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sapphirefallschronicles · 2 years ago

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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Welcome to Sapphire Falls - chapter 18 ❜┊˚̥۪͙۪◌

Basketballer!Chris Evans x Abigail Syverson (plus size!ofc) & Farmer!Syverson x Livia Darmandi (Asian ofc)

Summary: Abigail and Chris make up and decide for an impromptu photoshoot.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Usage of THAT photoshoot 0.0

The Advent Calendar (a.k.a. the masterlist)

‘So,’ I tell Honey and the rest of the apparent demonic goat gang–though I think they are more of an angelic goat gang, because those faces are so damn adorable–‘Chris was a total idiot and I hate myself for falling for him.’

Honey bleats and I interpreted like she’s agreeing with me on Chris being a total idiot.

‘Sy is currently weighing the pros and cons of murdering him, and I think Livia talked to Chris, because that’s what she always does. I just don’t know what to tell him when he does manage to come here.’

It’s now Honey’s mom's turn to bleat.

‘You think I should tell him to fuck off?’ I ask her. ‘That is what I most likely want to do. He really broke my heart, you know.’

Mom bleats loudly again, and jumps away. ‘You agree with me, right?’

Honey jumps up and down in front of me, begging for some attention. ‘I’m currently asking for love advice from goats. I think I’ve reached another low point in life.’ I sigh deeply.

I never thought Chris and I could be together as a couple. I dreamed of it, obviously, hoped even, but every time we would get close, something would happen. It was like the universe was telling us it was a bad idea.

So when he showed up again a few days ago, and asked me to the benefit as his date, I started to think that maybe our time had come. But yet again, the universe had different plans.

However unlike the other times we were interrupted, Chris could have done something about it. He could, no should, have said something.

I thought about that moment over and over, and my anger has made place for disappointment. But the anger was still there.

The front door opens, and I hear Sy coming out. I turn around, and he gives me a little wave before he gets in his truck while waving with grocery bags. I turn my attention back to the goats, thinking about the situation over and over.

After Sy left the ranch, it takes approximately five minutes before Chris walks onto our land. Which tells me he has been lurking.

I want to say he needs to leave, that he can drop dead for all I care about and that he needs to go back to Bethany, however I don’t say that, because I don’t mean it. Deep down I’m glad he continues on to try to talk to me and with Sy away, we maybe can talk to each other. Dealing with one stubborn Syverson twin at a time might be hard enough already.

But what do I say to him?

Chris slowly approaches, and doesn’t say a word as he stands next to me, keeping a safe distance between us.

‘Can we talk?’

I thought I wanted to talk to him, but hearing his voice and him say the word ‘talk’ actually awakens the anger in me. ‘Talk? So, now you have something to say?’

‘Abi, I’m sorry. None of that should have happened.’ Chris sounds nervous. He even looks nervous, shifting from his left to his right foot. ‘I shouldn’t have let her talk to you like that.’

I snort, followed by a fake laugh. ‘And why didn’t you say that when that skinny bitch was hanging around your neck? That’s the moment you should have talked.’ I spat out. ‘But it was clear you’d rather be there with her anyways, not me.’

‘I freaked out. Seeing her was difficult. But I did not want to be there with her. I wanted to be there with you, only you.’ He inches closer, and because in my heart I want to believe him, I let him.

‘So, because you freaked out, you let her talk to me like that?’

He rubs the back of his neck, and he opens his mouth a couple times before he finally talks again. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Chris, you just don’t get it,’ I say to him. ‘I’ve never been someone’s first choice. You have, you are always the first choice, but not me and I am sick of being second.’ Sick of being your second.

He falls silent for a moment. I feel like going crazy, I want to kick him out of the barn, to be alone again. ‘I’m sick of you walking out on me,’ I add with a small voice.

‘You’ve never been a second choice,’ Chris suddenly says, scraping his throat.

‘What do you mean?’ I scratch Honey behind her ears, unable to keep my hands still. What does this mean?

‘You’re mine.’ He scratches his beard, and when I look to the side, I don’t see the usual confident Chris. No, I see the insecure Chris, the Chris who is looking for words he cannot find, the Chris who wishes he could disappear through the floor. Usually, when I saw this Chris, he would make sure he would get out of the situation as soon as possible. But he was still standing next to me, not making a move to leave.

‘I’ll always pick you first, Abi. I know I’m not great at showing that, and I’m so sorry for that. I wished I acted differently at the benefit. I guess I was overwhelmed, not prepared for something like that to happen. That is not an excuse, let that be clear,’ Chris says. ‘I hate that I hurt you.’

Chris had never been a man of many words, especially not emotional ones, so hearing him say this, meant something for me.

Now it was my turn to fall silent. He’d pick me first. Pick me first how?

‘I promise you, I’ll never let something like that happen again, okay?’ He softly grabbed my hand, and nudged his shoulder against mine. ‘And I will never walk out on you again. I know I did, but that was the biggest mistake I ever made.’

‘Okay,’ I smile and I turn to look forward to him. ‘But seriously, not another time. I cannot handle that,’ I add. Chris nods, and I can tell he knows I’m serious. ‘This does not mean I have forgiven you 100%.’

‘I know.’

We look back at the goats, watching as Honey chases her mom.

I think about what we just said, and while it was a good talk. I still had questions. I still need to know what he meant. What did he mean when he said he’ll always pick me first? I want to ask, but I’m also terrified by the answer. What if it’s not what I want it to be? Or what if it is what I want to hear?

‘What do you mean by always picking me first?’ I ask, my heart racing. I had to ask, and I know it was now or never. If the moment was over, I knew I would never ask.

‘What do you want it to mean?’ Chris throws a curveball, a smile toying on his lips.

I take a moment to think about the answer. I do know what I want, but I also know I’m terrified to actually say it.

‘Do you mind if I take a little time to answer that?’ I stare at my hands, avoiding Chris’ gaze. I am speaking the truth, I need more time to be honest with him. I need more time to open myself up, to let him in.

‘Anything you need.’ Chris softly grabs my chin, and makes me look at him. His eyes bore into mine, and I feel like my entire body is on fire. I’ve been through so many emotions in the last couple of minutes, and I feel like my body is about to explode. Especially with Chris touching me.

The green shirt he’s wearing is driving me insane. I need to get out of here, before I do things without sorting my thoughts out.

‘Why don’t I grab my camera, and we go out for a walk?’ I suggest.

●・○・●・○・●

Chris and I walk through the forest, and chit chat about daily life in Sapphire Falls versus Chicago. I feel a sting in my heart when he tells me about life in the latter. One day I hope to see it with my own eyes, to live a life like that myself.

Maybe with him by my side.

He did hurt me, but maybe I overreacted. I tend to react quickly to situations, while Chris had always needed a moment to react. Outside the basketball court at least.

‘I’m glad I brought my sunglasses today,’ Chris says, pulling me out of my thoughts. ‘I love a bit of sunshine in December, but damn, this is insane.’

I laugh, the weather in Sapphire Falls has always been weird in the winter. It could either be stone cold or fairly warm. Snow on the other hand rarely happened.

Today is one of those days where it was fairly warm. Chris had already left his jacket at the barn, and I left my jacket home as well, wearing a sweater being warm enough.

We approach Honey Bee Farm again, and Chris lowers his speed. ‘You have not taken a picture of me today,’ he abruptly says.

‘Do you want me to take a picture of you?’ I chuckle. Photographing this man was not unpleasant to say the least.

‘Hell yeah!’ He stops walking, and spreads his arms out wide. ‘Where do you want me?’

‘Just walk around I guess?’ I lift my camera up, and start taking pictures of him as he moves around, picking up random items lying around the farm.

He suddenly runs away, disappearing behind some bushes. ‘Where are you going?!’ I yell after him.

‘Look what I’ve found!’

I walk around the bushes, to find him stretched out on a lounge chair. At first I want to laugh, but seeing him sprawled out makes my heart beat faster.

Quickly I raise my camera, capturing the moment. He even had the audacity to unbutton the shirt, to reveal his chest tattoos.

Chris moves around on the old lounge chair, while I give him directions on where to look. The looks he throws at me are sending shivers down my spine.

Before I could turn into a puddle, the lounge chair starts making a noise. And another one.

A loud cracking sound followed, and Chris suddenly wasn’t on the chair anymore, but on the grass underneath.

We burst out in laughter, and I tighten the grip on my camera.

All of a sudden we hear a truck driving onto the driveway. Sy’s back.

‘I think I should go, before Sy murders me,’ Chris says and we had finally stopped laughing.

‘That might be a good idea. I should tell him he can stop sharpening his axes,’ I smile.

Chris shakes his head, and pulls me in for a hug. I rest my chin on his shoulder, and take in his scent. A little musky, earthy.

The hug lasts a little longer than the usual ones, and once we let each other go, I start thinking maybe I should let Chris back in, to see what could happen.

●・○・●・○・●

#Welcome to Sapphire Falls #Welcome to Sapphire Falls Masterlist #diegos-butt & keanureevesisbae advent calender #Chris Evans #Henry Cavill #Syverson #Basketballer!Chris Evans #Farmer!Syverson #Plus size!ofc #Asian!ofc #chris evans x plus size ofc #henry cavill x asian ofc #chris evans x ofc #henry cavill x ofc

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my-head-is-an-animal · 1 year ago

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The Sitter

Mycroft Holmes x Bethany Wheeler (OFC)

Story Masterlist

Chapter 6 - Using Again

The next morning was not what Mycroft had hoped it would be. He’d woken up early to go through his usual routine on the treadmill, receiving a text from Bethany while he showered.

