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oh-ranpo · 4 years

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like an ever-expanding universe.

pairing: owen joyner x reader an: so, this was sent as a request, but somehow I got out of control with it, so it ended up being longer than I expected it to be lmao I hope you enjoy! request: a pair of exes (let’s say hypothetically in the middle of filming season 5 of JatP and reader came in during season 2 as a new character and the actress is the same age as him/Savannah and they hit it off but eventually broke up) try to get the other jealous so they can get back together. disclaimer: also, I just wanted to say that in a relationship, communication is key, so while jealousy is fun to write and read about sometimes, we stan healthy relationships with open communication : ) word count: 3.5k+

“You should really just talk to him.”

You scowled at Savannah from where you were sitting at your vanity as you had been working on getting ready for the evening.

“Talk to him? After finding out that he was bringing a date? No, Savannah, I need to get even.” Savannah sighed as she shook her head and fixed her gaze on the phone in her hands.

“You two are going to drive me crazy.” You pretended that you didn’t hear her this time as you turned back to fixing your appearance. Either way, it didn’t matter what your friend said because your mind had already been made up.

When you found out that Owen wasn’t showing up to the cast party alone, you had been hurt. Sure, the two of you had broken up over a month ago, but you hadn’t been ready to move on yet, and the fact that he seemed to be took you by surprise. Your friends tried to tell you that it meant nothing, but you channeled your devastation into indignance and all you wanted to do was make him jealous enough that he could feel what you were feeling now.

Your relationship with Owen hadn’t always been so complicated. In fact, it used to be the best one you had ever experienced. When you landed a recurring role in season two of Julie and the Phantoms, you had immediately hit it off with the blonde drummer. There was a connection that you shared that everyone around you could see, and it surprised no one when you confessed your feelings for one another just a couple of months after meeting. Three years and three seasons of the show later, you had been sure that you had found The One.

And then, things managed to fall apart.

It wasn’t like anything dramatic had happened, and when you looked back on it, you weren’t even sure what had spurred the reaction. Just, one day, Owen said that he needed some time apart, and for some reason, you had agreed. You didn’t really want to break up, but you were still fairly confident that he was your person and you truly believed that he would make his way back to you. You were both young and it could be overwhelming when you felt so much for someone so early in life. You never doubted your feelings for him, however, and you thought the feeling was mutual… until you learned about her.

Charlie swore that he had nothing to do with it when he told you, but you also knew that it was one of his friends. You didn’t blame him, of course, but that also didn’t stop the hole that had formed in your chest over how beautiful she was. Just knowing how good her and Owen were going to look side-by-side made you feel even worse. She was the reason why you had decided to go all out in hopes of grabbing someone’s attention, most of all, Owen’s. It was dumb and childish, but you were sure that it was the only way to make you feel better.

Savannah didn’t bother you about your questionable plan again, however, by the time you were both ready to leave, you had started to lose confidence in yourself. You didn’t say anything to your friend though as you still continued to laugh and chat about the night ahead, carefully avoiding the topic of the boy that you were hoping to win back. And while you were on your way to Tori’s apartment with Savannah, Owen was having nerves of his own while getting ready in the apartment him and Charlie shared.

“Do you think this is going to work?” Owen asked his friend as he ran his fingers through his golden locks anxiously. Charlie gave him a look from where he was sitting on the couch. He had been ready for a while now, but he was still waiting on his friend to show up and for Owen to make up his mind.

“Do I think that you taking another girl to this party is going to help you get back together with a girl that you never should have broken up with in the first place? No. Absolutely not.”

Owen sighed as he leaned against the arm of the chair he was standing next to. He had thought about cancelling with Jamie for a few days now, but he couldn’t get himself to do it. He knew she was excited to go, and while he also knew that you were aware, and probably hurt by the knowledge, of his date, he had made a promise. A stupid, selfish promise, but a promise all the same.

He knew Charlie hated the whole thing, as he had told him multiple times, but when there was a knock at their door, they both knew that it was Jamie and there was no turning back now. As Owen started towards to the door to answer it, Charlie called his name and Owen looked back over his shoulder at the brunette on the couch.

“You better figure out a way to deal with this without hurting anyone any further. I’m serious, Owen.” It wasn’t often that Charlie got that look on his face, and Owen slowly nodded in understanding. He just wasn’t sure how he was going to manage pulling that off.

When he pulled open the door, Owen was greeted with a big smile from the brunette on the other side. He did his best to smile back, but now that all of this was really happening, he was more nervous than ever.

“Owen, you look great!” Jamie cooed as she stepped in through the door and pulled him into a hug. Owen quickly hugged her back and his eyes met Charlie’s over her shoulder. The stern look was still on his face and Owen swallowed roughly.

“Thanks, so do you.”

It was going to be a rough night, and really, he had no one to blame but himself.

x.x.x

Your eyes couldn’t help but search the room for his face as soon as you stepped into Tori’s apartment, but it quickly became clear that Owen was nowhere to be found.

“He’s on his way. Charlie just texted me,” Madison informed you when she saw the dejected look on your face. You felt silly that you were being so obvious about it, but you did your best to brush it off.

“Good for him. I think I’m going to go mingle a bit. See you later, Mads.” You didn’t look to see if Madison rolled her eyes like Savannah had earlier in the night before starting to make your rounds. You wanted to make sure you were having a good time when Owen finally did arrive.

There was a good mix of new and familiar faces, so you had plenty of conversation partners to choose from. You wished you could say you were so wrapped up in conversation that you didn’t notice when Owen walked through the door about half an hour later, but you always had a sixth sense when it came to him. You did try to ignore it though, as you moved a little closer to the cute new boy you had started talking to. You couldn’t quite remember his name at the moment, but that was a problem for another time.

You could hear his voice no matter where he was in the room, and while you tried to ignore it, you could tell that it was getting closer and you were having to fight every instinct you had not to look over at him. The only thing that helped you maintain your composure was the fact that every time Owen would speak, it was soon followed by a higher, more feminine voice that you were sure belonged to his date. The last thing you wanted while you were trying to work the room in a positive way was to be struck with the heartbreak you were sure to feel by seeing them together.

“YN, there you are!” Charlie called excitedly, pulling you out of your conversation with William? Or was this one David? Either way, you forced a smile onto your face as you turned to face your friend and cast mate.

“I’ve been standing in the same place all night, Charles, I can’t help it you’re oblivious,” you teased as he pulled you in for a hug, and a part of you wished that he would have remained oblivious for a little bit longer. You could tell that William, David, or whatever the cute boy’s name was, was about to ask you to dance. It would have been the perfect opening for you to try and make Owen jealous.

When Charlie hugged you, you glanced over his shoulder to see that Owen was standing not too far away, and while he probably should have been paying attention to the conversation that was happening around him, you were surprised to see that his gaze was fixed on you. He had a drink in his hand that was going ignored, and while his date was excitedly chatting with Madison and Jadah, he seemed to be ignoring them as well.

Slowly, you pulled out of Charlie’s arms, and with one glance in the direction you were previously looking, he immediately knew what was going on. You saw his shoulders deflate a bit out of the corner of your eye as he looked at his friend and then back to you.

“You two need to talk,” he stated, and you could hear the exasperation in his voice. It was similar to how Savannah had sounded earlier in the night, and you quickly turned so that your back was now to the blonde, and you gestured towards the boy that you had been talking to before Charlie walked over.

“Well, I was kind of in the middle of a conversation when you came over so… maybe later.” You weren’t being very mature about the situation at all, and while it looked like Charlie wanted to say so, he threw up his hands in surrender and then walked away. You didn’t mean to come off so harsh, but Owen had been the one to mess everything up, so reasonably or unreasonably, you thought that he should be the one to come fix it.

Another hour or so passed, and neither you nor Owen approached one another, instead opting for a delicate dance around each other, pretending that the other wasn’t there except to occasionally share a few glances. You were trying to keep your spirits up, but anyone you would hear his date’s voice, or you would notice that Owen was laughing at something she said, you could feel your heart break more and more. Your hopes in making him jealous were fading, and you were starting to truly realize what a stupid venture it had been in the first place.

Eventually, you broke away from the third cute boy conversation of the night to head to the bathroom. You needed a moment to yourself as you could feel your emotions starting to get the better of you, and you just needed to take a breath somewhere where you wouldn’t hear Owen’s, or his date’s, voice.

Once you made it to the bathroom, you closed and locked the door before turning to face the mirror as your hands gripped the edge of the countertop tightly. You took one, two, three deep breaths but the pain in your chest wasn’t subsiding. You took a good long look at yourself, and you wondered why you had been silly enough to think that, if Owen had broken up with you, he would suddenly want you back just because you put effort into how you looked for this one party. Your relationship had always been deeper than that, and that translated to your breakup as well. The breakup that you still didn’t understand. The breakup that you had never wanted to happen.

You didn’t know that, while you were having your breakdown in the bathroom, Owen was slowly falling apart in the middle of a room filled with people. He had been trying so hard to keep his cool all evening. However, from the moment he saw you when he stepped through the door, he knew this was all a horrible mistake. He should have cancelled with Jamie. Maybe he should have stayed home and not come to the party at all. He was overwhelmed with feelings and he didn’t know how to express them in a way that anyone else would understand. This heartache was all his fault, and it was something that he could have prevented entirely if he hadn’t been just so stupid.

“You should go talk to her,” Jamie murmured into his ear just a few seconds after you had disappeared down the hall. The words took him by surprise as he looked over at the girl that had come here as his date. “Whatever is going on between you two… I think it deserves a conversation.” Owen’s brow furrowed as he tried to piece together what was happening.

“I- I really don’t-“ he started, but Jamie stopped him with a small smile and a shake of her head.

“I think you do. I’ve seen the way you’ve been watching her all night – I mean, I would have to be blind not to – and I’ve also seen the longing looks she’s thrown your way as well. She’s been silently begging for you to say something, and believe me, I get it. I’ve been in a few complicated relationships before but… it doesn’t have to be complicated if you don’t want it to be. Just go talk to her.”

The guilt must have been evident on Owen’s face at her words because Jamie reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder as she gave him a genuine smile.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad. I could tell from the beginning that your heart was somewhere else. But you’re a good friend, Owen. I promise, there are no hard feelings.”

For a moment, Owen genuinely didn’t know what to say, but Jamie gave him a gentle shove towards the hall where you had just disappeared, urging him to do as she said. This time, he didn’t need her to say anything more. The bathroom door was the only one that was shut when Owen investigated the hall to try and find you, so he took a deep breath as he walked over to it before lifting his hand to knock.

Even though it was soft, you jumped at the sound and you quickly wiped at your eyes where tears had started to form, hoping to brush them away.

“I’ll be right out!” you called to the person on the other side, and you took one last deep breath before pulling the door open. You froze in the doorway when you came face-to-face with Owen, but it was clear from the look on his face that he wasn’t at all surprised to see you. “Oh, Owen.”

He looked nervous as his blue eyes studied you, and you could feel your heart pound hard in your chest at how close you were to one another. This was the first time you had actually said a word to him in a while, and even though he still hadn’t said a word back, you were sure now that he had sought you out on purpose.

“Can we talk?” he asked, confirming your previous thoughts. You nodded slowly, and he stepped to the side so that you could move into the hallway and then follow him farther down until you came to the doorway of the guest bedroom. He motioned for you to step inside, so that you could have some privacy you assumed, and you did just that as he closed the door behind you.

“Where’s your date?” you asked, your voice hard as the question left your lips. You had no idea what Owen’s intentions had been getting you alone, but the devastation from the entire situation was still sitting heavy in your chest, and it was hard to ignore.

“She’s, uh, she’s not really my date,” he replied, clearing his throat as he spoke. You could still hear the nervousness in his tone, and when you turned to face him again, he was rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, at least not anymore.”

Even more confusion washed over you as you stared at him, and he took a daring step closer to you.

“And why not? Did you decide you don’t have feelings for her too?” The words that were flowing from your lips now were completely fueled by the hurt that you had been harvesting over the past month, and while Owen flinched a bit at your tone, he didn’t get angry.

“That’s not- YN, that’s not why I ended things, and I hope you know that,” he murmured, his hand falling to his side as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I don’t know that. Honestly, Owen, I don’t even know what to believe at this point. I used to be… I used to be so sure that you were the one person I would always understand, and yet now, I feel like I barely even know who you are.” The tears had started to form behind your eyes again, and your voice got caught in your throat as you started to get choked up. Owen’s face fell at your words and you could tell they were affecting him too. Good, you thought. He needs to know.

After taking a deep breath, Owen began speaking again.

“When I told you that I needed space, it wasn’t… it was never because my feelings for you changed. At least, they didn’t change in the way you thought they did. They didn’t go away, and they didn’t get smaller… they got bigger. My feelings for you grew every single day for three years, and I thought that eventually I would reach the peak of them, but no. The things I felt, and still feel, for you were expanding like an ever-growing universe and it scared me. It scared the hell out of me because I’m only 20 years old, YN. This… this is adult, real-life stuff and I didn’t think that I was ready for that yet.”

A range of emotions washed over you as you took in his words, and you barely noticed how he moved closer to you as he spoke. It wasn’t until you could practically feel his breath fan across your face and his hand brushed against yours that you realized he was right in front of you. If you were to reach out, even an inch, you could feel him. All it would have taken was one small motion to confirm to yourself that this was all real. There was a short moment of silence that fell between you, and when he realized that you weren’t going to speak up, he continued.

“But the truth is, nothing has felt right since the day we broke up. I didn’t think I was ready for us, but really, I’ll never be ready for a world where there is no us. Seeing you here tonight and thinking that you were dressed up for someone else, and just knowing that you thought I was trying to replace you with someone else, I just…” He hesitated for a moment as he tried to think of the proper words to conclude with. “You don’t have to forgive me, because I would understand if you didn’t. But I need you to know that I love you, I have always loved you, and I will continue to love you whether we’re together or not.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as soon as he finished, and his lips turned up in a sad smile as his hand lifted quickly to wipe it away. It was an action that he couldn’t help himself from performing, and as soon as his fingers made contact with your skin, you leaned into his touch without hesitation. Even after the tear was gone, Owen’s thumb still brushed against your cheek as he seemed to be taking you in.

“I’m so sorry for putting you through this,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think I’ll always be sorry.”

You couldn’t take it anymore as you felt the full wave of relief and pure love fill you from his confession, and you leaned up onto your tiptoes so that you could close the distance between you as your lips crashed against his. Kissing Owen felt like coming home, and his reaction was immediate as he cupped your cheek with his hand and his other hand came around to rest against your lower back, pulling you closer. You probably should have apologized for how you had been acting as well, but you knew that you could do it later. Right now, you needed this, and it was clear that Owen did too.

“I love you too, Owen,” you mumbled against his lips when you pulled away a few seconds later. “Always have, always will.” Then, you were kissing him again, and all the sorrow from the evening, and the last month, was slowly lifted from your shoulders and you felt like you could breathe again.

tags: @crybabyddl @chrlsgillespie @calamitykaty @alexpjoyner

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catzula · 4 years

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Seven stages of falling in love.

Synopsis: You're afraid of needles and Bakugou is not the most suitable person that should be handling your shots for seven days.

Pairing: bakugou x reader

Warnings: cursing, I have no idea how long it is since it's written on my phone this time, probably a lot of errors

Genre: fluff, some tiny bit angst but a happy ending so no worries

A/N: I was on a 9-hour road trip and wrote this to keep me sane.

BTW 50 followers yaay!

Day 1

"What do you mean I need to get antibiotic shots for a week?!" You exclaimed, refusing to believe what you just heard. It was just a sore throat, or so you had thought. You never liked doctors, so you rarely saw one, but when your 'sore throat' lasted for a whole month, your friends literally forced you to go see one.

You knew it wasn't anything important, but maybe it would help to get a home rest for a day or two, giving you a little more time to binge anime study for that one exam that was coming up.

All your hopes and dreams died when you;

a) didn't get to have any home rest, cause apparently, you didn't have to stay home for a sore throat,

b) had to get shots for a week?!

This was why you hated doctors! You went in for a sore throat, hoping to get a home rest, and got what? A week of-

"It means what I just said." The doctor answered your question gruffly, making you send him a questioning look. Weren't the doctors supposed to be all nice and smiley? This one sure wasn't.

"I don't want to!" You whined, "Isn't there a pill or something I could take?" He sent you a look that could only mean, are you dumb or something?

But you couldn't care less about what he thought about you, though he was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen, all you were thinking about was doing whatever you could to not get any shots. "Is there no other way?" You asked, once again. This caused him to sigh loudly, turning his red eyes once again on you.

"No. You'll come here every day for a week to get shots, no pills, no nothing. Okay?" The harsh tone of his voice sent chills through your body, blood-red eyes of his made you wonder if they were real. "I- uh... Yeah, okay." You told him, feeling a little intimidated, though you wouldn't admit it if it killed you.

He turned his back to you while he prepared the syringe, giving you the perfect chance to look at him without being crushed under his crimson gaze.

His shoulders were so wide and his waist so narrow, it created the perfect triangle. You could see his the muscles of his arms flexing with every move, you almost felt unable to take your eyes off of his arms. But what stood out the most was his ash blonde, spiky hair. It defied the gravity in a way you had never seen before, and you just wanted to run your fingers through them, wondering if they were as hard as they looked.

He turned his face to you, you knew he noticed you staring, you could see that by the smirk he sent you, though he didn't comment on it.

You took deep breaths in, trying to calm yourself, though you could feel the blood draining from your face, your hands shaking ever so slightly. His brows furrowed, a look of slight frustration on his face. "You okay?"

You gulped, biting your lip. "I- I'm just..." you didn't want to admit you were scared of needles, not to him, but he did it for you. "You're scared."

You shrugged, still not admitting but not denying either. "You could say I'm not a fan." He rolled his eyes, looking at you as you were dumb. "Nobody is a fan." You could swear you heard him mumble, dumbass under his breath.

He pressed the base of the syringe slightly, testing it, not noticing or simply ignoring the look you had sent him. He rubbed alcohol on your arm, bringing the syringe closer. He was about to stick it when you couldn't stop yourself and gripped his wrist with all your might. Your hand couldn't wrap his wrist at all, and he could have ripped it free so easily, though he didn't.

"What the-"

"Wait!" You told him, not aware of what you were doing, your fear taking over. "Please don't? I don't- don't want... it."

"Come on, it doesn't hurt that much." He told you, feeling his frustration growing bigger with every second that past. He was Bakugou Katsuki, for fucks sake, he wasn't supposed to deal with little girls afraid of needles.

He was the number one of his class, he always was. He decided he wanted to be a doctor and save lives when he was so little, and he always had that dream in him. He worked so hard to achieve that, and now he was spending his summer as an intern in the best hospital of Japan, the hospital he always wanted to work at.

But this wasn't it! Ever since he started, they gave him small, insignificant things to do, like check-ups he was doing now. Sore throat? Who did they think he was, making him check sore throats and runny noses?

He felt so frustrated, he didn't notice you trembling like a leaf under his touch. Your eyes were so wide open, filled with pure fear, your under lip trembling, your hands gripped his wrist like it was your lifeline.

"I'm sorry-" you told him. "I just can't... can't stand needles."

He sighed, though he could feel his frustration disappearing slightly.

"That's fine, I guess." He told you, earning a hopeful glance from you. "Just look at me, nowhere else." That wasn't hard, was it? You couldn't take your eyes off of him anyways. You locked your eyes with his, noticing how oddly soothing his hard toned voice was.

"Listen to me, okay?" He told you. "My name's Bakugou. I went to UA Medical school, and this is my third year, 'm an intern here." You never would have guessed he was that young, only a year older than you, and he went to one of the hardest universities in Japan?

You never once looked away from his eyes, trying to forget the sharp object that was about to enter your skin. When he asked about you, you gulped, you were about to send a small glance at your arm, the one he was holding, but he gripped your chin with his free hand, not letting you look anywhere else, but his eyes.

"I- I'm Y/N." You whispered. "I'm going to ****, and I'm a second year." He nodded, and you smiled weakly.

"That's cool." He told you, "though not cooler than the fact that I finished your shot almost two minutes ago." A smug grin was now curving his lips.

"You what?!" You exclaimed, you looked at your arm, which now had a small band-aid. "You- you... how did you do that?" You asked him, smiling uncontrollably.

"A doctor never reveals his secrets." He told you, though you saw he had a small smile too.

You took your bag and coat, about to exit the room when you sent a small glance his way. "Thank you, doctor Bakugou. " You told him, earning a surprised look from him.

Nobody had ever thanked him this way before.

Day 2

"Hi," you stood at the door, not sure whether you should enter or just stay there.

"Why the hell are you standing there?" He asked you roughly. "Oh, uh, sorry." He shrugged, sipping his coffee. You could tell by the smell that it was pure poison, or in other words, espresso.

"Don't apologize and sit down already."

You sat down, feeling uncomfortable, though you weren't sure why. Maybe it was because you showed him your vulnerable side the day before? You weren't sure.

Your eyes wandered over his figure, he looked as handsome as he was the first time you saw him, or maybe even more? It shouldn't be allowed to be so handsome, you thought. And why did that white coat look so good on him?

Though he was aware of you watching his every move, he didn't want to say anything about it since he could feel your growing panic as he walked towards you with the syringe in his hands.

"We're doing it as we did it yesterday. "He told you, "You're looking at me, and me only." He smirked when he saw you nodding. "Good."

"Now, tell me, what are you studying?" He shook his head, genuinely looked interested as he listened you blabbering. "Why are you doing this?" You asked him. "Is it for the money?"

He shrugged, though he had a smirk on. "I'll tell you about that another day since you're good to go."

"No way!" You told him, looking at your arm, which was once again already stung, cleaned, and stuck with a cute little band-aid.

"You're the best. " You told him as you giggled, still not over the fact that he already gave you two shots without you even noticing.

"Of course I'm the fucking best." He told you, making you giggle once again. "Not sure you should be using that language around your patients, Doctor Bakugou."

He made a tch noise, turning his back to you. "Whatever, go complain to the administration or something." His voice was harder than you had ever heard from him, though to his surprise, you giggled as you walked to the door.

"Of course I'm not going to do that," you told him, smiling sweetly. "Don't expect me to complain about my favorite doctor."

With that, you left the room, leaving Bakugou once again struck with shock. Nobody ever told him he was their favorite doctor, on the contrary, people loved to complain about his angry behavior and foul mouth.

And though he would never accept it, he smiled ever so slightly, noticing a warm feeling spreading to his chest.

Day 3

"Hey, doctor." You entered the room, a big smile on your face that you didn't seem to have any control over.

