and as the warmth hits Marinette, she lifts her face away from where it was squished against Chloe’s arm to keep her nose warm.

Almost immediately, Marinette is digging through her bag for her small sketchbook to start jotting down ideas from the lobby alone. Chloe, on the other hand, starts fishing out the NDA’s the class had signed that morning from Marinette’s bag, and begins flipping through them to make sure that everyone’s was accounted for. The two girls settle into the couches by the entrance waiting for the rest of the class.

After a couple minutes, Lila walks through the door, (wow, her ankle is already better!), and smiles around at her surroundings, looking as if she just walked into a loved home rather than a building she’s never been to. Her eyes light up as she smirks, before turning to her loyal followers friends, and though Chloe and Marinette can’t hear what she’s saying, they can imagine.

Madame Bustier frowns at the two girls on the seats to the side as she approaches the front desk, but is quickly distracted by the secretary as the two begin discussing the tour, and its itinerary. Lila and her group have navigated to the other side of the lobby, away from Marinette and her friends, thankfully, but are talking loudly, interrupting people as they enter the building. From the corner of her eye, Marinette can practically see Adrien frowning in hers and Chloe's direction, can practically feel his disapproval.

Just as she is finishing shading in a particularly pretty flower in a planter, one of the elevators to her right dings. A rather tall man steps out, straightening his tie, a clipboard tucked under his arm. He looks to be roughly 6’2 and is dressed in a white button down tucked into plain black slacks, with a nice pair of black shoes. He glances over at their loud wayward class before spotting Madame Bustier and heading over to the secretaries desk to join her. Marinette nudged her friend, who looked up from the NDA’s, adjusting the Miraculous on her head as she looked up.

“Looks like the tour is starting soon,” the bluenette is already standing, slipping her coat off to drape over her bag. Chloe eyes their classmates, as if debating whether or not they actually would be starting soon and if it was worth standing up, before sighing and giving in, getting to her feet.

“Then let’s go give Madame Bustier her paperwork, she seems a bit frazzled about it missing.” and indeed she did. Their red headed teacher was shifting through her bag at a frantic rate, clearly worried about something. Marinette shook her head. Madame Bustier had asked Marinette to collect the files for her, she should remember that her class representative had them. The teacher had been foisting a lot of responsibility on Marinette this trip. Already, Chloe had to step in and help her unpack her bags after Madame Bustier had sent Marinette to sort out the rooms of the hotel, and then dragged her to the MWF Building as soon as the small class rep had handed out the room keys to everyone else, and had helped with the NDA’s earlier that morning.

Marinette took the file folder from Chloe as they walked over and she waited patiently beside her panicking teacher for a moment, before clearing her throat to catch Madame Bustier’s attention, holding out the folder for her to take.

“Oh, Marinette, thank you, I thought I had these with me!” Madame Bustier then spun around, handing over the folder, without checking inside, to the gentleman who had to be their tour guide. “Here you are Mr. Grayson, all the NDA’s, as requested! I must have left them on the table this morning!” she gave a charming smile before turning again, and hurrying over to the rest of her class to get everyone else's attention, leaving Chloe and Marinette with the tour guide.

As their teachers' voice rang out over her classmates, Marinette and Chloe shared a look between them. Chloe sighed as she followed after their teacher, and Marinette turned to the man beside her.

“Bonjour, my name is Marinette Cheng, are you the tour guide for today Monsieur…?” she smiled as she held out her hand which was quickly enveloped by his much bigger one,

“Richard Grayson Ms. Cheng! A pleasure to meet you, you’re the one who wrote the winning essay for the Martha Wayne Foundation right? Me and my family all read it! And yes, I am the tour guide today, we’re just waiting on your visitor badges, and then we’ll be on our way!” Richard’s smile was nearly overwhelming, the amount of words coming from him more so, but that wasn’t what had caused Marinette to freeze.

She hadn’t looked at any photos of the Wayne family since she heard about Cassandra Cain-Wayne’s adoption. Sure, she knew what they looked like, but that had been several years ago. Marinette hadn’t anticipated meeting her oldest adopted sibling so soon.

It was weird to talk with her brother Richard, without him knowing they were technically siblings. She shook the feelings off quickly, (years of an emotional terrorist did wonders for emotional control apparently) and allowed her smile to grow wider.

“Thank you Mr. Grayson! I hadn’t had much to do at the time, and the MWF scholarship to GU was worth the late nights! I’m flattered that you and your family liked it so much.” a box full of visitor IDs and lanyards were placed in front of them, and Marinette shot the receptionist, Ms. Keanes, a quick “Thank you!” before carrying them over to the class.

Chloe looked about ready for a nap as she watched over her class, all of them whispering to each other as Madame Bustier went over rules for the Tour. The red head seemed to be willfully ignorant of her class not listening as she spoke, and just smiled at Mr. Grayson as he and Marinette approached. Marinette shook her head as she began handing out the IDs, quick to snag hers and Chloe’s first, slipping both around her neck for the time being as Mr. Grayson began speaking.

She had to admit, her brother Richard seemed determined to give her class the best tour he could. He had notes and anecdotes on that clipboard of his, and he knew how to use them to get attention. Unfortunately, he just wasn’t as captivating as Lila, who had begun to spin another tale of ‘Oh, yes, I spent so much time in Gotham when i was younger that I’m practically a Gothamite! There’s this amazing restaurant nearby, we should go there for dinner tonight!’

By the time lunch rolled around and Richard had gotten the class into the cafeteria, he seemed to have lost most of his determination. Most of the class pushed past him, not even listening to his explanation about the Cafeteria, and his shoulders slumped as he stared after them. Marinette, who had been taking notes about as much as she could, felt a bit guilty for how he was being treated. Chloe had pulled out her tablet about a half hour into the tour and began working on MDC Business, and while Marinette knew Chloe had been listening, she had been focused on her work.

“Mr. Grayson? I’m sorry for my class’s behavior, they’re just, excited, to be in Gotham and haven’t quite gotten it out of their systems yet.” Marinette reached out to tap him on the arm as she spoke, gently prodding him until he looked at her. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I enjoyed the tour, there’s so much to learn, and I can’t wait to go to other floors after lunch! I’ve already jotted down several ideas in my sketchbook, so thank you!”

Richard smiled at her in thanks, eyes brightening a bit as he nodded at her, before fishing out his phone and turning away.

Marinette quickly linked arms with Chloe before walking into the large room, as she only needed space for her and Chloe, who had saved whatever proposal she had been going over as they searched. Once they found a good spot they went and joined the line for food. A few tables down from their spot, the class, who were back to loudly talking to each other and squealing about Lila’s ‘childhood sweetheart, I might be able to see him again! he took me to that restaurant I mentioned earlier as a date actually!’, and were all ignoring the looks that WE employee’s were shooting at them. Madame Bustier all but collapsed on a table for herself, and put in earbuds as she ate.

Marinette shook her head as she and Chloe walked past, getting into line for the small buffet style lunch available. Other employee’s were also entering the room, and while they did have an hour and half lunch, Marinette didn't want to wait too long and have to eat quickly. By the time the girls got their food of choice and sat down at the table they had spotted earlier, the line was quite long, and the rest of the class were at the end of it. They had a long wait.

Lunch passed in quiet, and for the most part she and Chloe just worked. Marinette on a commission Uncle Jagged had requested, one inspired by his hometown, and Chloe back to whatever she had been working on before. It was only interrupted by Mr. Richard Grayson asking to sit with them. He was picking at his food more than eating it, staring with furrowed brows at Madame Bustier and the rowdy class (It was an hour in and most of them had only just gotten food)

“Madame Bustier is of the opinion that they’ll settle down after today.” Her voice seemed to almost startle Richard, but he just turned to look at her, more confused as he asked,

“What? But, your class-”

“Bustier is next to useless when it comes to interventions. She probably won’t do anything about their behavior for a couple more days.” Chloe didn’t even look up from her work as she interrupted Richard, her scorn clear.

“Chloe”

“What, M? It’s true and you know it! She’s treating this more like a vacation than a class trip.” This time the blonde glances over at the teacher, who still had her earbuds in. “She’s not even watching her class! She hasn’t looked up from her Audio Book since she sat down, Mari. I know we're all legal adults and graduated at this point, but it's still a school trip, not a celebration over Hawkmoth’s defeat! We're in one of the most dangerous cities in America, the least she could do is check that all her students are behaving.”

Before Marinette could respond, Richard cleared his throat, drawing their attention to him before he asking,

“Who’s Hawkmoth? What do you mean ‘celebrate his defeat?’ That makes him sound like a supervillain.”

Marinette and Chloe look at each other, before Marinette turns back to her brother the tour guide.

“That’s because he was Mr. Grayson. How didn't you know about him? He terrorized Paris for four years? Mayura, his accomplice helped for roughly three”

Marinette knew it was due to a country wide media blackout and the French Government working with Paris’s governing body to suppress the news further to not put a damper on tourism, but surely something must have gotten out? After the JLE had decided to leave Hawkmoth to Ladybug and her team, she had figured they would at least issue a warning. Chloe chimes in with a tired voice, shoulders lowered and eyes blank,

“He would take control of someone and transform them into a monster using their own negative emotion, and in return, all they had to do was get the Ladybug’s earrings and the Black Cat’s ring. He did it by sending an Akuma, which is a corrupted butterfly, by the way, and they would possess an Item on the victim’s person. Ladybug and Chat Noir, and the others, had to locate and destroy the akumatized object so that Ladybug could purify it. There were normally 4 or 5 of them a week, though they got more frequent and powerful the month he was caught.”

“But, Thats- We would have known about it!” Richard seemed horrified, “The amount of damage that would have happened? Surely something would have gotten out!”

Marinette shook her head. “That's the thing Mr. Grayson, part of Ladybug’s powers, was that she could summon something she needed for the fight. When it was over, she could use her ‘Lucky Charm’ as it's called, to reset all the damage done by the akuma. The buildings got fixed, injuries healed, and many people who were killed were brought back.” She shared a small smile with Chloe,

“Hawkmoth was defeated earlier this year, just after school started. The Miracle Court took back his and his accomplices Miraculous, and both were placed into custody. Last I’d heard, Gabriel Agreste, Hawkmoth was given several life sentences, and Nathalie Sanceour, Mayura was in a high security medical facility for the damage her illness had done. The Court is staying active in Paris for the remainder of the year, but after, the JLE has asked them to either step down or leave Europe. They haven’t announced what they're going to do yet after the year is over.”

Before he could question the girls further, looking rather sour at something, Chloe’s phone alarm went off, meaning they had 10 minutes to clean up. Marinette quickly fished her phone out of her bag, and opened up the BugOut blog. Tilting her screen so Richard could see, she explained as best she could about it as Chloe cleaned up the table.

“This is the official Blog that was dedicated to Ladybug and her efforts. There's another one called the Ladyblog, but it's not the best anymore. Ladybug endorsed that blog for it’s professionalism and writing. It’s not active much anymore, but it’s got a good archive of everything, if you’re curious.”

He had opened his mouth to ask more questions, but then he froze. Marinette had flipped to a photo that showed a comparison of the Teams, and his eyes zeroed in on it. One shot of the current Court of Miracles, Ladybug, Testudo, Byakko, and Cheval Joli, one shot from two years ago with Ladybug, Chat Noir, Rena Rogue, Carapace, and Queen Bee, and finally, one shot from the very beginning, of Ladybug and Chat Noir stood awkwardly in frame.

Marinette shook her head,

“Ladybug and Chat Noir were the first, they were somewhere around 13 or 14 when they started.”

Marinette left him after that. She had garbage to sort out and a plate to return. The two girls waited at the same entrance they came in from, seated on the couches by the door, watching as the class got up at 3:00 on the dot, and left their plates stacked on top of the garbage cans like they were in a fast food place, not a famous Enterprises cafeteria. Madame Bustier and Mr. Grayson joined them shortly after, Mr. Grayson rubbing at his forehead as he walked up.

The second half of the Tour seemed to stretch on for a while. Marinette’s side was beginning to go taught, and she could already tell that a massage and some painkillers would be involved in tonight's bedtime routine. She almost regrets leaving Tikki in their hotel room, the little goddess always healed her in little bursts to help with the pain, but Tikki had been just as tired as Marinette this morning, and the cold was affecting the little Ladybug Kwami harder, so she had left Tikki bundled up near the heater for the day. Besides, Chloe had hers with her, and Akuma’s weren’t a thing they had to worry about. Marinette really hadn’t seen the harm in letting Tikki rest for the day.

While Mr. Grayson (Please, Ms. Cheng, just call me Dick, I promise it’s my nickname, and I honestly prefer it) was watching the rest of her class, he had given up trying to keep their attention, and was basically just speaking directly to Chloe and Marinette, both of whom were paying attention now. The Business and Legal areas were something of great interest to the girls, as they were working together to maintain MDC, Chloe with the business side, and Marinette with the creative side/designing. The class behind the two girls, still wrapped in their own little world, completely missed the looks they were still getting from employees as they passed by workstations and offices.

The only time Madame Bustier intervened was when Alya had a particularly loud outburst, all but shouting out a loud “WHAT?? GIRL YOUR DATING DAMI-” before getting cut off by a sharp “Alya!” from the teacher.

But Marinette hadn’t been paying attention to Lila, her side had escalated from tight to aching, and was now rubbing at her side as she walked, her notebook away and her arm linked with Chloe’s as she wrote, trying to focus more on what Dick was saying rather than the pain.

Of course, with how this bit of the tour was going, Dick had noticed. During a particularly ‘exciting’ bit in whatever lie Lila was spewing, he quietly approached the girls.

“Hey, what’s up Marinette, (then in that case, please, call me Marinette “or Mari” Or Mari, thank you Chloe) are you alright?”

It was startling, to be honest. Beyond Chloe, no one really ever noticed when she was in pain. It took her a second to respond.

“Yes, it’s alright, just, an old wound. It gets bad when it’s cold, and I’ve been walking a lot today.”

His worried eyes scanned over her, seeing how tense she was and how her hand didn’t stop doing small circular motions around the left side of her waist, just below her ribs, He was frowning, and his body screamed concern.

“Do you need a break? There’s a break area on this floor.” His voice was soft as he spoke, but, even though she was tired, getting a break or special treatment now would mean dealing with Lila and Alya later, even if would help with the pain.

“I’m alright, besides, there's barely an hour left, and then we're getting on a bus back to the hotel, I’ll be fine,” Marinette smiled, (was this what its like to have a sibling?)

“And I already made her take some of the Advil she carries with her” comes from the tall blonde next to her. Dick looks at them both like her wants to argue, eyes tight, before he nods.

“If you’re sure.”

Apparently, they weren’t taking a bus back to the hotel. Lila had convinced Madame Bustier to cancel the ride, and let them go to a nearby restaurant for dinner. Which meant the class would be walking back after. Marinette closed her eyes, rubbing at her side firmly as she listened to Lila, Chloe beside her, hip jutted out and arms crossed.

“My Damiboo took me there for a dinner date, it’s where he confessed! Oh it was so romantic, I would love to go eat there again!” her simpering was painful, she was even holding her hand to her chest like she was going to faint, but her other arm was entwined around Adrien’s, and her current boyfriend looked more bored than anything as she described her ‘childhood sweetheart’ As usual, the class was eating it up.

“Oh, Lila! That sounds so romantic!” Rose had her head against Juleka’s shoulder, a dopey grin on her face as she imagined the two on a romantic dinner date.

Alya had turned to Nino with a quirked eyebrow and a sly smile, “Why haven’t you done that to me huh?” before turning towards Madame Bustier.

“Please, may we eat there? It’d make Lila so loved, and she says the food is great! Who better to show us the good places than an honorary Gothamite?” Madame Bustier had already been nodding, happy to appease her class.

“Of course we can, It's not a far walk from here at all!” The class excitedly began chatting, but before they could all set out, Chloe finally intervened.

“Madame Bustier, we’re not supposed to eat out on Mondays, shouldn’t we head back to the hotel?” her words were met with silence, and she was quiet a moment, before continuing,

“Besides, Marinette’s side is beginning to hurt, she nee-”

A loud snort comes from Alya, who rolls her eyes. She looks Marinette up and down, scowling before biting out,

“Please, like she needs, anything! I can’t believe you think she was actually hurt! Everyone knows that Marinette's a bully Chloe, she’s just jealous of Lila, and lying for attention.”

It had been 2 years since she and Alya had been friends, but it still hurt when her old best friend said things like that. When Lila had threatened to take all her friends, Marinette hadn’t believed her. But here she was, all her friends gone, and the only reason she had Chloe at all is because they hadn’t been friends until Lila had everyone else on her side. Marinette and Chloe had sat together at the back of the class, and they’re neutral ‘ill watch your stuff if you watch mine’ had eventually become ‘well now I'd die for you.’ It was nice, having a friend in class again.

Lila, never one to miss a chance, hiccupped loudly before wrapping her arms around herself.

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause trouble, I jus-just wanted to b-be reminded of my Damiboo! I Haven’t-t see-en him in so long!” By the end of it, she had full blown sobs going, and the class closed ranks around her, comforting her while glaring at Chloe and Marinette. Adrien was frowning at Marinette again, eyes almost furious as he glared, and Madame Bustier just sighed.

“Marinette, please, can’t you see Lila needs this? Can’t you take one of your Advil so that we can help Lila? Remember, All the Marinettes of the world?”

She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head, before agreeing. Chloe beside her started to protest again, but stopped when Mari put a hand on her shoulder.

“Alright Madame Bustier.”

“Thank you girls! Alright, Lila!” Madame Bustier clapped her hands a couple times, catching the classes attention,

“We're going to the restaurant!, Lila, why don’t you lead the way? I’m sure it’s lovely!”

Marinette was sure it was going to be hell.

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PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF THE TAG LIST DIDN’T WORK!

Now, anyone wanna guess what Miraculous Chloe has? I tried to give hints! or does anyone want to try guessing who Testudo, Cheval Joli, and Byakko are? both have already been Miraculous holders, and the names will be expanded on!

If any one has any questions I’ll elaborate with as little spoilers as possible, Thank you all so much for your encouraging words and kind comments!

