#this is not even a flirt but why is my heart fluttering on her behalf

[clairedaring]

I want to be as pretty as Ms. Anong.

MY CHERIE AMOUR (2024) | 1.02

[hannie-dul-set]

IT’S NOT WORTH TRYING TO LEARN OTHER PEOPLE’S LOVE LANGUAGES.

p — MYUNG JAEHYUN x fem! reader. g — humor, fluff, park sungho learns a lesson about minding his own business. w — swearing, death threats (as a form of flirting). 1.5k words.

requested by — @gluion “go kill yourself x “i’m pretty sure they have a crush on me”

note — part of my ship dynamics: insane edition gimmick. this is very the breakup soup coded. i just like writing about a bunch of idiots stressing about the dumpster fire love life of their friend. enjoy.

myung jaehyun’s friends are pretty sure he’s had a very stable, very loving, very normal upbringing.

“stop staring at me, you fucking creep.”

“sorry, i didn’t mean to make your heart flutter. can’t help it when you’re so pretty.”

“i’ll stab your fucking eyes out.”

“my eyes are all yours, pretty.”

so they can’t wrap their head around why he’s acting like he has not a single ounce of self-respect in his body. sungho and leehan watch as their pitiful friend gets shut down again by the most venomous glare, hostile sneer, deflected by the biggest pair of heart eyes in the world that’s ever longingly following your disappearing figure out the library door. “she wants me so bad,” he concludes with a self-righteous smile as he arranges his notes into one neat stack. sungho and leehan share a look. god almighty, please grant their friend wisdom and salvation.

“what...what makes you say that?” sungho attempts to prod. the first step to finding a solution is to figure out the situation. they need to know why myung jaehyun is so down bad for you, and why he’s so convinced that you feel the same way.

“huh?” jaehyun perks up. like he’s genuinely confused sungho has to ask that. “she was so flustered earlier. couldn’t you tell? it was adorable.”

“she threatened to mutilate you…?” 

jaehyun beams. “she sure did.”

there...there is no point trying to understand him, sungho concludes. leehan is, for lack of a better word, getting mildly frustrated. “hyung, what the hell?” he raises. “if telling someone you want them dead is an indication of romantic feelings, then my middle school bullies must’ve been head over heels for me.”

a silence. a pause. “we’ll unpack that later,” sungho tells him. then shifts his attention back to problem child number one. “you. you’re a grown man who has full autonomy over his actions and feelings, and i know that. but as your friend, i just can’t keep watching you being disrespected, jaehyun. i can’t help but get angry on your behalf when you greet her good morning and alll she does is tell you to go fuck yourself!”

admittedly, sungho got a little bit heated at the end there. but he has every right to feel this emotion on behalf of his dense and seemingly unaffected friend— who is still sitting there, a smile on his face, hands on his lap like a patient buddha who has learned the true meaning of peace and serenity.

“sungho-yah,” jaehyun starts with a pleasant hum. “there’s no need to worry. the feeling is totally mutual. i’m telling you, she likes me back.”

speechless.

in fact, sungho and leehan are beyond speechless. they have no idea where this ungrounded certainty comes from. they certainly have even less of an idea on how to fix his lovesickness, bordering on insanity.

so, reasonably— they call for backup.

“the only way for him to get his shit together is if he asks her out for real and finally gets rejected for good,” taesan declares confidently. somehow, they see a point. riwoo lets out an echo of agreement. woonhak asks why they’re all excluding jaehyun from this after school garage meeting. “do you guys know when he’s planning on doing that?”

“no idea,” leehan answers. “but maybe we can pressure him into it.”

“so, should we encourage him instead of telling him to give it up?” sungho raises. taesan affirms. sungho lets out a grunt and a huff. “god, that’s gonna be tough.”

a resounding voice of dissent arises from woonhak. “i don’t get why you’re all going against jaehyun-hyung!” he yells indignantly. “let hyung love whoever he wants! this is a free country! you guys can’t dictate his love!”

“he’s received fuck you’s straight in the face and swears she’s flirting, woonhak. you’re too young to understand.”

it’s four votes against one. woonhak can’t win against his hyung’s determination to save myung jaehyun from his self-dug pit of pitifulness that he’d been in ever since laying eyes on you at the freshman orientation. god, they never should’ve went. he never should’ve shot down jaehyun’s suggestion to just skip it. maybe then, myung jaehyun would still be normal.

but this is not the time to lament and regret. it’s time for sungho to right his wrongs. it’s time to bring jaehyun’s self-respect back, they decide. and it starts with a wake-up call in the form of your inevitable, brutal rejection. 

which, for some reason, does not happen as planned.

“what?”

“we’re going on a date.” jaehyun is as chipper as ever and sungho’s ears are starting to ring. “thanks for the encouragement, sungho!”

it’s ringing. it’s ringing so badly. “wait, what do you mean you’re going on a date?” he attempts to clarify, grabbing jaehyun by the shoulders because this is two-parts concerning, one-part kind of…proud? this guy actually succeeded? “she said yes? she didn’t tell you to fuck off and die in a hole?”

“she did. she looked pretty while saying it.” jaehyun answers with a bright grin. nevermind. this is all parts concerning. sungho “she also told me she’d kill me if i pick her up late after her class tomorrow. we’re going to have dinner at the thai restaurant that just opened. riwoo recommended it.”

sungho does not understand. he cannot understand because you, who seems to hate all of myung jaehyun’s guts for no discernible reason, agreed to go on a date with him? hello? has jaehyun been right this whole time? do you really reciprocate his feelings? or is this just some new form of torture? is his friend a masochist? is he the weird one for making a big fucking deal out of this? is this how relationships work nowadays?

a thought enters sungho’s mind.

hold on a second—

“anyway, i gotta go, dude. a pretty girl is waiting for me.”

—what if this date is a ploy for you to finally get the chance to kill him?

oh my god.

“wait!” sungho’s face is pale. his eyes are wide and frantic. “don’t—don’t go on the date!”

“hm?” jaehyun bats his eyes at him, taking a moment to think. then sparkles in realization. “oh! don’t worry. i’m not gonna show up looking like this. i’m gonna head home first to change.”

“that’s not the problem! jaehyun! no! no!”

this is it, his friend is going to die. that is, unless, he shows up on your date just in time to stop it. yes. there’s still a chance. he knows where the date is happening. he’s gonna tell the rest of them because there’s no way in hell they’d allow myung jaehyun’s cause of death to read stupidity by misconstruing your murderous intent as affection. they are not only going to save jaehyun’s life— but his dignity as well.

“remember, be quiet. be inconspicuous. they can’t figure out we’re here.”

hopefully, things go as planned this time. all five of them are gathered in a booth at the said thai restaurant, the eventual scene of the crime unless they do something about it. sungho is surveying the scene to find where you and jaehyun are seated. leehan nearly trips over his unnecessarily long trench coat while trying to cover more ground. woonhak is using the menu as cover but has since gotten distracted and has started to pick out his order with riwoo and taesan. “hyung, is the khao soi good?”

“yeah, we should order it.”

“what drinks should we get?”

this is hopeless. this is a mess. their best friend is about to die and all they can think about is dinner.

no matter. sungho can still take care of this himself. his eyes scan the main restaurant wing, from left to right, until his eyes double over in a screeching halt to the back of a very familiar round head—

“huh.”

the back of a very familiar round head that doesn’t seem to be facing the threat of decapitation.

sungho sees you and jaehyun sitting across from one another, jaehyun’s fairly loud voice raising over the music and utensils clattering, people chatting and passing by. “you’ve got something on your face.”

“touch my face, and i’ll kill y— hey!”

first of all, sungho wants to claw his own eyes out seeing his friend being disgustingly sweet. second, jaehyun did touch your face with a napkin and it does not seem like you’re attempting to murder him. in fact, you look flustered even. flushed despite the harbored glare, still seated despite your apparent derision and disgust. the back of jaehyun’s head looks exceedingly happy. the dots aren’t connecting. sungho is malfunctioning. 

“should…should we interfere…?” leehan asks, his nose barely peeking out of the trench coat collar.

“i think...i think we should just leave them alone.”

“but isn’t his life in danger?”

“i misunderstood.”

forget misunderstanding. sungho can’t even behind to understand in the first place and has settled that he wouldn’t even try so long as myung jaehyun is happy— happy with being on the receiving end of fuck you’s and go to hell’s in response to his you’re so pretty’s and see you tomorrow’s, happy with getting his advances swatted away and shut down, happy with whatever the fuck is going on between you and him that sungho really can’t just wrap his head around.

IT’S NOT WORTH TRYING TO LEARN OTHER PEOPLE’S LOVE LANGUAGES. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[navybrat817]

Sundresses and Leather

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Your first date with Bucky doesn't go as planned, but that makes it all the more special. Word Count: Over 4.7k Warnings: First date, tension, flirting, brief moments of insecurity, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. Previous Part of AU: Sweet and Strong A/N: More Hottie and Sugar from our Sin on Skin AU. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Tonight was the night. You were going out with Bucky Barnes. Excited for the date was a bit of an understatement. You may have told a few customers you had a date when they wished you a good day.

Thank God they were mostly regulars and seemed happy on my behalf.

"Maybe a sundress isn't nice enough," you told Tess, regretting the words the moment they left your mouth. She didn’t need to deal with you and your overthinking. Again.

"It's plenty nice. You’re going to look amazing,” she argued, going to check on the next batch of cookies. “And he can lift the skirt and bury his-"

"I thought you said I didn't have to get laid on my first date with him," you cut her off.

"You don't have to, but the visual alone will give him something for his spank bank later."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," you smiled, but it quickly faltered.

You weren’t sure why a cloud drifted over your sunny disposition. Bucky was a good guy, a far cry from Richard. Gorgeous, kind, hardworking, the whole package. There was chemistry between the two of you that went beyond mere attraction. Maybe it was the fact that you were falling hard and fast for him that suddenly made you so nervous. You didn’t want to scare him away.

But he said he couldn’t stop thinking about me and he wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it.

Tess gave you a pointed look. “Stop overthinking. I’m begging you.”

“I’m not trying to,” you sighed, your nerves almost tempting you to grab a treat from the case. “What if I fall on my face?”

“Like Bucky would let you hit the ground. Even if you do stumble, that’s life. It isn’t going to change the fact that he likes you,” she said as you helped her with the cookies. You still had work to do. “The guy said he can’t get you off his mind and to text him whenever you want. He does not strike me as the type to just say those things and I know he doesn’t strike you as that type either.”

It took a moment, but your smile came back. She was right. Life wasn’t perfect and you were far from it, but Bucky liked you just as you are. Tonight would be unforgettable no matter what.

“I appreciate the pep talk,” you said, thankful that she told you what you needed to hear. “I’ll even tell you the dirty details if anything happens.”

“Hell yeah, you will. Remember, at this point, I’m living vicariously through you until I find my own hunk,” she winked. “But I mean it. Have fun tonight and get your man.”

I will.

After your shift, you rushed to change for your date. You somehow managed to arrive a few minutes early outside of Bucky's shop and took a deep breath to get yourself under control. Catching your reflection in the window, you smiled before you turned away. Since Bucky hadn’t given you any hint for what you were doing, you chose your nicest sundress and kept your makeup minimal. You looked and felt beautiful, though you wished you would’ve brought a jacket with you.

Maybe Bucky will let me borrow his if he has one.

“Holy shit.”

You spun around when you heard Bucky’s voice behind you, your heart fluttering as he met you on the sidewalk. Instead of the jeans you usually saw him in, he wore khakis, a button up shirt, and a blue blazer that matched his eyes. He had his hair down, perfectly parted on the right side. You were so busy staring at the broad, handsome man that it took you a moment to realize he was trying to hand you something.

Flowers.

“Sorry. You just… wow,” he said as you took the small bouquet, sweeping his gaze over you as your cheeks grew warm. “You look so beautiful.”

You giggled and quickly covered your mouth with your hand, butterflies in your stomach when he gently smiled. “Don’t apologize,” you smiled back, taking a moment to smell the flowers. “You look pretty ‘holy shit’ yourself.”

His nose scrunched as he laughed and offered you his hand. “So, you’re telling me I clean up well. Steve insisted on the blazer when I said I wanted to bring my leather jacket.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Though I wouldn’t have minded the leather jacket,” you said. He would’ve looked gorgeous, as always. “And thank you for suggesting we meet here. We had a last minute order and I was scrambling."

"It's no problem. One of my clients was running a few minutes late and I almost had to take you out in jeans."

"I wouldn't have minded," you said. You both worked hard and understood that things would come up from time to time. "So, where are we headed?"

He cleared his throat as he led you to his car. “Well, do you want the good news or the bad news?”

Your stomach dropped a little. “Mmm. Bad news first,” you said after a moment. “Always better to end on a high note.”

“Bad news was I had planned to take you out on my motorcycle so we could have a picnic in the park. There was going to be live music and I would’ve asked you to dance,” he explained, looking up at the sky. “But…”

“The weather called for a storm tonight, didn’t it?” you mused, a wistful smile on your face when he nodded. The image of being in his arms under the stars as music drifted through the air made your heart skip a beat. It sounded like the perfect evening.

“Yeah. The band is rescheduling,” he said, tucking his hair behind his ear as he looked at the ground. “Then I thought I could take you to this art gallery nearby. They normally have these stunning paintings of landscapes and various statues, but the current exhibit is on human sexuality and reproduction. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but maybe it was too much for a first date.”

“Oh, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad,” you argued as he stopped and took out his phone.

“No?” he asked, tapping his screen before he showed you what you assumed was the page for the gallery.

“…That’s a giant dick,” you said before you could stop yourself, tilting your head as you stared at the phone. “And does that say BALLS?”

An older woman crossing in the opposite direction gave you an amused stare before you and Bucky burst into a fit of laughter. You had to hold on his arm to keep from collapsing on the ground. It was the funniest thing you had seen since you could remember and to think you almost saw it in person.

This date is off to a great start.

“Maybe I wanted to see a giant dick and balls,” you said once you caught your breath, pointing at him when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say ‘all I have to do is pull down my pants’ or something like that.”

But I know he has a big dick. I know.

He smirked as he started walking again. “Only if you ask me nicely, Sugar.”

He’s going to kill my ovaries.

“I’ll ask you very nicely, Hottie,” you teased, wondering exactly where you were going then. “If that was the bad news, what’s the good news?”

“I managed to get us a reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in town,” he said, standing a bit taller.

He’s trying to impress me.

“That's really nice. And I’m sure dinner will be amazing,” you assured him, hoping he didn’t beat himself up over having to change his plans. It wasn’t his fault it was going to rain. He could’ve taken you to a fast food place and it would’ve been fine because you were with him.

“Speaking of, I better get us there so we aren’t late,” he said, opening the door for you to get in. “Maybe if you agree to a second date, I can take you out on my bike and have that picnic.”

“I’d love that,” you smiled, carefully putting the flowers in your lap and trying not to appear too eager that he was already thinking of a second date. You glanced around the car when he got in and drove off, noticing it was cleaner than when he took you home days prior.

Did he clean it for me?

You grinned as he hummed along to the radio, watching as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. “You could’ve made it as a musician if you weren’t a tattoo artist.”

“Now you’re just flattering me, Sugar,” he said. “Believe it or not, if I wasn’t a tattoo artist, I would’ve liked to be a science teacher. I loved science and everything space related growing up.”

“Really?” you asked. He would’ve been a wonderful teacher, no matter what age group he taught. “Okay. That’s another date night.”

“What? Playing teacher?” he joked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to wink at you.

“No,” you giggled, carefully shoving his arm since he was driving. “We’re going to a science museum. That's our third date. I’m going to watch you happily geek out over everything.”

“Yeah?” he asked, glancing at you after he parked the car. “You’d do that?”

“Yeah, I would. I think it would be a blast.”

I just want to spend time with you.

A soft expression took over his features when he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips lightly brushed your skin, heat pooling in your gut as he made eye contact with you. The look alone made you want to skip dinner and go right to dessert. Why not throw caution to the wind?

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised before he got out.

You exhaled slowly and mentally told your libido to calm down. At the very least, you had to get through dinner. He went through the trouble of getting a reservation at a nice place and you weren’t about to take that away from him.

“Oh, wow. I haven’t been here before,” you said once you got a look at the name. Richard used to brag about the place, but never actually took you. From what you remember, he said the food was supposed to be expensive. You didn’t want Bucky to splurge on you.

“I haven’t either,” Bucky admitted. A fancy place didn’t seem like his style. “But it looked romantic.”

You bit your lip as he opened the door, the flickering candlelight in the entryway alone providing an intimate ambience. The date may not have been what he planned, but he clearly did his research and put thought into doing something nice for you. When was the last time someone tried to do something nice for you? When did anyone go out of their way to make you feel special?

“Hello,” Bucky said as the hostess greeted you. “Reservation for two under James.”

James?

The hostess scanned her screen before she looked up. “I’m sorry. That name isn’t coming up.”

Bucky’s cheeks turned pink when you glanced at him. “It should be under James, miss. James Barnes. Reservation for two for 7pm. I spoke with Charles. He confirmed it.”

You moved closer to Bucky when the hostess searched through her screen again. As calm as he sounded, you sensed he was anything but inside. You hoped he wasn’t embarrassed. Maybe she skipped over his name. A simple mistake.

“Charles did make a reservation for you, but he entered it for 7pm next Friday,” she said as she looked between the two of you. “We’re fully booked tonight. I'm sorry, James.”

Oh, no.

There was a tick in Bucky’s jaw before he shook his head and you wanted nothing more than to hug him. “No, that’s… It’s for tonight.”

“I’m so sorry. I can see if we can squeeze a table in for you, but it’ll be at least an hour,” she said, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. She probably expected one or both of you to make a scene. "I can get my manager?"

Bucky swallowed when he looked at you, his cheeks still pink. The candlelight danced in his eyes, but all you saw was sadness. No. You wouldn't allow that. This was your first date and it was going to be amazing.

You put a hand on his arm, his muscles relaxing under your touch. "It's okay. I know this amazing place that’s right around the corner."

"Are you sure?" he asked, the hostess visibly relaxing when you nodded.

"You have a good evening," you said to the hostess and tugged Bucky back toward the door. "I'm sure. Trust me. We may even beat the rain if we walk now."

“Okay,” he said, avoiding your gaze as you left. “Fuck. This is the worst first date, isn’t it?”

Your heart broke for him. All he wanted was to give you a nice evening and everything he tried fell through. “Not even close. And you have nothing to apologize for. Charles messed up the reservation, Hottie, not you.”

“Yeah, he did,” he said, his lip tugging like he wanted to smile. “I just really wanted tonight to be special and since I couldn’t give you the date I planned, I wanted to at least give you something nice. I couldn't even do that.”

Hearing that made you stop, even when you felt the first raindrop. "Tonight is special because you're spending time with me. That's all I wanted," you promised, squeezing his hand for good measure.

"That's really all?" he asked as he squeezed your hand in return.

"Well, not completely," you teased as another raindrop landed on your shoulder. "Maybe a kiss at the end of our date."

A wide smile formed on his face as he leaned in, not quite kissing you. "Whatever you want, Sugar."

As romantic as it was to stand on the sidewalk with him, the rain began to come down harder and had you rushing with him around the corner. “If you're still disappointed, you’ll feel much better when we eat. Antonia’s has the best food,” you said, holding out your hand in a grand gesture as you arrived. “Tada!”

Antonia's was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Not extraordinary on the outside, but lively and bright on the inside. The food and service were top notch. It was one of your favorite places.

“Wait, Antonia's?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “This is where you’re taking me?”

“Yeah,” you replied, suddenly nervous as you faced him. Did he not like it? “Is this okay?”

“This is one of my new favorite restaurants,” he said.

No way.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I designed one of Antonia's tattoos. And I decided to check out the place."

He's full of surprises.

"Then you know you're in for a treat," you winked.