"Hey." He answered, making you surprised. This was the first time he said 'hey' back. "I noticed you changed our appointment hours." It used to be in the morning but you had learned just today that he changed it to 13:00.

"Yeah." He answered, looking a little uncomfortable. "Why?" You asked further, but your eyes widened a little when you noticed his cheeks had a pink tint to them. "I fucking wanted to, okay?"

"Okay," you told him, laughingly. "I was just curious, you know?"

Nope, you weren't just curious. You wanted to know if it was because he had a date or something, and even though that didn't make any sense at all, you just couldn't help yourself.

What he didn't tell you was that he did change your appointments because of a girl, you. He switched your appointment to right before his lunch break so he could spend a little more time with you, though he couldn't even admit that himself.

"Don't be." He answered as you sat down. This time he had prepared the syringes before you came so that you wouldn't get anxious as he prepared them in front of you.

"That looks like a nice book." He told you as he rubbed your arm with alcohol. You were so stressed that you couldn't even understand what book he was referring to, not aware that you were holding the book in your hands for your dear life. "It's my favorite book." You answered, not looking away from his eyes. You could swear you saw his eyes in your dream last night.

"What's it about?" He asked, once again, looking genuinely interested. You loved talking about books, so much that people would sometimes ask you to stop. But he looked so interested, like he was actually listening, not because he had to, but he wanted to, you couldn't stop.

You started talking about this book, jumping to talk about another, then another. He joined you some time, you weren't really sure when. You started to talk about your favorite books, you talked about his favorite book, argued on one book that he liked, but you hated, did the same with a book you loved, and he didn't.

The conversation lasted so long, and you wouldn't have stopped if your phone hadn't ringed. "Oh, fuck." You mumbled under your breath, realizing you were in there for at least an hour and a half. "I'm so sorry, I lost control!" You told him, laughing nervously. Did you bore him to death?

"It's okay, I guess." He told you, his hand scratching the back of his neck. "You do talk too fucking much, but it wasn't necessarily bad. And it was actually my lunch break, so I won't get in trouble or shit."

"Oh, okay." You answered smiling once again. "I guess, I owe you lunch now."

You exited his room before you let him answer, you were afraid he was going to tell you to fuck off or something, though you had never thought he would agree, he was about to do just that before you sprinted out the room.

He realized only minutes after you exited that you left your 'favorite book' behind, only for him to read it.

Day 4

"Instant noodles?" He asked you, with a look on his face you couldn't quite interpret. It resembled something along the lines of trying to hold his laughter in and thinking you were the dumbest person on the earth.

"I did owe you lunch, you know." You told him.

"Yeah, I know, but I thought you meant something like a bagel or some shit, somewhere outside the hospital."

Thinking back, maybe instant noodles were a bad idea.

"How about tomorrow?" You asked. He shrugged, "Fine, whatever." He looked indifferent, but his pink-tinted cheeks told you he wasn't.

He shrugged, you noticed he did this a lot when he was uncomfortable, you also noticed how fast your heartbeat was every day you entered this room, and not because of the needles.

You noticed how, since the first day, you woke up feeling excited about seeing him. Thinking about what you were going to talk about that day, as you go about your day when something happened, you found yourself thinking about telling it to him the next day.

You noticed how your heart clenched, a dreadful feeling in your stomach, when you thought about the week was coming to an end.

You noticed you were starting to... fall in love with him.

You talked about this to your friends too, and they were more than aware of how your eyes glistened when you talked about him, how you smiled unintentionally.

And the problem was, that he was also aware of all these too. He saw how you looked at him, and he wasn't dumb, he knew what these meant, as well as the tightening in his chest.

You weren't the only one, waking up, excited to see each other. When Denki said something dumb, he thought about telling it to you the next day, he thought about what he could talk about with you to soothe you the next time you gripped his wrist, asking him to stop with teary eyes, he never ever wanted to see you looking that afraid ever again. Hell, he even looked at wikihow, how to calm someone down when they feel afraid, and he was about to be a doctor for God's sake.

It was scary for him, to be this vulnerable for someone, to care so much in such little time, such a foreign feeling taking over his sensible part.

He was about to say something else when he noticed your knee and the very poorly wrapped bandage over it, you had 'wrapped' the bandage like a shoelace and he never in his life saw something so horrible. He sent you a look that made your cheeks all red.

"What the fuck is this?" He asked you, opening the bandage in one quick motion. "Oh, I fell yesterday, nothing too serious."

"You dumbass," Bakugou mumbled as he looked at the wound closely. "Didn't you even clean it?" He asked angrily.

"I did!" You told him. "I mean, I tried to. But it hurts when I touch it..." He rolled his eyes as he took some stuff from the drawers. "Are you afraid of these too?" He asked sarcastically, not expecting an answer, but you did anyway.

"No." You answered as you pouted. "Just needles." He shook his head as he laughed softly. "And trees at night." You mumbled and he froze.

"You have to be kidding me!" He told you, he wasn't even treating the wound anymore, but just looking at you like he waited for you to say you were joking.

"Hey! You have to admit they have a scary side to them!"

"Trees at night?"

"Don’t laugh." You pouted. "They look all shadowy and like... they have long arms, open wide like they're about to catch you and never let you go."

"Oh my God," he groaned as he went on cleaning your wound. "That’s the dumbest thing I've heard." Though he thought it was the most adorable thing he heard too. A girl afraid of needles and trees at night.

The wound stung a little, but you didn't even feel it, you were thinking deeply about wanting to touch his hair. When he finished, your knee was wrapped nicely, and it didn't even hurt anymore.

"So, you never told me why you wanted to become a doctor." You told him as you recalled your chat the first day.

"Thought you would forget about that." He told you as you laughed. "Never."

"I wanted to save people, ever since I was a kid, I wanted to be a... hero, I guess." He told you, not even sure why he was telling you such a personal thing when almost no one knew this about him.

You couldn't stop the words tumbling down your lips. "I don't know about other people, but you're my hero."

Oh, shit. Your words led to a very awkward silence, and you thought you probably shouldn't have said that, though you meant every word.

"Thank you for that." He mumbled finally, causing your head to snap up and lock your eyes with his. You didn't expect him to thank you, at all, but now you just couldn't stop grinning.

"I feel like I'm getting over my fear." You said as you looked at the band-aid on your arm, the band-aid which, once again, miraculously appeared there. There was no way he could give you a shot, clean the small wound, and put a band-aid without you noticing at all! He was either a magician or you were in too deep.

"Yeah, seems like it." He told you, though he wasn't very enthusiastic about it.

You both ate your instant noodles in silence, I'm telling you, it's a bad idea to eat instant noodles with your crush, especially if its the first time you're eating together, and you just didn't know why his presence felt so distant and so awkward all of a sudden.

After you finished your noodles, oh my God why did that last that long? you grabbed your stuff, feeling a weird tug in your chest. "I think I should go."

His crimson eyes found yours, but you had no idea what he was thinking. "Okay."

"See you tomorrow?" You asked, but a grunt was your only answer.

Day 5

"What do you mean Doctor Bakugou has another patient?" You asked the receptionist. She looked at you like you were dumb. "He isn't available at the moment, miss. Doctor Kirishima will be looking after you today."

You didn't know who Kirishima was, but you knew you didn't want him to handle you.

"Can I maybe come later? When he's available?" You asked with the last piece of hope left in you. "I'm sorry, miss." She answered by not actually answering. You sighed as you looked at the red-haired man watching you with a smile. He looked like a nice guy, but he wasn't the reason you were here.

***

"Wow, " Kirishima rubbed his temples as he took a so from his coffee. "One patient really pushed me today."

"What?" Bakugou asked, his voice so stern, Kirishima's eyes narrowed as he looked at his friend. He was really moody lately, and Kirishima wasn't sure why.

"I had this one girl, apparently she was afraid of needles." Suddenly Bakugou's hand was gripping the glass he was holding it a little too hard. "I tried to convince her that it wasn't going to hurt, but she was crying so hard I don't think she even heard me."

"She was crying?" Bakugou's voice was nothing more than a whisper, he could feel how fast his heart was beating, and how tight the grip on his chest was. Kirishima had never seen his friend worry over someone, and he never thought he would either, but today he could sense something was up. "Well, yeah. Really hard. But it wasn't the crying that got me but more like... She was so afraid, genuinely terrified. Even after the whole thing, she kept looking at her arm and still looked scared."

Bakugou looked away, he didn't want to hear this anymore. "That must be tough."

Kirishima shrugged. "I felt bad."

That day, Bakugou left the hospital with an ache in his chest.

Day 6

You didn't want to go back to the hospital. You didn't. You were too scared.

You had thought you were over your fear, but obviously not. You could only stand them when... He was around.

The moment you thought about the spiky blonde hair and red eyes, you felt your chest tightening.

You entered the lobby, eyes instinctively going to the door that had his silver initials. Your heart fluttered in your chest, longing to see him, praying that he would be here. You walked to the receptionist. She was telling you the same thing she did yesterday -sorry ma'am, he's just not available- when the door opened, and the silhouette of a man you longed to see standing in the doorway with a cup of coffee in his hand.

A smile found its place on your lips as you started to walk towards him -the receptionist was trying to talk to you still, but who cares- feeling relief washing over you.

He was here! You felt so relieved having him here, not only because he could do your injection without you noticing -but you had to admit, that was an amazing skill right there- but also because you... trusted him. You trusted Bakugou so much, that you could open your heart to him. You loved how he listened to you when you were talking about nonsensical things, how angry of a person he was but actually so nice, how he told you he hated those 'dumbass' friends of his, desperately trying to conceal how much he loved them.

He didn't see you as you walked to him, his eyes on the paper he was holding in his hand. You were about to call his name when you heard your name being called, though it wasn't he who said it.

Your brows furrowed, eyes turning to ho was calling you. The doctor from the day before stood there next to you, with a smile plastered on his face, his hand touching your arm slightly, about to lead you to his office. "Miss Y/N, you're with me today."

Bakugou's eyes snapped up, finding you almost instantly as he heard your name being called. Realizing you were also looking at him, his crimson eyes widened a little. "But..." you started to tell Kirishima, but the guilt-stricken look Bakugou sent you that he tried to conceal told you everything you should know.

You felt like your heart that was just hammering your chest stopped, hurt spreading in your body. Bakugou wasn't coming to the appointments on purpose, avoiding you, trying to get rid of you.

Were you really that hard to deal with? He couldn't take it not even for a week? You thought about the chats you had and how much you laughed when you were near him, and your chest tightened. Maybe you just were talking too much. Or maybe, he just didn't want to deal with a girl who was afraid of needles.

You let Kirishima lead you to his office, trying not to look at the man that you just turned you back to.

Even though you avoided looking at him, Bakugou could see how hurt you were in your eyes. And as he watched you walk with Kirishima, concealing how afraid you were and how much your knees were shaking, he felt like the asshole everyone told him he was.

***

Bakugou went to Kirishima's office the second you left. "How was she?"

Kirishima sighed, taking a sip from his coffee as he watched his angry friend with curious eyes. "I don't know, man. It was just weird." Bakugou's eyes widened, his hand anxiously running through his hair. "What the fuck does that even mean, shitty-hair?!" Bakugou felt like he was going to punch his red-headed friend if he didn't give him straight answers now. And obviously, Kirishima was aware too.

"Woah, chill down. Why do you even care, Bakubro? Never saw you so interested in any of your patients." Bakugou gritted his teeth. It was true he never really cared for his patients, nothing else than their health. But it was different with you, he cared about you, and everything about you.

"Just answer the damn question already." Said Bakugou gruffly, avoiding to answer his question.

Kirishima shrugged. "It was weird." He repeated. "Yesterday she was crying, at one point she begged me not to do it. I don't think she's scared of the needle hurting him but more like the needle itself." Bakugou knew all of this, and he was going to punch him in the guts if Kirishima didn't get straight to the point. "But today she was silent."

Silent? He had never seen you silent.

"She was like a- a statue. Didn't even flinch when I stuck the needle in her, didn't cry, or said a word. She was just looking at the needle and my hand, genuinely terrified. I felt like I was stabbing her or something." Kirishima recalled the memory, and a chill went through him.

Bakugou wasn't very different either. Thinking you like that broke his heart. He could understand you crying, and he would still be mad at himself for letting you cry, but what Kirishima told him was something else. It almost made him afraid.

"Anyways, I don't know man, tomorrow's the last day anyway."

"Yeah." Bakugou mumbled as he tried to forget what Kirishima just told him.

***

Bakugou couldn't get the image of you frozen with fear out of his mind the whole day. He buried himself in his work, still not able to think about anything else but you.

He went home, exhausted.

He took a shower and ate something when he saw the book you had left for him to read laying on his dining table. Ignoring the tightening in his chest, he picked the book up, and he realized the book was the only thing that could make him stop thinking of you, even just for a second.

And as he read, nonstop, he could swear the trees he saw from his window were watching him, making him feel a little creeped out.

Hell, maybe trees at night were creepy after all.

Day 7

Bakugou was having a bad day.

First of all, he had read your favorite book the whole night, not getting any sleep whatsoever. He wasn't the type of man to stay up till night, he never liked to do so either, but he did just that. No cup of coffee was helping him either.

What was bothering him, though, was that you just wouldn't show up. It was almost the end of his lunch break, and you still weren't anywhere to be seen. He knew that because he had been asking the receptionist about you every 5 seconds for the last hour or so.

He sighed as he finished the last sentence of the last chapter, of the book he was so caught up on, and as on cue, you went in the doors as he closed the book.

Bakugou felt anxiety doubling the beating of his heart as he saw you talking to the receptionist. He started to walk to you, replaying the speech he had decided on the day before to talk to you. But as you lifted your head and your gaze found his, he forgot everything that was on his mind.

And awkward silence sneaked in between you both as he towered over you. "Uh, hey," Bakugou mumbled.

"Hey." You said. "Umm, where is doctor Kirishima?" Ouch, Bakugou thought. He knew you didn't do it on purpose but it hurt anyway. "He won't be with you today," Bakugou told you, you didn't know why he looked so tired today, but how did he still look so damn handsome? "I will."

Your eyes widened as you understood what he said relief and anxiety washing over you at the same time.

You didn't trust your voice to say anything, so you just nodded.

As you sat in his office, awkwardly tapping your fingers according to a rhythm, you didn't know he was trying to gather up the courage to apologize. You didn't even mean to come in today, but you just didn't want him to see you as a coward, even more so. So you anxiously eyed the room when your eyes found the book you had left. He saw you looking at your book that was on his desk, and he smiled. "I finished the book."

"Does that mean I can have it back now?" You asked, making him grimace. He expected you to shower him with questions, to talk about it, to hear your voice... but apparently not.

"Yeah- yeah sure." You took the book back, holding it so hard, your knuckles turned white.

Bakugou sighed. "I missed you, you know."

Your heart started to beat so fast you were glad you were at a hospital. "Well, that isn't my fault." Bakugou didn't want to, but he smiled nonetheless. "No, it's not, it was me being an asshole."

"Right." You answered cynically, earning an angry look from the explosive guy.

"And I thought it was... for the best." He went on.

"Oh, of course, what else could it be?" You just couldn't seem to hold your tongue back today, and he was aware of that too.

"Can you not make this any harder?" He finally said gruffly. "I'm trying to fucking say that I'm-" his eyes widened as he realized what he was saying, that he was apologizing. But for the first time in his life, it didn't feel necessarily wrong.

"That I'm sorry."

You didn't need him to explain why he did what right now, just hearing that he was sorry was enough for you, so you smiled. "It really hurt, you know?" You told him as he started to walk towards you.

"I know." He answered, "and I'm fucking sorry." His hands held your arms as if he was about to pull you into a tight hug. But it wasn't necessarily a hug he was pulling you into. "But I can make it up to you." He whispered as he leaned in.

"And how are you going to do that?" You asked, but those were the last words you said before feeling the soft lips pressing on yours.

Your hands went to his hair almost instinctively, and you smiled into the kiss as you felt how damn soft they were.

***

"Remember that bagel promise we had? We could either do that or I could keep kissing you." He told you, smirking when he realized how breathless you were.

"But what about the..." your voice trailed off when you noticed the small band-aid on your arm. "When did you even do this?!"

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pink-flame · 3 years

Text

Juke Bodyguard AU Pt.3

Here it is! The third and final part of the Juke Bodyguard AU inspired by your requests from the trope game. I reserve the right to do a standalone in this universe at some point but this wraps things up nicely for now. Enjoy!

Part 1

Part 2

Bodyguard AU + Love Confessor (Character A confessing their love for Character B to Character C)

Julie was used to change.

Bad change like when her mom got sick and she had to learn who she was when she couldn’t see it reflected back at her through her mother’s eyes. Bad change like when music felt like a stranger and everything she had ever wanted seemed suddenly pointless.

Good change like when she found her way back to it with a vengeance, Alex and her dad and Reggie and Carlos and Flynn refusing to give up until she started chasing her dream again. Good change like when against all odds those dreams actually started coming true, the record deal, and the hit albums and now her first national tour, a new city every night.

What she wasn’t used to was waiting for a change that didn’t seem to be coming.

She had been so sure after what she now internally referred to as “the flu incident” that things between her and Luke would change. That their vaguely flirty dynamic would transition naturally into more flu incident level expressions of affection and then a love confession, marriage and 2-3 obnoxiously good looking babies. Not right away on those last two or anything but still.

And yet here they were, three months and 24 shows later, and they were right back in vaguely flirty territory. Only she was finding it harder and harder to flirt back now that the realization that flirting was all it might ever be started to sink in.

And maybe that was the way it was supposed to be.

After all, he was her bodyguard. She was technically his boss.

She was a strong, independent woman with a thriving music career. She didn’t need some floppy haired boy to complete her life.

Didn’t stop her from wanting him though.

She didn’t bother to go to Alex for advice since he was firmly on what he had taken to calling “Team Juke”. Reggie wasn’t much better, asking her if Luke was there every time she called and never believing her when she told him she was alone. So she did what she always did when she needed someone to tell her the harsh truth.

She called Flynn.

“Look, girl, I haven’t met him but I’ve seen him on tv hovering behind you so I get it. He’s so your type. But he’s not real. He’s a fantasy you can get invested in because you know nothing will ever come of it.”

“It could,” She grumbled into the phone.

“Are you planning on confessing that you’re madly in love with him any time soon?” Flynn countered pointedly.

“I can’t,” Julie answered quickly. “Not when it’s so obvious he doesn’t feel the same.”

“Then he’ll always be a fantasy. He’s like air.”

Julie sighed.

“Cute air.”

“You wouldn’t have called me if you weren’t tired of feeling like this,” Flynn insisted. “I’m not going to let you get your heartbroken. And right now you’re on tour with Luke. So the key is avoiding those big, beautiful, dangerous eyes.”

And as much as the idea of avoiding Luke, eyes and all, seemed ridiculous when he was literally paid to follow her around, she knew she had to give it a try.

Because Flynn was right.

If she couldn’t have him then she couldn’t let him consume her life.

She was sure she would get a great song out of the situation one day but for now she just needed to pull back a little until she could see him as just a coworker she was friendly with. She could do that. Right? Of course she could. She was Julie Molina.

Only it was easier said than done.

Because Luke did not seem to take the hint.

She came stumbling off the stage after a particularly epic encore, vision blurry from the blinding lights, every muscle weak from hours of exertion, yet feeling incredible. At least she was feeling incredible until she tripped over her own unstable feet and Luke was right there, like he always was, to catch her. His hands latched onto her forearms gently, steadying her even as he grinned directly and dangerously into her eyes.

“You ok there, Boss?”

Julie managed a nod, the pounding of her heart combined with the still echoing roar of the crowd leaving his voice sounding far away and yet annoyingly clear.

“They were loving you out there,” He told her in that specific, Luke way. “You were amazing, Jules. Insane, spectacular, rad!”

This guy and his insistence on using slang from two decades ago. She definitely didn’t find that endearing.

She had to stick to the plan.

Julie ducked her head and pushed back from his grip gently at the same time.

“Thanks.”

She glanced up just long enough to see a confused and slightly hurt look on his face before she pushed past him and headed towards the green room, Alex falling into step next to her.

“Are we going to talk about why you just kicked that helpless puppy over there?” Alex asked.

Julie punched him in the arm.

“Keep your voice down, he’s right behind us! And that helpless puppy is literally the very capable bodyguard tasked with keeping me alive, so.”

“So you admit you kicked him,” Alex responded in a completely unhelpful manner.

“Ugh, shut up,” Julie groaned, glancing back and catching Luke’s eager eyes for a split second before quickly facing forward again. “I have a plan.”

“Flynn has a plan,” Alex corrected. “A stupid plan that she never would have suggested if she had seen for herself how crazy he is about you.”

“Has he said that?” She turned her head towards her best friend sharply.

Alex tilted his head.

“Not in so many words but Julie…”

“Then we stick to the plan.” She interrupted determinedly.

Alex sighed.

“Idiots, I’m surrounded by idiots.”

A couple of weeks later, Julie was starting to think he was right.

She had been doing her best to keep her relationship with Luke strictly business and it was somehow more exhausting than the two shows a week and all the time spent trying to sleep in a tour bus cot. She pretended to be busy when he offered to work on a song. She said she was tired when he tried to get her to join him for a beer with the roadies. She pretended she didn’t see him trying to catch her eye during the thousand little moments during the day when she had grown used to making eye contact with him to laugh at something Alex had said or roll their eyes when her manager tried to talk her into something completely dumb.

It was exhausting.

And the thing was it wasn’t even working.

Because every sad, kicked puppy look (as Alex called it) he gave her only left her more distracted and in more emotional turmoil. Part of her was a little mad at him. How dare he look so hurt that she wasn’t playing their usual game when he clearly didn’t want anything more? She wasn’t just a convenient outlet for his excessive flirting energy. But mostly she was just mad at herself for thinking that this ludicrous plan could ever work.

She had thought he was trouble since the moment she met him.

And she was definitely in trouble now.

It was the night of the last show of the tour and they were back in LA to finish things off. Flynn was too sick to come (ironically she thought she had the flu) but Julie’s family were out there in the VIP section. Even Reggie had come down from San Francisco to catch the show.

Julie was feeling oddly nervous for some reason. She had grown up dreaming of playing the Orpheum. It was the smallest venue she was playing on the whole tour, her manager had tried to talk her out of it, but she had insisted it was the Orpheum or nothing. Reggie and Alex had taken her to so many shows there when she was a teenager, it’s where she had discovered rock. Somehow even after everything she knew it wouldn’t fully feel like she’d achieved her dreams until she played there. It was time. Only she had finally made it there and she felt like she was going to throw up.

