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sonicslushie · 11 months

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Stars By The Pocketful~P.P.

A/N: Alrighttttt youins, anotha one. I caught up on my school work (summer classes so I don’t gotta cram 18 hours into my last semester of college lol) so here’s this. Starting part 2 od when the devil’s calling after I post this, so it’ll probs be uploaded sunday. Sorry for keeping yall waiting lol. Thinking about creating a playlist of the songs i use to write to, if youins want i’ll make it public and post it on here

Also pretend I mentioned the reader being homeschool bc I definitely didn’t. And it’s a fem reader btw.

playlist i write to, for u to read to

P.S. look up the meanings of the flowers mentioned in this i dare u

Summary: Man you really don’t like that Peter Parker kid. Or do you?

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

TW: underage drinking, crudeness, langauge.

Word Count: 4.8k

Peter Parker.

Oh how you hated that guy.

It was always Peter Parker this, Peter Parker that. Oh he’s such a sweet boy, really smart too. Did you know he was bit by a radioactive spider? Now he’s SPIDERMAN!!! Newest Avenger and don’t forget it- he’s also Tony Stark’s media proclaim prodigue! God it sucked.

The media didn’t even know about you, Tony Stark’s only kid. Nobody talked about how you were so smart, with an IQ of 137. Nobody talked about how you have been the mastermind of most of Tony’s greatest ideas, like FRIDAY. FRIDAY was your creation, but did anyone remember that? Nope. And hell, you were sweet… Sometimes. When you wanted to be. But recently, that wasn’t often. Because most of your time was spent mentoring Tony’s “prodigue” and making sure he wasn’t doing anything stupid because Happy couldn’t take the constant texts and calls from him- not that you could handle it much better.

Just yesterday Peter had called you to tell you he saved a cat from a tree. All you could say was “good for you” then you hung up on him and continued your Twilight marathon.

Life was so much better when that kid wasn’t around. You had peace and quiet- well as much peace and quiet you could get in the Stark Tower. Sure there was the constant bustling around of various Avengers and SHIELD members, but they mostly let you do your own thing. You had to attend nightly dinners with your father and the rest of the Avengers that stayed in the tower and the weekly movie nights, other than that, you were free as a bird. But now you were picking Peter up from school, overseeing his patrols in case anything got out of hand, and of course you handled all correspondence between him and your father.

The texts were the worst part.

Sometimes it felt like Peter was just texting you to text you. Maybe he was bored and didn’t have any friends, you didn’t really know. Or care, for that matter. He would text you every morning with some variation of “good morning” with a BUNCH of emojis. Not even normal ones like the regular smiley or even the sun one, he typically used the jackolantern, the robot one, and the anatomical heart (yes the actual HEART not the little colored hearts). If he was feeling real weird that day he would use ALL of the star-like emojis, including the planet ones. All of which, you never responded to. Nor did you respond to the various questions he would send you, mind you they weren’t ever Avenger or Spiderman related. One time he asked you if you believed in people having auras, and if you did what color did you think his would be. (You didn’t answer him, but you did think about it. You decided his would be green.)

But the thing you hated most about Peter was that he wasn’t hate-able. He was genuinely kind, sweet, and really really smart. He made you laugh with those stupid questions he would send you and he challenged your thinking, and that’s what you hated most. Most people barely stimulated your brain, but Peter? He made you think. He made you think hard. He made you question everything you knew and felt, and it was weird. He was weird. You wanted so badly to hate him with all of your soul but you just couldn’t find it in you. Those good morning texts, the nightly calls to update you on patrol, the silence when you two are working in the lab together- it was all something you enjoyed. He didn’t annoy you- no you enjoyed his company the most. If you were being honest, all the “peace and quiet” you got before he was around was really just loneliness. He filled that loneliness simply by being Peter.

The only thing you truly hated was all the attention he got from everyone, especially your dad. Tony Stark loves his daughter, there’s no lie in that, but sometimes it felt like he loved Peter more. For one he publicly shows his affection for Peter, but you understand why he can’t let the public know you’re his daughter. Stupid safety hazards and all with the copious amounts of super villains and bad guys that would want to use you to get to him. For two, he spends a lot of time with Peter, even if it’s not Avenger or superhero related. Just going out for burgers or hanging out in the lab building random stuff that you’ve always wanted to build with your dad. (There was this rocket that you had designed, and you dad promised to make it with you. He did it with Peter.) It just seemed like your dad preferred Peter. And that’s what hurt the most. So you deflected that anger onto Peter, unfortunately for him.

Most days you would just be short with him, ignoring his texts, telling him to suck an egg or something. Sometimes you didn’t even speak to him at all, just some grunts in his general direction. If you had to make appearances, you would pretend to be an intern alongside Peter and spend your time sulking in a corner, maybe sneak a drink or two from the open bars and scarf down any dessert in sight.

But today you and the rest of the Avengers were informed that there was to be a gala. For what? You didn’t know, you tuned out after your dad said that everyone was to attend and look pretty. A gala? A night of dancing and eating and possibly drinking if the venue was big enough to hide from your dad. Seemed fun enough, until your dad said something directly to you.

“Y/n, I would like you to be Peter’s date for the gala.” He said, very out of the blue to you. He had mentioned nothing about dates before, or at least you had thought so. (To be fair, you weren’t really listening, just imagining what food they would have.)

“What- why?” You asked, perking up at the turn of conversation.

“Because you two will be the youngest people there and I’m not trying to have a bunch of old men try to dance with my daughter. No arguments, I’ll even buy you drinks so you don’t have to sneak them.” He says, smirking at how the last part catches you off guard. You thought you had been being sneaky, but clearly drunk you got a little sloppy.

“Why couldn’t I be Bucky’s date, I mean he’s got a vibranium arm for god's sake.” You say, sighing as you lean back on the couch. Fortunately for you, Peter wasn’t there to get all excited about the gala, he was at home with his aunt May, probably sleeping for school tomorrow. He would be almost jumping out of his seat at the thought of being invited to a gala.

“I second that.” Bucky says, sipping from his drink, you wink at him but your dad snaps his fingers at the both of you.

“No. I don’t have to worry about Spiderboy being a perv, old man. We go tomorrow at 6, be ready you hoodlums.” Tony says, going back to picking a movie. You zone back out, freaking out about being Peter’s date. Obviously you were gonna have to be the one to tell him, you handle giving Avenger information to him. And this just so happened to be Avenger info, even if it was just a glorified dance.

You decided to go ahead and get it out of the way, you shot him a text, hoping he would be asleep.

Yo we’re going to a gala tomorrow. You’re my date. Avenger thing.

Not even a minute later he responded.

UR ASKING ME TO BE YOUR DATE?????

Fuck.

No, dad demanded it. Literally demanded it.

A minute goes by, you see the typing bubbles. You also feel bubbles in your stomach, as much as it pains you to admit.

Oh, well I’m honored to be ur date either way<3

Okaaaay that was enough Peter for one night. Now if you could handle a few hours of him tomorrow night.

Tomorrow came a little too quickly for your liking. You had to go shopping for a nice dress with Natasha during the day while Peter was at school. You found a beautiful lavender dress, it clung to your figure and showed off your back in a way that made you feel pretty delicious. Natasha was the one to pick it actually, she was pretty keen to fashion and what looked nice on you. Way to go, Nat.

You were also in charge of getting Peter’s tux, luckily you had his measurements from his suit that your dad made him, so you were able to find something that would fit him nicely and kinda sorta match you to appease your father. If you were being completely honest, you were excited to see Peter in it. He typically wore jeans and a baggy t-shirt, those did nothing for his body- no like the Spiderman suit. For someone you pretended to dislike, you had to admit, he had a nice ass. The tux was definitely going to do wonders for him- not that you would tell him that.

After everything was done in preparation for the gala, you picked Peter up from school, who practically JUMPED into the car.

“Y/n you are never going to believe what happened today at school- oh my gosh and the gala ,what am I gonna wear- are you excited- you don’t look excited- oh is that a bagel-”

You shoved the bagel into his mouth to get him to shut up.

Luckily it didn’t choke him, though in that moment you would have been okay with that happening.

“Dude chill, I got your tux. What happened at school today?” You asked, slowly pulling the bagel out of his mouth. Peter delves into his day at school, talking about how this guy Flash (a guy you truly hated for how rude he was to Peter) slipped on a banana peel like something out of a cartoon. You actually laughed at that, like a genuine laugh.

It was the first time Peter had heard you actually laugh at something he said. He was mesmerized by the sound of it, a warm laugh from your chest. It was unlike anything he had ever heard before, especially since it came from you. Peter was aware of how you acted towards him, I mean how couldn’t he be? The other day you threw a fork at him for just entering the room while you were dancing (or just shaking ass) to Taylor Swift. He knew he was trying a little too hard to be your friend, but he wanted to be your friend. And he might have had a little crush on you. How could he not though? You were beautiful, brilliant, and you were kind. Not outright, but it was the little things you did, like bringing him a bagel everyday when you picked him up for school, playing a playlist he sent you when you thought nobody was around, hell even going and picking up a tux for him for this gala. He knew you were sweet, he just had to crack that wall you had up.

And that laugh felt like a crack in the foundation of that wall, and he was going to bring it tumbling down tonight.

After a 20 minute drive to the Stark Tower and hearing all about Peter’s day and how excited he was for the gala, you two parted ways to get ready for the gala. At least you were going to get ready for the gala, Peter was going to go bother Happy into helping him figure out what your favorite flowers were, unbeknownst to you.

Time flew by and before you knew it FRIDAY was requesting that all the Avengers met in the lobby of the tower to be shuttled off to the gala. You were dressed up to the nines, praying you wouldn’t fall over in the heels Natasha lent you. Dear god, why were they so TALL?? If Nat wasn’t a world renowned assassin, you would wallop her in the head for making you wear these monstrosities she called “shoes”. There was no way you were going to make it through the night in these and having to keep up with Peter.

Before you could make it to the door of your room due to constant tripping, there was a knock at your door. You grunted at whoever was behind it to come in, Peter came in with one of his hands behind his back.

He watched you as you looked up from trying to get your heel unsnagged from the carpet, your hair falling into your face slightly. It was like a moment out of a movie; he was seeing you dressed up for the first time and he was dumbstruck. There could have been a musical number dedicated to this moment right here, the moment he knew he wasn’t going to last the night without making a fool of himself trying to get you to see him the way he sees you.

The moment was somewhat ruined when you said, “You gonna stand there drooling or are you going to help me?”

He scrambled over to you, bringing his arm out from behind him, displaying the bouquet he got you. He had gotten you your favorite flowers, a bouquet of tulips with baby’s breath surrounding them. For a moment you faltered, caught off guard by the act of sweetness. How did he know those were your favorite? He must have asked your dad or Happy, but either way it didn’t matter, the act melted your heart. It made those butterflies come back, especially as you took him in in all of his glory. His tux fit him perfectly and dear god, the bow tie you picked out for him. The lavender color complimented his skin and the brown in his eyes, which you never truly noticed before. Boy, you were in trouble.

“Why don’t you wear some different shoes? I’d love for you to hang on my arm all night, but those look like torture devices,” Peter says, laying the flowers on your bed and literally pulling you out of the shoes. Maybe he was right, there was no way you could happily prance about a gala in those. But before you went to pick out a different pair, you picked up the flowers.

“How did you know?” You asked, he got what you meant.

“Happy helped.” He said nervously, he didn’t know why he was so nervous. He was used to you being somewhat cold to him, but the soft tone in your voice was what got to him. The warmness in it was something he had always longed to hear from you.

“I love them, thank you,” you say, putting them on your desk as you go to your closet picking a slightly less tortuous pair of heels. As you were searching through your shoes, you tried to calm the blush you had growing on your cheeks. Who knew such a small act could mean so much to someone so lonely? Once again Peter had you rethinking everything, maybe you had been a little too mean to him. You could have responded to some of his texts. You could have not thrown that fork at him the other day. Hell you could invite him to movie night like you dad had been asking you to do ever since he joined the Avengers. Why couldn’t you just get past that stupid resentment you had towards him. It wasn’t even really towards him as much as it was everyone, he just so happened to be the one to get the brunt of the anger. He didn’t even have the short end of the stick; he had the whole ass shit stick.

Maybe you should start being nicer to him?

Maybe.

You grab your new heels and slip them on, holding out your arm for Peter to take.

“Let’s get this show on the road, Pete,” you say in a surprisingly unannoyed voice. Peter took notice and was fisting pumping the air in his head. Perfect, he knew he was going to get through to you one day.

The two of you made your way to the lobby, everyone else already there. All the Avengers catcalled and woohoo-ed, your dad even looked impressed by how well you two cleaned up.

“Nice tux, Under roos,” he said, winking at Peter. Mood immediately ruined for you, Tony simply gave you a smirk and a nod, and added a, “That color looks very nice on you, kid.”

Right when you were this close to enjoying the night with Peter and trying to put your sadness and anger aside he went and blew it. Not even a ‘wow you’re stunning, hey look everyone, my beautiful daughter has arrived’ like he used to in the past before Peter showed up. I will say you did try and not let it get to you. You plastered a smile to your face and gripped Peter’s arm a little harder than you meant to, making him flinch a little. But the rest of the group just doted on Peter and how nice he looked. And you were almost 110% certain it took him less than 20 minutes to get ready. It took you 3 hours. Come on guys, appreciate the art here.

But soon enough the limo was ready to take you all to the gala, you and Peter were last in line to hop in. Out of earshot of everyone else, Peter leaned in and whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine, “I think you outshine all the stars.”

A bit of that coldness in your heart melted just a little bit more as you muttered a ‘thank you’ and got into the limo.

The gala wasn’t as eventful as you thought it would be. When you guys got there, there was a red carpet, photos were taken, interviews were given, and by the end of that you were sweating from all the lights and cameras. You had never been one for pictures, but you did as you were told.

Inside there were a bunch of old people in various cliques across the ginormous ballroom, there wasn’t anyone dancing to the soft music playing. You had guessed because the itinerary said dinner was to be served first. This was until like any party you had ever attended, this was just a classy old person party. So you and Peter waited quietly, talking amongst yourselves about what the old people might possibly be talking about (some topics you two fools came up with were: the amount of young ladies one old man could fit into his infinity pool, anal, and various other crude topics that made the two of you giggle).

Then, dinner was finally served. You were starving, you had been saving up for this meal because you thought it would be the fanciest, most tasty food you had ever had in your life. Unfortunately, it was mediocre shrimp carbonara with rolls that were probably bought in bulk from the nearest New York. And ghastly red wine, though that might have just been you, you’re more of a pinot grigio girlie. You trudged through, with a lot of salt, it wasn’t that bad. You hated that you didn’t like it, but you had high hopes for dessert. You had heard over the old person grapevine that there was to be some kind of cheesecake, and that just might save the night.

It didn’t. Again it tasted just like some whole foods thing and you were thoroughly disappointed. For your first gala, you have to say, it was certainly not what you were expecting. Maybe you just didn’t have the same taste buds as the elderly people around you, but damn it. You wanted a good cheesecake, and honestly a really greasy pizza. You could live without the wine for now. But one bite into the cheesecake, you looked over at Peter and you could almost read his thoughts. He was thinking the exact same thing as you: dear god why are we here right now?

Finally, it was time for the real socializing and dancing, the one thing that would truly save the night.

The music was classical, which honestly you didn’t mind. It was nice and melodic and calming. Perfect for the chit chat that surrounded you and Peter as you made your way to the dance floor. You had mentioned one time that you liked dancing, plus he saw what you were doing to Taylor Swift, and the minute the tables were cleared for the dance you, he offered you his hand.

Only you didn’t notice your father and all the other Avengers that truly knew you two were watching, all with knowing looks in their eyes. Lets just say some bets were placed after you had gone to bed the night before, and Steve was winning right now. What can I say, the man has an eye for seeing through facades. (For other people, not himself, poor Steve.)

You two got close, a lot closer than you had ever been before. Arm in arm and chest to chest, you could feel his breath on you and his heart almost beating out of his chest. You looked up into those eyes you knew all too well and saw something in them you hadn’t really noticed before.

Adoration.

Hope.

Longing.

It almost threw you off your game, but you had to break the silence that was now slowly building in tension.

“What’s got your heart going, Parker?” You used to always call him by his last name before today, you were hoping to bring him back to reality a little bit with it. What his eyes were saying couldn’t possibly be true after being such an asshole to him.

“Dancing and being really close to pretty girls tend to do that to a guy,” he chuckles out, his eyes still glittering with unspoken emotions. It gets to the point where you have to glance away. Was it getting hot in here? It was definitely getting hot in here.

“It’s actually probably because of that terrible wine,” you say, swaying with him the calming music. Man you wish it were calming you now.

“Yeah that was nasty as hell.” He says, he takes the moment of you looking away to lean his head against yours, making you lean yours against his chest. Better in a way, but also worse. You could smell his cologne and boy it made you see stars. Why did he have to have good hygiene? It would make it a lot easier not to feel any type of way if he smelt like a locker room.

A silence fell over you two as you stayed like that for the remainder of the song, more comfortable now that you weren’t looking into those deep eyes. You could ignore the emotions you saw there when you had your head on his chest, just embracing the feeling of him wrapped around you and the music taking you away to some far off time. It was actually nice, just being there with him, nobody else who knew the two of you anywhere within earshot. It made you think about the possibility of being friends with Peter, maybe even letting yourself feel whatever was bubbling in your gut.

The music slowly turned into a more melancholy song, a few people shifted off the dance floor around you, changing partners and whatnot. But you and Peter stayed right there, and danced and danced and danced until it was time to go home.

The limo ride back was full of tales from the night, though you and Peter sat quietly, barely even listening to the talking going on around you two. As you all arrived home, Tony offered to let Peter spend the night, and he took your dad up on that. Tony had you lead him to the guest bedroom right across the hall from yours, and that was that it seemed.

You two bid each other an awkward goodnight, and went to your respective rooms.

Really? Was that how you were going to end the night? You had the chance to clear the air between you and Peter and yet you were only left with a lot of questions.

No- no. You were going to get answers. You didn’t even change out of your dress before you walked to your door and opened it-

Only to find Peter Parker already standing there, hand in the air about the knock.

“Oh! Hey,” you say, genuinely surprised. Great minds, am I right?

“Hey, I just wanted to- I don’t know. The food was shit, and I’m hungry, do you wanna go grab a pizza or something?” Peter says, scratching the back of his neck. If you were honest, that sounded way better than what you had in mind.

“I’d love to. Come on, I know the best pizza place in town and we can eat on the roof.” You say, grabbing your car keys off the desk, noticing the flowers once again. Remembering how nice it was to be in Peter’s arms. A realization hits you in that moment and you know exactly what you’re going to do about it.

About an hour later, bellies full and happily gazing up at the stars, you and Peter laughing to yourself about how ridiculously awful that gala was.

“They clearly had the money to get the good cheesecake, dude, what was stopping them?” Peter said, you didn’t know if it was the late night giggles or if you were finally letting yourself laugh at how blunt and goofy Peter was, but you were actually really enjoying yourself with him. You make some comment back to him, something vague as you decide it’s time to get down to business.

You sit up all of the sudden, catching Peter off guard. You look over at him and pull him up into a sitting position next to you, keeping your hands in his.

“I don’t want to bring the mood down or anything, but I wanted to say I’m sorry for how I’ve acted since I’ve met you. You’re actually a really amazing person, and you didn’t deserve any of it.” You say in a tone that felt a little too serious after the giggle fest you two just had.

“Listen, it’s okay I know I kinda just swung in and stayed. And I might have tried a little too hard to get you to be my friend. I just didn’t want you to feel left out,” he says, matching your energy. He looked you in the eyes and you know that he meant it, but you had a feeling he wasn’t saying all of it just like you. If you wanted total honesty, you had to give it. So you did.

You explained how you felt like he was your dad’s favorite, everyone’s favorite, and that’s why you were so volatile towards him. You explained that you didn’t hate him. You hated the attention he was given, and all you ever wanted was to not feel lonely. He lets you speak through all of it, listening and taking in every word. He felt bad, but he knew there was no way your dad liked him more. Tony doted on you every chance he got, so did all of the Avengers for that matter. They all adored you, just like he does.

“You know, you truly mean everything to them. All of them, not just your dad. Sure it doesn’t feel like it at times, and I’m sorry for taking up so much time with Tony, but he spends all of it talking about you. About how he wished you were there with us, and telling me so much about you. Everything he’s told me is true: you’re loving, loyal to a fault, fierce in your beliefs and what matters to you. You’re beyond brilliant, and the most gorgeous person to grace this planet. He loves you, Y/n. And I think I’m falling for you.” He rambles out, the last bit just flowing from his heart, his mouth moving faster than his brain.

The last bit stunned you into silence. It was exactly what his eyes were saying before, you just wanted to hear it out loud. For a moment, Peter thought he fucked up and was going to get drop kicked off of the roof.

You look up at the stars once more, then you look at Peter. Slowly, but not unsurely, you lean in and press a soft, warm kiss to his lips. He melts into it, all feelings of unsureness or uneasiness floating off into the night sky. He could have lived in that moment forever, finally, finally feeling at peace.

You pull away, squeezing his hands, “Peter, when I look at the stars, I see you.”

And he knew at that moment, he was yours.

#spiderman fanfic #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader

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kanmom51 · 1 year

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Those JM and JK being ‘subtle’ moments - Part 7

Part 7 of maybe (?) more to come that is.

Or...

A page from JM and JK’s book of “How do we do the couple in the group without others noticing it (or so they thought)”.

cr./to the owners of the media in this post.

Pss...don’t tell anyone, but this one is going to be on the shorter side.

Ok, so last time I addressed their sus selfies, and this time let’s address a few moments they created/decided to share with us,

The photos we discussed, now let’s talk about the posts, clips, creations.

We’ll start with the moments they created and decided to upload themselves:

Own it.

Wtf was that?

True, those innocent army’s will see an innocent dance practice. But was it really?

Just the two of them (JK is working the camera), in what looks like late at night, lights dimmed, them dancing to super elicit song and lyrics. Oh, and dare I mention woody?

youtube

Do I also mention this clip was uploaded to BangtanTV most probably by the two of them on the night following the very famous Tokyo Vlive?

Same one we have Hobi teasing JM as he leaves him ‘alone’ with the camera.

Same one JM tells us how he was craving salty all while devouring what looks like a gyoza, looking behind the camera and giggling.

Same one JM talks about how hungry he is while stuffing a sausage in his mouth, again, looking behind the camera and giggling.

Same night this specific clip was uploaded for all of us to see.

GCFT

JK’s masterpiece creation.

youtube

The one he was oh so proud of and oh so happy when he uploaded it for all of us to see.

Many choices were made, the actual footage used, the editing, the soundtrack.

As I’ve called it in the past, JK’s love ode to JM.

JK being JM’s toy

Like WHAT????

Really JM?

Why don’t you just tell the whole world, eh?

And if you already mentioned it JM, what kind of toy are we talking about here???

Euphoria studio practice JK’s birthday

Cute clip. And JM uploading it for JK’s birthday cute too.

But what were they doing, eh?

And why did he leave the smacking lips sound? Did JM not hear of editing? Or, option 2, did he not listen to the clip prior to uploading it?

Link

And the post itself...

Translated into:

Now, of course it could just be us jumping to conclusions with the sound effects, and still, the playfulness, so couplie. And JM deciding to post is a little questionable to me.

Next up, moments they created and that were decided to share, not always clear who the decision maker was nor the reasoning behind:

JM letting us know JK likes to kiss... a happy JM indeed.

How JK has changed... Used to just hear JM say the word kiss and go running to the hills (nah, just a little exaggeration here), lol.

But really, how attitudes do change...

JK wants JM, ahm...

youtube

Can’t help but wonder how this one slipped by. Yeah, I guess some could think JK is joking around, but his insistence, repeating himself time after time until JM has to stop him, telling him the audio isn’t good, lol.

JK and his buttocks fascination - again

JK and his JM fancam

I know I said not selfies today, but this one I just have to share. And I kind of think it falls within the loophole of not actually being a Jikook selfie.

JK’s hickey selfie

Ok, so why in hell did JK post this one?

I get it, it was used as leverage against JM during their JinJikook live to stop him from leaving.

Then why post it at the end?

What did JM do, or perhaps not do to bring this about? Lol.

*Special thanks to @unlyshedstar for helping me find some of these moments to share with you.