TAGLIST: @ aestheticnpoetic @ kitsunebell @ superbwhispersconnoisseur @ thewitchwhowaited @ junarvion @ liawinchester67 @ woe-is-me0 @ dorkus-minimus @ i-am-on-wattpad-2 @ atramentias @ togetherwekill @ ramos123 @ anjuschiffer @ thecc11andme @ poodapup @ mochegato @too0bsessedformyowngood

#Calm After the Storm #part 2 guys #oof #Maribat #bio dad bruce wayne #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous fanfic #miraculous ladybug #batfam #Richard Grayson #omg im so excited #please expec sporadic updates tho

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hoebii · 3 years

Text

Who

Pairing : Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre : Angst, light Fluff

Warnings : Cheating, grieving, past break up

Got inspired by the song ‘Who’ if you couldn’t tell sdaxhfvgf. Thank you @taegularities and @heejinnien for beta reading this and giving me pointers to make this better <3 This is the first fic that has been proof read and edited so we don’t die like men this time. As usual, send me any promts/ideas/requests you might have and I’ll try my best to do it justice. Feedback is always appreciated! :D

~~~~~~~~~~~

Our minds have new eyes and visions of you

Girl, I think I need a minute

To figure out what is, what isn't

The phone vibrated yet again, screen lighting up to display the caller ID. Yoongi decided to ignore it, head resting on his propped up hands.

There was a storm brewing inside his mind, and he didn’t know what to do anymore.

He knew the people around him were worried, saw the concern in their eyes every time he passed by and he hated it. He hated that he let it get this far, hated how uncertain he felt.

His mind couldn’t help but go back to the past, the memories coming back to haunt him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

These choices and voices,

they're all in my head

Sometimes you make me feel crazy

Sometimes, I swear I think you hate me like uh

I need a walk, I need a walk, I need to get out of here “I’ll always love you, no matter what the world throws at us.” She spoke sternly, her hands cupping his face. At that moment he felt like he was on the top of the world, his heart skipping a beat when his eyes met hers.

“You promise?”

“I promise, my love.” A scoff escaped Yoongi’s lips at the memory. “Bullshit,” he growled, gripping his hair, trying not to scream. “Why are you doing this?” He asked, tears streaming down his face as he stood by the door helplessly.

“I can’t keep doing this, Yoongi. I’m done,” she replied, continuing to pack her bags.

“We can fix this, please.” “No we can’t! Open your eyes Yoongi, there’s no fixing this anymore.”

He felt his heart shatter with each passing second as he stood there watching her. He moved towards her, grabbing her and pulling her in an embrace. He felt her stiffen at the contact but he refused to let go, heart racing.

“Please…” he whimpered.

She sighed, melting into his embrace after a while, wrapping her hands around him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what came over me.”

“It’s fine… just, don’t do that again.”

“I promise.”

For some reason, he couldn’t feel at ease even after that.

Yoongi slammed his hand down on the table, his breathing erratic. He grabbed his jacket and phone before walking out of his studio, where he saw the other boys standing about. He knew they were here for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment.

“Where are you going, hyung?” asked the maknae cautiously.

“For a walk, I need to clear my head.” Yoongi replied, brushing past his concerned members and out of the building.

~~~~~~~~~~~

'Cause I need to know

Who are you?

'Cause you're not the girl I fell in love with, baby

Who are you?

'Cause something has changed, you're not the same, I hate it

He rushed down the sidewalk, no destination in mind. His head was down, hood of his jacket up and his hands shoved inside his pockets.

He slowed down after some time, legs tired from walking for so long. Looking around to inspect his surroundings, Yoongi realised he had walked to the park near her house. The same park where they had their first date, the park where they came to look for peace when it all became too much. It held such precious memories, before when he looked back on those, his heart would swell with affection, body warm from happiness. But now, it did nothing except hurt him more. His heart ached as he relived the sweet memories that would always turn bitter.

“Look at those kids! They’re so cute!” She gushed, leaning against Yoongi, hands intertwined in her lap.

Yoongi chuckled as he watched the children run past them, laughter filling the air as they played around.

“I wonder how our children are gonna look? Well, then again, with parents like us they’re bound to be amazing!”

Yoongi hummed, playing with her fingers, heart picking up its pace at the thought of their possible future.

Yoongi sat on the bench overlooking the park. His eyes scanned the area, thinking about all the memories he had created here. His mind drifted off to the last time he’d been here, his heart constricting in pain.

He was waiting at the gate of the park, looking for her with flowers in her hand. His gummy smile impossible to hide, heart thrumming happily; it was their anniversary after all! He swayed back and forth, excitement barely kept under control when he thought about all the plans he’d made for them to enjoy the day.

15 minutes passed with still no sign of her. Yoongi checked his clock one more time before he called her again. Her phone rang a few times before it sent him to her voicemail yet again.

Feeling disappointment slowly take over his heart, he deflated a little.

Had she forgotten? She couldn’t have, right? Perhaps she’s stuck at work, thought Yoongi to himself. He shook his head before deciding to enter the park. Taking a walk might help, and who knows? Maybe she’ll arrive in that time too! He tried convincing himself, not wanting to lose hope just yet.

He walked by the little ice cream stand they had in the park when he thought he saw someone familiar stand near it. He squinted at the figure, their back was turned towards him. He shrugged and was about to walk away, to continue his walk through the park when the person turned around.

Yoongi’s eyes widened in shock when he saw his lover standing there, laughing with another man. He felt his heart turn to dust when he saw her lean up to kiss him.

“S-sweetheart?” Yoongi stuttered out loud, at which her head whipped around to face him, her expression akin to a deer caught in headlights, mouth falling open.

“Y-yoongi, I can explain.”

Yoongi shook his head, eyes filled with unshed tears. He dropped the flowers and ran away, paying no mind to her calls.

Yoongi leaned back on the bench, lips lifted into a bitter smile. One of his hands ran through his hair, ruffling it as he said out loud, “Should’ve realised before. Why did I ever believe you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, I'm sick of waiting for love, love

Oh, I know that you're not the one, one

Feeling hypnotized by the words that you said

Don't lie to me, just get in my head

When the morning comes, you're still in my bed

But it's so, so cold

It had been days since the incident at the park and Yoongi was a mess. He had kicked her out of his house the next day, but he couldn’t keep her out of his mind.

His friends told him to move on, that she wasn’t good for him, but he couldn’t. He needed answers.

He had finally gathered up enough courage to face her again, finally answering her calls, and calling her over. He told himself he wouldn’t let himself be swayed by her, that he was only doing this to get answers, nothing more.

But there he was now, laying awake beside her, staring off into space, mind once again in chaos. This wasn’t how he wanted the night to unravel, but her sweet words lured him in, hypnotized him. He was weak when it came to her, it didn’t surprise either of them that he had given in so easily.

Her sweet lies got into his head, making his mind fuzzy, heart beating fast as if this was the first time they had been together. But now that it was over, his mind was overthinking everything. It felt cold, his heart heavy with emotions he didn’t want to deal with.

He wanted to let go and savour this night, wanted to forget how his heart ached at the mere sight of her. But he felt so, so cold, so filthy and used. No matter how much he tried to suppress those feelings, he couldn’t, so he laid there, regretting everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Who are you?

'Cause you're not the girl I fell in love with

Who are you?

'Cause you're not the girl I fell in love with, baby

Who are you? (Who are you?)

'Cause something has changed, you're not the same, I hate it

Oh, I'm sick of waiting for love, love

Oh, I know that you're not the one, one

Yoongi sat there, his mind running a thousand miles per second. He had his eyes closed and head leaned back, trying to keep the tears at bay.

His thoughts came to a halt when he felt someone situate themselves beside him. He cracked one eye open to look at who it was.

His heart clenched again, this time from guilt, when he saw it was his dearest maknae that had come to him.

“Did you follow me here, Jungkook-ah?”

“I was worried… I didn’t want you to do something rash,” came a timid reply from the man beside him.

Yoongi chuckled, sitting up straight. “I’m not going to do anything rash, Jungkook. Don’t worry.”

“I’m still worried though, I miss you. You haven’t spent any time with us, with me, for such a long time now. You know we’re all here for you. It might hurt but keeping it all in won’t make it better, so let us help you, hyung. Let us be there for you,” Yoongi heard Jungkook say, concern pouring from each of his words.

Yoongi hummed, processing Jungkook’s words for a while.

“You’re right.”

“I… am?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi started, looking at Jungkook, “I shouldn’t have pushed you all away. I’m sorry for being so distant.”

“..Will you come back to the dorms then? It feels so empty without you.”

Yoongi stared at Jungkook, heart feeling a tad lighter than before. “Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

Jungkook looked at Yoongi, his doe eyes sparkling. “Do you feel any better? Do you want to go get food with me? I’ll pay!”

“Not really, it still hurts, but your little speech there made me realise I don’t have to do this alone. I have you guys and I’m sure that with you all by my side I’ll feel like the old me soon enough,” Yoongi said, ruffling Junkook’s hair - Jungkook whining at him for ruining his hair -, giving him a small smile. Jungkook beamed back, happy with the answer he’d received.

“Let’s go get lamb skewers, my treat, for ignoring you for this long,” Yoongi said, standing up from the bench. Jungkook exclaimed happily and started walking towards the park exit, smiling brightly.

Yoongi was about to follow when he felt his phone buzz again. Taking it out to check, he realised it was another text from her, but this time rather than ignoring it, he opened the text thread.

He quickly typed one last message to her before blocking the contact and following Jungkook out of the park. His first step towards healing and he couldn’t help but feel proud.

‘You’ve changed, you’re not the one for me anymore. Stop trying to contact me, Y/N. We’re over for good.’

#bts x reader #angst #bts angst #bts #bts yoongi #bts fanfic #bts fic #min yoongi #suga #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #bts fluff #myg #myg angst #yoongi angst #yoongi fanfic

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axolot-of-ideas · 3 years

Text

So! after 4 days of sleep deprieved editing and writing. and a computer crash! CONTENT. and if you see grammar errors, no you do not <3

block lore goes brrrrr

Bad flicked through the open tabs on his communicator, lost in thought. They've had an shortage on iron for a while and he decided to try and streamline their iron production for a bit. He had bits and pieces of what he needed and enough practice with admin magic to bridge the gap of what he needed. He ran over all the materials mentally again before a hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Hey Bad- I'm heading off-world now."

"Hmm- Oh yeah-," Bad mumbled trying to acknowledge the sheep hybrid as best he could, "Umm- is Drake heading with you?"

"Bad... Drake left yesterday-" Whisper said softly, "Are you sure you'll be okay? and when did you sleep last?-" Concern was intertwined in every word out of their lips.

"I'll be fine, Wisp- Go say hi to your friends. I can handle myself. And I'll rest after this." Bad said gesturing to the materials on the table in front of him, "I'll be fine, i promise." Sleepless lies dripped off his slurring words.

"Mkay-" Whisper said doubtfully believing him. In a flash of magic, they were gone.

<Whispered_Sleep left the world>

Bad sighed, as the tiredness hit him. When had he last slept? When was the last time he relaxed and let his body reset that wasn't a respawn?

He couldn't stop now. He couldn't be a burden. He had to be productive and contribute. Or Whisper and Drake might just leave and not find a reason to come back....

Shaking the thoughts from his head he mined down through their mineshaft until his pickaxe struck bedrock. He muttered something in a language he barely remembered as he hit the unbreakable rock.

He watched entranced with the miners as they lead him down the long underground tunnels. He just turned 16, old enough to contribute to the village, so the workers have taken to showing him around their jobs. He's taken a kin to most of the jobs but building and mining have always interested him the most. With a knack to technology and magic to boot, he landed himself a jack of all trades job. He mostly wandered about the sites and helping out where needed. He loved it. He could contribute to and help the place he lived now. He wasn't a burden anymore, he was a helper. He was Of Good Idelas, helper of his town and part of the village.

Bad collected the ashes from the bedrock, It pulsed with something different then normal.

Grains of Infinity, his communicator called it.

Gathering the rest of the materials was easy enough. Crafting each part and tugging against the world’s magic with his own admin magic he felt each part meld to each other.

It ached against his tired form, it twisted through unpracticed shaking hands. Steeling himself harder against the brunt of the new magic. It sparked uncomfortably, it was unlike the ones he was familiar with.

He felt a surge shoot through his body before he was blown back from the crafting table.

Bad coughed as he rolled from the bed he laid in. Ignoring the aches of the respawn and his dazed head, he raced back to where he was working.

A small crater where he once stood, a grave just as close. He picked up the finished generator at the seared crafting table, wincing at the hot newly formed metal.

The final piece of the machine he was building- He plopped it next to the sag mill and alloy smelter and slowly started connecting the power to them. Choosing to finish his job before getting his things from his grave.

He ignored the smell of burnt flesh and magic permeating the room. He ignored the thoughts swarming in his head. His memories were always harsh after he died.

The young man shot awake from his floor ridden cot to the sounds of shouts. He was a soldier now. Forced to the main kingdom for a war he never agreed to. Scrambling for his uniform he tried to ignore the memories of his village pushing him into the carriage just weeks before. He was a burden to them, not helping enough anymore. They abandoned him to the rich wolves looking for fresh blood to force to war. He was never good at fighting yet here he stood a sword getting shoved into his hands.

“-ot Of Idelas!” he heard his name be called from the general, shaking him from his thoughts. He wasn’t part of his village anymore, He wasn’t a 16 year old jack of all trades the townspeople all took a liking to anymore. He was an 18 year old solider fed into battle for being useless. The people part of the castle cared not for you. They cared for the swords you could swing, the hits you could take. And the blood you could shed.

He was just a townsperson Of Idelas. Another face in a war and he was abandoned for not being enough.

Bad groaned as he struggled to rewire the system again. He swore that the answer was right infront of him. But between the respawn and his shaking hands, he couldn’t manage to do it.

Raking his hand through his already messy hair, Bad stood up from his spot in front of the machines and generators. Glancing towards the window, he glared at the sun streaking towards the floor; A reminder of the time he never noticed passed. Turning towards the mess he created earlier, he jumped into the small crater and looked towards his grave.

Eyes wide and frozen to the spot, memories slammed into him like waves. His breath caught in against the silent sobs in his throat. His heartbeat grew heavier and harder in his chest, an all too real reminder of his time left.

Bad crumpled to floor.

His eyes shot open as he took his first breath in months. He awoke in a small crater, a creeper explosion if the plant remains were anything to go by. He shakily pushed himself up, trying to grasp onto the remains of his dream.

He was dead. He was supposed to be dead. He knew that, through all the haze in his head, He knew for a fact he was supposed to be dead.

Looking at the small destroyed grave stone, he glanced at his name.

“-f Bad Id-”

His name was Bad, and he was supposed to be dead.

He walked towards an abandoned house as he gripped what remained of him.

A destroyed mask, the small purple flower that laid in front of his grave and a decaying body.

Bad awoke to a small crater and a gravestone. Shakily pushing himself up, he gathered his items and began to fill in the hole. Lost in thought, Bad tried not to focus on the force of life weighing on him.

He raced through his still panicking thoughts.

His name is Bad.

He was alive.

He was in a magical world.

He had two people on this world. Drake and Wisp.

He loved them

His name was Bad.

He came from a world of stone with Drake and Wisp.

He knew magic, technology, and how to survive.

He was working on producing more iron.

His name is Bad.

He was at home.

He was alive.

He was breathing.

He is alive.

He is breathing.

He just respawned.

His name is Bad.

He couldn’t remember his past or why he named himself.

Maybe it’s because that’s all he remembers from his life.

Maybe because that’s what he found written on his gravestone.

Maybe it’s because he only views himself as that.

Or maybe it’s because he learned what being called Bad meant in the language he once spoke, and thats all he thought of himself as.

His name was Bad and he was dead.

He is dying again.

His name was Bad

And He is Dead.

His connection to this world was fading

His name was Bad.

And soon he would have to leave the people he loved.

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alias-b · 4 years

Text

sins of my youth. 015

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: I was excited to post this one! Billy continues to learn secrets about Evie as they grow closer. The first day back to school arrives with new challenges. TW: talk of teacher/student relationship, vomiting, pica, bullying, and some Well Earned Smut. *Thanks all and chat with me about the fic if you have time!

Chapter 15: Fires Within Fires

Billy decided he liked unwrapping these layers to Evie, despite the fucking interruptions.

Their little game of back and forth where even grazing her skin with his fingertips felt like a prize.

Where a glimpse of her smile's ghost sent luna moths fluttering inside the glass jar that he'd long-sealed his beating heart away into.

He certainly couldn't tell her she'd consumed him. Syllables became harder around Evie. No amount of cooing at his mirror would save him from those painted eyes. Brushstrokes that destroyed him utterly.

And all he could think was brush me again.

The greatest mystery presented itself that Saturday night.

Mona stayed out with friends and went home with something a little more chiseled. Which meant she’d be out and go straight to the salon to play with the books. Blue was fed. The stars were bright and silent. Placed just so.

Evie applied a red lip, bent over the vanity before it reached eleven on the dot. With her mother out, she used the front door after grasping her coat. Green bomber covered in patches. Crept over the frozen grass and pavement toward a hippy sort of van. Tan with a maroon stripe.

Billy crawled out his window at the sight of her along the way. Dressed. Head down as he hid near his car.

He had to know.

The van was already driving off so Billy waited a bit to follow behind it. Hoped the few cars on the road would mask him if he stayed far enough away.

He trailed after the damn thing all the way to the city. Saw it still in an alleyway and swerved to find parking elsewhere. Waited a few minutes with his eyes on the rearview mirror to see lights flicker.

Beyond the cold buildings, a cozy nightclub illuminated. Covered in trellises with twisted metalwork roses and thorny vines. Slicked in frost. A red, ornate canopy and steel black gate lining the outside area with empty tables.

Music vibrated within. Billy lit up a cigarette and watched the door. Eyed a bouncer chatting it up with a group outside in the cold. Smoking and shooting the shit. He readied to make his move.

The sign read Sugar Kane’s in swirling lights.

Boots carefully stepped around the alley. Eyes trained on the bouncer at the end of the street corner. A thrum of piano keys echoed. Billy slipped into the door, down an immediate tunnel of high steps into another world made of pure red velvet.

Wall to wall velour curtains and uniform lines of crystalline lights. Felt like Billy stepped into a dim, smoky dream. Busy round tables with idle chatter and even a bit of friendly gambling. A dance floor with plenty of couples. Sleek black bar and mirrors behind it.

Taste and class and care went into this dream.

Billy fell into a table in the back, darkest corner. Watched the slow dancing. Heels clicked. More people drank and smoked at tables. Playing cards and speaking in hushed tones under the music.

The music.

As couples swayed and parted, Billy’s eyes lifted to the band. Bass, drums, and keyboard. And the singer looking like a chandelier painted red like the walls. Red like the blood boiling and pounding under his flesh.

Slow and steady, a pure blue light bathed. Made her the center of the universe. Let her slip into a warm bubble bath birthed of the cosmos itself. Billy had to scan her again. Had to blink to make sure he was seeing this correctly.

Sleek dress of beads like what a flapper would wear. Glossy red lips sultry into the mic. Huge lashes. Bigger curls.

Evie.

Her hips moved against the swell of sound. Breathing in and out with it. Stage lights framed her body. Kissed it. Made her glimmer as an ethereal creature. Not of this world.

Billy’s jaw was on the table.

“This is a man's world,” she cooed, head shaking while brown eyes fluttered closed, “this is a man's world…”

Billy’s fingers twisted into the tablecloth. Eyes trained as her voice picked up against the reverberations. Filled the air. Filled the empty spaces around Billy. He’d heard her sing, but this starlet wasn’t the delicate songbird she came off as. She owned the air. The space. The stars. The world at her feet.