She wanted desperately to seek Luke out so he could tell some dumb joke to distract her or give her one of his borderline too intense pep talks. But she wasn’t doing that anymore. In fact she had insisted he go take his break now before the show, promising not to leave her green room just to keep herself from giving in to the urge.

“You doing alright there, Jules? You look kind of green.”

Julie spun on her heels and barreled directly into her big brother’s arms.

“Oof!” He huffed as she knocked the air from his lungs, his arms still coming up to wrap around her despite his shock. “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” She told him, her voice muffled as she buried her face against his chest. “It’s just that it’s the Orpheum and you know what that means to me, and the whole family is here to see me play and I’m so nervous and I’m missing Mom and I’m totally in love with my dumb bodyguard.”

Reggie pushed her back by the shoulders until he could see her blotchy face.

He reached up to ruffle her hair affectionately.

“First of all, Flynn and I totally called it,” He said with a smirk. “And Alex swears the two of you have taken ten years off of his life with your stupidity.”

“Alex talks too much,” Julie grumbled. “And Flynn is the one who told me to stay away from his annoyingly pretty eyes to begin with.”

“That’s only because she wants you to be happy. So do I by the way. And this?” He waved his hand to indicate her current state. “I hate to break it to you, Jules, but this isn’t happy.”

Julie sighed as her shoulders sagged and all of the fight went out of her at once.

“I know,” She said defeatedly. “But what am I supposed to do? I can’t force my feelings on the guy especially when I’m his boss. That’s creepy on top of being pathetic.”

“Funny,” Alex broke in from the doorway. “That’s exactly what he just said to me.”

Julie just gaped at him for a few long seconds while Reggie and Alex exchanged amused yet exasperated looks.

“Wait...what did he say exactly?” Julie finally managed to get out.

Alex rolled his eyes.

“Oh you know, ‘What did I do? Why is Julie mad at me? I’m so in love with her do you think she figured it out? Did I come off as a creep? Do you think she’ll have my babies?’”

Julie felt her mouth drop open.

“Dude!” Reggie protested.

“Ok, so the last part was more implied than said directly,” Alex admitted.

“But he said he loves me?” Julie asked hurriedly.

“Yeah,” Alex confirmed. “I’ve been telling you he does for months by the way, but nobody listens to me.”

Julie ignored her best friend’s statement and sprinted for the door.

“Where are you going?” Reggie called after her.

“You go on in ten!” Alex added frantically.

“I’ll make it!” She shouted back without slowing down.

She ran down the hallway, dodging makeup artists and promoters and so many people she’d wanted to impress just a few minutes before. There was only one person she wanted to see at that moment.

Julie kept going until she found the exit that led to the alley outside and burst through it. Luke felt caged in if he was inside for too long, something about living in a garage for a year as a teen. He stuck by her side and did his job perfectly but any chance he got she knew he could be found breathing in the fresh air and feeling like his lungs could fully expand. Sure enough, there he was, leaning against the probably filthy wall humming some song that she knew would be amazing if he ever really gave it life.

He stood straight and took two steps towards her as soon as she emerged from the door, a look of concern immediately taking over his features.

“Julie? What are you doing out here? You’re about to go on…”

She closed the distance between them and stopped just a half step closer than she normally would, her sudden proximity shutting him up for a moment.

She just looked up at him for a few seconds, just to enjoy it after weeks of denying herself. He broke the eye contact first, chuckling awkwardly as he looked down briefly.

“What?”

“Can you do me a favor?” She asked seriously.

He answered instantly.

“Anything, Julie, you know that.”

“Tell me what you just told Alex.”

His face drained of color, almost ghost like in appearance.

“He promised he wouldn’t say anything,” He mumbled.

Julie shrugged.

“He probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t walked in on me telling my brother pretty much the same thing.”

Luke’s eyes widened comically as he took in her words.

“You told your brother that I did something to make you hate me and that I don't know what it is and it’s eating me up inside?” He asked in confusion.

“I told him I love you,” She said bluntly, all the bravery she had inherited from her mom giving her the nerve. “And that I’ve been trying to distance myself from you because I didn’t think you felt the same.”

“That’s...that’s...Jules, that’s crazy!” He exclaimed, bouncing a little to emphasize his words. “I’m head over heels, crazy in love with you. Always have been.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked softly, managing to step even closer to him.

His eyes softened as he reached down to tuck one of her curls behind her ear.

“Because you’re my boss, and you’re totally out of my league. You’re this super talented, total force of nature. I mean you’re Julie Molina and I’m…”

“A big fan?” Julie interrupted, raising one eyebrow teasingly.

Luke froze.

“How did you…”

“I’ve been in your apartment, remember? When you had the flu I snooped a little. Sorry. The fact that you have my first album on vinyl is one thing but to have a cd of my first EP is really impressive. I didn’t know hard copies of that still existed…”

Like groaned.

“Ok, ok. You got me. I didn’t want you to think I was a pathetic fanboy, alright?”

Julie grinned.

“Isn’t that what you are?”

Luke smiled softly down at her, brushing the back of two fingers over her cheek.”

“Only for you, Boss.”

Julie instinctively stretched onto her toes, raising her face towards his, her eyes starting to flutter shut…

BANG

They sprang apart and spun to face Alex who had just emerged breathing heavily into the doorway behind them.

“You know no one is more Team Juke than I am but Julie you are going on in 2 minutes!”

“Oh crap,” Julie said. “I’m coming.”

Alex shot her a skeptical look.

Julie glared at him until he sighed and disappeared back inside.

“Team Juke?” Luke asked.

Julie giggled, already backing towards the door.

“Don’t ask. I’ve got to go but later we should talk about your future with the company.”

Luke’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’re firing me?”

Julie grinned.

“Well, I think we both might find your current duties a little too distracting. I think I need a stoic, middle aged man built like a linebacker. But we’ve been looking to hire a new songwriter to help me with the next album if you know anyone who might be interested.”

Luke grinned back.

“I might.”

He bit his lip and stared after her with those big, beautiful, dangerous eyes.

He was such trouble.

Julie ran back to him wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning up to a plant a quick kiss on his lips, pulling back before he could fully register what she was doing.

“Hold that thought,” She whispered with a smile before turning and running back through the door and towards the second dream come true of the night.

She was Julie Molina. She was about to play the Orpheum. She was in love with her bodyguard.

She was in trouble and she couldn’t be happier about it.

#trope prompt game #my fics #juke #jatp #fanfiction #writing

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blank-space-daisy13 · 3 years

Text

Why I won’t invite my biological father to my wedding.

I wanted to post this on Instagram or Facebook but I don’t want to deal with people saying I’m “drama.” But I wanted to write this out just in case someone is ballsy enough to ask me.

Let’s start off with the fact that after he got with my step mom, he wasn’t really around. He also never really cared or tried to take care of us (my brother and me) unless he absolutely had to.

Before my step mom and when we still lived in the apartment, On nights he had us my mom would drop us off already fed, he’d turn the tv on and go play on his computer until we had to go to bed. If he had us on a weekend, same thing. We’d wake up and he’d feed us breakfast, then tv with him in his room on the computer, lunch, tv, dinner, tv, and bed. When we moved from the apartment we stayed at his buddy’s house where he rented a room but guess what? He’d send us down to the basement all day to watch tv, and let us up for meals.

When my stepmom came into the picture, we started going to Canada. On every single one of his weekends. She was nice, at first. Sooner or later everyone shows their true colors. But she started slowly to get a hold of my dad. (My dad had no boundaries with us and she wanted to “help” my dad learn to discipline, but she’s a little extreme.) I once got punished for saying the word “butt” because we only say, “bum” and he yelled at me. Yelled. I was about 7 or 8. Then I heard my future step mother telling him how good he did. Also while we were there, I remember very few times we actually hung out with my dad. It was always being shoved into the playroom with my brother, future stepsister, and sometimes future stepbrother. (Step mom never had full custody of stepbrother.) We’d never leave the playroom other than for meals like the TV. But at least we weren’t rotting our brains, I guess.

After awhile he decided he wanted 50/50 custody. My stepmom at this point could be brutal emotionally. I remember getting yelled at for not knowing any of my immediate family member’s birthdays. I was about 8 or 9. Kind of shitty don’t you think? Going back to the wanting 50/50 custody, he didn’t actually want us. Looking back I understand this now. He just didn’t want to pay as much child support, and that’s probably the only reason my step mom agreed to this. They treated us (my brother and i) horribly. He moved close to my mom’s to prove he’d be willing to do the 50/50 custody, and at that point it was hell. If we did something wrong, immediately we’d get soap in the mouth. My brother later on was getting hot sauce. It would be for things such as, “not sharing with your step sister,” (which she would’ve lied about) or “talking back,” when as a kid I was asking a simple question about their rules. They had so many rules to the point you didn’t realize you were breaking a rule until they told you it was one. My *fondest* memory was when they’d send us kids to the basement for a few hours during the weekend and then got mad when we went through boxes and such to find toys to play with. Because when they first sent us down there, they sent us down there with nothing at all. Sure we probably shouldn’t have gone through boxes, where my brother and I found our toys that they never put with our step sister’s toys, but they sent us down there with nothing at all. They expected us to “imagine” things with no toys. I also got yelled at one weekend because they asked us to clean our bathrooms. (Step sister and I shared a Jack and Jill bathroom and my brother had his own bathroom as well.) We went and picked things up and went back to play. They both yelled at us and said, “If I had meant pick up I would’ve said pick up. I said CLEAN.” At this point I had never cleaned a bathroom in my life. They gave us the cleaning supplies and we went to work. I did what I thought was the best I could do and then my stepmom yells at me, “That wasn’t nearly long enough!!!! Haven’t you ever cleaned a bathroom before?!” Uh no ma’am, I was literally 10. But that was her favorite way to make us feel like shit. To yell, “Haven’t you done XY&Z before?” Or “You don’t know (blank)?! So disrespectful! You should know these things!” (That was said about the birthdays. Again I was a decently young kid.) But going forward, towards the end of them living there, they had a baby together, my other brother J.

Luckily for my brother and I, he eventually gave up going for the 50/50 custody. But with doing this, he left and we didn’t see him for a long time. 5-6 years approximately. I was 15 when he decided he wanted to see us again, and because of everything we had gone through before, we didn’t want to. I had a choice but my brother didn’t, and I was forced to go.

At this point he had married my stepmother, and was living in the same subdivision, and one road away, where had had a house with my mom when they were married. Kind of awkward but ok.

And I have to say, they were better. To a point. They wanted us to feel bad that we didn’t want to be there. At the time I had a really old phone, not a smart phone, that didn’t lock, but they expected my phone to be on the counter at 9pm every night. They read my texts and held them against me, but when I called them out on reading my texts, they told me I was crazy. I would text my friends that I didn’t want to be there, and that I was uncomfortable. They asked me, “Why don’t you want to be here? Why are you uncomfortable? We understand what we did in the past was wrong, but the past is the past and you have to forgive us!” (One wrong thing I was always taught was you always have to forgive. You don’t always have to forgive for things that hurt you.) Finally at the end of this period, they sat us down and tried to make us feel bad by saying, “If you don’t want to be here, we don’t want you here. We want you to want to be here.” At 15 I tried to explain why this was hard, but they didn’t care. It wasn’t their way so they weren’t ok with it.

Fast forward to my Senior Year of high school, I don’t remember how, but my father and I got in touch. My step mom wanted nothing to do with me because of a dumb YouTube video I made at 14 where I “talked shit” about her daughter and herself. Yes, I did, but who didn’t do something dumb at 14? I wasn’t allowed around their house because HER son had a “drug problem.” (Marijuana) Whatever, I didn’t care. Slowly we lost touch because I was the only one calling, and I got sick of it. I was done. But I was still young.

Fast forward to me being a sophomore in college. I was 20 or 21. My brother had an issue that got the police and CPS involved. My father decided to text me and ask me what was going on. I called him and told him that he had “no fucking reason to know what was going on” because he was never around. He gaslighted me into feeling bad because I cussed him out for 10 minutes. But we kept contact after that because I had thought about it and I wanted to get to know my little brother J more. We did lose contact again but then we gain it back later on.

Skip forward a couple years and I’m talking to my cousin, (another thing was he kept us from his side of the family and I had lost contact with most of them until I was an adult.) my cousin told me he was going to MY little BABY sister’s 1st birthday. My father had been talking to me for a few months at this point and NEVER mentioned I had a baby sister. He told me, “I thought your aunt posted about it. I saw it on Facebook and assumed you knew!” It doesn’t matter whether I saw it on Facebook or not. He should’ve told me. But whatever, I let that go too.

Here is where I get frustrated. I wouldn’t call for a couple weeks because I didn’t think about it. I’ve only seen him twice in the past 9 years. But he would blame me for us not talking, when he’d never call or try to talk to me. It drives me crazy when people think like that. It’s not just my responsibility and mine alone.

Skip forward to a few months ago when he brought up politics. I hated this because I’m mostly liberal/democrat and he’s 100% republican. He called liberals “libtards” and goes, “you’re not a libtard are you?” And when I tell him it’s offensive he says, “It’s just a joke!” But now we’re here and yet again it’s been 2 or 3 months since we’ve spoken because he’s blocked my number. It goes straight to voicemail and my texts aren’t going through as iMessages. I’ve decided after trying for over two months, he’s uninvited to the wedding. He’s never met my fiancé, ever. We were only inviting him to be civil. But if he can’t even speak to me, I feel it’s not my problem, and it’s one less drama issue to worry about at the wedding.

My family can believe what they want. There are so many things left out of this 15 year drama circle of my father just disappearing. And I don’t care anymore. I hope someone asks why he wasn’t invited because I know for a fact he’ll be at least telling the whole family that he wasn’t invited. And I don’t mind sending them this so they can know why.

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

Text

I hate it when you stare

Wow here I am with another part, another fic. Ignooooree my typooos. Is this more soft smut? No one told me last time if what I wrote counts so uhhhhhhh

Read the whole series: I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

I really do have work to do for my class at 2:30 tomorrow but instead I finished this, so I hope you like this!

_______________________

“How is it bullshit? Everyone can tell that we’re in love with each other.”

“So, what, because other people believe it, that automatically means it’s true?”

--------------

Evelina was visiting home for the weekend for her mom’s birthday, which meant that you had the apartment to yourself. From Friday after work until Sunday night, you were free to do whatever you wanted by yourself. Or, you thought you were going to be doing whatever you wanted until your boss texted you saying that he wanted your project finished by Monday so you could present it that afternoon. That meant you were posted up on the couch, your hair tied in a bun on top of your head, a mug full of coffee, another of tea, and a cup with water all in front of you, the blanket normally on the back of your couch now draped over your shoulders. It was a full call to the hungover days you had back in undergrad when you woke up late and were struggling to finish the work you had due the next morning.

“It’s me!” you hear a familiar voice call from the door, snapping you out of what might have been the first and only roll you had been on working on the project.

You look up to see Matthew coming over the couch, plastic bags in hand to plop down on the table. “Remind me to change the locks.”

“That would mean you have to get up to let me in, though,” he sends a wink in your direction.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him, even though you felt butterflies throughout your entire body at the sight of him looking so comfortable next to you. It was just because he’s a guy, not because it’s Matthew. You let out a quiet sigh as he fiddles with the remote to your TV. “Who says I wouldn’t leave you in the hallway? Plus, I thought you were supposed to have practice today?” you ask, trying to focus more on your project than on him.

“We’re done, and we don’t have a game for three days for once, so we’re resting up. I figured, why not come see my favorite girl?” he says, resting his hand on your shin once your drape your legs over his lap.

“Because Taryn is in St. Louis so you settled for me instead?”

He scoffs, slowly running his hand up and down your bare leg while his eyes fixate on the television screen. He had to be able to feel the goosebumps that he was causing with his touch. “Fine, my favorite girl in Calgary unless Taryn is visiting, are you happy?”

“Am I ever happy when I’m around you?” you tease, lifting only your eyes from your screen to look at him. Still staring at the TV, you can see the smile on his face, but it almost looks like his jaw is clenching, like he’s fighting saying something back.

“And how could I not be happy around you when you treat me like that?” Your eyes linger for a second on his smile before scanning the rest of his body. Even under the long-sleeved dry fit shirt he was wearing, you could see the outline of the muscles that graced his abdomen. His arms looked like they were begging to rip the seam of the shirt, and you wanted nothing more than to take it off of him and just let them free. “Do you like what you see, babe?” you hear him say, snapping you out of the thoughts you were convincing yourself meant nothing as he was looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m trying to picture you as a more attractive guy,” you lie, “It would be so nice if Elias were here, wouldn’t it?”

“If you’re implying that you want a threesome, then I don’t think I could do it with a teammate,” he laughs, his fingers tightening around your shin. Would Elias be better than Matthew? Any guy would be better than Matthew, you tell yourself. He’s your best friend, and nothing more.

“What have I said about being crude?” you ask him, fixating your eyes on the way he’s biting his bottom lip. “I think I’m gonna go get my headphones so I can do this project.” You bolt from the living room to your bedroom, leaving Matthew there by himself while you search for your phone in a panic.

“Hey, is everything ok?” Evelina says on the other end of the phone call as you try to search for your AirPods in the mess that was your room.

“No, Matthew is here.”

“And that’s bad because?” she asks, drawing out her last word.

Groaning, you drop your phone on your desk, prompting Matthew to call to you asking if you were ok. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” Turning back to Evelina, clearly in a panic that she could hear in your voice, “Matthew is here and I think I’m horny.”

“You’re always horny for him because you’re in love with him.”

“I’m not in love with him and I’m honry because I haven’t been touched by a man in like, three months. It’s starvation.”

You hear her groan on the other end, her parents voices in the background. “Hold on, I need to go into another room,” she says. “Ok, so you really told me two days when you got home that you and Matthew nearly fucked in public in the liquor store. You have been touched by a man. He was also practically feeling you up at the bar a week ago, might I remind you.”

“I don’t love him,” you say, unprompted, “And he never even kissed me.”

“Says that hickey that you somehow didn’t notice he gave you?” she says, you turning to your mirror to touch the mark she was talking about. You honestly didn’t know it was there until she said something to you when you walked in the door. “If you don’t love him, why don’t you just tell him to leave?”

“I want company and he’s the only thing I have when you aren’t here. Really, this is all your fault.”

“That was so sweet until you blamed me. If you don’t want him to leave then what’s the problem?”

“Horny,” you say at the same time. “Either do something about it or control yourself, babe, but I’ve gotta go. Miss you, love you,” she says, hanging up when you finally find your AirPods.

Pulling up your playlist so it’s already playing when you get to Matthew, you don’t even look at him as you take your computer back in your lap and throw your legs in his. You can feel his eyes tracing the outline of your body even under the baggy sweatshirt you had on from a college you never went to.

You had worked for what was probably a solid half hour, Matthew mindlessly rubbing his hand on your leg like he did before, you needing to do everything in your power to stop from thinking about and wanting more. You were interrupted by Matthew reaching over and tugging on the hem of your shorts. “Are you really listening to Christmas music right now?”

“Is it that loud?” you ask, turning the volume down immediately.

“No, I can read your lips. You were mouthing ‘Feliz Navidad,’ and ‘Sleigh Ride.’”

“Oh, then, yes,” your cheeks flushed with embarrassment that you didn’t even realize you were doing that.

“It’s March, babe.”

“Ok, but Christmas music is fine year round.”

“No?” he questions.

“So I’m going to tell you why you’re wrong,” you start, moving your computer to the table so you don’t drop it, provoking a laugh to escape from his lips, “While I don’t agree with all things in Catholic and the broader Christian doctrine, there are things I can agree with basically because they are up for interpretation, so I interpret them in the way I like. Take, for example, the ninth commandment: love thy neighbor. Some people take it as a literal ‘love thy neighbor’ as in ‘be a good neighbor,’ to the ones who live next door, but I think it’s a matter of caring for those around you, neighbor not being the person immediately next to you wherever you live, but just other people in general.”

“What is your point?” he asks, a devilish grin spread across his face.

“My point is that the Bible, which is the end all be all of Catholic doctrine according to some people, is up for interpretation and people use it the way that benefits them, no matter how wrong they normally are. In Hebrews 13:15, it says, “Through him let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name,” thereby, justifying and promoting listening to Christmas music year round. It praises Jesus, who is one of the persons that make up God, and doing year round is continuous.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Hey, if people can be assholes and use a 2,000 year old book to try to wrongly justify their bigotry and homophobia, why can’t I use it to rightly justify my listening to christmas music all year?”

“Are you Catholic?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn about it and keep the things that I like with me. I’m not Jesuit but I follow their ideals like ‘care for the whole person’ and ‘be a man or woman with and for other.’ And Evelina’s parents are very religious, so we kind of put up a front whenever they visit to please them. They still think we go to Mass every Sunday.”

“Is that why there’s sometimes a crucifix by the door?” he asks, you nodding along. “And that weird Jesus magnet where he has a chefs hat and it says ‘fish and bread are served’ underneath him?”

“Yeah, I think her dad superglued that to the fridge because no matter how many times we’ve tried to get it off it won’t budge. Plus it’s a reference to another Bible passage.”

“I went to a Catholic high school, remember? I already knew that.�� You can’t help but return the smile he was sending your way, this time your eyes flicking down to his lips, you unsure if his were doing the same. You snap out of it, biting your lip and making eye contact with Matthew, both of you breathing slightly unevenly at just thinking about what you could do with each other. Was Evelina right that you two loved each other?

No, she couldn’t be right, because you didn’t love him. You pick your computer back up to get back to work, not saying another word as Matthew turned back to the TV. You hit a deadend, finding yourself back to staring at Matthew’s perfect face while his eyes narrowed and a small smirk formed on his lips at something funny on whatever movie or show he was watching.

“Ugh, fuck,” you groan, Matthew’s head snapping to your direction as you cover your face with your hands. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

He reaches over and pulls your hands from your face, intertwining his fingers in yours. “Take a break, I brought food for us.”

“You didn’t cook it yourself, did you?” you ask. The last time he had made food for you, you were sick for a week from what you’re sure was food poisoning from something being undercooked.

He laughs, the pad of his thumb rubbing your palms. You could feel your breathing get shallow by this, trying to ignore it while he’s talking to you. “No, I got it from the store down the road, already made. Mac and Cheese!” he says, pulling it out of the bag.

You roll your eyes at his stupidity. “Matthew, we’ve been sitting here for over two hours, why would you leave that on the table instead of in the fridge?”

“It’s still warm!” he argues, opening it, “Oh and it smells so bad.” You burst out laughing as he cringes, closing it immediately. “I’ll order something else.”

You get up to go throw out the now rancid mac and cheese in the kitchen. “Hey, where do you want to order from?” you hear Matthew call, walking into the kitchen behind you.

The list.

It’s on the fridge.