To be continued? You guys tell me.

But I do need your help. Send me moments and ideas you would like to see in this series of posts. You can leave them in the comments or DM me.

#Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jungkook #Jimin #JM #JK #Jikook not so subtle moments #Jikook subtle moments

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kyberheart · 3 years

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A Deceitful Creation Part #1 - Wolffe x F!Reader

Part #2

Summary: You’ve been trying for a while now to get pregnant with your lover. Knowing that may never happen, you ask for some outside help from Wolffe on the down-low...

Word Count: 1483

Warnings: 18+, piv sex, infidelity, pregnancy/trying for a baby, cursing, angst

A/N: Heyyyyyyyy.... I’m still here! I had some stuff going on this past week so I missed my Friday fic upload, but hey! It’s Sunday, only missed it by a few days so whatever. I’m still working on part #3 of my little Techy-boy story. Hopefully will be finished by Friday the 3rd! Heh... part #3 on the 3rd... perfect. ANYWAY I hope you like this little blurb I wrote. I wanted maximum sad with lots of OOF. I kept the summary and header as vague as possible to not spoil the end. Good luck in there!

(Ao3 Link if ya want it)

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Wolffe was different with you. All teeth and tongue and nails dug into the plump flesh of your thighs. The look adorning his eyes in this moment is akin to a knife’s edge; he was holding back as not to tear you to shreds.

Your lover on the other hand, well… he was the whisper of a cool breeze in the night. A cascading avalanche of stolen breaths and languid strokes. Completely and utterly tender with you.

“C-close Wolffe, almost…I’m—!”

He nods, stooping to kiss you, but swiftly retracts his head with a tiny scowl. He knew the rules. No marks that can’t be covered up, no pet names, and under no circumstances can he kiss you. This was just a mutually beneficial transaction. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I got you… I got you…”

He’s reaching down, down, down to make contact with your clit. You keen, dropping your head back into the mattress. He fucks you through your orgasm, spilling inside of you as your legs wrap tightly around his waist. You tremble under him as you come down from your high. In a blur of muscle-memory Wolffe is reaching behind you for a pillow. He props your hips upward with it, grinding into you a few more times to make sure his seed is in there nice and deep.

“If this isn’t the one, I’m not sure if I can help. Maybe what they say is true, maybe we’re all infertile. I mean, I’ve heard rumors of defectors running off and getting people knocked up, but…” He shrugs, pulling out of you to head into the ‘fresher. You sigh, staring at the grey ceiling above you. That really wasn’t the case. Some were infertile, yes. You knew that all too well…

“I’m headed out. I have a supply run to facilitate. You alright?”

Wolffe grunts as he snaps his scratched armor around himself. He wasn’t much for conversations after the act. Rather, he preferred to be on his merry way as fast as possible. It wasn’t so much to avoid catching feelings as it was to steer clear of talking. He was undoubtedly the most stand-offish of the clones you knew. You were often surprised at how easy it was to lure him into the bedroom with how hostile his demeanor could be. Though on second thought he was just a normal guy. Sex is just as fun for him as it is for others.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks Wolffe. If this one doesn’t stick I’ll leave you alone.”

He pauses to search your face. You smile at him, wrapping your arms around your chest with a sleepy yawn. A garbled message blips from his forearm, which he answers with a quick acknowledgement before seating his helmet onto his head.

“Understood. I’ll see you around. Say hi to my vod for me when he gets back.”

And with that, he’s silently leaving your apartment into the void beyond. In the silence of the room your mind wanders once more. You think of your lover. Where was he right now? Somewhere far, far away? Somewhere he was safe? Was he warm, fed, and happy?

The cool dribble of Wolffe’s cum down your thigh snaps you from your rumination. You glance at the clock, finding it’s already been twenty minutes since he’d left. More than enough time, you think. With a quick curl of your spine you’re up on your feet and heading to the ‘fresher for a nice long shower. Hopefully when you were out you’d have a comm or a message from your lover.

----------------- He hunches low, lips hovering so close to your ear his hot breaths could have burned a hole through your head.

“That’s it baby, such a good girl. Just a—oh, squeezing me so tight tonight, huh? This’ll be the one, the kriffing ONE. Gonna fuck you full, fill you up to bursting. Make you s-swell with my baby. Can’t wait to see you like that… all mine…”

You cum so hard the world around you dissipates into nothing but him. He growls, pitching you forward with his angled thrusts. His hips crush you into the bed as he cums right along with you. His amber eyes sizzle with freshly tapped desire. Whispered adorations mingle between the two of you, lost to the spinning darkness of the night. When you’ve calmed your heaving breaths, you reach up to grab one of the pillows above you. He helps you position it under your hips before kissing you roughly. Between pecks, he speaks with a heart full of gentle sweetness.

“I’ll keep doing this—you’ll see. We’ll have a little one running around before you know it. Our little adi’ka… yeah…”

His eyes grow distant, lips stilling at the nape of your neck. You huff, smacking his shoulder with your hand.

“I know babe, don’t worry. With how much you’ve been between my legs I think we’ll be having LOTS of them running around.”

You wink at him, leaning up to kiss him again. He chuckles, reciprocating your heavy prodding tongue with his own within your mouth.

“I just… I know we’ve been trying for over a year… what if I...”

You shoot him a frown, tilting your head up to look him straight in the eyes. The fact of the matter was daunting and sat like tepid acid on your tongue. If he knew he wasn’t able to sire children, it would truly break him.

“NO! You are perfectly fine the way you are. I’d know, remember? I’m chief medical officer here dummy. You—WE have nothing to worry about. It’ll happen when the time is right. Trust me.”

He smiles at you, the sight of which could warm even the frostiest planet of Hoth into the dunes of Tatooine. All your love, all your patience and turmoil and sympathy and curiosity and… kriff, you’re everything was him. All him, always was and always will be. Him.

-------------------- The vividness of your dream wakes you with a start. It seemed to be recurring the last few days, a memory of the last time you and your lover were together. You shake your head of the images that haunted you. If only he was home, you wouldn’t worry so much about him.

It had already been a few weeks since Wolffe had occupied your bed. A queasy feeling was beginning to settle low in your stomach. Your lover hadn’t been back in a long while, and you were starting to think something wasn’t right.

You rise to pee, realizing in the dimly lit hush of dawn that this was becoming a frequent occurrence for you. When your shirt brushes a bit too roughly against one of your nipples you yelp. Were they always so sore in the morning? Wait…

Could this be it? A surge of adrenaline hits you like a Hammerhead Corvette as you rush into the ‘fresher. Not long after, you have a small white strip laying on your counter. Your knee bobs with anticipation, head in your hands as you sit on the hard tiled floor. This might just be it!

As the lines swell in the tiny viewport, you force yourself to breathe as deeply as possible. The memory pushes it’s way to the front of your mind once more to taunt you, to make you feel a twinge of guilt at what you’ve done. With a groan you run your fingers soothingly through your hair. You knew you could do this. Joy, passion, and relief would pave over the deceit from which this baby would be born. Your lover would never know the truth, but it was unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Forging a life, a family for the two of you was all that mattered right now.

The time is up. The minutes counted down with bated breaths. A scream tears its way from your throat as you see the result:

Pregnant

Before you can have a full-blown excitement meltdown, a beeping from the other room draws your attention. Your comm sits on your nightstand, signaling you of an incoming message. The words flash on the screen as you wipe tears from your eyes:

Dropping in to save a Jedi Master on Lola Sayu. Don’t worry, should be home before your pretty little head hits the pillow. See you soon my love. My heart is yours, forever.

Oh, you were squealing with delight now. It was finally happening! For REAL! This was a dream come true. A baby… you were going to have a baby! And your lover was going to be home by the end of the day. You wanted to comm him, send him a picture of the test, yell it to the kriffing UNIVERSE that you were fulfilling a long-awaited dream. Both of you were. You calmed yourself, resolving to tell him in person when he got home.

You couldn’t wait until Echo was back!

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tobiosmilktea · 4 years

Text

umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[004] — it’s you!

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: i wrote this during my psych class cause i was bored,, also this wasn’t proofread lol

by the time iwaizumi gets home after long days at work, he would usually knock out like a light after dinner and a bath, but tonight he had more energy than anticipated. and if he was being completely honest, he was not expecting himself to be spending the rest of his night reading a random webtoon. hell, he wasn’t even planning on reading it in the first place, but his boredom got the best of him.

a sigh escapes him as he settles at his desk, finger hovering over the lime green webtoon app for a brief second before giving in. quickly, he input in his information to create an account and before long he was already bombarded with promotions of many other webtoons until he was met with the biggest one—the love cemetery: soon to become a major motion picture!

that’s it, iwaizumi thought as he clicked on the promotional advert as it redirected him to the webtoon’s table of contents. there, he reread the synopsis over again, peering slightly at its contents purely from the plain inkling of familiarity of it all.

the moment he opened the first chapter, he was immediately enticed by the art style and colors. it was as if he was suddenly transported into this world that you have created that the hours had past faster than he had anticipated. the only reason why he even looked up from his phone in the first place was due to that little white box notifying him that his phone was at the cusp dying. iwaizumi’s eyes flickered over to his clock, two in the morning, he read as he let out a sigh. despite wanting to read more of the webtoon, he knew he was going to regret staying up. never mind the fact that he needed to go into work early and even hesitating to close his phone was a good enough reason to force himself to stop.

no wonder bokuto was obsessed.

iwaizumi’s thumb hovered over the author’s handle then, “dddeities?” he whispers to himself before swiftly pressing on the link.

it was then did his familiarity was suddenly confirmed. the moment the link took him to the webtoon author’s twitter account, iwaizumi recognized your name and face within a snap. a lump formed in his throat.

he wasn’t sure what really came over him as the obvious fatigue in his eyes was nowhere to be seen. grabbing his laptop from his desk, his fingers quickly typed away on his keyboard to search up your name on youtube. once the videos loaded in, iwaizumi found himself hesitating again as the first video that was at the top of the list had your smiling face. it still had his heart thumping in his chest even after all these years.

you looked amazing and the fact the interview had just been uploaded a few hours ago had him feeling shy for a brief second. iwaizumi scoffs at himself before shaking his head, “fuck it,” he mutters to himself before clicking on the video. it wasn’t like you, his first love and ex would ever find out he had ever read your webtoon.

“hey, my name is (y/l/n) (y/n) aka dddeities and i’m the author of the webtoon, love cemetery,” your voice softly emitted from iwaizumi’s laptop at a low volume. “today i was invited by webtoon themselves to answer some of your questions you have asked me!”

iwaizumi couldn’t remember the last time he had heard your voice. it was strange hearing it after so long now that you’ve matured since the last time he had seen you—from your looks to the way you dressed, a lot of things changed. granted, you both weren’t fifteen anymore.

“the first question is from seonshines who asked, ‘how does it feel to be able to be part of love cemetery’s film production?’’ you read off the slip of paper before discarding it off to the side, “it’s genuinely a dream come true! i’ve never expected love cemetery to be popular enough to even become a film, but considering how a lot of live actions tend to flop whenever the original creator isn’t part of production, i’m really excited for this project and i have high expectations.”

still as eloquent as usual, iwaizumi thought as he didn’t even notice the smile that was melting upon his expression the more he admired you.

you grab another question from a bowl, “from iloveddd, they asked: how do you plan your webtoons? …well when i first got the idea for love cemetery, i just started plotting it out on a piece of paper. it was initially only me who started drawing, coloring, and publishing each chapter, but once it started picking up a bit, my best friend murakami kaori started co-writing it.”

“kaori?” the familiar name slipped out of iwaizumi’s lips. “i remember her,” how could he forget the girl who got you and him together in the first place?

“overall, she’s mainly the one that keeps the story a bit more interesting while another member of my team, akaashi keiji, is my editor. he’s very meticulous and knows whenever there’s a plot hole somewhere so he’s often part of the writing process as well.” you finished off your answer before continuing to the next one, “this question is from user bokutoxbaisho. they asked ‘did you know that bokuto koutarou of msby black jackals is a big fan of love cemetery?? how do you feel about it??”

hesitance radiated out of you as you awkwardly laughed.

“um...” you trailed out, “i think it’s pretty cool i guess. it’s definitely a shock considering i never thought he would be the kind of guy to be into these types of things.”

iwaizumi’s eyebrows furrowed at this. how would you know? it wasn’t like you were the type to make assumptions about people you didn’t know either. if anything, he found it a bit strange but he shook it off.

“alright the last question is from annaoopsy,” you swiftly changed the subject, “this love triangle trope is honestly one of the best ones i’ve read. it’s really a breath of fresh air for a cliché ,which comes into question, how did you come up with this romance? was it from personal experience in past relationships?”

a chuckle left your lips as you discarded the question with a pink tint appearing lightly on your cheeks.

“let’s just say first loves were a major impact to the creation of this webtoon.”

iwaizumi felt his breath suddenly hitch the moment those words left your mouth. as if a sudden downpour of each and every feeling he felt back then in high school was catching back up to him after years of suppressing them. he swallowed the lump forming in his throat as he slapped his laptop shut, “oh no.”

fun facts! —

kaori was the one who got y/n and iwaizumi together back in middle school after she tricked them into being alone together to get to them to confess

iwaizumi was the one who confessed first since y/n was a shy, art hoe™️ back then lmao

taglist: (comment or send an ask to be added!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @skyguy-peach @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogril @tiredandkindaoverworked @atsunakaashi @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @kaiju-teeth @oh-tapeworm @scrappydaisies @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae @apollochjld

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto smau #bokuto scenarios #bokuto imagines #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi smau #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi imagines

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rosecoloredbi-writes · 3 years

Text

Settle

Summary: After the death of your best friend and their spouse, you went from Godparent to Parent overnight. Now, Mio is your world. Because of this new role, you move back to Tokyo, Japan in order to keep Mio with her friends and her school, even if it means you might run into *him*.

Warnings: Mentions of stalking. Swearing probably. Cannon violence. Single parenthood. barely mentions Mio's parents passing.

Gender Neutral!Reader x Shouta Aizawa (Eventual)

Mentions of past GN!Reader x Dabi

A/N: Okay here is my first fic for My Hero Academia! I got the idea for it earlier today and figured I'd just post this first part I just finished and see if I should keep uploading. This is the first thing I've written in a while and I'm so excited to be writing again :)

It took him a moment to reorient himself, but he knew where he was going. A few more buildings and finally to his perch, he looked in to see you, and to his surprise, a child- no older than five, maybe 6, snuggled into your chest, your arms protectively around them. He stayed in his hiding spot for a while as you slept with your child. He hadn’t been informed there would be a child.

About an hour later, he noticed another person watching you in the shadows, just like he was. He would have to stay all night to make sure no one harmed you.

You controlled your breathing, not wanting the two sets of eyes to know you were awake, to know that you knew they were there. This way you had the advantage. You didn’t know what they wanted, but either way, you had a bad feeling about it.

She began to stir as the sun shone through the open window, stretching her small arms and legs before turning back to face you.

“Good morning my sunshine,” you said softly. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded her head before sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“Guess it’s time to get up, huh Mio,” you stood up and picked your girl up, giving her a squeeze as your eyes glanced around. Only one set of eyes, you realized making you shiver.

You did your best to keep to your usual routine and soon enough you were out the door, Mio's hand in yours.

The school Mio attended was used to having students whose parents were pro heroes, so you gave her teacher the signal and they knew something was up and knew not to release even to the people you had given the school the okay to. After a kiss goodbye, you headed to the market, now with your headphones on, music off.

You hummed as you looked through the isles of food, picking up the few things you needed and setting them in your basket. The bakery you worked at was out of a special type of flour you needed to bake a client’s cake with. Once everything was paid for and in tow, you noticed a red feather settled amongst the items.

Why is Hawks following me? What does he need from me and why?

You carried on with your day, hoping he hadn’t noticed that you had noticed.

That is until he came into the bakery. You ducked just in time and took a deep breath, coming back out to the front after he dinged the bell.

He was about to say something, a dumb smirk on his face, but you cut him off.

“Why are you following me?” You asked, trying your best to sound confident and brave.

His features dropped and his eyes narrowed before quickly going back to a leisurely look. “You’re better than they told me you’d be,” He finally said.

You rolled your eyes as you walked over to the little door and opened it for him, gesturing for him to follow you to the back. Once you were settled you told him to start talking.

“I really shouldn’t be telling you any of this bu-”

“I know someone else is following me,” you said, cutting him off again. “I need to know who, why, and if my daughter is in danger.”

“Straight to the point. I like a person who knows what they want,” he commented, eyebrow raised. This had you rolling your eyes again. “We don’t know why or if your daughter is going to be targeted, but we are pretty sure the League of Villains is watching you.”

You took in a sharp inhale. There was only one person who you could think of that would have joined up with them and you knew why he was watching you. You should have recognized the bright blue of his eyes. “Dabi.”

You were very quickly taken into hiding with a man you didn’t know, cause that made you feel safe and protected. But, you pulled some information out of him. For example, his name was Aizawa Shouta and he was an underground hero. His quirk allowed him to erase other people’s quirks, thus the name Eraser Head. He also had a cool capture weapon he wore as a scarf. You tried to mess with it once and it didn’t end well.

You were allowed to go pick Mio up, but you were discreetly escorted by Aizawa who was now in street clothes, hair tied up, looking like he could fall asleep at any moment.

Mio was confused as to who the man was and gave you a questioning look. “Don’t worry, he’s a friend,” you told her softly as the three of you began back to the safe house. Once there, you introduced the two.

She was tense but eventually got comfortable when she saw that you were okay.

“She’s cute,” you turn to Aizawa who is watching Mio with a soft smile on his face.

“She’s the best kid a parent could ask for,” you replied. “Her quirk,” you started slowly after a moment had gone by, “we don’t know a lot about it, but it has to do with her voice. I don’t know who it came from either. I’m not her biological parent, I was her godparent. And then her parents died and here we are. She’s only said a few words out loud and whatever happened, it scared her into staying silent.”

He nodded. “So Y/N, what is your quirk? Does it have to do with your increased senses?”

“That’s mostly learned, but I’ve always had the extra sense of knowing when I’m being watched, which has come in handy more times than you’d think.” You began rolling up your long sleeves, showing tattoos covering almost all the skin on your arms. “Creation is my main ability, but it has its drawbacks. If it’s not illustrated on my skin already, it’s painful and it drains me, which is why I’m covered in tattoos. I have weapons, items I need handy, and a few odds and ends. Now, with the tattoos, it’s almost as easy as breathing.”

Aizawa began to reach out, pausing before he made contact with your skin, looking up to you for permission. When you nodded, the pads of his fingers lightly traced several of them, following a vine up your arm to a butterfly. He looked at you inquisitively and you gently focused on it until a butterfly appeared, gently fluttering.

“Its… it’s real. You can create living things?” He asked in awe, “But how?”

You shrugged and watched as Mio noticed the flittering and watched with wonder as the butterfly landed on the sofa.

“They don’t last forever, that’s the drawback. The bigger the creation and the longer I will it, the more it takes from me. Inanimate objects are the easiest.” You reached your arm around your back and under your shirt, pulling back with it a sword.

Aizawa gently traced the ornate handle, only to jump back as Hawks entered.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” he says with a sly smile. “You figure out what their quirk is yet?” He asks Aizawa.

You turn to him with a frown. Of course, he didn’t actually care about you. You just met! Not to mention you were a part of his mission.

He has the sense to look slightly ashamed before nodding to Hawks.

“Good, now,” he says turning back to you. “Why is Dabi following you? You know more than you are letting on.” He spoke as he walked closer and closer, wings growing larger. You suppose it’s supposed to intimidate you.

You roll your eyes at him for like, the fifth time that day and brush past him. You walk over to Mio who had fallen asleep watching your butterfly. You smooth the hair out of her face before turning back to the men, giving them a warning look and asking them to keep their voices down.

“Fine,” you huffed, tired of them just staring at you, doing nothing. “I dated Dabi for a little while. Back when I was younger and foolish and my morals were… well, flexible.”

“What did you do to make him want to follow you?” Hawks was growing impatient.

“We fought, I won, he told him if I ever came back I better watch my back. I reckon he’s making good on that promise. I broke his heart, but that was so long ago. But, I mean,” you paused and looked back up at the two men who were looking at you incredulously, “he is really good at holding grudges.”

Hawks looked like he was going to have an aneurysm and Aizawa… well his face was unreadable. Except, there was a touch of something else in his eyes.

"Well you aren't going anywhere for a while," Hawks state with all the authority he could muster, still going over everything in his mind. "Better get comfy."

"No," you state clearly. Stopping everyone in their tracks.

"Excuse me?" Hawks says, stepping forward, extending his wings.

"You heard me," you reply, stepping forward yourself, fingers itching to create one of your many weapons. "If Dabi gets even a hint that y'all know and are protecting me, a whole lot more people are going to get hurt. So no, we aren't staying here. We are going to go home. If I have to have someone to guard us we are going to make it look as natural as possible. If you don't agree to my terms I'm just gonna take Mio and we are going back on the run."

Hawks looks like he wants to scream and Aizawa looks amused. You turn to pick Mio up, then you head to the door.

"Aizawa, you've been seen in public with me. You can be our guard. You'll come over at 6 tonight where we will have a meal, then you'll stay late because we drank maybe a little to much sake, then you'll sleep on the couch. Got it?"

Aizawa nods, completely amused by Hawks' bewilderment, and pats him on the back once before walking out himself.

#my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia fanfic #my hero academia fic #mha fanfiction #mha fanfic #mha fic #eraserhead x reader #eraserhead x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #eraser head #eraser head x reader

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grudgecollector · 3 years

Text

Soft Whisper of the Basket Flower | Chapter 12

Chapter Title: Limonium

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson / Fem!Reader

Story Summary: You’re an agent of the Time Variance Authority and partner to Mobius .M. Mobius. Your job is simple, help with finding the possible whereabouts of the Loki variant, and don’t get caught in the crossfire.

Words: 3.8k

Tags/Warnings: swearing, nothing else that I can think of

Authors note: Sorry for not uploading on Monday! I’m currently on vacation with my family so the only times I can actually upload are late at night.

So as a treat, I’ll be doing a double upload today to make up for Monday’s missing chapter.

STORY MASTERLIST

The cafeteria was quiet, the tables were generally empty as you and Mobius were getting a late start on eating. You just opted on getting a sandwich while Mobius got a salad which you eyed him for. Joking how you hoped nobody decided to ruin it this time, which Mobius agreed.

“Kind of wish we could go to an actual restaurant, that would be pretty cool.” You say, picking up one half of your sandwich.

Mobius chuckles softly “Yeah with what money?” He asks while pouring the dressing on his salad.

You roll your eyes and glare halfheartedly at him “Shut up.”

Mobius just shakes his head and smiles, staying silent for a minute before giving you updates on the timeline and how it was doing. Surprisingly enough things had been going smoother than you had thought they would, he also told you about all the confidential files he was able to uncover. A lot of them have to do with the employees and the creation of the TVA, which he still hasn’t gotten around to actually reading.

“How has it been for you since stepping down?” Mobius asked, “Well aside from Loki doing what he did.”

“It’s been nice.” You nod, “Being away from that desk has been really good for me.”

You both finish eating quietly, Mobius reading his magazine and you cleaning up your area and getting ready to go. You couldn’t help but notice how badly your head was hurting, a sigh slipping through your lips as you gently massaged your forehead.

“I think I’m gonna head to my apartment for the day. Check up on things, sit around for a bit, all that fun stuff.” You tell Mobius, patting him on the shoulder and sending him a small smile when he says bye to you.

The Time Door opened to your apartment, not having the energy to walk all the way to the train when you could easily do this. With one last wave to Mobius, you walk through the door and into your room in your bedroom.

It was almost as dull and lifeless as your office, only having small paintings of flowers decorating the grey wall above your dresser, which honestly just looked more depressing than inviting. It felt less like home and served more as a reminder that you never belonged here in the first place.

You set your TemPad on your dresser and walked towards the door, opening it and walking down the hall to the living room, which was surprisingly not empty. Sylvie took up residence on your couch. You could see the TemPad she was given charging on your coffee table as you walked by, making you realize why she was here.

Ever since killing He Who Remains she hasn’t stepped foot inside the TVA headquarters, when realizing this you decided to give her access to your apartment whenever she needed a place to stay, and she hadn’t really taken you up on that offer until now, which you were happy to see.