I had a wonderful time last night, Mycroft. Please don’t feel the need to dwell on what you think should or shouldn’t have happened. There’s no rush or pressure for anything. Dinner was more than enough for me. Have a good day. – BW

Mycroft was about to send a message back when John began ringing.

‘Dr Watson, how can I help you this morning?’ Mycroft tried to sound as normal as possible.

‘Hi, Mycroft. It’s Sherlock, I just picked him up from a smack den and I’m taking him to Barts for a drugs test. I just thought I’d let you know.’

Mycroft felt his body run cold. ‘I see.’

‘Yeah, I mean, it doesn’t look good, but I knew you’d want to be informed.’

‘Thank you, John. I’ll be in touch.’ Mycroft couldn’t explain his anger and disappointment, why had he not been keeping a closer eye on Sherlock? What could possibly have taken his attention so far away from his brother? Oh, yes…

I will be dropping by Baker Street soon. Sherlock again. – MH

He sent the message to Bethany, knowing she would be able to sense his anger, but he didn’t receive a reply, assuming she must have already started working. Mycroft had a very good feeling that Sherlock would have a stash hidden somewhere in his flat and this was perhaps a chance for him to do something a little childish in response.

Mycroft made the phone call to Sherlock’s little fan club and told them to meet him outside Sherlock’s flat. He eventually told them to get to work and look for anything substance related, he then had the very difficult task of phoning his parents.

He stepped outside for a moment, holding the bridge of his nose and preparing himself for the difficult phone call.

‘Mycroft?’ That voice was the only one that could make him feel any better about anything. He turned to see Bethany in her work uniform, well, in her black polo shirt and black trousers. ‘What are you doing here?’ Clearly, she hadn’t received his message.

‘Sherlock.’ He said, gravely. ‘He often suffers from substance abuse and John called me to say he’s using again.’

‘Jesus.’ Bethany folded her arms, trying to make sense of it. ‘I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do? It’s not busy or anything, if you need help?’

‘It’s quite alright, there are people searching his flat just now,’ Mycroft explained, liking the fact that she cared enough to offer to help him. ‘If there’s anything else he’s hiding, we’ll find it.’

‘Wait, who’s in his flat?’ Bethany asked, but didn’t wait for an answer, instead she bolted up the stairs and out of sight.

Mycroft sighed, the phone call would have to wait. He went inside, sat on the stairs and thought on all the ways he could have help Sherlock if only he’d been paying attention. He heard footsteps coming back down the stairs, unmistakably belonging to Bethany.

‘They haven’t found anything yet,’ she said, descending past him and leaning against the wall. ‘But they’re being weirdly thorough, so if there’s anything there, it’ll be found. Are you alright?’

‘Fine.’ Mycroft nodded, but it only awarded him a slight tilt of her head. ‘I wasn’t keeping an eye on him. I was distracted.’

‘Distracted?’ Bethany frowned, before realising what he meant.

‘If we continue and I find myself in this position again-‘

‘Mycroft, Sherlock is your brother,’ she half laughed. ‘You seriously think you have a right to feel bad for choosing to help him over me? If you didn’t choose him, I’d think you were insane.’ Mycroft didn’t anticipate that response from her and it made her chuckle. ‘Look, I’m nothing special, I’m just Mary’s friend and you shouldn’t even be giving me a second glance, let alone anything else. Family comes first, it should always come first.’

Mycroft took a breath and wondered whether he should have gone on. ‘Even at the expense of my own happiness?’

Bethany’s whole face changed, surprised maybe that he’d asked such a question, or perhaps that he’d even been so happy at all, he couldn’t tell. He never found out, because the sounds of a taxi pulling up and Sherlock and John could be heard shouting outside.

‘…he always corrects it, he’s OCD, doesn’t even know he’s doing it.’ Sherlock yelled as he walked through the door.

‘Well then Sherlock, back on the sauce?’ Mycroft felt an instant irritation at his interruption, he wanted Bethany to give him some kind of strength to have patience, but she remained quiet.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I phoned him.’ John cut in.

‘The siren call of old habits.’ Mycroft went on. ‘How very like Uncle Rudy, though in many ways, cross-dressing would’ve been a wiser path for you.’

‘You phoned him?’ Sherlock directed his question to John.

‘Course, I bloody phoned him.’

‘Course he bloody did!’ Mycroft had had enough, he was in no mood. ‘Now, save me a little time, where should we be looking?’

‘Why is she here then?’ Sherlock pointed to Bethany. His eyes darting between her and Mycroft.

‘I’m working this morning,’ she sighed. ‘Mycroft arrived and told me what happened. Why didn’t you phone anyone?’

‘Wait, did you say ‘we’?’ Sherlock’s attention thankfully turned back to Mycroft.

‘Mr Holmes.’ A voice called from upstairs.

‘For God’s sake!’ Sherlock yelled, pushing past Mycroft and striding up the stairs.

Mycroft slowly got up to follow, listening to John again question why Bethany was there.

‘Told you, Mycroft was outside,’ she explained again, she was a good liar, good enough for John, but thankfully not good enough for him. ‘He looked stressed, I joked about it and he told me what happened.’

John seemed somewhat convinced and Mycroft felt it was a bullet dodged… for now. He entered into the flat, maintaining his calmer demeanour, spotting the closed bedroom door immediately, but open to giving Sherlock every opportunity to own up.

‘Some members of your little fan club, to be polite.’ Mycroft glided in. John and Bethany following in afterwards, thankfully the latter stood closer to John so as not to arouse suspicion, though Sherlock was rarely fooled by such displays. ‘They’re entirely trustworthy. Even willing to search through the toxic waste dump you are pleased to call a flat. You’re a celebrity these days Sherlock, you can’t afford a drug habit.’

‘I do not have a drug habit.’ Sherlock said, like the moody teenager he often was.

‘Hey, what happened to my chair?’ John cut in. Mycroft looked to Bethany to give him a little more patience, but she was just watching Sherlock.

‘It was blocking my view to the kitchen.’

‘Well, it’s good to be missed.’

‘You were gone, I saw an opportunity.’

‘No, you saw the kitchen.’

‘What have you found so far? Clearly nothing.’ Mycroft turned his attention to the reason his morning had been disrupted. The bedroom door still sticking out like a sore thumb.

‘There’s nothing to find!’ Sherlock yelled and finally Mycroft had had enough.

‘Your bedroom door is shut,’ he began, walking slowly towards the door at the end of the corridor. ‘You haven’t been home all night. So, why would a man who has never knowingly closed the door without the direct orders of his mother bother to do so on this occasion?’

Mycroft’s hand was on the door handle when Sherlock jumped up. ‘Okay, stop! Just stop! Point made.’

‘Jesus, Sherlock.’ Bethany said, quietly. Mycroft turned on his heel, not quite being able to bear seeing what was actually beyond the door.

‘I’ll have to phone our parents of course, in Oklahoma,’ Mycroft arrived back in the living room and was somewhat aware that Bethany’s eyes were on him. ‘Won’t be the first time your substance abuse has wreaked havoc with their line dancing.’

Sherlock, having had enough as well, stood up to Mycroft. ‘This is not what you think, this is for a case.’

‘What case could possibly justify this?’ Mycroft wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t buying his excuses.

‘Magnusson.’ Sherlock shot back. Mycroft froze, suddenly realising what his little brother was really doing. ‘Charles Augustus Magnusson.’

Mycroft took a deep calming breath and turned around addressing the two fan club members in Sherlock’s kitchen.

‘That name you think you may have just heard,’ he started, calming and slowly so he was understood perfectly. ‘You were mistaken. If you ever mention hearing that name in this room, in this context, I guarantee you on behalf of the British Security Services that materials will be found on your computer hard drives resulting in your immediate incarceration. Don’t reply, just look frightened and scuttle.’ They did as they were told and almost ran out of the flat. Mycroft turned back to Sherlock and John, Bethany still standing to one side. ‘I hope I won’t have to threaten you as well.’ He purposely directed his words to John and not her.

‘Well, I think we’d both find that embarrassing.’ John said, making Sherlock giggle like a child.

‘If it’s all the same to you, Miss Wheeler,’ he couldn’t stand to look at her while he spoke. ‘I would ask that you return to work or at least make yourself scarce.’ It took her a moment, but eventually she sighed and left the flat. All three of them waited a moment before continuing.

‘Now that was interesting.’ Sherlock stood closer to Mycroft, trying to intimidate him. ‘You threatened everyone else, even considered doing the same to John, but not to a woman you barely know-‘

‘Sherlock.’ Mycroft wouldn’t let his drug addled mind get to him like this.

‘Unless of course, you know her better than you’re letting on-‘

‘Listen to me.’

‘What were you doing last night, Mycroft?’ Sherlock laid down the challenge, but Mycroft wasn’t going to rise to it, not now, not ever.

‘Magnusson is not your business.’ He warned, lowly.

‘Oh, you mean he’s yours?’

‘You may consider him under my protection.’

‘I consider you under his thumb.’

‘If you go against Magnusson, you will find yourself going against me.’

‘Okay, I’ll let you know if I notice.’ Sherlock wandered around him to the door, but it was doing nothing for Mycroft’s anger. ‘What was I going to say? Oh yes, bye-bye.’