Practically throwing yourself at it to try to tear it down in time, you rip it off the fridge and fold it up in your hand just in time for Matthew to come in. “Are you ok?” he asks you, noticing your slightly faster breathing and your hands behind your back.

“Yeah, the smell was just bad,” you lie to him, shoving the list in the band of your shorts. “And I was looking at the Jesus magnet.”

“That thing is so creepy,” he says, both of you looking at it. Knowing Matthew, you try as discreetly as possible to move the paper to your front so he can’t feel it as he inevitably presses his front to your back, his arms draping over your shoulders. Without thinking, you reach up to touch his hands as he rests his head on yours. “It’s way too white to be Jesus.”

His arms move their way down your body, settling around your waist as he starts to nibble at your ear. “God, you are so sexy,” you hear him let out.

“You’re awfully handsy lately, aren’t you Matty?”

“Oh come on,” he says, turning you around to face him, practically pinning you against the fridge, “You know we’re always like this with each other.”

You smile at him, cupping his face in your hands as you run the pads of your thumbs along his cheeks. “We have a weird...” you start, trying to figure out the right word to describe whatever it was you had with him, “friendship,” you settle on, not exactly liking the word yourself as your tried to hide the cringe you were sure was appearing on your face.

He swallows hard at that word. Even relationship would have been better, even if it were more broad than ‘friendship.’ At least it wasn’t such a narrow word. It felt like even if you didn’t finish the list you didn’t know he knew about, you would never see him as more than a friend. “Well, that’s what makes it my favorite friendship.”

The two of you stand there for a minute, holding each other and gazing into the others eyes. You could feel your breathing slow down studying Matthew’s facial features again, thinking only of how perfect they looked to you in that moment. “We should figure out where we’re getting food from,” you say, dragging your hands down his chest before dropping him all together.

He could have stared at you like that forever. He really couldn’t think of anyone more perfect than you, anyone he would want to look at besides you. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks, moving over to the counter. Opening your fridge, you remember you still have the list folded in the band of your shorts, throwing it in before grabbing some water out. “What did you just throw in there?” Matthew asked you, having watched your every move.

“Uh, Evelina and I have this weird list that we’re putting together, it didn’t feel right to have Jesus looking over it all of a sudden,” you tell him, “But now that you had mac and cheese on my mind, I kind of want that.”

“Oh, no, you’re not changing the subject that easily,” he says, trying to reach around you to open the fridge.

“No, come on, it’s mostly Evelina’s and I don’t know if she would want you seeing it,” you lie, batting your eyes at him and trying to contort your face to make it look like you would cry if he tried anything else. He couldn’t see the list of things you hate about it. He couldn’t find out about it.

He sighs, knowing he wasn’t going to win this one. “I ordered you mac and cheese but I’ll pay for it if you tell me the subject of the list?” he tries to bargain.

“Uh, it’s a list of kinks,” you lie, not knowing what else to say, and usure why that was the first thing that came to mind.

His eyes go wide, pretending to be shocked. It was the list of ten things you hate about him. It had to be. He grins anyway, trying to hide the pain he felt knowing that the list was already started, and probably nearly finished at this point, “Are any of them your kinks?”

“Yeah,” you start to lie to him again, a grin on your face, “One of them says, ‘When Matthew leaves me alone.’”

He scrunches up his face, pretending to be hurt by your comment as he walks back to your living room. “Oh you know just how to break my heart, pretty girl.” You follow him, plopping down next to him on your couch.

You pick up your computer, snuggling into his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you. “I have no desire to do this project.”

“Why don’t we watch something on TV then and you can work again after we eat?” he suggests. You nod, putting the computer back down, surrendering to his pout. You feel him kiss the top of your head, scrolling through the channels. “What about Lilo and Stitch?” he asks when he finds it on one of the channels.

“Ugh, I love this movie, but the American treatment of Hawaiians is awful, and I just can’t help but think about it every time I watch,” you say, thinking you were being annoying. “Sorry,” you apologize. Evelina was used to your rants, even if you were sure she normally tuned them out. You didn’t think Matthew wanted to listen to another rant from you.

“Don’t get me started?” he asks, referring to the game you and the guys played at the bar.

“Don’t get me started on the American colonization of Hawaii. The Cookes’ went to Hawaii and pretty much obliterated the royal bloodline. The king of Hawaii had the Cookes build boarding schools for the royal children, with good intentions that they would be able to educate his children on royal customs to effectively rule their land. Instead, the Cookes took the Hawaiian customs and told them they were wrong, imparting their own customs on them, instead. They wanted he land for America, they wanted to eliminate the Hawaiian culture and make them as American as possible,” you say. “The Hawaiian people were a very sex positive people, but oh no, American Catholic education and their ‘no sex is the safest sex’ ideal stopped the children from living the lives they grew up expected to live. If a boy was found in a girls room doing anything in these boarding schools, they would beat the children as punishment, and probably other things that weren't even recorded. There are actually a decent number of Wikipedia pages that have had this information erased, like when you go back into the edit history. The sources, as they claimed, weren’t valid, but in reality they weren’t the Cookes’ American-centric description of these schools. They even went so far as introducing sports into the schools as ‘an antidote to the worst evil of all: sexual promiscuity,’” you comment, drawing a laugh from Matthew. “Because we all know how much athletes hate sex, right?”

You look up at Matthew, him beaming down at you as Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride starts ironically playing in the background, “Yeah, we hate that,” he whispers. You swallow hard, trying to ignore any feelings that might be coming up at the sight of Matthew biting his bottom lip.

“American’s always just insert themselves where they don’t belong,” you finish, settling your head back onto his shoulder as he pulls you closer to him.

“Why do you know all of this?” he asks.

You shrug, not really sure how to answer, “I don’t know. When I’m doing work I see one word and it sends my mind into this never ending tangent and I end up looking up stuff online and reading for hours.”

“You really are the smartest person I know,” he says with a sigh, “Why hasn’t Ev told her parents about hiding the Catholic stuff until they come?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. I never asked, she just told me it was something she needed to do, so I did it with her. That’s her own cross to bear,” you say, taking a minute to realize the really bad pun you just made. “Ah! See what I did there!” you practically yell, Matthew groaning.

“On that note, I think I need to leave,” he jokes, getting up off the couch.

“Oh, come on, no!” you beg, taking him by the hand and trying to drag him back down to the couch. “I don’t want you to leave,” you let out as he pulls you off the couch.

“Really?” he asks you, sitting back down on the couch, your hands still connected.

Standing over him you nod as he pulls you into his lap, straddling him. He pulls you as close to him as you can, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck. Your mind flashes back to the liquor store, the feeling that came over you as he worked his way along your body like you had a feeling he was about to do again.

“Come on Matthew, you know this isn’t something we do,” you tease, even though you can’t help but look at his lips, the urge to kiss him creeping up on you as you tried desperately to suppress it. If any guy had taken you into his lap like Matthew just did, you would want to do the same thing. You were just desperate for a man, not desperate for Matthew.

“We can’t do anything?” he teases, going for your neck again. You let out a moan, praying that he doesn’t leave any more marks that you’ll have to cover up later.

“Wait,” you say to him, pulling him off of you. He looks slightly upset, not sure what to do next. ‘Ah, fuck it,’ you think to yourself, pulling his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the side and returning the favor of the hickey he gave you. You suck on his skin, listening to the moans that escaped from his lips this time, feeling him grow hard the longer you were at it. He clenches his hands on your butt, pulling you even closer to him. You work your way up his neck and to his jaw, his grip getting tighter the closer you were to his lips. You had no idea what was coming over you and causing you to want to do this, but nothing in that moment felt better. Nothing in your life had ever felt better as you kissed his face the way he did to you the other day, hearing him moan more and more with every connection you made.

Your lips are millimeters from his, both of you practically begging the other for connection when you’re startled by the sound of Matthew’s phone ringing. You both laugh, foreheads pressed together. One more second and it would have happened. “I think that means our food is here.”

“Perfect fucking timing,” he mutters, not loud enough for you to hear as you get up to go grab the food. He couldn’t believe you just did that. He checks his neck in his phone camera, seeing it littered with the red marks you had left for him. He reaches up to touch them, smiling for some reason. There’s no way this list would work against him, would it?

You come back, him practically throwing his phone so you don’t see what he’s doing, settling down on the couch with each other eating the food. Your mind starts racing with thoughts about what just happened. There was no way you really wanted that, did you? Well, you wanted a man’s touch, but it didn’t necessarily have to be Matthew. It could be any guy.

‘I have another thing for the list,’ you text Evelina, your eyes moving between your phone screen and his hands holding his food, careful not to look up at his face.

‘Good, god, what?’

‘I hate the way he stares,’ you send her, finally looking up, not taking your eyes off Matthew as the two of you can’t help but stare at each other.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #calgary flames #calgary flames imagines #flames #flames imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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egyptian-sun-god · 3 years

Text

Never Have I ever S2

SPOILERS.....Turn back now I’m serious.

I’m waiting....

Okay cool your fault at this point

I was fairly critical of NHIE S1, I won’t lie. And I’ll be real I still stand by the fact that NHIE S1 was fairly meh overall.

But holy shit, they knocked this season outta the world man. The show really really found its proper footing this season. They were smart to keep the cheating for only two episodes and explore the repercussion for the other 8.

1.Devi Vishwakumar.

Let’s start with the main character. Devi still does immensely fucked up shit this season. Dating two boys and have them find out in the MOST humiliating way possible. Yikes. Being a really sucky friend to Aneesa and starting that rumour about her (inadvertently) and pretending to her. Stalking her mother and being possessive of her. The really awful apology that was pretty self centred, a bit not good.

But she really does do her best to improve and I am SO proud of that. She uses her father’s advice and apologizes better to Aneesa, she actually handled the Ben and Aneesa dating WAAAAY better than I’ve seen some people handle things like that. I might’ve blown a fuse if two of my friends had 4 tickle fights and had major PDA sessions when we were trying to do a group project. Like she handled that shit fairly well all things considered. Devi actually gets into the beginnings of delving into her trauma and her temporary paralysis and healing from it. I

really see how the label ‘crazy’ weighs on her and how she blew up with it and the message of destigmatizing mental illness. (Crazy Aneesa and Crazy Devi) Her properly bonding with her mother and watching videos of her father and remembering/honouring his memory hit REALLY HARD (since I lost many people in my family recently and that fear of forgetting them has been real). Devi is actually beginning to heal from the loss of her father by strengthening the relationship with her Amma. And the slap from Paati was so so needed, it really gave her a better respect of her mother and fixed the problem I had with Devi mouthing off so much to her Amma. I live to see good maamiyar marumagal relationships. Her relationship with Paxton is really good and it gets developed very logically and having her be scared of being pathetic but in the end she accepted her own self worth and stopped chasing after them which was good.

Overall Devi really blossomed into her own developing person and I actually like her so much more this season.

2. Paxton Hall Yoshida

I was honestly, like genuinely sad last season he was like 80% eye candy with not much else going for him. Paxton had so much faith as a character and Ms Kaling has really pulled him into such a better person this season.

Paxton got hit by a car before swim season, lost his ticket to college and wow, got two timed by a girl he liked all in two episodes. If he was salty about that for more than one season I would’ve completely accepted it. Cause that’s a bad public humiliation.

Paxton episode really really made me love him as a character (honestly more so than Ben) I think because I heard Paxton’s entire worry and irritation that he was being underestimated and no one really expected him to go to college from a friend of mine not more than a month ago. That shit is real, and it hurted my friends a lot that people were really underestimating them and just seeing them as a dumb athlete who has no hope of college. It’s really nice to see Paxton actually want to go to college and learn Japanese American side with his Oji-chan giving him advice and supporting him. And him bringing his grandfather to speak about the internment camps, that seriously do not get spoken about enough.

Also him putting effort and making a genuine effort to work hard and bring up his grades with Devi and therefore bonding with her was really nice to see. I wouldn’t mind them being endgame but Devi does really work a lot better as his pushy Indian mom/best friend/tutor. And Devi getting mad at him for him expecting him to hold his hand throughout really hit well. Was it deserved yeah. But Devi also did blow him off after promising him to study so his anger is justified there. I’m just kinda vibing with Paxton like coming up and taking a better interest in school and being a full 3D character. And that one scene where he gives the extra credit presentation and Trent high fives the man. Classic.

Can I also just say, it’s kinda valid that Paxton didn’t want to date her in public. Is it a dick move...yeah? But he’s within his rights to ask and she’s within her rights to deny. And he didn’t press her once she said no, he went along with it. And what Devi pulled on him is awful, and speaking as someone who’s seen popular kid cliques. Reputation really is important. Like what Devi did made Paxton lose face, if he gets back with Devi he ain’t gonna have any respect left in him. And Paxton was pretty right in deciding to not date her publicly, like even in the end he knows that his reputation is shot for what he did. Do we even know if Paxton has friends that aren’t fixated on his social status? Because becoming a social pariah without having any support of friends is gonna hurt like a bitch. Lord knows how Paxton gonna deal with it. I think Trent might be his only homie after the social downfall he will inevitably face.

I’m just gonna say, Paxton is my favourite now and I’m really rooting for him. Something I decidedly did not do last season. I’m happy Ms Kaling developed him so much and got me interested.

3. Ben Gross

Ah. Ben. Ben’s not my faaavouriteee.......like he’s fine. But I don’t love him. I can definitely see him and Devi becoming an almost endgame couple though. Especially with S2 ending.

Ben is fine and he’s pretty developed, especially with his episode in S1 and it was good he took a backseat this season and let everyone else star. I feel like he’ll come back strong next season though.

Personally do I ship him with Devi? No. I’ve been in a friendship with the similar competitive dynamic as Ben and Devi. And it was terrible. We loved to argue and we got each other’s super brainy side as Devi puts it. But we pushed each other faar too much and even the small things became arguments and each pthers achievements became jealousy. So yeah....I don’t have too much faith in the dynamic due to personal bias, but I’d love to see how it gets handled.

Also my brother Ben, PDA is a thing and it is common courtesy to refrain from it. Man’s really going at it with Aneesa half the time. But also the moment where Aneesa sort of choked on the presentation and Ben’s irritation at it gave me BAAAD vibes. It feels like while Devi can match him, they might push each other too far,

4. Kamala

I LOVE KAMALA. Girl is an ENTIRE vibe. My sweetheart, love of my life. I could go on. I really like her development as well and the banter between her and Nalini. The part where Nalini practically said she looked like a call girl and she was like ippadi potathaan velaila mariyaatha kidaikum. I legit had to pause, scream in laughter for a good few seconds.

They had such a good story with her and wanting to fight against the fact that they took her work and didn’t credit her and everyone was telling her to like take it bowing. Prasanth’s advice unfortunately checked out to me, because I’ve been told that all my life. My dad says it a lot and I know he doesn’t say it cause’ he doesn’t believe in me, but he loves me and wants my life to be easier and for me to succeed and his experience is that he’s had to deal with things like this and fighting won’t help. So yeah, what Prasanth said did not rub me the wrong way at all and I agreed with it and I’m fairly disappointed about that. I get that she got nervous and had cold feet about marriage but I do hope she and Prasanth can work this out through communication. Because I really don’t feel like Prasanth is the bad guy here. It’s just a miscommunication.

So yeah, a LOT of Kamala’s storyline continues to really hit me hard.

5. Nalini Vishwakumar

Nalini really had so much more screentime to blossom. I love that she has a good relationship with Mohan’s amma. It’s wonderful and I love it. Also I was shocked to see the house in Chennai. Like this house...in Chennai. The Chennai I’m used to and the Chennai they are used to are different Chennai’s. Basically wealth gap is crazy as hell and I was lowkey highkey confused if the actually shot this shit in Chennai. But props to the directors for putting some proper Tamil vibes in there. Like the scene where they kaala thottu kumbudurathu (touch the elder’s feet) before they leave for the US is so real and so vibes. I like that they decided to bring paati back. I was like hoping for it.

Also they really went at developing Nalini’s character as a workaholic mom who doesn’t get her daughter. That’s also a really common thing in Indian households with one working parent so I’m happy they portrayed that. I’m happy Nalini actually has a life outside her family portrayed and is still such a typical mother that it hits HARD. I love Nalini and she really developed as a character dealing with grief from Mohan’s death, the wish to move on with Dr.Jackson but knowing that she isn’t ready yet.

They gave her character a life and proper working outside Devi and it really has shown to develop her character and impact her relationship with Devi. The advice to “just say yes” works with cousins and younger siblings as well, I’ve heard it before and used it..and it saves so much time. Especially with small children.

(A memory I have is of my younger cousin going on and on about a princess and a castle and fighting a dragon and the witches and so much fantasy shit and ended with do you wanna come? I just clocked off my CCA’s and I had no energy left to question it so I just went yeah sure. Easiest decision, and 10/10 advice. )

6. Aneesa

I’m not gonna lie. I was skeptical of Aneesa and I didn’t like how Devi saw her in the trailer. But Aneesa reminds me so much of me....and its killing me.

Also the scene where she charms the hell out of Nalini and paati ma has literally happened to me before. Most of my Indian friends hate it..because I was raised with a lot more traditional manners with my grandparents so me and my siblings all are old fashioned which parents LOVE. And I really saw that Aneesa charming them and Devi also realizing, Damn none of my friends actually treat my family the way they should be treated, perks of having an Indian friend.

Also the scene where she gets Devi out of trouble is so so real. Because if you have one responsible friend that you parents trust, you could lie the hell to them, get you homie to back you up and it will work. Personal experience. So yeah, Aneesa character resonated with me a lot.

I also like that she wasn’t just a popular 1D Indian girl but she was genuinely cool and actually had proper issues and development where she gets more open to Sherman Oaks and actually kinda properly rebels against Noor, with having Ben as a boyfriend.

I feel like Aneesa has a lot more potential for growth, especially with the relationship with Ms Noor and Aneesa acting as a foil to Nalini and Devi’s. Also, I feel like Aneesa can grow within her social status at school as well and have Devi maturely handle it. Aneesa I feel will really really challenge Devi’s ability to be mature.

7. Eleanor and Fabiola’s plotlines

Okay like actually, major props to Ms Kaling man. This show touches so so many teen issues in one goddamn show. Emotionally manipulative relationships. So SO good. A lot of newer age relationships have a much more subtle and dangerous line of abuse that’s hard to find out. Like honestly it took me a while to see it as well and I realized oh fuck. oh fuck...I see it it’s bad. They really got the essence of Eleanor’s flamboyance matching with Malcom? (is it Malcolm..fuck it it’s Malcolm now) his “suaveness” and traditionally charming tendency. It made sense and it’s very realistic how Eleanor got played like a damn fiddle. I also again feel that the make up was faar to quick but I really appreciate that Eleanor got her own storyline with her step-mom and understanding of relationships instead of the show hyperfocusing on just Devi. I respect that a lot. Petition to get a Eleanor narration episode.

Fabiola’s storyline also was well taken. It’s an interesting added layer to the queer experience and how queerness can be expected to be performative and but really its all about being more of yourself. The idea that queer people don’t owe nobody anything or have to perform an ideal version of queerness and Fabiola struggling with that kinda hit. The part where they talked about her mother learning to support them and being Cricket? Queen/King. Like being trailblazers for the POC community and the LGBTQ+ community having overlapping struggles. Again, I liked that Fabiola was getting more personal screentime and less of her story revolving around Devi’s.

8. Everything else

I liked that there was more Tamil being casually thrown around. Like the Kamala vaadi to hold the suitcase down as they zipped it together was funny and relatable. The accents were really interesting because I promise you, I had no clue what they were saying sometimes. Nalini’s dialogues in Tamil were like immensely difficult to understand, and my Tamil is fluent. This isn’t a criticism... I’m fairly certain the difference is to do with the regional difference. American Tamil and Malaysian + rural Tamil slang are going to have huge accent differences so there’s no surprise that I found Nalini’s Tamil hard to understand.

I’m really really really meh about the Kamala and Manish/Mr Kulkarni thing. I still think she should sort it out with Prasanth maybe but I’m open to seeing where it goes. I might change my mind with it.

This show like any other show had its highs and lows. But I really really do feel that NHIE season 2 managed to truly figure out what the hell it wants to do and developed into a very strong and very entertaining show in terms of representation and diversity. I’m looking forward to season 3.

#nhie netflix #nhie season 2 #nhie s2 #nhie spoilers #nhie review #never have i ever #never have i ever season 2 #never have i ever spoilers #i have a lot of thoughts #bear with me here

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jovialluminaryalpaca · 3 years

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True Beauty | Little by Little | Han Seojun x Kang Soojin fanfic series | part 2

Part 1 , Part 3

Hey, hey, I hope y'all are doing good, this will probably be a 3 part series and I hope I'll wrap it up by the next part. Anyhow, I hope y'all will like this part, don't forget to leave a like and reblog and feel free to share your views via ask or text, thank you 💛

No major warnings, very slight cursing (not edited)

Soojin sighed as she looked at her phone and waited for Seojun to come out of the studio. She was seated on one of the tables in the cafeteria at Move Entertainment. She tapped her feet impatiently as she sat there, it had been 2 days since Seojun witnessed her breakdown and decided to give her space to recover like he said. She felt embarrassed, not because she ruined one of his favourite jackets with her tears but because media had caught him holding her hand on a busy sidewalk that night. There were numerous stories and rumours around them and she was bombarded with calls from Jugyeong and Soo ah. She decided to ignore those calls because she knew they will only ask her questions she didn't wanna answer especially when she was recovering from her father's visit and her realisation of having feelings for Seojun.

If it was in her hands, she would've continued to avoid Seojun, but she had to come to the office to clear the rumours and make a statement that Seojun was just her friend and he was helping her out. It hurt her to say something like that but she couldn't really do anything about it, it was for Seojun's good and she knew that one sided love was all that was written in her fate.

In the past two days, she couldn't help but wonder when was it that it happened? When was the moment she started getting attached to Seojun and was dumb enough to not realise it? Was it when he made fun of her need to set everything in an order or was it when they bickered over almost any topic they could find? Was it when he called her everytime he was free and they would go to her favourite restaurant go grab a meal or was it when he stayed up late and planned a birthday surprise for a kid by performing a little concert at the orphanage the kid stayed in and the one her company helped? Was it when he casually called her pretty and bossy at the same time or was it when he apologized to her for calling her a piece of trash?

She remembered the time he did.

It was one of those nights, he walked her home after they hung out. They were both laughing at how a random old woman on the road mistook Seojun to be her grandson and dragged both of them along with her to come with her and have some dinner or tea at her place. Neither of them had the heart to refuse the old woman and it clearly looked like she missed her young grandson, so they decided to join her and much to their dismay, her real son approached them and apologised for the inconvenience she caused, she apologised and both of them told her it was not much of a big deal.