She owned everything. She wasn't sorry.

“But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl.” Evie plucked up the mic to come forward. Smiling when hands dropped dollars into a bowl she shared with the band. Her voice grew. Boomed. Curled around throats and hearts.

Enthralled.

That stage was where she belonged and she wasn’t sorry about that either.

Bathed in the echoing ruby glow from seas of crimson velvet and black silk around the room. Spotlight pulsing technicolor. Painting in blues and pinks and reds. Utterly decadent. Small chandeliers hung down to sparkle against cherry hardwood that met the vibration of a musical crescendo.

Evie’s dress flicked about as she moved. Tiny knit shadowy fishnets and strappy heels. Miniature white flowers woven into her free spun curls that truly made her look like an angel. A glowy star. The light caught a collared necklace she’d made with a cameo brooch and loose jewels.

Again and again, Billy let himself be consumed. Bowed to her voice ever-growing. These untouchable notes that wrung around his soul.

“But it wouldn't be nothing!” Evie’s head tipped back. “Nothing!” Mic high with the greatest note that stilled the entire room as the music hushed so she could shine. Obscene and shameless and so bright. Eyes lifted from tables to see her there beckoning like the sirens of old. Evie came down to look out, settled the mic on its stand. Romanced it. “...without a woman or a girl…”

Billy sat there and watched the set. Eyes all over Evie without her knowing. Blissfully unaware of the boy in shadows. He smoked a slow cigarette and no one from the bar bothered him. Not yet.

Evie was five songs in before they switched it up. Let the band take on some peppier instrumental so Evie left to cross to the bar. Billy thought to flee before a huge hand touched his shoulder.

“You look a little young to be in here. Not drinking. Where’s your ID, kid?”

“Hey, I’m eighteen.” Billy sounded childish, snuffing a cigarette out on a clean ashtray. The bouncer glared down at him. Bodybuilder type and pretty. Tanned with styled slick hair and little strands tumbling into his brow. Blue eyes. One ear framed in silver piercings. “Just listening to the girl, she...she knows me.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go, stalker. She's working.” The bouncer cooly plucked Billy up like he was a doll. Catching the attention of the bar as they stumbled toward it.

Evie reeled out of her conversation before Billy Hargrove was presented to her. One shoulder high into the air as a muscled hand held his arm.

“Does this belong to you, Eve?” He began, giving Billy a jostle for good measure.

“Oh, god.”

Billy flashed his brightest smile. Begged to be claimed like a little, lost puppy. Poor Evie could only groan. Elbows on the sleek wood to hide her face. The woman she’d been speaking with behind the bar was already cackling. “Yes...he’s mine.”

“Is this the boy you won’t shut up about?” Came a quip. Gravelly, feminine voice.

“Told you, I know her. Lemme go, Lurch.” Billy ripped himself clean from the bouncer. Fixed his jacket.

“Marlon, baby, we got him from here.” The barkeep continued, bringing one acrylic nail to her plump lips. Dolled to the gods in a Marilyn Monroe type wig of platinum, buttercream waves that swooped to frame her face and touched her glowing shoulders. Sapphire cocktail dress cinched in and flowed to knee length. Matching heels that made her a head taller than Billy.

“Whatever you say, honeybunch.” Marlon gruffed and went back to go up the steps. Evie shoved at Billy and grabbed his jacket.

“What are you doing here?” Her classic hiss.

“I wanted to know where you snuck off to two nights a week. Just a concerned neighbor.”

“Sometimes three when we have the stage open.” A hand adorned in a huge diamond ring extended. “Looks like James Dean and Jim Morrison had a blond baby boy. Little Eros crawled out of a Def Leppard video.”

“Billy.” He shrugged out of Evie’s grip. Left her making that signature scrunchy face of anger she was known for. Arms crossed at him. Pride rose so he boasted. Took the bejeweled hand in both of his to kiss the knuckles smelling of jasmine. “Evie’s favorite subject.”

“Are not.” The retort clipped.

“Don’t tell lies, Evie dearest, they cause wrinkles.” A wink of huge false lashes followed. “Iris Lee Arden. I manage the place for the owners. Evie’s never brought us a pretty stray before.” She gave Billy’s chin an affectionate brush. Nails painted to silver claws.

Iris moved like a feline. A trans woman with brown skin and a full figure. Thirties. Commanding presence. Love of Marilyn Monroe with roots in the art of drag. Billy spotted a sign behind her about the specials. Chalked in different colors. A variety of musical stylings. Another sign about the shows nightly. Thursday being drag night.

One of those open places he figured. Accepting of all colors and sexualities. Safe haven to outcasts. California had them too. Seemed more of a rarity in this area. Double the bouncers of the places back home.

“Evie’s telling people about me, huh?” Billy leaned into the bar to play the flirt. Evie’s hand covered his mouth.

“Ignore him. He should not be here. I’m sorry.”

“Says you who lied about your age for the job, sugar.” Iris teased, eyes flicking to Billy. “We found out like the day after. Obviously.”

“I was in it for the free booze.” Evie beamed a smile, hand snatching from Billy when he licked her finger. “Gross.” The pink tongue caught between his teeth before he grinned.

“Uh. Nice try. I don’t even drink the alcohol for free, girl. And the only thing we ever give you free is a Shirley Temple.” Iris laughed again. “I’ll get two going while you lovebirds work things out.”

“We’re not, ugh…” Evie rolled her eyes and decided to sit. Huffed for effect. “So, you got me.”

“I always do." His dangling earring caught the light. "Not a bad place. You ever sing on Thursday?”

“No, but I did host a couple of shows for Iris. The girls love me and I love them. They taught me plenty. Helped me. And I...learned a lot about myself too.” Evie kicked a stool out so he’d join her. Paused to see his expression. Her lips quivered. "Would it bother you if I think about girls and boys the same?"

"Did it bother you when I flirted with that Jesse guy right in front of you? More in common, Angel. It's adding up." Billy held her eyes steady when he said that. They shared this softer beat. Simple and clean. Plenty of room to breathe. He shifted, lashes batting. "So, this place. Start from the top."

“I was sixteen and I saw flyers so...I sorta lied about my age. No one knows. Not Heather, not even Fredrick. They found out I lied quickly. But, they liked me so we worked out some rules and I just sing a few nights with the band. Couple songs. Great guys, too. The Starlighters. They’re here almost 24/7. Marvin on bass, he drives so they pick me up on the way most days. I have to hide in back, I don’t want to get them in trouble. Cops will treat them differently cause they're not white. Always been that way.”

Billy noticed most of the people in here, including the workers and band, were people of color easily. Many mixed like Evie.

Opposite of Hawkins. She and Tommy H were practically the only mixed kids in their classes since his birth mother was Hispanic. Strange thing neither of them addressed in the open.

“The club runs all sorts of music. Jazz, rock, classics, and some pop. I like the more rock and pop nights cause I can bring my guitar. Sometimes I help back up visiting bands. This place just appreciates it all. I love it here and I can sing anything they need, it's like a second home. Accepting. Good for people who get the fuzzy end of the lollipop.” She shrugged and two bubbly glasses were set down. “Thank you, Iris.”

“Owners have more musicians coming in toward spring so hours for you will be slim. Summer should be better, they might have some more day and evening gigs.” Iris perked a smile.

“I get it. Easier to work during the day when I turn eighteen.” Evie sipped. "The best birthday present of all is more of that stage."

“It's happy to have you, sugar. So, tell me, Billy, have you locked this girl down?” Iris plucked up a clipboard to make some inventory notes, elbow on the bar.

“Hey!”

“I’m working hard on it,” Billy winked and that was enough to silence Evie.

“She also told me you’re the one who took care of the shithead who gave her that,” Iris tilted Evie’s face. "Boy is lucky I couldn't sink my talons into his eye sockets. Sick my guys and dolls on him." Billy barely caught the bruises under layers of color corrector and makeup. “Good boy.”

“I do what I can.” He shrugged and played with the straw of his drink. Evie could have blamed her blush on stage lights. Instead, she stole a sip when Iris offered a fresh glass of water.

“I’m gonna go sing.” She pushed Billy’s arm. “He’s a compulsive liar. Don't listen to him.”

“Don’t worry, Eve, I’ll babysit the pretty boy. Make him feel right at home. It's what I do.” Another wink and Evie groaned all the way to the stage. Rejoined the band with a red smile. Sparkling. Garnered a few claps and nodded to pick up the next song. Beaming.

She found Billy's eyes for one fleeting moment.

"The French are glad to die for love..."

“She’s gonna go far, that one." Iris caught his attention. "Just needs a chance is all. Someone bigger than me to give it.”

Billy’s eyes were glued to the ruby supernova whirling and bursting before his gaze. Felt the vibrations inside his ribs. Again and again.

“You take the stage too?”

“Oh, yes. Never too late. Prefer to manage these days. Guide others starting out. Lots of queens and questioning tweens in the city in need of a place. I like to give them one. Outcasts who need to learn they're not alone in this big world. I've had plenty of success and now I have dreams of managing one great star.”

“My dad would hate all this.” Billy piped up aimlessly, head shaking.

“More of us than of him, if you believe it. Just have to speak up. Scream it out.” Iris cleaned a couple of empty glasses. “You’re pretty. You could do drag, you know?”

“Thanks.” Billy broke to chuckle, eyes turned back at last.

“Don’t hurt my girl either.” One long nail pointed. A talon that tapped Billy’s chin. “We’ll take you out back and smack you around a bit.”

“Maybe I’m into that, lady.” Billy flirted back. His insufferable self. The pretense lowered. “Already hurt Evie. Trying not to do it again.”

“You’re young. So is she. You both will fuck up, that's life. Sometimes people hurt more when they're comfortable. Just make it right.” Iris had offered, arms back in the bar to sigh.

“Sometimes I don’t know how to do that,” Billy blinked his gorgeous eyes, “make it right, I mean.”

“Watch. Listen. Learn.” She cooed softer. “It’ll do you good. Be a gentleman too, offer my girl a ride home when her set is over. Short night. I assume you’re staying?”

“Yeah…” Breathless, he marveled. “Yeah, I’m staying if she is.”

Evie had a few more songs before the mic was turned over. Something sinking every single time she had to see it go. They split tips and she parted ways for the night. Offered the shortest hours of all the workers being so young. Schooling first, Iris always said.

Bundled in a jacket, Evie pushed through some beads and curtains to see Billy waiting. Head cocking toward the exit.

“You stayed.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Drove all the way here.” He lit up a smoke outside, having not had many during the set. Music lingered behind them. Echoed along the cool winds and wet pavement. “Free show and all the Shirley Temples I could suck up. I did tip, by the way. All the pretty people I could flirt with and brag about my girl to. What a night.”

He slung a lazy arm around Evie’s shoulders. Not looking at her. His girl. Smoke flitting out his lips and Evie lost all her thoughts. Lost the nerve to tell him he was so beautiful. That she could be his. He shifted closer to her and peered at his watch, trapping Evie into his chest.

“Damn, it's just after two.”

“Couple times I stayed till four.” She lamented. “Guess I should be happy they have room at all even if it’s once a week these days. Iris is good to me, I’m loyal… What did you guys talk about?”

“How pretty the stars are at night.” He mused, snuffing his cigarette out onto a brick wall before he paced to the car waiting. Evie slid in wordlessly, sighed when Billy got the heat on before she buckled.

She also noticed he did it too for the first time since riding with him.

“Usually I’m wired after shows but I’m dead tired tonight,” she rubbed her head to moan, leaning back.

“You had a long week.” Was all Billy said, swerving down the street to the freeway.

This heavy silence hung in the air. Billy intent on the road. Idle glances that never matched up. Finally, he peered over and saw Evie’s head lulled aside. Fast asleep.

A smirk crept.

He turned some easy music on. Let her rest all the way to Hawkins and parked at his house. Turned slowly and brought his knuckles up against the apple of Evie’s cheek. He felt her shift into his touch and reeled back. Evie seized up, groaned to see him.

“We’re back.” He whispered. Not sure why.

“Hm, sorry. Dozed off there.” Evie felt for the handle. Also felt Billy’s eyes on her skull. She froze and blinked to see him. “You want to come inside?”

“Easier than sneaking into my place. Dad’s a heavy sleeper, but he has Billy Fuck-Up Radar.” He laughed and she didn’t, pushing out. Evie staggered in her heels, holding herself so Billy crossed around in silence. They went up into her house.

“Gonna...bathroom. Wash my face off ‘n change.” She had this sleepy adorable way about that, petting Blue idly. Already tugging little clips from her curls.

Billy came to give the cat some attention. Heard the sink running and crossed back to Evie’s room. Tucked his boots and coat aside. Sprang at attention when she came in wearing a long tee and cradling a bundle of clothing. Curls free and messy. The slightest smear of black makeup still under her eyes but the rest of the paint came off leaving her fresh-faced and glowy.

“Need to use it?” She gestured behind her and stepped aside, depositing her laundry properly. Blue eyes lingered before he went off. Wordless.

Evie let out the breath she’d been holding to sit on the bed. Back taut when Billy returned so she stood awkwardly. A quick movement that made him stop. Created a standoff. Eyes held steady. Expectant. She bit her lip and clicked the light out.

Somehow that made him feel safer to cross. Careful steps like he was approaching a skittish nymph. Stood inches away. Evie let herself cave in.

“Can I undress you?”

The words blurted.

Billy didn't hesitate.

“All yours.” He watched her too pointedly so Evie looked aside. Reached to lift his shirt until he adjusted to get out of it. She got a look finally at the nasty red and purple welts on his shoulder. Healing yellow tinge. Clouds shifting.

Visible from the moon and streetlamps outside flitting through the blinds. A hand hovered but didn’t touch and he just went rigid there. Let her look at him. Let her see every inch. The color splashed over his shoulder like spilled paint.

“Can I kiss you there?”

“Only once.” He said so she swept over. Placed her lips on the flesh that was burning hot. Pecked too light and came out to see Billy’s eyes close. They opened and she reached for his belt. Clicked to get it off before unbuttoning his pants. Billy hitched to shudder when she brushed him, easing his pants down over white briefs.

Slowly, Evie brought a finger to her lips. Tapped once and Billy obeyed. Claimed them without ceremony. Pushed into her body until they tangled back in bed. Adjusting so he could hover.

Aroused into a creamy thigh, Billy rocked easily between parting legs. Nestled there and heard her moan. Drowsy kisses as her hands slipped around his back. One arm braced by her head, fingers smoothed the curls aside.

“Can I look?” He uttered, hand inching under her shirt. Gazes locked. A pulsing beat.

“Yeah.” Evie let her hands fall into the mattress. Billy pushed fabric up over her chubby stomach and naked breasts. Traced her flesh without shame and she felt it all melting away. Piles of insecurities shedding to drop like little weights hanging from her heart. Brown eyes lifted elsewhere. A quiet shiver followed.

Her chest rose and fell. Evie tried to stay alert and locked into him, but the sensation returned that sunk her down.

“Billy," she squeaked to still him, "I-I do want you.”

That broad hand palmed her side.

“If you’re unsure, Angel, it’s a no.” He shrugged. “It’s okay. You’re tired. Doesn’t hurt my pride.” Eyes lingered on her face. Evie still felt so exposed there. Billy’s thumb rubbed a hot circle into her skin. He chuckled before pecking those waiting lips with ease.

“We could...I still want to… Do things.” Evie shuddered, swallowing to find the words. “Warm-up. Start slow. Small.”

“Little things you dream of me doing to you.” He leaned in again to taunt. Hips pushed into hers. “Wet your panties already.”

“Please, you leaked all...over me…” Evie lost the exact jab while he kissed up her neck. Tongue and teeth. His hand inched. Ever so slightly. She touched his knuckles, guided him higher to cup her breast. Billy moaned at that alone. Twitched like he might burst and wasted no time getting his tongue on her nipples.

“Taste better than I dreamt, that’s for damn sure.” He ran his nose over her sternum. Tormented her other breast. Let his teeth tug once. Twice.

Suckles until she bucked into him. Head tossed back to moan. Fingers curled into spun gold. Coaxed him onward. Billy kissed her all over. Tummy and back up again. Shifting, he moved over to straddle one leg, nudged her thighs to stay parted.

“Wanna spread you open,” lips ghosted, “touch you.” Brush you again and again.

Evie had his arm in her grip. Felt like two irons clinging. Slowly, she nodded, eyes huge and darting over his there in the dim light.

“I want to feel good again, Billy.” She gulped dry air. “Want you to make me feel good.”

He took in her expression. Pleading and vulnerable. Unafraid to want him in the open. Fingers rolled over her hard nipple and then slipped down under flimsy fabric he wished he could tear. Contained himself just barely at the feel of her. Soaked for him. Responsive to every little beat and sigh. Pride set fire to his marrow. Two fingers pushed up into the bud, coated in arousal to stroke it.

"Like that?" He teased slow. Her mouth opened for his tongue in response.

Evie grasped desperately at the pillow under her head. Legs opened so he got off to curl next to her. Braced his head up with one propped elbow and offered lazy rubs. Drew it out until her thighs hitched to part wide.

“Hear that fucking sound you make?” Billy’s lips touched her ear. “Fuck.” He whimpered like she was the hottest thing on two legs. Made her feel coveted and sexy. Desirable. Slick sounds mingled with their breathing hurried. “I could listen to it all day and get off on that alone, you know. Musical girl. I could play you all night.”

He kept kissing her, rendering Evie unable to articulate. Wanting him in little breathy sounds.

Fucking wanting him.

Evie twisted, hitching a gasp as her toes curled. Thighs parting wider because Billy was some sort of fucking wizard at this. This boy couldn't be real. Eliciting perfect notes out of her. One hand gripped the pillow under her head while the other clung to his bicep now. She felt the muscles bulge white-hot and loved it. Heard Billy breathing soft in her ear, lips trailing down her jawline and collar.

“You’re so wet.” Billy brought his fingers up to lick them. Pushed his tongue into her mouth after. “Taste so fucking good.” Evie yelped as he slapped her thigh playfully. The words slurred into her lips. He slipped his hand back into her panties, played rougher, and felt her tense. Evie’s lips opened into his to moan. Her legs bent up and spread for him. Bucking to meet his touch that was ending her. “Shameless, Evie, I like it.”

“You talk too much.” She had gasped, eyes rolling to shut. Breast jutting so he kissed them next.

“I don’t think people talk enough during the act.” Billy curled back into her. Supporting himself on one arm by her head. “Nothing like seeing a pretty girl’s face when I tell her she’s gonna come so hard for me.” She felt his shaft against her side, rubbing idly to make some friction. Leaking and wet. "So very hard."

Billy liked to play dirty, it kept his emotions at a safe distance.

Evie caved in.