Sylvie glanced up at you briefly before going back to the book, flipping to the next page, “My TemPad almost died on me so I decided to come by and charge it while you were out.” She said.

“You’re fine.” You wave her off, one hand coming up to cup your forehead.

“So where were you? I thought you weren’t working for the TVA anymore.” She asks, leaning forward to place the book beside her charging TemPad.

You go to the kitchen, groaning at the mere thought of your trip. She closed the book and turned to look at you, watching you pull a glass bottle of water out of the fridge, your body swaying a little as you walked over to the kitchen peninsula that faced out to the living room.

“Yeah, I was planning on spending most of my day walking around New York until Loki decided to ruin it.” She raised her brows, standing up and walking quietly over to the kitchen, sitting right in at the small table in front of the large circular window.

“How many times has he enchanted someone?” You ask her.

“The only time I’ve seen him enchant anything was in The Void. Why? Did he enchant you?” She asks, confirming what you already knew.

You sigh, going over to the dining table and sitting down across from her, “Yup, he enchanted me.” you reply, placing your head in your hands with a sigh “Not only that but the memory he forced me to remember is really fucking with my head.”

“What did he do?”

“Oh nothing too big, just made me remember that I apparently have teleportation powers that hurt like hell, and that the guy in almost all of my dreams and memories has the same exact powers.” You take a swig of your water “And to top it all off I had a killer headache.”

She sits there for a second thinking “With the memory I helped you remember, it was like a little baby step into your old life, it wasn’t life changing or anything like that, just a simple easy to process memory. But with what Loki did it ruined that process and is making your brain work so much harder to fill the gaps. Enchantment is something you have to be careful with, because one wrong move and you can end up with something like this.”

You sigh, leaning your head on the table “What can I do to fix it then?”

“If you sleep with your mind working the way it is right now, you might go into a coma while being forced to relive every single moment in your life from birth up until that point.” She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back into her chair. You whip your head up to look at her with wide eyes.

“That’s a joke right?” She shakes her head “Fuck… Okay uh, I know that the past few weeks have been really rough for you. And I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to-”

“I don’t mind helping you out.” Sylvie cuts your rambling short “I’m fine. It’s just been strange adjusting to all of this. You’ve been kind to me when you haven’t had to, and I don’t exactly want to watch you be reduced to a vegitative state.” She gives you a hint of a smile, looking out the circular window that faced out to the rest of the city. “Plus I could use some fresh air.”

Sylvie stands from her chair and asks where your TemPad is “Dresser, in my room.” You answer, still resting your head on your arms, almost feeling hungover.

She comes back and stands next to you gently nudging you to stand up. She caught you when you swayed a little towards her, feeling lightheaded even after sitting for such a short amount of time. You grumble gibberish when she asks if you have any specific destination you’d want to go. A time door opens shortly after, and she pulls you through.

The sound of sloshing waves is amplified thanks to your pounding head, the sunset gentle on your eyes when you looked up and saw you were on an empty beach. The water was beautiful and the clouds in the sky were fluffy and blocking the blinding sun from shining in your eyes, glowing a pretty orange. You were in awe of the place she picked, palm trees separating the thick forest from the beach itself.

“You think this place will be good enough?” She asks, wanting your input.

“Yeah.” You nod.

Sylvie nods too, “Good, here stand back.” She says, a green blanket slowly appearing in his hands, it’s big enough for the both of you to sit on. “I’ve been practicing.”

Sylvie gave you enough time to mentally prepare yourself for what you were probably about to see. You just wanted the headache to go away, and you didn’t exactly desire going into a coma because of Loki’s negligence.

The female trickster waits for your okay, and when you give it to her she scoots closer, holding her hands out palms up, allowing you to be the one to initiate touch. You reach your hands out seconds later, your skin touching and…

The cabin was quiet except for the butterfly windchimes outside, and the kitchen sink running as you rinse your favorite mug out getting it ready for the morning. You had stayed up a lot later than you intended, getting too caught up in a movie, and by the time it went off it was almost three AM. You knew the morning would be pretty rough, and you were already mentally preparing yourself for the exhaustion of only four hours of sleep. But the tomatoes weren’t going to plant themselves and you knew River would probably end up sleeping in thanks to the few extra drinks he had.

You dried the mug and sat it down next to the coffee maker, padding softly towards the hallway that led to your room. You pushed aside the beaded curtain that separated the hallway and the living room, and walked past River’s room.

“No…” You heard, making you stop in your tracks “Please... leave them…” There was the sound of blankets being thrown around and something knocking against the wall. You walked carefully over to the door, not a stranger to River’s nightmares. There was a choked sob that came from inside, which finally made you crack the door open and peek inside just in case you had to wake him up.

River was laying on his back, the sheets thrown to the floor in a heap, and his fists clenched at his side. You were able to see tears streaming down his cheeks because of the light streaming in from the hallway, his cheeks were blotched red, and his chest was rising and falling rapidly. Finally after a few seconds he seemed to start relaxing, his hands laying flat against his bed and his breathing shallowing.

Right as you were about to close the door he shot up with a sharp gasp. His hand coming to his chest and his eyes opening, his eyes igniting into a bright blue that rushed into the surrounding veins of his eye sockets, illuminating his face with a soft light. You stared at him in shock, unsure of how to react.

Before you could even think about saying anything his glowing eyes looked right at you, widening in fear as he saw his reflection in the mirror right next to his door, knowing that his secret was finally out. When you blinked he was gone, his bed empty and the room completely silent save for your own breathing, and racing mind as you tried to piece together what just happened.

You felt yourself slump forward a bit, feeling Sylvie catch you by the shoulder before you landed face first on the blanket. The world felt like it was spinning, the memory bringing only momentary relief from the throbbing pain.

“You’re alright.” Sylvie whispers quietly “Let’s lay you down okay?” She asks, you attempt to nod but can only do as she said and start to lean back, stretching your legs out in front of you and staring up at the darkening sky. “I’m gonna keep going, just tell me when you’re ready, okay?”

“I’m ready,’ You breathe, reaching out for her hand.

It had been almost two days since River’s sudden disappearance. You hadn’t seen a sign of him anywhere, not even a glimpse of him far off in the fields. The cabin felt so empty without him. Not even gardening could get your mind off of the sudden loneliness you felt without him constantly pestering or teasing you. He was your best friend, a brother you never had, and sure the glowing eyes were a little unexpected, and however he left the room so suddenly, but that didn’t change who he was as a person.

You hang your head and stab your trowel into the soil beside your thigh, you pat the dirt off of your hands and knees, and go to walk back into the house. A sigh falls from your lips when you feel the cool breeze of the air conditioning inside, having been out in the sun for a few hours now with little to no actual progress. You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, walking past the living room and into the kitchen where your water bottle was sitting on the counter.

“I don’t understand how you can just drink room temperature water.” You heard a voice say from behind you. You yelp, spinning around with your hand on your heart. River was sitting on the couch arm facing you, a small smile on his face and his head tilted to the side, his blonde hair falling over his shoulder.

“God, give me a fucking heart attack why don’t you.” You breathe, feeling your heart pound against your chest.

“Sorry…” He says softly, his smile slowly falling from his features.

You sit your water back down on the counter, walking over to him and looking him over for any injuries “Where have you been? You’re a mess.” You say, removing a yellowing leaf from his hair.

“I was doing a lot of thinking in the woods.” He answers “I was trying to figure out the right way I could explain what exactly happened, and what you saw.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You say, smiling softly, “I’ll let you go shower and change first though.”

“You trying to say I stink?” He jokes, pushing himself off the couch and walking to his room.

You hum, nodding your head “Oh yeah dude, you smell like lake water.”

---

After River got out of the shower you made lunch, noticing that the clouds were suddenly darker outside and you could hear thunder far in the distance. You went outside and packed up your gardening tools and set them safely on the porch. When you came back inside River was already sitting comfortably on the couch, flipping through the TV channels, with a blanket draped over his lap.

“I feel like MTV doesn’t play anything but Ridiculousness.” River muses as you close the front door. “Ooh but Catfish is coming on at six, isn’t that amazing.” He says sarcastically. He finally picks something to watch, a horror movie you didn’t catch the name of but looked vaguely recognizable.

You take a seat on the couch, propping your feet up on the ottoman and taking the other blanket from the back of the couch and placing it over your own legs. The both of you just sat there comfortably, watching the movie together like you normally would any other night. You were allowing him to go at his own pace, letting him tell you about what happened to him when he feels ready. It would feel wrong to do otherwise, he was your only friend, the person you trusted most in the world, and you could want him to give you the same courtesy.

After a few hours you and River made dinner together and listened to the rain fall steadily outside. A soft patter on the living room window where you were once again sat, your legs crossed underneath you. You were facing River, scrolling through your phone when finally he spoke

“Alright I guess it’s probably time I tell you.” He sighs, maneuvering himself so he’s facing you, his legs crossed underneath him.

“I know that a lot of the stuff I’m about to tell you is going to sound completely unbelievable, but just… keep an open mind okay?” You agree, staying quiet and letting him continue “So, I grew up somewhere a lot different from here. A place that was so beautifully green your mind wouldn’t even be able to comprehend it. It was a planet called O’Lea, it had castles, floating isles, and prospering people that lived peaceful lives.

I was a part of a royal family, connected to the king who was my uncle, he was a kind man that cared for our people and strived to keep us and surrounding populations happy.” He looked down at his hands “The day I met you was also the day my people were brought to almost total extinction. A horrifying war broke out because of the greed of another king from a different planet. He sought out to kill my uncle and gain the fear and respect from neighboring planets.” River swallowed harshly. “If it weren’t for this I probably would have been hunted down and slaughtered like the rest of my people.”

He reached up to tug a necklace from his shirt, a beautiful blue teardrop crystal hanging from a silver chain. When you got a little closer to examine it, you could see a little blue and purple galaxy of stars twinkling moving around inside of it.

“Wait a second…” You said, continuing to examine the jewelry closer “This looks just like the necklace my mom gave to me when I was a kid.”

“Yeah, about that.” River chuckles before sighing, “I was hoping to tell you this differently so I was putting it off for a while. But now I really need you to listen, I would never lie to you, especially about this.” You just stare at him, anxiously waiting for him to continue his story “Twenty years before the war, the queen gave birth to an heir. A little girl that the king proudly claimed to be the future of their kingdom, the ruler who would take his place when he died. But not long after the heir was born, the king began receiving threats against his life, and the lives of his people. Not long after the king came to a decision that nearly tore my family apart.” River paused for a second, as if preparing himself to speak

“He decided the little princess would be safer far away from our planet, and even safer in a completely different universe. He had taken her to earth and placed her in the care of a kind family of farmers that he trusted, leaving a necklace much like this one in the care of the princess’ foster mother.” He looked up at you, “Your mother.”

You stared at River in slight shock. Torn between wanting to laugh out of the sheer ridiculousness of his story or believing every single word he said. There was a lump in your throat making it hard to swallow any of the information he had given you. Your eyes unfocused a little and you just stared at the necklace hanging from his neck now, an exact replica of the one you had hidden away in your room somewhere.

“You didn’t just somehow find that, and decide you wanted to pull some elaborate joke out of your ass, right?” You ask, an unknown emotion taking over you.

“I promise that everything I just told you is one hundred percent true.You can go look for your necklace yourself if you want.” He offered.

So with that you got up from the couch, heading to your room and opening the bottom drawer of your dresser, digging through the old pajamas, and finding a wooden box that had your old jewelry hidden inside. You slowly opened it, being greeted by the glittering stars inside your crystal necklace, the same ones you remember staring at every night before drifting to sleep.

You walk back into the living room, still staring down at the necklace in your hand before plopping back down in the same spot on the couch.

“How is this possible?” You ask, looking up at River.

“The necklace I’m wearing used to belong to the queen, your mother. She gave it to me just before the king went out to fight with our people, it was like she knew her fate was already written.” He sighed sadly, running a hand through his long hair. “I was helping guard the castle, trying to keep the people inside safe, but we weren’t strong enough to hold our attackers back. The necklace in your hand, the magic that was placed over it was like a beacon that led straight to you through this one.” He held up the one around his neck, “And if it wasn’t for that I’d probably be dead.”

“So that’s why you had all of those injuries when you showed up on my front porch that night.” You say “I thought you were attacked by an animal or something.”

“I mean it’s not that far off. Think of Kathros’ people as humanoid bears with wings and warped human faces.” River chuckles.

“So what about the glowing eyes thing? What’s that all about?” You ask him.

“Right, I was about to get to that.” He nods “Another thing you need to know about our people is we have a type of special power. One that isn’t harmful to others but useful to us in the long run.” He takes a deep breath, looking at you.

You notice his begin to change from gold to blue, they get brighter, the glow slowly lighting up the veins around his eyes, his eyes glow a beautiful sapphire, almost sparkling like the galaxy in your twin necklaces.

Suddenly when you blinked he was gone, making your heart pick up pace in your chest, “Boo.” You heard River whisper into your ear from behind. You yelped, your head whipping back to look at him but he was already gone. The couch springs creaked, and you turned your head to see him sitting back in his place.

“What the actual fuck just happened.” You ask, staring at him with wide eyes “What are you like… able to teleport or some shit?”

River merely nods, smiling at you “Basically, but that’s child’s play compared to what I’m about to tell you.” He says “When I say our people’s power is unique, what I mean is we’re able to travel between universes. That’s how we’re both safe here, your father thought it would be smart to put you in the farthest universe possible. It’s the last place any of our people would go because of how impossible it is to get here.”

“And the only way you were able to get here is because of that necklace.” You ask him, pointing at the object in question.

“Essentially, yes. While I could have gone to any universe I wanted, I knew that since we’re the last of our people it would be safest if we stuck together, and so I could fulfil your father’s wish for me to protect you. And it was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

You slowly opened your eyes, blinking up at the stars twinkling above both Sylvie and you. One silent tear slipped from your eye, relief as you felt the headache finally begin to go away. Enough of the gap in your memories had been filled so now you could rest without fear of going into a coma.

“How do you feel?” Sylvie asks as she helps you sit up.

“I’m not sure…” You whisper, unable to look away from the stars.

#violet writes #swotbf #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki laufeyson imagine #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki reader insert #loki/reader #marvel imagine #marvel reader insert #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel #loki #loki tv

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deepdarkdelights · 4 years

Text

The Darkness of The Night (Namjoon x Reader)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Blood, Gore, Non-Consensual touching (Reader is asleep, nothing innately sexual occurs)

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: He was in a deep, bottomless love. His sweet angel, stained in his blood was a sight that he was blessed to see. He never wanted to live again if it meant he couldn’t have her and if he couldn’t have the delirium she gave him. They were connected now, he had never felt closer to anyone in his life, he couldn’t even think about ever being near someone else if she wasn’t his. What began so innocently evolved into something dark and twisted: the creation of a monster.

A/N: Hello! This will be the first post I am making to my brand new blog! Please be gentle with me, I have not written and uploaded something to any platform in around four years now I believe. Despite saying that, I am open to constructive criticism and would love to see what anyone thinks about this (if it gets seen lmao) and make changes to my writing where you see fit! Thank you for giving me a chance and reading my work, I hope to see you in the comments!

“She’s so beautiful.” He thought to himself. And she truly was. But, her beauty did not reside in her looks as much as it resided in her pain. He found her pain to be achingly beautiful. She was so desperately calling out for someone to love her, for someone to answer the sweet calls of her anguish and recognize it’s melody. To him, he was the only one that could respond. He was the only one that was worthy of her presence and her pain, even if just barely. Because, to him, she was an angel. An angel shackled by her agony and trapped on earth, waiting.

It all started innocently enough. It first began with his longing gaze and fleeting moments between them. Merely passing her in the hallways on campus was enough to give him a rush, flooding his body in ecstasy. She was a drug, something that starts in small doses but quickly becomes not nearly enough. Her very being demanded his attention, demanded that he see her and crave her.

Her.

What was once a simple word now represented his incapability of even breathing without thinking about her.

The first time he saw her, she was alone and she was crying. Unbeknownst to him, at the time, this was simply one of many breakdowns that had occurred that week. His angel was so frail, so hurt, and so unbelievably scared. What he would give to stop those tears, to hold her close, and to never allow anyone to hurt her ever again. But he was him, and she was her. He was so…awkward. How could someone like her ever even give him the time of day? He had nothing to offer her, nothing to help her. But how long could he hold out, how long could he stop himself from taking things too far? The answer was not long.

Seeing her in the hallways proved to not be enough. This developed into him working in admissions just so he could find her class schedule, to know where she was at all times of the day. And that quickly evolved into him dropping his classes to be with her.

Academic Writing 112, she sat in the far right of the seventh row with a seat left unoccupied next to her. It didn’t stay that way for long, and at the time that was the boldest move he had made: sitting next to her. His body vibrated with anxiety as the chair scrapped against the flooring, his backpack thudding loudly beside him. Her head jerked slightly at the noise, her eyes flicking quickly to him and back to the front of the room as she raised her hand to settle over her mouth.

“She looked at me.” He thought, his heart pounding in response. God, her eyes were perfect. They were deep and frightened, but so perfect. Those fleeting moments were what he lived for, just being next to her felt like a privilege. What he would give just to have her look at him, and him only, forever with those gorgeous eyes.

No words were passed between them. He was too awkward, and she was in too much pain.

The next step he took were the pictures. Everywhere she went, he took pictures. He had all different kinds of pictures, some were of her studying, some of her crying, some of her undressing, and some of her sleeping. His phone’s gallery quickly became devoted to her, she was everywhere he went because he followed her wherever she went. To him, these pictures were meant to help, to alleviate the ache that was deeply rooted in his chest whenever he couldn’t see her. But if anything, the ache deepened and formed a wound that festered as his sick love grew.

His beautiful angel that didn’t notice him made him sicker and sicker as each day passed. And as he grew sicker, her pain became torture. Everywhere she went, she felt eyes following her. There was an inescapable force constantly following her, constantly letting her know her downfall was being spectated. This constant spiral downwards was being watched no matter where she attempted to escape to.

Time stretched on and soon the pictures just weren’t enough. He needed her, he needed more of her. It wasn’t long before he began breaking into her apartment. He sacrificed not seeing her, so he could have pieces of her. The fire-escape led directly to her room and the broken air conditioning resulted in an unlocked and open window. It wasn’t hard for him to prevent traces of his presence. He carefully removed his shoes before entering, so that no prints would alert his angel of his being there. His first action was always directed to her bed. He would press himself against her sheets and inhale lungfuls of her scent, rubbing his face against her pillows like a cat. Shivers would wrack his body as his fists clenched the sheets beneath him. She was intoxicating, she was his drug, his angel.

His next course of action was her hamper. He only permitted himself to take one item per month, it was less suspicious that way but also rather difficult. Last month, he had taken her sleep shirt. It was baggy and smelled like her. When he slept in his own bed he would hold it tightly to him, picturing it was her, that she was there with him like she should be. This month, he took what he had held out on for so long, her panties. His cheeks were stained red as he carefully removed the used pair from her hamper.

“Fuck.” He whispered, his hands trembling as he quickly pocketed the item. He couldn’t get too distracted now, he only had so much time.

Each visit was becoming riskier, he was sure she noticed the missing articles of clothing, even if he had limited himself. It was only a matter of time before she found him out, or before she contacted someone and put an end to his visits. And he couldn’t have that, this was his way of being close to her, of being with her.

He knew what he was doing was wrong, because God, it was beyond fucked up. But he needed her. He needed her more than air, more than anything else in his life. He would gladly drop to his knees and kiss the fucking ground she walked upon if she asked him with those beautiful, pained eyes of hers.

And from there, things only got worse. Soon enough, he was watching her sleep nearly every night. He would follow the same procedure as he did with his daytime visits, but this time veiled in the darkness of the night. If she was beautiful in the daytime, she was damn near ethereal in the dark. Her perfect lips parted as her chest rose and fell with relaxed breaths, her hair sprawled around her on her pillows in a halo, like an angel. His angel. The scooped neck of her shirt revealed her smooth collarbones and shining skin, the moonlight highlighting her face perfectly. She was so tempting, and so painfully unaware of her intruder. He inched closer to her bed, fingers delicately brushing her sheets as he itched to caress the skin of her face and the gentle slope of her neck. Would she wake up if he touched her? Would those plush lips part in a scream and those deep eyes widen in fear?

Did he want that?

A soft huff of air left her lips as she wriggled in her sleep, his body tensing in fear that she would wake. He kept still and quiet for a few moments, making sure that she was still submerged in a deep sleep. The silence rang in his ears as he watched her settle down, relaxing into the warmth of her covers. He quietly stepped closer, observing her sweet sleeping face once more. He gently rested a hand on the bed and lowered himself down next to her, the mattress dipping under his weight. She didn’t move, only her chest continued its steady rise and fall with each breath she took. He slowly reached a hand out and gently caressed her cheek, pulling her hair away from her face. His hand still rested as light as a feather on her face, his thumb gently swiping back and forth over the smooth stretch of skin. He hadn’t realized before, but now he noticed just how close his face rested beside hers.

“What would she do if I kissed her?” He wondered, his fingers still stroking her face yet just barely touching her as to not rouse her from her slumber.

“One kiss wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?” He mused, leaning in even closer to her. And then he kissed her, so lightly it was like a breeze brushing over her. His fingers paused their ministrations as his eyes slipped closed, leaning into the inviting warmth of her soft lips. It was like heaven. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, threatening to crash straight through his rib-cage as his lips moved ever so softly against her still ones. What happened in mere seconds felt like the meeting of heaven and hell, his sweet, broken angel lying blissfully unaware beneath him. He swiftly pulled back, his breaths coming out in sharp and fast pants. His angel still slept, unaware of the intruder by her side.

She was addictive and undoubtedly his.

The next day, she never showed up to class. The seat to his right was empty, a stark reminder of her absence. She wasn’t in the library, or at the coffee shop where she spent her time after classes. So, she had to be at home. Could he risk visiting her while she was awake? Would he be able to sneak in without her noticing, or would he have to come up with a different approach, one that would be wildly different in comparison to all the actions he had taken up to this point?

That was how he found himself at her front door instead of her window. He took a deep breath and shook himself out, his trembling fist hesitating before it finally connected with the wood of the flimsy door. At first, he was met with silence. And then he could hear her. She was stumbling through her apartment, making her way to the door, making her way to him.

“Who - who’s there?” She croaked, her voice rough and dry like she had just been crying. Had his angel been crying again? Of course he fucking missed it.

“Hello?” She called again after the stretch of silence.

“(Y/N)? It’s Namjoon, from academic writing.” He replied, his voice far calmer than he actually felt. He was finally talking to her.

There was silence for a moment and then the clattering of metal before the door opened, it was wide enough for him to see her eyes and nose, but the rest of her was obscured from his sight. He felt a tug of disappointment in his gut at only being able to see so little of her.

“What do you want?” She asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took him in.

“You weren’t in class today so I grabbed what you missed. I figured I’d bring it to you so you wouldn't fall behind.” He replied, his heartbeat quickening, this was the most they had ever spoken to one another in all the time he had known her.

She blinked slowly as silence settled between them. After a few moments she slammed the door completely shut, undoing the door chain before opening it fully. She was breathtaking. Her hair was slightly mussed from sleep and her eyes were puffy with deep bruises settled beneath them. The shirt she wore was two sizes too big and wrinkled, hanging limply off one of her shoulders. Her lips looked cracked and dry, like she was dehydrated or maybe even sick. But she was stunning to him.

“Well?” She said, shaking her head slightly. “Where is it?”

“Oh! Oh, right…” He trailed off, jerking his bag off of his shoulder and removing the requested items, handing them off to her. Not once did she move from behind the door frame, staying in the darkness of her apartment. Not one light was on and not one curtain was open. It was practically night in the depths of her home. Her delicate hands, he noticed, were gripping the door tightly, the skin stretching painfully across her knuckles like she was anchoring herself down.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” He asked, his gaze giving her a once over again. There was a beat of silence before she responded.

“Go home, Namjoon.” And then the door was slammed shut once more.

He didn’t listen to her.

When the sun had set and the moon hung high in the dead of the night, he found himself at her apartment again. This time, he was where he was comfortable: settled outside her cracked open window and removing his shoes. He needed to make up for the time he had lost with her that day. Speaking to her was exhilarating, it gave him almost as much of a rush when he kissed her. But still, he needed more of her.