The hearty aroma of the restaurant filled the air as you went inside and wiped some of the rain off your dress. Antonia was speaking with the hostess as you went up to the stand. The owner was involved in virtually every part of her restaurant.

"Welcome to…" Antonia began as she looked at you, then at Bucky, then back at you. "Oh! You two… it's a date!"

Antonia looks so happy.

"Hi. And yes. We're on a date," you giggled when Bucky sheepishly smiled. It was sweet. "You wouldn't happen to have a table for two available, would you?"

Antonia put her hand over her heart and flagged down a waiter with the other. "Lover's special for these two. Go."

You exchanged a look with Bucky, who appeared just as confused as you were. "Lover's special?"

"Yes, yes. Come with me," she said, patting Bucky's cheek before she took you through the restaurant. You expected her to seat you at one of the few empty tables, but she passed them to take you to a door in the back. "Tonight is special and that means a special dinner."

Your eyes widened at the sight before you once she opened the door. There was a lone table in the middle of the room, flowers similar to the bouquet Bucky gave you sat in the center. Unlike the bright main room, the dimmed lights gave the room a romantic glow.

Perfect.

"Peter will serve you. And if you need anything, just ask, okay?" Antonia asked, putting her hand over her heart again. Were there tears in her eyes? "Two of my favorite customers. Together! Enjoy!"

You had to pause and swallow the lump in your throat once she left you alone. A restaurant owner showed more enthusiasm for your date than your mom did for anything that involved you. She likely never would.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, pulling out your chair.

"I'm fine," you replied, refusing to let the thought of your mom damper the evening. "A little chilly. I should've brought a sweater with me."

Bucky removed his blazer and put it around you, tenderness in his blue eyes as he rubbed your arms. "I can't wait to see you in my leather jacket," he said, helping you take your seat before he took his.

Oh, he's going to give me his jacket? Am I going to only wear his jacket? Fuck.

"Thank you," you said, inhaling as he rolled up one of his sleeves beneath the elbow and then the other. You reached across the table to lightly trace one of the tattoos on his right arm. "It was nice of Antonia to put us back here."

"Then why did you look so sad when she left?"

He caught that?

"She just looked so happy to see us together and I didn't expect that. It's nice that someone is rooting for us," you said, tracing your finger along his wrist before you stopped. "I'm sorry. I should've asked before I started touching."

"Don't apologize. I like your touch," he said in a low voice.

You lifted your gaze, seeing fire in his eyes that had nothing to do with the dim lighting. When he turned his hand over to hold yours, you made no move to pull away. You wished you could put your hands all over him.

"Hi! I'm Peter!" The waiter greeted as he brought water to the table. Bucky didn't let go of your hand. "I'll be taking care of you tonight."

"Only one taking care of my girl tonight is me," Bucky said. As much as you loved hearing that, you were glad he gave poor Peter a tiny smile so he could relax. "I'm kidding. It's good to see you, Peter."

"Y-You, too, Mr. Barnes. And you, Miss. You have the best cupcakes in town."

"Thanks," you smiled, quickly putting in your order before you gazed at Bucky. "So, James. Tell me more about you. How long have you been friends with Steve?"

"James is my first name. Everyone calls me Bucky," he chuckled before he shook his head. "And that punk."

You smiled softly as you listened to Bucky, not at all surprised by how easily the conversation went. Steve was his best friend since childhood and they served together before they went into business together. It was evident that he took pride in his shop and respected everyone who worked there. He carried the same affection in his tone when he spoke about his sister, Rebecca. He liked to frequent art galleries with Steve, but also enjoyed riding his bike, reading, and everything science in his spare time.

I could listen to him talk for hours.

"You know, you haven't said much about yourself," he pointed out as he set his napkin on his empty plate.

"I haven't?" You asked.

"No, you haven't and I don't want to monopolize the conversation," he said, leaning forward to give you his full attention. "I want to know more about you."

You tightened the blazer around you, unsure of what to say. "My life isn't exactly exciting," you said, wishing you could think of something clever or fun to discuss.

"Doesn't have to be exciting. I just want to know you," he said before Peter showed back up.

"Would you like to look at the desert menu?" he asked as he took your plates away.

"I think you can bring the check. We're going to skip dessert," you answered, giving Bucky an assuring smile when he frowned. "Let's go to my shop instead."

If Bucky wanted to really know you, you had to tell him more of your story. Your bakery was the only place to do it. And it would be the perfect way to end the evening.

After you left the restaurant, with Antonia asking you to come back again, Bucky drove as safely as he could to the bakery. The rain didn't let up at all. You shrieked as you struggled to get the keys out of your purse, Bucky's blazer now soaked the longer you stood there. "Why didn't I get these out when I was still in your car?!" You shouted over the downpour.

"Why didn't I bring an umbrella?!" He yelled back, putting his hands over your head as if they would protect you.

The two of you practically fell through the door once you unlocked it and shut off the alarm. "We made it," you laughed, careful not to slip on the floor. He had his arm around you just in case. Tess was right, He wouldn't let you fall. "I'll get us some towels and you have your pick of any dessert I have in the fridge."

"You have any cupcakes?" He asked.

Your breath caught in your throat when you stepped back and caught the outline of multiple tattoos through his soaked shirt. "Yeah."

"See something you like?" he smirked, running a hand through his wet hair.

Fuck me.

"I do," you said, glancing down at yourself. "But I'm freezing and I owe you dessert."

Tess might also have words if I let Bucky ravage me by the front door.

You took Bucky to the kitchen and grabbed a few towels. It wouldn't dry you off completely, but it would help. You also put on some soft music. Not to set the mood necessarily, but just in case.

"So, this is where the magic happens," Bucky said, running the towel along his exposed skin.

"It is," you said, placing your hand on the counter. "You said you wanted to know me. It starts here."

"In the kitchen?"

"In the kitchen," you repeated, going to the fridge to take a container of cupcakes out. "I used to visit my grandparents every weekend when I was growing up. My dad wasn't around and my mom said it was for family quality time, but she never stuck around. The reality was that I cramped her style and she passed me off to them because she knew they wouldn't say no."

Bucky's jaw clenched as you let him take a cupcake. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," you said, gripping the lid tightly before you closed the container. "I remember crying because I wanted to take dance classes and try and make friends. My mom said I would be a terrible dancer and that it would be a waste of time and money. A great thing for a kid to hear, right?"

"Jesus," he whispered.

It wasn't exactly the happiest conversation to have, but you wanted to show Bucky a part of you that you didn't show to most people. "My grandma wiped my tears away and brought me into her kitchen. Said she had the perfect cure for the blues. Baking. And that's what we did every weekend until I got old enough to look after myself."

"Your grandma sounds amazing," he said, carefully examining the cupcake in his hand. "And baking became your passion."

"It did. She taught me to pour love into every creation I make. And that's what Tess and I do for others. If someone is having a bad day, at least they can have a treat and feel a little better," you said, pride in your eyes as you looked around. "My grandma supported my dream, but my mom almost disowned me for wanting to run this place. It isn't good enough in her eyes."

I'm not good enough.

Bucky's nostrils flared as he set the dessert down. "Your business isn't good enough for her? What the hell? It's flourishing. I can barely find a lull to come in to get some undivided attention. And your customers love you. She should be proud of you."

His defense of you was heartwarming. "Doesn't matter how successful my business is. She wanted me to marry rich, probably so she could get money from me, but I didn't. She berated me when I broke up with Richard. No matter what I do, I'm never going to be good enough in her eyes," you told him, patting the counter with your hand. "But this makes me happy and that's enough."

"That's why you were sad that Antonia was so happy about our date, wasn't it? Because your mom either doesn't or wouldn't support it," he guessed, reaching for you and pulling you into his arms. "She'll probably hate me. I'm not rich. Covered in tattoos."

"I don't care what she thinks of you. I don't need a rich guy or fancy dates. I just want someone who can provide companionship and support. Someone who respects and cares for me," you said, wrapping your arms around him. "A good, hard-working guy like you deserves the same."

It was too soon to voice it, but Bucky was the kind of man you needed in your life. Someone you could share parts of yourself with and know he wouldn't judge. A man who made your heart race beyond lust.

A partnership.

He stared deeply into your eyes and you had no idea what was going through his head, but his gaze told you so much. How could a pair of eyes be so expressive? "You're perfect, Sugar, and more than enough. You hear me?"

Tears welled up in your eyes before you blinked them away. He sounded sincere and unashamed at his declaration. You hadn't done anything to deserve such praise. "No, I'm not," you whispered.

"You are to me. You took a chance and asked me out. Soothed me when tonight didn't go the way I thought it would," he said, gripping your chin to recapture your gaze. "And you trusted me enough to share something vulnerable with me when you didn't have to. It means everything."

"I feel like I can open up to you," you said as the two of you slowly swayed to the beat. You couldn't remember why you were nervous about your date to begin with.

"And I'll take care of you. I mean it."

I hope he knows I'll take care of him, too.

"You know," you began with a soft smile. "Our first kiss was in your shop."

"It was," he smiled.

"So I think it's only fair that we have our second kiss in my shop," you said.

"You did say you wanted a kiss to end our date," he said, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, but giving you a chance to stop him.

You didn't.

Even though you expected it, you still gasped when he molded his mouth against yours. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, making you both eager and pliant as he licked his way across your lips. When he brushed his tongue against yours and took possession of your mouth, you mewled. Desire nearly blinded you from the taste of him.

I want more.

"I don't want our date to end," you breathed, clutching his arms to steady yourself.

"It doesn't have to," he said, resting a hand on your hip. His eyes were dark and full of want. To have him look at you that way, how could you possibly end the evening with one kiss? Why deny yourself what you both wanted?

"No, it doesn't," you agreed with a coy smile. "So. My place or yours?"

So. How do we think the evening will go? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[slasherhaven]

Could I request the Sinclair brothers with a future s/o that is mute? How would they react to our “friends” making fun of us, but we can’t speak up for ourselves

The Sinclair Brothers with a Mute Future S/O:

Bo Sinclair

As soon as he met you and your group of friends, he knew something wasn’t quite right. You remained silent as they spoke among themselves and to Bo, only giving small non-verbal responses to Bo when he spoke to you directly. Then our friends would scoff.

It wasn’t like you were shy...more like you just wanted to stay out of the way.

He tensed when he heard the first disguised insult thrown your way by one of your ‘friends’, that would explain your behaviour. 

One of your friends had flirted a little with Bo, huffing and rolling her eyes when he kept glancing at you curiously. 

That’s when she told him that you didn’t speak, like she was hoping it would put him off of you, rolling her eyes as she did so. Like you were a burden. 

It only made him dislike them more. Why the hell would they invite you on their trip if they were just going to treat you like shit?

Once Bo checked out the car, he told them that it would be a little while before it was ready and suggesting visiting the wax museum while you waited.

Your friends had agreed and left the garage without even addressing you. You had silently sighed before beginning to follow them.

“It’s Y/n, right?” Bo’s voice made you stop and turn back to him, nodding to answer his question.

“You sure they’re your friends?” he asked and you just shrugged, glancing out of the garage window and seeing that they were heading towards the museum. They hadn’t even noticed that you weren’t with them, you couldn’t help but frown a little.

“They don’t treat you so good” Bo pointed out, making you look back to him. 

You nervously fidgeted with your hands, only shrugging again. You wanted to talk to him, you didn’t want to seem rude, but your friend had already told him that you didn’t speak so you assumed he wasn’t too bothered by it. 

“My brother doesn’t talk, uses his hands normally. I know a little sign language, if you use it” Bo told you, making you look up at him and smile a little. 

‘They just invited me...thought it would be different’ you signed.

Bo was far from an expert in sign language but he knew bits and pieces, enough to understand you if you gestured slower than usual.

He wasn’t sure where the feeling was coming from but he couldn’t help but feel protective over you.

You seemed to shy and sweet, so poorly treated by those who call themselves your friends. He couldn’t help but want you for himself. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. They’ll get what they deserve” Bo assured you with a charming smile and a wink.

It made you blush, though you had no idea what he meant by that.

...you would soon come to learn what exactly his threat entailed when you would be the only on spared.

Vincent Sinclair 

Vincent had first seen you when you wandered into the wax museum with your friends. You had caught his attention, not chatting and laughing with the rest of the group, your attention was completely on his creations and pieces of art. You were admiring them.

He was just glad that somebody was appreciating his work...until he noticed the teasing.

One of the men you were with make a mocking comment about you, at which the rest of the group laughed. You just frowned, hanging your head before wandering off to the other side of the room to examine the paintings on the wall, getting away from the mockery. You didn’t even know why you agreed to come with these so-called friends.

Vincent frowned at the comment, feeling angry on your behalf. How could they call themselves your friends and treat you like that?

But at least they had used your name so he now knew it. Y/n. He hoped Bo would be kind.

When it came to dealing with your group, both Lester and Vincent had asked Bo to take it easy on you, you had already had a rough time and they had both become a little sympathetic since meeting you and your fake friends.

Lucky for you, Bo’s irritated was also mostly aimed at your friends, you really had just seemed like a punchbag that they brought along.

Vincent was the one who ask that you be spared, connecting with you the most. Bo was against it but was slowly convinced by his brothers.

Once you started staying with the brothers, mostly against your will, it was Vincent that you gravitated towards. You communicated with him the best and he was always kind to you, even if he was very shy.

When you first met him, he had apologised for the way your friends treated you, telling you that he knew what it felt like to be mocked for something you couldn’t help. He also apologised for everything that happened since you wandered into Ambrose.

Despite the situation you found yourself in, it was pretty easy to get along with Vincent. You understood each other and a part of you was grateful for that, Vincent was very grateful for you.

Lester Sinclair

Lester had come across your group when you care broke down and you were all standing around it. You were standing a little but away from the group, a slightly sad expression on your face. So, Lester had approached you once he parked and hopped out of his truck.

He had asked you if somethign was wrong, if you needed help, and your eyes widened slightly when yous struggled to respond.

He was confused until one of your friends pretty much pushed you out of the way, annouchign that you couldn’t speak with a scoff before telling him that their car broke down.

Lester cleared his throat, not liking how they treated you even though he only just met you. He told them he could drive a few of you into town and visit the garage.

But then he turned right back to you, making your friends huff and roll their eyes in annoyance, like you were a burden to them. 

“My brother don’t talk much either” Lester told you with a small but genuine smile. 

‘Do you sign?’ you asked using sign language, figuring that he might be able to if his brother used it. 

“Uh...kinda, I’m not very good at it” he confessed, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. 

‘Don’t worry, it’s okay’ you signed with a sincere smile, one that made him smile as well. You really didn’t mind, it just made you smile that he was addressing you and not treating you like you didn’t exist or like you were dumb...as your so-called friends seemed to do. 

“C’mon, let me take ya into town, Bo at the garage can help ya out” his smile widened into something brighter, making you smile more as well, as he gestured towards his truck. Basically telling you that you were invited on the trip into town rather than being left behind.

‘Thank you’ you signed, thanking him for his kindness before following him back to his truck with two of your friends following behind, muttering to each other.

Once you got into town, Lester climbed out of the truck with you all. Your friends had brushed him off and headed to the garage for help. You, on the other hand, thanked him again instead of running off.

You were sure how it happened but the two of you fell into a charmingly awkward conversation. He would clumsily sign something, like he was trying to show off, but his heart would flutter whenever you giggled and gently corrected him.

So, while your shitty friends got on Bo’s last nerve, you continued to speak with Lester.

Of course, your kindness and instant connection led to Lester pleading with Bo to spare you, promising to make sure you didn’t run and promising to be responsible for you. He knew that you might never forgive him for what he was a apart of but he just couldn’t stomach hurting you.

[fandom-collective-writers]

Flames of Jealousy (Diluc Ragnvindr x MC)

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Diluc Ragnvindr x MC(F)

Warnings: NSFW, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Penetration, Orgasm Denial

Written by: @voltage-vixen Prompt: Jealous Sex​

Notes: The MC featured in this story is a former traveler that is of age.

“Diluc, is everything alright? You’re not acting like yourself.”

Ignoring MC’s expressed concern, Diluc snaked his fingers tighter around her own, and proceeded to storm through the village at an increasing pace as he dragged her along for the ride. 

They had attended (unwilling on Diluc’s behalf) a gathering hosted by none other than the Knights of Favonius. Often one to avoid these types of shindigs where civilities were long forgone as the liquor poured throughout the eve, Diluc had exhausted all options of excuses for not attending when the former traveler he was presently dragging away had insisted upon making an appearance. The woman who had chosen to remain in Mondstadt in the stead of pursuing the journey her brother ventured on with after reuniting with one another; she had chosen to reside stationary in the great nation of freedom to remain by his side.  The least he could offer up was to stand by her side as the proud partner of the honorary knight.

That was until that bastard entered the scene. More specifically, that cryo bastard. Kaeya naturally was the object of the affection of many suitors; in which made Diluc question why the Captain of the Calvary had chosen to stand so closely next to his suitor. The two were exchanging what seemed to be innocent enough pleasantries-but it wasn’t until Kaeya flashed that panty dropping smirk in MC’s direction did Diluc find himself storming across the foyer.  

“Pardon. Allow me to extend my deepest apologies, but I’m afraid we must be taking our leave now. An urgent matter has come up at the guild,” Diluc explained to the nearby guests loitering in the grand hall. Latching onto her wrist, Diluc yanked MC towards the large doors to make an exit without allowing any sort of refutes. MC blinked in confusion at Kaeya’s perceptive wink, and waved a swift goodbye to Lisa and Amber before being dragged fully out of the castle. 

Damn, him. Damn, him all to hell! Who the hell does he think he is putting his hands on my woman?!

Furious thoughts of jealousy raged throughout Diluc’s mind, swirling around like the fury of a violent storm. Wanting to wipe Kaeya from his mind, the animosity shifted onto MC instead. Why in the name of the archons was she allowing other men (least of all one that drove him loony) to position themselves in such a close vicinity to her? Gods, did he love this woman more than his own life itself, but she was due for a lesson. He was going to instill a sweet punishment upon MC that she would never forget. Turning the corner, they soon reached the front of Angel’s Share. Throwing the door open to the closed pub, Diluc slammed it shut behind them before his hands were drawn to her body.

The wielder of pyro’s hands descended the trace of MC’s hips until they cupped the curve of her rear end. She breathed a wistful sigh as he fondled the sensitive mound of flesh. Flames of passion scorched through her veins, igniting her body in a burning desire so fierce, her knees trembled in duress at the grazing heat of the tycoon’s caresses. MC swayed into the embrace of Diluc’s chest, crashing into him as she fervently grasped onto his shirt to brace herself.

“Please,” a breathy whisper slipped from the purse of her lips. “Please, Diluc. I can’t wait any longer. Make me burn for you even more.”

Chuckling, Diluc drank in the sounds of MC’s moans amid lifting her up and settling her onto the counter of the bar. Yearning for more, MC’s hands were drawn to the back of his head. Tugging him closer, their lips collided with such a fierceness, her breath lingered, and a pleasurable tingling consumed the greedy inclination between her legs. 

Diluc longed to satisfy his dear MC. Gazing down at the woman in question, she was a sheer exquisite mess of beauty. Her dress was hitched above her hips, sweat trickling down her thighs. The pupils of MC’s eyes were coated in a desirous lust, and her tongue traced the crease of lips in anticipation of what she was aching for. Oh, great archons did he want to worship MC. Both in body and soul, the nobleman wanted to take her here and now, drowning her in all the whims his affections had to offer. 