Mycroft went to leave. ‘Unwise. Brother mine.’

Sherlock instantly pinned him to the doorframe and held his wrist in a very painful position. ‘Brother mine,’ Sherlock growled. ‘Do not appal me when I’m high.’

John had somehow cooled the situation and Mycroft was furious as he descended the stairs. Bethany was outside, cleaning one of the tables, but obviously waiting for him to tell her what was going on.

‘Mycroft, what’s going on?’ She demanded. ‘Is Sherlock alright? What happened to your arm?’

Mycroft took a breath and decided to make a decision that would most likely destroy every chance he had with her in the future, but if it protected her and Sherlock, then it was worth it. He stepped up to her slowly.

‘I’m sorry, but we can no longer associate with each other,’ he said, again without looking at her. ‘Last night was a mistake, I shouldn’t have been so careless. I apologise Miss Wheeler, but from now on, it would be wise for you to remain at a distance.’

Bethany looked heartbroken for a moment, like she was about to burst into tears, but suddenly she nodded and gave a very fake smile.

‘Right,’ she said. ‘Fine. Whatever you want, Mycroft. Whatever you think is best for you.’

She didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, instead she headed upstairs to see if Sherlock was okay. He couldn’t blame her for her actions, but he hoped that once the Magnusson business was over, she could find a little room for him again.

Mycroft went back to his office and thought long and hard about what he’d done and what he was going to do next.

‘Mycroft.’ That voice deflated him physically, making Anthea give him a strange look. He turned around in the corridor close to Lady Smallwood’s office and barely made any effort to hide his annoyance.

‘Yes, Lady Smallwood, what can I do for you?’ Mycroft drawled.

‘You’ve only just arrived.’

‘Very observant.’ He said, sarcastically.

‘Something important keeping you this morning.’ It wasn’t a question or a statement and Mycroft had half a mind to tear into her.

‘A private matter, yes.’ He was giving her as much warning as he could without acting irrationally.

‘A private matter? Interesting,’ Lady Smallwood nodded. ‘I noticed in your diary your dinner last night was noted as a business dinner. Care to explain?’

‘What are you talking about?’ Mycroft frowned, Anthea looked a little sheepish, but he’d told her to record it as such.

‘Miss Wheeler said she was a friend, and yet, you recorded your meeting with her as a business meeting and turn up several hours late for work, forgive one for thinking the worst.’ She gave a disingenuous chuckle and Mycroft was just about ready to snap.

He cleared his throat, keeping his voice low to help control his temper. ‘Miss Wheeler is a good friend of mine who specialises in Chemistry, she elected not to come to my office due to her busy work schedule and therefore a business dinner seemed a more appropriate setting. As for my late arrival, you’re aware of how erratic my brother’s behaviour can be, it doesn’t always coincide with the most convenient of time periods, but in this case, it was a good thing that I checked up on him as he expressed interest in Magnusson.’ He caught the unmistakable look of guilt tracing over Lady Smallwood’s expression. ‘I don’t suppose you know anything about that, do you?’

‘Why would I?’ She defended, rather poorly.

‘I wouldn’t ask if I thought you knew nothing.’ Mycroft warned. ‘Good morning, Lady Smallwood.’ He nodded as politely as he could before turning on his heel and striding towards his office.

Mycroft sat down behind his desk and held the bridge of his nose while Anthea went through everything he’d missed and what he had coming up that day. It would be a long one to say the least.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

#Mycroft Holmes #mycroft holmes x ofc #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft holmes fanfiction #bbc sherlock

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soniccrazygal · 1 year ago

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Is wow a new bad guy who could have guessed!! I'm really excited for this one I hope you like it

It took in a while to get away from all the people... When they had gotten back to the car where Charlie waited, Michael could tell she wasn't at full strength. She immediately Hug both of them "Oh my God I was so worried!! I'm sorry! I couldn't come to help I just can barely hold myself together right now! I'm so sorry-" "We're OK Charlie let's get in the car And find another hotel I don't think this place is gonna let us back in..." Elizabeth pointed at the hotel Michael hadn't seen it since he was running but the front entrance had Been destroyed he could also see that there was blood inside... It only took a minute for them all to get in the car Charlie drove and Michael sat with Elizabeth in the back seat as she told her story.. "When you got nabbed by that thing that looks like baby at 1st I wanted to Save you.. But then it stepped forward and its hands turned into a taser and-" Tears collected in Elizabeth's eyes "Hey Liz don't cry... it's OK... That's what I want you to do.. your safety comes 1st" Michael hugged her. the black goo was Gone now most of it had fallen off during their walk, She was still glowing slightly but Michael didn't mind. "foxy continued chasing me... he kept on tearing through cars on the way a-and people to-o it was terrible.. Then you jumped on top of me and bit me.." Elizabeth pointed to her bite mark. Her shirt was torn where it happened and It was Almost fully healed which should be impossible- "I don't know what came over me Michael I just felt something... And I just ripped off its head like it was nothing.." Elizabeth looked at Michael terrified.. "Then I-I Ripped into it right there in the middle of the road.. Couldn't stop it was like I wasn't in control.. When I finally snapped out of it I ran to where you were and ripped that thing stomach open and got you out..."

There was silence for a moment then Charlie spoke."I was right circus baby's remnant definitely affecting you... I've never seen this happen before but.." Elizabeth hugged Michael again moving as close to him as she could. "I don't think we need to talk about this Charlie... Let's just find another shady motel and stay there.. Get our bearings again" Elizabeth didn't say anything just Hugged on as tight as she could to Michael like if she didn't he would disappear...

(Somewhere else in London)

Bethany took a long ship of the "cocktail" Remnant and alcohol mixed together swimmingly.. She could already feel the rot along her body undoing itself as the remnant worked its magic.. "Honestly I liked you better when you were half decayed..." Jack the man across from her gave her a Disappointed look... Bethany gave Jack a foul look and had another large ship. Jack was from America so of course he was crass.. She didn't know too much about him other than; His full name was Jack Davis Kennedy, he what's the product of a Irish businessman father and a East Asian actress, Had inherited his father's company and his mother's good looks, And was an all around @#$#.... "I'm honestly disappointed in you Bethany you didn't just fail spectacularly you killed and somehow altered both of them.. And manage to kill yourself in the process!" Bethany rolled her eyes.. how she had miss the feeling of actually being able to feel.. only a week as a undead undead had been miserable and she hadn't even fully rotted away yet... "I mean Mr. Afton's not too happy about it! But on the other hand he never really cared for the boy much and from the news reports the girl seems to have turned out perfect.." Bethany just rolled her Hold her eyes turning her head to the tv Located on the opposite wall. Footage of the attack and the girl ripping the Fox to shreds had been caught through a shaky home video Cam and The traffic cameras so it wasn't the best footage but Anyone could recognize that bright red hair. "So what are you going to do that I can't..." Bethany said finally feeling comfortable enough to take off her gloves. the skin had regenerated perfectly it still had a slightly purple tent to it but at least it wasn't completely decayed. "I'm going to catch them, take them to the States and take them to their Dad!" Bethany rolled her eyes again again.. the shadows we're beginning to stretch as the sun was setting. (If you were judging just on that there would only be a woman on the roof..)

It didn't take long for them to find a new hotel room and for Michael to contact Damian changing the place where the package would arrive. Charlie had went out with him leaving Elizabeth alone in the room. Her veins hadn't stopped glowing but they had dimmed.. As she sat there boardly flipping through channels she could have sworn she saw the figure and a boy in the static.. (Cassidy and Evan are trying to talk to her)

There you go new villain a bit more mystery and all done I hope you like this and interested to see where you take it Signed your Person who keeps on doing this random Tumblr user!

Elizabeth was going to just turn off the tv when she noticed all the static, but then she heard a voice that she hadn’t heard in a long time attempting to talk to her. Slowly creeping loser to the tv, she asked, “Evan?”

#soniccrazygal answers #fnaf story crafting

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dragynfirearc · 2 years ago

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𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆

king of disappointment by echos

demons by jacob lee

despicable by grandson

hayloft ii by mother mother

when the party's over by billie eilish

𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆

i was born in an abundance of inherited sadness. - ryan adams

we all have sensed the pain that our mother's carry. all of us suspicious to some degree that we are partly to blame for her pain. therein lies the guilt. - bethany webster

i crave touch, yet i flinch everytime someone gets too close. - unknown

mother, eat me and give birth to me again. this time around i'll make you proud. - unknown

no one can hate me more than i hate myself. i am not what i am, i am what i do. this is terrible. this is true. the thing i swore i'd never do. - sarah kane

tagged by: @pulchramsolis tagging: @roseguided, @therogueprincedaemon, @bloodofthefates, + anyone who wants to do it!

#rp: dash games.#dash games: aegon targaryen.

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fr-martin-gospel-reflections · 2 years ago

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26th March - ‘I am the resurrection and the life’, Reflection on today’s gospel reading (Jn 1:1-45)

Fifth Sunday of Lent

One of the great gifts in life is friendship. We value friends who remain faithful to us in good times and in bad, when all is well with us and when life goes against us. Sometimes we become friends with a whole family, which is a very special blessing. The family might invite us to join them for important events in their lives. We rejoice with them when they celebrate. We also share in their sorrows. If some misfortune comes to the family, we are deeply touched by it.