"Ya. Do you think we would've got free dinner if her son didn't come?" He asked her.

"Really? You are thinking about dinner? Oh My God." She exclaimed as he burst into laughter.

"No, no, no, I mean, food is everything you know." He said as she chuckled.

"You are such a goofball, I swear." She responded as he smiled at her. They both kept walking till they reached her apartment, they always took the route which less crowded and where he could freely roam without the mask.

"Next time, don't remove your mask in public, otherwise some other grandma will make you her grandson." She said as she nudged him.

He rolled his eyes but eventually laughed it off and shook his head as they finally reached her apartment.

"Don't worry, I won't." He replied as she nodded.

"Get home safe and try to stay as far as possible from groups of girls." She said as he smiled.

"Why? Are you jealous?" He asked as she laughed at his stupid question.

"No, because I want you to stay alive and not choke yourself to death when you get smothered by thousands of girls." She said as a matter of fact and he simply shook his head and she shrugged it off.

"Ya, Kang Soojin." He said as she looked at him.

"I'm sorry." He said out of nowhere and she looked at him blankly.

Why was he apologising to her?

"For what?" She asked as she studied his expression.

"I'm sorry for being a jerk to you back in school and for calling all those awful things." He said as she opened her mouth to say something but closed it back again.

"I know it's out of nowhere, but I just felt like I should apologise, so I did." He continued as she looked at him wordlessly.

Something about his apology was sincere even when she knew what she did was worth way worse than the words he chose to call her back then. Honestly, she deserved those words to be slapped on her and there was no justification for what she did except for it being a mean of escape which she found in Suho back then but she didn't anymore when she realized that what she did led to loosing one thing she cherished so dearly, her friendship with everyone including Suho.

"Why are you apologising? I deserved it." She said and scoffed at herself.

"Maybe, that version of you did, but I wanted to apologise to this version of you and not let her hold on to what I said back then." He explained as she looked at him with a smile.

"You don't have anything to apologise for, it's all in the past, it's like a closed back, I've moved past it, those words don't bother me that much anymore but it's the guilt that bothers me, it's always there whenever I'm around Jugyeong." She replied as he looked at her with a slight frown.

"Suho wasn't worth all that, honestly." He added as she chuckled.

"Yeah." She said as he looked at her and she looked back at him. There was just silence as they looked at each other.

"Don't you have rehearsals tomorrow for your concert?" She cleared her throat and asked him, his eyes widened as he remembered the rehearsal timings for the next day.

"Oh, no, I do. Oh, no, no. Heegyeong is gonna kill me if I don't reach the studio on time. I'll see you this weekend?" He asked as he checked his pocket for the bus pass.

"Yeah, you will, if I don't any event or work that is." She said as he smiled.

"Good, then, I'll see you later. Good night." He said and turned around to leave.

"Ya, Han Seojun!" She called out.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"Why don't get a car for yourself?" She asked as his eyes widened to realise that he was rich now and he scratched the back of his neck and looked down.

"It will save you the hustle." She continued as he nodded.

"I'll look into it." He responded and turned his back to walk ahead.

"Good Night!" She called out as he waved his hand one last time and so did she as he walked away. She stood there as she smiled to her self wondering when will Seojun finally learn to organize himself and then walked towards the elevator.

"Soojin?" Heegyeong's voice pulled her out of the trance as she looked at her and smiled.

"Yeah. Should I come now?" She asked as Heegyeong sat beside her.

"No, don't worry, it's handled. You don't have to make a statement, we cleared it out and warned Seojun to not be so careless." She replied and looked at Soojin.

"It's not his fault. I was the one who was in a hurry. I'm sorry for this mess." She said as Heegyeong looked at her with a small smile.

"You don't have to apologise Soojin, I understand, everyone has good and bad days and it's completely okay to have them." She said as Soojin nodded.

On the other side, Han Seojun ruffled his hair as he walked out of one of the studios and looked around to find Soojin. He was glad that she was doing alright and then he felt a sudden flutter in his chest as he looked at her smile at Heegyeong. He gulped not knowing why he felt that. He stopped as he admired her from the distance and a goofy smile appeared on his face.

Honestly, he would be lying if he didn't admit that Soojin effected him, her happiness and just her presence made him happy in ways he couldn't define, at first he felt like she was more of a replacement for Jugyeong and maybe her presence acted like some kind of a rebound for him but now he was sure that she was different and unique and maybe that's why he liked her presence around him. He weirdly felt comfort in the way she scolded him when she looked at the mess he made most of the time and the times she explained what certain words and references meant in fan letters. There was another tug on his heart's strings when she smiled and turned around to look at him. He smiled as he felt a gush of flutters in his stomach and she waved at him. He wasn't a fool to not realise what these feelings were but he was reluctant to accept that he started to feel them around someone who wasn't Jugyeong.

Did he finally move on from Jugyeong?

His heart whispered a yes as he walked towards Soojin, stood in front of her and ruffled her hair and she scowled at his action and that scowl on her face as she set her hair right and the rapid beating of his heart was enough for him to know that yes, he was finally over Jugyeong and that, yes, he definitely developed feelings for his school's ex top mark securing girl.

"We have something to tell y'all." Jugyeong said as she tapped the table and everyone looked at her.

It was weekend after the whole mess that happened with Seojun and the media, He apologised to Soojin for not being careful and she gave him a lecture on how he should be more careful with all of this and how risky it was to expose his face especially when they are teenagers around and how no one knows what their intentions can be, some might be innocent but what if someone was looking for some revenge or was an obsessed psychopath. He couldn't help but laugh at her theories only to get a silencing glare from her. They made up irrespective of the fact that neither of them were aware about the feelings they developed for the other.

They were now seated at the same table they sat months ago in the same position but it was dinner now, Jugyeong called all of them to gather here and they did because no one wanted to hear Jugyeong get mad at them for skipping the dinner.

"Don't tell me you are pregnant." Tae hoon blurted out as Soo ah burst into laughter.

Suho just shook his head at them and observed everyone.

Jugyeong glared at Soo ah but shrugged it off eventually as Soo ah let out a nervous chuckle. Jugyeong smiled at everyone who looked at her and then put her left hand up showing the sparkling diamond ring on her ring finger.

"Suho proposed and I said yes." She exclaimed happily as Suho smiled at her and wrapped his arm around to pull her close while the girls gushed at the news. Soo ah squealed at the news with happiness and Soojin smiled at her best friend. Suho observed Seojun's reaction but much to his surprise, he didn't feel his heart clench, like all the times before and he gave them a genuine smile and clapped along with the others congratulating the pair. Suho thanked them with a smile as Soojin looked at Seojun smile and felt happy that he finally moved on from Jugyeong.

After a while, Cho rong and Tae hoon decided to go explore something which opened down the street while Suho and Seojun walked out of the restaurant to let the girls to gush over details and spend their time alone without their partners or friends.

"You like Soojin?" Suho asked Seojun as they looked at the street view. Seojun choked on his drink as Suho shook his head at him.

"What? No." He said and shrugged.

"After all these years, you must know better than lying to my face." Suho said as he observed his friend's reaction. Seojun was silent as he contemplated the idea of telling Suho and eventually gave in.

"I...I do." Seojun said after a while as he cleared his throat.

"Then, why didn't you tell her?" He asked him.

"Do you think I'm ready for another heartbreak?" He asked as Suho looked at him.

"How will you know without confessing?" Suho asked instead.

"I guess, I just know how is it when the person I like looks at me as a friend." He said and shrugged.

"Maybe she doesn't." Suho said as he turned around to look at the girls from the window.

And much to his surprise, he found Soojin throw a glance towards Seojun and it confirmed his suspicions.

"Let it be. Will you?" Seojun asked with a mixture of scowl and frown on his face.

"As you wish." Suho said as he looked at him.

"Honestly, I still can't believe that you found a girl and fell in love." Seojun said as Suho raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? Have you looked at yourself? With those death glares and eyebrow raises you give, it's hard to believe that someone fell in love with you." Seojun explained as Suho smiled at his best friend.

"You are really a dumbass." Suho said as Seojun widened his eyes.

"Who are you calling dumbass, dumbass?" He asked as Suho shrugged and decided to walk ahead.

"I asked Jugyeong to call us when they are done talking, wanna join me for a walk?" Suho asked Seojun. Seojun stopped for a while and looked at Soojin smile and talk to her friends and he couldn't help but smile at the sight, he sighed and looked at Suho who stood there waiting for his response. He could definitely use a bit of fresh air to clear his head.

"Alright. Let's go." He said and covered his face with a mask and joined Suho.

#hanseojunxkangsujin #han seo joon #han seojun #true beauty fanfic #true beauty imagine #true beauty #kang sujin #kang soojin #hanseojunxkangsoojin #han seojun imagine #hanseojunfanfic #han seojun x reader #han seojun x you #hwang in yeop #park yoona #seojun x sujin

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cherryrogers · 4 years

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➸ call me baby {2/3}

SUMMER NIGHTS

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | biker au

warnings: swearing, violence, implied smut, mainly fluff.

word count: 7.8k

synopsis: Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker. And when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either. That was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

series masterlist

a/n: ok so this has turned into a three part series!! the next part will likely be a bit shorter, but i wanted to wrap up the story properly and i felt that needed it’s own separate part. i’m gonna post a masterlist for this series tomorrow, and i might write some drabbles for this fic to add to it once it’s finished if anyone has any hc/drabble ideas they’d like to send in?? i need to stop rambling so much lmao,,, please enjoy!!

Sunsets; consisting of an array of warm tones, reds and oranges bleeding into each other, casting a dim, natural light over cities before the artificial yellow beaming of street lamps lit up the world instead. A comforting reminder that every bad day eventually ends, but a sad reminder that every perfect day ends too.

In your case, they’d been unsettling ends to a continuous string of perfect days. And following those, a bright sunrise poured light through your windows every morning, indicating that you were one day closer to the end of the summer.

Currently, the deep, warm sky was the background of a blissful ride through the city. Perched on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle, your arms enveloping his waist, fingertips grazing lightly over his stomach through his shirt. No destination in particular; just an excuse to be close to one another.

Since the night at Wanda’s bar, the night where you simply let yourself begin to feel for Bucky, things had been different. Better.

Rides around the city were a frequent occurrence, usually happening when Bucky offered to take you home on his bike, but taking the long way back to enjoy the view and the feeling of you next to him for a short while longer.

It was therapeutic, tranquil. Well, until your road rage got the best of you.

“Dude, it’s a green light,” You shouted at the car in front you. “Green means go, didn’t you learn that in kindergarten?”

“Christ, you realise you’re yellin’ straight in my ear, right?”

“Sorry, Buck,” You patted his chest apologetically, before proceeding to yell once again. “Not my fault some people don’t know how traffic lights work!”

It was entertaining to Bucky, anyway. Even if it did earn you some middle fingers, which you gladly returned.

As the sky began to lose its vibrant hue, the two of you headed back in the direction of your place, definitely your least favourite part of the ride, but you savoured it nevertheless.

You were friends. Teasing each other incessantly because you just bounced off one another like that, but you often found yourself gravitating towards him. During meals at the clubhouse, you sat in the same spot as you did when you entered the place for the first time; right next to Bucky. While that likely meant for Steve and Peggy that they were in for a painful time, consisting of them slowly losing their patience with you both, they didn’t mind. Well, they did a little.

It’d been almost two hours since you started your game of Monoply. You weren’t sure if you were anywhere near the end of the game, but everyone was still pretty into it. Clint and Sam were paired up as a team, Steve and Peggy shared the little top-hat token, you and Bucky had the wheelbarrow, and Natasha had the car. She claimed she worked better when was on her own team, which was proved to be true by the fact she was winning.

It was Steve and Peggy’s turn to roll, and their top hat was moved to land on the ‘Boardwalk’ space.

“Oh, that’s our space!” You chirped. “Pay up, my dudes.”

“_____, you don’t have a house on that space.”

“Well, could you pass me one? I want this space.”

“You have to buy one.”

“Then I’ll buy one.”

Peggy sighed. “It’s not your turn, you can’t buy a house. Your token isn’t even on that space.”

You furrowed your brows, turning to Bucky. Maybe you should’ve read the rules before playing; you’d never actually played Monoply before. “Oh. That kinda sucks then.”

After a moment, Bucky reached over to the little bag of houses, picking one out and placing it on the Boardwalk space.

“Buck, that’s cheating.” Steve glared at his friend, who only shrugged innocently.

“She’s never played before, let her just have the damn house.”

“You’re only sayin’ that ‘cause she’s on your team, jerk.”

Bucky just shrugged again, turning to shoot you a wink as you smirked in satisfaction and placing your little house on the space, missing Steve and Peggy sharing a look of annoyance as they passed a pile of yellow bills over to you.

It was safe to say the two of you weren’t allowed to play as a team during board games anymore. Natasha always won the games anyway, so it’s not like you and him cheating made much of a difference.

You thought things were moving smoothly with Bucky. You knew that you liked him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he already knew that — it was pretty fucking obvious at this point. But it would be a rather dumb move to escalate things even if you wanted to. The summer would be over in two months, one third of it was already gone, and you would be too by the beginning of September. Naively, you’d told yourself that you simply wouldn’t take things further. Easy enough, right?

Wrong; so very wrong. You’d proved to yourself that you seriously needed to stop acting impulsively on one fateful after a day spent at the clubhouse.

You’d been about to leave, but had decided to head off to the office where Bucky had been pretty much all evening while everyone else was out in the backyard, which was odd considering you would’ve assumed he’d be the last to not spend the night drinking beer and hanging out with friends over, well, anything else.

You knocked loudly on the door, hearing shuffling and the clicking of a computer keyboard before a quiet ‘come in’ followed. Furrowing your brows, you stepped into the room, eyes landing on the biker slumped in the chair at the desk, forcing a small smile. Did he really think your were that oblivious?

“You’ve been hiding in here all night,” You approaches the desk, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is there something you wanna share with the class?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered between the computer screen and your face, before he shook his head. “Just dealin’ with club stuff.”

“Hm, and what counts as club stuff?”

“It’s stuff you don’t need to worry about.”

You scoffed. “Huh, what happened to not doing stuff you shouldn’t be? Not getting into trouble?”

“Do you ever mind your own business?” Bucky questioned bluntly, though there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

Mirroring his expression, you leaned against the desk next to him. “Not when someone is clearly trying to hide something.

The biker bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating for a few moments. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. Sure, he’d only known you around a month now, but you were... his friend. A good friend. He just didn’t want you mixed up in anything dangerous. Steve wasn’t lying when he said that the club tried to stay out of trouble, because they definitely didn’t go out of their way to get into shitty situations. But if they needed to get their hands a little dirty to deal with clubs that thrived off trouble, then so be it.

Eventually, Bucky sighed, moving a hand back over his computer mouse and letting the screen light up again. Crinkling your brows, your eyes scanned the screen. He’d been looking at a map of Brooklyn, and the little red location pointer was pinned onto a warehouse downtown.

“Peter Parker, he’s just a kid. Parents died when he was barely five, lost his uncle a few years back. He lives at home with his aunt in Queens since he’s still in school, but we sorta took him in a while ago. The night after his uncle died, Tony found him on the sitting on the curb a few blocks away from here, completely distraught. He managed to talk him down though, and found out he was pretty good with engineering. We said if he wanted, he could help out with fixing bikes and cars at the clubhouse, and he comes by every so often since then.”

You didn’t know Tony that well; he was a little older than the rest of the club, and he lived outside of the clubhouse with his wife, Pepper. You hadn’t met Peter at all, but you trusted Bucky when he said that he was a good kid.

“Last week, he showed up to the here with a busted lip and broken nose. Said that Rumlow and his guys had jumped him, and that they wanted him to do a job for them — collect a weapon shipment from this warehouse.” Bucky nodded towards the screen.

At the mention of Brock Rumlow, you felt your jaw tighten. Thankfully, he’d kept his distance from Wanda’s bar since your last encounter with him, but you were still pissed off about the show he put on there, and there was nothing you regretted more than not jumping over the bar top and kicking him in the balls. Now he’d resorted to threatening a kid and making him do his dirty work?

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Peter’s meant to meet the guy delivering the weapons next week, so I’m gonna take Nat, Sam and Tony down to the warehouse and deal with any of Rumlow’s guys that are nearby.”

Upon seeing your face light up, Bucky chuckled, standing from his seat. “And no, you can’t come.”

“Bucky, I’m not a woman of many talents, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s handing people’s asses to them.” You lifted your chin confidently.

“Baby—”

You held a finger up to shush him. “Okay, I know I said that I liked when you call me that, but not now. Brock is the guy that grabbed me, Buck. And the guy that punched you in the face!”

“I know, and we’ll deal with him,” A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Besides, I thought you weren’t part of any club. Can’t do club stuff if you’re not a member.”

“Well, not that I want to... but how would one go about becoming part of your little gang?” You weren’t lying; you definitely did not want to be a damn biker, but you did want the chance to boot Brock Rumlow and his group of dipshits in the face.

“You could become an old lady.” The biker cocked a brow, and you chuckled heartily.

Not that you were up to date with the biker lingo, but you could take a good guess at what being an old lady meant. “Hm, if only there was someone that wanted me to be their old lady.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky glanced over your features, waiting for you to laugh and brush the comment off as a joke since the majority of your vocabulary was sarcasm, but you didn’t. The corners of your lips curled up slightly, not teasingly, but softly...

...Until you became painfully aware of the silence that’d fell upon the two of you, and let out a sigh to break it. It was already late when you were supposed to leave, anyway. Now, the dim moonlight was casting shadows outside of the office window, the only source of bright light being the yellow streams from lampposts dotted up and down the quiet street.

“Well, I should get going.” You reluctantly stepped back from him.

“You don’t have to go, you know. Peggy stays overnight when it’s late.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, cause Peggy has a boyfriend that she can share a bed with.”

“Hey, I’ve got a double bed.” Bucky teased, and you’d be lying if you said sleeping next to him in his bed didn’t make you feel a certain type of way.

Though, you definitely wouldn’t let him know that. “You’re stupid, Bucky.”

He shrugged, following you as you continued for the door of the office. “I mean, even if I had a single—”

“I would still not be getting in your bed,” You deadpanned, finishing his sentence for him and promoting the stupidly hot little smirk of his to appear again. “Okay, now I’m leaving. Goodbye, Bucky.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“No you will not,” You breathed out a laugh. “There are two bottles of beer on that desk and death isn’t on the cards for me tonight — can’t get rid of me that easily.”

A look of realisation washed over his face, a pink colour tinting his cheeks. Was Bucky Barnes blushing? That was certainly a sight, and what a sight it was.

“S’alright — I don’t wanna get rid of you,” The biker stepped in front of you, dangerously close as your back hit the door. “Not yet, anyway.”

You couldn’t lie; Bucky was hot, he was beautiful. Even when he was being a sarcastic ass, but he was just as much one of them as you were. God dammit, as much as you wanted to slap yourself for letting your insides melt for a guy you didn’t know all that well, you knew that if you didn’t fucking kiss him right this second that you’d regret the hell out of it later.

And so, you did.

You grabbed the collar of the leather jacket he never failed to make an appearance without— or perhaps he just had a lot of leather jackets, though leather jackets didn’t necessarily need washed so it was probably the same jacket— not the time, _____. Carrying on, you swiftly captured his lips with yours, relief washing through you as you felt him react almost immediately. Almost, he definitely wasn’t expecting you to do that.

The kiss was gentle; gentle enough so that you could simply savour the feeling of his lips on yours, the taste a mixture of smoke and minty chewing gum. It was slow, but quick. Bucky didn’t even have the chance to move his hands to your waist before you pulled back, raising your hand to trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

“You still planning on getting rid of me?” You grinned, amused by the biker’s dumbfounded expression.

He laughed breathily after a couple of seconds, nose nudging yours playfully. “Not if you keep kissin’ me like that, baby.”

“Hm, maybe you’ll just get lucky again.” You pushed at his chest softly, letting you step forward and open the door to leave the office.

Bucky let out a scoff. “You’re really just gonna leave? After that?”

You shrugged, cocking a brow. “I mean, I could stay if you let me come with you next week...”

“No chance,” He smiled smugly. “Shut the door on your way out, will you?”

“You know what? I’m never kissing you again.”

“Whatever you say, _____.”

You rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, turning to make your way out of the room. “And I’m leaving the door open!”

“Hm, get home safe.” He called back.

Trying to bite back a smile as you looked over your shoulder back at him, you mouthed a final goodbye and left the office, a rush of feelings suddenly emerging as you stepped out of the clubhouse and onto the street.

You’d just kissed Bucky. You had kissed Bucky. And he had kissed you back. Well, shit.

Did you need to talk about it with him? What it meant for the two of you? Did he just kiss you for the fun of it or did he actually have feelings for you? Ugh. You’d always hated serious conversations, because apparently using sarcasm to cover up actually talking about your feelings was inappropriate and unhealthy. That’s what Peggy always told you, anyway. Perhaps there was no conversation to be had. Bucky could be your summer fling; a couple of months of fun before you were off on your travels again. The only reason he kissed you back might’ve been because he knew you were leaving eventually, which meant he didn’t have to commit to you.

Whatever — you were simply going to go with the flow. If you and Bucky ended up becoming... something more, that would be great. If not, you’d be slightly disappointed, but you’d be out of Brooklyn soon enough to forget about it.

And now, as you tightened your arms around the biker’s waist, you just enjoyed the moment. As someone that rarely stayed in a city for longer than a couple of weeks, enjoying the moment was all that you could do.

* * *

“Pegs, I am working. You can’t just call and ask me this kinda stuff during a shift.”

“I certainly can, especially when I had to hear it first from Steve.”

A strained sign fell from your lips as you leaned against bar, checking that no customers were approaching the counter before you turned your back. “I was gonna tell you, I promise. I didn’t think Bucky was gonna kiss and tell as soon as it happened.”

“I don’t think it was exactly a kiss and tell situation,” Peggy chuckled over the phone. “Steve said it was written all over his face after you’d left the clubhouse.”

Feeling heat rushing to your own face, you lowered your head, hoping no one was observing the bartender getting all embarrassed. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Peggy about your kiss with Bucky. She was your best friend, of course you wanted to tell her. But considering that you weren’t really sure what direction you and him were going in, you thought perhaps that it’d be better to just keep it between you and him, like a Danny and Sandy situation — if everyone had known about their summer affair, it wouldn’t have been the same.

“Can you... tell him to not question Bucky about it?” You asked. “You told me he’d never been in a proper relationship before and neither have I. I think we need to work out... whatever we are ourselves, you know?”