“More… Faster, Billy.” She clung for him. Neck exposed. Pulsing. Lips parting obscenely. "More."

A finger pushed inside with another following.

“Oh, fuck.” Evie worked into his touch. Brown eyes finding his intent ones. Billy thumbed her clit in tune. Pumped a few times. Watched her chest rise and fall in shaky breaths. The shirt still bunched over her tits. Lips fell to suckle one rosy nipple then the other.

“Too much, Angel?” Billy slipped out to resume circling the bud. He hummed, slowing to inhale deep before he granted her another taste of his lips.

“Don’t stop, I like it.” Evie whimpered into his mouth. Caught his bottom lip in her teeth playfully.

“Couldn’t tell.” Billy sped up again. “Wanna see you come for me.”

“Billy.” Evie twisted at that. Thrusting herself into him. Breasts bouncing.

Slick, filthy sounds filled the room. The damn streetlamps glimmered around the curtains. Gave her almost no place to hide from him. Something churned in her stomach. Alert.

“I’m close.” She strained at last. "I'm so..."

“I know,” he grazed their lips to murmur, “just chase it. Don’t run, Angel. That’s it. Chase it for me.” He watched her expression flutter and cloud. Loved it. Worked her relentlessly.

Nails dug into his skin. Out of breath and bucking until her body gave a little quake. A moan followed. Drawing out with her climax. Billy rubbed her until she fell to pieces. Crying out and shuddering. All for him. Back curved to echo sweet delights. He didn’t stop until she fell limp and quivering by the force. With Evie spent, he pushed up to reach into his briefs. Slicked his shaft in her arousal. Began to pump.

“Lemme see you.” She slurred, turning over to tug his underwear down. God, he was beautiful. Lines cut down his hips. Trimmed gold curls. She bit her lip again and wasn’t coy for once.

“You mind?” A suggestive eyebrow rose.

"If I can help." She pushed up more with heavily hooded eyes. Drunken. Messy kisses trailed his abs before she licked his tip.

“You just go for it, huh?” Billy added. Allowed her to swallow him down. “Fuck, that mouth you have, Evie.” He bucked into her throat. Tried to apologize when she made a sound that was utterly pornographic. Heavy cologne wafted up her nose. A trail of spit ran from flesh to lips as she came out. Lapping again. Sinking down so he could pump. She gripped his hips and worshipped him. "You don't...You don't have to..."

"I like it when you feel good. You're so beautiful." Evie dipped out. Let Billy tilt her head up by the hair. Thumb slicking her swollen mouth. Billy curved to dip his tongue in. Groaned when she kept stroking. "Feels good to give pleasure. We have that in common, Billy."

His spine arched. Muscles taut because her lips were on him again.

"You look like a star, you know that?" Billy had to peer away. Sighing soft. Shuddering. She didn't lie about being skilled at this. Evie placed little kisses up and down. Slowed. He didn't have time to continue the praise.

“Where do you want to cum?” She resumed stroking him. Kissed shapes around his hips sweetly. Billy tried to articulate and gasped as her teeth nipped along his skin.

“You’re asking me? Shit...You won’t like it.” He tried to not blow it all on her face. Felt like that might be rude. Billy shuddered again. “On your tits.”

“Hm.” Evie reclined back, let him scoot in and helped him stroke himself. Being dirty also assisted in keeping her emotions and insecurity at bay. She worked him with her slick hand. Felt him starting to lock.

“Listen, I’m not gonna last much...longer.” He was thrusting into their palms. Leaned over her to grasp the pillows so she could finish him herself.

“It’s okay. Just let go, Billy. It'll feel so good when you do.” Tease.

“Fuck, Evie, fuck.” Billy looked exquisite. Vulnerable. Eyes glittering with pleasure. Whining. Lips opened to groan. She worked him until release gushed. Milky spurts right across her chest. Billy swallowed for some air, looked down at her. Messy and fucked out. Shirt bunched up with his filth all over her skin. Puffed.

“Don’t get mad, but I thought about that the first time I saw you.” He twisted one nipple, heard her hitch to sigh. Evie fell back with a huff.

“Yeah, you made that obvious.” She felt Billy sweep up some release with two fingers and offer it to her lips. Sucked him clean, peering through thick lashes. Evie laced their fingers and let a slow smile pull. “I enjoy you, Billy.”

“Yeah?” He fell next to her. Nestled in so their curls mixed. “Only took you a couple of months and an orgasm to admit it.”

“Shut it… I want you. Not trying to countdown to it like it’s some rocketship.” She pushed over him and felt under the bed for a dirty shirt to wipe off with. “That’s all I’m saying. Foreplay is one thing. Sex always changes people. Maybe I'm...freaked about that.”

“I enjoy you, too.” He admitted to the dark. Eyes lifting to the ceiling before she tucked herself back in between him and the wall. “We could get a motel room sometime. Make sure no one walks in for once. We'll be wide awake and go a few rounds. And I won't change on you.”

“Hmm.” She turned to muffle into his chest. Drowsy as can be. “Sure.”

“Really?” Didn’t expect a quick reply. “Not gonna take it back when the glow wears off?”

“Maybe.” Evie teased, grinning into Billy’s skin. “You make me mad sometimes. Still want to go slow like this.” He chuckled with little air, chest steady until he adjusted so she could cuddle into him. Evie traced a heart into his flesh. Caught herself. “Can I have a ride Monday? I think Steve will understand… I’m just freaked out about going in.”

A hand pushed her hair aside so they could look at each other. Billy played with lush curls. Got serious.

“He's not gonna be there.”

“I know.” Evie hummed with her eyes closing. Fingers in her hair lulled her further. “Sometimes I think I see him standing in dark corners. Even when I’m on stage. There’s this glimmer of him everywhere. Especially as I close my eyes.”

Billy didn’t know what to say so he kissed her until she was breathless and distracted. They shifted around so Evie faced the wall, pulling his arm over. Thrilled him to pieces. Billy framed her body with his, lips melting into dark curls. Sweet blessings placed upon her crown. A protective barrier he hoped soothed her.

He really hoped.

The blankets pulled up so they twisted together. No more syllables followed until the morning birds began to sing.

** ** **

Monday crept to swallow Evangeline whole.

She donned a vintage plaid dress that was cinched with a belt and short. Threw her bomber over it and fashionable black tights. Knew she was dressing for Fredrick even still. Her little outfits pieced together so he could imagine taking them apart in class. Earrings caught the light as she swung her bag on and crept outside into the morning windchill. Didn’t want to keep Billy and Max waiting.

Just in time, they stalked out of the Hargrove house. This knowing smile crossed Max’s face when she saw Evie.

“So, you’re hanging out with Billy again.” Came the monotone observation.

“Back seat.” He snapped at her. Evie’s lip twitched before a little nod followed and the redhead disappeared into the back. Snapping the seat in place for Evie to take. Without ceremony, the Camaro lurched forward to go. Billy fiddling with his radio and cursing all the hick stations until he found one at Evie's quiet recommendation.

“Is Evie your girlfriend now?” Max was leaning between them.

“I’ll pull over, I swear to god, Max.” He lifted his eyes with an aggravated breath, turning hard after the stoplight changed. Max snickered and Evie wanted to laugh, but didn’t. Eyes darting at the many trees they passed until they began to blur. A sea of earthy tones and pure white frost pooling. Almost looked like chaotic, muddy ocean waves. Crashing.

Sensing the nerves, Billy’s hand found her knee. Stayed there until they got to school. Thumb smoothing.

“See you two later.” Chipper for once in the morning, Mad Max jumped out after them and raced down the hill to meet Dustin waving across the way. Evie huffed as he looked between Billy and her then asked Max an obvious question out of earshot.

Students moved all around them. Many pausing to glance at Evie Fenny appearing from the magical blue of Billy Hargrove's legendary Camaro. She didn't belong there. One hot orgasm wouldn't change that. Fingers curled into her bag’s strap. Nervously twisting it.

“He’s not gonna be in there and you won’t feel better until you face it.” Billy finished his cigarette against the hood. Eyes pointed.

“We could just skip.” Evie looked around at passing students and Billy came to her side.

“You do know how to tempt me. C’mon.” An arm swept around her shoulders. Nearby students took more frantic notes as they got down the hill so Evie wiggled from him. Kept walking and felt sick by the time they got to her locker.

“People are staring at us.” She faced inside and sorted books. Billy leaned next to her. Eyes flickering with this unreadable expression.

“I didn’t notice.”

Evie gave him this glance like she didn’t believe him.

"I don't care." Came the actual sentiment.

“I have to get to calc.” Evie dismissively shut the metal door and gasped when he kissed her. Right there in front of everyone. Billy cupping her cheeks. Making a point in his way. Cartoon confetti tumbling down. Students watched Evie stumble into the lockers. Billy Hargrove’s arm steady around her back. Pulling her into his body as if he wanted her and only her and nothing else existed.

“Clear enough, Angel?” He pulled out. Left her breathless. Unworried and wishing it was enough to unbind her nerves. A thumb fixed her lipstick idly. “See you in English. Don’t run.” Billy swept off. Students parting to let their king by. Evie shuddered to herself and hunched to hurry in the opposite direction. Cheeks burning.

Brush me again.

She didn’t learn much in her first period. Heather met her at the door and kept glancing the entire class. Carol and Tommy both skipped. That should have brought Evie some ease. Instead, she figured she might blow chunks.

The first bell had her springing up. Not even waiting for Heather as she disappeared into crowds. Shoving a bathroom door open so she could throw up her breakfast. Two eggs arranged with wheat toast. Mona had spent the entire time prattling about some man she was seeing as if Evie were her best friend and therapist and not a soul she gave birth to.

Evie so often wondered if her mother had wanted her. Really wanted her. This life that stilled all her starlight, electric dreams. And not treated birth as a duty because these things can happen.

Luck was not on her side. Evie had passed Carol in there with a couple of other girls in her gaggle's orbit. Smoking and late to class. Too cool for it either way.

Bile and food exploded into the toilet bowl. A twisted clothing pin that was stuck somewhere it shouldn't have been came up too. Evie swallowed that a good while ago. Spots of blood pricked.

“Gross, Fenny, didn’t know you were that type.” Vicki sneered outside at the sound. Snickering followed. “Two fingers are better than one, precious. I hope you give Billy’s dick better treatment.” Footsteps followed and Evie didn’t have time to be mortified. She figured they all left and gasped. Spotted a loose bolt in the wall.

Evie propped her head up and fumbled to unscrew it.

Heard voices that told her to stop. Just stop. She can stop. She can stop this at any time.

There rust.

It went down and Evie felt that sickly wave of calm wash. Rocked back to a distant shore and wiped her mouth on a wad of thin toilet paper. Felt disgusting. Gave her cheek a soft pat like a baby. Breathe. Breathe. Feet staggered out with her backpack to see Carol sitting on the farthest sink like it was a throne. Smoking still and far too elated.

Shame sunk its talons into Evie like Carol watched the entire thing play out.

Unable to even rasp, she went to the sink and washed out her mouth.

“Not preggers are you?” Smoke pooled up.

“Just sick.” Evie bit back, hands braced over the sink.

“About the party,” Carol continued, not listening as she snuffed out her cig against the mirror's corner, “I was so drunk. Don’t take it personally.”

“Fine.”

“I just think it’s a fresh start today. New leaves. Right?” Carol dug around as Evie shuddered and tried to reapply her lipstick. The redhead approached. “Here.”

A stick of bubblegum flicked out. Evie eyed it suspiciously and Carol actually smiled. Glossy lips curling before she chewed her own piece. Blew a plush pink bubble for good measure.

It popped.

“Nothing funny. You need to work on those trust issues. Especially if you’re gonna hang with Billy. He gets around." Her head cocked. "Don't mind Vicki, by the way, Billy sorta dropped her unexpectedly. Hm. She was hoping to take him all the way to prom and only got one taste at Lover's Lake. Poor thing.”

Carefully, Evie took it. Let the sweet flavor fill her rustic mouth. Didn’t mask enough.

“Thanks…”

“Anytime.” Carol went to the door and stopped. Lips smacked. Couldn't hold it in any longer and let the glee flow. Red hair flicked. “So how does it work, you and Bowers, is it a grade thing? Are you just easy? I’m so curious because he seems like a guy who could get anyone. Billy, too. So, why you, Evie?"

The question that kept Evangeline up at night haunted the air. Carol grew relentless.

"Are you a witch of some kind? Could be comparing the young and old. Gross. Maybe you work well on your knees. I’d love some tips.”

Evie stared at the sink. Heard the bell blare signaling she was late. A deafening silence followed.

“I don’t…” She peered at Carol crossing her arms to smile. The gum went sour. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know if I’m grossed out or impressed, Evie,” Carol faked a look of shock, “you really suck off our teacher. I mean, how pathetic do you have to be?” A nasty, faux scoff followed.

"As if you weren't leaning over his desk to press your tits against his back and hiking your skirts up all the same." Evie shot up. Caught Carol off guard by matching her malice. Easily.

Evie found herself shaking. Face hot. Eyes betraying her too well.

“But, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Leave me alone.” She spat the gum in the trash and pushed out to go. Carol followed her down the empty hallway, skipping and loving this side of Evie that poured like tar.

“Does he at least buy you nice dinners? I bet he’s flush with cash. Buys you things in leather and lace. Does he have a preference? I think lace. You're a dainty spring flower he plucks the petals from all for himself. Right?" Carol struck Evie with an arrow at that sentiment. "Is Billy jealous? Bowers is probably into the weird shit. You must be a real pro at-” Carol hitched to squeal when Evie flared.

Two hands plucking her up to shove her into the lockers. Breaths in sync, Evie found herself hissing. A fire built to pour and ravage. Warming them both. She leaned too close to Carol's face.

“Just, shut up.” She trembled, teeth-baring. A silver tear fell down her cheek. Fingers warped into Carol's pink turtleneck sweater. The trapped girl actually reached up to catch it on her finger. Looked dreamily into the droplet like she was viewing a distant memory.

“Ah, you’re actually crying. Like a little baby. You should start wearing a big red A, Fen. Bowers must love having a little baby girl around. Dress her up and down, down, down.” Carol sneered, glossy lips popping.

She dropped the pretense as Evie held her there. Let it all flutter. Started to shatter silently. Evangeline wondered. She really wondered if what Carol Perkins saw in her that she hated so much was just herself reflected. Poor thing.

Poor things.

"You don't know shit about me." Evie managed. It sounded so unconvincing coming out.

"I know all these people around here are weak. They're so fucking weak." Came the spark. "But, not us."

Carol came in close. Added fuel to the fires. Did something peculiar and gave Evie this sickly sweet peck on the lips. Gloss and red mingled. She stole something she saw deep inside of Evie that she felt too. Got shoved back again when Evie recovered. Tongued her mouth after tasting the salt of more tears. Carol was welling now. Voice low. Starting to quiver. Evie's fingers left blushing marks on freckled skin.

It hurt and Carol loved that it hurt.

“It feels good, doesn’t it? Real good. Pile that pain onto someone else. This. Feels better.” Carol sniffled with budding fury. Waited for admission. She tremored and asked a question that killed them both. "What happens when we run out of silky petals, Evie, huh? What the fuck do we do then?"

Tears shed, they didn't cleanse.

"I d-don't know, Carol," Evie released the thoughts and mourned it deeply, "but, I think about it every single day."

Disgust welled. Evie thought of Fredrick grabbing at her. Seething to keep their secrets locked at any cost.

Wheels within wheels. Turning endlessly.

Fires within fires.

She dropped Carol and stalked off. Proud like Hester in The Scarlet Letter. Fleeting temptress with dominance and power for days like Abigail in The Crucible. Heroines and villains and virgins and whores and martyrs. None of them win.

Women were always packaged just so. The world seemed to prefer that. All these stories Fredrick made her read and reread until she took them into her soul. Lolita who always gets the blame she never deserved because she was young and a victim and no one cares about that. Why don't they care about us? They care about how she was prepackaged by a society that never tried to save her.

No one cares or grieves why and how women are carved from pristine marble, only that it's their fault if they tarnish and crack. Their fault if they stumble and fall. No going back.

No going back.

White roses painted red. They never asked first.

Evie was a couple of steps away from the classroom when a mass of claws tore into her curls. Yanked her back so hard that her backpack fell off.

“Still pretending you’re better than me, bitch! Admit it!”

Evie cried out. Alerted nearby classes. Thought of Fredrick tearing her down the same way and whirled with her hand out on pure instinct. Smacked Carol in the mouth. Froze with huge eyes. And Carol actually smiled. Bloodied teeth and sticky lip gloss. She looked like such a girl there.

"Alright, Fenny babe, I'll play the villain for you. Just like you wanted." Carol dove on Evie while classes began to pool out. They hit the floor and lockers rolling around. Not really landing punches or slaps. Just locked around each other shouting and tearing into clothing and loose hair. Both crying.

“Shit!” Billy, Steve, and Tommy shoved through the jeering teens to pull them apart. Chaos rained.

“Girl fight! Girl fight!” This school really reveled in such things every single time.

“We need help here! Ladies, enough!” The poor substitute in Bowers' room was not having a great first day.

“Get off me!” Carol finally detached from Evie so Billy scooped her up under the arms. The redhead noticed Mr. Bowers wasn’t around and stopped struggling. This cruel look twisted her face.

“Can’t leave you alone for a second, huh?” Billy’s voice brought Evie back into the shouting as she scrambled up with his help.

“You two! Principal!” Another teacher came between them. The useless security guard was just now jogging around the corner. Evie tore her bag up and passed Steve and Tommy. Carol was already stomping off. Something awful lighting her bones aflame. Red locks bounced and became fire.

Ushered away through crowds, they were put into a cramped room. Seated next to each other.

“Perkins and Fenny?” Their principal plopped into a chair with his secretary sitting in back to make notes. “I haven’t had problems with either of you.”

Carol burst right there. Sobbed through the words.

“It’s all Evie's fault! She slept with him and she’s just getting away with it! She gets everything! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of all this and...and I want it to stop! I just want it all to stop!”

“Ms. Perkins, you’re not being app-!”

“What if I told you it was a grown man, huh! Maybe someone who works here.”

“Liar!” Evie wretched over her chair to swat at Carol until they had to be forced apart again into separate rooms. A clock ticked. Blared in her ear and made her crazy while she waited. Tears streamed.

Carol was about to ruin her life. Drag all this shit back to the surface.

God, what would Mona say if she knew her daughter was an evil temptress?

Evie got into her bag for something. Anything to make it better. Nothing small enough to swallow at the bottom so Evie just rocked. Patting her cheek again to console herself. Bubblegum lip gloss still stained her red lips. No wiping it away.

Chief Hopper poked his head into the room ten minutes later, causing her to drop the bag and send her items everywhere.

Hester. Abigail. Lolita. Twisting goddesses. They all pay for it somehow. The narrative always makes them pay and they never had a chance to be anything else. Can't blame them.