Today’s gospel reading shows that Jesus was a friend of the family of Martha, Mary and Lazarus. Jesus needed friends, just like the rest of us, and this family of two sisters and a brother had come to befriend him. When he called to them, he knew he was among friends; he could relax in their company. The gospel readings says simply, ‘Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus’. This was the love of friendship. When the sisters sent word to Jesus about their seriously ill brother, they simply said, ‘Lord, the one you love is ill’. If we hear that a close friend is ill, we try to visit them straight away. Yet, when Jesus heard that Lazarus was ill, ‘he stayed where he was for two more days’ before finally saying to his disciples, ‘Let us go Judea’, to Bethany, the home of Martha, Mary and Lazarus. Jesus deliberately waited until Lazarus died before going to Bethany; he let Lazarus die. If he really loved Lazarus, why did he wait? We sense the sisters’ sense of disappointment, and even anger, in their words to Jesus when he finally arrived, ‘If you had been here, my brother would not have died’. It is as if they were saying, ‘Why weren’t you here when we needed you most?’ Martha and Mary were people of faith who struggled to understand why the Lord hadn’t come in time to heal their brother when they sent for him. As people of faith, we too can find ourselves wondering why the Lord doesn’t respond to our call for help with much greater urgency. Whey do our loved ones die when we have prayed so hard for them to get better? Why does the Lord let them die?

In reality, Jesus’ delay in coming to Mary and Martha was an expression of his love for them. It was because he loved them that he delayed. He wanted to show the sisters, and his disciples, that God’s life giving power at work through him could not only heal the sick but could also bring life to those who had died. Jesus went on to raise Lazarus from the dead and restore him to his sisters. Of course, Lazarus would die again someday, as would Martha and Mary. However, in raising Lazarus from the dead, Jesus was showing that he had power over death. His restoring Lazarus to physical life was a sign that he could bring all who believe in him to eternal life. That is why the real climax of this story is not so much Jesus restoring Lazarus to physical life but the words he speaks to Martha, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. If anyone believes in me, even though they die, they will live, and whoever lives and believes in me will never die’. These are words which are not just addressed to Martha but also to his disciples, including all of us who seek to be his disciples today. They are words that have given hope to grieving believers down through the centuries. Jesus is saying that the bond with him which our faith in him creates in this life will not be broken by death. Our communion with him, which is the fruit of our faith, will endure beyond death. Indeed, our communion with the Lord will be deepened beyond death as we come to share in his own risen life. There is a sense in which we already share in the Lord’s risen life here and now through our faith in him, and we will have a much fuller and richer sharing in his risen life beyond death.

Having made that wonderful promise to Martha, he asks, ‘Do you believe this?’ It is a question that is addressed to us all. He is asking, ‘Do you believe that my love for you will never end, that my friendship endures beyond death?’ The family of Martha, Mary and Lazarus represent us all. Jesus who befriended this family befriends us all. Later on in this gospel of John, in the setting of the Last Supper, Jesus will say to his disciples, who represent us all, ‘I do not call you servants any longer… I have called you friends’. We often speak of life-long friends. The Lord’s friendship lasts not just for our earthly lives but endures into eternal life. His greatest expression of friendship towards us was his death on the cross. As he said in that setting of the last supper, ‘No one has great love than this, to lay one’s life for one’s friends’. Through his death, and resurrection, Jesus continuously draws us to himself in love, thereby bringing us to share in his own risen life over which death has no power.

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joviewinchester · 4 years ago

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“You’re absolutely positive you can’t come with me?” Y/N asked Matt.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I work that day. Maybe you can ask Ty or Stefan or something.”

“Yep. Been there done that. Stefan has plans to hang out with Caroline and Tyler has another wedding to go to by some stupid twisted chance of fate. I hate June.”

“You can…well, I’m not even going to suggest that torture.” Matt said cutting himself off.

“What? Anything is better than the torture of my family trying to set me up with someone.”

“You could ask Damon, but then again, he’s literally the worst. I guess pick your poison. Damon Salvatore or wedding set up. Personally I’d go with the latter.”

Y/N patted Matt on the shoulder and sighed. “You don’t know my family.” She exited The Grill and reluctantly drove to the Salvatore Boarding House.

She knocked, and Damon immediately opened the door. “You know, I was wondering when the tension would catch up to you.” He smirked.

“That is not why I’m here, Damon. I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

Y/N sighed and took a deep breath before starting her rant. “I need a date to my relatives wedding, and i’ve already asked literally everyone else i know, so i know you probably hate me, but please say yes. Otherwise they’ll try to set me up with someone, and they have awful taste.”

“And what do I get out of agreeing to this?”

“Um…I don’t know? The wedding is literally tomorrow and I have no other option so…I have no clue. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, huh? I’ll let you know when I figure out what that is. What time does this wedding start tomorrow?”

“Wedding’s from 5:00 to 6:00 and the reception’s from 6:30 to 10:00, unfortunately, I have to help with setup, so I have to be there three hours early, it was almost five luckily I got out of that, but I’m not going to make you deal with that, so I’ll leave from there early, come pick you up around 4:30. Dress nice…but not too nice. You’re already going to outshine the groom. My cousin does not know how to pick em.”

“That was a very trivial way of you saying you think I’m attractive. I’ll be ready, and don’t think I’ll forget that you owe me.”

“I wasn’t saying that! And I didn’t think you would forget. Not even for a second. And one more thing, please don’t eat any of my relatives.”

“Oh I’m not that bad. Why would I eat one of them when I could eat you?” He said eying her from head to toe.

“Stop making everything sexual! I’ll see you tomorrow!” She exclaimed as she brushed her hair to cover her red face.

He watched her as she walked back to her car, because let’s be honest with ourselves, he loved to see her walk away, then he shut the door and poured himself a glass of bourbon.

“Did Y/N just ask you to her cousin’s wedding?” Stefan asked walking downstairs.

“Why yes she did, brother.”

“Then you’re welcome. I don’t actually have plans with Caroline tomorrow. I told her that so she’d ask you. Don’t screw it up.”

“Really Stefan? I could’ve gotten the girl on my own. I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about. Y/N is different. She likes you, but she doesn’t like you just because she wants to sleep with you. She likes you because she wants to be in a relationship with you. If you don’t want that, then don’t lead her on. Promise me you won’t lead her on.”

“Do you really think that low of me, Stef?” Damon asked placing his palm over his chest.

“I won’t hurt her. Believe it or not, I actually like her, and tomorrow I’m going to be a perfect angel around her family, and she’ll have no choice but to invite me to another family event. I will be the best fake boyfriend. Mark my words.”

The next day was absolute torture for Y/N to say the least. “Y/N, Mark and Angela have to be seated near the back. They have not earned the status of front and center. Move the cards.” Her cousin, Allison, was normally really sweet, but she was an extreme bridezilla.

Y/N rolled her eyes but did as she was told. She expected for Allison to follow her every order when her wedding came around.

“So, Auntie Bethany has invited a really cool guy to set you up with. His name is Reggie and he’s so much nicer than the last one.” Allison said taking a minute to rest, which did not bother Y/N one bit.

“First of all, I’m eighteen which is freshly out of high school, I don’t know why she thinks it’s so urgent for me to settle down. Second of all, mom is going to be real disappointed because I actually have a boyfriend now and I invited him. I mentioned him a few weeks ago to you.”

“Now that you say that, I remember you mentioning it.” Yeah, she didn’t say a word, but Allison bought it and that’s all that mattered. She’d been pushing her to get a date since the wedding was announced.

“Speaking of which, it’s 4:00 and I told him I’d be there to pick him up at 4:30. You don’t mind me leaving a bit early do you?”

“No. Of course not. Chloe, Lilly, and Amy will help me finish my makeup then I should be all ready! Can’t wait to meet this mysterious boyfriend of yours.”

Y/N waved at the other bridesmaids, who all glared back at her for leaving them alone, and got in her car to get Damon. She knocked.

“Just a minute!” She heard him call. He opened the door a couple minutes later.

She smiled brightly. “You look great.” She said.

“Yeah, and you look…gorgeous. Your cousin was very generous with the bridesmaids dresses.” Damon commented.

https://shoplook.io/outfit-preview/2847398

“Come on. If we’re late I will not hear the end of it.”

Once they arrived, there were literally like five minutes till the start of the wedding. “Shit.” She muttered. “Just sit down and avoid eye contact at all costs. I really wish she hadn’t made me a bridesmaid.” Y/N muttered the last part and got to her place.

The ceremony lasted forever. The only thing that made it tolerable was watching Damon mess with the dude sitting next to him.

“Oh my god. That was literally the longest wedding ever. Why the hell did she force us to wear heels?”

“On the bright side, you were definitely the hottest bridesmaid up there.”

She elbowed his side playfully. “Oh shut up. Now come on, we need to get going. If we’re late to the reception, my mom will kill me. I haven’t even got to talk to her yet.” Y/N to practically dragged Damon to the car.

Of course the reception was about as cliche as the ceremony. It was held in a big old barn decorated with fairy lights.

“There’s my mom. Come on, act coupley or whatever, and be on your best behavior would you?”

“Oh, Y/N I’m hurt. When am I not?” He wrapped an arm around her waist.

Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling slightly at his antics.

“Hey, mom.”

Her mother looked kind of upset. “Come on, Y/N. You should’ve told me you were bringing a date. Reggie is going to be disappointed.” Her mother motioned backwards towards a guy who was already making out with another bridesmaid.