Since the kiss, you hadn’t had the chance to even see Bucky that much. Wanda had been asking you to work more shifts at the bar because one of your co-workers was going on vacation for two weeks, which you didn’t mind doing. Other than hanging out with Peggy and seeing everyone at the clubhouse, it’s not like you had much better to do. Plus, it meant more money to put towards your travels at the end of the summer. At the rate you were earning and including what you already had saved up, you’d be getting your dream London trip a lot sooner than you’d thought.

“Of course, I understand,” She replied. “_____, I— I don’t want to play devil’s advocate, but have you thought about what’ll happen when summer ends? When you leave Brooklyn?”

The thought had crossed your mind, yes, though it was also pushed to the back of your mind whenever it popped up. In all honesty, you had zero clue what’d happen when you left Brooklyn again.

“Nope,” You said defeatedly. “Do I need to think about that now? What if we don’t even last until the end of summer?”

From the pause in conversation, you could just tell that Peggy knew you were bullshitting. “Okay, I’m going to pretend you did not just say that. You don’t just kiss guys, _____. And Bucky doesn’t get all flushed from kissing any old woman. It’s obvious you two click easily, and I honestly don’t think it’s something that can just end once you leave.”

The girl was right, she was completely right, but you weren’t sure what the hell you were supposed to do. It’s not like you could stay in Brooklyn forever and abandon your travels. That wasn’t who you were; staying wouldn’t be you being true to yourself. You couldn’t throw that away for a man you barely knew, a guy that possibly may not want you anymore after the summer ends, though there was a large part of you that didn’t believe that.

“I can’t talk about this right now, Peggy, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the kiss earlier, everything is just... it’s just confusing,” You rambled, wanting to steer the conversation away from your love life for the night. It was nearing nine o’clock, and with an hour still left of your shift, you didn’t want to waste your energy on a conversation that could be had another time. “Anyway, how is everyone? Has Steve heard from Bucky?”

This night was also the night that poor Peter Parker was meant to be carrying out Rumlow’s dirty work, and Bucky was going to get his club to back off. Well, hopefully. He’d already been punched in the face by that bastard once, you hoped that he’d be able to avoid having that happen again. You’d texted him earlier, telling him to let you know when he was home and safe because you would, in fact, worry about him. He teased you for your concern, but you frankly didn’t care. The fact they were having Peter pick up a weapon shipment implied that they wanted to use them to hurt people, and opposing biker clubs seemed like the type of people they’d target.

“They’ve been out an hour, so they should hopefully be back soon,” Peggy assured you. “We haven’t heard from them yet, though.”

“Right,” You exhaled, a little upset that there was no update from them. The sound of the door opening a few metered behind you reminded you that you were still at work, and that you should probably say goodbye to Peggy for the time being. “I’ve gotta go, Pegs — duty calls. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright, darling. Be careful going home.”

With a quiet ‘will do’, you quickly ended the phone call and shoved the device into your jean pocket, turning around to identify the source of the footsteps getting closer to the bar. Well, fuck.

An ugly smirk, scruffy jaw, messy hair — Brock fucking Rumlow was standing right in front of you.

You could’ve laughed, in fact, you did laugh. He was back, even after the embarrassing show he put on last time he was at the bar, and this time, he was alone.

Putting back the glass you’d pulled out from under the bar on instinct, because there was no way you were serving him, you cocked a brow, waiting for him to make the first move.

He slid onto the stool in front of you, the same place he’d sat during his last visit. There was a short silence as his dark eyes roamed your face, before he exhaled heavily. “You not gonna ask for my order?”

“No.” You answered instantly. It looked like he was expecting the cold shoulder from the way he chuckled at your answer.

You wanted to ask what he was doing here, why he wasn’t down at that random warehouse making sure the teenager he manipulated was doing the job correctly, but you didn’t imagine it was a good idea to let on that Bucky was telling you about that sort of stuff. He’d probably try to hurt him as opposed to you, and you didn’t want to put Bucky in any unnecessary shit.

“You know, it’s against the law to refuse service to an innocent customer.”

Clearly, he didn’t know the law at all, but you found it awfully ironic that he was claiming that you were in the wrong side of the law. You cocked your brow higher. “And you’re always abiding by the law, Brock?”

“What makes you think I’m not?” The man narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged nonchalantly. “Last time you were here, you were the one assaulting an innocent customer, and me.”

Brock scoffed. “You’re calling Barnes innocent?”

You only stared at him, waiting for an elaboration.

“Do you know where he is right now?”

Yes — dealing with your bullshit and the rest of your gang.

“Enlighten me.”

“A dirty warehouse across town, meeting a dude that’s sellin’ him weapons. Rifles, pistols, you name it.” He leaned forward on his elbows, pursing his lips.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you met his eyes, dark and full of hope that he’d somehow miraculously turned you against Bucky -- he was going to have to try a little harder than that if he wanted to sell his lies.

“Where are the rest of you pals, Brock?”

He furrowed his brows. “Down at the warehouse, shutting down the deal.”

“And why aren’t you with them, hm? I don’t think it’s ‘cause you decided you wanted a drink over the chance to screw Bucky and his club over.”

The guy clearly thought you were oblivious, that you’d be naive enough to believe that Bucky was the one having Peter collect the weapons instead of him. Maybe he thought it’d turn you against him, and then you’d carelessly join Rumlow’s club without a second thought. Even if Bucky hadn’t told you anything, there wasn’t a thing that could come out of Rumlow’s mouth that could convince you Bucky’s club was doing anything of the sort.

Unfortunately, the comment seemed to tip the conversation in the exact way you hadn’t wanted it to.

Brock’s jaw clenched, eyes hardening as he sat up properly on the stool. “What’s he been tellin’ you, huh?”

“I think it’s time for you to go, Brock.” You glared at the man. There was no way you were letting him sit and annoy the shit out of you when you weren’t going to serve him.

“You see,” He laughed emptily. “If Barnes has been spillin’ things that he shouldn’t be, I need to know. Can’t have any false information spreading.”

“False information, right,” You muttered. In your defense, all you knew about his club was about them manipulating Peter. Though you could assume that wasn’t the only stupid shit they were doing, you didn’t know anything else for sure. “Well, you’re wasting your time. I don’t know anything, so get out of here.”

Brock tutted, rising from his seat and cracking his knuckles. “You’re a good liar, but I ain’t buyin’ it.”

“That’s not my problem,” You glowered, loving quickly around the bar to pace towards the door, opening it in an attempt to lure him out. “You need to go, or I’ll call Wanda over.”

Stalking towards you, the man shook his head. “If Barnes thinks he can tell his little girlfriend all of our business, he’s a fucking idiot,” He took a grasp on your wrist, his other hand curling into a fist. “Someone’s gotta show him what the consequences of that are.”

Anger flashed in your eyes as you struggled against his grip. “Get off me, dude. I don’t know anything.”

“Liar.” He murmured, before taking his fist and colliding it with your cheek abruptly.

A groan of pain left your lips as you stumbled back, the clutch on your wrist gone as Brock eyed you cautiously. Carefully, you brought your hand to where you’d been hit, blood quickly staining your fingertips as they grazed over the cuts on your skin from Brock’s rings. He’d hit you. That stupid, fucking son of a bitch had punched you. If there was any justifiable reason for you to kick him in the balls, this was it, and you were going to take advantage of the opportunity.

He definitely thought you were done with him for the night; you could tell by the way his chapped lips curled into a sick smile. He thought he’d won — how cute.

When your parents made you take self-defense classes ‘just as a precaution’ when you were a teenager, you thought it was unreasonable. Now, you’d never been more thankful.

Brushing your hair out of your face, your eyes flickered up to Brock, who was still staring down at you. Slowly, you moved so that your back was pressed against the closed bar door, clasping your hands around the long metal handle. The man assumed you were just catching your breath, and wasn’t ready for when you forcefully pushed your body forward, raising a booted foot and slamming it into his crotch.

A string of swear words fell from his lips as his upper body fell forward, Fuck it, you thought, striding over to his hunched over form and smashing your own fist against his cheek. He staggered back, just catching himself on the bar. Eyes wide, he raised his head to scowl at you, spitting blood from his freshly split lip onto the floor beside him.

From the other side of the bar, Wanda jogged over to the scene, an unimpressed scowl on her face. “What the hell is going on?”

The woman knew it wasn’t you causing the trouble, and there was even a smug smirk threatening to peak through her annoyed demeanor at the sight of Brock Rumlow with a split lip. She strode over to him, pulling him up harshly by the collar of his jacket.

“You’re banned from this bar. If I see you in here again, you’re getting a bullet straight through your gut, yes?” Wanda practically spat at the man, who nodded reluctantly and pulled away from her grasp. She turned to you, a small smile on her lips. “_____, you’re free to go early. Do you need...?”

Wanda eyed your cut cheek and bruised jaw, but you only shook your head. “Thanks, Wan, but I’ll just head home.”

The strawberry-blond nodded, sending a final glare towards Brock before heading back behind the bar.

Of course, your stubborn self wouldn’t let yourself leave without having the last word, causing you to approach him as he haphazardly stood from where he’d fallen. “If I ever have the displeasure of seeing you again, and you try to hurt me or anyone else, I’ll cut off your fingers and force them down your throat, you got that?”

Before you could wait for an answer, you were spinning around and heading out the double doors of the bar, ignoring the throb on the left side of your face as a satisfied smirk crept onto your lips. You’d never considered yourself to be a violent person, but when it came to assholes like Brock Rumlow, you didn’t mind getting your hands a little dirty. When you told Peggy about what happened, she’d likely scold you for even just mouthing back at him. You had zero regrets, however. You’d always wanted to experience a bar fight, and now you’d experienced one first hand.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Stretching out your aching knuckles, you swiped it from your jeans.

Back at the clubhouse safe and sound. You want me to pick you up from work in an hour?

You chuckled under your breath, typing out a response.

Can you come up now? Wanda let me off early.

Sure, I’ll be there soon. Did you do something special to get off at this time?

Pausing, you debated whether to let him know straight away about the incident. You decided against it; when he saw your face, he’d figure it out soon enough.

Something like that...

After twenty minutes of aimlessly standing outside of the bar, the familiar roar of a motorcycle engine caught your attention. As the bike came to a stop, the beaming headlights had you squinting to even make out the outline of Bucky in the dark. However, judging by the speed at which he was dismounting the bike, you were sure that the light had allowed him to see the state of you.

“Holy shit, _____,” Bucky paced over to you, hands coming to your shoulders. “What the hell happened?”

You let out a hesitant laugh. “Uh, rough shift?”

Scoffing, the biker narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, looks like it. What— are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You assured him, removing his hands from your shoulders and squeezing them comfortingly. “Trust me, you should see the other guy.”

“You were fighting?”

“Bucky,” You intervened, for now deciding against telling him that it was in fact Brock Rumlow you’d gotten on the wrong side of. It’d only result in him marching into the bar himself and starting another disturbance, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Wanda pulled out her pistol again. “C’mon, can we go? My house, the clubhouse, wherever — I’ll explain when half of my face isn’t aching like hell.”

The man paused, eyeing you cautiously before a soft chuckle left his lips. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” You patted his chest, plastering on a smile. “Now come on; I didn’t wait this long to clean you up when you got decked across the face.”

With an amused eye roll, Bucky tugged on your hand and led you to the bike. He’d never seen someone so calm after getting a punch to the face, but then again — as cliché as it was — he’d never met anyone like you before.

Half an hour later, the biker had you sat on the counter-top in one of the bathrooms at the clubhouse, standing between your legs and gently dabbing at your cut with a wet cloth. The bleeding had stopped by the time you got to the clubhouse, but it still needed cleaned up. You were holding a cool ice pack to your jaw, watching him intently as he took care of you. Might as well take the opportunity to stare at the guy, right?

“I’m gonna put some antiseptic cream on the cut, just to make sure it doesn’t get infected.” He muttered, reaching for the tub of it in the wooden cabinet above you.

“Are you getting a sense of déjà vu too?” You quirked a brow, eliciting a smirk from him.

“Hm, a little bit; I guess we both just can’t avoid trouble,” Bucky cupped your jaw as he applied the cream, chuckling when you mumbled a ‘motherfucker’ under your breath at the sting. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

“Well,” You sighed. “Long story short... Brock Rumlow happened.”

Pulling back, Bucky furrowed his brows and waited for you to elongate the story, but you only shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. You knew that Brock being involved would only fuel a rage that he couldn’t relieve.

He bit the inside of his cheek, a frustrated laugh falling from his lips. “Rumlow did this to you? Why didn’t you tell me at the bar? Was he still there? I would’ve went in there and—”

“I know exactly what you would’ve done; why do you think I waited until now to tell you?” Though you were smiling, Bucky was still understandably apprehensive. Pursing your lips, you grabbed one of his loosely clenched fists and held it in your lap. “I meant it when I said ‘you should’ve seen the other guy’ — Brock’s face looks the same as mine and he got a boot to the balls. Plus, I think his ego was bruised enough without someone else going in there and knockin’ his lights out.”

Sighing, Bucky shook his head, unable to suppress a small grin. He never underestimated your power; anyone would be a fool to do so. When you were angry, you showed it. When someone hit you, you hit them back harder, metaphorically and literally. It wasn’t even that you had a short temper, you just didn’t put up with people’s shit, and Bucky highly admired that. “Well, I’m jealous of anyone that was there to see it — I bet it was damn hot.”

You scoffed, though seconds later you were shrugging in agreement. “It definitely was, you would’ve loved it.”

While he returned the first-aid stuff to their rightful places in the bathroom, you explained to Bucky what had gotten Brock so riled up. He wasn’t surprised that Brock tried to convince you that he was the bag guy in all of this; he’d tried to do it with Peggy too when she first started dating Steve. In his misogynistic mind, he thought that women were naive enough to be persuaded of anything that he wanted them to believe, and that by getting you on his side would mean he’d ‘won’ over Bucky. Perhaps he’d learned his lesson that night to not underestimate a woman’s power — dumbass.

Down at the warehouse, they’d managed to get Peter out of there before the person delivering the weapon shipment could arrive. There were one or two of Rumlow’s guys there keeping watch, but without him, they ran away like scared children. You teased Bucky about being a ‘big bad biker’ as he explained the night to you, but he insisted it was Natasha that had them crapping their pants; she never usually made an effort to hide the set of knives on her hip, and she apparently had a death-stare that could have anyone shaking in their boots. With him being banned from Wanda’s bar and unsuccessful with his plan of using Peter, they doubted Brock Rumlow would show his face around the area for a while. He’d only be embarrassing himself if he did.

Not long after your cut had been tended to and the pain in your jaw had subsided, you found yourself once again fighting the temptation to stay the night at the clubhouse — the temptation being a whiny biker named Bucky Barnes.

“But you’ve had a rough day,” He bargained, following after you as you made your way to the front door of the clubhouse. “It’ll save you the ride back if you stay.”

Chortling lightly, you turned around to face him. “A rough day? Buck, I gave an asshole a well-deserved kick in the balls, I’ve had a great day.”

“But what about your cheek? It might start bleeding again and—”

“Bucky,” You cut him off, biting back a smile. “Why do you really want me to stay?”

There was a short pause, heat pooling in the biker’s cheeks at the question as he raised a brow, silently asking you if he was supposed to actually answer the question. When you only quirked your own brow, he sighed, his lips curling into a fond smile. “...because I don’t like it when you leave? ‘Cause I like you a whole lot and I really wanna kiss you again?”

Slowly, you trailed a slightly bruised hand up his chest, stopping at the nape of his neck to tangle your fingers in the hair there. “You should’ve just lead with the kiss, biker.”

Before you could notice the doting grin on his lips, Bucky had looped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to his chest, soft lips locking with yours tenderly. Your other arm was quick to wrap around his neck as you found yourself wanting to be impossibly closer to him. You tugged at his hair, eliciting a deep moan from his lips, and you pulled away with a satisfied smirk.

“So you’ll stay?” Bucky spoke against your lips, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“If you keep kissing me like that.” You imitated his words from your last kiss, to which he shook his head and clasped his hand around yours, leading you out of the hallway and up to his room.

You hoped the rest of the club were asleep, because from the thump of your body being pushed against Bucky’s bedroom door after he’d dragged you inside and shut it, you were sure that they could assume who was causing the racket at almost midnight.

Bucky’s mouth was on yours in a matter of seconds, hands cupping your jaw, carefully avoiding pressing against the side that was bruised. Meanwhile, your fingers gently traced across the hem of his t-shirt, riding it up so that the pads of your fingers came into contact with his lower stomach, ghosting over the waistband of his jeans. He stepped back momentarily, shoving his leather jacket down his arms and letting it fall to the floor.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your jacket,” You breathed. “It’s like you’re naked already.”

“Who said anything about getting naked?” He teased, hands coming to trace over your own exposed stomach. “Someone’s eager.”

“You’re stupid,” You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a grin. “Coming from the guy who just said he liked me, sap.”

“Real mature,” He snickered, riding your shirt up to your chest and tugging it off when you raised your arms to aid him. His lips moved to the crook of your neck, trailing light kissed along the soft skin there. “I meant it, though. I really like you, baby.”

A whimper escaped your lips as his attached to a certain spot on your neck, your hand fisting his shirt in response. You didn’t even have to say it back; it was obvious that you felt the same way about him in pretty much every way. The way your body was reacting to his, the breathy way that his name was falling from your swollen lips, and the fact you’d kissed him the week prior was a good indicator too.

“And you said you’d never get in my bed.” Bucky smirked after helping you pull off his own shirt.

“Technically, I’m not in your bed yet.”

“Yet,” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before trailing his hand down your jaw, along the curve of your shoulder and down to the hem of your bra. “Can’t wait to have you there, moaning all pretty for me.”

Your face grew hot at his words, but his lips were on yours again too quickly for him to notice. When he eventually pulled back for air, you bit your lip in anticipation.

“Hm, let’s not wait any longer then.”

And he didn’t let you wait any longer, leaning down to kiss you with a passionate hunger as he dragged you by both of your hands to his bed. Maybe it was the way he didn’t rush, that he took time memorizing every inch of your skin with gentle lips and wandering hands. Maybe it was the sighs and moans of pleasure that he’d managed to draw from you so easily, or the way he whispered praises and sweet nothings into your ear as he positioned himself comfortably between your legs. But after the two of you had reached your highs and were left grinning like idiots and panting for breath, you realised how fucking hard you’d fallen for the damn biker who’d somehow gotten you in his bed.

* * *

Soft snores gradually drew you from your slumber, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks before you eventually squinted your eyes open. It couldn’t have been any later than 5am; daylight was peaking through the curtains of the bedroom, but the world outside was still quiet. Quiet for New York, anyway.

Bucky had his arms tucked under his pillow, face buried into the cotton, lips parted, brown strands of hair falling in front of his face. Back muscles relaxed, shoulders raising slightly as he breathed quietly. He looked pretty like that, innocent even. Innocent in comparison to what occurred in his bed the night before.

As you idly observed him in his peaceful state, you couldn’t help but think about what Peggy had said to you earlier the prior night. She was right, as always. Especially after the night you’d just had with him, there was no way that your feelings for Bucky would just leave along with you leaving after summer. Perhaps sleeping with him was the stupidest decision you’d ever made. Perhaps it would’ve just been easier to not stay the night and pretend like you’d never kissed him in the first place. But you didn’t want that. You wanted him, even if you could only have him for the summer.

A muffled moan jerked your attention away from your thoughts and back to the man laying next to you, who was shifting as he began to wake, the muscles in his back flexing as he did so. It was a sight you could get used to for sure.

Soon enough, his baby blues met yours, a lazy smile overcoming his lips. “Watching me sleep?”

“No.” You denied, though he could see straight through the lie.

He hummed, reaching a hand out to trace over your bruised cheek. You leaned into the touch. “Still hurt?”

“Not really. Had a good doctor fix it up last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh. I mean, he slept with me afterwards which I thought was a little inappropriate...”

The biker scoffed, enclosing an arm around your bare waist to pull you closer. Sloppy kisses were planted down your jaw to your shoulder, ghosting over the dark bruises he’d marked you with only hours ago.

“I’ll miss you, you know. When you have to leave.” Bucky murmured, pulling away and laying back down against the pillow, his nose grazing yours.

You smiled sadly, pushing some of the hair away from his face. “Do you think this was stupid of us? To start something that’s just gonna have to end in a month?”

“Maybe, yeah,” He mirrored your expression, voice still a little raspy. “But I don’t regret it.”

“Me neither,” You twirled a lock of his hair sigh your pointer finger. “What’re you gonna do without me, huh? You might have to find another girl to take rides with you at sunset.”

Bucky shook his head, squeezing your waist. “Nah, I think I’d rather ride solo. Won’t be the same without you just over my shoulder.”

“Even when I get road rage?”

“Especially when you get road rage.”

“Well, we should probably make the most of the time we have left,” You propped yourself up on one elbow, a smirk playing on your lips. “How about a ride while the sun rises?”

“Sounds perfect.” He loosened his hold on you, letting you roll away from him and swing your legs over the side of the bed.

“Mind if I take a shower first?”

“Mind if I take a shower with you?”

You thought for a moment. It’d be saving water, wouldn’t it? “Screw it, why not. C’mon, Buck.”

You scurried off to the bathroom, still naked as Bucky followed after you, suddenly not so tired anymore.

Perhaps the summer hadn’t went in the direction you’d been expecting, but you had no complaints about the turn that it’d taken. You’d never believed in fate or destiny, much like you’d never believed in love. However, you’d like to believe that you were meant to meet Bucky when you came back to Brooklyn at some point. You’d never met someone— someone so perfect for you, if you were being honest. He didn’t scold you for your sarcasm, or shame you for standing up for yourself. He responded to your teasing with his own, he knew how to make you laugh, how to make your cheeks hot and your knees weak. You were always on the exact same wavelength, always knowing how the other was feeling, being able to bring out the best in one another.

It seemed like a waste to spend the little time left at home thinking about summer ending, so you simply pushed it out of your mind. Enjoying the moment was something you’d learned to do over and over again, because that was all you could do in the life that you led.

The moments spent with Bucky Barnes were just going to be a little harder to let go of.

* * *

Taglist:

@domolovee @oplunket16 @barnestruck @igotkatiepowers

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #biker!bucky #biker!bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes reader insert

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passable-talent · 4 years

Note

Hi yes so I just finished the anakin punk au and it was uh perfect? And you should 100% please write more in that au it doesn’t even have to be in some coherent storyline, just more punk anakin please I am hooked

say no more my dear

I write this. and I think to myself “punks. they like weed. they drink. I should talk about that.”

and then I don’t. because I have a,,, responsibility to promote good health I guess?

don’t do drugs kids. most of them arent worth it i promise

and yes just like i mentioned wattpad in the last one tumblr is coming up on this one we’re breaking the FUCKING fourth wall

part one here

You passed out on his shoulder, exactly as he predicted, at about 2:00 AM.