Poor things. Lost to the fires within fires.

Books and papers flew out elegantly around her feet. Scattering away as Evie burst into harsh tears.

~~~~~~~~~

Oof, sorry to end it there lads! More to come and thank you so so much for following as always. All the comments mean so much to me and I’d love to chat about the chapter!! Thanks!

TAGGED: @80sbxtch @nottherightseason @orxhidshavana @alagalaska @alongcamedolly @kellyk-chan @10blurredsmoke10 @stanley--barber @charmed-asylum @unmistakablyunknown

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #Billy Hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove smut #mine #somy #angel fenny #Billy x Angel #writing #Carol

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rokutouxei · 3 years

Text

the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]

The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop's most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo's pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go?

[ masterpost for all chapters ]

CHAPTER 1 OF 22

“Hey Theo, your girlfriend’s here.”

Just as she always is: 2:00pm every Wednesday and Sunday, carrying a maroon Kånken bag slung over one shoulder, dark brown hair up in an (adorably) messy half-bun. Today, she’s wearing a black turtleneck under a plaid coat, because it’s early fall now, and every day is a little colder than the last. Mustard-colored shorts over leggings, high-cut Doc Martens. She’s looking at the books on display through the window, hand pressed lightly on the glass.

Theo looks up just long enough to confirm that it is her, their favorite customer, before he disinterestedly returns his gaze to his book. “She isn’t my girlfriend.”

Working in the most reliable, well-known bookstore in a university town means a lot of university students come and go regularly, whether it’s for books needed for class or idle reading. There are a lot of familiar faces, but hers is arguably the most recognizable, considering she’s there twice every week.

Like on clockwork.

Arthur, Theo’s only other co-worker, has just finished shelving the new stock of books by the register when she finally decides to enter. The little bell hanging by the door rings as she does. Theo doesn’t even bother. Arthur makes up for it with his enthusiasm. “Welcome to Dragon’s Hoard Bookstore—oh, it’s you, little bird!” He walks up to her and they do a little high five.

She smiles; it crinkles the corner of her eyes ever so gently. “Hey, Arthur! Nice to see you.”

“How’s your class with The Professor Everyone Hates?”

“Oh, please, don’t get me started,” she sighs. “Considered shifting to lit yet? I could use the company.”

Arthur smiles conspiratorially. “Only for you, luv.”

Theo flips a page on his book. Ah, of course Arthur’s become friends with her. Arthur hits up anything that vaguely resembles the shape of a woman—a couch, a shelf, name it. He’s not really interested in his co-worker’s woman-hunting pursuits.

Arthur, however, seems to be a little more up to it. Theo doesn’t quite know if it’s because he’s interested in the girl he keeps insisting is Theo’s girlfriend, or just because both of them are friends. That makes her a bigger weirdo. Who wants to be friends with Arthur? “So, how can we help you today?”

“I actually came in to pick up my book! I got the message that it’s in—and I need it for class. I ordered it last week.”

Theo feels the stare directed at him all the way across the store—not that it’s that large to begin with. He doesn’t need to look up to know that Arthur is throwing him that glance he has become so familiar with—but he raises his head anyway just to glare back at him, a silent Please don’t.

But when did Arthur ever listen to him anyway? “If it’s a special order then it should be at the register,” the playboy sing-songs, ignoring the death stare he’d received. “How about go over and ask Theo, hmm?”

A tick of a vein on his forehead. Don’t get him wrong—working retail in a small quiet town isn’t anywhere as bad as, say, being employed in a big fancy spot downtown, but when Arthur is regularly like this to him… it’s rather easy to work up a temper. Calm down, Theo says to himself, as he puts his feet down from the chair to sit a little more appropriately for work. The girl takes a pause—gauging, measuring, making sure?—before answering with a half-hesitant, but still lively “Thanks Arthur!”.

The store is just small enough that in five steps, she is in front of him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He steels his face to a practiced, charming customer-service smile that makes Arthur snicker from across the store. One day Theo’s definitely going to get that idiot fired, or mangled, and no one will know it was him. “A special order? I need an ID for that.”

“Yeah, sure!” she pulls out a student ID from her pocket, places it on the counter, and wrings her hands like she’s nervous. Why, though. It’s just a book. Theo takes the ID, looks at her name, gives it back to her, and coolly looks through the stacks of books underneath the desk.

Theo doesn’t know where she gets this curiosity and her fidgety hands, but by the time he’s pulled out her book—a book of literary criticism on 20th century poets (that just makes sense, doesn’t it. a literature major in the bookstore, he thinks to himself)—she’s already flipping through the book he was just reading, chewing on her lower lip. She near-jolts when she realizes her book is already on the counter, lost in between the pages of his book.

Ah, the thought pings in Theo’s mind. Arthur’s a trying-hard literature major. That’s probably where they’ve met.

“Any particular poet you’re interested in?” he asks once he’s gone up, dusting the book off gently with his hands. He doesn’t really like small talk, but it’s bookshop etiquette at this point.

“Cummings, maybe?” she answers, and it makes Arthur stifle a laugh from the other end of the store; it’s audible to everyone no matter how hard he tries.

“A world of made is not a world of born,” Theo recites, to which she beams.

“Yes, pity poor flesh and trees, poor stars and stones,” she finishes. She looks entirely too visibly pleased by their exchange: Theo isn’t too thrilled about it. “I suppose you’ll find it cheesy that I like his love poems.”

“They’re great, hard to not like,” he says, following up with another poem: “kisses are a better fate than wisdom, lady i swear by all flowers.”

“You are whatever a moon has always meant, and whatever a sun will always sing is you,” she offers, as well. Grinning awkwardly as she puts Theo’s book back on the counter—a Camus, not really her jam—she says, “I really didn’t take you to be a poetry kind of guy.”

“Not only literature majors read poetry,” Theo answers.

She flushes and pouts a little, making Theo chuckle under his breath. “Well, I don’t really know what major you’re taking,” she says, recomposing herself. Theo has an inkling why she’s so nervous now, but he’s not really interested in it. “No way to find out.”

Theo shakes his head and pushes the order-claims log and a pen in her direction. “How about give it a guess.”

She presses the cap of the pen to just below her pink lip and thinks. “Hmm… political science?”

“Wrong.” Theo slips her book into a paper bag with the bookstore’s logo stamped on it.

She pouts, but a little less seriously than earlier. She signs the log and pushes it back to him. “Aww, dammit. You looked like a crook, too.”

It takes a few seconds for it to sink in, Theo busy sorting the files into their proper boxes. “What?”

“I’m kidding!” she says with a grin. She doesn’t move to take her book, just rests her elbows on the counter and her chin on her palms. She’s here every week at this hour, she knows when business is slow; she can go and pester the employees, sure. And with Arthur enabling her, there is no escape for Theo. He’s really going to strangle Four-Eyes soon. “History?”

Theo doesn’t want to indulge her, but he’s a good employee. “What stereotypes are you going on, here?”

“Well, literature isn’t really a favored field as it is, and you’re reading Camus, so…” she trails off. “Figured poetry was just your little nerd thing, and you’re some serious dude elsewhere.”

He’s not usually the confrontational type, in fact, he’d rather get this conversation over with, but somehow he can’t stop. He’ll never hear the end of this from Arthur later. “A nerd, says the one who is always at the bookstore, peering over the window looking at books. Can almost see your tail wagging excitedly like a little hondje.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I don’t know what that last word means but it sounds like an insult.”

Theo shrugs, trying to freeze the smirk out of his face. “Guess you’ll never know.”

At that exact moment, a trio of what looked like exhausted seniors enters the store, the bell at the doorway announcing their entrance. Theo half-heartedly calls out a Welcome to Dragon’s Hoard! because Arthur is in the back room.

“Times up for me,” their—no, Arthur’s—favorite customer finally says in defeat, after what seems like ten years. She picks up her book from the counter. “One day I’ll figure out your major and find an even worse insult to tell you, Theo,” she teases, grinning as she turns away.

“Try,” Theo only drily answers, to which she puts out her tongue, and finally leaves the bookshop with a spring in her step.

Like any regular devil, Arthur’s timing is impeccable, as right at this moment he emerges from where he’s sorting books some shelves away, swinging by the register with a grin. He turns to check that their other customers are far from earshot, but then it’s his turn to torment Theo. Of course. Theo doesn’t get paid enough for this.

“Aww, didn’t want to get caught flirting with an employee. What a sweetheart.”

“What the hell are you talking about,” Theo asks. “If that was flirting then she wasn’t trying at all. Had no effect on me whatsoever.”

Arthur pulls a face of mock disbelief. “Sure, sure. She was making such a cute face, too. But if ever you change your mind, she left her number in the order log, so you might want to—"

“Leave me alone, Arthur,” Theo sighs, and Arthur laughs like he’s won.

Was that worth it? Was that actually worth it? Holy shit.

She walks two blocks away from the bookshop before turning into a random street corner to breathe. She presses the paper bag against her chest, feeling her heart trying to keep up with the demand for blood, mostly to her face. No, it wasn’t, her brain almost answers for her, but did she actually expect anything else? He’s mighty fine—easily one of the more tolerable face in this drab university town, and with a stare like that that could easily throw people off, push admirers away… he couldn’t, in this lifetime, have been someone who would go down without a fight.

And what a fight it was, if she could call that one! She didn’t expect him to answer back, much less tolerate that much conversation from her, and yet! Her head was spinning so fast, trying to process the information.

“What the hell man, relax,” she says to herself, leaning against the brick wall behind her with a thump. Why the hell did you do that? What the hell is wrong with you? Oh my god.

Even with her heart pounding angrily inside her chest, so loudly she can barely hear anything, she doesn’t find the strength, the will, or the desire to get the grin out of her face. Oh, boy, was that worth it. Kind of fun, really.

She wouldn’t call herself a heartbreaker in any way—she’s close to Arthur, being in the same club and such, but she is no way near his level. All she really wants is to be done with this and get out of this goddamn town that’s been keeping her hostage for years. But god, why did she had to have slipped and told Arthur she thinks his co-worker is kind of hot?

Arthur knowing about her crush and Arthur knowing about her little penchant for doing things she’s either been told not to do or told she would not be able to do—really was her undoing. One little you know, Theo’s the last person you want to befriend if you want a hint of romance; he probably won’t even spare you five seconds, and they both know from that very moment that she would go for the kill.

She does.

She does and it is glorious.

She could feel Arthur grinning at her from across the bookstore the entire time.

It’s taken her weeks to gather the courage, but—who knew it would be this thrilling? It wasn’t like she was looking for a relationship, she just “wants to join in on the fun,” as Arthur likes to say. Oh, is this why the man’s so addicted to doing this? It sure is adrenalizing. Kind of fun.

When her breathing is a little more stable and her legs a little steadier, she resumes her walk to her favorite café with a little spring on her step. She hasn’t felt this determined to get on with reading in a long time.

“Welcome!” the familiar baristas call out when she arrives, and she waves at them as she piles her stuff on her typical spot. When she approaches the counter, the barista with sunflower-yellow hair and a smile like summer recognizes her, beaming. “Hey! The usual?”

She smiles back. “Yep, thank you!”

Ah, why does this feel so good?

“Are you opening shop tomorrow, or am I?”

Arthur is sweeping off the dust by the register and Theo is closing down the windows—it’s 5:00 in the afternoon and the shop closes early on weekends. It’s phrased as a question, but Theo’s voice is resolute: Arthur is opening the shop tomorrow.

It’s the least he can do for all the chaos with bringing that girl from the literary club.

Arthur isn’t even a literature major. Yet. This is ridiculous.

“I will, I will,” Arthur pledges, shaking off the dust into the bin. “I really don’t understand though, when you’ll still be here 10 minutes earlier than I will be,”

Theo doesn’t even blink. “It’s called being on time, Arthur.”

“No timecards in this bookstore, are there?” Arthur answers, but he’ll still be here right on time tomorrow anyway. Not early, just on time. Just like most of him, Theo supposes—isn’t that why he’s on a gap year in the middle of his medical degree? Dabbling in electives in the literature department of all things. Arthur seems to catch onto this train of thought and adds—“Pardon good sir, but you, too are only taking one class this semester.”

And that’s true—Theo only has one class, on Saturday mornings, when his day off is scheduled. He could have taken his thesis course already this semester, but… “I have other priorities right now,” he says, just as he always does, and then quips, for good measure, “but you are just loitering. Don’t make comparisons.”

Arthur laughs at that only because he’s so used to Theo already, saying, “Oh, you wound me.” He puts away the broom to its compartment at the back and goes to the door to leave. Not before he looks back at the register where Theo has just finished packing his bag. “If you need the miss’ number—”

“Go home, Arthur.”

—which is answered by boisterous laughter, the chimes at the doorway ringing.

Late that night, hair still damp from the shower, she suddenly remembers to look up the word that’s been stuck in the inside of her head all afternoon, disrupting her thought processes, letting her lose her train of thought. Hell, she doesn’t even know how to spell it—she has to wrangle with letters being added and removed to get the translator to recognize the language.

Hawje.

Hanje.

Howche.

Honje.

Hondje, the app finally offers, pinging with recognition as it shows her the translation.

She takes a moment to stare at the screen, taking it in.

“What?”

She presses the flip button. English turning to Dutch. Same results. Presses it again, Dutch to English. Same results. She looks up, stares at the blank wall, remembers what he told her.

“…Can almost see your tail wagging excitedly like a little hondje.”

Her mouth falls open in offense, eyes darting back to her phone.

“DID HE CALL ME A DOG?”

Ah, the beginnings of a twisted, cruel love.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp theo

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nxrthmizu · 4 years

Text

-Lordbug, Robin and Kitty Noir- Chapter Twelve: In Which Lila Lies

---

/Part One//Part Eleven/

---

The school was abuzz with chatter. Students everywhere gossiped about MDC’s show, everyone sharing their opinions about the newly-debuted designer. Some people sharing their opinions more than others.

“I knew her since we were four!” Lila declared. “When we were kids, I used to be her model.”

The girls in the class fawned over the fact that Lila, yet again, knew another famous person. MDC had bloomed into an overnight sensation- ‘Majesty’ crowded over magazine covers, but the Lordbug and Kitty Noir outfits were not overshadowed. Many pages were dedicated to the fashion show that had taken place the previous day, each and every article complementing on the designer’s skill and talent- And she was so polite, too! (Not to mention she was really pretty~)

Aurore was smiling widely as students flocked her, asking how she’s managed to get an interview with MDC before MDC even debuted. She smiled and brushed people off politely, saying that she was just lucky. The sour look on Alya’s face was unmissable, so Lila quickly jumped to the chance.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Alya.” The Italian pouted as she apologised. “I did mention you to MDC, but she said she already found a blog to interview her. I’m sure she’ll ask you to do the next one, though! She was really sorry that you didn’t get your chance since she already asked Aurore.”

The ombre-haired girl brightened up immediately. “Gosh, that’s so nice of you, Lila! And there’s no need to apologise.” She cast a dark look at Aurore. “She got in by luck, I’ll get in for talent.”

Across the classroom, Chloe snorted. The trio had been lounging at the back, listening to the conversation with… Various feelings about it. Damian was downright furious. How dare Lila claim she knew MDC when MDC was bullied by her everyday? Chloe was rather amused- She couldn’t wait to see Lila’s face when Marinette revealed herself after their graduation. Marinette was rather… Unbothered. Karma would be back for the Italian girl when the right time came- There was no need to get her own hands dirty.

“I still feel so sorry you didn’t get the chance, Alya.” Lila pouted and shedded a tear. “To make it up to you, I’ll ask MDC to do a commission for you. She always said that since I helped her to her success, she’d make a dress for me anytime.”

Awe and jealousy glinted in every girls’ eyes. Alya beamed enthusiastically. “Lila! You’re always so kind, thank you! I’d love to get a dress from MDC!”

“Too bad she’s not actually getting one.” Chloe glanced at her nails, a bored expression on her face. Marinette shot her a playful look, which the blonde shrugged off.

Luckily, Chloe’s remark was unheard by the excited girls, who continued to crowd around Lila until Madame Mendeliev snapped her book on the table, yelling for everyone to get back to their seats. Still, the excitement lingered in the class, and the skip in Alya’s pace spoke enough of how disappointed she’d be on the next day.

—

“Alya, please forgive me.” Lila sniffed pitifully as she cried. “I asked MDC, but she said she was flocked with commissions overnight and she can’t get to yours until she’s finished all the rest!”

Alya’s face fell as her eyes dulled in disappointment. She’d been looking forward to good news from Lila, but clearly, the only thing that the day had brought was bad luck. The ombre-girl tried to keep a straight face as she reassured her friend. “It’s alright, Lila. I’m pretty sure she was really busy anyway.” She chuckled and shrugged it off, but everyone could see the stiffness of her body, the slump of her shoulders, and the tears prickling on her eyelids.

Damian let out a little chuckle, his green eyes twinkling in satisfaction. “What did I say?”

“Pft.” Chloe laughed softly, her amusement clear in her eyes and her relaxed position. “Too bad, Cesaire.”