“Yeah…that him? He doesn’t seem too upset. I wouldn’t worry about it. Mom, this is Damon, my boyfriend.”

They shook hands. “Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N. It’s great to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much, and can I just say, you look lovely this evening. Speaking of which, where’s the lucky man?”

“Oh, he’s just over there talking to the groom. I’m glad that Y/N has finally gotten a boyfriend. I was starting to think she was going to be single forever.”

“Mom, cool it, will you? I’m eighteen years old. I just enrolled in college. I’m not getting married anytime soon. I know that’s how people in our family usually do it, but I don’t want to be married and have three kids running around by the time I’m twenty five. Okay?”

“You may feel that way now, dear, but wait until the baby fever catches up to you.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“I need a drink.” She mumbled with hostility.

“Y/N Y/M/N! You are not drinking any alcohol!” Her mother scolded after her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble. You just have fun. Raising a girl with that attitude must have kept you away from fun quite a bit.” Bethany laughed.

“You have no idea.”

Damon followed Y/N to the open bar, and found her with a wine glass filled to the very top.

“Dude, first of all you aren’t even of age, and second of all, do you really want to get drunk at a relative’s wedding? Answer, no. No you don’t.”

“You don’t know what I want, Damon. Just go charm off the pants of another middle aged woman.”

“I’m trying to be a perfect fake boyfriend so your mom will get off your back. Did you already drink one of these?” He asked taking the glass from her hands and swirling it around.

“Yeah, duh. Did you meet my mom? She makes it her mission to control every aspect of her life. I love her, but some alchohol would really help me love her even more. Here gimme that.” She said grabbing the glass from his hand. She downed the whole thing in one go as if it was just a shot glass.

“Y/F/N! No! You are banned from this bar for the rest of the night. Come on.” He hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Damon...what are you doing? You’re supposed to be the least responsible one in this fake relationship.” She whined.

“No. I’m supposed to be like a real boyfriend which means I have to keep you out of trouble and do everything I can to make your parents like me which is what I’m doing.”

“Come on. Just let me walk. I won’t do anything stupid. I promise.”

“No.” Y/N huffed.

“Fine. If you want some douchebags looking up my dress then whatever.”

“Fine! Okay fine. I’ll put you down, but only because I’m your douchebag, and I don’t want anyone thinking otherwise.”

They ran back into Y/N’s parents.

“Did you get her away from the bar before she went psycho?” Mrs. Y/L/N asked.

“No. I took away the wine glass and she took it back and chugged it.” Damon said glaring at her.

“I’m fine. See?” She walked in a straight line.

“Oh come on Bethany. Lighten up. If you think she isn’t too young to get married then don’t you think in that mindset that she isn’t too young to drink alcohol.” Her father, Chris, said.

Y/N snapped and pointed at her dad. “Yeah. He’s totally right? Ready to admit that eighteen is too young for someone to get married?”

“Fine. It’s too young. Now no more drinks for the rest of the night, missy.”

She smiled triumphantly, but then she started sulking again. “Rest of the night? As in I have to stay here for the rest of the night and not drink anything?”

“Fine. You can leave like an hour early, but come talk to me before you leave. Have fun, but not too much fun.”

Y/N smirked. “I thought you wanted grandkids?” Her dad choked on his drink.

“Y/N!”

“Kidding. I’m obviously kidding…mostly. Bye!”

“You’re a lot of fun when you’re not avoiding being killed by some type of villain. I like you when you’re not in serious mode.”

“I’m so so sorry that I don’t have any witchy woo or an immortal life, but you do have to admit, I am amazing with a crossbow.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sure you are. Even though you’ve almost hit me multiple times.”

“Exactly. I’m amazing with a crossbow. By the way, Allison wanted to meet you. We should get that over with.”

“Okay. That was uncalled for. You can’t just change the subject after admitting to trying to murder me multiple times.”

“You would have healed. What do you want me to do? Fall at your feet like Elena?” Y/N asked clearly passive aggressive.

“Woah. Woah. Woah. Stop walking for a second. Are you jealous of Elena?”

“What?! No. Why would I be? I don’t…I don’t even like you!”

“This wedding has proved that statement otherwise. Come on. Admit it. You. Are. Jealous. You want to get with all of this! You want to go for a ride on the Salvatore train!”

“No! No! No! I don’t! I don’t like you! I don’t want you! You... you infuriate me to no end!”

“But you like that don’t you? You like it when I get you all flustered. And don’t think I didn’t catch you blushing earlier when I called myself yours, given I said I was your douchebag, but you still blushed. Not to mention the fact that you put my hand back on your waist when we were walking back from the bar. You like me.”

“No I don’t! Everything that happened here was for show! It was for show.” She defended.

“The only reason you didn’t want to invite me to this wedding is because you knew that I would get your heart racing. Yeah. I can hear that.”

Y/N ran her hands over her face in frustration. “Oh. Don’t mess up your makeup. I can do that for you later.” Damon smirked. So what? His plan to be perfect didn’t last very long, but this plan seemed to be working just fine.

“Stop. Stop saying stuff like that.” She whisper shouted.

Damon leaned in. His mouth was only inches away from her ear. “Why? Does it…frustrate you?”

Y/N gave him a glare and crossed her arms, huffing. Damon smirked. She grabbed his wrist and took him outside.

Damon still had a smug look on his face. “You wanna know how you really make me feel? Yes, Damon! Yes you fucking frustrate me! You make me question my existence on a daily basis and sometimes I even wonder why me?! Why does he like me?! I’m no Elena. I’m not the perfect annoying ass girl next door, and I still don’t know the answer, but you know what?! Since you’re deciding to push me and push me until I explode, I love you, Damon Salvatore! I fucking love you!”

After seconds of tension filled silence and staring at each other, Damon smashed his lips against hers. She immediately kissed him back. She felt his hands gradually slide further down her back, until they were groping her ass. She pushed him away out of spite. “No.” She stated crossing her arms defiantly.

“Really? You’re going to be like this? Now?”

“Yes. Yes I am. Say it back and maybe I’ll be more lenient.” She sassed.

“I thought it was a given. I’ve literally been flirting with you and pining after you for months, Y/N. Of course I love you.”

“Was that so hard?” She joked. She leaned in to kiss him again, this time resting his hands on her butt. He squeezed her ass making her gasp, and slipped his tongue in her mouth.

“Woah. Woah. Woah. This isn’t your honeymoon Y/N.” Allison had walked out of her own reception looking for her.

“Oh, shit. Sorry Alli. So what’s up?” Y/N asked slightly out of breath.

“Well, I was promised that I could meet your mystery man, but you were nowhere to be found. I decided to look for you myself. Aunt Bethany was complaining about your grandkids joke earlier. I didn’t think you were serious.” She joked.

“So, this is Damon. Damon this is my cousin, Allison.”

“Nice to finally meet you. By the way Y/N, I connected the dots, and I realized after getting out of the point where I was completely freaking out, sorry about that by the way, that this is the same Damon that you literally used to call me just to complain about on the daily.”

“Hey, now. Let’s not bring that up, especially the things that I said…” Allison cut her off.

“She used to call me and talk about how annoying you were. I believe one time she called you a flaming douche nozzle? That sounds about right. Every single call always ended with her saying he is so infuriatingly attractive. It’s not even fair.” She knew she was embarrassing her cousin, and to be honest she loved it.

“Hey! He doesn’t need an ego boost! Trust me. I would know.”

“Okay. Okay. All jokes aside, if you are leaving, your mom and dad wanted to talk to you. Oh, and I won’t tell them about this little encounter. I know how they can be.” Allison winked and walked back in the building.

“Was it just me, or did we just get permission from the bride to leave? Come on we have got to hurry up and talk to my parents so we can get out of here.”

“What’s got you in such a rush to leave?” Damon winked.

“None of that. Stop. No. No. Bad.” She said pointing her finger at him.

“Relax. I won’t be myself, but only for you.” They walked back into the reception making a bee line to her parents.

“Hey mom, we’re about to head out.”

“Y/N, your lipstick is a little smudged.” Her mom said. Damon had to look away to stop himself from laughing.

“Huh. Is it? Must’ve been from where I got a drink. Anywho I love you guys and we will see you later.”

“Wait a second. Damon would you like to come over for dinner this Friday?”

“Of course. I’d love to Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Great. We cannot wait to see you again. Alright. I won’t keep you. Have a nice night.” They both waved goodbye to her parents and headed back to the Salvatore house. They walked in, and Damon poured a couple of glasses of bourbon.

“I have been accepted by your family. I’d say this calls for celebration.”

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to drink, dad.”

“Oh shut up. You can do whatever the hell you want when your parents aren’t there to witness it.” Y/N rolled her eyes, and flopped on the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep no matter what you say.”

“Come on then.”

“Where?”

“If you’re going to sleep then you’re coming with me to a comfy bed, not the couch.” Instead of waiting for her to reapond or get up, he slug her over his shoulder and took her upstairs.

“Goodnight, Damon.” She said sleepily.

“Goodnight, sleeping beauty.”