He slid inside her room again, finding his footing expertly before creeping towards her once more. She was still as gorgeous as she had been when he saw her earlier, her face no longer pinched in agitation but smooth and relaxed in the throes of sleep. He settled beside her, as he did often, and set to caressing her hair as she slumbered on. It was unfair how beautiful she was, how perfect she was every time he saw her. What he would give to be here with her, always soothing her as she slept. He could only hope that one day he could be next to her when she woke, that she would want him to be there with her, that she would want him. What would it take for her to be his completely? To surrender to him as he had to her?

That fantasy crumbled as fast as it had come to his mind. It had happened so quickly and so unexpectedly, a crash from the alley outside echoing through the open window into her room. She jerked awake, her breathing quick and confused as she propped herself up on her elbows. His heart stopped as her eyes met his in the dark. With a screech she threw herself from the bed, falling to her back on the ground.

“(Y/N)?!” He cried, rising from his place and running to her side as she struggled to stand.

“Stay the fuck away from me!” She yelled, shakily standing as she stepped backwards, watching him while trying to find the door, her hand cupped over her nose and mouth. Had she hurt herself?

“(Y/N), sweetheart, please calm down! You don’t understand!” He cried, as he launched himself forward, grasping her wrists in an attempt to stop her from leaving.

“Don’t! Don’t touch me!” She yelled, violently thrashing against his hold as he pulled her into his chest, pinning her against him. Her breathing was labored and fast as she continued to struggle.

“Baby, please, I’m not here to hurt you! I love you so much, I would never hurt you!” He persisted, muscles tensing with strain as he attempted to keep her close to him, to force her to listen. “Please, I need you to listen to me! It’s okay!”

“You fucking perv! Let go of me before I can’t stop it!” She groaned, her head dropping causing her forehead to brush against his chest, his heart beating louder and faster than before.

“I’m not - I’m not a perv, don’t say that.” He begged, his eyes welling up with tears as his grip tightened even more around her. “I’m here because I was protecting you, you’re so precious to me I just can’t stand the thought of you being alone, here, without me.”

Her head was slightly rocking back and forth, her breaths even and paced as her body shuddered under his touch. She remained silent as he continued, his words blurring into static in her ears as his heartbeat pounded in her head. The steady, rhythmic beats vibrated in her ears and skull.

Her mouth watered.

She was hungry, so fucking hungry.

“Baby? Are you listening?” He whispered to her, cupping her cheeks to lift her face from his chest to meet his gaze. In a matter of seconds she had him pinned, his body forced down onto the mattress as she straddled his waist. The confusion plastered on his face quickly contorted to pain as she yanked his head to the side, her jaw snapping down and locking on his neck, blood rushing forth, hot and thick running down her throat. She moaned in delight as he shivered in pain beneath her. He groaned deeply as his hands came up to rest on her hips, pulling her tighter against him, relishing in the pain she was giving him, her pain that she was giving him. She continued to feed from him, unbothered by the soft strokes of his hands over her hips, encouraging her to continue.

He was in shock, he was in pain, and he was also in a deep, bottomless love. His sweet angel, stained in his blood was a sight that he was blessed to see. He never wanted to live again if it meant he couldn’t have her and if he couldn’t have the delirium she gave him. They were connected now, he had never felt closer to anyone in his life, he couldn’t even think about ever being near someone else if she wasn’t his.

Her body squirmed above him, groaning deeply as she sunk her teeth into his flesh even harder, forcing the blood to pool into her waiting mouth. His hands continued to softly stroke the exposed skin of her hips, relishing in the closeness of their bodies. He must be so sick to be enjoying this, to accept this so easily. But if he was sick he hoped there was no cure.

Her jaw finally relaxed allowing her sharp incisors to slip free from his throat. Soft pants left her body as her head rested in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. She felt like she was drunk, a soft purr like noise rumbling in her chest as she laid limply on top of him, spiraling in her high.

He was tired, his body heavy like lead. Still, he raised his hands to settle on her back and softly rub circles into her skin. He knew he had lost far too much blood, his vision was already beginning to blur, black spots starting to obstruct his view of his angel. If only he could stay awake forever so that he never had to live for a moment without seeing her. Her body rose from his, her delicate hands grasping his shoulders to allow her to sit upright on his hips. The sight of her was euphoria inducing. Blood stained her sweet lips and rolled down the smooth column of her neck, coming to rest at her decolletage. Her hair was as wild as her doe-like eyes, shining with tears that began to slowly run a path down the slope of her cheeks.

“Namjoon?” She whispered. She seemed confused, like a fog lifted that had previously clouded her memory. One of her hands shakily raised to her face, dragging through the fresh blood that painted her skin. She slowly brought her hand into the moonlight, revealing the shining, scarlet blood.

“What happened? What - what did I do?!” She cried, her bloody hands curling around his shirt to shake him, attempting to keep him awake and responsive.

His eyes were now feeling as heavy as his body, it was difficult to keep them open but he so desperately wanted to see his sweet angel, glowing red in the soft light. His eyes fluttered as he tried to stay awake, fighting the fatigue that was washing over him, but he couldn’t fight his own body. Slowly, his eyes drifted shut, his lashes coming to rest delicately on the crests of his cheeks. He could still hear her and feel her, her cries were loud and her body shook with violent sobs as she tried to keep him with her.

And as he drifted, all he could think was: “She’s so beautiful.”

#bts #bts namjoon #bts x reader #namjoon #kim namjoon #rm #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader #rm x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere namjoon #bts fanfic #yandere namjoon x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found (Fifteen)

Tony planning for the inevitable and finally finding some answers. *cue the music and make it pearl clutchingly dramatic*. I have about a thousand reasons why I love this chapter, but I’ll put those in the notes at the bottom!

Super brief mention of past drug use in this one, as well as verse typical anxiety/mania

MASTERLIST

****************

64%

“JARVIS.” Tony tossed the monitor into the desk drawer and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Where’d we get with the facial recognition program for James with the addition of the Pierce angle?”

“Nowhere at all, sir.”

“Right. Right I knew that.” Tony did know that, he remembered having this discussion yesterday-- the day before?-- and being just as frustrated as he was right now. “Okay listen, scrap that search and start another.”

“Parameters?”

“Narrow it down to the Tri-State area, specifically Brooklyn.” Dum-E beeped over with one of his shakes in a horrifying seventy-two ounce amount, and Tony sighed and patted the robot in a fond-if-not-begrudging thank you. “Get out of the military branches and start searching for family members. I’m not looking for James anymore, I’m looking for someone related to James. Next of kin, anything like that.”

“Yes sir.”

“Expand it outside of male, let’s find a sister, maybe his mom.” Tony unscrewed the lid and gulped at the horrible stuff. “I’d settle for a cousin and a long lost Auntie. Dial back the points on the recognition software so it’s not quite so specific. Sometimes siblings look a lot alike, sometimes they don’t. If it’s a half sibling, they might only share a common nose or both got Dad’s unfortunate ears.”

“You consider James’s ears unfortunate, sir?”

“Nothing about that man is unfortunate.”

JARVIS did one of those purposefully long silences followed by an almost impatient sounding click, and Tony smiled. He’d done the right thing modeling the AI after the unflappably loyal butler/driver/body guard that had been his constant childhood companion. The real Jarvis would have responded exactly the same-- a purposefully long silence, and then a click of his tongue before changing the subject and suddenly Tony missed the old butler enough to make his chest hurt.

“Run program for James and while you’re at it, look up Edwin Jarvis relatives and let me know if they’re doing okay. If he’s got a direct grandkid going to college or something, let’s make it happen. Pretty sure Jarvis is the only reason I survived long enough to make it to college, least I could do is return the favor.”

“Yes sir.”

“Thank you.” Tony drummed his fingers on the desk absentmindedly. “Did we ever get bank accounts created for James?”

“Ms. Potts saw to their creation when you first arrived back in Malibu from D.C.”

“Run the Ghost Protocol file list and double check everything.” Tony held up his hand towards Dum-E and the robot rushed forward to bump into him affectionately, nearly pushing Tony right out of chair. “How are you simultaneously the worst robot and funniest dog in the world?” he asked the machine and Dum-E only beeped and waved at him. “Right. My fault cos I programmed you. What was I thinking?”

“Ghost Protocol file list ready, sir.”

“Set up recurring payments into James’s account from one of my trust funds.” Tony instructed. “I don’t care which fund it comes from, just make it irrevocable. We also need to make sure he’s on the company insurance plan so he has access to our doctors.”

“Of course.”

“Did we give Happy a raise?” Tony grit his teeth and took another drink. “What about his pension plan? Is it set up okay?”

“Both Mr. Hogan and Ms. Potts have a pension plan even the president would be jealous of.”

“That’s good.” Tony smiled again. “No, that’s-- that’s good. I want to make sure they’re taken care of. Rhodey too? What about Mama Rhodes, have we been keeping up on her money in case anything happens to him?”

“Within the files of Ghost Protocol, you have taken the necessary steps to ensure each of your loved ones are well taken care of in the event of anything catastrophic.”

“I won’t let this be catastrophic.” Tony muttered grimly, pushing at the reactor where it sat heavy in his chest. “I’m not going to let this thing be catastrophic.”

“And how do you plan to do ensure that, sir?”

“You let me worry about that.” He pulled up the specs of James’s new arm so he had something to look at while drinking the green sludge. “Close Ghost Protocol. Open new file. Have you been running continuous diagnostics on James’s arm?”

“Honestly, sometimes I think you doubt the abilities you hand coded into my system.”

“Right yeah that’s--” Tony scrubbed at his face wearily. “Of course you’re on it. Wish I could write you a retirement plan, J. You deserve something good after all this. Maybe I’ll download you into NASA, wouldn’t that be fun? Controlling space ships and all that sort of thing?”

“The only reason for me to go to space would be to guide you on your way, sir and it would be an honor to do so.”

“...Thanks, J.”

************

Tony didn’t mean to fall asleep on the desk. It was certainly the least comfortable spot he’d fallen asleep at recently, the cold metal was no match for James’s arms or even the solid line of the soldier’s chest. His neck would hurt when he woke up, his back would twinge from being slumped over in the chair and his face would no doubt have unattractive creases from his shirt sleeve but Tony fell asleep all the same.

He was exhausted. Always always exhausted. The whirlwind round of sight seeing he’d done with James over the last week or so had been physically as well as mentally taxing, the nagging feeling that he was ignoring more important things like world peace and suit upgrades was wearing on his mind. The numbers on the monitor certainly didn’t help anything and neither did the increasingly often, increasingly intense rounds of...of making love...

...there it was. No other word for it. Far past hooking up, far past just sex. The way they moved together was making love, the way James held him close and gasped his name was making love. The way Tony felt afterwards when James pressed soft kisses to his scars and he did the same to the mottled skin where prosthesis met flesh…

Christ, Tony hadn’t known it would ever be like this.

He hadn’t known it could be like this.

Twenty five years Tony had been waiting to find the courage to even try and now every step forward with James was a step closer to running out of time.

So he slept, hunched over and uncomfortable and exhausted on the desk in the lab because all the best things he’d been doing lately were more than likely killing him faster.

C’est la vie.

Que sera, sera.

It was quiet in the house.

James was out with Happy cos somehow the ex soldier and driver/bodyguard had struck up something of a friendship that revolved around food and Happy cheating at mini golf. James had tipped Tony’s chin up and smiled down at him before leaving, “I could ditch Happy and you and me could go get lost together, sugar.” and Tony had wrapped his hand around the immovable left wrist and forced back a plea to stay and joked instead, “Getting lost with you sounds fun, but you do not want Happy coming after you with a putt-putt nine iron for standing him up.”

James’s goodbye kiss had been soft and sweet and packed full of promises Tony desperately wished he would have time to cash in on, but even as he waved his soldier and Happy down the driveway, the kiss faded from his lips and just left him cold. He was getting worse and he knew it, if the numbers on the monitor didn’t prove it, the increasing fatigue and bone deep pain certainly did. God Tony would love to get lost with James and see all the things they could find together, but he had things to check off his list before it was too late and that’s why he was in the lab alone working on the Ghost Protocol.

He had to finish before it was too late.

Besides, the quiet was sort of nice.

Pepper was out doing whatever she did that made sure Stark Industries didn’t collapse, being powerful and beautiful and so much more competent than Tony had ever been simply because she cared. Tony knew what they were saying about Pepper, about how she wasn’t qualified to run Stark Industries and how there could only be one reason why she got the job... and yes, there was only one reason why Pepper got the job. She was the only person in the entire world Tony knew could do it perfectly.

Plus, she deserved it. Pepper deserved the company and all the money and prestige that came along with it because she had helped carry him through some of the darkest moments possible and that was something Tony could never repay her for.

Just like he could never repay Rhodey, who was off being the world’s greatest hero, or Happy who had been Tony’s confidant on many many drunken nights when all his walls came down and he sobbed his heartbreak out all over the backseat of the limo.

Tony couldn’t repay the people he loved so much, but he could make sure they were okay after he was gone and that’s what Ghost Protocol was all about.

So Tony drifted while the world went on around him, dozed in the quiet while JARVIS uploaded the most recent design changes to what would be Rhodey’s suit while simultaneously running programs to see if there was any hope of finding even a distant relative of James so he wouldn’t be left alone.

Tony didn’t want James to ever be alone, not again, not after they’d found--

*beep beep*

“JARVIS.” Tony's head jerked up, mind skittering and scrambling trying to land on exactly what the noise meant. There were so many noises and alarms set in his lab. Was a project done? Was it time to check his blood? To take another drink? What was he supposed to be doing?

It felt like the times he’d done coke in his college days, where everyone else swore the drug focused them but all it did to Tony’s already high functioning mind was crash and burn and scatter his most basic thought processes. It was like a train wreck and Tony was wavering between tired enough to pass out and edging towards manic with the need to keep going keep going keep going and it just wasn’t working.

“What is that--that is-- we are--the noise--- fuck!” Tony crashed his hand down on the desk and swore out loud. “Damn it, JARVIS. Please tell me what’s going on. I can’t--” he forced out a breath. “I can’t do it. Help me.”

“Allow me, sir.” JARVIS interrupted smoothly, and Tony rubbed at his eyes in frustration because he just couldn’t concentrate. “It would seem we have found a match within our search for James’s identity.”

“Wait.” That certainly brought his mind into laser sharp focus. “What? Already?”

“Apparently the new parameters proved far more fruitful than our original endeavors.”

A picture popped up on the fold down screen of a young man with glasses, a neatly trimmed beard and a pair of unmistakably piercing, pale eyes that were all the more startling against his olive skin.

“Oh my god.” Tony zoomed in on the picture, stared deep into the same gaze he saw every morning. “Find a lineage. Mom, Dad, I don’t care. Trace it until we find James.”

“Searching, sir.”

*ping* “Last name Adams, first name Scott. Maternal name leads to a divorce, maiden name Proctor.”

“Proctor.” Tony repeated. “Switch to a new screen and search under Scott Proctor. He looks the right age to be James’s brother or cousin.”

*ping* “Proctor, Scott, age twenty seven. Maternal line leads to Ramon, paternal line continues Proctor.”

“Continue searching Proctor, we should be getting close.” Tony’s skin was nearly crawling with anticipation, his mind stuttering as it leapt from fact to conclusion, fact to conclusion. Finding someone who was so clearly related to James-- no way those eyes belonged to anyone else-- and was the right age to only be a sibling or a cousin. They were getting close.

This was good, this was good because now there would be family, someone to help James after Tony was gone, someone to soften the blow of loss.

--if it was loss, that is. If James considered not having Tony anymore to be a loss and Tony wasn’t-- he wasn’t entirely sure. Yes, he’d gotten to the point where he couldn’t kid himself about his own feelings anymore. And yes, he and James had been working on being vulnerable and being open but Tony knew he’d never be vulnerable and open enough to ask for love.

Not-- not love. Not for him. Not after only a few months, not when asking for love when James barely knew himself would almost be cruel, not when Tony would always wonder if James would say yes because it was true or because he knew something was wrong with Tony and figured he wouldn’t have to make good on that particular promise.

No, not love. Tony couldn’t ask for that.

He wasn’t brave enough for that.

And he knew James knew something was wrong and that Tony was lying every time he said “It’s okay.” James knew he was lying just like Pepper and Rhodey and Happy knew he was lying but that was okay. It was. Tony wasn’t going to let goodbye be awful for them, wasn’t going to let it be catastrophic, so he would keep right on lying and right on not asking for love up until everyone figured out the real truth.

I won’t let this be catastrophic.

*ping* “Proctor, James--”

“Holy shit, here we go.”

“-- deceased. Passed away of natural causes in 1991, survived by his ex wife and his son, Scott Proctor.”

“What?” Tony frowned and shook his head. “No, that’s not right. Okay, James isn’t immediate family with the Proctors. Keep expanding the search but keep them up on this screen, there has to be something here. No way that kid looks so much like James for no good reason.”

*ping* Proctor James, child of Rebecca P. Proctor nee Barnes, deceased--”

“--that’s going back too far, J. I need something from this century please.”

“--1964, survived by her son James and an unnamed daughter, grandson Scott Proctor. Also of note--”

“J, this is a waste of time!” Tony threw up his hands in exasperation. “I don’t want to hear about people who died before I was born! I said expand the search not deepen the search! Maybe it’s an adoption or a couple divorces down the line but please keep it with in the last forty years, I need something concrete! I need something real! James can’t be left alone after I--”

“--Rebecca Proctor Barnes was ALSO assumed survived by her brother, former Sergeant in the United States Army James Buchanan Barnes, who went missing in action--”

“-- in March of 1945 after he fell off a Hydra owned train while on a mission with Captain Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America. Sergeant Barnes is the only one of the Howling Commandos to not return home at the end of the war and is listed as missing, presumed killed in action.”

Tony recited the fact before he caught himself, the information rattling off his tongue like it had done so many times before when he’d visited the Smithsonian as a kid and learned all about the Howling Commandos and Captain America and the intrepid...Sergeant… Barnes…

...too late, Tony’s mind finally caught up, crashed into a wall of facts and splintered into an unbelievable realization.

No no no.

“J?” No. “A picture of Sergeant Barnes please?”

An enlistment photo of mid twenties James Buchanan Barnes, blue eyes and dark hair and the hint of a devilish smirk that promised the soon to be Sergeant was going to change the world.

“Christ.” Tony’s mouth went dry, his fingers white on the table. “And-- and up against a picture of James?”

Another photo, one from the redwoods where Tony had caught James looking up at the trees in awe. The soldier had turned at the last minute to stare into the camera, striking blue eyes and shoulder length dark hair and the hint of a devilish smirk that promised he was going to change Tony’s world.

No.

It wasn’t possible.

“The footage from my racing helmet in Monaco. Give me anything from the dash cam as well and from the suit. CC TV, anything possible. Compile it all, now.”

It came in pieces as JARVIS tapped the Grand Prix security footage, as he searched the vault of Iron Man helmet recordings and the downloaded information from the car’s camera and each image went up besides the photo of Sergeant Barnes for comparison.

-- James vaulting the twelve foot fence like it was nothing and denting the concrete when he landed.

--James racing down the road almost too fast to be tracked as he ran to save Tony.

--James taking the brunt of Vanko’s rage and pushing Tony behind him.

--James taking an electrified whip to his left arm and shaking with the pain.

--James grabbing the whip with his right hand and yanking Vanko towards him for a nose shattering punch.

--James later in the crowd with no marks or scars or burns to be seen.

James.

Sergeant Barnes.

Bucky.

“Search my Dad’s files, anything I’ve uploaded, all the server dumps I did when we moved the last of it from the New York apartment.”

For the first time in months, Tony’s mind was operating at lightning speed, data snapping together click click click even if he couldn’t quite comprehend it all yet. Almost manic, almost overwhelming but he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, had to know everything right now.

“I want everything about Project Rebirth, everything about the illegal mission Dad flew to Azzano to drop Big Blonde and Stupid off behind enemy lines. Everything.”

“Downloading, sir.”

Page after page flitted across the screens, the official reports of Project Rebirth, the confidential mostly redacted pages and the un official reports of anyone gathered that fateful day Steven Grant Rogers went from a scrawny Brooklyn punk to the red white and gorgeous hunk of patriotism they turned him into.

Official reports of the Azzano rescue detailing soldiers lost and wounded, the number returned home, how many days it had taken to bring them back. A furious letter from Colonel Phillips about the sheer disrespect of the man in tights had shown him and the Army in general.

A note from Auntie Peggy about how it had been entirely her fault to steal the plane and not Stark’s no matter how he bragged, and honestly how could she expected to say no to someone with a smile like Captain Rogers?

Howard’s admission of guilt for helping take the plane and dropping the Captain off behind enemy lines and yes, he’d tried to also take the plane somewhere to get fondue.

The unofficial report of Azzano written in Captain Rogers’ own hand about how he’d found Sergeant Barnes strapped down to a table in a rudimentary lab. About the empty vials and the puncture marks in Bucky’s skin. How he was positive Sergeant Barnes had snapped a rifle in half in his hands but in the heat of the moment he couldn't be sure, he highly recommended they run additional tests to see if the Sergeant had been injected with anything. Johann Schmidt had access to the super soldier serum, was there any possible they were using a version to experiment on prisoners of war...?

“Jesus.”

It was too much information.

Mission dossiers, the incredible feats the Commandos had accomplished with Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes leading them into battle. Victories attributed to the super soldier serum that made Steve Rogers Captain America, but at second glance maybe it wasn’t just Captain America.

The Sergeant racked up an incredible amount of kills-- sniper shots made with nothing more than a simple rifle that professional snipers today had trouble matching. Hand to hand combat where he was bested only by the Captain. The ability to seemingly go for days without rest and that’s why the Commandos were an unstoppable force. Who needed sleep? Not Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers apparently.

Too much information.

The fateful fall from the Schnellzug EB912 train and how Captain Rogers had searched for days for a sign of Bucky only to find nothing but blood and drag marks. Then the Valkyrie had gone under and the world had moved on…

….and somehow Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes had ended up in a diner in Washington D.C. eating breakfast on the same day Tony had been mid-nervous breakdown.

Click click click.

Too much information.

Monaco. The bruises James left even when he was careful. The way the metal arm had been calibrated to some insane number to match strength with the other one. The old timey music and dancing. The Brooklyn accent. The quick shift to violent and the lightning fast reflexes. The way James had to catalogue everything in a room before he could breathe. The PTSD and memory issues.

“James said Iron Man wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d ever seen.” Tony whispered woodenly. “No shit, his best friend was Captain America”

Click click click.

Too much information.

Tony had seen so many little pieces that he’d missed the whole picture, he’d been so overwhelmed by the unimportant details like being called sweet thing that he never remembered to care about James not knowing even basic history or understanding every day things that wouldn’t have been affected by trauma induced amnesia.

“JARVIS.” Tony had memorized his Dad’s notes long ago. As a child he’d been angry Howard focused so much on the near mythical Captain Rogers and tragic Sergeant Barnes. As a teenager, Tony had studied and focused on the stories as well just so he had something to talk to Howard about. After graduating college, he’d packed everything away in storage and hadn’t thought about it again because if summe cum laude didn’t make Howard proud, nothing would.

And then December 1991 had happened and Tony stopped thinking about anything other than his next drink for a long long time.

But now it was all coming back.

Click click click.

Too much information.

“JARVIS. In the files of Howard’s journals there are some notes from the early seventies. He was chasing down a theory that made sure he wasn’t at the hospital the day I was born. Someone died, some Prince from Saudi, not the royal family but someone lower. It was a quiet kill, didn’t make the newspapers but Dad had piles of notes about it for some reason. Find those.”

“Searching, sir.”

Tony drained the last of the smoothie, then leaned his head back down on the cool table and tried to corral his thoughts. There was something something something right there at the back of his mind, something he wasn’t putting together. There was too much information and he was too exhausted to process it, a year ago he’d have this done already but today he was moving slow and taking more time, and good God was this what normal people felt their whole lives? Slow and tired and unable to focus on a single thing at a time?

“J?” Something else peeking through the fog of weariness and the sting of growing shock Tony was trying and failing to keep away. Now was not the time to break down, not when he was so close to answers, not when he was about to find out something big, he knew it was going to be something big--

--and it would ruin James’s life but then again maybe it wouldn’t, maybe this would be the perfect thing to do, if Tony was out the picture but there was someone else there to walk James--Bucky-- Sergeant Barnes--through it all.