He didn’t notice for a few minutes, and once he had, he had to make a very hard decision.

He knew you were leaving in the morning, you had other places to be. And he had to get home, Cliegg was going to be pissed he’d been out this late as it was. But- just like you, he never wanted the night to end.

At 2:15, he shimmied out from under you, finding your room key quickly. Once he’d slipped it into his pocket, he picked you up, carrying you all the way back to your room. The door seemed to scream as it opened, but none of the girls were awake. He laid you onto the only empty bed, leaving your room key on the dresser, and kneeled at your beside, for just a moment.

A night he wasn’t going to forget. One he wasn’t willing to leave behind.

He found the notepad left by the hotel for guests and its nearby pen, scribbling his phone number onto it before smacking it onto your room key so that he knew you’d see it.

He wasn’t taking any chances. He did everything he could to make sure that you were safe, that you’d sleep soundly, that he’d see you again. It was a bit of a walk back to where he’d left his car, at the venue, but it was worth it- he shrugged his jacket up around his neck against the cold and kept going, remembering how it’d felt to hold you.

But, in all of his kindness, he had made one mistake. You didn’t get to say goodbye.

You woke up in the hotel room the next morning, for a moment thinking that maybe you’d dreamed the whole thing. But then you realized you still had your shoes on, and you were laying on top of the sheets, why the hell would I do that, and you phone hadn’t been plugged in, and-

And there was a phone number on the dresser.

You weren’t really ‘dating’- you shouldn’t call it that. If you were going to call it that, then there would inevitably be a post on someone’s tumblr that you had a boyfriend, and who was he, where was he from, yada yada... that damn website already had half the internet convinced you were dating Padme, you didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire.

So no, you weren’t dating. But you were texting every day. You learned so much about him, about how he was raised by his mom and worked at her friend Watto’s auto shop, about his step-brother and future step-sister-in-law, how his mom died when he was nineteen, about how he’d tried to move to California with his friend Obi-Wan a few years ago, but it fell through. In return, you told him about your life- living in the outskirts of San Francisco, being pushed into ballet lessons as a kid (as he said- ‘that’s why you look weightless on stage!’), being cut out from your family for quitting college to pursue music.

You texted every day and every night, sent him videos from gigs, and he sent dumb little snapchats from underneath whatever car he was working on. You expected that to be it, probably for a long time- neither of you had the money nor the time to see each other more often. So you held onto the connection you had, the night you’d spent together.

And you thought that’d be it. But- the universe has a funny way of surprising you.

Your record label was based in LA, so you lived in Salta Ana, about thirty miles away, where the real estate was way cheaper. The band lived together, close as four friends could be, so they knew all about how you’d fallen for Anakin. Ahsoka would notice you glued to your phone, and ask snarkily “texting skyguy?” to which you always scolded her that his name was Skywalker.

Living so close to LA made it easy to do gigs at any venue that would take you- bars, clubs, a particularly anarchist biker hall. A bar- such was the case for tonight.

Like usual with a gig like this, Aayla had taken to instagram and called any fan in the area, so the bar was mostly filled with people who knew the music, but there were regulars, too. People who couldn’t be damned to listen to the lyrics, and just let the atmosphere move them.

The setlist changed, when you were at a place like this. You didn’t necessarily rely on the hundred voice chorus that you loved so much, and so couldn’t include some of those songs. Your music strayed a little more to the rock end of the spectrum, when you played in places like this. With that high energy came faster music, more running around the stage, more movement, but you weren’t tired, when the set ended at 11:25. You were more energized than usual, in fact.

“Pads, I’ve never heard you solo like that!” You said, a bright smile on your face as you pushed out of the employee entrance of the bar. She gave you thanks, but not a moment later stopped dead, not saying a word, staring at you. You paused, looking at her, then Ahsoka and Aayla, who’d both stopped, too.

“What?” Ahsoka and Aayla, though, were looking at something past you, which made you realize that Padme was, too. You turned, and leaning against the wall was- was Anakin.

“Oh my god,” you said under your breath, dropping into a run toward him immediately. “Anakin!” He shoved himself off of the wall, letting you run into his arms, and just held you. You pulled away to look at him, amazed that after months, here he was, right in front of you, real.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, bewildered, surprised, ecstatic.

“Visiting Obi-Wan,” he said, and he lifted his hand to your face, giving you a good look at that tattoo you hadn’t quite forgotten, dark lines reaching from his elbow to his palm.

“And you,” he added. You couldn’t help it- you hadn’t seen him in so long, you couldn’t help the way you leaned into it when he pulled you into a kiss, and this time you weren’t exhausted, and you could let yourself feel it, you could pay attention to his chapped lips and the way he slid them over yours, still soft, even after waiting in the cold. You never wanted to leave this moment, like so many of the others that you spent with him, his hands on your face keeping away the January air.

“Yeah, I’m heading home,” Ahsoka said, making you break the kiss. “Coming, or not?” You looked back at her with a bit of a glare, letting Anakin’s hands fall to your neck.

“You guys go ahead,” you said, checking your jacket pocket for the essentials- wallet, phone, house keys. “I think I have a tradition to uphold.”

The bar you’d played at tonight was a bit far away from the place you wanted to take Anakin, but you didn’t mind the walk, since it was with him. You’d been texting every day, and yet it felt different, there was so much more to talk about now.

Apparently, Anakin hadn’t seen Obi-Wan since he’d left to move to LA, so it was a visit to an old friend as much as it was an excuse to see you again.

“So you’re staying with him?” You asked, leading him by the arm down the street.

“Yeah,” he said, hooking his elbow into yours, which let him keep his hands in his pockets. “He’s got an apartment in east LA, it’s got a nice couch.”

“East LA, not bad. What’s he do?”

“He’s a talent manager, actually. Went to business school and everything.” Anakin paused, suppressing a chuckle. “He told me that he’d love to represent you, if you didn’t already have someone.”

“Sadly, we do,” you said, playful, “but I’ll keep him in mind.”

You’d pretend it was the winter chill that brought the flush to your cheeks- he’d told his friend about you. That had to mean you were important to him, right?

“Where are we heading, anyway?” He asked, and you, luckily, could channel your inner dramatic and turn toward the doorway you’d been heading toward all along.

“Right here,” you said, and you took him inside.

This was your recording studio- it was always open, so that any artist could stop in and get out whatever creativity they had. You showed your ID card to the lobby clerk, who approved it and called the elevator. Anakin followed your lead until the door closed, and just like you had on the night you met him, you pressed the button for the highest floor.

“This is one of the buildings for our record company,” you said, the elevator so familiar.

“Which would explain why he let you in,” Anakin said, a slight teasing tone to his voice. All you could do was chuckle, waiting for the elevator to reach the top floor.

From there, you lead him to a glass door, and swiped your ID card through a reader near its frame so you could step outside.

“This is the rooftop set,” you said, gesturing to the wide space, “It’s where we film a lot of music videos.” This close to the door, it was hard to see over the side of the building, and so you took Anakin’s hand.

“The city lights keep us from stargazing,” you said with a smile, and brought him to the guardrail at the edge of the roof. “So I thought I’d show you the city’s version of the night sky.” Looking out across the city, there were a thousand orange sparkles, windows illuminated in buildings stretching as far as the eye could see. Criss-crossed between them were lines of red and white, LA traffic clogging the city streets even so late at night.

No matter how many times you came up here, you’d never get tired of the view. Fifty-five stories up, there were other buildings that dwarfed this tower, but the west was free of them, so your view to the horizon was clear, even in the LA overcast.

“Wow,” he said, looking out over it all beside you. “I’ve never- I don’t think I’ve ever been up this high.” You fixed him with a surprised expression, leaning your elbows down onto the banister.

“No? Really?”

“I didn’t grow up in a city, like you,” he said, settling in beside you, his arm pressed to yours. You let your head rest onto his shoulder, remembering the night you met.

“I’m glad you came out to LA,” you said, “though I’m hoping you’ll stay a while. I want to go on an actual date with you.” You heard him exhale.

“You don’t call this a date?” he asked, and you lifted your head, looking at him, the lights of the city giving his face the slightest, golden glow.

“Well, I mean-” If this was a date, then so had been the one after the show, back in October. Which meant this was your second date, and you’d technically been ‘dating’ this whole time, which kinda made him your- boyfriend?

“Is it?” Anakin slipped his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together.

“This is better than any dinner and movie we could’ve gone to, I think.” He turned over your hand, tracing his first finger over the skyline tattoo that bisected your forearm. “Especially since it seems like this means a lot to you.” You couldn’t believe he’d noticed that tattoo- it meant he really was paying attention to you.

“Yeah,” you said with a smile, lifting your arm up, his hand still held in yours, aligning the tattoo with the skyline you were looking at. “I got this done after we did our first video.” Silently, he examined the ink and compared it to the sky, seeing what you meant.

“That’s really cool,” he said, bringing your hand back down, since his fingers were getting cold in the wind, and he had to assume yours were too.

“How long are you going to be in town?” You asked, resting your temple down onto his shoulder again.

“A week, or so. Watto says he needs me to work on a mustang that we’re getting- I think Cliegg told him to say that since he doesn’t want me in the city.”

“Well, I don’t want to undermine your dad,” you said, “But I wouldn’t complain if you stayed here a lot longer than that.” You ran your thumb over the back of his hand. “It’s really nice to actually have you with me, and not over the phone.” Anakin turned to kiss the top of your head.

“Tell me about it. It’s worse for me, I promise- I listen to your music all the time, and it just makes me want to see you.”

“Sometimes I forget that you were once just a fan,” you said with a laugh, “listening to our music.”

“The luckiest one in the world,” Anakin added, and you almost wondered how you’d ever lived without him.

You let a moment pass, in silence.

“I’m twenty five,” you started, wondering if you had the courage to finish, “do you think I’m too young to be in love?” Anakin didn’t respond, at first. He turned to you, lifting his furthest hand to your face, making you look up at him. You could never get over those blue eyes- you’d forgotten how intense they were.

“I guess it depends on the guy,” Anakin said, his teeth quickly catching his lower lip. “Do you think you are?” You reached up past his arm to his face, your first finger tracing his eyebrow before your palm came to rest on the ridge of his cheekbone.

“No,” you said, and you rushed forward to meet his lips.

-🦌 Roe

#reader insert #imagines #anakin x reader insert #star wars anakin #anakin imagine #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #punk!anakin #singer!reader #modern au #musician au #star wars #fics

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pizzaapplecheese · 3 years

Text

2p Romano

So I made a 2p Italy post a while ago and got an ask to do one for Romano so here it is! before I type anything I recommend looking at the one I did for Italy to get an idea of this ( link ) anyways back on topic, lets talk about my version of 2p Romano.

Romano’s childhood is kind of different from the canon one. most notably Spain made it his goal to avoid Romano. Belgium was usually busy helping Spain; the only person left to look after Romano was Netherlands. Netherlands usually isn’t the warmest of people, he is still blunt and sometimes harsh times. Romano liked how transparent Netherlands and how truthful he is, so naturally he just clinged on to him easier than anyone else in the entire building. Unlike the canon Romano who had at least 3 people to look up to my version only have one and being the attention starved child he was he kind of lowkey attached to him. Netherlands did find it strange how this child looked up to him since there is literally so many people in this entire building and out of all people he chooses him, but Romano did grow on him. Netherlands did feel pitiful towards Romano since no one was giving “her” any attention especially since this castle is a new environment in which it is easy to get lost from. Ned did missed having a younger sibling around. You could be asking about belgium, but keep in mind she is busy with Spain which also translated onto the fact that to Netherlands Belgium practically isn’t here anymore. They hanged out when Romano is having his break from not doing any work and their personalities did rub off on each other a bit. Spain had to leave one day saying he was visiting someone (Italy who got at that time recently amnesia). Romano found that strange, but continued with whatever he was doing. Netherlands found a box full of crochet equipment and went to Romano like “hey, look what i found, do you want to learn how to do this” and since there is nothing to do he tries it and at first he was bad at it and got frustrated, but Netherlands kept pushing him to at least try making 5 squares and if he still thinks it looks bad then he will allow him to quit. The squares did slowly became better and better and Romano in his head was like “wow i did this??????This is actually fun!” and made more even when Netherlands wasn’t there. It was his hobby and later a way for him to vent and somewhat cope to the news. Romano got a letter from Austria/Spain about Italy a few months after Spain left, Romano being a hot headed kid that he is believed that letter was a joke and decided to travel to Austria’s place alone without anyone knowing (which looking back at it as an adult Romano realized that was a stupid thing to do) and when he finally arrived Spain Austria and Hungary tried to stop Romano from entering not knowing that behind that door was someone different, he looked and sounded like Italy, but he is obviously not Italy. Romano saw a stranger. Anyway Romano blows up when Italy acts like he can’t remember the many recent things that happens and after finding that talking to Italy about it was useless he goes towards the adults who tried to not be clear on it except for Hungary who told him what happened with Italy and boy did Romano exploded. No one under any circumstances is allowed to hurt his brother other the only person who is allowed to do it is him. Sadly he was dragged home and needed to wait for a long long time until he could see his brother again.

okay so now let’s talk about Adult Romano of my universe. Where do I begin? the dude is an attention wh*re. Even if someone took a glance at him that is enough to make him feel happy. He loves creating his own clothes and designs and will not stop talking about it and will somehow shift the conversation towards his clothes. Romano is very overbearing to the people he is close to and over dramatic and annoying to everyone else. He worries and cares for Vene a lot and Seborga as well as much as they appreciate it it can be too much. His relationship with the Tomato gang as an adult is petty complicated (almost like in canon lol) He is very close to Netherlands and they would trust each other with secrets so strong that that they won’t tell anyone else with, he is neutral about Belgium (he does find her pretty though), Luxemburg seems cool, He doesn’t know how to feel about Spain considering that Spain did try to stay away from him he still wonders what their friendship could have been like if they were more open, he find Portugal strange. Then we have the Axis, we already spoke about Italy so let's go to Germany. Just like in the canon he is jealous of Germany because of how close his brother is compared to him in here he will go out of his way to make Germany like his servant and will call him to help him when the smallest inconvenience happens as his way of revenge. Their convos are usually like “hey Ger-man I have a question!” “huh yah what is it?” “how do I put a book on a shelf again? I seem to forget” “please tell me you are joking” “wow rude, I always knew you were a brat from childhood, but this a whole new low” “fine I will come over and show you” “thanks!”. Strange thing here is that he is pretty kind to Japan although it have to do with China, Romano would buy Japan small gifts which confuses the hell out of Japan (now typing it I feel like China is the divorce parent of Japan and Romano is trying to win Japan’s approval to marry him-). Now we have the strange 3. I will start on China to fix any confusion on the Japan part. Romano is friends with China, but they are not really that close it is more of them teasingly annoy each other just for fun, like Romano touching China’s Jewelry (China hates when people touch his stuff especially when they are “too poor” for it, but he considers everyone that so eh) and China would pay him money telling him “I am sorry that this the only thing you can live off for the month, but i hope it helps” and it is just counterfeit money. Next we have America who loves to make videos of himself doing stupidly dumb stuff and Romano likes to join in because he likes getting the attention even if it is from strangers online, everyone's surprise why there isn’t a law about leaving these 2 alone together considering the whole bank incident (you guys shall never know what happened). Last but not least we have Lithuania, Romano deeply cares for him and is usually concerned with the guy, but he have no idea what to do so he usually just tries to hang out with him and refuses to talk about anything slightly negative worrying that it will hurt his mood (Lithuania doesn’t really care at this point, but still appreciate Romano’s efforts) they are tea/coffee drinking buddies.

oh my gosh this took so long to do, I am sorry. I had a test so it took longer to make this than expected.

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kasienda · 4 years

Text

Restorative Justice - Chapter 2 - Preparation

Summary: Chloé has never been a fan of Ms. Bustier’s community building activities. In fact, she detests them. She doesn’t want to learn about the drab boring lives of her peers. And she absolutely can’t stand it when their confessions make her feel things. Feelings that she doesn’t even have names for. But when Adrien unknowingly shares his struggles with his double life, Chloé vows she will do anything to get Ladybug set things right. Even if it means pissing off the heroine. Chloé was already mad at her anyway.

Chapter 1 - Community Circle

Chapter 2 - Preparation

Two weeks had gone by and Chloé had made absolutely zero progress in her self-assigned secret mission, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. She had spent hours on the roof of the hotel with the bee signal trained towards the sky both during, and not during, akuma attacks hoping Ladybug would give her the time of day. Chloé wasn’t sure what she was going to say exactly, but she figured Ladybug needed to know that she was going to lose her partner if she kept echoing the way his father treated him. It hadn’t mattered, because Ladybug never came. When the spotted heroine hadn’t shown up over the course of several days, Chloé staged a loud conversation with Sabrina during class about how she wasn’t even going to ask for the Bee Miraculous (though of course Ladybug would be better off with Chloé on her team). She just needed to give Ladybug some valuable intel. But Ladybug still hadn’t shown. And neither had Chat Noir. Which stung more than a little bit. Adrien had heard the conversation as well. And supposedly, he still considered her a friend. At least, that’s what he said when she asked if he was mad at her for something. He had seemed genuinely confused at the question. But it wasn’t like she could follow up with a “Then why didn’t Chat Noir show up on my hotel roof when I asked him to?” She supposed that neither of the heroes truly believed she had anything valuable to share with them. God! She wanted to tear her hair from her scalp in frustration. They were both so dumb!

Keep Reading on Ao3

When contacting them as superheros failed, she figured that she would try their civilian personas. Chloé had taken two steps toward Marinette one morning in the courtyard when the girl was there early for once before promptly changing her mind. Marinette was never ever going to hear her out. As Ladybug, the girl had to at least pretend to be neutral toward Chloé. But as Marinette? Absolutely no way! Really, Chloé didn’t need them to talk to her anyway. She just needed them to talk to each other with complete honesty. But as long as they didn’t know who the other was they couldn’t be that honest. What if she just sent them anonymous notes in their lockers or something? It wouldn’t even have to be long! Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir. Ladybug is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Boom! Done! End of story. Chloé had seriously contemplated it. She had the notes written out and everything. She was just waiting for the opportune moment to slip them into said lockers. But then the whole ‘Lila planting evidence in Marinette’s locker’ thing happened. Clearly, lockers were not secure enough. Chloé had shredded the notes. And unfortunately, the blonde was back to trying to talk to Marinette. Chloé had found her alone at a table in the library during a study period. Marinette had five books sprawled out around her as she frantically scribbled on a piece of paper. Chloé stood in front of the table expectantly. Marinette didn’t even look up. Chloé cleared her throat dramatically, which only earned her a sparing glance before Marinette’s attention was back on her reference book. The blonde thought about just asking if they could talk for a minute, like a normal person, but this was Marinette. And well, Chloé had never been reasonable with Marinette. Especially not when Marinette was ignoring her. So instead, Chloé went and collected two volumes of an encyclopedia before returning to Marinette’s table. She then dropped the books unceremoniously from as high as she could comfortably reach. The heavy blue volumes hit the table with an explosion of sound. Marinette jumped twenty centimeters from her seat, her gaze shooting up in indignant frustration. “Chloé!” she shrieked. “What the hell?” “You were ignoring me,” Chloé observed. Marinette sighed, rapidly moving to collect her belongings. “I seriously don’t have time for this today. Can’t you just disappear until tomorrow or something?” “You need to listen to me!” Chloé insisted. Marinette stacked up her reference books into a neat pile. “I don’t need to do anything of the sort,” Marinette told her before stuffing the last of her work back into her backpack, and leaving the blonde alone at the table. In the library. With dusty books. Ugh. Really, Chloé needed to just lock them in a closet together or something! Surely, Sabrina could come up with some scheme to get them in a room with no windows and a locked door. Surely, the hotel had some storage closet somewhere that they could use. Or maybe something at school would work better. Sabrina was amazing at getting people to do as she wanted. And God, that had come in handy on occasion. Adrien wouldn’t be hard. He might even listen to Chloé, but she’d need Sabrina for Marinette. Only Sabrina could still trick Marinette. It wouldn’t really work though. Marinette would probably love the forced alone time with Adrien. And they were both so stubborn. They’d never reveal their identities just to get out of a locked room. Her fingernails clicked on the desk in rapid succession like a series of grace notes. They wouldn’t reveal their identities for their own convenience, sure. But if someone else needed Ladybug and Chat Noir? So, Chloé would just have to lock them in a room together and then inspire an akuma. It wouldn’t be that hard, would it? And creating an atmosphere for an akuma shouldn’t be that challenging either, should it? Like, she had done it by accident how many times now? How very heroic. She quickly realized it couldn’t work anyway. For them to know about an akuma, they’d have to have their phones, but if they had their phones, what would stop them from contacting Adrien’s bodyguard or Alya and Nino to get out of the room? She had tried to approach Adrien directly, too. She only had the five or so minutes before he had to be in his limo after their last class, being shipped off to whatever lesson he had going on that day. “It’s been a long time since we talked, Adri-kins,” she told him. “We should set up a lunch date to catch up.” He smiled at her. “My schedule is really packed this week, Chloé. Maybe have your people call my people to set something up later in the month?” he said lightly, as he brought his fencing bag to his shoulder. The brush off hurt more than a little bit. But of course he would want to spend every scrap of free time with his close friends. Which was a very short list, and she was clearly no longer on it. Maybe this whole idea wasn’t worth it in the first place. Like, why was she trying so hard to help Adrien when he barely gave her any of his time or attention anymore? “But maybe I have something important and urgent to talk to you about,” she admitted. He tensed, his green eyes giving a cursory glance over her whole form. “Is something wrong?” He reached out a hand to her shoulder. “Has your mother…?” She waved away his physical comfort. “My mother is in New York!” she snapped impatiently. “She hasn’t spoken to me in weeks.” Which meant she couldn’t have said anything hurtful to tear Chloé to pieces. She had no reason to be upset. None at all. But his frown only deepened, and he stepped forward again. And that’s when she realized he probably would make time for her if she asked. The idiot. “It’s nothing about any of that. I’m fine. I’m worried about you,” she insisted emphatically. And with those words he pulled away, and closed himself off immediately. “I’m fine, Chloé,” he told her with that stupid pasted on fake smile. “What could I possibly have to complain about?” he asked her before walking to the door and waving farewell. She had wanted to run after him so she could scream at him. That had been three days ago. She furiously wiped away the tears that were sliding down her cheeks. Why couldn’t she help him? Why wouldn’t he let her? He was growing more withdrawn by the day! Not that anyone other than her seemed to notice. Which she couldn’t understand! It was so obvious! When he had first come to school, he had been an excited puppy anytime anyone included him in a conversation or invited him to some social outing. Chloé had assumed that the novelty of school and peers would eventually wear off, but a solid year later, it hadn’t. He was still an excited puppy with any scrap of affection. Or he had been until recently. Adrien had been far less animated for the past week. He still smiled and said all the right things when people engaged with him, but it wasn’t real. He was going through the motions. Pulling out the politeness and the charm that had been drilled into him as a child that grew up in the spotlight. And normally, Chloé could have dismissed the change in behavior as a sign of fatigue. The akumas recently had been constant and brutal, and Gabriel showed no signs of easing up on Adrien’s commitments or expectations. But it was more than that because he hadn’t transformed gradually over time as his responsibilities built up. No, he had changed from puppy Adrien to polite Adrien in the span of a few minutes. From sunshine-child to creature-of-the-night literally instantaneously. Chloé had been in class sitting next to Sabrina as always, working on their project. Or well, letting Sabrina take notes on their project, but whatever. Ayla and Marinette sat in their usual seats with their heads together with Nino sitting a few feet away occasionally laughing or shaking his head at whatever nonsense they were saying. Then Adrien had arrived late to class from a photoshoot of something. “What are you guys talking about,” he had asked as he took his seat next to Nino. “N-nothing!” Marinette had stammered, her face turning tomato-red. Nino rolled his eyes again. “Don’t worry about it, dude. Girls are crazy.” And Chloé had watched Adrien’s shoulders stiffen. And his eyes go flat. And of course there was that stupid polite smile in place. He was upset. He was upset that they his friends were keeping things from him. And of course the other three keeping secrets from him would drive a wedge into his soul. How could they not know that? Chloé didn’t care that they were doing it to protect whatever was left of Marinette’s dignity. Chloé didn’t care about Marinette’s dignity at all. They were hurting him. Making him think they didn’t trust him either. Just like his father. Just like Ladybug. And since that day, he had stopped initiating conversations. He didn’t talk about his favorite video games, or whatever anime he had binged that past weekend. He didn’t light up like a supernova when Nino asked him to come to a party or the girls invited him out to ice cream. And worse, he wasn’t accepting their invitations. He was making excuses for why he couldn’t even try. Not even real excuses like whatever stupid lessons his father had him taking, but fake ones about being tired or needing to study. As if! Adrien didn’t really need to study. He was one of those obnoxiously intelligent kids who just absorbed academic knowledge through osmosis or whatever. And even if he needed to study, (which Chloé still doubted), he wouldn’t miss out on time with his friends to do it. He would just stay up all night instead. But he was declining invitations and she guessed everyone was just so accustomed to him not being able to come, that they didn’t notice he had stopped trying. And the second his friends’ eyes were off him, he would wilt like a plant without water. And his so-called friends didn’t notice that either! Not even Nino. But Chloé noticed.