Alas, his ravishing of MC would have to take pause. For flashbacks of Kaeya’s smug stupid face as he purposely taunted the owner of Dawn Winery danced into his mind. The way MC unsuspectingly smiled at the flirting ministrations the captain tossed her way infuriated Diluc. Never did he question her loyalty to him, but still….a tiny reminder of who MC belonged to wouldn’t harm anyone. In fact, it could even prove to be an enjoyable experience for the two of them. Slipping underneath the disheveled fabric of dress, Diluc caressed her thighs affectionately as he ascended higher until-

“Already, my ember? The real fun hasn’t even begun yet,” Diluc crooned, pressing two of his fingers against the wet fabric of the thin undergarment serving as a bothersome barrier for the woman writhing beneath him.  

Diluc’s grasp around her waist tightened while he nonchalantly guided his fingers up against her lingerie, rubbing circles of friction against the wetness of her slit. MC’s nails clawed into his chest as the digits on his hands pressed proactively onto her core, occasionally flicking the bud of her womanhood. Diluc nudged his forehead against hers and leaned in to lick the bead of sweat trickling down the side of her face.

“Your eyes are practically begging me to indulge you even more,” Diluc huffed. 

Making haste with his own trousers, his pants fell to the floor of the deserted pub. The pads of his fingers gripped firmly onto the trace of her silhouette. His clasp on MC was so tense, he could already make sight of the light bruises forging vividly, staining the surface of her skin. Concerned his jealousy consumed him with an out of line rashness, Diluc was about to withdraw until MC threw her arms around the base of his neck. Refusing to let her man pull away, she cradled him closer to dimiss the distance between them.

“Hold me tighter,” MC solicited, alluring to his carnal desire by batting her long lashes. “Remind me who I belong to.” 

 “Take care you heed not forget those words. Remember, you are mine, and mine alone,” his honeyed response melodiously rang into her ears as Diluc’s hips snapped forward to enjoin the pair as one.

Sensuous whimpers echoed yonder into the abyss of the tavern whilst MC entrusted herself to Diluc’s spoils. Reaching out to clutch the mound of her ass to brace her from the force of his thrusts, Diluc grunted in between the slaps of her breasts heaving down against her chest from the vigorous momentum of each gratifying movement. Diluc entwined his fingers in between MC’s, as her hitched breathing increased in volume. This response of hers was a telltale sign that approaching the final destination was within sight. He leaned in to pepper her fine skin in kisses, occasionally licking away at the beads of perspiration coating her. 

“Diluc,” she breathed, desperate to catch the breaths he stole, yet unable to deny the pining fueling her tantalizing lust.

“I know,” he murmured, lifting her leg to enfold it around the cut of his toned waist to allow him a more accessible angle of entry. 

“MC, everything about you is captivating,” he whispered. “Your very essence exhilarates the fibers of my very being. Never forget that.”

“Ah, stop torturing me, Diluc,” she moaned during the course of each of his lavish pecks that were assaulting the nape of MC’s neck.

“I shall cease the vexing of this punishment if you surrender and concede yourself over to me,” Diluc demanded, his tone raspy as he pined to bear witness to the scene of MC immersing herself while he drove her to climax. “Say my name-no, scratch that. Scream my name. Scream my name until that lovely voice of yours goes hoarse. Shout high and loud to the mighty archons that I’m the only one that will ever be able to please you.”

Halting the snapping motions of his hips, Diluc held firm and reached out to cradle MC’s chin. Tilting her gaze to lock into his own, he etched the part of her lower lip with his thumb. Tauntingly slow, Diluc slightly shifted the angle of his lower body, further inflicting torment on his squirming companion. Instead of bestowing the release MC was anticipating, the vision holder held her desire hostage by denying any additional penetration.

“Pledge yourself in a vow that your flames shall only ever be ignited by I. Do it. Do it now, and I will set you free from this heat.”

“Diluc, I-DILUC!!!!!”

An extravagant wanton scream escaped from MC, since despite Diluc’s request, he simply couldn’t bear to waste another moment and plunged deeper back into her core. The lewd sounds of her wetness resounded in the air as he pounded into MC, bucking madly, eager to remind her that it was him and him alone that would always be there to fulfill each and every one of her fantasies. It would be him, and him alone, that would allow MC to use him emotionally and physically as she sought fit to indulge in her heart’s content. 

Wrapped around each other, the lines of where he began and she ended were lost in the swirl of pleasure trickling down to the curl of their toes. The heat consuming them was greater than it had ever been prior to this rough lovemaking session, and Diluc chewed on his lip to will himself to hold on for just a while longer.

Come on, hang in there.. Not until MC is satisfied. I can feel her tightening around me, so surely she should be finishing any moment.

Diluc’s prayers were answered, because he felt the familiar tightening of her encompassing around him. A wistful sigh accompanied MC’s relieved one as her body quivered from the aftermath of her coils fluttering from reaching her ograsm. Her body heaved and her back arched down onto the counter of the bar. Heavy and dropping from the aftermath of pleasure, MC was ready for a post-sex slumber and cuddles with Diluc. Placing her hands on the wood counter, MC was about to drop down onto the floor when the grip of her man encircled her suddenly.

“Bold of you to assume we were finished with your punishment,” Diluc coaxed, ignoring the squeal when he flipped MC over. Her bountiful chest was pressed flat up against the hard finished wood of the counter. “You were quite the naughty little vixen today, my ember. Perhaps another round should help you more clearly understand the error of your ways.”

Flinching out of reaction, the tension faded away and MC relaxed onto the counter while Diluc sprinkled kisses on her bare back. She whimpered when his arousal pressed once again at her opening, but then groaned when he pulled back. 

“Fear not, my darling,” Diluc crooned, running his hand to tenderly stroke her back. “I plan on pleasuring you in all of our favorite positions until I’m satisfied that the fact that you are mine is engraved in your heart.” 

His fingers twined through her hair, and Diluc gave a slight tug to bring MC closer to him. She wiggled her bum in the air impatiently, and groaned when his lips touched the responsive spot.

“Diluc,” MC swooned, her words as wet as the happy tears trickling down the side of her face. “I’m yours, my hero. Only yours, for now until forever separates us.”

“Until forever…..,” Diluc mimicked her promise, and willed his body for another round. Those were the final words uttered as they were eventually replaced with incoherent babblings, moans, and whimpers from the delight of losing themselves in each other. 

The fates would ensure that Diluc and MC would live a prosperous future together. That much Diluc was sure of. Despite his perceptions, Diluc abided into a vow that for the rest of their days together, he would spend any amount of time reminding MC of just that fact.

[sirensmojo]

“Remember The Missing” - Ivar The Boneless x Reader x Ubbe

Summary: You're sent to Kattegat by your uncle for settling a deal with King Ragnar. No need to mention as soon as your feet touch the dry ground, it's the Ragnarsons' eyes you caught.

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless x Reader x Ubbe (but All the Ragnarsons make an appearance)

Warnings: fluff, light smut, angst at the end

Word Count: 3,394

*Masterlist*

The brothers didn't have the same taste when it comes to women. Whenas Ivar and Sigurd fell for thralls, Hvitserk for simple woman, Ubbe for athletic shieldmaiden, when you dropped off the boat, their mouth surely dropped too. That's the first thing that caught your eyes, four tall men, dressed in fur, clean and braided hair with eyes as blue as the sky. Those piercing eyes were pointed right at you, although you were quite used to being stared at. From your tamed hair falling perfectly around your face shape, highlighting your complexion to your reddened cheeks from the cold that underlined Y/C eyes, making your pupils scintillate, every detail seemed to mesmerize them.

Once out of the boat, you readjusted your large and dark cloak that didn't allow the Vikings to check up on your body features but they'd bet their life everything about it was perfect. Your eyes sweep the areas without dawdling on things, as you found out what you looked for. You started to walk towards them, each of your step arousing their desire deep into their core, and stopped in front of them.

"King Ragnar, I surmise," your soothing voice purred in their ears like honey. You held your hand to the man and instead of shaking it, he pecks your fingers.  You slightly raised your brows but didn't make any comments.

You soon noticed the stares still on you and glanced at the men standing beside the King, tilting your head to the side in curiosity, the rumors were true. Men of the North were, indeed, handsome. Their features, the care accorded to their looks, even your nostrils betrayed you, as they curled up a little, their spicy wooded smell fondling your nose. "Here are my sons, from right to left: Ivar The Boneless, Hvitserk, Sigurd Snake In The Eye, and Ubbe." The bearded men spoke, lifting the veil on the identity of your seemingly new fans. You didn't miss how the four pairs of eyes have been devouring you but chose to ignore it for the sake of the alliance. Thus your clenched jaws indicated your displeasure.You had quite a temper, that was the exact reason why you were the one sent by your uncle. He tried many times to tame your ways... In vain. Although you promised him this time, you'll behave on behalf of everything he has done for you since the death of your late mother.

"I'm Y/n Of Stilfhel, pleasure is mine." You quickly bowed, gripping onto your dress for it not to meet the soil. The ragnarsons remained silent, not that you expected something else from them, seeing how focused they were to ogle you. You knew better. Everywhere you walked, people would stare at you, In your own kingdom it was because of your status, or so you'd like to believe. In foreign countries, you accepted it was because, for some reason, men found you pleasurable to look at. No need to mention that whenever you'd open your mouth, they would instantly lose interest in you, for you sounded nothing like a princess. When it wasn't you cursing, the problem was the topics on which you conversed. War, fights, battles, swords, economics, trading.

No men of your homeland needed or wanted a woman that had an opinion of everything.

But you were no princess, indeed, your uncle took you as his own daughter at the request of your mother back on her deathbed. This was her last wish, and your uncle being a good man led to you living in the palace without having the weight of duties on your shoulders. Maybe you grew too comfortable, thought your uncle at first, but he soon enough found out it was only you being you.

***

Once installed in the Great Hall, you take off your cloak and give it to the thrall waiting for it, exposing a beautiful azure dress made out of thick fabric. A single thin leather belt tightened it at your waist, revealing your curved hips and generous chest. Your sober dress didn't need any jewels or extravagance as your own body was already doing the job. An abnormal cut departing from your thighs down to your ankles betrayed your cover of "naive princess". If only they knew under that dress was hidden tones of small weapons, that thought making you smile. The man sat right in front of you did not miss any of your lips curling up as you brushed down your hands on the side of your dress, trying to hide the cut you made.

Traveling in that get-up was far from comfortable, you had to do something, right?

You thank the thrall with a small smile and finally sat down. "Is everything alright?" Asked Ragnar at the sight of your grimace. You forced a smile and nodded, "Yeah, of course. Everything's fine, my King" you succeed at answering. Glancing quickly around the table you slide your hands under your dress and straightens both your legs, trying to grab the hilt of your swords that buried itself into your ribs.��When Hvitserk and Ivar abruptly turned their head towards you, both confused and satisfied, you firstly ignore them, but as your fingers finally grip onto your sword, their stare only grew more ravenous. At this exact instant, you understood what was happening, you were playing footsie with both of them. Your left foot caressing the inside thigh of Hvitserk whereas your right one got dangerously close of Ivar's core. A nervous rictus drew on your lips as you thought of something to get out this situation. You completely slump on the table to bridge the gap between your palm and the handle of your sword. Once you got it, you slowly push it out the piece of leather holding it and slide her against your bare skin before placing her on the ground. You fold your feet back to their initial position. Ivar was still looking at you, lips slightly parted with astonishment and desire twinkling in his eyes whereas Hvitserk's look was less shy in demonstration of what was going on in his mind.

"I've heard tones of stories about you Y/n," Ragnar let out as he motioned to a thrall to fill your cup with ale. Your eyes dawdled on the cup, as you kept your bottom lips in between your teeth. "Of me?" You faint not to know what he was talking about. "How so?" You added, your eyes still fixed on the liquid purring down in the container. If you start drinking now, you'll still be there in the morning, completely drunk but still wanting more ale. You will not be able to control yourself anymore, and the pretty princess will be gone."That you'd never been beaten by ale," The king continues with a defying tone. "Oh yeah? You're sure it's about me?" You raised a brow at him, glancing at the people around the table. You'd be ready to receive ugly stares by now, but they didn't come, to your surprise. Usually, as soon as someone used to put that subject on the table when with your uncle, grimaces could be seen on the surrounding faces while murmurs could be heard. 

Here, stares were fixed on you, but without any grimaces nor disgusted sounds. The men around the table were quite intrigued, maybe they didn't know what their father spoke about. You grabbed the cup hungrily, some of its content escaping the cup to drop on the oak table. You sipped a mouthful of liquor, squinting your eyes at the feelings of the liquid spreading into your body.

"Y/n Of Stilfhel, there's only one, isn't it?" Ragnar bantered as you finished your cup sooner said than done. You glanced at the thrall standing near the doors and motioned her to come. Once she presented herself before you, you carefully took off her hands the carafe and spill some more liquid into your cup. "So you heard about my superpower," you nonchalantly replied. "You must've traveled a lot to have found out. I've never put my feet on that ground before." You pointed the spot with your cup. "I have, but let's not dawdle on my idle stories, please tell us more about your presence here." "It is said, the agreement you share with my uncle must be sealed someway," Hearing your words, the heart of the men surrounding you fluttered. The first thing they thought about when hearing "sealing"  was marriage. Of course, it was. Why else letting a princess journey by herself to a foreign country?

They glanced at their father, then at you. Soon their eyes flickered from on to another's face. It was to who will seduce you first. You were a challenge atop of being a mystery. 

***

Ubbe leaned in your ear and murmured a joke about Sigurd, which make you choked on your drink. You glanced at the poor target of the man sitting beside you and shook your head both sides giggling. He instantly scowled at his brother, wondering what he could've said. Minutes passed before Hvitserk dared to approach you, he tried to be subtle but, hard luck for him, you weren't that naive. He fainted to join your side of the table to serve himself some more ale, glancing at you here and there. This whole scene made you laugh but you tried to muffle it, as you didn't want to lose all the fun. "Is the ale good?" He tried. "I don't know, you tell me," you raised your brows, as he neared his cups to his lips. He chuckled as he sips some of his drink. "How is that you're never drunk?" "Gods, believe me, I am, most of the time, but I can stand still, even play strategic games!" You heartedly let out as you leaned toward him. "Yeah? We should test that then, I'll wait right in my seat for you to come when you'll be very drunk," he winces at you as he got up from the chair beside you. "Count on it," you flirted back with a soft voice. You attentively followed his moves until some lips encountered your ear. Ubbe, this man really wasn't afraid of anything, his extreme proximity surprisingly warmed you up. Even if wasn't winter yet, the nights were cold, your skin being very sensitive did not help.

"I bet a night with you he'll be sleepy drunk in exactly 4 more cups," the man mutters in your neck, as a shiver spread from your back to your arms. Gods only know how, but he noticed it, looking down and grabbing your hands in his. "Bet held," you exhaled, trying to get away from his grip, but he didn't let go. Your eyes go to both his hands squeezing yours to his face. You didn't realize how close he was, only few inches away. If he turned his head to you at this precise moment, your lips would practically touch. The warmth emanating from his fondles spread to both your arm before dangerously nearing your guts, the center of your aroused desire. Now that he was so close, you noticed the straightness of his jaw, the plumpness of his lips, and how soft his skin seemed to be. When he turned his face, you managed to slip your hands out his grip and move your head backward, a nervous laugh escaping your gritted teeth. He was more than enticing, no doubt.

But you didn't come for that...

Speaking of your duty, your brows knitted as your eyes were searching the place for Ragnar. He wasn't there anymore. "Told you," Ubbe chuckled pointing out his little brother Hvitserk, face down to the table. "Yeah, he seems a bit dead, but I guess he's okay. At least, I hope," you grimaced, tilting your head. You needed to get some fresh air, some hours ago you were in a boat, almost alone, only with a few guards that your uncle forced you to bring and now you were surrendered by a bunch of handsome men. You excused yourself to Ubbe and walk perfectly fine to the doors. The man slid his head to the side, his mouth forming an "o", as he watched you walk away. He was more looking at your body than anything, your curves bouncing from a foot to the other. Once out, you exhaled deeply, closing your eyes a few seconds. "A bit overwhelmed?" you heard a voice, knocking you out the bubble you were in. "I'm not going to lie," you admitted, looking down. "I see you can stand as straight as if no ale oozed in your system. So it was what my father was talking about," "I know you can do better than that." You cut him off, making Ivar turns his head to yours, while you were looking faraway before you. "Huh?" He pondered, still gazing at you. "I love to talk about battles and war. Not about me being okay with drinking ten dozens of cups of ale," you confessed. "Than I wondered what you were talking about with my brother," he bluntly let out, shrugging. "He's got some move" you tried to convince him. He perfectly understood you were talking about Ubbe's ability to seduce women and riposted as soon as your words left your throat. He certainly knew what he was talking about. "Oh, I don't doubt that. I only thought you wouldn't let yourself be trapped in it," "I'm not," "So why you got out?" "I--I..." you stuttered, without being able to invent anything. Perhaps the ale was starting to get to your head.

"My name's Ivar, not 'I--I'," he mimicked your pout and voice. You hassled to chuckle and nudged him. "Stilfhel is an interesting name," Ivar let out, loudly breathing out. "As interesting as Y/n?" You gauge his reaction with a small smile at the corner of your lips. "See, you are flirty with me now,"

"Arrrgh, you're too quick for me," you faked being offended. "I bet you knew the way of sealing the alliance between both our lands have nothing to do with marriage." He nodded to himself, slowly understanding your games. "True, but I couldn't restrain myself to play a little with the minds of your brothers..." You paused, closely looking at the Viking. A genuine smile brightened your face, your eyes crinkled. "I'm glad it didn't get on you,"

"Sigurd didn't try anything,"

"Because he saw Hvisterk kind off failing," You tilted your head to him, only to encounter his eyes. They were as blue as your dress. You soon drown into them as he didn't move his stare. "Ivar The Boneless, right?" "Hmm," he agreed, clearing his throat. "I'll remember it," you mutter for yourself.

***

You tried to remember the words of the thrall when you asked her about the chamber of the Prince. You were drunk, the ale was deeply rooted in your system, but that doesn't stop you from walking through the corridors before you opened a door. "Y/n? Wha--t" "Shhh", you responded as you got closer the bed. You finally crawled into it, dangerously getting nearer the man. As you approached, Ubbe leaned his back on his pillows, intently watching your gestures. You finally got on top of him, leaning onto his chest, your lips dropping feverish kisses on his lower belly. His eyes didn't leave yours, he was concentrated in the twinkle in your eyes as if he looked away, you'll vanish in a cloud of smoke. You slowly started to kiss your way up to his neck, which you bite before playing with his skin in between your teeth. His silent groans directly reached your ears making your desire for him grew stronger each time his hoarse voice resonated in your head.  When you straddled him, after benching up your dress to your hips, he exhaled deeply, relieved the space between you has been filled. His hands ceased your hips, slowly sliding to your ass as he nuzzled his way to your face, making you look at him. Your mouth was open, your eyes getting lost together. "You're so beautiful," he slurred, incapable of letting go of your stare. "You're even more," you offered him a smile that made his heart skip a beat.  He swiftly crashed his lips on yours, making moan. He kneaded your skin with so much strength, you were sure to found bruises wherever he touched later.  You ground down on him, feeling his growing bump right in between your tighs, where you were already ready for him.

***

After you make out, Ubbe directly fell asleep, you didn't know if it was because of your little sport session or the alcohol. Whatever, you weren't asleep, unlike you. It wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you needed more than sex. You planned on going back to your room, but instead, you stopped before another door, his door. You remember the blue of his eyes, his expression when you were face to face around the table earlier, and the way he articulated your name: with such harmony and softness. You pushed open the door, entering a total black room, "Ivar?" you ask loudly, making sure the door was closed behind you before asking for him.  At first, you were welcomed by a silence, but as your eyes got used to the darkness, you could glimpse of two light sparkles turned right at you. "I--hum..." you couldn't find the right words, how did you find yourself so nervous when not even an hour ago you were entering Ubbe's chamber so confidently? "Can I stay with you?" your voice echoed in the room as if it was empty. Still no response. You moved forward the bed, aiming at the opposite side of where you glimpsed the scintillating eyes. "I take that as a yes," you continued to talk, even if he didn't want you or even talk to you, you couldn't help but feel the need to be in his company again. "I'm coming under the furs, alright? Welcome me there." you encouraged him. "You lied," he finally spoke. You were shifting your body inside of the shits, under the furs when you stopped in track. Did he recognize you? "Earlier you said you never put a foot down this soil, you lied," he finished, quite bluntly.