“J, my Auntie Peggy’s notes from around the same time when she was stationed at Lehigh. There was a thing--” he snapped his fingers impatiently. “--A thing about how it had been twenty five years since Captain Rogers went into the ice and then a thing about how they’d re-doubled their efforts searching for him and while they were at it, they looked back into the information about Sergeant Barnes for some reason. Find those.”

“Found, sir. Shall I read them to you?” JARVIS didn’t wait for answer, the AI’s systems registering Tony’s alarmingly raised vitals and clear frustration. “As per Ms. Carter’s personal writings, dated April 7, 1970.”

“When we lost Sgt Barnes off the train, we told the world he was missing presumed killed in action, but among ourselves and those who had been at Azzano, it was widely accepted that if he hadn’t died, Stg Barnes had been taken by Hydra’s men to continue whatever they had done to him at Azzano. Captain Rogers always worried there was a spy among us, not in the Commandos itself but among the ranks of the very beginning of SHIELD and the seemingly instant disappearance of the Sgt lends itself to the fact that someone knew the Commandos were coming, knew where they would be, and were poised and in place to take prisoners.”

“Yeah, I know all that.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and pursed his lips. “Keep going. Past that.”

“There have been rumours of a master assassin in Eastern Europe, though we have yet to find evidence of him here in the West. Reports come in of superhuman speed and reflexes, the bearing of a soldier but movement like a ghost and shining silver in the light as if he is half man, half robot. They call him the Winter Soldier and Howard is afraid--”

“It’s Captain Rogers.” Tony finished, because he did know all this. He remembered finding these notes when he was fourteen and taking them to Howard and Maria to ask if Captain America had really escaped the ice and gone on to be a master assassin. Howard had got up and left the room, Maria had only smiled sadly and taken the journal away and nothing else had ever been said. “Dad was afraid it was Captain Rogers exacting some sort of over patriotic brand of super soldier revenge. Keep reading.”

“However, I am afraid the answer may be worse than we feared. I am sure Captain Rogers went into the ice and never made it home, a fella wouldn’t stand me up for a dance for no good reason.”

“Jesus, Auntie.” Tony closed his eyes tight, heart breaking for his sweet Auntie who had loved exactly one man her entire life.

“I am afraid we are looking at the newest generation of super soldiers, a project taken from Schmidt’s attempts at the serum and handed over to the wrong people, perhaps the same work done on Sgt Barnes at Azzano and maybe even perfected if Hydra managed to take him again after the train. I cannot fathom the horror of a soldier changed into a monster and used for unspeakable deeds, but I suppose our work with Captain Rogers looks the same to the other side-- an innocent boy turned into a killing machine. The prospect is much scarier when it is we who are unprepared and facing a super-human we have no hope of stopping.”

“Howard has been given the task of recreating the super soldier serum we used on Captain Rogers, but it has been twenty five years since we lost the original formula so he will have to start from scratch. It may well take another twenty years to finalize it and I’m not sure if we should even try. The sins of the war should stay buried where they lay in the ground, and beneath the ice.”

“Half man, half robot.” Tony’s gaze cut over to the schematics for the new arm he’d built James. “This cannot be happening. How did I not put this together?”

“To be fair, sir. No one could have possibly drawn a connection between a soldier of legend in American history from seventy years ago, to a few shadowy accounts of an assassin detailed in Ms. Carter’s notes over forty years ago, to a modern day former soldier. Even if your most alert form, there is no possible way to have achieved this conclusion.”

“This cannot be happening.” Tony ignored JARVIS’s well meaning and entirely correct comfort and asked, “Alright, if Sergeant Barnes really was taken by Hydra again and used as an assassin for decades, how would they have accomplished that? The super serum slowed down aging by the process of speeding up healing, but seventy years would age anyone. James doesn’t look more than a couple of years older than his enlistment photo.”

“Cryogenic freeze, perhaps?” Several articles pulled up and across Tony’s screens. “Scientists have been aware of the process since the eighteen hundreds, and it is not a stretch to assume the same scientists that could create a super human could also master ways with which to preserve the specimen.”

“The specimen.” Tony muttered. “Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Alright, cryo-freeze. Fine. If I can believe in a tiny kid from Brooklyn lifting motorcycles over his head while wearing tights and punching out Adolf, I can get on board with cryo freeze. But after the war, Hydra was dismantled. We took the best scientists and killed everyone else. Who would have the money and power necessary to not only keep a super soldier on ice undetected, but also to thaw him out and unleash him on the world every so often?”

Later, later Tony would be sick to his stomach thinking about what James might have gone through at the hands of some insane Nazi scientist. Later he would deal with the head splitting migraine because out of all the things he knew, he never thought he’d ever know a century old super soldier who didn’t remember anything other than his name. Later Tony would break down and let himself cry because the closest thing he’d ever found to love wasn’t meant for him at all, a resurrected and re-found American Hero and long term Prisoner of War Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes wasn’t meant for him.

Tony would do that later.

Right now he needed know only one thing-- “Who, J?”

“Ms. Carter feared a spy in the organization that became SHIELD. Perhaps you should start there.”

-- and then he needed to make a call.

******************

Ring-ring.

Tony’s heart sank even as he listened to the waiting tone. He’d been hoping to find someone for James, but he hadn’t thought it would be this soon. He hadn’t thought it would be someone so perfect for James that Tony’s inevitable leaving wouldn’t even register with the soldier.

He hadn’t wanted good-bye to be catastrophic, but he knew when the phone picked up and the call connected that this was only the first step in James moving on from him completely. A couple months was nothing in the face of years of history, shared trauma nothing in the path of entwined lives.

He hadn’t wanted good-bye to be catastrophic, but hell Tony had thought he’d have more time before he broke his own heart trying to do the right thing.

Ring-ring.

And this was the right thing. It was the right thing. For James and for everyone else involved. Tony couldn’t in good conscience hide what he knew, he couldn’t even store it away for later after he’d had just a little more time with James because what if later was too late?

What if his numbers climbed too high, too fast and he never made it to later and good-bye came without James knowing?

This was the right thing to do, the first step in Ghost Protocol and really the most important step because Tony knew Happy and Rhodey and Pepper would be okay with out him and now he knew James would be okay.

It was the right thing to do, the first step in the Protocol Tony had began working on the day he came home from Afghanistan so why did it feel like it was the first step off a cliff?

Ring-ring.

I’m not ready to say goodbye.

I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to do--

Ring-ring-click.

“Hello.”

“Director Fury.” Tony closed his eyes tight and forced himself to breathe. “This is Tony Stark.”

“Well well well, it’s not every day I get a billionaire calling my personal cell phone number that is in no way available without some high tech and definitely illegal hacking of sealed files. What can I do for you Mr. Stark?”

“...You know that thing that you think you’re keeping secret, but I definitely have been aware of since you pulled it from the ice three years ago?”

“Nope. No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right, because you’ve got entire libraries full of secrets, I guess I’ll have to be a little more specific.” Tony pried his eyes open so he could look up at the picture of Sergeant Barnes and Captain Steve Rogers on his screens, the famous one the Smithsonian always kept up at their Howling Commandos display. “Let’s talk about Project Resurrection. I’d like to meet the star of the show.”

“Absolutely not. Not an option.”

“Director Fury, I want to meet him.” Tony set his jaw and straightened his shoulders and let a layer of that Stark iron harden his voice. “And based on the lack of surprise in your voice, I’m assuming you know what this is about and we can talk later about how tired I am of people keeping secrets from me.”

Something bitter like betrayal in the back of Tony’s throat-- would he ever get used to people keeping things from him? How long had Fury known about James?

“So Director Fury, this will be the only time I ask nicely. I want to meet him.”

Silence.

“...How soon can you get to D.C.?”

**************************

Chapter Notes:

I really really love Tony’s mind set here. He is all over the place and unable to concentrate but still, his priorities are fully in line-- taking care of the people he loves and still trying to find answers for James and when he finds those answers, he forces himself to do the right thing.

The picture J brings up of Scott Proctor is actually a reference to that one tumblr post about how Michael Pena (Luis, Ant Man) sort of looks like Seb Stan in some pictures? Like if Luis was Rebecca Barnes’s grandson? I can’t find the exact post but look HERE and HERE and I love the similarities so much!

If you’ve read my ‘Time Falls Away’ time travel series, you might recognize some of the conspiracy theories in this chapter! And ever since writing that fic I always want Auntie Peggy Carter to save the day for Tony. Love her.

April 7, 1970 is the day Stony goes to Lehigh in Endgame.

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

***************************

@quietgayguy @bluedreamdino @akimi-youngblood @blackstar1602 @dixiehellcat @travellover1245 @capnstarkey @the-awkward-teenaged-one @thanossucks @peteryoulittleshit @tony-and-steeeb @striving-artist @roe-sesandthorns @coolsidedpillow @i-am-worth-it-25 @firelightmystic @maligatorthealigator @simsccsol @a-tardis-in-221b @happyendingrequired @everygoodoneistaken11 @pootie-and-the-snoots @megahuffledor @xkissmeimirishx @crystalskrull @hazelbeatsturtle @wecollectnightmares @endrega23 @saganarojanaolt @the-crazy-house @ravynfyre @yomama-umbridge @lovely--tony @gayspacesprinkles @elliotkaingrey @warmachinesocks @glitternotgold73

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @livewire28 @tulipsnbigcats @kimstark @alex-stark-rogers @bibbarnes @heeeyitskay @goindownshipping @justaniche @actual-demon-belial

#ncts fics #winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes #nick fury

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amphtaminedreams · 3 years

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Spring/Summer & Haute Couture Week 2021: Whoops, I’ve Missed a Loooot (Part 2)

Hey to anyone reading,

I’m so sorry for the gap between the last fashion week review post and this one! Argh. I had no idea I posted it as long ago as the beginning of March but I think we can all agree that lockdown has fucked with our perceptions of time completely. I wish I could say the delay in posting was as simple as me being busy but I’ve also started to reflect on whether or not I want to carry on this format of posts for the time being; on the scale of problems, this one is wayyy down there in the very lower quartile of the first world region, but my motivation to carry on this kind of content in the form of long-winded text posts is...meh...not so much there anymore. At first I was thinking the issue was that working on these was my last priority on my daily to-do lists but as I’ve got back into writing fiction, it’s kind of occurred to me that the fact I was putting these posts on my to-do lists in the first place along with things like doing the ironing and contacting student finance speaks volumes. When I’m back from work or winding down, opening up Tumblr and coming back to this draft isn’t something that I think of as a fun stress reliever in the way drafting stories is. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my imagination or my creativity or expressing myself in any way and it’s not much of an escape from day to day life in the way that writing dialogue or exploring characters is. Maybe it’s because I’ve done quite a few of these posts now but I just tend to feel like I’m repeating myself, you know kinda like when you’re writing an essay and trying to fill up a word count; of course there are collections that I do have a lot of opinions on but by and large, sometimes it boils down to THESE CLOTHES ARE JUST FUCKING PRETTY, OKAY?! There’s only so many things you can say about a tulle skirt or an exaggerated collar before you want to strangle yourself with said tulle. I used to think iF VoGUe RuNwaY wRitErs CaN dO iT WhAT's MY exCusE until I realised that 1). Vogue Runway writers actually get paid and 2). for the most part all they do is explain the designer's intentions behind the collections verbatim without giving a critical opinion anyway.

I think a lot of the pressure I feel to justify what are in reality quite simple observations and opinions goes back to some of the feelings I explained in my first ever fashion week review where people who know more about fashion and have a formal education in the subject tend to be kind of gatekeep-y and elitist. It can never be that you appreciate different things about a collection but rather than one of you has taste and the other doesn’t and if it wasn’t obvious, the taste level assigned to you by the powers that be tend to positively correlate with the amount of money you have available to spend on a degree that has a reputation for failing to provide a steady income, which for most makes it an unrealistic avenue to pursue. I know, I know, the pressure is totally self-inflicted and wholly imagined seeing as I have under 500 followers on here and those who do interact with these posts most likely do so for the pictures but I still feel it, and given that I’m going to have enough external pressure to write essays when I return to uni in September, why on earth am I wasting time putting it on myself? When just posting photosets of my favourite looks is not only actually enjoyable for me but is also what other people WANT to see too? Nobody wants to read a self-indulgent paragraph like this when they’re here for the clothes and to be honest, for the most part I don’t want to write them anyway unless it’s something I have strong feelings about or if a collection can only be properly appreciated with analysis. I think I’ve made pretty clear which designers I’m a fan of, do you really need to hear me raving about Gucci or Zimmerman or Miu Miu or Balenciaga again? Is there gonna be anything revolutionary in yet another rant about Maria Grazia? Course not. I mean, if you are reading, you might have to witness those things one last time because I do intend to finish off this season’s review in this format for consistency purposes and because I’ve already got all the notes now but on the whole, I doubt anyone will miss my rambles.

So, with all that in mind, I think after I finish my S/S21 posts I am gonna start just uploading these posts without the written part. I mean, for one, the simplicity of doing this means I’m much less likely to procrastinate making them which in turn means I’ll be able to get them out right after the shows as a kind of summary as opposed to months later when they’re no longer as relevant. This will also give me more time to work on the writing I actually enjoy. Right now I’m going through and editing my 17 year old self’s “grown-up” take on the Pretty Little Liars blackmail murder mystery style plot line which I wrote back when I was completely and utterly obsessed with the show and bitterly disappointed by the last couple of seasons. The writing is pretty mediocre and often hugely cringey to read back now but I am still a fan of the basic plot and I’m genuinely motivated to see if I can make it something actually worth reading, and to get onto that ASAP; this feels especially important right now given that the HBO version of the series’ apparent upcoming release has sent that ever-present writer’s fear of seeing-your-same-storyline-done-better-by-somebody-else-thus-forever-relegating-your-version-to-being-the-poor-imitation-so-you-gotta-get-there-first into overdrive (or maybe that’s just me and my neuroses). Again, it’s a totally unfounded fear based on the fact that the HBO show will probs get millions of viewers whilst I will be doing little more than shouting into the void but anybody who’s used Turnitin to submit an essay that ultimately counts for little more than like 1% of your grade or degree will know that no matter how irrelevant your work is, the concept of failing a plagiarism check, be it via a computer algorithm or one random stranger on the internet’s assessment, is enough to conjure visions of the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse galloping towards you screaming “START THE WHOLE THING AGAIN” before releasing a hoarde of 2015 Chanel vs. Walmart style comparison memes.

Now, speaking of Chanel, I should probably get back into the reviewing.

So for the last time for a little while, here’s Christian Siriano:

Siriano’s designs are a great example of work I feel guilty enjoying. I know that when it comes to quality, the high fashion community have a lot of (negative) things to say and I really can’t speak to that because quite honestly, I know very little about textile manufacturing. Solely from my own point of view though, I do like his work a lot. I wouldn’t claim for a minute that he’s a pioneer in terms of his creations but I would 100% love to wear them and I DO hugely admire his commitment to putting women of all sizes on the runway and designing pieces that don’t simply cater to straight up and down types which is more than can be said for most brands. I get that his collections are pretty formulaic, taking what has worked for the likes of Chanel and Alessandra Rich, De La Renta and Carolina Herrera, Michael Kors too (who is kind of guilty of the same thing himself), but that’s not to say his work is bad. Let’s be real, we’ve been on this planet thousands of years, we’re all taking inspiration from someone, and maybe figures like Kors and Siriano could wait a *little* longer before taking said inspiration but their aim at the end of the day is to sell clothes, not break barriers, a task which although often left to the big name brands, they too often fail at. I’m not going to lie, I’m feeling this whimsical mid-century tea party vibe, it’s elegant and it’s cutesy and My Fair Lady-esque, and you bet your arse I would be absolutely thrilled to wear one of these looks on a summer red carpet. I just can’t say no to anything tulle-maybe it’s that I was on Toddlers & Tiaras in a past life or maybe it’s that I watched too many Barbie Princess films growing up, but I like pretty much everything going on here, especially Siriano is giving us matching fedoras too. Plus, can we take a moment to praise Siriano for his COVID relief efforts? Near the beginning of the pandemic, he turned his studio into a mask manufacturing factory in order to send them out as donations, and I think that is very cool.

Then there’s Christopher Kane who once again came through with the most insanely gorgeous prints:

I mean, paint splattering is hardly a new technique but I haven’t seen it done as a print so tastefully before-it eats the Moschino biro scribble print (which apparently was copied too speaking of the tendencies of designers to “borrow” inspiration) for breakfast. It’s shit because there weren’t many looks in this collection and they weren’t really shot in a way that does them any justice but I thought I’d include the few I saved.

Comme Des Garcons is a fave of the high fashion community and one I look forward to seeing at fashion week but can never quite get behind. I appreciate the what-the-fuckery of it all with this show totally being able to pass as a run-through of some kind of nuclear waste themed scare house at one of Thorpe Park’s fright nights. I assume given that and the plastic Mickey Mouse print it’s supposed to be some kind of reference to the part late-stage capitalism has played in the hellish landscape we find ourselves in today? Or something all intellectual? In which case I made my interpretation with farrrr too much confidence. But Anyway! Who knows! I’ll leave the analysis to the fashion students, and give it one word: trippy.

Onto Dion Lee, a brand I truly do get excited to talk about because it’s rare that I don’t LOVE his work.

Without fail, Lee manages to be confidently ahead of the curve without going out of his way to announce it and his genius to everyone with flamboyant shows and exaggerated designs and extortionate prices. He is very much an underdog in the fashion world in terms of big names but you’ll be hard pressed to find anyone who doesn’t love his collections. His S/S21 collection is one of my favourites of the bunch. I love seeing something I’ve never seen before and the palm leaf breast plate is so odd but so cool and so perfectly Dion Lee at the same time; we’ve seen jungle/tropical inspired collections sooo many times *cough cough D&G cough cough* and THIS is how you make them fresh and unique. I mean, never in a million years did I think I’d get behind the resurgence of the gladiator sandal trend but Lee has me changing my mind. This is one of the very rare times you will ever see me using this meme to praise a man but:

I mean, he has Fernanda Ly modelling for him, that the man has taste goes without saying.

Now for a bit of a full circle moment, given that I did actually praise Dior’s haute couture collection in my first ever post; Maria Grazia did GOOD. Well, with haute couture at least.

She’s always pretty hamfisted with her references, there’s no denying, with that Grecian Goddess style RTW collection typifying that statement completely, but luckily she struck gold this time round; as someone who studied the Tudors for A-level history, seeing a modern take on the exaggeratedly feminine renaissance silhouettes with the baroque prints and the deep jewell tones got me super excited especially when you throw in the dreamy tarot theming and the nods to the mystical and arcane. Seeing as the Heavenly Bodies Met Gala (I know, I know, I need to move on) was some time ago now and Cersei Lannister’s *SPOILER* been crushed by a rock (could also be seen as a metaphor for the irrelevancy David Benioff and D.B Wise condemned GoT to when they aired that shitty ending tehe) and so probably won’t be getting a collection based on her costumes any time soon, this is the only fashion take on this kind of period dress I’m going to get…and you know what? I’m okay with that. Thanks Maria, I guess?

Her RTW collection wasn’t absolutely awful either, and slightly better than the past few collections at least. Put a monkey in a room with a typewriter (or show it enough similar well-received collections) and it will eventually write something that makes sense, don’t they say? I like the nomadic feel of a lot of the looks and there’s beautiful layering going on but the aura of exotic opulence unsurprisingly didn’t stick around for long and I found that there was a decline in quality in the midsection of the show that landed a lot of the outfits in either awkward mother of the bride at a beach wedding or The Only Way is Essex Ocean Beach PLT sponsored poolside party territory. The looks picked back up a bit towards the end stretch of the show but I wasn’t a fan of the Gucci style oversized glasses which were so out of place with the rest of the theming that if anything they seemed like a cheap grab at relevancy. So yeah, a middling, subpar Etro-esque collection which is better than usual for Dior I suppose.

Next, Elie Saab, whose S/S21 collection was kinda disappointing, tbh. Oh how the turns have tabled given that positive Dior review and my usual love of Saab’s collections.

I know his dresses lose some of their appeal when we can’t see them in motion but even ON the runway I can’t see myself being dazzled by any of these pieces the way I usually am. They’re lacking the level of detail and craftsmanship I associate with the brand seemingly in favour of block colours and suits and the issue is that the whole Disney Princess fantasy has always been the appeal for me because the silhouettes aren’t interesting enough on their own. They’re not ugly pieces, they’re nice, but does nice really have a place in high fashion when the pieces are so basic in both their design and presentation that the shots could pass as ripped from a catalogue? The strongest parts of the collection were when it did go down the more delicate route with the muted blue suits and the white feather trimmed dresses, the small, ornamental gold details reminding me of a very toned down nod to Schiaparelli’s hardware, but with regards to the bright coloured pieces, I can’t lie-they did look like something you could find in the M&S Per Una holiday section. Then you’ve got the weakest parts, which were just flat out ugly: sheer giraffe print, sweat band style elasticated waits, and long chiffon shirts that I hate to admit read as frumpy. There are times where I’ve not been particularly excited by an Elie Saab collection in the past, but I do think this is the first time I’ve actively disliked parts of it.

Conversely, Erdem’s S/S21 collection was super strong, and solidified the brand’s place in my mind as a dependable source of kooky maximalism, this time round giving us Anya Taylor Joy’s Emma wardrobe on speed. You could tell me Erdem Moralıoğlu had just raided the Bridgerton set’s fitting rooms and put it on a runway and I would 100% believe you and I mean that in a positive way because to give my unpopular opinion, the clothes were the only good thing about that show. The endearingly florid details of exaggerated bows and clashing florals were still there but this time in a way that felt more subtle and self-assured, as if the calming influence of the wooded set’d had a direct hand in the designs, giving the rugged, ethereal feel to the collection I associate with brands like Brock and Simone Rocha, all whilst keeping the parts of Erdem I’m so fond of.

Is it really much of a shock that I included pretty much every look from the Etro S/S21 show? Like, you know that Christian idea of God, like, (the voice in my head is very much taking on the dumb valley girl voice that anybody who reads this is most probably getting too) knowing our souls? I think Veronica Etro knows mine. So no, no surprise. Though there were a few unconventional touches thrown into these looks (the campier prints and nautical theming we see with the 80s beach towel print, for example, reminded me a bit of Versace) the mystical bohemian it girl that Etro designs for would still be highly satisfied. Sure, it might be a wardrobe fit for a holiday less adventurous than backpacking but if she wanted a tropical poolside holiday, this collection is the one, the paisley print chiffon mini and maxi dresses especially. I’m just gonna pretend I don’t see the monstrosity that is leggings worn as trousers-it’s a fashion rule I refuse to abandon-because they are the only stain on an otherwise expectedly gorgeous collection.

Next, an unusually reserved RTW collection from Fendi:

More in line with the wardrobe of a European fashion editor than the glamorous trophy wife (who let’s say uses that facade as a guise to ruthlessly run her husband’s whole business empire from behind the scenes because in this house we do complex female characters only), these pieces are lot “smarter” and more professional looking than Fendi’s typical offerings; where I feel Fendi usually designs for the society girl who wouldn’t mind a front page scandal, these are the kind of outfits a young member of Monaco’s royal family would wear for a positively received but business-as-usual press tour. I know, Fendi is an Italian brand, but this is more Southern France to me. We’re talking some 2nd page shots of a Kate Middleton type on a yacht on the Riviera smiling and waving as her PR team’s ideal scenario. Still, whilst fewer exaggerated silhouettes, animal prints and overtly luxurious fabrics (real leathers, silks and furs for example) mean that the drama’s a little toned down, it’s all still very expensive looking and combines the classically feminine glamour of the past and the minimalism of modernity in the artful manner that we’re used to. Maybe it’s me being a basic bitch but I always love seeing Ashley Graham on the runway too, even if brands to tend to use her as their single token plus size model.

Kim Jones’ debut haute couture collection for Fendi, however, wasn’t a very well received one. I don’t hate it personally but I can see where the criticisms are coming from. Whilst it’s closer to the version of Fendi I’ve come to expect and there were some stunning pieces which completely encapsulated that distinctive aura of luxe and glamour, there were quite a few lazy pieces which could’ve been from any designer. I also felt the collection was a bit upstaged by what seemed to be a who’s who of the modelling world; having Bella, Cara, Kate and Naomi ALL walk in one show was a bit distracting and took the focus off the clothes completely.