#damon salvatore #the vampire diaries #matt donovan #the vampire diares imagine #tvd imagine #tvd #damon salvatore imagine #damon salvatore x reader

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filmflowersbangtan · 4 years ago

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Dead of Night (preview)

pairing: gang member!jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: swearing | drug mention | gangs | in the full story, there will be violence, blood, fighting, threatening

preview word count: 4k

you meet jungkook in a diner in the early morning where it’s just the two of you in the entire place. An interesting relationship ensues, and you find out he’s not who you thought he was. He’s a prominent member of the city’s most powerful gang, surrounded by danger and trouble. But you still want him.

author’s note: I sincerely apologize for being gone for so long and for not updating any of my fics. To everyone waiting on IMSWY pt. ii: I am so sorry for taking so long with it. It’s still in my WIPs, and I haven’t given up on it yet, but it is on the back burner right now since I have many other ideas bubbling up that I absolutely have to write or else they will probably internally set me aflame (lol).

I will be deleting many of my fics soon. I will be keeping “Unbound,” “I Must Still Want You,” “Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold,” and “Lonely Planets.” Everything else I will be deleting because I have no desire to finish working on them or I simply do not like them anymore and can’t see them going anywhere.

I also will probably not be writing anymore series. Everything will most likely be one shot because every time I start a series, I get too overwhelmed with the idea of updating parts and finishing them that I just end up postponing them for too long and leaving too many people who have been looking forward to them disappointed. I do want to say that I have been going through So Much since I last posted Lonely Planets pt. ii and IMSWY, but I am in a so so so much better place now. That’s why I’m even writing this story now.

This will be a oneshot. It will not be a series. It will be very long. I am almost finished with it, but I am posting this preview just to see if you all would like to continue reading it.

Thank you all. I appreciate all the feedback and the follows and the reblogs so, so much. The feedback and the reblogs of Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold is what really motivated me to write this one. I hope you all enjoy it. 😊

Being alone was like an addiction. It was fulfilling and appealing and…well, lonely.

Two in the morning diner stops during the weekdays had become routine. The place was completely empty save for a waitress and a cook and maybe a tired trucker. You tucked yourself in a booth in the back. The vinyl seats were cracked and uncomfortable, the lighting was stark and washed everything raw. But it was comforting. Sleep was evasive and your apartment was barely unpacked, boxes stacked haphazardly in the dining area and the mattress on the living room floor. It was your idea to move to this vast city far away from home. This city swallowed everything in its incessant noise. Nocturnal and teeming with cars and neon lights. It never rested and the two of you had that in common. You took solace in that.

The air was thick with bacon grease and bitter black coffee. Every morning you had waffles and orange juice. The refills were free and the waffles were the exact same circumference as the plate underneath it. Time was stagnant here. The city pressed against the plate glass windows, but the reflections from inside barred its entry. If you looked out, you simply stared directly at yourself. Maybe there was some kind of metaphor in that.

The night shift waitress, Bethany, set your plate of steaming waffles on the table as well as a glass syrup dispenser. She knew you by name and you thanked her for the food. She smiled sweetly and left you be.

The door chimed, denoting the entry of another patron. You didn’t look up. Bethany greeted the person in her cheerful customer service voice. You knew she didn’t actually sound like that. Once, you glimpsed her smoking a cigarette by the dumpster at the back of the diner arguing with her boyfriend on her cell phone. She had a tired voice. You wondered if she was lonely, too.

As you ate, Bethany took the patron’s order. From where you sat, his voice was a mumble. “You got it!” Bethany said before breezing away.

You glanced up from your food at the patron. Hair dyed blond, dark brown at the roots. He had a gentle face and a mouth made for smiling or furtively suppressing them. Tattoos were stippled on his arm all the way down to his knuckles. He was staring down at his phone, his fingers were slender and embellished with many silver rings. He was impossibly handsome. A paragon of beauty.

And he looked up. Right at you. Why was it at that moment you happened to notice him, he decided to notice you, too?

Your scalp prickled with hot embarrassment. You immediately averted your eyes back to your waffles. There was only a bite remaining. Good. You could finish, get your check, pay, and leave.

Boldly, you chanced another glimpse. He did, too. This time, a smile, broad and lovely, stretched across his face. It was endearing and intimate and you had never felt so seen. It was exhilarating. A small smile crept onto your mouth. You couldn’t help it. His smile was contagious.

This was how the following hour went. Weighted glances and secret smiles from across the room. He received his food, and he picked up his plate and mug of coffee and…was he coming this way?

You watched him, eyes wide, as he sauntered over to your booth and set his items on your table. “May I sit?” he said. His voice was the perfect match to his face. Smooth, sonorous, soft. Crushed velvet.

Jerkily, like you had never done it before, you nodded. He sat. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” you replied.

“I’m Jungkook.”

You told him your name. He repeated it once, twice, thrice. Like he enjoyed the feel of it in his mouth, rolling it around like a piece of hard candy he didn’t want to dissolve on his tongue just yet. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reached his hand over the table. You smiled and shook it.

His plate was piled with pancakes and sausages and scrambled eggs. He dug in. In between bites, he asked, “So what brings you here at this time of night?” “I have trouble sleeping. And you?” Your chest was tight with the awkwardness of it all, but he appeared to be perfectly at ease.

“I’m just a night owl. Or I’m a vampire.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he continued eating.

Surprisingly, laughter bubbled from you until you couldn’t help the giggles that shook you. How long had it been since you had a conversation with anyone? Your store had been a drought for the past month, only a couple of people coming in a day. You didn’t call home because your parents would ask how you’ve been, and that topic lit a fire in your skull. Bethany was just a waitress doing her job. And Nora was always busy. It was refreshing to have someone sit with you. Talk with you. Want to be near you.

His eyes danced at the sound of your laughter. It was an innocuous expression, boyish in how pure it was.

You covered your mouth with your hands to mask the laughter. And he gently grabbed your wrist and removed them. “I like your laugh.”

Butterflies unfurled their wings in your stomach and fluttered in a frantic cluster. He resumed his meal as if nothing happened. “So what do you do?”

You cleared your throat. “I own a used book and record store downtown. It’s small and kind of hidden from the street, but it’s there.” You chuckled nervously. You were proud of that store, but you might have to close it down soon and return to your hometown with your tail tucked in between your legs if the revenue continued as it did.

His eyebrows shot up. “Wow. That’s super cool. I like records. Books, not so much. Where is it located?”

You told him the address. “By that bodega on the corner.”

“The one that sells the really good blue raspberry shaved ice?”

You snapped your fingers. “That’s the one.”

“I’ll definitely have to stop by.”

This was how the next few hours went. Talking about everything and nothing. He had lived in the city his entire life, worked as a freelance artist, had an apartment not too far away. Plates had been swept away by Bethany long ago. Refills poured, drained, and poured again.

And then, “Do you maybe want to get out of here? Kick it at my place?” Jungkook asked. His expression was open and genuine.

You didn’t know if that was a good idea. But talking to him was stimulating and you didn’t want it to end.

He noticed your hesitation. “Turn you location on your phone, I’ll even give you my address so you can send it to your friends. Anything to make you feel comfortable.”

He was right. He didn’t live that far. It was barely past five o’ clock in the morning, the city was still awake, billboards alight. The buildings towered, dark against the predawn blue of the sky. The apartment building was modest and typical of the city. Clean and affordable but just expensive enough to be appealing to a specific demographic of college students and those with decent enough jobs. His apartment was on the third floor and was charming with brick walls and high ceilings. There was a bookshelf packed with vinyl records, even more in milk crates. A record player in pristine condition sat on an end table beside an armchair.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Jungkook said, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the front door.

“You said you liked records,” you replied, browsing his collection.

“I did.”

“This isn’t liking records. This is a goddamn treasure trove.” You pushed your hair behind your ear, eager to move it from your face. “Bowie, Billie Holiday, Bob Dylan, Prince. You even have a rare version of Hendrix’s Electric Ladyland. With the naked women! This is incredible.”

He laughed. “I see you are a woman of taste.”

“If only my dad could see this. I’m afraid to touch anything.”

“I’m sure you don’t have clumsy hands with records. Since you have a record store and all.”

You laughed. “I appreciate the trust.”

“So what would you like to listen to?”

You mulled it over, taking your time examining the sleeves of the records. Then you found one.

He smiled when you showed him the cover art. “Perfect.”

Frank Ocean’s Blond. A modern classic. Perfect for the liminal hour of five AM.

Jungkook slipped it from its sleeve, fingers on the slim rounded edges of the record. He carefully settled it on the turntable, placed the needle on the disc, and played the album. There was the classic crackle of vinyl, and then the first track emanated. It was a phantasm of sound, rich and ethereal. Light but weighted. The song was the deep blue of the sky before the sun decided to pull itself above the horizon and emblazon the sky with its myriad of colors. It was the perfect song for this liquid moment that felt like a dream. This beautiful stranger standing before you with his incredible collection.

And then you were in Jungkook’s arms, slowly swaying to the music. You smiled up at him and him down at you.

The album continued on in the living room, serenading to no one. You and Jungkook had moved to the bedroom, lounging on the bed. The horizon blushed peach, casting the room in half-light. You both lay on your backs, him with an arm slung casually behind his head, you with your hands folded delicately on your stomach.

“Thank you for paying for my meal today,” you said to him meekly.

He smiled. “Thank you for the great conversation. And having an amazing taste in music.”

You laughed. “What made you come sit with me anyway?”

That was when he looked at you, his mouth still slung in a smile, but his eyes sincere. “Because you’re beautiful.”

Your cheeks went hot and you giggled nervously, covering it with your hands. He rolled over and carefully removed them, his eyes on yours. For a brief moment, time was still. Your breath caught in your throat. He was so close. His lips were so close. Your noses were just barely brushing. His voice was husky when he said, “I like your laugh.”