You wanted to speak but the saliva in your mouth was too thick, even making it hard to swallow. You gave-up your chance to give him an explanation. 

"I knew I already saw your face before, not too long ago actually. You left me waiting for something that would've never happened," his tone was firm but not angry. "Why?" His voice broke to silence. "I knew I wasn't staying for long, I didn't want you to wait for me. You were supposed to forget me, Ivar..." You murmured, without trying to justify yourself. "How could I forget what I gave you, what we shared?" "I don't know," you allowed."Me neither, but still you lied to me back then, about your name, your status, everything!"

"I didn't lie when I came sneaking close to your body every night. I didn't lie when we were meeting in secret in the woods to look at the sunsets and lying on our back watching the forms of the clouds," you lowly let out as you got closer to his chest. Your palm patted his torso before going up to his cheek. Now you're holding his face so his eyes stick with yours, unable to escape from your hold, just like you used to two years ago. "When my uncle asked for a messenger I volunteered," you started to be swoon. His ablaze stare would kill you right now if they could. Instead, Ivar lifted his rough and huge hand to your face, wiping away the few tears that have filled up your eyes. "I wanted to see you again, feel you again..." you added as he pulled your head toward his bare chest. Your eyes closed, and your mind eased in less than a minute, soothed by the rhythm of the Viking's heartbeats. 

"Don't leave," he managed to articulate despite the nervousness inhabiting him at this instant. His arms closed around your weak body as he held you tightly against him, to your greatest pleasure.

Ivar Permanent Tag: @youbloodymadgenius​

[calligraphist-artemisia]

Scattered Blue (Part 1)

Written for the Kidge Spring Event!

Prompt 3: Forget-me-nots | True Love, Memories, Remembrance 

Summary: Alternate Universe. From the moment the first blue petal passed her lips, Pidge knew what was happening to her.

Also posted on AO3 under the username Kishirokitsune

❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀

Part One: Pidge

The small blue petal haunted her from the time she woke up to the time she laid her head down to go back to sleep. There was a part of her that desperately wanted to ignore it and what it meant, hoping it would go away if she just wished hard enough for it.

But as with all things in life, wishing did nothing without her also taking action.

Pidge covered her mouth as she coughed hard, feeling something slide up through her throat until it splattered out into her hand. She caught a glimpse of blue as she shoved that hand into her pocket to hide the evidence.

“Is everything okay?” Hunk asked in concern. He and Lance sat across from her at the cafe table they'd snagged for their weekly lunch.

“Everything's great!” she lied with a smile. “How was your flight, Lance? You transported some heavy cargo to the east coast base, right?”

Lance shrugged. “It was just a normal, boring flight. No issues.”

“Which is a good thing,” Hunk said, his tone long-suffering.

Lance agreed with a grumble that spoke strongly of his true feelings. He'd always dreamed of being more than a “simple” cargo pilot, no matter how often Pidge and Hunk tried to remind him that he was the backbone of the Garrison and served a pivotal role in keeping everything running smoothly.

“What about you?” Hunk asked Pidge. “You and Keith have been testing the new jets. That must be fun.”

Pidge's heart fluttered at the mention of Keith's name and she swallowed to try and stop the cough that threatened to overtake her. “Um, y-yeah. Yeah, it's been a ton of fun.”

Hunk and Lance exchanged alarmed looks at her unusually lackluster response and Pidge wanted to swear, but instead, she reached for her water and took several swallows until her throat was clear.

“Keith giving you problems? I could kick his butt for you,” Lance volunteered.

“We're fine, so please don't get yourself suspended trying to fight him,” Pidge said with a roll of her eyes. She set down her drink. “Our test flight went great! We're just waiting for the technical report to come back before we can go up again and there were a few minor tweaks the ground crew wanted to make to improve how responsive the controls are. Shiro's been coaching us through new drills while we wait.”

“Ugh, you're so lucky. You get Shiro as a mentor and you get to test fly the new jets. Can we trade lives for one day?” Lance asked.

“That means you'd have to work with Keith,” Pidge reminded him.

“Good point. I'd much rather trade with Keith and have you as my partner,” Lance said, sitting back in his chair as the waitress arrived with their meals.

Pidge rolled her eyes as he went about his usual routine of flirting with their waitress. She briefly considered apologizing on his behalf but figured it would only encourage him to keep going. At least he wasn't making a complete fool of himself and thus, by extension, of her and Hunk as well.

They didn't do much talking as they enjoyed their food and it was only as they got down to the last few bites and were contemplating dessert that Pidge asked Hunk how he was doing in the engineering department. His eyes lit up as he began describing their experiments with a new lightspeed engine that they hoped would be capable of drastically reducing the amount of time it took to get to the farthest planets in their solar system.

“Pretty soon you and Keith will be preparing to fly one of these! Well, uh, if everything goes the way we hope,” Hunk said, rapidly backpedaling in an attempt to curb his own enthusiasm.

“That sounds incredible, Hunk! You'll have to keep me updated,” Pidge said.

Hunk grinned back at her. “I will.”

In the end, they decided against ordering dessert at the cafe and instead walked a few blocks down to Lance's favorite gelato place where they each got a scoop in a little paper cup so they could walk and eat at the same time.

Every now and then, Pidge had to turn away and cough, though thankfully she didn't end up with any fresh petals. For the rest of the night, she didn't find a single speck of blue when she pulled her hand away and she went to bed with a smile on her face and no worry lingering in her mind.

She danced around her room with a spring in her step when morning came, taking a little extra time on her hair and putting a little bit of color on her eyelids, which she normally saved for special occasions. By some miracle, she didn't drip any of her breakfast onto her uniform and was able to leave the house soon after by catching a ride with her brother, who was also on his way to the Galaxy Garrison.

They split up after he parked in the Garrison's garage, with Matt heading over to the labs where they were analyzing new plugs taken from Saturn's moon, Enceladus, while Pidge went to the gym to meet up with her flight partner and get started on their training for the day.

Keith was already there warming up when she arrived. His black hair was tied back out of his face and he had swapped out of the heavy uniform in favor of a pair of gray shorts and a black tank top.

Pidge caught his attention with a wave before gesturing towards the locker room, silently indicating that she was going to get changed and would be out soon. Once she was dressed in her own gray shorts and Garrison-provided orange shirt she jogged out to Keith, dodging around the others who were taking advantage of the open gym.

“Hey, did you get the itinerary Shiro sent?” Keith asked the moment she was close enough to be heard.

Pidge had to take a moment to think about it. She's woken up to two messages from Shiro that morning – one was a note regarding a slight change in their schedule and the other was a list of what they'd be covering that week. She assumed he was talking about the week-long one. “I glanced it over. It looks like it's mostly what we do every week.”

“Yeah, except for Friday. Do you think I can convince Shiro to give me a pass to skip out on the annual health screening after what they pulled last year?” Keith asked.

“Doubt it, though I bet he'd go with you if you're really worried about it,” Pidge said as dread began to creep in her chest.

At their last screening, the nurse helping Keith found something “odd” in his blood and ordered him into quarantine for two weeks while they tried to puzzle it out. The Garrison medical team ran test after test, asking Keith all kinds of invasive questions, until Shiro, with the help of Commander Iverson, put an end to it all. Keith was let go, but he then had to suffer through several months of resurgent rumors about his parentage and whether or not his abilities were because he wasn't fully human.

Keith was anti-social and a little awkward, which when coupled with his innate sense of how to pilot and the fact that he out-flew even seasoned pilots on the simulator on his first try, led to a number of rumors that one of his parents weren't human or even that Keith himself was born somewhere far beyond their solar system. It was all nonsense, of course.

Pidge had her own reasons for being worried about the screening. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they would find out about her affliction.

Hanahaki.

Just putting a name to it made it feel all the more real and terrifying.

“Hey,” Keith said, nudging her gently. “It'll be alright. I'm really not worried about anything happening again this year. They wouldn't dare.”

Pidge did her best to smile and try to reassure him that she'd also be there to stop them if they tried anything, but the weight of what was happening to her dragged her down, threatening to drown her if she didn't wrestle back control of her emotions. Her breath stuttered in her chest, a cough building even as she cleared her throat to try and chase it off. Her eyes watered.

“Pidge?” Keith's tone turned concerned and he placed one hand on her back to keep her steady.

She couldn't hold it back any longer.

Once her coughing started, it was nearly impossible to stop as something thick and slightly scratched traveled up through her throat, threatening to block her breathing, until it finally began to slide out. Pidge gagged and coughed even harder, forcing a long stem and the accompanying blooms out of her mouth and into her hands.

All she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat. Dark spots danced across her vision and she swayed, nominally aware of Keith holding her up. Pidge closed her eyes.

❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀

She woke in the medical wing.

Or at least, she thought that was where she was at first glance, but closer inspection of the wall next to her and the lack of orange décor told her that she was most likely at the Plaht City Memorial Hospital. Pidge stared at the wall for a moment and then slowly, stiffly turned her head to look around the room, which was when she realized Keith was sitting at her bedside and staring at her with a worried expression on his face.

“Wh... what happened?” Pidge groggily asked.

“You passed out,” Keith told her. “Pidge, why didn't you say anything sooner?”

She looked away from him. “Didn't want to. S'fine, Keith. I can handle it.”

“You can handle it? Pidge, this isn't going to go away on its own!” Keith's voice raised to a near shout. He blanched and ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to calm down. “You... Will you at least tell me who it is? I could go get them and... and then everything would be fine, right? Unless... you've already told them?”

Pidge swallowed thickly and glanced to the bedside table, hoping to see a glass of water there, but there was nothing. “It doesn't matter.”

“Of course it matters!”

“They don't feel the same way,” Pidge said, refusing to meet his eyes. “I don't need to ask them in order to know that.”

Keith growled in frustration and stood up. “I don't buy that for a second! Who wouldn't like you?”

“Keith...”

“Just tell me who it is and I'll go talk to them,” he said fiercely. “Or I'll bring them here, whichever works best for you. Please, Pidge, I just want to help. You're my best friend.”

Her chest clenched painfully at those words and Pidge wondered for a moment if she were about to be launched into another coughing fit, but after a moment or two, the pain subsided to mere discomfort, which allowed her to speak again.

Not that she really wanted to speak, since that meant revealing the truth: she was in love with him.

That was the cause of the Hanahaki Disease. Flowers would take root in the lungs, growing until there was no place left for them to go. The body naturally tried to rid itself of the invasion by coughing them up but there was only so long that could keep the disease at bay before it became too much for the body to handle. Sometimes, the person afflicted could “cure” themselves by falling out of love before the disease progressed too far. Otherwise, there were three ways it could end: in the death of the infected, by surgical removal, or by having their love reciprocated.

The last of those was the best-case scenario – the one that was often used in the plots of movies or cheesy romance novels. Having one's love returned would effectively shrink the flowers until they were gone completely.

Surgery was a more recent option, though one that some still chose to reject even if it meant their death. Choosing to surgically remove the flowers meant also removing any feelings they had for that person and often resulted in the complete loss of memory of them as well. No one could pinpoint why it was like that and all attempts to improve on the surgery fell flat.

Those were the options sitting before Pidge.

She didn't want to die. That much was for certain. There was still so much she wanted to see and do in the world, and though it broke her heart to think of needing to do it all without Keith, her partner, steadfast by her side, she wasn't going to give it all up. Besides, there was still the chance that she wouldn't forget about him. She was too stubborn for that. And if she could remember, maybe they could rebuild their friendship as well.

But what if she didn't remember?

Pidge slowly met his eyes.

He was her best friend too; the first person her own age that she'd ever truly gotten along with and felt comfortable around. Life without him wouldn't be nearly as vibrant. She couldn't lose him.

“Don't leave me,” she begged, her chest constricting as she forced the words out. She tried to sit up, her arms trembling from the effort, but gave up as Keith moved to help her. She shook her head and blinked back tears as she caught a whiff of his cologne, which usually inspired warm and fuzzy feelings, but instead dredged up an intense need to cough.

She swallowed, trying to force it away. She needed to talk first.

“Of course I'm not going to leave,” Keith tried to reassure her.

Pidge shook her head. “If... If I forget you, please don't leave me.”

Keith made a confused sound. “Why would you forget...?”

She could hear the exact moment he put the pieces together. The way his voice cracked was a dead giveaway just before his expression crumbled in distress. She reached out and grasped his hand. “It's okay, Keith. I know.”

He sucked in a shuddering breath. “It's not okay! Pidge, I-”

“You're not allowed to blame yourself,” she cut in. “This isn't your fault. You can't help who you like. Or who you don't like.”

While it wasn't something they'd exclusively talked about, she'd gotten the gist from past conversations that he wasn't someone interested in any kind of romance. He preferred focusing on his career and studies, which was something they'd always had in common right up until she went and fell for him.

She had to look away from him for a moment. “It's just... you're my best friend too and I don't want to forget that, but if I do then I need you to be there and make sure we stick together. I know that's a lot to ask.”

“No, it isn't,” Keith heatedly denied. “Of course I'll stay with you.”

Though Pidge mostly felt relieved by his agreeing to stay with her, there was still that sliver of worry that things could go wrong for them. But what choice did they really have?

She was saved from needing to talk about it more by the arrival of Shiro and her family, who crowded around her bed to ask if she was alright and if there was anything they could do to help. Matt seemed particularly stricken that he hadn't noticed anything wrong when he spent the most time with her, though her mom was a close second.

Once he was sure Pidge would be okay, her dad took charge of the situation and arranged for her surgery to take place that evening by calling on a few favors and using his influence as a Commander at the Galaxy Garrison. It took a little more convincing on Pidge's part, as well as some hefty backup from Shiro, to make an allowance for Keith to stay with her outside of surgery. It all happened so fast that she didn't have time to think about everything else she wanted to say to Keith, just in case she wouldn't get the chance later.

Her family stayed until the last few minutes until Shiro was able to direct them out into the waiting room so she and Keith could have one last moment alone.

And it was in those last few minutes that genuine fear struck Pidge.

She didn't want to forget him.

She didn't want to lose his friendship.

Heavy tears flooded her eyes, dripping down her cheeks without her fully realizing it. She choked back a sob as she looked at Keith. “I-I-...”

She couldn't get the words out.

Keith didn't need her to say anything. He got up so he could sit on the edge of her bed instead, cradling her against him and offering physical comfort. He refused to budge as the anesthesiologist entered and began prepping her arm for the IV which would administer the anesthetic directly into her bloodstream.

“Count backward from one-hundred, dear.”

Pidge tried, but she was still too choked up to speak and had to settle for mouthing it instead. Rather quickly, Keith's soft reassurances faded and she dropped off to sleep.

❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀

There was an annoying beeping sound that cut through her dreams, dragging Pidge back into the realm of consciousness. It was a strange, rhythmic sound – wholly different from the obnoxious screeching of her alarm clock. She groaned as she opened her eyes and had to squint against the sudden, harsh light that reflected off of crisp white sheets and plain white walls. The only spot of color near her was a single stem of purplish flowers that was placed in a water glass on the bedside table.

“Pidge?” an unfamiliar voice called her name, relief present in their tone.

Her head felt heavy as she turned it to face whoever was speaking to her. She figured it was a nurse or something – she had to be in a hospital of some kind – but instead, she found a young man with dark hair sitting in a chair at her bedside.

“You're awake!” he said, a smile blossoming across his face. “How do you feel?”

“M'okay,” she said thickly. She stared at him for a moment and watched as his smile faded. “Sorry, but who are you?”

He reeled back as though he'd been slapped, his expression dropping into something close to pure anguish. “I...” He paused and took a deep breath. “I'm Keith.”

[shoryubug]

Standing Up. Chapter 1: Alya

Starting this off with saying, first and foremost; please take it easy on me, this is my first fic since 2004...second; I have read a LOT of Miraculous salt, and honestly I am just really tired of Alya being made into a racist caricature in all saltfics that I read, and I wanted to do something that seemed believable. This is intended to be a oneshot with an open ending, but...it has the potential to become more if people want to see a real resolution. UPDATE: This work will be continued as a 10 part story, and can now also be found on AO3!

When it came to matters of the heart, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was not well versed, after all, she had just begun to learn what it was like to fall in love...and all of the intense feelings that came with it. Being new to the age of fourteen was strange in and of itself, but it had come with a lot of new hormones and feelings to process as a result of those hormones...and right now, she was feeling a lot of heartbreak...but living in a city with an emotional terrorist had given her certain limitations, and thus eradicated the ability for her to have a healthy way to get over the intensity of the heartbreak that she felt...so she turned to new, and very welcome distractions, such as throwing herself entirely into her hobby of designing, and planning out sketches for her future designs. 

It wasn’t much, but it was all that she felt comfortable with, it made her feel at ease from the pain of wondering if she had made the right choice when she confronted Hawkmoth at the end...many questions had lingered on her mind, should she have chosen Chloe over Kagami? Chloe was calling out to her...and the choice she had made...was it really pragmatic, or was she thinking with her heart instead of her head? Yes, Kagami had picked up on things rather quickly...but when she pondered it afterward, she couldn’t see anything aside from the mistake she’d made...if she had chosen Chloe, then they wouldn’t have had to face Miracle Queen...but the more she thought about it...facing Miracle Queen was the best possible outcome. She still would have forgotten to change back, due to Mayura’s distraction, and if Miracle Queen hadn’t acted like such a pompous brat, then Hawkmoth definitely would have kept all of the Miraculous for himself...and the more she thought about it like that, the more she felt that she had made the right choice...even if it was for the wrong reasons. 

A sigh played on palid pink lips before she picked her pencil up and began to absently sketch out a design that played on the newspaper trope that was seemingly both in and out of fashion. A part of her wished that she could put that kind of design into the fabrics of her choice, to give it a retro-vintage look, but another part of her was certain that anything that tied to the printing press was on it’s way out. Her mind was a blank void for the moment, before she stared at the home screen of her computer. A picture of Adrien Agreste standing there, she still had yet to change it, despite having taken down a lot of the fanfare that had previously adorned her walls. “Looks like I forgot something else…” she mumbled, before she felt a slight brush of wind, and a tap on her cheek. 

“Marinette! Don’t be so hard on yourself! Everyone can be forgetful!” Tikki’s charming voice rang out. A smile played on her lips for a brief moment before her soft gaze fluttered back to her computer screen and she began to search online for a picture that she knew existed somewhere, of Ladybug and Chat Noir sitting on a roof, gazing out at the city. She still wasn’t sure who had captured the photo, but it was one of her favorites, just a picture of her and Chat enjoying the moment. No flirting, no puns, no akumas...just patrolling the city in the pursuit of helping the citizens, and taking a pause for themselves afterward. 

“You’re right Tikki...but as you know, sometimes it can be really hard not to chastise myself.” Marinette stated, before she finally found the photo and set that as her background. “What do you think of this design by the way?” she asked, motioning down to the paper she was sketching on and tapping on a small section of the paper with the erasure of her pencil, highlighting it for her Kwami partner. 

“I think you should make it! It’d look really nice on anyone that wore it, and I know that’s important to you!” Tikki offered as Marinette’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “You really think so? I was just sketching but, if you really think I should!” her voice was full of joy. 

“Yeah! I can even help you like when you made the hat!” Tikki offered before Marinette scooped her up with both hands and placed a soft kiss to her Kwami’s forehead. 