Marinette glared at both of them. “Play nice!” She hissed. Her two friends took one look at each other and shrugged, uncaring of the disappointment and lies that constantly hovered over that class.

It was no longer, their class, after all.

—

The call was pretty much expected.

“Damian.” The stern voice of his father made it clear that it was unarguable. “I demand to meet the girl.”

Although it was already a made decision, it didn’t mean Damian had to be happy about it. “Fine.” He grumbled. “I’ll ask her. But no promises.”

Bruce made a grunt in his throat, his excitement not showing through his facial expression but his eyes. Blue orbs sparkled in excitement as the papa bat waited patiently to meet his little robin’s newfound mate.

—

“Um, Marinette…” Damian coughed awkwardly into the phone. “My… Um, father wants to meet you.”

The bluenette blinked in confusion on the other side of the line. “Um… Why? Did I do something wrong?” Damian heard his heart crack a little at the concern in her voice. No, you didn’t do anything wrong, my dad just wants to see you. Because he’s a busy body who can’t keep his nose out of my business.

“No, no it’s nothing like that.” Damian sighed, shooting a sharp glare at Tikki, who giggled as she munched on a sugar cube. “It’s just- Um- He kind of guessed that you’re MDC and he’s impressed.”

Marinette sighed in relief. “Oh, then should I bring Chloe as well?”

The green-eyed Gothamite wanted to groan. No, not Bourgeois. But on second thought, Marinette would be more comfortable and assured with the blonde there. “Ye- Yeah, actually, why not.”

“Great! I’ll call her now. Do I have to dress formally? Where are we meeting your father? Should I bring any gifts? Macarons? There’s still time for me to bake a cake!” Marinette’s frantic rambling made a little smile creep up the emerald-eyed’s lips. Tikki giggled at how hopeless her miraculous holder was- And at how frantic Plagg’s holder was.

“We’re meeting him at a restaurant, so maybe dress formally. And no, you don’t need to bring any gifts, ange-” Before he could finish, he was cut off by the bluenette’s insistent rambling.

“You know what, I’m going to bake a cake. I saw a really nice recipe online the other day and I think it would be a good idea! I’ll, um, get started now, does your dad like cheesecakes? What about peaches?”

Damian wanted to laugh. Gosh, he loved the bluenette. “Yes, he likes cheesecakes, and yes, I’m pretty sure he’s fine with peaches as well.”

“Alright then! I’ll get going now, I have a cake to bake! See ya in a bit, Dami!”

And then the phone call ended. Damian laughed to himself, Tikki watching with a warm smile as the emerald-eyed boy fondly thought of his bluenette classmate.

—

Chloe was leaning leisurely on her bed, flipping through a fashion magazine. And then her phone rang.

She frowned, picking up her phone. The caller ID read ‘Bluenette’. The blonde sighed, clicking the answer button. “What is it, Dupain-Cheng? This better be important. You interrupted my magazine reading session.” The blonde grumbled.

“Damian’sdadwantstomeetusapparentlyheknowsI’mMDCandsoyouneedtocometoobecauseyouwereoneofthemodelsand-”

Chloe blinked. “Okay, go over that again, but slower.”

Marinette took a deep breath. “Damian’s dad wants to meet us, apparently he knows I’m MDC and so you need to come too because you are one of the models and I’m baking a cake to bring and we have to dress formally because it’s going to be a formal dinner.”

“Okay.” Chloe breathed. “And this has to do with me because I need to go?”

“Yes, and I’m calling because do you want some peach cheesecake?” Marinette’s bright voice made a little grin dance across the mayor’s daughters lips. Really, it was impossible to not laugh when you were talking to the world’s brightest little bluenette.

Chloe sighed as she got off her bed. “The cake better be good, Dupain-Cheng.”

—

The bakery smelt of cream cheese and peach syrup; Chloe sighed as she breathed in the satisfying scents. “That isn’t actually half-bad, Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette giggled. “Well, the big cake will be for Damian’s father, you can have all the tarts if you want.”

The bluenette baker had baked seven cakes- A giant cake, and six miniature versions of the cake- Tarts. The bottom of the cake was a strong layer of sponge cake, followed by a cream cheese mixture. Atop the cream cheese was a layer of raspberry jam. After that was a jelly made from peach syrup- And inside the translucent jelly was cut up pieces of peach. Marinette had garnished the cake with some decorative flowers, sprinkling some strawberry powder above everything for the final touch. The baker girl delicately slid the cake into a pretty, white box, tying a perfect ribbon to top everything.

“That, is really not bad.” Chloe hummed. “I appreciate this, and much more, for my birthday.”

The bluenette laughed. “Sure, Chloe.” She smiled warmly at her blonde friend, bluebell eyes twinkling in happiness.

Ding!

The front door of the bakery opened, and Sabine called out for the two girls at the back of the kitchen. “Marinette! Your friend’s here!”

“Coming, mama!” Marinette replied, hastily (But carefully) lifting up the box, tugging the ribbon one last time to her satisfaction.

“Marinette, that ribbon is the definition of perfection. Stop fidgeting with it.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Let’s go!”

The bluenette hummed, following after her blonde friend with a bright, happy smile on her face.

Little did she know, she was about to meet her father-in-law.

—

“You must be Marinette.” Bruce smiled warmly, holding a hand for Marinette to shake. The girl panicked, awkwardly trying to figure out which hand to use to shake Bruce’s hand as she held the cake box in her hands. Damian resisted the fond chuckle that was building up in his throat, reaching over to take the cake from Marinette as the bluenette shot him a grateful look.

“You’re Bruce Wayne.” Chloe deadpanned, shooting glares at Damian. “Damian never said he was the Damian Wayne.”

The boy shrugged. “I was going under Fu’s name since I was living with him.”

Bruce nodded. “And you must be Ms. Bourgeois.” The blonde smiled, reaching over to shake the billionaire’s hand as well.

“Um, I baked a little something for you.” Marinette smiled shyly. “I hope you like cheesecakes?”

Bruce’s eyes conveyed nothing but surprise. “You can bake?”

“Father, Marinette is a baker’s daughter. Her parents own the most popular bakery in all of Paris.” Damian cut in, his emerald eyes practically yelling threats at his father.

“I see.” Bruce nodded approvingly. “Ms. Dupain-Cheng is truly a very talented individual.”

The said girl blushed fiercely, spluttering out her thanks. Bruce smiled at how polite and awkward the girl was- Truly, his future daughter-in-law was one of a kind.

—

/Part Thirteen/

---

A/N: Yes, I’ve been MIA for a very long time, sorry... Exams were clogging every part of my schedule. I’ll hopefully be getting back to writing so here’s an update for now! :) Have a nice day everyone, and thanks for putting up with my hectic update schedule... *Insert laughing face*

My grandma’s birthday is today, so I rushed this before her birthday party! Once again, contact me if any mistakes are found.

On another note, I’m sorry to announce that the taglist is closed.

Tag list! @yin-390@mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog@constancetruggle@the-navistar-carol@never-neverland@rayray384 @mystery-5-5 @black-streak@bluerosette23@seraphichana @you-will-never-know-how-i-think@mikantsume@graduatedmelon@thebookwormfairy@crazylittlemunchkin@shizukiryuu@screamingtofillthevoid@serenacross200@zestyzealot@redscarlet95@roseinbloom02 @beautym3@resignedcatservant@sizzling-fairy-oil@tinybrie @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry@lunar-wolf-warrior@northernbluetongue@dannyelric301 @daminett4life@loysydark@sparkle9510@erick-rose99-stuff@nataladriana9@maya-custodios-dionach @myazael @sassakitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @emootaku-666 @moonlightstar64 @r0sebutch @maggiecc12 @gaeasun@miss-mysterys-blog@bluefyoto94 @sam-spectra @toodaloo-kangaroo @queenmj10

#daminette #damian x marinette #marinette dupaincheng mlbdc #damian wayne mlbdc #bruce wayne mlbdc #chloe bourgeois mlbdc #miraculous ladybug x dc #mlbdc #cadenceh2o #lordbug #kittynoir #robin #lordbugrobinandkittynoir

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nihyunluvskookie · 4 years

Text

his wedding //.//

“Jungkook one shot”

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x female reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: mention of blood, glass and wine

Word count: 3.2 K

A/N: I wanted to write something but I wrote this :”) If you want a song recommendations to listen while reading listen to 🎶 Can you hear my heart 🎶 by Epik High ft Lee Hi

[1:50 AM]

I kept the fourth wine bottle on the table and held my wine glass which was half empty, I reached out for my phone, I looked at the wallpaper and started smiling. “Oh, so this is our end after 7 years? Right. You are going to marry someone else tomorrow after promising that we will be together.” I was smiling, I don’t know why and unknowingly my tears started falling. “This is way too much, I thought I will be able to manage and co-operate with this situation. But, how could I? You are my first love. And I can’t forget my first love who was with me for 7 years. We didn’t meet after our 7th year anniversary. I can’t say goodbye to you because it’s hard to say goodbye but I will do it tomorrow, on your wedding”

Everything that happened, that night I wish I could forget and make a new start but tell me how to do that? I want to forget you and think that you are one of those random guys who always make fake promises but I can’t. I am ready to attend your wedding and give myself pain so that I will be able to forget you instead of missing you; once I see your wedding, I will see you as someone else’s husband. I will not tell myself that you will come back and hold me tight like you used to do.

TELL ME WHAT MORE TO DO TO FORGET YOU AND TO STOP HOPING MORE? TELL ME JUNGKOOK

In anger, my grip was getting tighter on the glass and eventually it broke due to pressure and the pieces were scattered everywhere. I swear it didn’t pain, I liked the feeling and blood. My hand was bleeding. I held the pieces in my hand and tried crushing them but it didn’t work and I was frustrated so I thew the pieces on the floor. I was angry on myself.

5 DAYS AGO; 7TH ANNIVERSARY

[7 PM]

I was getting ready for dinner, I wanted to surprise him by taking him out today for dinner date. I texted him to come home fast and get ready. I let my hair down and applied nude makeup. I looked at myself in the mirror, a blue knee length dress with a sweetheart neckline and a heart shape pendant gifted by Jungkook. I heard the bell; I went running down the stairs because I know who it was. I opened the door and he came in, I looked at him; he was holding flower bouquet which was hiding his face. I hugged him tight, I was holding him tight, “Ayyyyyyyy aren’t you going to give this bouquet to me? Huh?” I wanted to tease him but he never hugged me back; I held his hands and saw him smiling, it wasn’t his normal smile. We came to the living room. He didn’t give me bouquet and I looked at him, I was having an urge to ask him what’s wrong? Why does it look like he is broken? Is it hurt? Did I hurt him?

He hugged me, all of a sudden and it was tight. I could feel something was wrong, I broke the hug and looked at him, his eyes said something I couldn’t understand.

“Kookie are you okay? Huh? Are you sad?” I looked at him but he was avoiding my gaze; he was looking down all the time.

“Jungkook, tell me. What’s wrong?”

“Jungkook, tell me. Please” I was getting worried, very worried.

“I… I love you” he said me those words.

“I love you too Jungkook” I smiled at him. “now tell me what happened? Please, Kookie. I am here by your side” I was worried, I was requesting him but he looked like he wasn’t going to say anything. I know my limits; I can’t force him to say everything. I will give him his own personal space.

“Jungkook, if you are not going to say, I won’t force y-

“I am getting married” he said,

“Wow! I am so happ- wait what? You- Jungkook” I looked at him, the flower bouquet he was holding fell on floor.

“Jungkook? You are getting what?” I hate his jokes, I was angry. Definitely this is the worst joke ever, my tears were falling already.

“Jungkook stop this type of joke, okay? I hate your jokes. Tell me it’s a joke. Please” I was holding his arms, I wanted him to say, this is a lie.

“Jungkoook!” I screamed. I couldn’t stop crying, I couldn’t. This is what I get after spending and loving a guy for 7 years.

He hugged me, I was hitting him, why is he doing like this and specially today, he could’ve said it other day but no, he chooses today. “Let me go Jungkook, right now” I was trying to get out of his grip but he was holding me tight.

“Jungkook. LET ME GO. I SAID LET ME GO” I was shouting but it was in vain.

“How can I let you go when I love you? Tell me Y/N?” he was crying, my bare shoulder was getting wet, I can get hurt but I can’t see him hurt. I can’t.

“Jungkook, let me go. You are getting married. Kookie, let me go and don’t cry. Please Jungkook you’re hurting me more.”

“Tell me how could I not agree when dad threatened me by saying he will destroy your career and make your life miserable. How could I let you suffer? Tell me! I can’t let him do that” his words were making me cry more. I was sobbing harder and his grip around me was getting tighter “This is all because of the damn business. I hate business relationships. I don’t even know the girl, and dad said she loves me; does that makes any sense? I am ready to do anything for not letting you get hurt. I am sorry.”

“Jungkook, stop.” My mind was a mess, he is doing this to protect me? What kind of protection? Without him? Business? I know it very well and that was the reason I left my family and started my new career.

I can’t ruin him and his future.

“Jungkook. Stop everything and leave.” I took a step back from him.

“I am going to love you and you only, even if I get married I can’t forg-

“Jungkook, go. I hate you. Go now. I don’t need you. That’s it”

“Y/N listen it’s nothing like that”

“Go away. I said I hate you.”

“Y/N I know you don’t mean it. You love me.” His eyes were getting more teary, just to stop hurting him and getting in between his new life; I had only one idea and that was to push him away. Living as his mistress? Never, I would feel worse for his wife. I don’t want to be a girl who takes away someone’s husband.

“I hate you. Jungkook I SAID GO.” It was very obvious that he wasn’t buying my lies; which fool will buy my lies after loving him like that.

He was coming near me and I was taking each step backward; I was ready to do anything to end us right now. I can’t get him hurt. Soon I was in a dead end, my back felt the kitchen counter. “you can’t go anywhere now.”

“Jungkook-

“Will you still push me if I tell you how much I love you.” He pressed his lips against mine, his kiss was soft and it was melting me, he pulled me closer. His touches were working on me like they always did. My tears were falling, I can’t get weak. I pushed him with all the force I had, I slapped him. “Stop forcing me Jungkook. I said I hate you; do you get it?” my screams were louder than anything. I know how shit I felt when I slapped him. I hate myself for doing this to him.

“Y/N this is not you, right?”

“You haven’t seen me like this and this is my true self." I was pushing Jungkook and anyhow I managed to bring him near the door. He was getting weak too, and he will never push me because he knows. I pushed him hard to and he was outside my house. I slammed the door infront of his face, his eyes; those eyes I can never forget them. Those sad eyes will haunt me forever for being so harsh on him. I finally hurt him. He was hitting the door again and again “Y/N open the door. For god sake, please. Y/N please. Listen to me”

I can’t bear to hear to his voice not after what happened here. I walked up to the living room and picked up the flower bouquet. I went back to my room and in anger I started punching the wall, I hit the window glass and it broke. My hands were bleeding. The blue dress I was wearing now was painted with my blood. I broke down then and there. I hurt him, I did it. I hurt the one whom I loved more than love. My phone kept ringing; I didn’t bother to look up at that. I was hurt, I was letting a person go whom I treasured more than my life. Both of us are hurt but there’s no way I am going back to him just to ruin his life. ‘You did well Y/N.’ I said to myself to feel better but it wasn’t even working.

[PRESENT]

[2:00 AM]

“You know, Kookie, I finally got courage after 3 days to go out and I was a mess. I managed to find a beautiful white dress; that I will wear in your wedding. I am sure you will say, I am looking pretty like the way you did always. But this time I will push you again”. I was smiling, I was still looking at our picture. “I need to change the wallpaper”

“Ahh, I need to look good tomorrow, because it’s your wedding” and I was crying again. I left the mess there. I went back to my room and opened the first aid kit. I cleaned the blood and took out the pieces of glass which were piercing through my skin. My knuckle was starting to get better but now my hand. It didn’t hurt anymore. After cleaning and applying bandage, I charged my phone and tried sleeping. Another night with tears and nightmare.

[HIS WEDDING]

[10 AM]

I was changing the dressing of my hand. I did it carefully, I can’t be careless anymore. I need to work, from tomorrow. I quickly changed myself into the white dress I brought that day for his wedding. I let my hair down and keeping my side bangs perfectly. I applied very light makeup and wore the pendant he gifted me. I wore the bracelet and the watch. I looked at the time, it was nearly time, Jimin said he will come and pick me up.

Jimin being our mutual, I can’t cut off my connections with him just because of Jungkook. I heard my phone ring, I looked at the caller id, it was Jimin. I took my sling bag and went down. I saw Jimin’s car outside. I locked my house; I saw him standing outside his car, he was holding a bouquet of roses. He was smiling at me. “Pretty lady.”

“Thankyou Jimin. You look like a gentleman” I smiled at him.

“Thankyou but will you be okay? He still doesn’t know you are attending. Are you sure?” he was worried, his face said it all.

“I am okay. And I can count on you if something happens, right? I believe you Jimin.” I reassured him, with a smile. I know what I am going through and I can’t let myself down infront of myself.

“Yes. You got me, and here’s the bouquet you asked me to buy. Now let’s go” he gave me the bouquet and we drove.

The journey wasn’t that long and the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Soon we reached the church. We got down. I am standing infront of the church. After tormenting myself for days.

“Y/N hold my arm, let’s go inside together. Okay?” He looked at me with a soft smile. I nodded; holding the bouquet in my hand we went inside the church. I saw a lot of people, his friends, Jungkook’s family too.

After sometime, Jungkook came standing near the father; I held Jimin’s arm tightly. I was getting anxious. I was looking down and the moment I looked at Jungkook, he eyes looked at me. He was taken aback after looking at me, his face was blank. He looked like a perfect human being, he was wearing tuxedo and his hair perfectly pulled back, his face looked perfect as usual. He had a tight smile before but now it’s gone. It felt like his eyes wanted to tell me something, something that only I can understand. I wanted to smile but it more than tough. I wanted to but I couldn’t, I finally managed to smile at him while holding back my tears from falling.