And then he kissed you.

In the living room, Frank Ocean sang about nights and new beginnings.

In the bedroom, you and Jungkook were breathless. Hands on thighs. Hands in hair. Teeth on collarbones. It was a innocent hunger, one that never got too peckish. He was careful with you, didn’t dare to remove your clothes. “I like you,” he breathed into your neck. You gasped at the sensation.

You kissed until you both eventually succumbed to sleep, the morning sun pouring drowsy golden light across the room.

It was well into the afternoon when you woke to the sound of a shower running. The room was unfamiliar. Definitely not your barren apartment with the boxes strewn about the place. And you definitely weren’t on your living room mattress tangled amongst its waves of sheets. The bed you were in was the most comfortable you’ve ever experienced. Brick walls, plants, beautiful abstract canvas paintings leaning against the wall. Then you remembered.

The diner. The vinyl collection. The sunrise. The kiss.

Jungkook.

He was in the shower and you were fully dressed and the night had to have been a dream. But it wasn’t. Reality settled back onto your shoulders in agonizing waves. You were hours late opening the store. But oh, you wanted to burrow into these soft, sweet-smelling sheets and dissolve into nothing. Eventually you got up.

The door to the bathroom was open. You thought about telling him you were leaving, but instead, you drew your name and number into the mirror steam and went home to shower and change yourself.

An entire week went by and he never called. He didn’t return to the diner, either. It hurt. Every time you lay on your side, willing yourself to sleep, the phantom feeling of his hands and lips barreled you at such an unwelcome rush you would gasp. None of it was real. You had to keep telling yourself that. None of it was real.

Life went back to normal. Jungkook was a fleeting daydream that sifted in and out of your thoughts. The store still barely got any customers, except for the same two or three crate diggers who visited like ghosts. And then Nora, your best friend, breezed through the door. She was a city girl through and through. Large sunglasses, the omnipresent iced coffee, the expensive wardrobe curated specifically for being in front of a camera. She was partly why you moved here. The two of you were from the same hometown, and she had escaped first to chase the tail of a fashion designer career.

“Move here!” she had said during a phone call. “You’ll love it. You’re super hipster and this city eats that shit up! And you can open up that record and book store you always dreamed of.”

She wasn’t wrong. You loved this city but this city seemed to not love you back. Now, she pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and set her iced coffee on the counter top before you. You were sitting behind the register, feet up and reading a book when she had come in. You looked up from the paperback in your hands. “And what have I done to deserve your presence, Your Highness?”

“Good morning, dork! We’re going to a party.”

You kicked your feet down. Slipped a bookmark in the book and closed it. And you simply said, “No.”

She blinked, her smile stiff. “Why not?”

“You know I have to open this place every single morning. I can’t go to a party and get drunk and miss another opening.”

“Stop making this store your entire life.”

“It is my entire life.”

“Well, live another one. Just for one night.” She clasped her hands together and actually pouted. “Please.”

You sighed. “You don’t have anyone else to go with?”

She perked up and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, I do. I just want you to go with me. I want you to have fun for once. All you’ve done since you been here was work.”

Every single dollar and penny from your savings went to this store. It was your lifelong dream. And Nora—lovely, naïve Nora—had never needed to work for anything a day in her life. She meant well. She was never intentionally ignorant. But that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

She also didn’t know of your time with Jungkook. It was embarrassing that he never called. It angered you that he called you beautiful and said he liked you only for it all to be false. Thank goodness you didn’t have sex with him.

“I’ll have fun once I’m a millionaire or something,” you said to Nora.

She huffed. “I can find you someone to cover the shop for the night. You won’t even have to pay them. Please just come with me.”

“No. What if they steal something.”

She stared at you flatly. “Do you really think any of my friends—my friends—would steal? Let alone steal any of this stuff? No offense.”

“Why do you want me to go so badly?”

“I already said. Fun. You know, music, drinks, guys.” She sang the last word and accompanied it with a little shimmy.

“I have plenty of music and I can buy my own drinks.”

She slammed her hand against the counter top, startling you. “Stop being fucking difficult and come have some fun with me.”

So, grudgingly, you went. Albeit late because you didn’t trust anyone else to close the shop for you, but you went nonetheless. Nora did your makeup. Just glitter eyeshadow and a little eyeliner because you insisted you didn’t want much. And she picked out your outfit—a black lace bra, a crop top cardigan, and a pair of white shorts.

“Because I can’t dress myself?” you grumbled, sliding on the clothes.

“Exactly that. You dress too…hipster-y. You need to be hot for tonight.”

You hadn’t worn that bra since you dated Namjoon. He was pretentious and arrogant and such a city boy it made you lightheaded. You met when he waltzed into the store shortly after you moved here. He smiled at you and you practically melted. The books were what he came for. He bought a Russian classic novel and at checkout, he discussed with you the allegory of sharing fruit in literature. He was eloquent and intelligent and so damn gorgeous you fell for him in that same moment. He scribbled his number on the receipt and told you to keep it.

The relationship lasted for four months. He suggested you move into his high rise apartment downtown with him. It was a modern edifice, all glass and steel and money. He was the wealthiest person you had ever met in your life. And, stupidly, you were in love.

And then you saw his text messages with some unfairly beautiful girl he followed on social media about how good she looked in his bed . He said he was lonely, that you worked too much, what else was he supposed to do? Needless to say, you left him. And you hadn’t seen him since.

Now, Nora said to you, “And don’t think about wearing those fucking platform boots.”

“Why not?” you said, frowning. “They’re cute.”

“They look ridiculous. Like those boots that one goth girl from that cartoon you like wore.”

You grinned, mischievous. “That’s exactly why I bought them.”

To Nora’s dismay, you wore the fucking platform boots.

The party was in an underground venue. It wasn’t all red wine and an elaborate excuse to brag about money, like the gatherings Namjoon liked, it was edgy. A live band played pop punk on a stage, the lights in the place were dim save for the spotlights and the white Christmas lights behind the bar. Greasy pizza and liquor and neon lights. You brushed elbows with someone smoking a joint, and you were pretty sure someone was doing coke in the bathroom.

Nora pulled you to the bar where she ordered herself a cocktail and you a craft beer. She knew you so well.

There were so many people here. You mentally kicked yourself for not bringing flyers for your store.

And then you saw him. Nora was talking your ear off about how hot the frontman for the band was and you almost choked on your beer.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you spat.

Nora blinked rapidly. “What? What happened?”

“This is why you brought me here. You cunt.” You didn’t mean to call her that. It wasn’t a word worn with frequent use in your vocabulary. In fact, you hated the word. But it was deserved in this situation.

Namjoon. He was standing near the stage with a craft beer of his own in his hand, bobbing his head to the music. He didn’t like places like this. They were tacky to him. He didn’t even listen to this genre of music. What the hell was he doing here?

The girl standing next to him turned to him and smiled. She was wearing lipstick as red as murder and her bob was so black it reflected the lights with an envious luster. She had a septum piercing, the two silver balls glittering in the low light like two tiny stars. That’s when it clicked. He was here because of her. She was that unfairly beautiful girl in his text messages. Your skin felt incandescent.

“He had to see how hot you are. I thought you would enjoy shoving that in his face.” Lovely, naïve Nora. You wanted to slap her.

You stood from the bar stool and set your craft beer on the bar. “I’m leaving now.”

Her face was slack with regret. Before she could form an apology, you turned and walked away.

You were a few moments from the door when you heard your name. It wasn’t Nora. You stopped and your breath hitched. Your turned slowly, preparing to see Namjoon with that girl by his side but instead—

“Jungkook?”

His hair was black now and almost as shiny as that girl’s bob. It hung past his ears in gentle waves. He stood there in a baggy black shirt and jeans, his thumbs tucked into the front pockets. Silver bracelets draped from both wrists. In this lighting, he looked ethereal. Infernal. This couldn’t be the same man you shared a chimerical morning with. He looked like he had been created by the darkness of the city’s nights.

Maybe it was just the hair.

“Hi,” he said in the same way he did when he sat your table at the diner. It could’ve been mistaken as sheepishness, but his eyes were not meek. Besides the hair, you couldn’t figure out what was so different about him.

Breathlessly, you said, “Hi.”

“You look nice.”

Over his shoulder, you noticed Namjoon go to the bar. Nora scowled at him. He smiled amicably at her and his mouth moved, saying something. She froze, and her eyes immediately darted to you. Namjoon turned and saw you. And he started your way.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked.

You should’ve ran out of the venue. There were a million other things you should’ve done, but instead you grabbed Jungkook and kissed him.

Initially, he went rigid with shock, but he melted into the kiss. You felt him smile against your mouth. “Miss me that much?”

You pulled away. “I did not.” A glance over his shoulder and Namjoon was gone. You audibly exhaled.

“What happened?”

You ran a hand over your face. “Ex.”

“Ah,” he said. “Is that why you were leaving?”

“Yes. And now I’m going. Goodbye.” You whirled around, shoulders tense with embarrassment and headed for the stairs.

“Wait.” He caught up to you on the stairs. “Can I go with?” There were small white string lights strung in the stairwell and the glow reflected in his eyes. They were so brown.

“Don’t you have friends to be with?” Your phone buzzed in your back pocket with an incoming text message. Most likely your own friend dying to know who the guy you just kissed was. You ignored it.