Giambattista Valli’s RTW collection was gorgeous as ever; the man has undeniably mastered the art of delivering classic, objective elegance, the kind of designs I feel would make you light on your feet and smell like strawberries and cream the minute you put one on. Whilst as a brand his RTW shows are rarely trendsetting, they reliably produce a plethora of unfailingly graceful and demure pieces, as appealing to your mum and your grandma as they are to young women and little girls, and this collection is another victory lap for Valli when it comes to upholding his signature tea party and artisan cupcake making and rose garden strolling and bottomless rosé brunch appropriate aesthetic. There were a lot of outfits that were bordering on overly juvenile, with structures a little too basic to justify the amount of sequins thrown on, but when it’s good, it’s so sweet that regardless of how to formula it is, I can’t help but fall in love.

Valli’s haute couture collection was stunning too and for sure a more exciting offering than the RTW. There was of course a lot of the signature tulle but it was head-turning, over the top in a way that leant far more towards the experimental than I expected. The photos themselves are 100% believable as a some kind of Vogue behind the scenes editorial shoot on the set of live action Disney princess movie (in between takes of the climactic ball scene if you wanna get specific with the vision); if you are looking for a prettier alternative to the primary colours and disruptive shapes of a Molly Goddard collection, this is the one. It’s giving the themes of excess and abundance I associate with that of the Hunger Games Capitol but through the softer lens of a Sofia Coppola movie, and being the typical cinema loving white girl I am, I’m obviously on board with that vibe.

I did SUCH a 180 on Givency’s S/S21 collection from when I first saw it to writing a review. My initial reaction was one of disappointment, I guess simply because Givenchy has given us so many bold pieces and presentations over the last few years whereas this is more low-key. After properly considering it though as I would any other brand, I came to the conclusion that I do actually really like it. It’s still got the strange, androgynous silhouettes popping up throughout and the futuristic space-age details but with a more down-to-earth, streetwear feel, albeit a very slick, glossy spin on the trends of the rabble (that’s us guys) of course before we go believing it’s achievable. On the one hand, the devil horn accents are a touch Claire’s accessories halloween range but at the same time, done with confidence they’re kind of cool and bring something new and fun to the table in line with the dark theatre of Givenchy’s last few shows.

Now for Gucci, which for the first time I have to say, if I'm attempting objectivity, is not a standout.

Like, can I just start by saying though the format it’s presented in is cute, it’s not ideal as a way of actually showing the collection. I get that the vintage shop bin vibe is a huge part of Gucci’s brand but polaroids make it SO hard to actually see the clothes, and that’s what we’re here for right? I don’t want to give the impression that I don’t like what I see here-the clothes are gorgeous, an idyllic ode to the off-duty wardrobes of Studio 54-ers, bohemian style icons like Charlotte Rampling and young Olivia Newton-John, psychedelic rock guitarists and the inhabitants of San Fransisco’s Haight during the late 60s and early 70s, Alessandro Michele’s favourite period of reference. I can’t pretend otherwise, or act like I wouldn’t want to wear the shit out of this collection. Buut, for Gucci? It’s a little underwhelming. These are the kind of filler looks we get in a typical Gucci show to go alongside the more statement pieces, which this collection is lacking. It’s just that these are designs which usually gets people talking and these pieces don’t do that. It sucks because for most other brands this would be a stand out collection, an immersive, luscious vignette of what people tend to think of as a cultural golden era, but when you’ve had a show that involved models carrying replicas of their own decapitated heads down the runway in the last 5 years, of course something more toned down like this is gonna generate a lot of “is that it?”s.

I owe Hermes an apology. Looking back, I have disliked all their previous collections for the same reason that I now really like this one; maybe it’s in part down to the frustration of still having to whack out the winter coat on occasion in May (fuck British weather and climate change), but suddenly I really appreciate the value of some good quality, versatile outerwear. Hermes is giving us that in spades here and for that, I bow down to them. The pieces on offer are clearly well-made and genuinely practical, and through the minimalist approach manage to retain both an air of timeless sophistication whilst also being youthful and on trend. The leather tactical vest co-ord I can easily see edged up and taking centre stage on one of those insane Seoul street style slow-mo TikToks that were big a couple of months ago and there are several pieces that could tie together a grunge influenced k-style look just as well as they could exist for years on end as the wardrobe staple of a high-powered businesswoman. Designer Nadège Vanhee-Cybulski’s strengths really come through with the simpler looks and it’s the patterned pieces that drag down an otherwise flawless collection; I guess because the aesthetic is very minimalist, the patterns can’t be anything overly decorative but unfortunately this has a bit of a dowdy effect when you pair it with such modest silhouettes. Disregarding those elements of the collection though, it was super good.

It goes without saying that Iris Van Herpen’s haute couture collection was breathtaking; if the fashion community can agree on anything, it’s that this woman’s work is consistently awe-inspiring. She captures the wonder of the universe, the biological structures and kaleidoscopic colours we don’t even register, through fashion in a way that others can only imitate, to mesmerising, truly transcendent effect; I can only assume Van Herpen has mother nature whispering into her ear because how the hell else do you explain her ability to take the kind of microscopic organisms they show you images of in an outdated GCSE science powerpoint and make a dress that resembles one so stunning? Care to explain, Iris? Because if there is some kind of line of communication between the two of you can you please tell the bitch I’m over this weather and that I have cute summer outfits I’m waiting to wear so can she pack this torrential rain shit in? K, thanks xoxo

See it seems shady as fuck to go from IVH to Isabel Marant like this because we are talking 2 designers with totallyyyy different approaches to fashion; Iris Van Herpen is haute couture for starters whereas Marant is commercial, and that’s her thing, but unfair comparisons aside this collection is still a bit of a let down. This is considering I do usually really like Isabel Marant collections based on whether or not I’d wear the pieces, which seems a more appropriate barometer to use to come to a quality verdict. Whilst there were a few of the elegant bohemian pieces my mind goes to when it comes to her brand, the steps outside of that comfort zone didn’t pay off; graffiti print (can be cool if done with some subtlety which apart from a few exceptions was not the case here), cheap looking reflective fabric, and MC Hammer style dungarees, it seems to be an attempt to merge 80s trends with modern urban culture, and an attempt that at times verged on the disastrous. It’s good for a brand to experiment, of course, and appeal to a wider client base than usual, but when it’s bad the unfortunate take away is that the design team don’t have the chops to pull off straying from familiar territory; designers wouldn’t be showing at fashion week if this was truly the case because disregarding the influence of nepotism, fashion is an area you need real talent, perseverance and business smarts to excel in, and so it doesn’t do a team justice when they do fail.

J.W Anderson, on the other hand, really put his best foot forward this season and presented this work in a really cool way too which only added to the positives; whilst the way the shots were edited was funky af, it didn’t detract from the actual outfits, and if we are to see the same limitations when it comes to the F/W collections being released, this is something a lot of designers and editing teams should take note of. The idiosyncratic exaggerated shapes that we see as a recurring feature of Anderon’s collections were still on show but this time round with added femininity, billowing skirts and trailing jewellery that channel the stage looks of Stevie Nicks in a way that’s modern and functional and maybe even fit for the office if you were to work in a more creative industry with a chill boss. Could also work for a coven of witches who practice meditation by bonfires in the moonlight and burn the letters of men who wronged them in some Arizonian desert, so like I said, functional! Who doesn’t like versatility? The only thing I’m not too keen on is the shoes but they’re not so bad that it affects my opinion of the collection and they look comfy I guess.

Lastly, we’ve got to talk about Jacquemus, one of the most influential names in fashion at the moment. And yes, this time round, I’m doing it: I’m buying into the hype.

This collection is gorgeousss! I can see already that a lot of the recurring elements of the show are going to be big summer trends for this year (the cut outs and strappy details on the blouses are everywhere already) even though it isn’t hot enough to have collectively decided the time to start dressing for heat is upon us yet, and that’s always a good indicator of how successful the designer was in their vision and attempts to assess the needs and wants of fashion enthusiasts; whether I’m as big a fan of his work as everyone else seems to be, there’s no denying Simon Porte Jacquemus has always excelled at this practice if the buzz around him is anything to go by. It makes sense given the last year of us all being stuck in and suppressed that a lot of us are already romanticising the summer ahead, anticipating picnics and beach days and general Theresa May running through wheat fields type shenanigans galore, in spite of how dubious an assumption it is to make that British weather will allow for this; Porte Jacquemus has very much catered to this wishful thinking and the popularity of the whole escapist “cottage core” aesthetic, sexing it up a little bit with pieces that hug the body in ways only Mugler knows how whilst being lightweight and relaxed enough to look good with windswept, sandy hair and a little dose of sunburn. I’m talking enough to give you some cutesy freckles and rosy cheeks not PSA on the importance of suncream territory, guys, what is it with those of us on the gen Z/millennial cusp not taking sun damage seriously!? Why do I have to beg so many of my friends to wear it!? Does nobody else remember those photos they’d show you in PSHE in English primary schools of burnt people’s skin under UV lights? Or is that just me being weird and only having such a vivid memory of the images because teachers told us we had to wait until year 6 to see them due they to their “graphic” nature only for my gore-loving self to be extremely underwhelmed when we finally did get that lesson? They showed us a woman giving birth in year 4 for fuck’s sake. THAT was traumatising.

Back to the actual point anyway, with just a couple of negatives, the first of which being that the pieces are very similar to those feminine looks we saw dotted about the Jacquemus menswear collection from last year that were all over fashion Twitter. In Simon Porte Jacquemus’ defence though, it makes sense that those tones and silhouettes would be revisited in a full womenswear collection for that very reason; considering they went down so well and that lockdown gave us a bit of a half-baked summer in 2020, expanding on those elements enough for a whole new collection makes good business sense. We did get some cool additions too, mainly in the form of accessories, with the hardware details on the belts similar to those included in the Givenchy collection and the abstract hair slides being standouts for me. It was all exquisite-the shoes, the jewellery, the styling, everything 10/10. My other nitpick, and I say nitpick not because it’s not important but because it’s an issue that’s hardly restricted to Jacquemus (this casting team are far from the worst offenders, Saint Laurent I’m looking at you), is that I WISH we’d see more diversity with the models. Despite what my body dysmorphia yells at me, I am small, and yet seeing all those fucking minuscule waists made me die a little inside; it’s crazy to me that in 2020 the lack of variety in body types on the runway is still such a problem.

I must have said this a million times but I don’t want to end on a negative note so let me reiterate: this collection was STUN. NING. Plus there were some others I’ve talked about in this post that I’m sure will make it into my top 20 in the final part, Jacquemus, Dion Lee and Etro for sure; we even got some gorgeous pieces from Maria Grazia which I thought was a sentence I’d never type out. Have I said enough to not leave a bad taste in the mouth of anyone who read to the end of this post? I hope so, lol! TBH, it’s impressive given everything that’s going on that the majority of designers did roll out collections in September as usual so serious respect to them and their design teams for that.

In the next post, I’ll fingers crossed be able to include everything from Kim Shui (exciting!) through to at least Off-White (actually pretty good this time?!) and make this whole thing a 4 parter before getting straight on top of the photo posts I’m thinking about doing for the time being for the F/W21 shows. So as usual, if you did read to the end thank you so much and I respect the perseverance you must have to get through all my rambling, lmao. Hope everyone is well and coping okay and again, my inbox is always open for any post suggestions, constructive criticism, or just a chat for anyone who needs a listening ear.

Big love and thank you again!

Lauren x

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spacemomcreations · 3 years

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Fan Fic Writer Review

I was tagged by @findswoman , so here goes:

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Just 13 right now. I’m still in the process of uploading my work from the Jedi Council Forum’s fan fiction boards.

2. What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

102, 123 words

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Just one: Star Wars

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Wolf Brother

Shadow of a Doubt

Date Night

The Beginning of Honor

“All the Joy, but Not the Care”

Wolf Brother is an AU in which Ezra was raised by Loth-wolves, Shadow of a Doubt and Date Night are Kanera stories, Beginning of Honor is a Zeb backstory, and All the Joy is Kanan angst set during “Jedi Night”.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do my best to. RL has been hectic lately (as in the last year and a half :P) so I don’t always get to it right away, but I do try.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Definitely All the Joy, but not the Care, which ends with Kanan going knowingly and willingly to his own death after Palpatine tempts him with a vision of a happy future with Hera and Jacen.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

A long time ago, when my daughter was into My Little Pony, I started writing a SW/Equestria Girls crossover called Friendship Is Galactic. I did some crossover fanart for it as well.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, thankfully.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I don’t. It took me a long time to write my first kiss and I’m still working my way up to my first “fade-to-black” scene.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, I haven’t.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Back in the day when I first started writing fic, I did a lot of collaboration and round robins. Sadly, most of them are lost to truncation on the JCF boards.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Kanera, without a doubt!

14. What’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

A story that I have on JCF, called All Our Yesterdays about what happens to Ezra after the Rebels finale. (spoiler: he escapes the Chimaera and crashes in the Unknown Regions, but loses his memory in the process). It kind of got away from me with multiple “cool ideas” that didn’t necessarily add to the story and there was just so much time to fill between events (somewhere between 5 and 10 years😜). Every now and then I get a wild hare to work on it, which usually ends in utter frustration at my inability to make it workable.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I think my strengths are in writing family/friendship dynamics, characterization, and dialogue. I think I do pretty well with humor, too.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes are tough for me to write, and while I feel I do well with light romance, I’m still getting the hang of “heavier” romance scenes.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’m not fluent enough in any RL languages to work them into my writing (and it really wouldn’t make sense in the GFFA), but I’ve learned quite a bit of Mando’a in the course of writing my Sabine-centric stories and I feel pretty comfortable using a word or sentence of it to add to a story.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh, hmm….like @findswoman I feel like this is like choosing a favorite child! Of my stories on AO3, I’m going to say it’s a tie between All the Joy, but Not the Care and Beginning of Honor. I’m very proud of All the Joy, because it turned out almost exactly the way I had imagined it. It’s a bit more dramatic than most of the stories I usually write, too, and I was happy that I was able to pull off something serious. And I am proud of Beginning for the amount of worldbuilding and character creation that went into it.

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#fanfic #writing #about me #just for fun

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fangirlofbooksandpasta · 3 years

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The Last Kiss - Part 1

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warning: indirect sex, mild swearing, very very VERY vague thor x reader (as in they had a one night stand w/o any details and that’s all), kind of insecure reader

Summary: When their friend Thor invites them to visit Asgard, Y/N says yes. But there they meet Thor’s brother; the notorious Loki. And little by little their relationship evolves.

A/N: I such at writing and uploading regularly so sorry if you get into this and I don’t update for some time. I got help from @beksib with writing this. English is neither of our first languages, so sorry for any mistakes!! THERE WILL BE MORE PARTS IF I GET MY SHIT TOGETHER

Y/N knew that Thor had a brother. Loki. And they remembered from their 5th grade obsession with norse mythology, that Loki was the God of Mischief, which made them a little afraid of meeting him, although Thor reassured them; he’s harmless. So when Thor invited Y/N to visit Asgaard, they said yes.

When Y/N’s friends asked about their vacation plans, they couldn’t really tell them the details. Y/N could barely give them a general idea of where they were headed, as none of the friends had the inside knowledge. Truth was, Y/N wasn’t supposed to know either. Thor had gotten incredibly drunk one night at a bar, and told Y/N everything once they asked him where he was from. Of course, they believed none of it. He was just a drunk fool. But when they woke up the next morning, with a sleeping Thor lying by their side, they remembered sparks - on his… skin? Y/N also had a vague memory of his eyes lighting up during the act, but convinced themselves that it must’ve been light from outside their apartment that shone in. They mentioned the sparks and light as a joke when Thor had awakened, but the way Thor’s face expression changed with the speed of light, made them realise that something was odd about him. He tried to laugh it off , but his nonchalant attitude had vanished. For a long time after that, Thor avoided them. Which was rather difficult seeing that they worked with Bruce Banner as a part of their Ph.D. in molecular biology. What happened and was talked about at the tower, was top secret. This meant that Y/N had no access beyond the labs in which they occasionally worked with Bruce Banner. It was common knowledge that there was some sort of secret group at that tower, but Y/N never cared much for politics, which this seemed to be a part of. That was until they noticed Thor in the hallway with a funky sort of outfit, as if he was cosplaying a viking superhero.

So one day Thor was forced to explain everything, which, technically, was illegal, but it was Thor. What was gonna happen to him, prison?

Y/N just promised to keep it a secret and everything was fine. So fine that Thor invited them on vacation to Asgard.

---

“This is a… guest room?” Y/N asked when the doors opened before them, revealing something that looked royal. Apparently it was just one of the guest rooms.

Their eyes were met with a wide bed of sheets that looked strangely soft. Everything was golden and expensive-looking, but not in a way that was too much - on the contrary. On one of the nightstands was a bouquet of flowers. Some of the flowers they recognised, some they didn’t, guessing that they were native to Asgard.

“Mother insisted I get flowers for my guests, so here you are, friend!” Thor said as excited as a golden retriever with his arms raised above his head. The sight made Y/N laugh at him

Soon they got dressed in Asgardian clothing, which they found surprisingly comfortable, considering how it looked. The main colour of the clothing being orange, it matched the golden plate covering their chest. It bore symbols that Y/N didn’t quite understand, although they did find them absolutely intriguing and beautiful. They felt like a royal warrior and for 15 minutes or so couldn’t stop looking at themselves in the mirror, turning around themselves and admiring the image before them, until Thor interrupted them.

He had to fulfill the royal duties that followed a prince, one of them being practising combat (which mostly consisted of him beating his friends up, according to Thor himself). This meant that Y/N was on their own for some hours, which resulted in seemingly endless wandering of the big and majestic halls of the palace - something they didn’t mind, boring as it sounds. Some of the hallways had big painted walls, portraying what Y/N guessed were great and iconic battles. She recognised Odin in some, Thor in others. Some of the paintings portrayed stories she had heard of before, like the creation of the world. Other halls were like long balconies where the city of Asgard was portrayed like a grandiose landscape painting, making Y/N stop in their steps and simply admire the beauty of it all. They could see movement below them. People in this world, that knew little of other worlds, going about their day as any other. None of them knew of Y/N’s existence, none of them cared that this guest from another realm was observing them from the castle.

But being lost amid the beauty of the golden city also meant that Y/N didn’t notice a certain prince standing at the other end of the open hallway. Loki, in his green attire, stood like a shadow in the bright sun and admired the guest. He couldn’t help but take in the beauty of how the flowy fabric embraced their figure in the gentle wind. The feeling was like a punch in the stomach - uncomfortable and unknown. He found himself fleeing the scene as if he had done something dreadful, which wasn’t something he usually would feel bad about. But this time he felt guilty.

---

Y/N was met with an unbelievable sight. The throne room was decorated even more than it was usually. It was as if everything was covered with layers of gold. The guests - even servants - wore stunning clothing, the food looked delicious and endless on the long table, and according to Thor the ale practically refilled itself. At a loss for words, Y/N entered the throne room, feeling little and undeserving to be there. They had heard multiple Asgardians talk poorly about humans, which made them feel smaller than they felt before they heard these conversations.

“Are you alright?” a soft voice from beside them asked. They turned around and saw probably one of the most beautiful women they had ever seen. Stunned by her appearance, it took a moment to produce an answer.

“Y-yea, just overwhelmed I guess…” Y/N answered quietly, still admiring the throne room in all its glory when they felt a big hand pat them on their shoulder.

“Welcome to a real party!” Thor laughed as he too looked upon the scene before him. Behind him came the warriors three, Volstagg and Fandral laughing about something, Volstagg with ale in his hand, and Hogun nodding along beside them.

“Well who do we have here?!” Volstagg exclaimed in absolute excitement at the sight of an unknown guest. Y/N turned around, nervous at the thought of having to introduce themselves to people with a reputation such as theirs.

“Y/N, my friend from Midgaard!” Thor answered excitedly, making Y/N feel like the guest of honour - a feeling they’d rather not attain at all during their stay. Nonetheless, Thor was extravagant like that. Siff gave Y/N a compassionate look that essentially said I feel you.

“I must say that you look precious in your attire,” Fandral said in a sleek voice, a compliment Y/N appreciated but also felt weird by hearing. The clothing was beautiful, no doubt about it, but it was so different from what they used to wear back home. Being in a lab most of the time meant that clothing played a lesser role, as it was usually covered by a lab coat. Not only that, but in the rare occasion that they did dress up, it was nothing like what they were wearing at this ball. The insecurities and doubts hit them as soon as they stepped outside their room.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s like that with everyone,” Siff said while pushing Fandral away, which made Y/N feel more at ease. Once again they looked across the grand hall while sipping at the ale they had acquired from a servant during the conversation. It tasted sweeter and fruitier than any other ale that they had come across. It tasted magical. Suddenly an unusual character caught their eye. A man dressed in black and green. He was standing on the balconies, all alone. His cloak was moving with the wind. For a moment he was all Y/N could see. That was, until he turned around and walked back inside. In order not to get caught staring at this stranger, they turned around to find that everyone was in the middle of an energetic conversation about some battle or training session. Only the man with black hair and a braided beard, who they guessed was Hogun, was standing quietly by.

“His name is Loki. Brother of Thor,” Hogun said calmly to Y/N, who was rather confused for a moment as to who Hogun was talking about. He looked into their eyes and they understood who Hogun was referring to - the man on the balcony. They gazed upon the room and found Loki sitting by himself, also observing the party happening before him. Although the picture could be interpreted as a sad moment, he did look content with his situation.

“What’s up with him?” Y/N asked curiously, not knowing how to express their question better. They got this weird feeling from the man across the room, as if they could feel his presence more than they ycould feel everyone else’s. They looked back at Hogun after a moment, who simply sighed slightly at the question, letting it hang in the air.

“It’s complicated. Just,” he paused for a second before he looked into their eyes, “be wary if you are to converse with him. He can be manipulative.” Hogun’s warning echoed in their head while they walked to the long table to get themselves some food. It was a never ending buffet, a feast. So many different combinations could be made, it was nearly impossible to choose. The scents all mixed with each other and the foods’ warmth was felt on Y/N’s skin as they walked along the side of the table.

In a moment of unawareness, as they turned around to try and find Thor again, they walked into the back of a stranger.

“Oh shit sorry,” Y/N exclaimed when they realised what had happened. The stranger turned around, and soon Y/N realised that they were dealing with Loki.

Loki the God of Mischief.

And suddenly everything stood still.

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson #loki odinson x reader #loki fluff #loki angst #friends to lovers #love #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #thor is there too i guess #the last kiss #fanfiction #fanfic #marvel fanfic

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celestial-archer · 3 years

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A Lady’s Tail Chapter 3

Someday i’ll actually finish a chapter for upload in the evening instead of night, but today is not that day. Anyway enjoy!

AO3

Kelpie chilled on a long branch, her tail coiled tightly around it and her upper body leaning against the tree trunk. Below her, Goren was digging out sections of dirt. He had a pouch in his hand that he’d pull a white crystal from and drop it into the hole to bury. This was the preparations for extending her alarm network. She had already set up anti-scouting enchantments and magic traps, so this was the next step for their security. Each crystal had an alarm spell enchanted on it. The goal was to have their security network extended about a kilometer away from the cave. She didn’t think anything in the forest was strong enough to threaten them since Goren had already defeated any strong creatures, but having it there would make her more comfortable. Goren was taking care of it because of his miner class. It sped up the process considerably and it would probably be done within the next hour or two. She had tried to help but from his vehement refusals, she decided to just sit back and let him do it himself.

She let her eyes drift away from him to the small leather bag in her hand. It had a decent weight to it. She shook it slightly and it jingled as the items inside collided with each other. The drawstrings fell away limply with a light tug. Inside were crudely made coins of different sizes and metals. Their circular shape was bent and misshapen in many places and had no consistency. Almost as if the coins were meant to be a child’s toy instead of currency. But no, it was the real thing. She knew because Goren had stolen it from the insolent man.

They had kidnapped him late last night when he had been locking up his shop. It was very amusing hearing his smug and cocky voice warp with pain and fear when Goren beat him into unconsciousness. The man was currently locked up inside one of the trap rooms. She didn’t really know which one since she left it to Goren in fear of another frenzy. He was given permission to improve the desired room in any way he wanted, with the stipulation that the man be alive at the end of it. It was obvious that Goren had done so because if she listened closely, she could hear the faintest agonizing screams in the wind. Her mouth watered when a particularly pain filled scream echoed. The snake in her wondered what he’d taste like after the torture? Would the flavor be intensified by his terror? Would the meat be more tender?