“Y/N are you okay? Do you want to leave?” Jimin asked me.

“No Jimin, I am okay. I want to congratulate both of them, then both of us can leave together. Now look at Jungkook, he looks perfect here. This is his happiest day of his life” I said him trying hard not to cry. Jimin, dragged me to a corner where only we could talk.

“Y/N you know it very well, this isn’t his happiest day but the worst day of his life. I know I shouldn’t say but you don’t know how he tortured past five days and he was self-loathing. He stopped everything and wanted to see you and only you. You were unavailable. He was broken too just like you. He loved you with all his heart and getting married to someone else for him was the biggest punishment. He was even ready to divorce this girl af-

“Jimin, I don’t want to live as a girl who stole someone’s husband. And do you think I wanted to meet him and tell him that everything will be fine after he came to my home and said he is getting married? Do you know how hard it was for me to cooperate with myself at that time? Do you think I never loved him? I loved him that much that I let him go. And marriage is not a joke, how can he say that he can divorce that girl who did nothing wrong but just loved him. She is going to give him and his family things I can’t give, his family will be better in business. Do you even know how much better I feel after looking at him right now?” Jimin took my hand.

“Do you think this will help? Y/N taking out anger on yourself and self-harming will help you?”

“Jimin stop. It’s nothing like that. Please.” I wanted to hold back my tears but can’t anymore. I broke down there. I never cried infront of Jimin. My tears were unstoppable.

“Y/N I am sorry” he hugged me. I was sobbing, he kept saying sorry and I kept denying his apologizes because he did nothing wrong. He wiped my tears. “Y/N you don’t look good when you cry. Awwww stop crying.” He made me chuckle. I smiled looking at him.

“Now let’s go. I need to see the bride” I said and he nodded

We went back to where we were, it looked like Jungkook’s eyes were finding me. We heard that the bride is coming. I looked at Jungkook, he looked like his mind was a mess. I saw the girl walking with her dad in the aisle. I was still managing to smile with all my might. Even if I am sad for myself, I am happy for the girl who is going to have Jungkook as her husband because I know how Jungkook is. She was looking pretty and I am going to accept my fate.

I saw the girl’s dad gave her hand to Jungkook. Jungkook took and his eyes never leaving mine. The father started saying the bows. It was Jungkook’s turn to say, ‘I do’. Deep inside my heart I thought maybe he will say, ‘I don’t’ because maybe he wants to be with me. Maybe, there’s nothing wrong in hoping a bit. I didn’t realize the whole time that I was holding Jimin’s arms just too tightly.

My heart broke into millions of pieces when he said “I do”. I was holding myself from crying and I couldn’t anymore. I was crying and how badly I wanted to tell him, I still love you Jungkook. Everything looks like it slowed down.

My sight was a blur because of tears. I couldn’t see anything clearly anymore. I heard father asking the girl and she said “I don’t”. Everyone was shocked, I thought I was hallucinating.

“Jungkook, how can you say ‘I DO’ when you love someone else and she is crying in that corner?”

Jimin looked at me and I was still looking at the girl, she was coming near me, I saw her holding my hand and she smiled, a bitter sweet smile. When I looked at Jungkook, I was standing infront of him and people were looking at us and Jimin was surprised. “Y/N” I heard Jungkook say.

“Father, he should be marrying her, not me. There was a mistake. Father please understand this situation and please take their bows.”

This girl was about to leave, I held her wrist. “why are you doing this? I don’t even know you.”

“He loves you and you love him, do you think I can see him tormenting himself because he married me instead of you? I’ve seen him since past week and that was horrible. I don’t want him to suffer like that his whole life. I can fall in love again but he can never forget you and so do you. I saw you crying in the corner with his friend Jimin. So, take care of him and yourself” she looked at my hand. “We can talk after your wedding”

“Father I will excuse myself now” she said and left.

Rings were exchanged and father took the bow. This time Jungkook had a bright smile and eh said “I do” and it was my turn to say, I wanted to say but is it right to say? I was in a dilemma. I am getting married to Jeon Jungkook and this is my wedding. Is this even real? I looked at that girl who was supposed to be standing here instead of me. She nooded and smiled at me whereas Jungkook was hoping the same answer as him. I took a deep breath and looked at him, “I do” I said and I could feel the crowd cheering.

“Now you may kiss the bride”

“I love you Y/N” Jungkook said, I repeated after him “I love you too Jungkook” and the very next moment I felt his lips on me, it was a tender kiss as usual; but this time this kiss had emotions. His hands were on my waist and my hands automatically went around his neck. We held each other which intension of not letting go and a longing kiss. His right hand left my waist and trailed toward my hand; he held my hand tightly and we parted because we were out of breath. Both of us were breathing heavily, “never do this again because I am never letting you go. I love you” I heard him say pointing it to my hand. The crowd was cheering for us.

“I announce both of you as Mr. and Mrs. Jeon”

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desiraypark · 4 years

Text

Drawing New Lines (Final)

Previous Entire Series

Characters: Kylo Ren x Tiffany Palmer (OC - Blk/F) Setting: Modern/Current/Alternate Universe (I went ahead and set it in NYC/NJ lol) Content: Brief smut (possibly dub-con?); *plays “Freedom” by Beyoncé

“Do you think your brother would be willing to help me?”

“Of course. Even if he wasn’t, I’d make him anyway.”

“They drive around my building. They drive around here. They park outside of my clients’ house. I can’t get away from them.”

“Say no more. I know what you need.”

They waited for two weeks. Tiffany didn’t want to leave her co-workers scrambling. Even when in danger, she felt the need to think of others. Additionally, the plan needed to be well thought out. She needed to buy airline tickets. She needed to call her mother. If Kylo were just your average Joe, she could have just abandoned everything. But no…

Kylo was the son of Michael Ren--entrepreneurs with important affiliations. He was the wife of Chelsea Ren, born Chelsea Palpatine--protégé of her father. The Rens and the Palpatines had the city--the state, even--on lock. They had eyes and shooters everywhere. She couldn’t “just leave”.

“What are you thinking about?” Kylo asked at the dinner table.

Dinner was a bit more comforting tonight--breakfast for dinner. Shrimp and grits, bacon, and biscuits from scratch. The meal warmed her. Relaxed her. It eased a longing.

Tiffany shook out her head out of its haze. “What?”

“I said, what are you thinking about?”

She shook her head again. “Nothing.”

“That didn’t look like a nothin’ face,” Kylo pushed.

She thought quickly. “Thinking about a pushy client.”

Kylo raised an eyebrow. “A pushy client?”

Tiffany nodded with confidence. “They wanted me to decorate their living room but they micromanaged me. Now their shit is ugly.”

Kylo chuckled. “As long as they don’t give you any bad reviews or anything.”

Tiffany agreed with a forced smile, and returned her attention to her plate.

“You look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you...”

Kylo stared at her. Suddenly, she became self-conscious. She didn’t look particularly different, or special. Did he suspect something? Was this a trick? He patted his lap.

“Come here,” he said.

Tiffany chuckled nervously. “For what?”

“For what?” he asked. “Just get over here.”

She cleared her throat and walked over to Kylo’s side of the table. He took her hand and gently pulled her down to his lap. His hand ran up and down her thigh, then he gave her ass a squeeze.

“Take your pants off.”

Tiffany’s heart skipped a beat. They’d done this before. “Kylo, this food is going to get cold.”

“And we can heat it back up.” He tugged at the band on her pants. “Take your pants off.”

Tiffany stood up and pulled down her slacks, revealing her luscious hips in boy shorts. Kylo bit his lip and ran his fingertips up her thighs. “Has it been long enough?”

Tiffany was being torn in three different directions. She could’ve lied--and said that her body needed more time (because he truly didn’t deserve to touch her). She could have told him the truth--yes, it had been long enough. He’d probably researched it, anyway. Or, she could have told him the truth because unfortunately, she needed him inside of her one more time.

She pulled down her underwear and Kylo ran his finger between her outer lips--feeling her warmth and gathering her wetness.

“Did she miss me?” he asked. He shoved a finger inside and met Tiffany’s eyes. Her jaw dropped. She could have slapped herself in the face. Kylo chuckled to himself, slid his chair back, then tapped the dining table.

Tiffany climbed onto the table, and Kylo slid his chair close. He pried her thighs apart, exposing her to him--her beautiful flower blossomed and ready for the taking. He leaned in and dragged his pointed tongue against her clit. Her eyes closed. She grabbed his hair and threw her head back.

____________________

“I texted him,” Tiffany said, walking through the parking garage with Adelle. She looked around and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I asked if he was planning on coming over.”

Adelle unlocked the doors to her Mercedes and they both climbed into the car.

“What did he say?”

“He said he was busy. Then asked why.”

Adelle started her car. “And what did you say?”

“I haven’t texted back yet.”

Adelle slowly backed out of her space. “Tell him where you’re going. If you don’t say anything he’s going to get suspicious. Just say a restaurant. Only tell him the name if he asks.”

“And if I lie, Black Car is going to tell him differently,” Tiffany thought out loud.

Tiffany texted Kylo, telling him that she would be dining with her boss. Of course, he asked where. And she told him: The Red House.

The black car was behind them the whole time--one, two, sometimes three cars away. But Adelle drove like a secret agent--unfathomed and in charge. Miraculously, she found a space not far from the restaurant. She grabbed her phone, ID, and credit card, and stuffed the items in her jacket pocket. Tiffany did practically the same--stuffing her wallet into her suit jacket. The ladies placed their handbags and laptops in the trunk of Adelle’s car, then walked just several yards to the restaurant’s door.

Chills went down Tiffany’s spine as they walked into The Red House. The air was palpable. Old images flashed in her mind--Kylo at the bar with another woman, many Decembers ago. She looked out at the dim hallway in the back, remembering when she came out of the restroom and he was standing there. The host sat them near the kitchen at a table with four seats.

“Your server will be right with you,” he said.

“Thank you. Could you tell Mr. Mason that Adelle is here?”

“Uh, yes ma’am,” the host said, nodding.

Tiffany feigned a search over the menu. Then, Antoine Mason came from the back, bent down, and hugged his twin sister.

“Hey, Sis,” he said.

“Hey, Honey.”

He looked at Tiffany. “How are you this evening?”

Tiffany shivered. “Excited. Scared.”

“No need to be scared,” he said. He looked at Adelle. “John?”

“All set,” Adelle said. Antoine returned his attention to Tiffany and smiled. “Your server will come soon. I told her all she needed to know.”

Tiffany nodded and Antoine smiled, then walked away. Then, a young lady walked to them. “Good evening, Ladies,” she said, pulling out her pad. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

No alcohol. Adelle got a raspberry lemonade, Tiffany iced tea. Their minds needed to be clear. Rolls and salads came. House salads. Nothing that Antoine or the cook would be angry to see wasted. The server “took their orders”. Then, Adelle got up to grab something from her car. Moments later, she returned with a random bottle of hand sanitizer.

“Don’t panic,” Adelle said. “Where they’re parked, they can see right inside. They can see the kitchen.”

“Fuck,” Tiffany whispered. Her heart rate increased and she rested her elbow on the table.

“Don’t panic, don’t panic,” Adelle said.

“You telling me not to panic is making me panic,” Tiffany mumbled.

Tiffany and Adelle waited for their server to come back. She asked if they were okay, and needed refills. Adelle said “yes”, but said she would need to text her brother. Only two minutes passed, and Antoine instructed them to continue with their plan...

Tiffany got up to use the restroom. She stood in the bathroom, pacing the floor. Her breaths bounced off the linoleum and met her ears. Taunting her. She paced a couple of more minutes--as planned--then slowly opened the bathroom door. Standing by the kitchen door was Antoine, fiddling with an old rolling cart, covered in white linen.

“Stay right there,” he said, voice booming down the short hallway.

Tiffany kept her back to the door. Antoine shook his head and pushed the cart down the hallway and stopped in front of Tiffany.

“Climb in,” he said.

Tiffany shook her head and laughed.

Antoine lifted the linen that covered the cart and Tiffany climbed in. She sat in a tight ball as the rickety wheels rolled over the restaurant’s tile floor--the very tile that sat under her feet when Kylo invited her to his hotel room. The light outside of the linen brightened, and the cloth was lifted. Antoine held out his hand and helped Tiffany out of the cart. Unknowing cooks looked at the scene with knitted eyebrows, as Antoine led her out the back door and toward a blue car in the alley.

Antoine opened the back door and she climbed in his back seat, laid on the floor, and burst into tears.

“You take care, Sweetheart,” Antoine said. He closed the back door.

“Oh, don’t you start that now!” John joked. “Tears of joy?”

“Yes,” Tiffany whimpered.

There was a short silence, then John began to speak.

“Hey baby,” he said. “She’s in here...you in your car?...Alright. Stay on the phone with me.”

Tiffany wiped her tears.

“North Carolina, huh? My family’s from South Carolina…” John said. He started his engine.

“What?” Adelle said through the speakerphone.

“Talking to Tiffany.”

“Oh,” Adelle responded. She chuckled. “I don’t think this man is even paying attention to me...”

____________________

Two Days Later

Kylo’s fingers and ears were stuck to two phones--his personal phone and his business phone. He had his business phone to his ear, and his eyes trained on his personal phone. Suddenly, it lit up.

Cardo: Nothing, still. No sign, no trace.

Kylo balled his fist, imagining Cardo was in front of him so he could beat the shit out of him again.

“Yeah, do what the fuck you have to do,” Kylo said, rushing off his business phone. “Alright.”

Chelsea strolled around the corner, just in time to see Kylo hang up his flip phone and quickly look down at his desk.

Kylo rolled his eyes at the sight of Chelsea and her smirk, then took a swig of his drink. His smartphone went dim.

“What?” he asked.

Chelsea walked behind him and ran her fingers down his chest. She planted kisses on his cheek.

“Your boyfriend out of town?” His phone lit up.

“No, I’m actually going to see him tomorrow,” she said.

Cardo: So sorry Boss. Please forgive me.

Kylo grunted and took a sip of his drink. Chelsea kissed him on the neck, then nibbled on his ear.

“I know that you’ll probably be able to find her…” she mumbled into his canal. “But if you ever put your hands on her, or any other woman again…”

Kylo slowly put his drink down, as Chelsea sucked at his neck again.

“I will beat the shit out of myself…” Kiss. “Tell my father you did it…” Kiss. “…and let him chop you into tiny pieces and fry you up for breakfast.”

Chelsea licked a stripe up his neck and to his cheek. Then, planted another kiss. She walked out of the study and froze in the hallway. She put her hands on her hips and smiled.

“Come say goodnight to your father, my loves!” she said. ____________________ December 2020 (A Few Days Before Christmas)

Christmas in Charlotte was a world different from Christmas in New York. There was no need for central heat in Gina Palmer’s house in December. The air was warm and balmy. Tiffany sat on her full-sized bed, staring at the flip phone on her dresser. Finally, she stood up, walked to the dresser, and opened the phone. She called the Cannon Street Design Firm, and pressed 111--her desired party’s extension.

“Cannon Street Design Firm, this is Adelle Mason-Brooks speaking.”

“Hi, Adelle...it’s Tiffany...”

There was a brief pause. “Tiffany?”

“Yes...”

“How are you, Sweetie?” Adelle asked, joy in her voice.

“I’m fine. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you. I’m so glad you’ve called me.”

“How’s everything?”

“Everything is everything,” Adelle said. She cleared her throat. “Mrs. Ren was here a few days ago.”

Tiffany swallowed.

“She just wanted to know if you were alright. I told the chick that I wouldn’t know.”

Tiffany chuckled. “Thanks.”

“A strange dynamic those two have, huh?”

“The whole thing was strange...” Tiffany responded with a grunt.

“Well. Yeah. That’s true. She gave me a message to pass on to you...”

Tiffany could hear Adelle shuffling around on her desk.

“She put it in a Christmas card and everything. Hold on...”

There was a long pause--paper rustling--and Adele cleared her throat. “The card just says Happy Holidays, blah blah. But she wrote, “I don’t know how you did it, but I’m happy you did it. You are my hero.” Signed, “CR”.”

Tiffany drew in a deep breath, smiled, and shook her head. “That was nice.”

“Yeah, it was...want me to hold on to it?”

Tiffany took another deep breath. “No. No need to.”

Suddenly, there was a knock at Tiffany’s door. Then, it opened. Gina Palmer peeped in and smile--the movement of her cheeks shifting the old scar that ran down her cheek.

“I made shrimp and grits,” Gina whispered.

Tiffany smiled and nodded at her mother. Gina smiled harder and slipped back out of the room.

“--but I’m so glad you called me. Should I save this number?” Adelle asked.

“Yes, I’d like for you to,” Tiffany replied.

“Alright.”

“Thank you for everything Adelle. I owe your whole family, pretty much.”

“You don’t owe us a thing, Honey. Not a thing.” Tiffany smiled to herself. “Merry Christmas, Adelle.”

“Merry Christmas, Tiffany.”

Tiffany closed her phone and walked out of her bedroom. She walked down the dim hallway--the wall’s wood paneling straight out of the 70s, and joined her mother in the kitchen for shrimp and grits, bacon, and homemade biscuits. ____________________

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#drawing the line #drawing new lines

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kookscrescent · 4 years

Text

SECRETS │ 04 │ jjk

➤ pairing│Jungkook x female reader ➤ summary│Finding someone who doesn’t know who he is, is rare for Jungkook. Everywhere he goes people seem to know his name, his face and the group he’s a part of. But when he comes across someone that doesn’t know any of that, he isn’t in any hurry to reveal that part of his life and the secrets keep piling up. ➤ rating│PG-13 ➤ genre│fluff, dating au, idol au ➤ warnings│kissing, strong language, swearing, the f bomb gets dropped a few times, angst if you squint, fluff ➤ word count│2.6k│semi edited ➤ release date│April 17th 2020 ➤ disclaimer│This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

➤ chapter index│prologue│01│02│03│04│05│06