“Thank you so much Tikki!” Marinette stated before setting the kwami back down on the desk. “Now it’s time I get to work!” she stated while giving off a joking macho pose. Reaching into her pocket she sent out a few texts to Juleka, Luka, and Rose, asking each of them if they wouldn’t mind measuring each other for sizes, so that she could work on a new project, and after about 10 minutes of waiting, all three had sent separate responses with answers to her question, and upon that, she set straight off to work. 

The process of making the jackets and shirts was a bit arduous, having to deal with puckered seams a bunch of the time, and becoming ultra friendly with a seam ripper, but after a while, she had finally perfected everything, and it had only taken one day and three afternoons, so for her it was record timing. Excitement filled the air as she sent texts off to Juleka, Rose, and Luka, asking if all three wouldn’t mind meeting her after school so that she could do a fitting for them, to perfect any issues in the clothing, and after that if they wouldn’t mind modeling the clothing out near Canal Saint Martin, so that she could play on the setting with the color tones of the clothing, offering each a box of macarons for their help, and to use the images on her new website. Rose and Juleka had answered with earnest, though Luka had yet to respond, but Marinette wasn’t too concerned, having believed he was just busy with his morning routine. 

As she had gone through school, everything was basically the same as usual, aside from the excited glances she kept shooting back at Juleka and Rose, anticipating the afternoon. 

“Girl, what’s up today, why do you keep looking back at Juleka and Rose, is something up with Kitty Section? Or is this about a certain boy in blue?” Alya teased before Marinette’s cheeks tinged pink. 

“Nothing’s up exactly...I just asked the two of them if they’d model a new outfit for me is all, and I’m really excited to get it all set up on my website!” Marinette practically sang, her heart entirely set upon her work. 

“Oh! You know what you need for that then? Adrien and Lila! They can totally help and give you some amazing tips to seem more professional!” Alya volunteered, which made Marinette sigh in irritation. 

“I’d really rather they didn’t come.” Marinette stated, which made Alya roll her eyes. 

“Look, you have to get over that he’s dating someone already, you can’t just pretend that you’re friends when you’re together but then avoid him for stuff like this that would actually help you!” Alya whisper-stated. 

“No Alya, and this isn’t even about that! Besides, I’m fine, and Adrien and I are friends, I’m not pretending anything!” Marinette hissed. 

“Then what, is it about your jealousy of Lila? She’s a model now girl, she really could help you!” Alya insisted, which made Marinette roll her eyes. The bell rang just at that moment, which was a godsend to Marinette. If she had to keep up with that conversation, she was going to scream. Scooping up her book-bag she slung it over her shoulder, reached into her pocket, and checked her texts. Finally, the message from Luka that she’d been waiting on! 

>>>Yeah sure Marinette that sounds fun, but you really don’t need to bring the macarons, your company is enough of a present. 

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she walked in a daze down the stairway, she wasn’t exactly in love with Luka, but he really did know how to make her feel light as air...but her mood was brought down the moment that she heard Alya’s loud voice in conversation with Lila and Adrien. 

“Yeah! Marinette’s doing it today, just ask her---” Alya was midway through the sentence before Marinette stomped over. 

“I already told you that I didn’t want them coming. This is private Alya, I didn’t even invite you so what makes you think that you can invite others on my behalf?!” she snapped. 

“Girl like I said you need to get over your jealousy--” 

“I’m not jealous! Why do you always have to make this about me being jealous!? What about this seems like jealousy?! I already have my models chosen, and since both Adrien and Lila are GABRIEL’S MUSES it would look bad on me to use either of them, for their help or for their modeling! I already told you I didn’t want them to come, but you came over and invited them anyway! Why won’t you just listen to me?! Do you want another Reflekdoll incident?! You didn’t even apologize to Juleka for that, you just left it all on me, and it wasn’t even my fault!” Marinette huffed, making motions with her hands the entire time, before finally turning her attention to both Adrien and Lila. “Look guys...I’m really sorry this isn’t about either of you, but I just wanted to spend some time concentrating on my own thing today and Alya really had no right to invite either of you. Everything is fitted to those three, and I’m doing final fitting checks for the new designs I made, it’s not even about you two, which Alya would have known if she’d have asked me first, or paid attention to when I said no!” her attention set back to Alya as both Lila and Adrien inched away slowly to get away from the splash zone of what they both perceived to be an obvious fight on the rise. 

“Th-that’s fine Marinette! I understand, and I’m sure Lila does too...I’m gonna go meet my bodyguard now!” Adrien stated, before practically sprinting off. 

“Marinette I don’t get it, why are you being so stubborn!? Is it really impossible to be friends with him now?” Alya begged. “I mean it’s weird enough having to plan around both of you being in the same place--” 

“Nobody asked you to do that Alya! Neither of us should be unincluded! I already said it a few times now, this wasn’t about Adrien or Lila or jealousy, this was about you stomping into my already set plans and trying to take over, like you always do! It isn’t fair! Not to me, not to the people I make these plans with, not to anyone!” 

“This really can’t be on me. I mean, there’s obviously something deeper--” 

“No! There isn’t! Now would you stop making it a habit of stomping in on my plans and taking over!? Because I really have to go and I don’t want to keep having this conversation with you!” Marinette shot before slapping a hand to her face and huffing. “Look...we should really talk about this later, but right now...I have plans that I intend to follow through on…” and with that, Marinette took leave of the school, of Alya, and away from all of the weird looks she was getting. Her mood was clearly shot, but she wasn’t going to let that ruin the designs that she had spent days pouring her heart and soul into, or the fun she still intended to have with the Rose, Juleka, and Luka.

[birdwonder]

Hey, I was just wondering could you do a Phantom Blood Dio x female reader where they sneak around everyone's backs to be together and pretend they don't get along when with others? Thank you and have a wonderful day.

|| Love the request ! This is going to be set before Dio puts on the stone mask and George’s death, but both he, Joseph and the reader are young adults.

Phantom Blood Dio | Behind Closed Doors

“Come now, Dio, certainly Lady [L/N] isn’t as irksome as you claim her to be,” the calm yet mildly concerned voice of George Joestar spoke, a heavy sigh following his speech as the stubborn frown upon Dio Brando’s lips refused to falter or leave.

The blond crossed his arms tightly around his chest, refusing to directly face the man that he had taken in him despite his need to show him the upmost respect.  “I have told you repeatedly father, that ... impudent girl has no tact nor manners to her high end name! She is a thorn in my side no matter how pretty her petals may be.” He spoke with such disdain and venom in his voice that he would believe the older man to be brain dead to not understand how he felt about you.

The ageing father of both Joseph Joestar and Dio Brando pinched the bridge of his nose slightly, a hand gripping his cane as he tried to recall exactly when the feud between [F/N] and Dio had came to be. 

“But father! I don’t want to be betrothed to some girl I’ve never met,” a younger, yet still just as well mannered as now, Dio complained, internally retching at the idea that George was attempting to have him marry some unacquainted, noble child who was probably as juvenile and pretentious as all the other high standing  sons and daughters he had met through his adopted father’s parties.

“Dio I am only doing this so that finding someone to wed won’t be a concern in the future,” his father attempted to explain, placing a gentle hand on the teenager’s shoulder, “you have shown no interest in any other young females that you have met, or in finding someone to love at all!”

With a huff, Dio continued to desperately convey why an arranged marriage was out of the question, “what if I wholeheartedly dislike her, hm? What if she talks too loud or flirts with other men behind my back or doesn’t even like me?”

“None of which will happen, Dio. Lady [F/N] is a polite, upstanding girl who is always happy to greet me when I visit her family’s home. Imagine coming home from work to a beautiful, welcoming smile? I’m sure that’s any man’s dream.” 

The blond quietly scoffed, as to not insult his father directly, and refused to listen to any more reasoning. George did nothing to pester him further however, a bright smile on his mouth as he gestured towards the door of their home where a butler was approaching and starting to open. “No matter, she should be here now! Look smart now, Dio, and do try to smile a little.”

Dio was not ready to be meeting her right now. Or at any point in time for that matter, but especially not now. With slightly widened, golden eyes he glanced over to see that the doors were now open and two figures were entering. A woman who was definitely close to George’s age, if not a few years younger, and a man around the same age too, both dressed as fine as aristocrats as if they were attending a meeting with the queen. ‘Rich people. Too much money for their own good,’ Dio thought, looking the presumed couple with a hidden disgust. 

“Ah, if it isn’t the great [L/N]’s! Looking as dashing as ever,” George greeted with open arms, only to then shake the man’s hand with a hearty laugh and ‘good day’ , afterwards politely kissing the woman’s gloved hand. 

“I’m sorry if we have kept you long, our little flower was a little difficult to convince to come, I think it’s just a young woman’s time where she’s too bashful to talk to a man face to face,” the woman joked, a light-hearted look and sound to her as she side stepped from her husband, hands moved to gently push a third person in front of her.

There, stood in a neutral pink frock, was a fairly beautiful girl, hair pinned, neatly teased and brushed back to be styled into a perfect bun, with the small  exception of a few strands purposefully let loose to carefully frame the delicate face of a young lady. Her eyes seemed to travel anywhere but somebody’s face, as her hands laced in front of her fiddled tenuously. 

Even with an averted gaze, Dio could tell that her eyes had a pretty look to them, though he couldn’t tell if it was the colour or how long her lashes were, or if it was even something as trivial as her eye shape altogether. No. It couldn’t be any of it! She was just some girl, nothing about her was special at all!

“This is [F/N], our little diamond girl, she is so enthusiastic to be meeting your son, Dio. I can already tell the two of them will be make for a great pair!” The man introduced, something Dio was quick to disagree with in his head. He hadn’t so much as made eye contact with the girl yet and they assume they would be perfect, how stupid.

After some encouraging from her parents to say hello, she finally looked directly at the other teenager, eyes scanning him from his shoes all to way to the top of his head. It made him feel a little awkward. It was like she was judging him in her head, or analysing every detail of him, while most women he knew just threw themselves at him in an instant. 

“He’s nothing special. I don’t see why I have to marry him,” she finally said, monotone and blunt, eyes dull and general expression no different. Dio almost choked in response, gawking momentarily at your words.

“Young lady! You should not speak about your future husband in such a manner,” her father scolded while the mother gasped and looked down at her with disappointment.

Similar to Dio’s attitude earlier, [F/N] huffed and continued to speak tersely, “future husband or no, he’s just some child. I don’t even want to be here!” 

Something in her had seemed to snap as in the next second, she had spun on her heel and made a bee-line for the front door, dashing outside to who knows where.

Instantly, both of the parents began to apologise on behalf of their daughter, even bowing their heads in shame to which George reassured them that it was no problem. Dio was only standing there, staring at the ghost of where the girl once was near the door and hummed to himself with thought. It didn’t take him long to ponder over his decision since he quickly knew that he wanted to find out what could possibly drive a woman to not only go against her own parents, but a man too, something that was frowned upon by everyone.

“It’s alright, I’m sure it is just the nerves,” Dio added in, sending the three elders a warm yet faux smile before he started to head out the door. “I’ll go find her and talk to her! After all,” he paused at the entrance, turning his head with a closed eyes, “is it not a husband’s duty to support his wife?”

That was as much as George was able to remember of your first meeting, never truly understanding what had brought upon your reaction unlike Dio, who knew a lot more than what he did.

After five minutes maximum of searching, Dio had finally spotted a pink blob in the distance and knew it could only be you. You were under a tree, knees hugged to your chest which caused you skirt to ride up slightly and crease in the most un-lady like fashion, head buried into your arms as small sobs came from your balled up figure.

Now Dio wasn’t the best at comfort. In fact, he hadn’t been able to recall a single moment where he had tried to ease anyone side from his crying mother once upon a time. Nonetheless, he knew that if he couldn’t get to you, he’d never find out what brought one such a display earlier.

“Oi, woman. Stop your crying,” he demanded, realising a little too late that wasn’t exactly the most or at all comforting thing to say, but it did cause you to raise your head and look at him with watery eyes and tear stained cheeks. A pitiful show, and still Dio thought of it as an oddly precious look. He’ll just pretend that’s the pity talking.

“What...What do you want? If you’ve come to convince me to marry you, forget it! I won’t marry a man I don’t love, know or need, ever!” You yelled, unafraid of the consequences that would come from being a woman with such an outspoken voice. 

Clicking his tongue against his cheek to make a ‘tsk’ sound, Dio placed his hands onto his hips and looked down at you with a stoic expression. “Who said I wanted to marry you, girl? I’m only here because your parents are causing an unnecessary ruckus and I’m here to understand why you’re being so damn difficult.” 

You blinked up at him. A tear rolling down because of your fluttering lashes, even if you were no longer crying. Sighing, you gazed ahead of you at a serene scenery that captivated you well enough to soothe your inner troubles. A lake weaved before you, water glistening underneath a setting sun which was slowly painting the sky different hues of pinks, oranges and yellows; even a purple was blended in somewhere in the mix. It was so beautiful, and all you could really come back to was the issue at hand. 

“I... Don’t take this personally, Dio was it?” You checked, to which he affirmed by nodding once, “I don’t hate you directly, and it’s not that I loathe my parents either. It’s just that I don’t want to live the rest of my life under another man’s roof who I hardly know, and love, while being expected to sit around all day until he comes home so that we can try to have a child I probably won’t care for because all I’ll see is the product of an unhappy life.” Your longwinded rant paused briefly, as you inhaled quickly to continue.

“I want to live on my own! Under my own rules and start my own business where I can provide for myself and work hard for what I need and want, not have it boringly handed to me on a silver platter.” 

After you were done, Dio blinked a few times in amazement. Were you really telling him all this? Something so controversial and so strangely endearing? Fascinating. He was actually quite hooked on your story, and understood where you were coming from. Dio would feel identically to you had he been in your position.

“I see. Well, there’s only one way to go about this then.” He piped up, kneeling down beside you with slight cringe as he sort of wanted to avoid dirtying his trousers. Giving him a curious look, you tilted you head to ask ‘how’ when he suddenly placed a hand on your cheek. 

“From now on, we’ll show those stupid old people that we have no other relationship than one filled with hate, and if we’re successful enough then they’ll have to release us of our burden to marry.” His plan sounded fool proof, at least it did when he said it in such a confident and certain way, though you still had doubts. 

“What if they get angry and disown us? Or worse...” You trailed off, cringing at the harsh hands that could come into play if things went south.

“Then you’ll just have to be Mrs Brando and live only to bear my children,” he returned, smirking in a way that reminded you of a smug cat that had caught the canary. Shuddering, you shook your head. 

“No, that sound horrible!”

“Oh? Does [F/N] Brando not have a ring to it? I think it’s quite fitting.”

“Don’t joke like that!”

The memory faded there as the rest wasn’t important to Dio. From that day, for at least two years the two of you have yelled, bickered, insulted, chastised, teased and even lightly hit each other to send across the message that there was no romantic interest between you and still, the both of you were pressured into marrying. It was like the message wasn’t going through their thick skulls!

Some things had changed since then as well. The two of you had slowly grown closer, away from your parents’ eyes of course, and even found comfort in each other’s company. Dio had somehow ended up confessing his backstory to you and his dislike for Jonathan, in which you assured him that he wasn’t any less of a man for coming from a poor family, and you had even given him a comforting kiss on the cheek. The rest of your time together was in embarrassing silence, mainly for Dio as you were contently resting your head on  his shoulder after you had teased his denied blush,

Honestly, even some of your fake arguments were like flirting, but just ten times more attractive and it made Dio genuinely want to see you again every time you left.

Snapping back into reality, Dio realised that George had resumed conversing with him and to his luck, it was to remind him that you would be shortly arriving for another one of your ‘arranged dates.’ 

Acting disgusted, the trickster scowled. “Does she have to come? She’s better off a thousand feet from me and then some.” 

“Dio, please. It’s been years, surely you have warmed up to her enough to at least not talk about her in that way!” George scolded, raising his cane to gently tap his son’s head with it. 

“You could stretch my life span to an infinite amount of years, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

No more was said then as a butler had entered the room, announcing your arrival in which you entered on cue, cold as ever and not even greeting your supposed fiancé, just a ‘hello’ to George who sighed and greeted you in return, shortly excusing himself to his study to leave you two to do your own thing, expecting the both of you to carry out your arranged date though he doubted it.

As soon as he was gone, you smiled at Dio and giggled, slowly walking up to him once the door was closed by the exiting butler. “My, Mr Brando, don’t you look god awful today,” you noted, a joking flirt in your tone as you hooded your eyes and pinched your skirt to raise it a little.

Dio had managed to both scoff and smirk at the same time as he slightly opened his arms out, allowing you to approach him ever closer and press your blouse covered chest against his broader one, one hand slowly mimicking a walking motion up from his chest to his neck so you could wrap your arms around him. “Not as wretched and hideous as you, Mrs Brando. Did you just roll out of a sewer or is this your usual afternoon attire?” He teased, loosely holding your waist and staring down into the eyes that he had noticed so well when you first met. Still as perfect as ever. 

“Oh love, you know all of this is for you. If you’re good, I’ll let you see what’s under all this sewer gunk,” the purr in your tone and the feeling of your breasts pressing onto him made his mouth dry and you only laughed at his reaction to your unabashed tease. “I’m only joking, Dio, I can’t very well go sleeping with you just yet if I want to prove to my family I can be independent!”

He cleared his throat slightly and nodded with agreement, “of course, of course, we can do no such thing,” he recited, coquettishly grinning at you before he repeated one of your words, “yet.”

You gasped and stuttered, slapping his arm gently. “Oh hush! You know what I was going for.” You really didn’t know where your relationship with Dio was heading, if the two of you really were going to marry due to your parents or your own free will, or if it would all be over once you had your business plan approved, but you made an effort enjoy what strange intimacy you had now. 

“Do I, love? Perhaps you should explain it to me in further detail,” he hummed, moving his head down a little to brush his nose against your own. 

“No! Now be quiet, shouldn’t you be taking me somewhere?” You reminded, quickly changing the subject and taking a step back. Tittering, Dio starved for the feeling of you against him once more, moving to walk beside you with a hand on your lower back, guiding you to the door. It was arranged that he would take you to a restaurant in a carriage and spend until the evening at least socialising and perhaps touring the town. You both knew that you could actually talk until tomorrow’s sunrise, but for the sake of the message you wanted to send, it was better to cut it off sooner than that.

The two of you continued to silently banter all the way to the carriage.

Dio, in all his years, had never been more happier to spend time with a woman, as sharp tongued and stubborn as you were. He knew that once he had gotten rid of George and Jonathan Joestar, that he would appoint you head of his household and name you his wife and let you do as you wish, provided you swear to love him until death do you part.

[salt-warrior]

WHEN EARTH TURNS TO ASHES

Masterlist

Chapter Nine: The Girl With Too Many Secrets

A single backpack was all it took to carry everything of Selene's old life. It carried all the money from her bank account, which wasn't much; the only letter her mother had ever written her; some clothes; a picture of Selene and some distant family she couldn't remember; her small braided bracelet; and some tools in the hopes of gaining a job as a mechanic. Everything else she didn't want.

She left no note. She told no one of her leaving. She would have bet money that they wouldn't even figure out her absence for a couple days. Her disappearance would be a blessing they would probably thank her for.

No one would miss her. Not Adri. Not Pearl. Not Garan. Not Cress. Not anyone from school. Not her teachers. Not even Kinney. Everyone would move on with their lives— forget her and her pitiful existence. But she would never be able to escape them, not really; just like how she couldn't escape her own mother. Their words would graffiti her mind, reminding her of all her faults and how she could never truly be loved.

You did a terrible thing. You killed Peony, and you're going to pay for it.

Hadn't she already paid? The pain of grief was enough to kill her. The knowledge of what she had done was the worst torture.

When we're done with the, you'll be nothing but dust and ashes and cinders.

How can you destroy something that has nothing left to demolish? How can you wound something that's already dead inside?

You deserve this, Selene. You deserve the darkest and most fiery places of hades domain.

She already lived in Hell, so what difference would it make?