She ground her teeth together with a shake of her head. No, bad! This was not the time for that!

The coins in the bag clinked together as she moved. She idly grabbed one of the largest. It was very shiny and bright silver. One side had a dragon’s head on it, while the other had two clashing swords and an axe. From the size, it was probably the highest valued coin of the rest. The metal didn’t feel that strong though. If she squeezed hard enough, it’d probably break in half. She knocked the knuckles of her hand on the bark of the tree to get Goren’s attention, then tossed the coin down to him.

“Goren, what metal is that made of? It's different from the other silver colored coins, but I can’t figure it out.”

The coin landed with a twirl on top of his palm. Taking it between his fingers, he examined it closely and scrapped a corner of it.

“It appears to be made of Platinum, My Lady.”

He moved his arm to throw the coin back to her but she waved her hand in a stop motion.

“Keep it. In the future, i’m gonna have you go back to the city to act as a merchant. It’d be better for you to have the money. Here.”

She pulled the drawstrings tight and tied them into a bow before tossing the entire bag down to him.

“The rest of them. Learn what the values of them are the next time you are in the city.”

Goren gave a curt nod, put the pouch on his waist, and went back to digging. She leaned back against the tree and crossed her arms loosely. The repetitive actions of him digging and planting, digging and planting were interesting for her to watch. What made Goren so invested in being ordered around like a servant? She had given it a lot of thought these past few days, but could never get a satisfying answer. He had mentioned her being some kind of “supreme being”. Did he truly think of her as superior? If he did, where had it come from?

It’d barely been three days in this new world and she had learned much more about the world than she had about Goren. Sure, she had created him, but him as an NPC was very different from the being below. How could a single programmed personality account for him as a three dimensional person? Could she for sure say she knew everything about him? What intricacies of him as a living being existed besides the ones she knew? They would be stuck together for who knew how long, she should actually try to learn more about him as a person.

Her hand sunk into the abyss that was her inventory and pulled out a bright purple Amethyst that flickered and glowed. The gem was extremely cold to the touch and sapped the warmth from her fingers. It was aSpectral Amethyst. An extremely rare gem drop that could be added to armor and weapons to give them “soul damaging” attack bonuses. But that was really just an edgy description of the effect. What would really happen was the enemy would get a random curse for a variable amount of time. The rarity and nature of the item were so valuable that it could be sold for an insane amount of in game currency and a decent amount of real money. It was so rare that she had only found it three times in all of her Yggdrasil life. She had sold the first one for a motherlode of gold and kept the other two for future uses. Thinking back to her habits in game, she was never going to use it and would only hoard it.

She played with the gem, bouncing it up and down in her hand, as she addressed Goren.

“I didn’t ask this before, but why do you consider me a supreme being?”

The sudden question caused the shovel to slip from Goren’s grip and fall to the ground. There was a moment of pause as he turned to face her and bow.

“You are the one who created me and brought me to life. Only a supreme being is capable of such a thing.”

She peered off to the side and hummed, still twiddling the gem in her hand.

“I guess I can see that viewpoint. But do you really not feel any doubt? You’ve seen me at my most vulnerable. I’m certainly not the all powerful and all knowing type. If you think about it, we’re not even that different from each other.”

Goren tilted his head to the side as if pondering it.

“If I may be so bold, I have no right to doubt you. How can someone like me, a creation made by your hands, begin to understand someone as lofty as you? As you’ve said before my existence is for you and you alone.”

Kelpie looked into his eyes. They were unwavering and shone with absolute conviction. So that's what it had been about. It wasn't wrong that she had created him, but it still wasn’t as amazing as he thought. With a few lines of code, data crystals, and items, he had been born. But she couldn’t really explain that to him in good conscience. There was really no other option than to roll with being the goddess he thought she was. With a sigh, she straightened her back and held her head high.

“Alright, I understand. You’ve certainly shown your conviction. I’m happy to have you as my bodyguard, so as reward for your loyalty and hard work, I'm giving you this.”

She held out her hand with her palm down and dropped the Spectral Amethyst. His eyes lit up excitedly as he scrambled to catch it. The sight made her smile, so he still liked gems. That was good to know. The gem was tilted towards the sun so he could admire the shine and cut of it when his happy face suddenly contorted into a frown. He lifted his head to say something but her words cut him off.

“Don’t say you are not worthy. I’m giving it to you because I deemed it fitting to give you.”

Goren didn’t have a mouth and therefore couldn’t smile, but if he did, she imagined he’d have a giant grin on his face. He was radiating pure happiness and pride. Popping off one of the amethysts on his side, he slid the spectral amethyst into the slot. Purple light flashed from it and it melded perfectly into his body. He caressed it lightly with one hand.

“Thank you My Lady, I will treasure it!”

She gave a small nod and rested her head against the bark. A tide of drowsiness washed over her so she closed her eyes for a nap and fell asleep to the soothing sounds of Goren resuming his digging .

________________

“Momon-san, may I ask why are we entering into this forest?”

The large imposing figure of a pitch black armor wearing warrior stood in front of the forest entrance with his arms crossed. Next to him was a beautiful black haired woman with a brown cloak covering her body. Both had shiny Adamantite plates hanging from their necks.

“Ah that’s right, you weren't present at the briefing. We were asked to investigate the creature behind the deaths of a whole village. It was a one sided slaughter with several bodies ripped apart, seemingly for no reason except for fun. The guild believes the wise king of the forest has some sort of twin and, since I tamed Hamsuke, has tasked us with taking this one down as well.”

“Understood! Though is that likely? I find it hard to believe there would be a similar creature so close and it not be known.”

Ainz nodded his head and turned to her.

“I have similar thoughts. Hamsuke, being as intent on finding a mate as she is, wouldn’t miss a being like her that is just one forest away. But even if she had, they would have similar fame. We would hear stories of another “Wise King of the Forest”. Plus Hamsuke is just territorial, not blood thirsty. This creature would be the same way due to species behavior. This has to be a different beast that has settled into new territory.”

Nabe nodded her head with an excited expression that said as expected of you.

“So then will Aura-sama be joining us again?”

“Yup Yup! Here I am~”

The cheerful voice of Aura drifted down from a tree. The heterochromia dark elf hung upside down with her legs bent across a branch. She gave a victory sign to an unphased Nabe and smiled cheerfully.

“I didn’t scare you this time Naberal! Hehe.”

Aura lifted her legs and dropped. Moments before she hit the ground, she twisted her body and landed perfectly on her feet.

“No you didn’t, thank you for that Aura-sama.”

Aura beamed and gave a thumbs up. She then twirled to face Ainz, waiting for orders. Reaching out his hand, he ruffled Aura’s hair. An almost unnoticeable look of jealousy crossed Naberal’s face, but vanished quickly. Pulling his hand back, Ainz addressed Aura.

“Thank you for coming. What were you able to find out?”

Aura blushed and giggled.

“Yes! I’ve scanned the forest and found several animals around but none that match what you’re looking for. There’s a section near the mountains where I was unable to see with my skill. I believe that the beast will be there but we’ll need to investigate it in person.”

Ainz rubbed his chin in thought.

“I see. Lead the way, but be cautious and discreet.”

Aura nodded and strolled into the forest with her hands clasped behind her head. Ainz and Naberal trailed closely after her.

Ainz kept his eyes, well non-existent eyes, peeled on his surroundings. Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. It was just normal trees and foliage, but he couldn’t help but feel the suffocating weight of suspense. He was apprehensive about Aura being unable to investigate the area. As a level 100 NPC, she was vastly more powerful than any creature or person he had encountered so far in this new world. A ranger of her caliber should be able to see past any concealment a common or even above average adventurer could create. Was this a hidden power of the new world or did it have something to do with Yggdrasil? What if the reason she couldn’t see was related to the people who had brainwashed Shalltear?

The thought of retreating quickly entered his mind. Afterall, it’d be hypocritical for him to continue on blind and unprepared after he had lectured Narberal on the same thing previously.

Ainz sighed and slid his swords from their sheathes. He couldn’t really do so though. It was a request from the adventurer’s guild, so he was limited in the actions he could take. If it was possible, he’d prefer to drop Perfect Warrior and proceed as a magic caster, but there he wasn’t prepared to risk having his identity as Momon revealed so soon.

“Aura, what else can you tell me? Even the smallest of details could prove useful.”

“Hmm~ Well, I noticed that all of the animals in the forest seem to largely avoid where we’re headed. It's like a powerful and highly territorial beast lives there. I’ve seen that several of the more powerful animals had severe injuries. I assume that whatever resides where we’re going just recently fought with them and obtained the territory. I couldn’t find any tracks or feeding indicators, so I have no clue about what it is. It’d be interesting if it was an undiscovered beast! Ainz-sama, if it is not necessary for your plans, could I have it afterwards?”

Aura’s eyes shined brightly and resembled puppy eyes. It wasn’t quite a pout but it was close enough to affect Ainz.

“Ahem, If it is not useful, sure.”

Aura grinned and began to hum, internally thinking about what kind of creature she hoped it’d be.

Ainz gazed at her carefree back. Bukubukuchagama had designed her to be very cheerful and laidback. It showed well in her actions. Was it her endearingness as a child or her personality that made him want to spoil her? He viewed all the guardians as his children, but he felt especially protective towards Aura and Mare. But they viewed him as a superior so would him acting as such cause issues in the future? How should one act as a father and a boss anyway? The life of a superior was full of-

Boom

The ground under Aura exploded in fire, dirt and root debri flying in every direction. The force threw her into the air, sending her flying. She reacted quickly, her whip splitting the air and attaching to a tree branch.The forward momentum allowed her to swing around the branch until she had slowed enough to drop down to her feet.

Nabe shifted in front of Ainz, her arm outstretched and glowing blue ready to attack. Ainz felt panic shoot through him as he watched the events unfold in front of him.

“Aura! Are you alright?!”

Aura made a show of brushing the dirt and soot away from her clothes. There were no visible injuries or blood at all. The impact had left her unharmed.

“I’m fine, no damage at all!”

The panic ebbed away into relief then into nothing as Ainz’s emotional suppression kicked in. He took a battle stance, his swords raised and ready to strike, and scanned the area. But only the greenery surrounded them.

“Ainz-sama, we weren’t attacked. I tripped an Explosive Land Mine.”

“What? But how? You should be able to detect these types of traps with ease.”

Aura approached the hole the explosion had left and examined it. Now that the trap had activated, she could feel the magical residue left behind of it.

“I don’t know. I was using my detection skills but wasn’t able to notice it.”

Aura ran her hand along the hole and analyzed the dirt. The casual cheerfulness from before was replaced by a heavy seriousness. Even though Aura did not have trap detection skills, she should still have been able to identify traps of a certain level. There were many things that Ainz was certain of and one of them was that so far they had not directly encountered anyone that was capable of rivaling the guardians. There was something of considerable strength in these woods for sure. Forget the adventurer’s guild for now. He’d come up with an excuse for them later. It was too dangerous for them to stay here with their current attack force.

“Aura! Nabe! We’re falling back! There are too many unknowns here for us to continue.”

Ainz turned to retreat towards the entrance of the forest, but a chain of screaming alarms and the panicked voice of Narberal stopped him.

“Ainz-sama! We’ve tripped an alarm.”

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Prepare for an attack!”

All three of them raised their weapons and waited for the incoming enemy. A beat then two went by with nothing until-

Shriek

An invisible blade scratched against the surface of Ainz’s shoulder, leaving a long gouge on its surface. Ainz slashed down in front of him and only sliced through the air.

Shriek

Boom

The blade cut across his back, a large scratch left in its place. Dirt flew through the air as the area behind Ainz blew up in smoke as a spell hit nothing. Narberal’s arm was outstretched from casting and the blade sliced across her arm, causing blood to well up.

“Use detection magic!”

Ainz screamed to Narberal, tensing his body in preparation for another attack. She nodded and quickly cast it, but nothing changed. The enemy remained undetectable.

“I can’t see it! It’s concealment is more powerful than my detection!”

“Protect Ainz-sama!”

Yelled Aura, rushing to him with her whip in her hand. She slashed horizontally in an arc and felt an impact on the end. The whip swung outward once more, but hit nothing. Slight pain erupted from her back as the blade sliced across her armor, but the dragon scales integrity held, causing no direct damage. A slight breeze brushed against her side and she swung her leg towards it. Her hit connected to something and it flew into a tree, wood chips flying everywhere. The tree groaned and snapped, falling over with a loud impact. Combining their attacks, Aura and Nabe struck but they only hit the fallen tree. The invisible enemy had recovered quickly.

Both focused their hearing on the surroundings, but they could only hear the ambience of the forest. Suddenly, both felt the gash of the blade slicing their respective shoulders. Narberal drew her sword and slashed behind her but missed once again.

“There’s more than one!”

Aura exclaimed, switching out her whip for her bow. She drew the string and, using her targeting skill, let it go. The arrow shot straight out at lightning speed until it suddenly curved, chasing the enemy. It pierced into the air and stayed lodged in the enemy’s body. The arrow bobbed as the enemy tried to pull it out, but it was impaled too deeply in its body.

“There’s one!”

“Good, distract the other one too!!”

Ainz yelled to them, attempting to undo Perfect Warrior. The battle was too disadvantageous for them at the moment. If they just had assassins, Solution or Cz, here the battle would be different. He could hear the voices of Albedo and Demiurge in his head telling him to retreat for now but he ignored them. He couldn’t bear to leave the Aura and Naberal behind. If he could just switch back to being a magic caster and use Arcane Vision, the tides would be turned.

The air with the lodged arrow was barraged with lightning as Narberal focused her attacks. The enemy lit up bright blue as the lightning struck them and coursed through their body. Aura loosed another arrow and it zoomed forward. The two ends stopped and fell limply to the ground as it was sliced cleanly in half. The arrows were continually shot and cut as they got closer and closer to where Ainz was standing. She shot one last arrow and, as she watched it get slashed through, lashed her whip forward, wrapping tightly around the torso of the enemy.

Lightning surged through the body of the arrow impaled being one last time as the invisibility shorted out and its body flashed into view. The silver and gem filled being only stayed visible for a second, then evaporated in black smoke.

Ainz was a second away from dropping Perfect Warrior a strong force slammed into the side of his body. He slid back a few meters, his feet digging into the ground and sending dirt and grass flying as he prevented himself from going airborne.

Instantaneously, a barrage of inky black arrows rained down from the sky. They slammed heavy into all three of them. Aura gripped her whip tightly, not willing to let the enemy free. Blood poured down the side of her head from her injuries. Narberal forced herself through the arrow storm to Ainz and cast Shield Wall above him. The air above them lit up with a cyan wall that was textured like a turtle’s shell. Time seemed to slow for Ainz as he hurried himself to drop perfect warrior.

Tick, the arrows colliding heavily against the shield.

Tock, the blood dripping down both Aura and Narberal’s body.

Tick, the enemy breaking free from its confinement.

Tock, Perfect Warrior finally disappearing and revealing his skeletal form.

Tick, the chaos halting immediately.

Arrows no longer fell from the sky and the invisible being was no longer attacking either. For a moment, he wondered if time had actually stopped, but the sounds of Aura’s and Narberal’s heavy breathing dispelled that thought. What happened? He hadn’t done anything yet.

The enemy dropped his Perfect Unknowable and revealed his silver and gem laden angelic body. Aura and Narberal tightened their grip on their weapons with a grimace as Ainz prepared a spell. For a minute, there was nothing except for the thick tension bearing down on them all. The sudden and unexpected voice of the angel broke the silence.

“Understood, My lady.”

The angel leaned forward to give them a bow.

“I apologize for attacking you. I was unaware of your true identity. If you allow me, I can heal your injuries.”

Aura and Narberal stared at him in confusion before turning to Ainz for guidance. He paused to think, but eventually gave them a small nod. They all watched vigilantly as the angel stepped forward and cast healing on them. Their wounds stitched themselves together instantly and the blood disappeared in a red mist. So the angel hadn’t been lying. What was it thinking? Did it actually know about their identity? Or was it some kind of feint to get their guards down?

“My lady would like to meet you. If you would follow me to meet her, please. She said you are welcome to refuse, but she hopes that you don’t.”

My lady? Could it be? Was it possible that one of his guildmates had made it here as well? His undead heart jolted with happiness. Bukubukuchagama, Yamaiko, Ankoro Mocchi Mochi, Zoba, any of them being here would be amazing.

Ainz smiled internally and nodded to the angel.

“I’d like to meet her as well.”

________________________

Kelpie was jolted awake by the screaming alarm of the crystals. The sudden movement caused her balance to break and she slipped off the tree. Her tail was still firmly wrapped around the branch so she hung pathetically upside down. Looking around, Goren was nowhere in her sight. He had probably already finished up the setup, evidenced by the racket coming from the crystals, and gone to investigate who had tripped the alarms. She forced her upper body up and grabbed the branch. Letting her tail slacken from the branch she dropped to the ground. She landed easily, a small thud resulting from the impact, and brushed her hands off. The alarm didn’t worry her too much since there were still animals roaming around the forest. Any of them could have caused an unexpected triggering. Eventually, she would understand the animals’ habits and routines and would be able to configure the alarms to ignore them.

She rolled her shoulders back and sighed when they gave a satisfying crack. The nap had been a much needed moment of peace and relaxation, but it hadn’t been as comfortable as it could have been. Maybe she should create some kind of tree hammock for herself. She could even experiment with the various materials she had to discover some new interesting effects. Maybe some kind of sleeping enchantment to make napping easier?

She pulled her research book from her inventory and started jotting various ideas down. When Goren got back, she would ask his advice on them. Perhaps some of the animals in the forest would have some good fur to use as well. She turned her back to go to the cave, still brainstorming ideas, when a distant crack and crash gave her pause. It was the sound of a tree being knocked to the ground violently.

She whipped around and stared into the forest. That wasn’t a natural sound for a sunny day. Was something fighting currently? She closed her eyes and listened closely. Faintly, she could hear the clashes of metal on metal.

…

Shit!

Some people were fighting and she had a feeling Goren was one of them. She rushed back to the tree and scaled to the top.

“[ Sky Eye ]”

She closed her eyes and when she opened them, she could see the bird’s eye view of the forest. At first she could only see the green tops of trees, but looking around, she was able to find the fight. Three people fighting against an invisible foe. It didn’t take much for her to realize the foe was Goren fighting against the intruders. The two not in armor seemed slightly familiar to her, but the memory of them danced on the edge of her memory. She did not try too hard to remember though. Right now, they were intruders and needed to be taken care of.

Kelpie watched as Goren fought on. So far, he had the advantage of being undetectable and having his shadow clone. She found it interesting to see him fight since she had never had the chance in Yggdrasil. He had good tactics and was able to avoid attacks and deal damage well, but that was as expected. He was proficient in both the assassin and ninja class. Only high level players could actually see through his invisibility.

She frowned when an arrow impaled one of them. She didn’t know if it was Goren or the clone, but she hoped it was the clone. When the dark elf wrapped its whip around the other, she slid her bow from her inventory. It was a blue and purple gradient longbow with inwardly curving long black spikes with small purples stars on the surface. She readied her shot at the elf, but paused when she noticed the large warrior. He was standing completely still, not even reacting to the sliced through arrows getting closer and closer to him.

What was he up to? Probably not something she wanted him to do. She shifted her aim over and let loose the inky black swirling arrow. It cut through the air and slammed into the warrior, sending him skidding across the ground. Her mouth quirked up into a smile. Good. She pulled the golden string taut, the arrow ready to fly.

“[ Arrow Barrage ]”

Arrow after arrow appeared in front of the bow, lined in rows, until there were around twenty of them. Her arms trembled as she pulled the string back another inch and then let go. The arrows flew forward, whistling through the air, towards the group. Without waiting for the first barrage to hit, she kept shooting.

The mage set up a shield and she clicked her tongue in annoyance. It was a good move, annoying but good. She forced her arm to release the arrows faster and faster. Her heartbeat synced in time with her shots as she was unable to pierce the shield.

“Fuck, [ Comet Blast ]”

The arrow in her string glowed icy blue and emitted a cold mist. She pulled the string back tight, letting the arrow grow larger and larger until the tip formed a sharp icicle tip.

One second, she took a deep breath.

Two seconds, her body tensed, ready to release the arrow.

Three seconds, the warriors armor disappeared, revealing an imposing skeletal mage.

Four seconds, the string slipped from her hand, the arrow barreling into a random tree.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the figure.

It was Momonga…

Momonga!

A laugh escaped her. He was here! He had been transported here as well!

Realizing the current situation and acting quickly, she sent a message to Goren.

“Goren! Stop attacking and reveal yourself! He is a friend of mine.”

“Understood, My Lady.”

The return message came immediately and she could see Goren following her orders and healing the two women. She remembered now. They were Narberal Gamma and Aura Bella Fiora from the guild of Ainz Ooal Gown. Seemed like Momonga had been transported with his base and NPCs too. She smiled widely at the thought. Her and Goren wouldn’t be alone anymore.

“I’d like you to escort them to me, but respect their answer if they say no.”

She waited with bated breath as Goren relayed her request. The moment Momonga nodded, she twirled around in happiness, her tail thumping the branch excitedly. She jumped off the tree and stood by the entrance of the cave for when they would arrive.

#overlord #a lady's tail #chapter 3 #kelpie #kelpie dark #goren #my oc #my writing

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clan-sayeed-fic · 4 years

Text

Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Warnings: angst Rating: Mature Author's note: I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

This chapter is shorter than last ones, don't hate me haha

I was thinking that I'll be able to upload the 15th chapter today too. But since I was at work yesterday and I'm going there today too, right after posting this, I know for sure that it won't happen.

When I came back home yesterday, I was so exhausted like whoa... I love this job, but when I'm not working day after day in it, it takes a lot of my energy to adjust. And what amazes me the most is that even if I can barely stand on my feet from exhaustion, I cannot fall asleep like wth... and the fun fact is that around 1:30 a.m. I came up with the last line of this fic hahaha

Idk if anyone even reads those notes haha maybe, it's better if you don't. I'm going to answer your comments, if you leave some, in the evening😄 (12 noon here)

~ 1400 words

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Chapter 14

"I wouldn't worry about what happened this much, little girl," Adam's voice got Amy's mind out of her thoughts.

Without thinking, she took a glass of water that he held for her.

Amy retained only a few flashbacks from their ride to this place. The moment when she got into a limousine. A short talk with Adam, who tried his best to make her feel better. After that, she remembered getting out of the car and how she found herself in the town suburbs. In front of the impressive mansion.

The last thing she knew was the sound of her own voice refusing the offer of wine since she still felt the end of the hangover.

And now, there she was. Sitting on this enormous, white couch. Surrounded by ornaments worth millions.

Amy took a sip of water, letting the cold liquid flow down her throat.

Another single tear escaped her eye, traveling down her cheek before she wiped it away. She hadn't felt this alone and broken during those long four years. Amy made promises in her life that she would be tough, never cry, and move on. For them.

"I know what'll make you feel better," Adam's words drew her attention. "Come with me, I can show you something wonderful."

Amy forced a weak smile and stood up, following his steps.

They walked through the living room, in the opposite direction than the main entrance. Adam guided her to other doors, which were leading to the back yard of the mansion. The man opened the doors and gestured Amy to go outside. It was still daylight, so he had to stay in the shadows.

Amy walked through the doors, being blinded by the artificial light. Her eyes needed a few moments to adjust to this source of light before she could take the surroundings in. And the view she saw was truly breathtaking.

Amy didn't know how it was possible that, despite bad weather outside, the flora here was growing such beautifully. She couldn't decide if it was thanks to the heat lamp and equally heated ground or some talented and devoted gardeners.

Either way, the creation was a true masterpiece.

The grass was mown equally, surrounding the flowers. The flora was varied in so many ways. Starting from colors, kind, to height. There were plants that she saw many times in different gardens in New York so far. But also some of them were exotic, unknown for Amy.

In the center of the garden was growing an impressive, old weeping willow. Its stems were dancing slowly in the weak wind. Some of the leaves reaching the ground, some using the wind to fly as high as it was possible.

And that was the plant that especially got Amy's attention.

She stood speechless, looking at the tree, feeling warmth spreading in her chest. Feeling of safeness.

"I can see you're mesmerized by that Salix babylonica," Adam grinned behind her.

Amy snapped out of her thoughts and smiled, feeling better.