~~~

When he does not make any more moves after a few seconds, thinking he is done, you open your eyes just as he gently presses his lips against yours.

Your eyes immediately fall shut!

Oh boy!

~~~

His lips barely move against yours for the first few seconds, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted to; but you don’t, and slowly you begin moving your lips, Jungkook quickly following suit and soon enough your lips are moving in tandem.

You take your time, soaking in the feeling and excitement of your first kiss. You feel his tongue rubbing along your lower lip, quietly asking for permission to deepen the kiss. You don’t fight him on it, softly parting your lips to allow his tongue to stroke against yours.

On instinct, you fall into him – the palms of your hands resting on his chest, your fingers curling into the material of his jacket. Softly you hum against his lips, when he brings both of his hands to your cheeks, cupping them and the pads of his thumbs stroking over your cheekbones.

You could stay like this forever! Stay connected with him like this, feeling nothing else but his lips and his hands on your face. This must be what heaven feels like!

A soft groan coming from Jungkook vibrates through your core, making every nerve ending in your body tingle and come to life. If that are the sounds he makes when kissing, imagine the sounds he would make when-

No stop it!

All too soon you have to pull apart, the need for air becoming too overpowering for the both of you.

Pulling apart, you suddenly feel shy, your cheeks betraying you for the hundred time tonight. You have kissed guys before, but none of the can ever live up to the kiss you just shared with Jungkook!

Jungkook rests his forehead against yours, his eyes shining, and his pupils slightly dilated. You are sure that your own resemble his.

He smiles then and your stomach curl with butterflies.

“Aren’t you glad you decided to trust me?” he smirks pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You chuckle, eyes closing at the feel of his lips, “Very,” you breathe.

Back at the car, Jungkook opens the door for you again – like a true gentleman would – before he gets in himself.

You honestly don’t know what time it is, and you really could not care less, but judging by the countless of stars in the sky and the cold breeze that has settled amongst the trees, you would guess that it is quite late and you already know Jisung is going to question you when you get home.

Jungkook starts the car, and almost immediately you feel warmth on your hand. You look down; Jungkook has placed his hand on top of yours, his fingers curling around your own and his thumb stroking over the soft skin on your knuckles.

You don’t know what to say, just staring down at his hand as he strokes yours. It feels good! Way too good than it probably should feel on a first date, but nonetheless you don’t want him to let go!

It is then you notice something on his knuckles. You frown a little. Tattoos? When did those get there? And why had you not noticed them before?

Because you were too busy drooling over him, that’s why!

“I like your tattoos,” you break the silence in the car, deciding to compliment them instead of making a fool out of yourself for not noticing them and asking him when he got those.

His eyes flicker from you and down to his hand. He smiles warmly upon seeing familiar ink etched into his skin, “Thank you.”

You want to ask him more about it. Like what does it mean; ARMY, what does it stand for? Does he have a connection to the army? And what does the J above the M mean? And the crown? The small smiley face on his middle finger, what does that symbolize? You want to know more about it all, but before you even get the chance, Jungkook asks you if you have any tattoos.

Shaking your head, you sigh, “No,” you pout, “not yet anyway.”

Curious, he raises his brows, “You want one?”

“Yeah, I’ve always been really fascinated with tattoos and I’ve always wanted to get one, but I also don’t want to get one just to have one, you know,” you explain, “when I get a tattoo I want it to have a meaning.”

He nods along as you speak, keeping his eyes on the road but you know he is listening to every word you say.

“Do you have more tattoos than these?” You ask him, your other hand daring to reach over and brush across the letters on his knuckles.

Jungkook breaths sharply when he feels your touch, but he quickly composes himself. He stops at a red light, turning to you, his famous smirk appearing on his face before he speaks, “The entirety of my arm is covered.”

Your eyes practically turn to teacups, “Really?!”

“Mostly,” he laughs at your expression just as the light turns back to green and he begins driving again.

“Wow,” you whisper, your eyes traveling up his jacked covered arm as if trying to visualize what tattoos he might have under there.

Never in a million years would you have pegged him as a guy to have a full sleeve of tattoos. A few here and there, sure, but not a full sleeve.

But you can picture it clear as a day now that he has told you. You don’t think it would be just one design traveling the length of his arm. No, you bet he has multiple separate tattoos that all correspond with each other in some way or form. Maybe some writing of some kind, probably also something manly; like a skull or a snake. Maybe he even has a flower or two thrown in there? Perhaps a rose of some sort?

You are so lost in your own little world, picturing him without his jacket on – and shamelessly also without his shirt, but don’t tell anyone – trying to visualize what tattoos he might have, that you don’t even realize that he has already stopped the car outside of your apartment.

Disappointment washes over you in an instant! You don’t want the date to end yet! You want to keep talking to him and spending time with him.

Jungkook sees your pout. He does not blame you, if anything he feels the same way. It might be late in the night, but to him it is still way too early to end the date.

In the years he has been in the spotlight, never has he met anyone that does not know how he is or freak out in the slightest when meeting him. But meeting you was like a breath of fresh air for him! Like a completely new world he is ready to discover. Like a dream come true.

But he knows that the dream will inevitably turn to a nightmare at some point… there is no way around it, and truly he is the only one to blame for it. In a way he damns the day he first met you and the fact that he did not just tell you straight away who he was and what he did for a living.

No, instead he made up a handful of lies to be able to live a little while longer in this dream world of a bubble he has created for the two of you.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask Jungkook, seeing his somber expression as he stares down at your conjoined hands.

His down turned lips slowly rise to a smile and his thumb continues its stroking across the front of your hand, “I’m thinking that I don’t want to let you leave yet.”

“No?” you smile meeting his eyes.

He shakes his head, “No.”

“Then what do you want?”

A moment of purely electrifying tension passes before Jungkook slowly lowers his eyes to your lips, his tongue sneaking out to wet his bottom lip. You are captivated by the movement, your chest rising and falling.

“I want to kiss you again.”

Your breath hitches as you lean further towards him, “Please,” you breathe.

Releasing your hand, Jungkook cups the side of your face before smashing your lips together in a hot and messy kiss. This kiss is not like your first kiss. This kiss is much more intense, electrifying and… hot!

Leaning further over the middle console, you sneak your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with his hair, combing through it, tugging it, making him groan and you repeat the action just to draw another one from him.

You move with each other, teeth slashing together here and there but neither of you care, tongues dancing and breaths mixing like both of your lives depend on in. In this moment there is no one else in this world that exists.

Just Jungkook and you.

~ JISUNG POV ~

“Fucking Rose!” Jisung curses into the cold night air, kicking a random stone that is in his way, “Why does she have to be so fucking difficult?!”

He is talking to himself, loudly, anyone walking by would most likely think he is crazy, but after the night he has had, he thinks he might just be crazy.

Crazy to keep dealing with Rose’s fucking drama bullshit!

Speaking of the devil… he feels his phone vibrating in his back pocket. He does not even need to check the caller id to know who it is.

He already knows it is Rose!

He left her sitting at the bar he asked her to come to after you left to go out with June…

He knew it was a downright bad idea the moment he send her the message about meeting up, but he did not want to… essentially, dump her over the phone! He might be an asshole, but he knows right from wrong.

Rose had probably gotten her hopes up the minute the text rolled into her inbox, because Jisung never texts her except for when he wants sex, never, that is his rule! But when he asked her to meet up at a local bar, she probably thought it was because he was finally going to ask her to be his girlfriend.

But no.

He had it all planned in his head, he had even practiced it over and over again so he would not be sidetracked by her charms; aka her boobs!

He would go in, sit down at a table in the back where not many people would be able to see or hear them talking, he would wait for her to arrive – because knowing her, she would show up later than planned just to be sure she was making an entrance – then he would start out by saying that she is a great girl, that none of this is her fault – lie! Almost… – then he would lay it all out for he, give her the honest truth… that he is just not ready to settle down.

It might be only half the truth, but at least she would not be so hurt afterwards.

But no no… Rose had her own idea of how it would all go. Jisung practically had not gotten a single word in before she started ripping his head off, accusing him of being a complete asshole who only thought with his dick and that he should learn to appreciate what was right in front of him and how good she was for him.

He had been ready to agree with her, until she told him that she had slept with his collogues Seo Joon out of spite and to “get back at him”. He had kept his cool at the time, keeping his rising anger at a bay, only allowing it to come forwards after he left.

Admittedly, it did bug him a little bit that she had slept with someone else! All this time she had been going on about him sleeping with other girls and that it was an asshole move, and then she goes and does the same thing.

Maybe it is the face that he thought she was a sure thing to return to when his bed got cold? Or maybe he did not really think she would ever do it?

Out of spite and with a straight face, he had told her that Seo Joon could keep her and that she was not even that good in bed anyways.

That had been the tip of the iceberg for her, and she leaned across the table and slapped him across the face.

He deserved that one!

Eventually his phone stops vibrating in his pocket, but no sooner has it stopped does it start ringing again.

With a frustrated sigh, he answers, “What?!”

“You are a fucking asshole Jisung, you know that?!” Rose’s sharp voice cuts through the phone, ringing loudly in his ear.

“So I’ve been told a few times,” he replies cold.

Much more of this and he is going to lose his fucking head!

“Well prepare to hear it for the rest of your fucking life asshole, because you are! You’re a-“

“Is that all you called to tell me Rose?” he cuts her off, reaching the corner of his apartment building. All he wants right now is to be done with this so he can go to bed and sleep like any of this did not happen.

“No!” she practically screams, “I also called to tell you that you’re a goddamn fucking…”

He lets her trail off, biting his ear off, but he only pays half a mind to it when he notices a black car parked in front of the building with two people making out like horny teenagers inside.

Snickering, he has the urge to knock on the window and tell the couple to go get a room. That is until the girl in the passenger seat starts to look uncomfortably familiar.

That hair, the jacket… he knows the girl. Frowning, he steps a little closer, careful not to get caught by the two.

Oh, he definitely knows the her!

It’s ____!!!!!

Making out with some dude!!

“…you idiot fucking asshole! Now what do you have to say to that?” Jisung had almost forgotten that he was talking to Rose on the phone, too engrossed in the scene taking place in front of his eyes.

“I have to go,” he hangs up on her, stuffing away his phone.

____ is making out in a car with some random dude in the middle of the fucking night?! What the fuck?

Why would you lie to him about that? Why would you not just tell him that you had a date instead of him having to tease you about your obvious lying and then catching you practically dry humping in a car?

The guy turns in his seat, showing more of his face to him, and he too looks oddly familiar. Not familiar as in a oh I know you, we have hung out before, or in a we are friends way, but in a I have seen your face somewhere before way!

The dark blue tips of his hair catch the streetlight, an just like a switch being turned on, he realized just who the fuck you are sucking face with!!

“June my fucking ass…”

I’m really happy with how this chapter turned out!!! Arrggghhhh they finally kissed! Annnnd Jisung knows who Jungkook is, uhhh... I wonder how the next chapter is gonna turn out ;)

Remember if you enjoyed this chapter, please like and reblog! It helps me a lot, thank you!

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barnesandco · 4 years

Text

Nikah: March

Story Masterlist

Nikah: noun, Arabic, meaning the contract of marriage.

Bucky marries Peter’s former tutor because her student visa’s about to expire and the government isn’t granting her a green card. Can she find a way to permanent residence by marriage, and if so, will it be at the cost of their hearts?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None.

A/N: Written under the Arranged/Accidental Marriage trope for @mermaidxatxheart ‘s writing challenge. Thank you all for reading and commenting! (Picture below is mine, btw)

Bucky’s birthday arrives amidst blooming flowers and a pollen-scented breeze, the day marked by preparations for a party Sam is throwing for him at one of the hotels downtown. Avengers and close friends only, yet he’s spared no expense, insisting on a proper welcome back. The captain is unrelenting in matters of social activity, especially since he has been spending minimal time with his teammates since his marriage. Marriage. He shakes his head at himself in the floor length mirror as he straightens his cuff-links and moonlight catches on the gold band on his finger. It no longer feels like a burden.

Rather, it’s a seed that’s been planted on him, and it’s taken root inside him, growing, growing, growing into a steady feeling of friendship with the person he wears it for. An understanding, a companionship. He refuses to confess to anything more, even within the confines of his own mind. His heart, on the other hand, has no compunctions about making its opinion known, setting off like a hare being hunted whenever she approaches. Most dangerous assassin in the world, defeated by her smile.

She offers him one now when she enters, picture perfect elegance very nearly succeeding in concealing her nerves. Bucky’s nerves, meanwhile, are on fire at the sight of her, sensory overload short-circuiting his brain. He finally turns to look at her directly and the fox-hunt pace of his heart stumbles, stutters to a stop.

“You- you’re- jeepers,” Is all he can manage, the rosewater blush deepening on his cheeks. It has the opposite of the desired effect, and she steps back, mascaraed eyes widening, horrified.

“It’s too much, isn’t it. Oh God, I knew I should’ve-” She begins to reach for a tissue box on the dresser and Bucky stops her. Lowers her hand slowly and keeps a hold of it, as if she will float away otherwise.

“Jesus, doll, stop. You’re perfect,” He tells her, and she slips her hand away but smiles a little as she sits on the foot of the bed - their bed - to put on her shoes.

“Thank you. You look nice, too,” She says, lifting the hem of her black gown as she pulls on pearl white heels. The matching clutch - pearl encrusted - is on the bedside table, and he hands it to her as they leave the room and then the apartment.

“Hang on, your tie is loose,” She says the moment they enter the elevator. He can’t even press the button for the ground floor while she holds him in place. The split-second it takes for her to wrap her hands around the green silk and pull it tighter stretches into hours, the graze of her knuckles gentle in his cotton-covered chest. He has enough time to carve the shape of her cupid’s bow into his mind, the descent of her jaw to her chin into his lungs. After half an eternity, she puts distance between them again and presses the button while he tries to smooth his hair back only to feel the short strands tickle between his fingers, and he remembers cutting it last week.

The lobby is bustling, people coming and going like bees in a hive, and they nod their hellos and offer the doorman a Good evening before getting in the car Sam sent. The seats are cold and comfortable, and the chauffeur tips his hat once in the rear-view mirror before putting the Rolls Royce into gear.

“ ‘Possess ye, therefore, ye who borne about In chariots and sedans, know no fatigue’ ” She murmurs, letting her fingers trace the stitching in the butter-soft leather.

“Marlowe?” Bucky asks, turning away from the New York evening, that special, streetlights-reflecting-on-wet-asphalt evening, to look at his wife.

“William Cowper. The Task.”

“I think I’ve read that one,” He lies, fully prepared to come clean, and she looks at him curiously.

“Wow, really? Even I haven’t read all six books,” She says, dubiously verging on impressed, and Bucky drops the facade.

“I’m pullin’ your leg. I’ve read some of Cowper’s work. Don’t remember much, but bits and pieces of school are still there,” He explains, all cheeky smile. “What’s it about? And why in God’s good name is it six books long?” This - the conversation, letting her talk about her work, her passion for literature - this he can do. Playful questions intermingling with genuine intellectual interest is manageable. Her beauty, her grace, the cloud of perfume that bleeds into his veins and makes his lungs strive for air, is not. So he concentrates on what he knows. Or doesn’t know, apparently.

“Honestly, what isn’t The Task about?” She laughs, eyeshadow glimmering like stardust in the smile wrinkles in the corners of her intelligent eyes. “Cowper had a bit of a breakdown during his barrister training in London, and retired to the countryside. In 1781, he met his friend Lady Austen, who later gave him a task to write about, to cheer him up. He started, and then just followed that train of thought wherever it took him.”

“Which book is that line from?” Bucky asks as the car stops in the inevitable Friday night traffic jam. At least they accounted for it, leaving early on purpose to avoid tardiness.

“I don’t actually remember. I think it’s from an extract in which Cowper criticizes the superficial pleasures and unnecessary luxuries of city life,” She answers, opening her clutch. Her phone and a tube of lipstick peek out but she reaches deeper for a pair of earrings.

Closing her eyes, she fastens the first one on the side Bucky can’t see, the other crescent-moon shaped accessory in her silk draped lap. The flower made from pearls matches her bracelet, the two pieces of jewellery clinking together as she puts on the other one.

“City life, huh?” Bucky muses, trying desperately to calm his heart. The earrings dangle, contrasting wonderfully against her simple black gown, and he swallows. She looks like royalty.

“Yeah, many poets of the time wrote a lot about the beauty of nature. They had a lot more of it at their disposal, I guess,” She shrugs.

“Do you have any favorites?” “Nature poems? I don’t know. There are so many good ones. Wordsworth’s To the Cuckoo, Herrick’s Daffodils, Yeats’ Wild Swans at Coole, Tennyso-” She cuts herself off with a huff of a laugh at herself.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, no- I just-” She laughs again, trying to wave her hand like she’s shooing a fly. “I just have conflicting feelings about these poems by classical authors who write about nature. Poems that express a keen appreciation of beauty yet are fillled with sadness because so many beautiful things are short-lived and because human life itself is so short,” She says, twirling the ring around her finger, deep in thought. Bucky doesn’t know how he found her. This simple, wise soul, in the midst of all the chaos of the world. The chaos of resettlement.

The chaos of the kitchen, an hour before dinner as the Avengers prepare dinner together, is unholy. Sam’s panicking about dessert while Wanda stirs the marinara sauce for spaghetti in her signature demure fashion, while Peter’s pile of handmade spaghetti grows taller and the pasta dough shrinks. His phone lights up on the table, and Bucky - kneading more dough nearby - is the only one who notices. He calls for Peter and pushes it over to him, not knowing what the point of having a phone is if it’s always going to be on silent, but Peter holds it out to him after just a moment of conversation.

Bucky reads the caller ID on the top and sees who it is, closing the kitchen door behind him, flour on his black t-shirt, as she speaks.

“Hi, Bucky. I hope I’m not disturbing.”

“No, not at all. Have you decided?” He asks, pacing the hallway, staying out of sight of the others. Not that it matters, they’re still fairly busy. She had seemed unsure when they met, and he had given her time to decide it she wanted to do this.

“Yeah, but I just- this is a huge favor,” She says.

“Not to me, doll. I’m just helping a friend of a friend,” He says, and it isn’t entirely true. That isn’t why he’s doing this. Something in him wanted to help, wanted to repay the debt of kindness that he owes the world. This is how he wants to do it, although he doesn’t think it’s fair that he gets to choose his penance.

“I thought you said Peter talks your ears off.” Bucky cringes, grateful she can’t see his face, even though he can hear the joking lilt of her tone.

“He’s a good kid. And I want to do this. Do you?”

“Yeah.” A lengthy pause, heavy and tangible, even across the phone line.

“When do you want to get married?” She asks finallly, voice shaking. His hand is, too.

“We have a week-long mission right after Christmas. Boxing day arms deal in Sao Paulo,” He replies, cursing the Brazilian gangs who could find no other time do get up to no good. Evil doesn’t go on vacation, and neither do the Avengers.

“So… New Year’s Eve?” She asks, doing the math. He realizes that’s true. A week from Boxing Day.

“Yes. Shit, you don’t have a ring-” He begins to say, freaking out about the logistics. He didn’t even propose properly.

“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out.” “Alright, I’ll see you then.”

“Bye Bucky.”

“G’night.” He bids her farewell, then looks at the phone, asking himself what the hell he’s just gotten himself into. A knot builds and twists in his body, and he tries to loosen it. Breathes, and makes his way back.

“I’m engaged,” And the kitchen freezes in time as they all drop everything - not literally, Sam’s holding a knife - to look at him. The smile on Peter’s face is brighter than the Christmas tree in the adjacent common room, and the somersaults in Bucky’s stomach only settle at the sight of his relief.

It seems that his teammates gave him a later time on purpose, because they’re all ready, dressed to the nines and wine-tipsy, waiting for him when they enter. It’s a small ballroom, downtown Manhattan, quaint and graceful. A chorus of Happy Birthday erupts in the room, and he smiles and thanks them. The hugs pile on, and he begins to introduce his wife to his friends. Home away from home for the man who has never had one since the 1940s - until he met her, that is. She’s home now, though he wouldn’t tell her that.

Instead, he relishes in the grin she offers him between introductions, till Sam drags him off to stand him on a chair and sing a birthday song. The party commences in much a similar fashion, too much noise in the room for a couple of dozen people. He stays away from Thor’s alcohol, knowing she doesn’t drink, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

He’s just thinking about how she might be dealing with the hectic atmosphere when her hand slips into his while he’s talking to Harley Keener about letting him look at his arm. He’s shocked, looks at her to see her smiling and concentrating only on the conversation, but he can tell she’s tired. It’s been hours, and he knows he can’t leave early - it’s his party - but he just wants to slip those heels off her feet and sit and talk, still in partywear, for hours on end. Let her quote Byron and Cowper and Austen to him, poems and essays and books, until he falls asleep on their sofa. Instead, her voice says something he isn’t expecting at all.

“Is it possible to put some sort of temp regulation in it?” She asks curiously, head tilted to the side like a sparrow. Harley thinks it over for only a second.

“Of course, why?”

“It hurts in the cold. He rubs and rolls his shoulder a lot in the winter,” She answers, and the thoughtful observation astounds him. It’s accurate, but it hadn’t even occurred to him, the movements that she’s citing entirely subconscious. They talk to Harley for a while longer, and then dance to several of Bucky’s favorite songs. Billie Holliday is crooning in the background as the second-to-last guest exits, leaving only his wife and his captain and his deputy director. When the door shuts behind them, they break apart, and Sam and Maria approach, ready to call it a night.

The car ride home passes in complete silence, a comfortable weight resting like a blanket between them, so much so that she falls fully asleep on the way, her head resting against the cold window when they arrive. He doesn’t have the heart to wake her, so he goes around to her door, opening it slowly and lifting her into his arms, not caring what it might look like to onlookers. It’s late, and there are few of them, at least in the lobby, and as the elevator doors shut, her head curls against his shoulder, hair tickling his Adam’s apple.

Bucky looks down at her, her resting, easy expression, the chandni earrings still on, and thinks: what a way to turn 103.

Taglist: @suz-123 @mermaidxatxheart @buckyreaderrecs @shield-agent78 @corneliabarnes @readerandcinephileingeneral @stevieboyharrington @notsomellowmushroom @veganfangirl5 @mood-pancakes @lbuck121 @starnight-charmer

#ayesha writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #slow burn #bucky barnes x desi!reader #desi!reader

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