You're a freak; a sociopath. Do you even know what love is?

How could one know love if they have never received any?

I don't even know why you stay here. No one wants you.

Monsters were always unwanted, that was why they were chased away with pitchforks and fire. But what did you do when you yourself was an uncontrollable monster?

Selene shook herself, trying to chase away their words, but she knew that they would stick with her forever. They were what made her the broken girl she was just as much as her name. Echoes of anger and sorrow would forever call throughout her mind and in her nightmarish dreams of what Hell was supposed to look like.

Acceptance would be the path of least resistance in Selene's case.

Towns flashed by as Selene's bus moved at high speeds. The original plan was for her to move to Portland, but she knew that it was too close— too familiar. She had lived with two different Foster Families in Oregon, and someone might remember her. She couldn't let anyone know her name.

In the end, her going to Colorado was something of a lucky chance. She'd never been in living memory, though she knew that it was her birthplace. She hoped that no one would know her.

Slinging the backpack over her shoulders, Selene had no regrets— save for one. She wished she had been able to save Peony; Ran as well. They were the misfortunes that followed her, and now that she knew where Selene was, she had to leave once and for all and never come back. No one could ever again know where Selene Linh was; it was too dangerous.

That was one of the reasons why Selene was going to disappear forever.

Cinder Linh, on the other hand, was not wanted by anyone. She was the fresh start that Selene needed. She was a new opportunity, a phoenix rising from the ashes of her catastrophic past.

Selene would never say her name aloud again, for it was a curse that only destroyed everything that she loved. Her name was a brand, and with her new name, she would finally be set free.

***

Kai's hands fluttered nervously as he rapped on Cress Darnel's apartment door, knocking more times than he would have normally. He was anxious for this meeting, seeing how it would determine the exact amount he would discover about Selene before she woke up.

Thorne had called Kai the night before, telling him that Selene was still asleep, but due to wake up at any time. Thorne had then gone on and on in wondering aloud how the hospital could afford such models. Kai half suspected that Thorne was enjoying his time at the hospital more than he was letting on, getting to see Nainsi and Iko and the other nurses at all hours of the day.

The door opened after only a few moments, its fading red paint with the number 4B swinging wide to show a petite girl. She had short, wavy blonde hair and eyes the color of a California sea. Her wrists were covered in an assortment of threaded bracelets, and a pencil tucked behind her ear. She wore a frown, though it seemed to be more out of questioning than annoyance.

"Hello," Kai began, smiling brightly. "My name is Kaito Crown, and I'm here on behalf of Selene Linh. I was told that you might be able to provide some information on her."

Cress' jaw dropped in shock. Her eyes had gone wide and her hands gripped the door until all the color was flushed out of them. She looked as though she had seen a ghost. Kai wondered if maybe he shouldn't have been so forward. "You see," Kai continued, wringing his hands together. He was desperate, but he tried to conceal it as much as possible. "Selene–"

"What happened to her?" Cress cut through Kai's words with a flurry of panic born from shock. "Is she okay? Is she still alive? Where is Selene?" Cress moved forward, standing on her toes and biting her lip around the words. Her expression held many things that Kai hadn't expected to see: guilt, sorrow, and something else that Kai couldn't decipher.

Kai raised his hands in surrender of her deluge of questions. "I– I don't know much, um, Cress. I just... do you mind if we sit down and I tell you everything?" Cress nodded and led Kai inside to a small living area. He sat down on a loveseat, wiping his balmy hands against his jeans as Cress rested herself anxiously in the straight-backed chair across from him.

"Selene Linh," Kai exhaled bracingly. His nerves were anxious and twittering with adrenaline. He didn't want to tell Cress Darnel about the tragedy that had happened to her once-best-friend; not when she was staring at him with her huge, innocent blue eyes tinged with worry. He wanted information, not to be the bearer of bad news, even if Selene was alive.

The real question was: why hadn't Selene kept in contact with anyone? Was it simply a way to protect herself from those who had treated her unkindly, or was there something more? What if she had run away to hide and never be found rather than to simply escape?

"She got in an accident." Kai watched as Cress began to shake, gripping the arms of her chair. "She– She's okay, or at least she will be, but it was bad."

An empty, painful silence filled the room. The light seemed to make Cress's eyes shine brighter than normal, or maybe it was related to the way her lips were quivering. Kai waited for her to say something, but a sort of devastation appeared to be keeping her mute.

"I need to know what was happening to Selene before she ran away. I want to understand her, and you're the only person I have left. Please, please help me." Kai clasped his hands in front of him, sitting forward in his chair and waited.

Cress cleared her throat, biting her lip anxiously. "Selene was a girl with too many secrets. She told me some of them, but... I don't know the whole story. Selene always had a darkness about her— almost as if her shadow was a living being there to torture her forever."

A shiver ran down Kai's spine at her words. Kai had sensed that sort of energy on Selene when he had found her in the burning remains of her car. She had the nature of an avenging angel from Hell, both dark and beautiful and terribly misunderstood.

"Selene always told everyone that her mother was in prison, arrested for drugs and whatnot. Even on her records that's what is put down. But it's not true." Cress's skin shone pale in the dark house. Fear etched across her face like an ugly scar, striking terror into Kai's bones.

Cress glanced around, her breathing heavy. Kai could tell she was preparing to divulge an awful truth. "Her mother–"

Kai's phone rang, causing the couple to jump, and Cress to let out a little yelp. Kai pressed a hand to his heart to steady it, preparing to reject the call before he saw the name.

Thorne.

That could only mean one thing. Something had happened with Selene.

"I'm so sorry, Cress, but I have to take this." Kai stood, all thoughts of Selene's past forgotten. Cress sagged in her seat, part from relief and something else that Kai couldn't quite dissect. She didn't even say anything as Kai cupped the phone to his ear and left the room.

"Thorne," Kai said eagerly, stalking to the door. "What happened? Is she–"

"Yeah, Sel– Ow! Would you stop that?" Thorne exclaimed, leaving Kai to wonder what was happening on the other end of the phone. Was Iko beating Thorne with a tongue depressor, or was Selene a fighter?

Muffled talking continued in the background, and Kai heard the voice of a girl and a defensive Thorne. He better not have tried flirting with her the second she awoke, Kai thought.

Thorne came back on the phone, his voice half agitated and half amused. "The girl, she's awake." Thorne huffed. "And I've got to admit, I much preferred her asleep."

[inspired-by-the-music]

For You: 4 O’Clock

Chapter 3: Secrecy

Taglist: @jineunwootrash

I walked downstairs with the reasons why I shouldn’t be required to attend Donghae’s birthday party pressed on the tip of my tongue. 

The Reasons: 

I saw Donghae so often that seeing him for a split second at a work party (where he would dash from guest to guest) seemed kind of ridiculous

SuperM was setting out on a world tour at daybreak, and I couldn’t afford to lose hours of sleep. My face was already swollen, drowsy from staying up all night playing Truth or Dare with the guys. 

I was still working on the third reason, but it would probably be something along the lines of “What’s the point in going to a birthday party if I can’t even eat cake because of this stupid diet?”

I didn’t get to voice any of my reasons to convince Mom to let me stay home, though, because I dropped my jaw on the floor when I found her sitting on the living room couch. She was still wearing the red tracksuit she wore when she drove me home from the campsite. She wore a pale green clay mask. 

“What are you doing?” I checked my phone because if Mom was laying around, I must have been mistaken about the time. Nope, the screen said, I was right. “Donghae’s party starts in 30 minutes.” 

She joked, “Oh, you don’t like my outfit?” before registering my unamused expression. “I’m not going, Lei. I’m sick.” She forced the least convincing fake laugh of all time, and I rolled my eyes. How gullible did she think I was? 

“Fine.” I plopped down onto the couch next to her, saying, “Then I’m sick, too.” I didn’t go so far as to fake a cough, but I doubt she would have been convinced even if I had been truly unwell. 

“Oh, no.” Mom kicked me off of the couch with her (mismatched) socked feet. “You used your fake flu excuse to get out of ‘Knowing Bros’—” 

My entire body cringed at the mention of Heechul’s variety show. I loved Heechul, but that show— with great effort, I had managed to have a successful career without appearing on a single episode, and I planned to keep it that way. 

“You need to go to Donghae’s party, anyway.” Mom lectured with facts I already knew well: “He’s never been anything but kind to you, so grab his present off the kitchen table. There’s a car outside waiting for you.”

Just to be clear: I wasn’t trying to weasel out of going to the party because I didn’t want to see Donghae or celebrate his birthday. I never would have said this out loud for fear of sounding like a total freak, but I really, really hated work parties. Although the atmosphere was always uncomfortably formal, even for birthday parties, boys (namely, Sehun) tried to blur the lines in strictly professional relationships. 

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so bothered. Maybe I should have tried to understand that they were grasping at romance the only ways they could— even if it was a fake, pseudo-romance explored in the shadows of an S.M. banquet hall. But I was bothered, and I didn’t understand, and I didn’t want to go.

And, more pressingly, I didn’t want to see Taemin again. Except I did. Just not so soon, and not before I could figure out how to thank him for his jacket. Not before I understood why I wanted him to smile (the real smile) at me. Not before I understood why he wanted my ribbon. 

Wanting to avoid Taemin wasn’t just cowardly; it was impractical, considering that I would have to see him every day for the next few months on our North American tour. I would have to face him sooner or later, talk to him sooner or later, and there was no point in delaying our next conversation. 

I opened my mouth to complain— or least to ask how I was supposed to get home after the party— but Mom had turned her attention back to the paperwork in her lap. Maybe she was genuinely too busy to go to the party, even though it was for work, even though it was hosted on Donghae’s behalf. I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to ask if she was still avoiding Donghae. 

I felt like the longer I stayed with her, the likelier I was to ask if she was the idol who never debuted. I didn’t see what good could come from asking, so I ran out of the room, grabbed the small wrapped gift from the table, and crawled into the back seat of the company car in the driveway. 

“Damn, Lei,” Lucas whistled when he found me in the corner of the banquet hall where the light didn’t quite reach. “You look good!”

When he tried to pull me into a hug, I swatted him away. “This is why we have dating rumors, Lucas,” I scolded, knowing that he would shrug my concerns away while laughing. 

Lucas’s eternal smile broadened as he teased, “If anyone figures out where Taemin got his bracelet, your dating rumors won’t center around me anymore.”

The only comfort was knowing that even if my blush broke through my makeup, Lucas wouldn’t have been able to see it in the dim lighting. “Stop saying that. There’s nothing like that there.” 

“That’s what you keep saying.” Lucas raised a disposable red cup to his lips, so his next words were muffled. “But that dimple in your chin— the one that only deepens when you lie— says otherwise.”

Cupping a hand over my chin, I hissed, “There is no dimple!” 

Lucas laughed at my reaction, and I realized that he was just messing with me. While these dating rumors were my greatest source of stress, they were just another thing for him to laugh about. I never wanted to be the reason Lucas’s laughter died, so I had to learn to play along. 

This was the issue: Lucas understood my point of view; he just didn’t share it, and I couldn’t force him to. 

Once he realized that I couldn’t force laughter, Lucas tried to get our conversation back on track. “Anyway, you called me over here to talk about Mom and Donghae. Does that mean there are updates?”

I shrugged and shuffled closer to him so I didn’t have to speak louder than absolutely necessary. “I still don’t know why she’s avoiding Donghae, but she didn’t come to the party—”

My attempts at secrecy were thwarted when Lucas repeated, loudly, “She didn’t come to the party?” He clamped a hand over his mouth when I cut my eyes at him. As he should have in the first place, he whispered, “She didn’t come to the party?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, tucking behind my ear a curl that had escaped my bun. “She even faked some kind of illness. She did one of those lame coughs—” Lucas hacked frailly into the sleeve of his shirt— “Yeah, exactly like that. She’s definitely not sick.”

Lucas’s brow furrowed so tightly that I imagined steam might blow out of his ears from over-exerting his brain. “But why? What could Donghae have done?”

Before I could say that I had no idea, a voice spoke from the deeper shadows, “I can find out if you want.” Sehun stepped into the light. 

As I rolled my eyes at the sight of him— the second to last person I wanted to see that evening— Lucas snorted into his drink. 

“What do you say, Lei?” Like a character from a movie— some kind of spy film whose plot I couldn’t quite follow no matter how hard I focused— Sehun offered his hand to me. “I’m close to Donghae. I can ask him what’s going on with him and Momager if you really want to know.” 

I shook my head at the offer. Dropping his hand to his side, sure to slap it against his black dress pants, Sehun drew his eyebrows together curiously as if to ask, “Why do you always reject me?” The words didn’t have to leave his mouth; he asked them frequently enough while making that face— brows arched more than usual, lips pressed in a thin line— that I knew when they were blaring in his mind. 

Unable to bear the silent exchange, Lucas tried to explain to Sehun, “She doesn’t want to owe you any favors, dude.” 

I know it sounds cynical, but Lucas was right. Nobody liked to admit it, but in the entertainment industry, nobody does anything for the sake of accomplishing a good deed. Everybody is always looking to get ahead somehow, usually by performing these little favors, and I never wanted to be involved in anything like that— especially not with boys (like Sehun) who only wanted to see how close I would get to dating them. 

Sehun rolled his eyes at my cynicism like he always did. “How do you know that I’m not offering out of the goodness of my heart, Lei? You know I would do almost anything to make my fans happy.” He smiled at me, and my heart might have fluttered if I harbored the slightest budding feelings for him. As it was, my glare hardened, and I wanted to slap Baekhyun for telling Sehun that he was my bias. 

Shaking my head, I brushed past Sehun to find Donghae. I thought that after wishing him a happy birthday in person, I could have justified leaving the party early.

I wasn’t surprised (just disappointed) that Sehun trailed closely behind, asking, “Why am I your bias, anyway, if you dislike me this much? Is it because of my visuals? That’s it, right? I’m the most handsome guy you’ve ever seen.” 

“As a matter of fact,” I rounded on Sehun, frustrated that he grinned at the attention as he held his hands up in mock surrender, “it’s your eyebrows. I like your eyebrows.”

“Oh.” Sehun laughed, leaning against a nearby table. “So this is what we’re doing? We’re listing what we like about each other?”

“No,” I said sternly. 

I knew that the more I resisted, the more he would pursue me. This was a game. I hated it, and I hated that my natural temperament made it drag on forever. 

“I don’t dislike you, Sehun, but when you act like this—”

“Like what?” He smirked. “Like the man of your dreams?”

“Like the total opposite,” I replied maybe a little too harshly. The festivities around us died down as some guests tried to listen to our conversation and even more relocated to carry on joyfully without having to hear us. 

I always felt bad at this part— when I snapped because I felt cornered, and Sehun stood still, staring at the ground like I had drawn blood. If I hurt him, then why did he keep flirting me? If this wasn’t a game, wouldn’t he get tired of rejection? 

If it was a game, it wasn’t fun for me. I didn’t like rejecting Sehun, and I didn’t like that I had to avoid him at events like this, but the fact remained: I wasn’t interested in him like that. I didn’t know how else to tell him. I didn’t like that he made me into this villain— or, worse, this unattainable ideal— just because it made me more interesting to him. 

I wasn’t something to chase: I was a person. Why couldn’t he understand that? Did I really have to explain it to him? 

Sehun met my eyes when he said, “I won’t give up,” for the thousandth time. 

I started to beg him to give up— or to at least stop blurring the lines between fantasy and reality— or to at least outright say that he liked me if that was the problem— but I didn’t get the chance. Donghae, Heechul, and Baekhyun crowded around the table, so I swallowed my concerns. 

“Wait a minute.” Heechul’s gaze flickered between me and Sehun. Dimples formed in his cheeks. “This isn’t the boy I usually see you with, Lei!”

Baekhyun laughed. Nudging Heechul, and, cupping around his mouth as if he was divulging a secret, Baekhyun explained, “This is another one of Lei’s suitors. Apparently she and Lucas are ‘just friends,’ much to the fans’ disappointment, and Sehun is ‘just her bias,’ much to Sehun’s disappointment.”

Sehun and I, at least, were united in the simultaneous rolling of our eyes as Baekhyun and Heechul cackled together. 

Sehun promised, “I’ll text you later, Lei,” and stalked away without responding to Baekhyun’s and Heechul’s harmonizing whistles. 

Donghae, who had been shifting uncomfortably since arriving at the table, asked the dreaded question, “Where’s your mom?” while Baekhyun and Heechul were too busy harassing Sehun to notice. 

Whatever he had done to upset Mom must have been an unwitting accident; Donghae smiled at the mere mention of her. For a second— a split second— I hated Mom for sending me into this situation where I had to break Donghae’s smile by answering, “She’s not here. She, um, isn’t feeling well.” 

“What?” Donghae, Heechul, and Baekhyun asked in unison. 

Heechul slipped away from the conversation without arousing Donghae’s or Baekhyun’s attention; their wide eyes were too focused on me to notice anything else. I wondered how mad Heechul would be when he drove to my house just to find Mom sitting (perfectly healthy) on the couch, probably watching episodes of their drama without him. 

“She’s not feeling well?” Donghae repeated. Tiny dimples formed in his chin as he realized, frowning, “She’s never missed one of my parties before. This one year, she came even though she had the flu, and I had to beg her to go home!”

“It’s very unlike her to miss a work event.” The sadness in Baekhyun’s voice was so exaggerated that I met his gaze anxiously. What was he up to? Mock concern flooded his eyes as he said, “She must be really sick, huh, Lei? Coughing and everything?”

Oh. I realized when the corner of Baekhyun’s lips twitched upward that he overheard my conversation with Lucas. I guess he had already proven through his successful kidnapping plot that he could keep his big mouth shut when he needed too; now, he proved it again by quietly eavesdropping on me and Lucas and using his knowledge to make me squirm. 

Note: Baekhyun was dangerous not just because he was cute. He was also sneaky. 

Unsure of how to maintain Mom’s lie when Baekhyun knew the truth, I nodded subtly. 

“It’s so weird how health can take such sudden turns for the worst.” Baekhyun shook his head and pounded his fist on the metallic navy blue table cloth. “Momager seemed fine when I talked to her earlier—” he paused to stage a dramatic gasp before asking, “You don’t think we’ll have to postpone the tour, do you? If Momager is sick, how can we leave first thing tomorrow morning?”

“Tomorrow morning?” Donghae’s eyes rounded as they looked to me for confirmation. “You’re leaving on tour tomorrow?”

I nodded, and I would have apologized to Donghae— even though I couldn’t explain why I was sorry— but Baekhyun interrupted by asking, “You don’t think she’s faking, do you? Do you think she had a hot date or something?”

Donghae gasped, “What?”

Glaring at Baekhyun, I answered through gritted teeth, “My mother would never prioritize any date over her work obligations.”

I didn’t expect Donghae to react by dropping his gaze somewhere on the table and wheezing, “I’m more than a work obligation, right?” 

“Yes, of course, absolutely,” I wanted to tell him. “You’re so important to us— to me and to Mom. You are a member of the first group she helped debuted, and you have been such a fixture in our life, and you’ve never been anything but kind and—”

Oh. My stomach tied in knots as I understood why Mom didn’t want to come to the party. The knots tightened as I realized how similar Mom and I were. Neither of us wanted to worry about anything other than performing our jobs well. Neither of us knew how to respond when somebody tried to cross that line between colleague and— I don’t know— boyfriend, so we always ran away. 

Oh. My heart sank as I wondered if I ever made Sehun frown the way Mom made Donghae frown with her mere absence. I doubted it, but the thought was still sickening. Maybe— maybe Mom thought that Donghae wouldn’t notice her absence among all the other party guests, but that misunderstanding didn’t lessen his very real disappointment right before my eyes. Maybe— maybe you don’t have to try to break a heart. 