“They’ll be fine.” He grinned.

“Okay,” you said, feeling yourself smile as well.

There was no destination, but you ended up at a park, sitting beside each other on a swing set. Your feet dragged in the wood chips as you pushed yourself back and forth slowly. He looked up at the night sky and sighed. “Do you want to know why I hadn’t called?”

You just looked at him.

“This may sound like a corny excuse, but… I was afraid of what you would think of me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated before saying, “If we continued seeing each other, you would eventually find out that I’m not a freelance artist. I do paint, but that’s not what I do.”

You could feel your heartbeat gradually speeding its pace. “What do you do?” His eyes fell down to his hands. He turned them over, studying the lines in his palms. His hair slipped over his eyes. He was a portrait of affliction. “I’m a Lost Boy.”

You didn’t understand. He noticed your silence and looked up at you. “The Lost Boys. This city is practically run by them.” He corrected himself, “Ran by us.” He stopped, closed his eyes, and sighed. “I’m in a gang.”

Your voice was a whisper. “What?”

He quickly added, “If you no longer want to associate with me, I understand. They’re—we’re—dangerous. I mean, even if you haven’t heard of us, you know us. The leather jackets, the vandalism, the fights. That venue is owned by us. The drugs at that event were supplied by us. That band playing is in our pockets. My apartment is paid by dirty money.” He laughed quietly to himself then, almost pityingly.

The night air around you was thick with your own dread. “Is being around you dangerous?” You hadn’t meant for your voice to sound so small.

“I won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re asking.” You could hear the unsaid “but” in his tone.

“But what?” you prompted.

He chewed on his lip. A dimple in his left cheek appeared. “I won’t hurt you, but I can’t promise your safety. If you do decide to be around me.”

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #kpop #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #bts jeon jungkook

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sarcastically-defensive17 · 4 years ago

Text

Forget me? Forget us. - B. Hargrove

Inspired by ‘Forget me too’ by MGK and Halsey. I love this song and it has been stuck in my head all day and I couldn’t think of anything but a toxic relationship with billy. This isn’t a happy story, but it is a sad reality of some relationships. Some people are so bad for each other yet their love is too intense. “I love you so much that I hate you” describes this perfectly.

Gif is not mine, nor are the lyrics used within the song or Billy Hargrove. Hope you enjoy!

Let me know if you want to join the Billy taglist, or my general tag list!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

TW: This story contains an intense description of a very toxic relationship. In no way do I condone this kind of relationship and I recommend seeking help if you are in a relationship like this and you fear for your safety or that of another.

Billy was dangerous. So was Y/N. She was cold, he was burning hot. They were powerful separate, a raging storm together.

They were made to love one another, but not made to be in love with one another. They were furious, passionate, loving, angry, fearful, high on possibility.

They were inseparable, but couldn’t bare to be with one another.

They were purely paradoxical, and they loved every heart aching second of it.

They had broken up once again, their love blowing up in a fury of broken objects and obscenities. One of their distant friends from high school decided to throw a party, despite her status as post-high school adults. Billy was in attendance, obviously.

Y/N had yet to show up. Her absence elated him, and disappointed him. He loved her. He loved her so much that he couldn’t stand to be around her, for he was too scared to lose it.

Their love was temporary, yet the temporary was permanent.

They were always going to fall apart. They were always going to become one again. They would fall apart soon after. It was a viscous cycle of heartbreak and hopeless love.

He waited for her, drink in hand, clad in tight jeans and a white tank top. His staple denim jacket was missing.

Another woman - Bethany, Billy thought her name was - stood awfully close to him, her bony hand resting on his arm as she spoke. He had no idea what she was saying, he had zoned out almost as soon as she approached him. He had little care to listen to her prattle on. His mind was waiting for one person.

Bethany kept chattering and Billy fought the urge to roll his eyes. He was showing zero interest, yet the woman would not shut up.

Well, she hadn’t, until a hand grabbed her hair and yanked her entire body backwards, until she fell flat on her behind.

Y/N stood behind her, Billy’s jacket draped over her shoulders and a look of pure fury in her eyes.

I saw you walk in the room and I tried my best Not to panic while I'm lookin' for the back door,

I smelled the perfume and it's obvious, i'm gonna stay and put my key in the bag more.

She wasn’t directing it towards Bethany, no. She was locked and loaded right on Billy.

Flight or fight kicked in, and Billy panicked, but only for a minute.

She looked divine. Wearing his jacket, marks on her neck from their last positive encounter on show for everybody to see.

She smelled like perfection, her chocolate scented perfume drawing him in, filling his senses with her.

She drove him crazy, made him more furious than he could comprehend. They would fight, they would love, they would fall apart.

Her hand connected with his face, yet he wasn’t angry. No. He connected his lips with hers, feeling her fingers slide through his hair. All eyes were on them, yet everybody had seen this scene before.

They were possessive, they were horrible to one another and others, but god help anybody who messed with their relationship. Only they could crumble the walls that they build.

She pulled back from him, smirking, watching as he bit his lip with temptation.

“Missed me baby?” She winked at him, allowing his body to pull hers along as he grabbed her hand and started leading her outside.

She may be the reason that his small apartment had a broken window and multiple holes in the wall, but he sure as hell didn’t hesitate to follow her to wherever she led.

The alcohol wore off by the time he woke, his head pounding and his vision spinning.

Her leg was stung over his own, both of them as bare as the day they were born. He rose carefully, moving her body from his as gently as he could.

However, in his efforts to make it out without waking her, he dropped his belt, and the clatter of the buckle on the hardwood floor caused her to snap awake.

It escalated quickly.

You want me to forget you? Okay, forget me too.

You tell me you hate me, baby, yeah, I bet you do

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Hargrove!” She shoved at his shoulder, trying to get past him so she could get to the bathroom. He was blocking her way.

“Oh, of course. I’m the asshole.” He snarled, a smile on his face. You’re the one who starts screaming at me, but I’m the one in the wrong!”

“You’re in the wrong because you ducking broke up with me, then tried to skip out before I woke up.” Her hands were in her hair, grasping at the roots. “You’re so fucking selfish. I’m waiting around constantly for you, but I make you wait one fucking time and you’re throwing a tantrum!”

“You left me waiting for an hour, Y/N! What, were you out with Tommy? What about Stevie? You always had a soft spot for him.” They were malicious. They knew how to hurt one another and they both knew it.

“God, you’re such a joke.” She laughed in his face, shoving her shoulder against his so she could grab her stuff from the bathroom. “Sometimes I wish I could forget I ever fucking met you, Billy.”

“You wouldn’t survive without me holding your hand, princess.” He snarled, perfect lips turning up to show perfect teeth.

They connected once again, pulling at one another, crashing into the wall, the door frame, the bed.

“I hate your fucking guts,” she growled, pulling his shirt over his head.

“I know you do, baby.” He flipped them over so his body was covering her own and connecting his lips to hers once again.

I've wasted so much time waitin' around for your phone calls every night

She would sit by the phone every night, waiting for his call. She would excuse some night, knowing if his terrible home life, but when he got his own place, he rarely called, rarely picked up the phone.

She spent so many days, so many nights, waiting up on him.

She got her own back at him.

He was taking her to see a new movie, planning to meet her at the arcade next to the theatre at 6 o’clock. He had to drop the bratty step-sister off, so he figured two birds.

He waited there until an hour later, the movie already beginning. He was seething. He hated being stood up, and she knew it.

Y/N arrived at the theatre 15 minutes later, but there was no Billy in sight, nor his sleek camaro.

She drove to his apartment, furious yet also proud. She gave him a taste of his own medicine, and she couldn’t wait to see how frustrated he was. She hated hurting him, but he hurt her just as bad.

We'd both be better off alone.

Still think I'd get you on the phone with one last breath in me.

I'd die before I let you leave

He had already downed five beers by the time she got there. It was rare for her to see him sober, and it was rare for him to see her while he was sober.

It escalated as soon as she walked in the door, slamming the heavy wood behind her.

“I was waiting for you and you didn’t bother to fucking show up!” He took a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke in her direction. She hated when he smoked, she despised the smell of nicotine on his breath but found the sight of him smoking to be incredibly attractive.

She fell for his bad boy side, and found home in his caring heart and troubled personality. It was a broken home but she couldn’t bare to leave.

The argument grew more and more, she threw a phone book at him, sending it through the window in his living room.

“I’m done. I’m sick of the bullshit, Y/N. We’re fucking better off alone!” He slammed his hand on the table, silencing her shouts of obscenities at him.

She laughed, slumping down onto the beat up couch. They had been saving money every paycheck to get him some new furniture. Y/N had also been putting money away to get her own apartment, despite Billy’s offer for her to live with him.

Such a volatile and temporary relationship couldn’t withstand constantly being in the presence of one another.

“We would die before we ever give up on one another, Billy.”

Tell me why you do the things that make me hate you,

It's an emotional kaleidoscope when I face you,

Permanent calligraphy, I just tattooed your name on me forever, fuck

Y/N and Billy love each other intensely, but they also know exactly how to make the other hate them.

It was a horrible cycle, yet nobody could make them happier than the person they hated the most.

Even if they wanted to forget one another, they could never forget the love they shared.

Tag List: @snookiebrookie (because you’re always so kind)

Let me know if you want to join the billy taglist!

#billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #forget me too #mgk #Halsey #billy gif #angst angst angst #toxic relationships #stranger things

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