And she didn’t like it. And as loathe as Chloé was to admit it, Marinette wasn’t faring any better. She was probably worse actually. The part-time superheroine had bags under eyes, and she was constantly falling asleep in class only to wake up screaming in pure terror. Chloé did not want to know what those nightmares were about. Then, the civilian side of Paris’s savior and super heroine had randomly burst into tears at least twice in the last three days, and refused to explain to anyone - even Alya - what was upsetting her. But that didn’t mean Chloé had to help her. Marinette had made it clear that she didn’t want Chloé’s help, which was just fine because the feeling was completely and thoroughly mutual. Marinette had always acted like she was some great authority on moral goodness. But Chloé knew Marinette was selfish, too. Marinette neglected responsibilities for her own gain, she lied more frequently than anyone realized, and she pushed her way into situations that were none of her business thinking she knew better than everyone, often making everything worse! Marinette always assumed the worst of Chloé even when she legitimately was trying to help. Which is likely why Ladybug had always assumed the worst of Chloé even in the very beginning when Chloé had tried to help her locate Vanisher’s akuma. Why Ladybug had been so insistent on seeing the worst in Queen Bee even right after she had helped Ladybug and Chat Noir rescue that runaway speed train. The heroine hadn’t been wrong in that instance, but that was hardly the point! But then, something had changed when her father had been akumatized the first time. And the spotted heroine Chloé had so admired offered her compassion, a shoulder to cry on, and a second chance. Told her she wasn’t useless and could become a hero if she wanted to be. Had invited her, Chloé, to race across rooftops and serve as her partner against a vicious akuma, when Chat Noir had been mentally transformed into an actual cat. And for the first time in a long time, Chloé had had hope that she could become something… better. Something… worthwhile. No matter what her mother said, or her classmates thought of her - she could be a hero. Someone others trusted without question, someone people respected, looked up to, and emulated. Chloé didn’t know how to be that person, but she knew that she wanted it. And that she was willing to try. But then a few weeks later, Paris’s heroine had taken it all back. Even after Chloé fought against Hawkmoth with her. Even though Chloé hadn’t done anything differently. Even though she had tried to find others ways to build herself up instead of tear others down by making collages of selfies and videos dressed up as Ladybug rather than targeting others. None of it had mattered. Ladybug had just stopped coming to her with the miraculous. And then, right after Chloé had managed to fight off an akuma all on her own, Ladybug had shown up and said she’d never get the miraculous again because people knew who she was? It was a load of bullshit! Because that hadn’t mattered when her father was akumatized, it hadn’t mattered on Heroes Day! Which led Chloé to one inescapable conclusion - Ladybug was just like everyone else. Someone who changed the rules when it suited them, went back on their word without thought, and wasn’t nearly as kind or compassionate as she pretended to be. Really, Chloé should have known better than to ever hope. She shoved her notebook off the table in front of her, sending it flying into the back of Ms. Bustier’s desk with a satisfying bang when the metal furniture snapped back into form. “Chloé?” Chloé started at the voice of concern. Ms. Bustier slipped into the classroom from the door in the back and quickly approached her. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing!” Chloé spit out venomously, whirling away from her teacher towards the front of the room. Ms. Bustier put down her bag at her desk, rolled the chair from her desk in front of Chloé’s table, and took a seat. Chloé shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t want to talk out her feelings. “What were you working on?” her teacher asked, her voice calm and smooth as a still lake. Chloé shook her head rapidly. “Nothing! It was a stupid idea. I’m clearly not cut out for it.” “Maybe you just need some help,” was the gentle suggestion. Chloé sighed glancing up into the warm face of her teacher. “I… was trying to fix something. But I should’ve known better. I’m really good at making a mess of things. The idea of me fixing something is ridiculous.” Utterly ridiculous. Silence permeated the otherwise empty classroom. It was stifling. Chloé stared into her hands, folded under the desk. Her teacher remained silent, sending her emotions spiraling down to new depressing depths. Even Ms. Bustier didn’t know what to say. Clearly, Chloé was a lost cause. And so was her self assigned mission. “Do you want help?” Chloé looked up, searching the compelling green eyes of her teacher. She seemed earnest in her concern, but Chloé has been burned before. Her childhood nanny, Adele, had promised to help her, too. And then the petite woman had gotten herself fired and Chloé had never seen her again. It’s not like Bustier could actually help, anyway. But then, another thought struck through her psyche like lightning. Ms. Bustier totally could make a couple of kids sit alone in a room together. In a fucking circle. But Chloé hated circles. She took a deep breath. This was for Adrien. For Adrien. For Adrien. “Could… could we maybe do one of those circles? Not the community one, but the other one when people are fighting?” Ms. Bustier raised an eyebrow. “You want to do a restorative circle? Did I hear that right?” Want was not the correct word. But Chloé had tried everything she could think of. And at least the circle didn’t require getting someone akumatized. She forced herself to nod. Her teacher leaned forward and put a hand on Chloé’s knee. “Did something happen? Are you and Sabrina not speaking?” Chloé physically recoiled at the very idea. “What?! No! Sabrina is great. No… this would be with...” her indignation evaporated instantly, and she found her gaze glancing over the shoulder of her teacher’s white blazer. “With Marinette and Adrien.” Ms Bustier sat up straighter. “You’re just full of surprises today, Chloé.” Chloé risked another glance up, but her homeroom teacher was smiling. “Okay, and was anyone else affected by this conflict? Anyone else that you think is involved or might have hurt feelings? Or anyone else that hurt you in this same conflict?” Chloé cocked her head to the side, letting herself consider the question. Really, it just needed to be Marinette, Adrien, and Chloé. But… Alya’s presence could prove to be incredibly useful. And if Alya was there, Nino would likely reinforce everything the brunette would say… The only problem was involving more people would piss off Ladybug even more. Chloé grinned at the thought. She had never been above getting a bit of revenge when it was deserved. (And maybe undeserved). All five of them it would be. “Césaire, Lahiffe, and Adri-kins,” Chloé supplied. Bustier went to her desk and retrieved a notebook and quickly wrote down the names. “What happened?” Chloé hesitated. Technically, nothing had happened, though of course she and Marinette had a ton of history, dozens of fights and altercations that she could pull from, and yet… “I tried to tell Marinette something really important. But she won’t listen to me. And I can’t totally fault her for that, but this is really really important. Like fate-of-the-world-important!” she exclaimed, her hand stretching out to indicate the scope of the situation at hand. “What is it that you want to tell her?” “That she’s a blind self righteous know-it-all,” Chloé ranted. “And she needs to knock it off because she’s hurting someone that we both care about.” “Adrien?” Ms Bustier guessed even as she was taking notes. Chloé nodded. “Yes, Adrien, but she doesn’t even know that she’s hurting him because he will just sit there and take it! He’ll never say anything,” she lamented, her lips twisted into an indignant sneer. “But eventually he’s going to break, Ms. Bustier. And I don’t want to see that! I’ve been trying to get her to talk to me so I could give her some context and explain what she was doing, but she ignores me completely, or won’t even let me say hello before she declares she doesn’t have time for me and runs off!” “I can see how that would be frustrating for you, Chloé,” Ms. Bustier empathized. “But I also need you to understand that the purpose of the circle is to heal things between you and Marinette. It is not so you can yell and berate her when she is not allowed to leave. Do you understand?” Chloé sighed, but nodded anyway. “Now, do you have any idea why Marinette might be acting this way? Any reason at all that Marinette might distrust you or be unwilling to hear you out?” Chloé glanced away toward the classroom window, her righteous anger fading. When she turned to the front again, her gaze remained locked on her nails. “Perhaps,” she admitted, her voice carefully flat. “I may have antagonized her unfairly once or twice in the past.” Ms. Bustier’s lips trembled as if she was trying not to laugh. Chloé huffed out a sigh. “Okay fine, I’ve done a lot to her over the years. But that’s not true this time! Listening to me would make her life far less stressful and get her closer to Adrien.” “That’s quite the claim,” Ms. Bustier commented neutrally. “It’s the truth!” she declared hotly. “Okay. I believe you. Now, is there anything specific that happened recently that would cause Marinette to be more irate with you than she usually is?” Chloé glanced down at her nails, but she really didn’t know what to say. Did throwing a fit when Ladybug said she could never have the Bee Miraculous back count? Because the truth was, since Chloé had figured out the heroine’s identity, she had no idea why Ladybug had given her a chance in the first place. And she was just as confused as to how she had managed to lose that chance a few weeks later. Chloé certainly hadn’t treated Marinette any worse than she normally did in the intervening time. She had even teamed up with the girl once so they could keep Kagami away from Adrien! Ms. Bustier sighed, placed her pen down on her notebook, and leaned forward. “Chloé, in order to facilitate a restorative conversation between you and Marinette and the others, I need to prepare. I can only do that if you tell me what happened.” The blonde nodded. What could she tell her that would be useful in Ms. Bustier being prepared? “I…. figured out one of her secrets, something that is really important to her. And then I told her friends.” “They didn’t already know?” Chloé shook her head. “How did the others react?” Chloé pursed her lips in thought. How would the others react? Adrien was going to turn into a puddle of goo. Alya probably wouldn’t be much better, but she would feel guilty as hell for the whole Lila debacle. Nino was a rock, so Chloé had no idea how he would respond. But Marinette? She was going to be out of this world pissed. And for a second, Chloé hesitated. “Chloé?” “You think I took the time to talk to the plebians?” she countered hotly, too late to actually be convincing. Bustier raised an eyebrow. Chloé wilted. “Okay, fine!” she relented. “But I really don’t know. I could guess, but I didn’t stick around to see their reactions directly,” she improvised on the spot. “Why did you tell them?” She glanced down into the palms of her hands. “Because… they needed to know,” she admitted softly. “They can’t help her if they don’t know. And she…” she was drowning and Chloé worried how long it would be before Marinette was the akuma. And then where would Paris be? “Despite what she thinks, she can’t do what she does alone. She needs them. Especially Adrien.” Chloé clutched at her head with both hands. God! What was wrong with her?! Why was she even trying to help Marinette? Marinette would only be livid. She wouldn’t be grateful. She certainly wouldn’t give Chloé another chance with the Bee Miraculous. This was supposed to be for Adrien! Adrien was the one who deserved to be seen and appreciated. Maybe it was for both of them. Maybe Chloé didn’t need anything in return. She looked up to see Ms. Bustier smiling at her. “And what was this secret?” her teacher asked. Chloe balked. She knew it was silly. Ms. Bustier was going to know everything tomorrow anyway. But she was afraid Bustier would back out if she knew the full extent of what this was about. “I’d rather not say.” Her teacher’s green eyes considered her for a moment, and Chloé had to look away again. She sighed again before the educator spoke. “Thank you for telling me this bit. I need to interview the others and understand their side of the story and then we’ll get something scheduled.” Chloé jumped to her feet, shaking her head violently. “No! You absolutely can not talk to them beforehand!” Ms. Bustier was not disturbed by Chloé’s outburst. “And why not?” “Because Marinette will never ever agree to this if she knows what it’s about. Trust me. But she’s wrong. She needs this. Actually, we all do. I promise, everything is my fault. It’s not theirs.” The words fell out of her mouth unfiltered like a runaway train. “Chloé, I have rarely encountered a conflict where one side was wholly at fault. I’m sure the others have contributed.” This track wasn’t working. “I won’t participate if you talk to them beforehand,” Chloé threatened. “That’s not how this works, Chloé.” “Please!” Chloé begged. “You don’t understand. I can’t explain completely, but Marinette will not come if she knows what it’s about. I’ve already tried like four times this week! We have to blindside her.” “What is it about?” “But Ms. Bustier! This secret… it’s really…” Chloé stammered, searching for words that would not come. “It puts Marinette in a really vulnerable position. I’m not willing to tell you on the off chance that you are not able to pull off this circle. But if we do meet and I am able to actually talk to her, I think the benefit will outweigh the drawbacks of you knowing.” Ms. Bustier’s green eyed gaze pierced through her, and Chloé found it difficult not to fidget on the spot. “You’re asking me to put a lot of faith in you, Chloé,” she finally said. “I know!” Chloé conceded, bowing her head down. “And I realize I probably don’t deserve it.” “I didn’t say that,” her teacher interjected. “But I’m trying to be worthy of it. I swear! I’m trying to be better,” her gaze fell to her shoes. Two fingers on her chin gently urged her gaze up. “All you have to be, Chloé, is yourself.” Chloé’s squeezed her eyes shut, trying to suppress the sudden burn behind her eyelids. She shook her head in denial. A warm hand fell onto her shoulder and squeezed reassurance. Chloé shrugged it off. She didn’t want to admit the contact felt good. She shouldn’t need reassurances like that. She couldn’t afford the weakness. “Just to warn you, Marinette is going to be absolutely pissed. You may think you’ve seen her in self righteous must-fix-all-the-injustices-in-the-world Marinette mode, but this will take things to an entirely new level. And you probably should just let her fly off the handle. I don’t need her to be respectful. I probably don’t deserve it anyway.” Ms Bustier offered a gentle smile. “We all deserve respect, Chloé. But we can also create the space for Marinette to air her grievances and for you to be treated with respect.” Chloé appreciated Bustier’s confidence, but she also knew the teacher only knew the tip of the iceberg. “Ms. Bustier?” she asked softly. Ms Bustier looked up from her notes and gave Chloé her attentive gaze. “Yes, Chloé?” Chloé swayed from one foot to the other, her hands fidgeting at her waist. “Can I ask about the “honor privacy” norm?” Ms. Bustier nodded. “What about it?” “Are you included in that? Will you respect Marinette’s and everyone else’s privacy?” “I’m required by law to report certain things like child abuse or suicidal thoughts, but I will honor privacy in all other respects.” Chloé bit her lower lip. Where did having a secret identity that required you to constantly put yourself in harm’s way fall into that? “So like... any time a student is in danger?” she suggested. Her teacher nodded even though she was taking down notes into her notebook. Chloé cringed. Yeah, this was probably definitely something that fell into the category of something a teacher was required to report. “But…” Chloé glanced away again. “What if reporting it increased the danger they were in?” Bustier looked up at her then and frowned. “Are you in danger, Chloé? Is Marinette?” Oh, what the hell?! In for a penny, in for a pound. “I’m in danger all the time,” Chloé explained with a straight face and was pleased to see Ms. Bustier’s face frowning in growing concern. “I’m Queen Bee,” she declared. Ms Bustier’s frown transformed into an amused smile. “If you wanted that to stay private Chloé, you probably shouldn’t have announced it on live television.” “But that’s my point. I’m always in danger because people know my identity. Papillon knows, and he’s already used me to get to Ladybug before.” Her teacher softened. “Are you worried that he’s going to try again?” “No! I…” she threw her hands down in frustration. “I can’t put this into words!” “What does this have to do with Marinette?” “N-nothing.” Chloé wondered one again, why she was stalling. If her plan worked, Bustier was going to know everything by the end of day tomorrow anyway. “I was just trying to give you an example where sharing the knowledge of a student being in danger would put them more in danger.” Ms. Bustier put her hand on Chloé’s shoulder again, and this time Chloé allowed the warmth to remain. “I can appreciate the nuance of such a situation,” her teacher reassured. “I would never put a student in danger if I can help it. You must understand though, sometimes my hands are tied by legal requirements.”

Chloé nodded, figuring that was close enough. Surely, there wasn’t a specific law about teachers being mandated to reveal a superhero’s identity. There had never been enough instances of teenaged superheroes to codify that kind of requirement. Right? Ms. Bustier smiled kindly at her. “Is there anything else you want to tell me, Chloé?” Chloé pursed her lips. “Not really, no,” she concluded. “May I ask you a question?” The blonde nodded her assent. “Why are you doing this now? Trying to make amends with Marinette, I mean?” Chloé fidgeted nervously. She still didn’t really know how she felt about Marinette. Or about Marinette being Ladybug. But that’s not why she was doing this anyway. “I’m doing it for Adrien,” she finally admitted. “He needs Marinette to actually see him. I don’t know what will happen to him if she doesn’t. I’m really scared for him.” “It’s not Marinette’s responsibility to save him, you know?” “Maybe not, but she’ll want to. When she has the full picture she will love him better than anyone in the whole world. And if she doesn’t, I will be there to grind her face into the ground.” “Chloé…” Ms Bustier chastised disapprovingly. Chloé held her hands up in mock surrender, but she wasn’t actually sorry. She meant it. If Marinette didn’t learn to better appreciate her partner, Chloé would definitely make certain she regretted it. … Chloé walked out of Bustier’s classroom after class feeling more optimistic than she had in the last sixteen days. Ms. Bustier had passed out slips to the five of them requesting their presence at the next day’s lunch period for a restorative circle, which meant this was actually going to happen. Maybe by end of day tomorrow she would see Adrien’s megawatt smile again for the first time in weeks. But Chloé still had one loose end to take care of before she was confident that she could push Marinette into being honest. And that loose end involved Alya. And Chloé couldn’t even delegate the task to Sabrina because that would reveal identities to a civilian, and while Chloé was all for pissing Ladybug off, she did understand the danger of too many people knowing. Not to mention, she didn’t want Sabrina in danger more than she had to be. Sabrina was able to tell her Alya’s whole schedule though. So that was helpful. Chloé left her things with Sabrina with directions to deliver her bags to her car, and left “to go to the bathroom” ten minutes before the last class was over to wait outside Césaire’s 6th period. She was lucky that apparently Marinette didn’t share the class. Alya was one of the last to leave. But when she walked out the door, Chloé immediately fell into step beside the Ladyblogger. “I need to talk to you,” Chloé began without preamble. Alya cast her a dark look. “Why would I want to talk to you?” Chloé tried not to growl. She was only half successful. “It’s about Marinette. She needs your help.” “Why should I believe you about anything regarding Marinette?” Alya snapped, readjusting her bag on her shoulder and picking up her speed, not bothering to make eye contact. Chloé matched her pace easily. “You eat up everything Rossi says about her like a child eats up candy! I thought you’d believe anything,” Chloé shot back. “This conversation is over,” Alya declared cooly, whirling away. Chloé scurried after her. “No wait! I’m... I’m sorry.” That got Alya to pause. “You’re what?” “You heard me,” the blonde growled back. Chloé wouldn’t say it again. No friggin’ way. “So, are you going to listen now?” “This has gotta be big if it got the high and mighty Chloé Bourgeois to apologize for something,” Alya reasoned even as she let her bag fall unceremoniously from her shoulder to the ground as she turned to Chloé. “Marinette needs your help. Adrien does too. But they’ll never come clean on their own and certainly not at my suggestion. I need you to come clean first.” Alya’s dark eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “Come clean about what?” “About being the Fox.” Alya stared at her, her auburn eyes as wide as the Seine. “What?!” she hissed, suddenly up in Chloé’s face. Chloé held her ground, but didn’t resist Alya getting in her space. “I can’t explain. Ladybug will kill me. But tomorrow, Ms. Bustier is going to pull the five of us together.” “Five of us?” “You, me, Nino, Adrien, and Marinette. I’m going to introduce myself as the Bee. I need you to introduce yourself as the Fox. Please! It’s for Adrien... and Marinette too.” She tacked on as an afterthought. “Please trust me as one partime hero to another. I swear, I’m trying to help.” Alya shook her head, her eyebrows furrowed together like an angry cat. “I won’t betray Ladybug’s trust.” “You’ll be helping her!” Chloé countered. “And Marinette too.” “No way, Chloé. You can’t trick me.” And with that, the would-be-journalist stomped off. Chloé watched her go. “Well, that could have gone worse.” ...

#miraculous ladybug fanfiction #chloé bourgeois #marinette dupain cheng #implied child abuse #restorative justice #redemption #hashing it out #planning #asking for help #healing from trauma #community circle #my own content

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