Baekhyun must have been oblivious to mine and Donghae’s shared discomfort. He rattled on, “Maybe Momager isn’t as virtuous as you, Lei.” Although Donghae and I bore into him with our glares, Baekhyun suggested, lips pressed out in a tiny pout, “Maybe she’s more like the idol who never debuted.”

“This again?” I set my jaw and narrowed my eyes at the ceiling before telling Baekhyun, “I don’t know why you’re so hell-bent on believing that my mom is some failed trainee, and I don’t know why you’re stupid or cruel enough to keep saying it right in front of me, but you’re really pissing me off.” 

Storming out of the party after yelling at my leader the night before our world tour was probably the worst thing I had done in my entire career. I knew that even as my pulse sounded angrily in my ears, but I was too angry to swallow my pride and apologize to Baekhyun. 

Maybe I thought that the cool Autumn air outside would soothe my temper and enable me to do what would encourage a peaceful tour with SuperM. Maybe I knew that I wouldn’t return to the party no matter how many hours I wasted under the stars, trying to throw away the feelings I couldn’t express. 

Whatever I thought would come from running from my explosive emotions, I didn’t expect Donghae to find me. I didn’t expect him to say, wearing the same gentle smile as always (as if he hadn’t been frowning just moments before), “Come on. I’ll drive you home if you really don’t want to be here.” 

I stared at him, unable to blink, because those were exactly the words Taemin said by the lake last night before untying my wrists. I stared at him because I was trying to map the similarities between Donghae and Taemin. I couldn’t quite articulate it, but the same thing that made Donghae’s eyes tender made Taemin’s smile brilliant. What was it about them that I couldn’t understand— that I wanted to understand?

Had I been thinking clearly, I might have been able to understand. I might have considered that Mom probably didn’t want Donghae near our house; then, I wouldn’t have accepted his offer to drive me home. 

Often, I wonder what would have happened if Donghae hadn’t forced his way past Heechul into the house. I wonder if the truth would have come out some other day— some other way— instead. I wonder if events played out as they should have. I wonder what I could have done differently.

[seuljin]

JockRyujin x ChoirLia!

Anonymous asked: “okay so a random anon had answered on my behalf for that ryujisu prompt HAHAHAH but anyway I’m a sucker for school scenarios! so why not jock!ryu who’s actually smart and choir girl jisu (yes we luv opp attracts) heh they’ve been project mates for months now and feelings blossomed. so ryu asks jisu out on a first date! you can add anon’s idea into it too! ❤️❤️”

Warnings: None

Requested by: Anonymous 

Lia had been staying after school for practice with her choir. They had to work on their hardest song on the year, and Lia, being the most skilled, wanted to make sure everyone knew all of the tips and tricks. 

Needless to say, Lia was a bit shy. She had amazing grades and a good reputation. No one really messed with her because they knew her parents might sue.

“Okay,” Lia mumbled to herself as she wandered the almost empty school. “Lockers...”

She almost hopped over to the lockers when she saw them. When she went to open it, she found her choir binder with all of her songs in it. But..there was something else, too.

Lia’s eyes widened as she eyed the item. 

A rose...with a note?

Looking around to make sure no one was present, she took the note, nervously unfolding it. It was written on pink paper in surprisingly neat handwriting.

“Hey Lia. I know we never talk, but I just wanted to tell you that I’d love to get to know you more...maybe even go places together. I’ve been keeping an eye on you for the whole year. You’re very cute and...”

Lia tilted her head as she read it. The rest of the note was practically scribbled out. Nonetheless she appreciated the gesture. It was so kind. She loved it until she read the rest that wasn’t scribbled out...

“...I’ve been assigned to be your student. You know, like you’re my mentor. Can’t wait, baby~

Ryujin.

Lia immediately dropped the note. It fluttered down and gently hit the ground. She was so shocked that no one had told her that she was going to be teaching RYUJIN. SHIN Ryujin...

Ryujin was definitely a player. She was involved in tons of sports and had not so good grades. She definitely was smart, it was just that she never tried in class. She also had a tendency to flirt. Lia knew she’d have to work really hard.

The next day, Lia walked into the school like normal. Usually she went to the choir room before school started so she could practice. But today would be different.

She hummed to herself as she walked towards the hallway with her favorite classroom in it. As she was opening the door, a hand aggressively grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. 

“Hey, you!”

Lia looked back as she nervously fixed her hair. Her eyes were on a girl with short blue hair, ripped jeans, a leather jacket...

Oh no.

“Oh, umm, Ryujin! It’s so nice to meet you! Here.” Lia held out one of her hands to shake with Ryujin. Ryujin shook her head. “I don’t do handshakes.”

“Oh.” Lia’s eyes immediately went to the ground. She felt...embarrassed in some way. Already starting off with an introduction like that....

“Hey.” Ryujin grabbed Lia’s chin and pointed up so she could see her face. Lia felt her face go hot. She’d never seen Ryujin up close...she was so gorgeous.

Ryujin whispered as she stared into her eyes, “I’ll see you later, baby.”

She then let go and walked off, hands behind her head. Lia was just in such huge shock. 

Was she flirting with me...?

After school that day was their first tutor session. Lia had taken some extra time to make flash cards and other essentials so it’d be easier for Ryujin to understand. Although her mind was only replaying the events from earlier, making it hard to focus.

Lia had been sitting in the library for ten minutes when she heard the door open. Ryujin walked in, jacket slung over her shoulder. She glanced around, probably looking for Lia. Lia waved and Ryujin spotted her, nodding her head as she walked over and sat down.

“Hey, princess. How’ve you been?”

Lia immediately felt her face go hot once more. How can such words make her feel so attracted in a way? She wanted to ignore it, so she tried her best.

“I’ve been doing good,” Lia shyly said as she watched Ryujin put her legs on the table. “I hope you have been doing the same.”

Ryujin nodded. “Yeah, just the usual. Got into a fight the other day.”

The brunette was not surprised at this. She’d heard about tons of fights, most of them actually involved Ryujin.

“Oh...I hope you’re okay.”

Ryujin scoffed and smirked at Lia. “There’s no worry needed! Do you see any injuries? I can get away with any sort of shit that I want to.”

Lia felt...intimidated by Ryujin. She felt as if she were her prey. But, she slid those feelings aside.

“O-Okay, that’s nice to know. Anyways, we should probably begin the lesson.”

The two studied for maybe an hour, and actually ended up talking an hour more. They seemed to get along well.

And the days continued like that for the rest of the tutoring sessions. They laughed together, talked together...everything was great. And Ryujin knew that soon, she’d have to tell Lia her feelings. She couldn’t just keep them in for the rest of the year. So today would be the day.

“So,” Ryujin said as she got up and stretched. “Ready for next session, teacher?”

Lia nodded, not knowing the huge smile on her face was VERY obvious. “Of course! If it makes it easier for you to learn.”

The blue haired girl scoffed. “I don’t need to learn about subjects.” She leaned in close to Lia. “But I’d love to learn more about you.”

Lia, as expected, felt her face go red. More flirting? As expected from Ryujin.

“And the only way I can learn about you is to do things with you.” She moved a strand of Lia’s hair out of her face for her as Lia stood up nervously. 

“So...” 

“Would you be willing to go out with me?”

Lia’s eyes widened. She’d never ever had a date before! But something else was off...

“Ryujin...” Lia smirked at her as Ryujin’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Were you nervous?” Ryujin shook her head. “N-No! I’m never nervous.”

Lia giggled as she took Ryujin’s hand. “Okay, then. I guess you can tell that this is a yes from me.”

Ryujin felt her heart beat faster as she looked at Lia. Her pure smile, beautiful pair of eyes...everything was perfect.

“Y-Yeah...I guess it is.”

END

Okay I messed with the original idea a bit, they weren’t project partners but Ryujin needed tutoring since her grades were bad. As soon as I saw this one I just knew I had to do it right away, my inspiration is boiling so I’m going to go finish some of the other requests as I post this! I hope you liked it!

[fanfiction-inc]

“But Of Course.”

Title: “But Of Course.”

Verse: Dracula (2020)

Characters/Pairings: Dracula/ Reader

Warnings/Tags: Mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol, alcohol, mentions of blood, blood, body disposal, flirting. Not really that worrisome.

Word Count: 1607

Summary: A request for a friend about the reader meeting Dracula in the bar. Oh, the bonding.

Rating: Mature (for mature themes)

Note: I was requested from a good friend to write a thirst story for her without truly going into smut. So here we are. Thank you to the always lovely @yancy-trash​ on Tumblr for proofing this fic and giving me feedback before I post it.

Link to Ao3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22781278

Saturday night, prime time for the clubbers and mingling masses. Lovely chaos of the clubs that spill out into the streets and spread among drunkards and horny bastards. Too much noise, too much glee and happiness. Sickening stench of club-rigged drugs and bathroom sex. Boring, always so boring, and yet those that were unfortunate enough to be dragged along must endure. A tap to the mahogany surface of the clubs bar top, the bartender sending a light nod to the woman sitting alone near the end of the bar away from company of the gathering university masses, spilling drinks here and there and getting into petty squabbles over who fucked who and whom and who called dibs on the next hot piece of ass. Distasteful, this generation had always been so distasteful.

Whisky on the rocks, straightforward with no questions asked, that was what this world needed. No guesswork, just something to numb the pain and drown out the noise that has been so festering at the ear drums. A single sip was taken before the weight of a college lad slammed against the back of the woman sitting alone, drink spilling all over the bar top and coating the mahogany and spilling over the edges onto the bottles below holding various other liquors. She groaned, gaze looking back at the lad who gave a cheeky smile and threw that look that only said selfish prick. “Hiya baby d-” “Don’t even fucking try, mate. If you’re this much of a light weight, stumbling around, I’m rather sure you wouldn’t last two seconds in bed. Scram.” The lad was about to argue before catching sight of a new skinnier and more viable, even drunker than him, option of a woman. Long legs, legs for fucking days. The woman sighed, surprised when a new glass was set before her on the semi-cleaned bar top, napkin beneath holding neat lettering. “Who?” Was all the woman had to ask, a finger pointed to the man at the other end of the bar top, glass raised in greetings with that look that simply said ‘enjoy’. Another glance to the napkin below, note neatly written yet beginning to smear from the remnants of the whiskey that had been spilled before.

“It’s quiet over here. Care to join me?”

It was an invitation from a man far older yet far different from the crowd lingering within the confines of the club. It seemed he held a far more confident air, and he didn’t seem like the drunkard party boy type much like the others standing about trying to catch a new lad or lass for their five second sexcapades in the handicap stall of the club's bathroom. Slowly the half-drenched napkin and glass of newly poured whiskey was moved along to the end where the man sat, the shadow in the back of neon lights and drug induced dancing. He looked near pleased when the woman sits with him, looking on to the was she stretched to straddle the seat before crossing her legs in a far more lady-like manner. “Either this was given to the wrong woman or you have me gravely mistaken.”

A moment where the man smirked against the rim of his glass, stealing a slow, savored sip of the thickened red of a wine that didn’t smell too sweet, nor really smelled much like a wine. But who was to say what it really smelled beyond the scent that clashed within the mass of bodies. “Oh, it was meant for you, I do promise you that. No one as lovely as you should be alone, and for that same token, hit on by boys thinking they’re men.”

“And do you consider yourself the lucky man who will score tonight?” The man shrugged, sending a small chuckle to the woman at his side. “No one is quite able to determine the outcome of the night, not nearly so early into the evening when things are just starting. So, no, I do not consider myself lucky in such regards unless you are to change my mind on such.” A wink that could have been missed with a blink of an eye caught the woman off guard, a soft smile tracing her lips.

“You seemed quite lonesome, my dear. All alone with no party to keep your interest?” He inquired with a raised brow, wondering why someone with such a steady heart and lovely gaze would be alone in the epicenter of drunken and lust induced chaos. “Oh, m’party left a while ago. No fun, those posh bastards. All they want is to dance, drink, and fuck. The same rinse and repeat every weekend. It gets bloody boring, especially when I’m not much for dancing or bein’ pressured to find some sod to bring home.”

“Ah, I believe I understand. I’m rather, how should I say, picky with my preferences in people. Like a fine connoisseur of wines, you have to pick through the crowd to find the right flavor.”

“You’ve got that right.” A glance over the mans features, he grinned at her lingering gaze. “Sometimes the right vintage is in order, though I’m far more a whiskey connoisseur than wine. It’s never done much for my taste.”

“Or is it a matter that it simply doesn’t give you the right numbing buzz?”

She paused at his words, wondering just how the man could figure such. Was she that visible, that see-through? “Of course I mean no offense by such, my dear. You just simply seem tired of the same grind, the same motions like a creek that always floods. You appear prone to it.” A stifle of a saddened chuckle. The woman knew he hit the nail right on the head. “You know, if you’re gonna hit that close to home, you might as well get my name first.” He blinked before placing a hand on his head with a chuckle, his dramatics almost charming in a way. “May I ask the name of such a ravishing creature?” She actually blushed at his words, startled to be called ravishing by such an extraordinary man who could read her like an open book. “(First name). Her hand was extended to shake his own and yet the shadow of a man surprised her when he grasped her hand and brought it to his lips, a delicate kiss given to her knuckles. “I’m Dracula. Count Dracula if you must.” The air around them seemed to shift to a far more comfortable setting, even as the club began to grow tighter and tighter, far more suffocating then one would prefer. The drinks kept coming, the world numbing to a dull buzz and the gentle drone of her mystery man's voice as he spoke of many things. Art, music, the culture of the modern world. It was to the point that a glass of water was taken and sipped before a final invitation arose.

“(First name), would you care to join me before I retire for the night? Perhaps a stroll in the park?” It was truly an innocent offer on his behalf, the crimson liquid that had dwindled to mere drops left behind on the bar top and arm offered for the other. “I don’t know, Drac. I think I should call a cab and make my way back to m’flat. Perhaps a rain check?” He smiled at her words. His dinner plans had been thrown out the window the moment he realized the water was beginning to work its way through her system and she didn’t seem to nearly sway as bad. Oh well, ‘fast food’ was in order for tonight, and she may serve as a sweetened dinner on another night. “Ah, yes, of course.” He offered a hand once more to the woman, a soft peck yet again dropped to her knuckles before a card was tucked against her palm. She turned it over to see the Counts number, a faint smirk meeting her lips. “I’ll make sure to m-” A glance up and the man was gone, leaving the other to wonder just where he could have squeezed his lengthy frame off to in the middle of such a chaotic crowd.

A cab was called as the night grew later, back hitting the worn leather of the interior seat and sigh falling from painted lips.

[You never told me you were a magician, Mr. Count. - (Y/n)]

[I never said I wasn’t, my dear. ;) - D]

The Count smirked as he glanced down to his phone, the odd little device bringing that same excitement as the thrill of the chase when he captures his next meal. Indeed, this one truly had been fast food. He lightly wipes at the crimson that had beaded and rolled from the corner of his mouth down his chin, the cloth tucked away within his suit pocket as the corpse before his feet was nudged off into the water of the Thames. Oh, how lovely London was for its disposal services. Such a body of water provided the loveliest of cover ups.

[Care to meet me for drinks next week? Maybe we could find something a bit more to your selective flavors. - (Y/N)]

[Oh, how that sounds delectable. Consider my schedule free for that night, my dear. -D]

[Always a charmer, aren’t you? - (Y/N)]

A snicker fluttered among the air when he looked at the brightened screen, a lick to his lips following as he followed the familiar streets leading to his own flat, quiet steps that would normally echo silent as he thinks of a reply. Oh, this one way playful when not in person.

[But of course. -D]

[piscesbarnes]

Lil Bit Floozy → Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky x reader

warnings: reader is of age to drink(?) drunk reader. fluff. soft!bucky

prompt: bucky’s more prone to be responsive to you when you’re a soft, drunken mess

“(Y/N),” Natasha said with a warning tone as you pulled her along your side. You were cheery and encouraging as you dragged her to the bar with you.

“Come on, it’s our first night back from our mission,” you whined, already tipsy yourself. Nat had been sent on your behalf, to check in on you per Steve, who noticed how comfortable you were getting with the female bartender. “Bella, this is Nat.” you gushed. Bella was a latina-looking woman. Black hair to match her outfit. She was a little bit taller than you were, but your heels helped you put up a good fight.

“Nat! Heard so much about you,” Bella grinned at her before flickering her eyes to you. “You were right, she is gorgeous.” Natasha’s eyes met your big ones, almost scoffing at your poor attempts to stick around. It worked though.

Bella and Natasha hit it off quickly. The flirting was more than obvious, plus they were both babysitting you. Hitting two birds with one stone. Not to mention the free drinks Bella would discreetly slide over to you. Tequila, Bella’s recommendation.

They listened to you mumble to yourself as you took shots, occasionally responding. It was amazing how they could be engulfed in two different conversations. You even had trouble trying to decipher the codes they were speaking.

It wasn’t until a Rihanna song had blasted through the club that you moved from your seat. You squealed in delight, something you’d never do regularly, but it was so hard to contain your excitement with the intoxication drawing over you heavily.

“Nat!” you tugged on her arm, pouting your lips like a child. Nat looked at Bella. Bella shrugged, nodding her head, shouting something to the other bartender before tugging off her apron and hopping over the counter. Natasha made a sly comment to the dark-haired girl she’d clicked so well with.

Nat and Bella did their thing. They tried keeping up with you, but with the change of energy, your heartbeat matched everyone else’s. To the beat of the song. So you were jumping all around, losing them within seconds of entering the club. Despite it being hard to breathe in the musty room full of hot, sweaty dancers, you found yourself getting along quite well with those surrounding you. Also, unlike you.

From the corner of the room, you could see Bucky sitting at a table by himself. He sipped on a dark drink, a coke probably. Bucky was your friend. And he wasn’t having fun, it didn’t look like it at least. At this, you frowned. If he wouldn’t come to you and have fun, you’d bring it to him. You stumbled over to him, a giggle leaving your lips. Bucky stared at you with wide eyes, not used to this...softer side of you.

“Buck!” you beamed brightly, throwing your arms around him. Hm... the music was softer than it was out there. He tensed up at the touch. But because it was you, a very intoxicated you, he decided he could allow it. You had no idea what got into you. One look at Bucky and your heart swelled. “Hewwo!” you coo’d. You couldn’t be any more adorable.

“Hi doll.” Bucky returned the smile, hesitantly lifting his hands to grip your waist. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” you nodded your head, batting your lashes at him. “Jus’ a lil floozy. Jus’ a bit though,” you cut yourself off with a little giggle. You sounded so stupid, but you were so cute, he just wanted to squish you. “Saw you, you weren’t having fun, so I just- you- w-wanted you to have fun.” you stumbled over your words just as bad as you did your feet. He continued to stare at you in awe; how could someone be so cute?

“It’s okay, this isn’t really my scene,” he tried to dismiss. You were adorable. You stopped your fun to come and make sure he was feeling okay. Even though he wanted you to be content, he didn’t feel like dancing. Not like this anyway. “It’ll be hard for me to have fun in a place like this.”

“Not even if you talk to me?” you murmured with a small frown smearing across your lips. His eyes flickered there, causing him to lick his own.

“I would prefer you here with me.” and it wasn’t at all a lie. Bucky liked your company. He was quite curious to see how you were while you were drunk, he’d be willing to hold your hair back if you vomited. Bucky was also very cautious with you. He’d rather you in his sights than trying to dance up on strangers. He was sure everyone in the building wasn’t just hyped up on alcohol.

“R-really?” you coo’d, feeling yourself becoming smaller in his arms. You wanted to squeal and giggle while rolling around in your bed, kicking your feet. But you couldn’t. It wasn’t appropriate for the setting. Even under the dark lights, he could sense the blush that blessed your cheeks.

“Of course babydoll. Wouldn’t have anyone else.” he told you. You don’t know how or why, but you climbed into his lap, feeling super comfortable with him. Bucky certainly wasn’t expecting it, but he wasn’t gonna complain.

“Not even Steve?” you slightly teased. Bucky chuckled, shaking his head.

“Not even Steve. That man is so far up Tony’s ass, I don’t wanna hear another word from the lovesick fool.” Bucky commented. You giggled at the swear word and it’s context. His hand came up to the middle of your back, holding you up in his lap.

“Steve’s just really in love with the guy, okay? Don’t be mad at him, you know he’s always been a sap.” you tried to defend the blondie. But Bucky was right. Steve never shut up and his man and it was getting to everyone.

“You know me (Y/N), a sap I can handle. Steve’s on another level.” this was also true. Bucky was a hopeless romantic, asking you for novels day after day, so you knew he could handle a regular sap. But Steve was in love.

“Steve’s in love,” was now your only argument. But you had Bucky trumped.

“I guess you’re right.” Bucky sighed in defeat. He looked over to see Steve holding the Stark’s hand, gazing at him with so much adoration. He did a small, half smile, feeling happy for his best friend. Bucky glanced at you, to find you staring at him with the same adoring eyes that Steve wore. “Is there something on my face?”

“Nuh uh,” you shook your head. “You’re just... pwetty.” you gleamed up at him, a shy smile spreading across your face. He smiled at this. He was sure you’d made him smile more in these twenty minutes than he had in a whole week. Bucky kind of hoped this was something he could get used to.

“I’m pretty?” Bucky questioned, giving into you as hi leaned his face in to pinch your cheek like you were a kid. Of course, in your intoxicated state, it made you feel so warm inside. “But you’re a pretty baby, aren’t you?”

It was like Bucky knew what he was doing to you. Babying you while he already made you feel so... tiny. You liked it a lot. This affectionate side of Bucky that no one really saw. You got a free pass because you’re drunk, but you were hoping you wouldn’t forget.

The blue-eyed man let you curl up into his chest, stuffing your face against his pectoral muscles to hide the blush. Bucky couldnt stop himself from stroking your hair, your eyes fluttering shut as you leaned into his chest.

“Doll?” he softly mumbled against the shell of your ear. Bucky wasn’t even sure if you’d heard him over the music.

“Uh huh?” you hummed against him, nuzzling your nose into his neck, inhaling his scent. His Versace cologne mixed with his sandalwood candles.

“You want me to take you home? Get you in more comfy clothes so you can sleep?” his voice was overwhelmingly soft. It made you melt nonetheless.

“Mm, only I can be the big spoon.” you answered sheepishly. Bucky hadn’t the intentions of cuddling with you. He didn’t want it to seem like he was taking advantage of you. “Wanna hold you. Big, soft puppy.”

“Baby, I shouldn’t.” he stroked your back, lulling you farther into sleep. You pulled back, a pout forming on your lips. Fuck, how could he say no to that? “I just don’t want you to wake up and kill me.”

“Why would I do that?” you whined. If you could stomp your feet, you would. “S’only cuddles.” when he didn’t seem swayed, your pout only got worse. “Fine! I’ll trade cuddles in forrrrr....” you trailed off.

“For what?” Bucky asked with a tilt of his head.

“Your shirt to sleep with and-...and a kiss!” you chirped. Jesus, how come you never made these advances at him when you were sober? He knew you’d never give up, even if you were drunk.

“How about, I give you my shirt and cuddles. Then in the morning, if you’re still feeling it, I’ll give you that kiss?” you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly, halfway listening to the music. But you were sure you’d be getting what you wanted.

“Hm,” you pretended to think about it, a knowing grin on your lips. “Deal!”

The next morning, you woke up in your bed with a headache. You felt more groggily as ever, turning over to curl up into a ball, only to be met with Bucky’s sleeping state. You blinked a few times in disbelief. You peeked under the sheets and let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He was clothed in his pajamas. You were in the shirt he wore to the club, meaning it still smelt strongly of him and his cologne.

Bucky was on his back, his hair splayed out from underneath him all over your pillow. His mouth was slightly ajar, the sound of his breathing only escaping his mouth. Looking over, you realized you’d gotten wasted at the club. Shit.

After a bunch of cute little babbling and purrs from you, he managed to get you to fall asleep. He could have retreated to his room, you were too far gone in your slumber anyway. And there was a bigger chance of you not remembering your fun night. But a part of him wanted to make sure you were okay. He would have to explain himself in the morning, but he figured that you wouldn’t be angry with him. He did set out an aspirin and a bottled water for you, which you happily downed, eyes steadily trained on the big man in your bed.

You rummaged your memory of last night. The last thing you could recollect was introducing Nat to Bella. Everything else was a blur. You flipped to lie on your side, chin in your palm with your elbow propped on your pillow as you admired Bucky. You wondered if he was even real. Was this real?

You extended your arm out, your hand running over his chest. Bucky didn’t react, maybe his breathing, but that was it. You chewed on your bottom lip in wonder. What had you done to get him in your bed?

“Y’know,” Bucky grunted as he stretched in your bed, eyes still shut. Your eyes widened even more. “You keep lookin’ at me like that doll and I might just have to kiss you.”

“W-what?” you were bewildered. Bucky turned to his side, facing you as his eyes opened. “Bucky, I don’t- I, uh-“

“You’re wondering why I’m here,” he stated in his gruff morning voice. Bucky had you like putty in his hands and he hadn’t even had a full-on conversation with you yet. “Well, you were a little bit floozy last night, those were your words by the way. You came to me and talked to me a little bit. I wanted to take you home so I could put you to bed,” he paused, smacking his lips, still waking up. “You said you’d only come home if we cuddled. Initially, I said no. But we bargained for my shirt and cuddles.”

“Oh.” you blinked. Seemed fair enough. It sounded like you to be affectionate as you were.

“That’s not all though.” Bucky grinned as the sun began to peek before behind the curtain. “When I said no, you said you’d take my shirt and a kiss instead. But I told you, I’d give you the latter and if you were still up for it in the morning, I’d give you a kiss.” you tried to stop it, you really did, but you couldn’t. Your jaw dropped slightly, but you regained your composure quickly.

It looked like you both were out of character this morning. Bucky was oozing with confidence, while you couldn’t even keep up your emotionless exterior. You were so ready to jump his bones last night and here you were, a shy, messy puddle in front of him and it amused him. He was like a kid and wanted to mess around in the puddle, play with it a little. This was your chance.

“Okay, then kiss me.” you demanded quietly. Your words confirmed his suspicions. You wanted him, drunken words really were just an unspoken truth.

His hand reached out and brushed along the side of your neck, pushing away your hair. Bucky’s hand grapsed the side of your neck, pulling you toward him harshly until you were snuggly fit against him. You were on his chest at this point, giving him the best morning view he could’ve ever asked for. Bucky watched you for a little bit, desire and infatuation sprouting across his oceanic eyes. He couldn’t help but brush his thumb across your chin. His finger came into slight contact with your bottom lip, a soft gasp leaving you. Bucky noticed, of course he did. He couldn’t help but let his thumb wander to brush across your lips, your tongue instinctively licking your lips at the same moment. You caught him off guard, but he liked it. It wasn’t long before he had you under him, your cheek cupped in his large hand as he kissed you hard. Bucky nipped at your lips a few times before pulling away, leaving you breathless.

“I think...” you panted, brushing the palm of your hand across his jaw to which he cuddled his face even deeper in your hand. “I’m a little floozy again.”

[cianmars]

The Bookworms and the Library: Chapter 6 : Grand Opening AO3

James arrived at the bookstore early, he fidgeted in his dress shirt, it was soft and nice but it made him think of the expensively tailored clothes he wore growing up. It felt suffocating. He had to keep reminding himself that it was his choice to wear it this time, that he had chosen the shirt and to wear it, it wasn’t like wearing nice clothes in George’s castle, he had to make new associations with nice clothes here.

“Belle? You here yet?” He called up, they had already set up the tables ready for the food to be put on. Belle must have decorated it a bit more, there were book themed signs for where all the food was going to go. He ducked into the staff kitchen in the back and grabbed some of the food they had, more would be coming soon, on behalf of Granny’s diner.

“Hey.”

James turned around, looking up to the staircase where the voice came from, his mouth fell open as he watched her descend.

She was in a simple grey dress, she had dyed her hair after she had broken up with Rumple, now it led barely touching her shoulders, she had some makeup on, the same as usual, but she was smiling completely unimpeded by worries.

“Woah Belle you look…” His mouth fell open again and he remained speechless. “I, you look amazing.”

Belle blushed. “You scrub up good yourself.” She told him when she reached him. And he really did, he was in a suit which was cut well, he must have gone to one of the tailors in the town to be fitted for it. He was also wearing a tie, crimson, which was slightly askew. “Here, let me just-.” She reached out to his tie, her baby bump a barrier between the two of them, straightening the tie for him. She placed her hand on his suited chest after straightening it. “There, perfect.”

James’s cheeks took on a pink tinge as he looked down into her light blue eyes. He remembered the kiss a week before. He took a step back. “Thanks. I erm, I got you something.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a box he passed it to her, his hand shaking a little. “Y’know to help Oh Granny’s here I’ll help her set it all up.”

Bella frowned at him quickly leaving her side.

She waved hello to Granny and called over a hello to the Charming family who all turned up to help out before opening. She moved herself to the corner near the checkout counter, she opened the box. There was a gold locket in the shape of a book, she gasped then carefully opened it up, there was a photograph of the latest scan of her baby inside, and room for another picture. One of her hands went to her mouth. It was so beautiful, so delicate, so perfect for her. She took it from the box to put it on, as she did a piece of paper fluttered onto the counter. She fastened the necklace around her neck before picking up the piece of paper.

There was a poem in James’ neat handwriting on a thick expensive looking piece of paper.

Your heart links, to my soul: And feels, like Coming home.

She sucked in a breath of air. She needed to talk to James, she needed to know why he wrote that poem, why he was being so nice with her, so flirting, so loving, but when she kissed him a week before he had pulled out of the kiss and looked like he hated it, or her.

She looked towards where she could hear James’ voice, he was welcoming people in, she couldn’t talk to him now. She suddenly realised that she wished the opening party was over, she had been waiting for it for so long and yet now she just wanted to be alone in the room with James, she needed to talk to him.

She placed the note back into the box, tucking it into her handbag, she didn’t want to lose it. She plastered on a smile, one hand went to hold onto her new locket, the other instinctively touched her bump. She had a decision to make and a party to host, and a bookstore to open.

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The party was soon in full swing, the store was packed with people Belle and James knew, people from the town, Belle had invited her ex husband but he had declined the locket around her neck suddenly made her relieved about that.

She found herself looking at James more than usual, or maybe the same amount as usual, she wasn’t sure anymore.

She was staring at him when suddenly she felt a tap on her back. She turned expecting it to be Snow or maybe Emma.

“Oh my god Ruby!” Belle threw her arms around her friend. “Mulan! What are you both doing here?”

“Your partner called to tell us about the opening, we were planning on coming back soon anyway but we thought we’d come home even quicker.”

“Well I’m so glad that you did, I have a lot to tell you.” She felt a weight off her shoulders seeing her friends back, she felt a little less lonely knowing that she was now up two friends. “Later of course, wait, partner?”

“Yeah, David’s brother.” Mulan told her slowly.

“Your business partner?” Ruby added just as slow.

“Oh! Oh! Wait, he rang you?”

“He said he knew you missed us, not that I blame you, he said some people in the town were jerks because you’re pregnant with Gold’s baby. He thought you needed some support.”

Belle looked over at James who was talking to David and Emma, as though he felt her eyes on him he looked over at her, she smiled at him and mouth ‘thank you’ at him, her hand on her new necklace too.

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The night went on, both she and James made speeches thanking their friends and everyone for coming, they told them events and activities they would be holding in the bookstore, and why they started it. James even talked a little about his adoptive mother who loved libraries, and his childhood dream of being able to read all the time, which he now could. Belle said similar, and that she couldn’t wait for her son to be able to grow up how she did - in a place with hundreds of books.

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Eventually the party came to an end, some people stayed to help them clean up, but soon it was just Belle and James alone, grabbing their things ready to head to their homes.

“Thank you, for the necklace by the way, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s okay, I wanted to give you something, a thank you for always being there, and to say I’m proud of you, for how far you’ve come even since I first knew you… though you were throwing up in a toilet when I first met you so…” He trailed off trying to make a joke but it fell a little short.

Belle watched him putting some order forms into his satchel, he wasn’t looking at her, her face was so full of love whenever she saw him, she loved everything about him - from his considerate nature, to the way his hair curled a little with water or humidity. She placed her hand on her stomach, she needed to know, she steeled her courage and spoke softly. “James? Why did you pull out of the kiss?”

“What?” His heartbeat picked up. This was dangerous territory.

“I kissed you, last week, you even kissed me back but then you pulled out of it you stopped it. Did you not want to kiss me?”

“Belle, I… it’s complicated.”

“No, what’s complicated is you stopping the kiss today and then today you gave me this locket and a beautiful poem which you wrote yourself.”

“You don’t know that I wrote that poem myself-”

“- I know your words, Jamie. I know you.” She took a step closer to him. She was within touching distance to him now. “Why didn’t you want to kiss me?” She asked him quietly.

“I want to kiss you Belle. I want to kiss you more than I’ve ever wanted to kiss anybody. I want to kiss you and never stop kissing you, I want to make you smile: I just like you being happy.”

“Then why have you not tried to kiss me? Why have you never asked me out on a date?”

“Anyone I’ve ever loved I’ve lost, even people I’ve only kind of liked.” He gently shook his head looking at her, helplessly, “I can’t do that to you, I can’t lose you Belle- or put you in danger.”  

“You’re never going to lose me.” She pulled him down using the lapels of his suit jacket.

Their lips met, bumping together with their haste, their kisses were desperate and hungry: They had been starving for months, for years, and each other’s lips felt like a feast they were finally allowed to have.

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When they finally pulled out from their kiss they were breathless, James’ arms were wrapped around her, stabilizing her, and her hands were still holding onto his suit, her head tilted up to him. “James?”

“Belle?” He stared down at her licking his bottom lip, barely able to restrain himself from kissing her again.

“Ask me out on a date.”

“Belle French, are you available to go out to dinner with me on friday night?”

“Hmm… I’ll have to check my diary.” She teased.

James shook his head in amusement, god she was going to give him a run for his money, and she was so worth it. He let out a low chuckle, full of soul, he was the happiest he could ever remember being.

[sariahsue]

Seeing Double, Chapter 2

Summary: Ladybug has discovered Cat Noir’s secret identity, and he doesn’t know that she knows. And she doesn’t know that he knows hers. He doesn’t know who Marinette has a crush on. She doesn’t know why Adrien is suddenly flirting with her.

Read chapter 1 here

    It was a miracle that Ms. Bustier had put them in different groups. It wasn't that Marinette was suddenly freaking out about Adrien. It was just that she was having a hard enough time functioning while she was only staring at the back of his head. She wasn't sure she could have handled sitting next to and talking with him.

    Marinette was not freaking out. She wasn't. Everything was okay. So what if Cat Noir was really Adrien? That's okay. This was fine. She could be normal in class... as long as she couldn't see him. She could walk around like nothing was wrong. Because nothing was. Really.

    As soon as the bell rang, she raced for the safety of the crowded hallway, where it would be so much easier to avoid him. Unfortunately, there was no escaping Alya.

    "Girl, what is going on with you and Adrien today?"

    "Nothing!" she said too quickly, and opened her locker mechanically. There were things in her locker. She needed to take some of those things home. These things had to do with school, not Adrien. Adrien was Cat Noir.

    "Really? Why are you avoiding him, then?"

    So that means that Adrien fought all those akumas with her. Adrien had saved her life multiple times. That was normal. This was okay.

    "Hey, Marinette?" Alya leaned toward her and whispered. "He's coming over." After a few more seconds, she stepped away, not that Marinette noticed.

    But if Adrien and Cat Noir were really the same person... She could feel her brain start to melt with this new realization. If they were the same person, that meant it was really Adrien who constantly flirted with her. THIS IS NOT OKAY!

    She felt a sudden tap on her shoulder and spun in place as Adrien said, "Hey, Marinette." She jumped backward in surprise, knocking her elbow into the door of her locker and spraying her papers everywhere. Be normal! It's just Cat Noir, who is also Adrien!

    Adrien stopped short at her reaction, but she refused to look at the papers floating lazily to the floor around them, so he took that as a sign to keep going. "Sorry," he said, leaning against a neighboring locker and smiling broadly. "Didn't mean to startle you."

    Quick. Say something normal. "Good, thanks!"

    Behind Adrien, Alya facepalmed. Nino had come to stand next to her and gave Marinette an encouraging smile.

    "Uh..." Adrien dropped all pretense of trying to be cool and instead just looked kind of confused. "Are you okay?"

    "Oh, s-sorry," she said. "You stuck up – SNUCK up – on me." They stared at each other for several seconds before she had the sense to fill up the awkward silence by picking up her papers, which had puddled around her feet. Adrien quickly bent to help her.

    She could handle this. She was friends with Cat Noir. She was also friends with Adrien. This shouldn't be too hard to talk to them – him – normally. She just had to focus on her words instead of her pounding heart and the army of butterflies in her stomach.

    "So, you are how?" She cringed, and Alya managed to make it worse by snickering at her misfortune. Some friend.

    "I'm fine." He looked up at her and winked. Winked! "How are you?"

    "You're fine. I'M FINE. How are you?"

    "I'm... still fine," he said. He open his mouth to say something else, but after a quick glance at her face, he shut it again. The last paper fluttered in the wake of all the passing students. Adrien snatched it out of the air and handed it to her.

    "So... how'd you do on the assignment? I bet it was really easy for someone as smart as you," he said.

    He had come over here to talk to her. He was putting in the effort to keep the conversation going. He was complimenting her! She wasn't going to let this opportunity slip away. Cat Noir liked flirts and puns, right?

    "Not as smart as you! You're as smart as scissors!"

    "Thanks?"

    In the background, Alya covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with the effort of holding in her laughter. Nino pulled his cap down over his face, obviously embarrassed on her behalf.

    "Yeah, like, scissors are really smart," she continued.

    Adrien nodded his agreement even though he clearly had no idea what she was talking about. Her face started to get warm. How did he make this seem so easy?

    "Scissors are sharp, and sharp means smart." Her palms started to sweat. "And... and rock, paper, scissors." She gestured to the papers haphazardly piled in her arms and almost dropped them. "So I thought, you're sharp like scissors, and uh, you picked me up- helped me pick up..." Never mind. She couldn't do this. "I just remembered I have to help in the bakery today," she blurted out, face shining with embarrassment. "Bye!"

    Before Adrien could respond, she slammed her locker closed and dove into the throng of students heading for the doors. She knew there weren't enough people to hide her from view, so she moved quickly, narrowly avoiding backpacks and elbows. Ms. Mendeleiv stepped out of her classroom suddenly, and Marinette was lucky to step around her at the last second, saving herself from an embarrassing collision that would have ended with her papers all over the floor again. She could still feel Adrien's eyes on her. A glance over her shoulder confirmed that, yes, he was still watching her. She had to go home. She picked up her pace and faced forward, just in time to walk into a wall. The papers exploded from her hands. This time, she left them and fled, ignoring all the stares. Behind her, Alya started cackling loudly.

    "That was hilarious." Marinette heard Alya's voice echoing down the hallway after her.

    "Is she okay?" Adrien's voice was quieter, and she only just managed to pick out his words.

    "She'll be fine." Alya had to catch her breath between her bellowing laughs. "You should flirt with her more often. Oh, my gosh." Another gasp for breath. "I'm crying."

    Marinette turned a corner, and Alya's voice was muffled by the shuffle of feet and the end-of-school buzz of voices. She barely remembered leaving the building, instead replaying what was probably the most mortifying conversation of her life.

    She fervently hoped that Adrien, Cat Noir, would never find out that she was Ladybug.

Read chapter 3 here