"I reminded myself that I have seen this kind of tree somewhere else before," she said mostly to herself.

"Ah, memories..." Adam spoke with his charismatic tone. "They are a fascinating thing, aren't they? I always say... if you desire to understand someone properly, you need to face his recollections at first."

Those were powerful words that hit straight to Amy's heart.

"There is some truth in that," Amy said, her mind uncontrollably traveling to Kamilah.

They turned around and walked inside the building.

Adam stopped near the bar, filling his glass with white wine. Once again, he looked at Amy with an unspoken offer.

"Oh, thank you, I'm good," her answer was still the same, but he didn't push her.

He walked Amy to the living room, and they both sat down on the couch at an appropriate distance from each other. For a moment, no one was stopping the silence that fell between them.

Adam was gathering his thoughts and pieces of information that he had learned about this human so far. He always needed to be prepared for how the conversation would go. The coincidence in his speech wasn't an option.

"Priya told me about the night when you were working as her waitress," Adam started, taking a little sip of his drink. "I feel utterly sorry for you getting to know all of this under such terrible circumstances."

Amy looked into his eyes, and she couldn't find a lie in them. Either he was telling the truth, or she was too blind at that moment to see his manipulative side.

"It happened," Amy swallowed, rethinking what she can do and tell around this man. "And I don't regret this."

"Even turning your best friend into the vampire?" Adam asked, without judgment in his voice.

Amy moved nervously on the couch, trying to hold back her emotions.

"If you're asking me what would I rather do: undo Lily's death or getting to know all of this. The answer is obvious," Amy's expression serious. "I would never sacrifice my friend for getting us into this."

"Loyalty, I respect that," Adam clasped in his hands, putting the glass aside. "I bet you have something that most humans are searching for in a friend."

Amy felt touched by those words.

"Why are you distinguishing humans and vampires so much?" Amy asked with curiosity, trying to not sound too brazenly.

Adam stopped smiling for a moment. She took him off gourd, and that was not an easy thing to accomplish. He quickly composed himself and spoke with his usual, confident, and eloquent manner.

"Because the human part is long gone as soon as you become the vampire, my friend," Adam was waiting for Amy's agreement. He was used to people agreeing with him, but it didn't happen this time. "But, from what I can notice, you're seeing things differently?"

Amy looked at her hands while thinking about her opinion on this subject. She wasn't such naive, even if she was feeling hurt about what happened between her and Kamilah. She still knew that she had to choose words carefully when it went to this man.

"I believe that everyone is worth redemption," she said, keeping gaze of his brown eyes.

Adam smiled, being sure that Amy had nothing else to say. And when he wanted to add his few words, she spoke again.

"And..." Amy's voice was full of hope. "I believe that if you once were a human... then losing humanity after turning depends on you."

Amy choose her words on purpose. Especially those which referred to being a human before turning. She knew that even people could behave without humanity or mercy. There's no need to be a vampire to act like a bloodlust creature. And she knew that those people freaked her out even more than this new world that she was still adjusting to living in.

"I can see now what Adrian and Kamilah saw in you," Adam's voice sounded absent.

At that moment, a chauffeur walked into the living room, clearing his throat.

"You called me, sir," he bowed before them.

"Indeed," Adam cheered up, shifting back to his usual behavior. "I want you to drive Ms. Campbell to her apartment."

The chauffeur smiled at Amy, so she returned the gesture feeling more relaxed when another person appeared in the room. She stood up and followed the young man to the doors after saying goodbye to Adam.

When she was near the entrance, Adam's voice stopped her.

"And, Amelia...." he said with a neutral tone. "I'm still thinking about our deal."

Amy froze for a moment. Her muscles tensed due to the sound of the name that she hadn't heard in years. Quickly, she regained control over her body and voice, thinking that it was a common mistake to consider her name as a shortcut from Amelia.

Keeping her eyes and facial expression under control, she turned around, smiling naturally.

"You know where to find me," she said with fake confidence in her voice.

After those words, Amy turned around and walked out of the house, heading to the limo.

A bad feeling curled under her skin, but sanity made her think that it was just a coincidence.

And, as Adam said, their deal was still on.

The only thing that Amy was not aware of was how valuable information Adam learned this day.

And how it would affect his next move.

Next chapter: 15

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tag list: @onyxgaytrash, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @caliseds,

@lightning-fury I know this chapter is more like a tease, but it’s the beginning of my big plan haha

#bloodbound mc #kamilah x mc #adam vega #angst #bloodbound #choices bloodbound #choices bb #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #choices fic

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ddaenghoney · 4 years

Text

chapter seven

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): none.

Word count: 5064

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

Yoongi, 2:36pm: Can you meet me at my apartment? I have to upload some things, and my stylists are going to set up there.

Y/N, 2:37pm: Yeah, hopefully I’ll be there before four. I don’t know what Yerin wants.

Your head lifts from your rigid posture on the couch, glancing in the direction of the elevator as a random employee delivers mail to the secretary. She told you to sit and wait approximately twenty minutes ago. The man returns to the elevator, bidding a cheerful goodbye to the girl who waves back at him. Your eyebrows furrow back down at your lap, hoping her normal demeanor can be taken as a positive sign for you.

Yoongi, 2:40pm: Whatever she says can’t be too awful. You haven’t done anything wrong.

Though you’re inclined to agree, at this point in your hole of misdeeds you wonder if even the tiniest things could set her off nowadays. The dates you and Yoongi go on aren’t blatantly full of affection, but given your mutual lack of acting--and desire to be affectionate with one another, you think you’re both done pretty good. Twitter likes it all, from what you have looked at, and celebrity news outlets commonly refer to you both positively as well.

Y/N, 2:42pm: Maybe she’s going to ask me to break up with you at the dinner thing later

Yoongi, 2:43pm: Wouldn’t you like that lol

Yoongi, 2:43pm: Well me too though

If anything good has come from the fake dating, it’s getting on stable foundation with Yoongi. Especially where production is concerned, he’s your favorite person to work with, even if all the things he’s let you have been informal content. The collaborative efforts have been a great use of your spare time, so much so that you don’t mind if they don’t amount to anything he’ll ever actually use. He said the songs aren’t likely to be, because of what he wants done with him, and how their styles won’t work properly with the conjured persona his management team deeply loves to publicize.

An image that you’ve found to be quite different to whom Yoongi actually is. One he also dislikes.

Yoongi, 2:50pm: I’m ordering pizza because I hear the food they plan to serve is going to be weird

Y/N, 2:50pm: You’re a hero… If you get cheese stuffed crust… I’ll buy one million copies of your next album….

Yoongi, 2:51pm: Get your wallet ready then (was already getting stuffed crust though)

“Ms.,” You turn your gaze to the secretary, thoughts of the enjoyable comfort food drifting from your thoughts as she smiles politely, “Ms. Baek is ready for you.”

Walking into the office, you’re met with Yerin sitting back relaxed in her seat, seemingly tranquil. She gestures with her hand to the empty chair across her desk, then uses it to take hold of her coffee mug, taking a languid sip. Unassuming, somewhat welcoming. You remain proper in the straightness of your spine as you sit, simply saying a small greeting that felt repressed like you were in her presence.

“I won’t take long with this.” She flips her hair behind her shoulder, rolling the wheels of her seat closer to the desk. “Just a check-up.” You nod, not fully understanding what she means, considering she hasn’t done anything like this since your first year of working in the company. “From what I see in the press the relationship is going over nicely. It helps giving some official information first to the main news sites that’ll give beneficial commentary.” She goes on like there’s a check-list of points in her head to cross off, while you nod. The first headline to drop the company’s official statement dressed the relationship with pretty phrasing, and light-hearted banter in the paragraphs about pictures of you and Yoongi on the first visible date. “It may start getting a little trickier now, though.” She takes another moment to drink her beverage while you noticeably frown.

“The appeal won’t simply die down?” You ask, words weightless of strength and only curious. Yerin shakes her head, finger tapping on her notepad while she explains,

“No, there’s always going to be a desire for public pictures of an open relationship like this; especially considering Min Yoongi’s prestige in the public’s eye.” At that you nod once, accepting that tidbit of information to be correct, especially with how much acclaim his work has received in recent years. “With that being said, there needs to be more out of you both.”

You only stare at her, taking in the ideas behind her words, hoping you’re misunderstanding, but knowing that not to be the case.

“Yes, as in more physical interaction.” Straightforward. Yerin rests her chin on her hand as though what she’s saying is cumbersome to explain. She shrugs, catching you off-guard as she beats you to commentary, “I know it’s obnoxious and, perhaps, uncomfortable, but that’s how it is. I’m not telling you to make out with each other in the streets, but hand-holding won’t cut it forever.”

“I,” You bite your lip, not happy with the idea of talking back to her, considering you and Yoongi had already gone in this deep with the thing. But you should speak for yourself. “I don’t think I can do things like that with someone I don’t genuinely like in that way. It’s going to look awkward-- I can’t even see Yoongi agreeing to this idea, either.”

“I know he wouldn’t.” She nods, glancing from you to the window. “Like I say: I don’t need you both to make out, or even kiss. In fact, I don’t want you both to be spotted kissing, that runs the risk of being too unprofessional. Just act more friendly than you both do now. You can still have your boundaries of no real physical affection, but delve deeper for the sake of cameras and people outside of the company’s perception.”

Your head tilts in disappointment of her unwavering decision, though you can’t help but agree with her worry of media’s perception. Not that you truly wanted to deceive people, but from the objective perspective of a general person, Yoongi and you only ever held hands in public, sat across at tables with no further physical interaction-- you both haven’t even faked a selfie session. You bite the inside of your cheek, still trying the last card, “And if Yoongi doesn’t go along with this at all?”

“He will.” Yerin cooly responds to you, finally shifting her crisp stare back to your person. You’re stiff at her words’ finality, wondering how she can be so sure. “Besides that all,” Her calculative actions and stoic demeanor are truly the most intimidating things about Yerin. “You’ve been working on music with him.”

Like how she’s able to state information she has received without you possibly understanding where she would have received it from.

“Y-Yeah,” Because you’re surprised, the affirmation stutters, but you clear it up in the retort. “It’s not against policy.” She nods in agreement,

“No, it’s not. I’m not upset with the fact. Just acknowledging it. Of course I’d want the best of the company’s songwriters to be collaborative with one another.” You nibble on your lip, eyes widening slightly at the high-praise of your value. “I was going to try and get you to help him with his upcoming album anyways; it’s best that it happened naturally, considering how particular he is.” Your shoulders feel less burdened to straighten, fueled by the change in topics that ended up being so much more uplifting than you would like to admit out loud. “Keep up the good work. It always shows you do your best.”

---

A plate with crumbs and the faint remains of a few drops of tomato sauce sit cold on the night stand beside Yoongi’s bed. You sit in a desk chair wheeled in from his spare room under bright lights the stylists brought from the company as you receive their final touches of makeup. It feels like an hour has passed, making you murmur of worry at the idea you and Yoongi would arrive late to this dinner he was cordially invited to.

But on the other hand you’re fine with the delay. Still trying to figure out a way to express Yerin’s order of more PDA to Yoongi, after avoiding discussion of anything in regards to the meeting once you arrived at his apartment. Timely as it was, he had just finished his appearance preparations, and greeted you with steaming slices of cheesy pizza questioning immediately if everything went okay.

You hurried in a yes, fumbling over words but able to avoid untactfully blurting that she wants more from you both.

“Y/N,” The familiar stylist says your name with pride, overlooking you from behind as you take in your freshly styled makeup, hair, and the perfectly fitting dress that you chose out of five options. It holds the contours of your figure with grace, a bandeau-style neckline, with the sleeves purposefully sewn to fall off your shoulders loosely, and somehow in an ethereal way. The fabric’s shine under the fluorescence entirely highlights the rich shade of bronze, and as you take in the entirety of the ensemble-- beautifully black heels and all-- you can definitely agree with the tone that the stylist goes on in. “This dress kills. You have great taste.”

If the foundation didn’t layer your skin, you’d likely have a noticeable flush of confidence, but that aspect is evident in your widening smile. Hell, looking this nice may be convincing enough for Yoongi attend more to those demands Yerin asked you of.

You bite your lip at the thought, head shifting to disperse it entirely--silly idea, maybe even conceited, plus it’s Yoongi you’re talking about. It’s only Yoongi.

“Wow,” You catch sight of the man himself enter behind you, his reflection in the mirror showcasing a fixated, noticeably surprised, expression. Your chest beats with more warmth, fueled in confidence from his reaction that you didn’t genuinely think would occur. You turn, biting your inner cheek as he simply remains quiet, unabashedly taking in the outfit as you properly faced him. Then Yoongi startles in the quiet, releasing the door knob from his hand and entering into his bedroom, wandering towards the rack of clothing that was brought for him, facing it as he finishes. “You look nice, Y/N.”

“Nice isn’t enough, Yoongi.” You nearly cough as his stylist interrupts the moment, missing your lips tighten to refrain from smiling bashfully at his comment. “You should tell her at least a paragraph’s worth of words-- I mean, look at her!” She rambles, adjusting his suit coat while Yoongi allows her to, casting you a glance. This one contained entirely to find your eyes. He smiles softly and nods as though to tell you he genuinely means the small sentence he said.

You didn’t need him to. You knew.

“So,” Yoongi says, comfortably beside you as you both ride to the destination. “Sorry if this dinner thing ends up being really boring for you.” He speaks quietly, somewhat slowly like he’s looking for something to comment on. “I wanted to skip it, since I’m not a fan of the host, but couldn’t get out of it with Yerin.”

You know the statements reasoning invite you to question his disdain of the host, but you miss the chance to keep on track with the subject of Yerin. “Speaking of Yerin,” Watching him flinch a little as your voice raises, you just ignore it and get out the phrasing as innocently as you can, “She,” You reach to fiddle with your hair, smiling in a nervous manner that he could get upset by the idea. Yoongi’s lips curl a little in a frown, taking in your evident worry about whatever you are about to say, and he knew he had the right idea when you shuffled past him to get your makeup done, barely remembering to get pizza until he reminded you. Something definitely happened. “She wants us to be a bit more physical than just holding hands.” Your voice trails, as does your eye contact in favor of the seat’s polyester.

Yoongi’s frown remains, due now to the confusion on why that was so difficult for you to say to him. Judging by past interactions with her, he had a feeling that would eventually come. The idea that she directly asked you instead of having himself present as well for the request makes him uncomfortable. Wondering what her methodology was when this message clearly made you worried to pass along. He sighs, irritated again by the odd work relationship between you and Yerin. But Yoongi’s gentle as he answers you, subconsciously happy when he notices your shoulders lose tension and he settles your small bundling worries. “That’s okay. We’ll figure out some other stuff to pacify the media.”

Your eyes find Yoongi’s profile as he looks out at the passing evening scenery. You’re skeptical. He was just as against the fake relationship as you were in the beginning, so seeing him go along with this new addition as easily as this feels strange. And you wonder even more how Yerin was able to assure you this occurring outcome would come to be. “I’m sorry I couldn’t convince her against it.”

Yoongi faces you, eyebrows furrowing in dismay at your need to apologize, “This isn’t your fault; you don’t need to apologize.” He shrugs, admitting softly, “I had a feeling she’d want more eventually.”

“But not a lot, don’t worry.” You try to soothe your own discomfort as you remind yourself, “Just small things-- not kissing obviously.” Yoongi chuckles, rubbing his neck, humored by the way you pop in small comments.

“Obviously.” He mimics your tone, earning a small pat from you against his arm as you pout at the teasing. Embarrassed, but he didn’t push it. “I know what you mean, Y/N. It’ll be okay, we’re not doing anything either of us are uncomfortable with.”

“Do you want to have some sort of signal in case we cross boundaries like that?” You ponder ideas of how to be subtle, but pause as Yoongi murmurs absently, as though what he says is casual knowledge,

“I think we understand each other well enough to know without that.” Despite the statement sounding unassuming, you can’t deny little jitters of warmth at its implication, but you shrug them away, thinking in the end that it’s silly to read so much into simple things like that.

The car comes to a stop, the area outside sparse of crowds due to the lowkey nature of the dinner party that is apparently only supposed to be learned about after the event concludes. Nonetheless, you exit from the vehicle, holding Yoongi’s hand as he helps you out. The usual. Leading you both into the tower, you think maybe posting a picture with him on your social media account could be enough to suffice for the evening, leaving you both with an opportunity to think of other things for future dates, but as Yoongi’s hand strays to find a gentle purchase around your waist, tugging you closer to him in the slightly busy elevator shaft, you realize he’s able to adapt easily to the new parameters of the fake relationship. Like he didn’t have to think at all.

“Too much?” The words feel like they brush into your hair, but so quietly in order to keep the other few people in the elevator as away from the question as possible. Your head shakes only a little, and it’s not enough to convince him as the grip begins to loosen, then stray away, but you can’t be the only one lagging in this. He didn’t like it either, but you shouldn’t force Yoongi into making all of the effort. You hand shadows over his before it leaves your waist, keeping it situated, warmth leaving the tips of your fingers and onto his skin chilled from the short walk inside. “Okay.” You register his nodding beside, as well as the fluster very slightly in his voice.

Your responsive giggling falls before you’re able to stop it, humored by his shy reaction and how you thought Yoongi was effortless in acting like your boyfriend. Clearly as nervous about the small things as you are. You shift closer towards him when his hand suddenly squeezes in a tickling manner, and you glance up at him only to try harder to muffle laughter as he looks down at you completely embarrassed with his lips straight in a tight line that makes his cheeks fuller.

“Stop-”

“I’m sorry.” You nod away the entertained thoughts, then smile at him dramatically, overly apologetic, trying to play it all away with humor. Yoongi just shakes his head, sighing softly when the door opens.

“I’m not good at this I know.” He says vaguely enough for those who could happen to listen in, but of course you understand. As such you shake your head, walking as he leads you both to the reception area cluttered with celebrities and those sporting designer clothing to fit into it all.

“Listen, we both clearly suck at this.” You respond, catching sight of the refreshments going around on dishes. Yoongi was right: they looked weird. “But we’ll probably get better, I guess.” You shrug, wondering why the event is called a dinner party when no formal dining tables were anywhere to be seen. Instead, you catch sight of people throughout the music industry and beyond, casually involved with one another in dignified manners. Practiced at the art of social interaction, and from what you could see most weren’t meeting for the first time that evening. Feeling like you’re the odd one out. “Don’t ditch me in this, please.”

“No plans of that. Don’t worry.” You step in further with him, altering position so that his hand leaves your waist in favor of your hand, for the ease of walking. You keep close, realizing more and more by your unfamiliarity with everyone that you’re not a part of the world that plays out in the party. Idol and producer Min Yoongi’s date, but not songwriter and producer yourself.

“Just when I thought I was going to get iced out of here.” Walking ceases at a clear voice that causes Yoongi to pause, looking beyond you while you do the same. You immediately bite your lip, trying to refrain from the shock of Jung Hoseok walking towards the two of you, suit sleek, with the patterned shirt beneath it glimmering, a flute of a drink half-finished in his hand, and a bright smirk present. You’re silent, glancing back to Yoongi who responds instantaneously,

“How are you here?” Yoongi speaks quietly, eyes narrowing with baffled shock. You try to think back on any mentions of him knowing Hoseok before, but draw blanks. Then again, why wouldn’t we, they worked at the same company previously. You narrow your eyes at this thought, in your own world for the moment while you get vague recollection of headlines surrounding Hoseok about a year earlier than you hadn’t paid much attention to. The implications of so leading to his removal from the company, and left uncontracted to SoundWave following the merger.

“Believe it or not, people still like me that aren’t the press.” He says with a shrug, sipping at his flute while Yoongi continues to look perplexed by Hoseok standing there. You can’t think of why in particular. Hoseok looks to you before Yoongi can fumble out any other response, smiling politely with an extending hand, “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself. You must be Y/N. I’m Hoseok.”

“You know who I am?” You ask in surprise, then recall his hand and shake it in greeting.

“Yoongi told me about you-”

“Hoseok, this is Seulgi’s party.” Yoongi’s continued concern shows, attempting to get Hoseok back on task to the conversation of being there. At mention of the host’s name, you remember it in relation to Hoseok’s in the headlines last year. Jimin had mentioned something about one of their careers getting damaged because of their relationship being caught in limelight. You hadn’t concerned yourself with that, instead fixating on the way the same could happen in your own situation, so as Yoongi sets the last piece of the puzzle in your mind, you revert into quiet.

Calmly looking up at Hoseok who turns his gaze back to Yoongi, you wonder like Yoongi what he’s doing there. A tiny part of you wanting to ask what happened if only to grasp at some fake comfort in knowing that it wouldn’t happen to you at this point. The only good thing perhaps that you could find so far.

“Obviously I know that.” He nods, taking a moment before speaking. “She let me in, it’s not like I snuck through security.” Yoongi’s hand around yours stiffens, worrying you a little that the small statement made him upset, but his expression looks torn instead. “Came with a friend that wanted to come.”

“Yoongi-” The three of you startle as a new person enters the hushed conversation. She steps passed Hoseok, ignoring his presence entirely, and instead smiling wide at Yoongi as she goes on, dress glittering under fluorescence. “You came after all. I’m glad.”

Where Hoseok’s sudden entrance felt easy to adjust to, the appearance of Seulgi is opposite. You feel uncertain of how to take in her sunshine tone towards Yoongi, while Hoseok takes another long drink to finish off his flute, eyes drifting from her to somewhere away. You swallow nervously, feeling implications hiding quietly around the bubble that felt hostile despite the cheerful demeanor the model and idol group member in front of you portrays. “Company said I had to.”

“Don’t be like that,” She teases reaching for a gentle nudge against Yoongi’s arm that intends to remain until he shrugs it off. The hand holding yours tightens once more, and you step closer to him before realizing so, concerned only with creating some type of barrier between them, because Yoongi seemed uncomfortable. “Ah,” Seulgi’s styled waves of rich brown fall over her shoulder as she looks towards you, polite smile, discerning eyes. “The rumors were true after all, hm?” She disregards greetings, head tilting back to Yoongi, “I want to catch up. I’ll show you to the open bar?”

“I’m not planning to drink much, or stay too long actually. Y/N and I have things to do in a while.” After listening to the decline, Seulgi’s eyes take a quick glance again, searching for confirmation that comes in the form of your head nodding, putting on a false, polite smile of your own. Your gaze perhaps more irritated than she would have liked to receive, so she smiles coyly. Nodding once, though chuckling sarcastically,

“What kind of plans happen at almost midnight on a Friday night, Yoon?” In the corner of your eye, Hoseok’s frame notably tenses, releasing a baffled scoff that Seulgi pays no mind to, and Yoongi doesn’t miss a beat in his reply,

“Things that don’t concern you.”

“Harsh.” She giggles like the conversation is an amusing game. “Y/N, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” You’re undeterred by her obviously knowing who you are, trying to roll with the punches as well as Yoongi does.

“You have your work cut out with this one.” She never looks at you as she speaks, never acknowledges Hoseok beside her, just intent on staring daggers into Yoongi’s eyes while the rest of her presents itself as quaint and easy-going.

“I didn’t ask.”

Seulgi’s head turns towards you, dark red lips parted for only a moment at your dry remark, before they close again. She properly takes you in, eyes narrowing in what appears to be a lapse of confusion, while Hoseok beside her chuckles in the midst of it all. She exhales a sigh at his antics, then a small smirk blossoms, matching the condescension in her speech, “Guess it’d be boring if he picked someone that can’t talk back.”

“Seulgi,” Yoongi steps between you two, eyes narrowed towards her but his voice is controlled, appearance utterly poised for any outsider to notice. She takes only a half step back, unafraid, but giving distance to cross her arms dismissively. “Leave her out of this. Don’t get any ideas.”

Seulgi looks at him silently, unbothered by the definite demand Yoongi speaks towards her. You get the feeling that she doesn’t buy it, likely hoping to push him even further. Letting you easily understand why Yoongi had so much reluctance in attending this particular event.

You tug the connection of your hands, causing Yoongi’s head to glance back at you, eyes speckled with the lighting and appearing concerned that something is wrong. Your lips tighten towards him, the smallest of head shakes telling him this isn’t worth it. You feel relaxation in his grip on your hand, returning to the feelings you’re used to, and Yoongi turns to Seulgi who speaks before he can get the two of you away, “Humor me with a chat.”

“Why should I?” His eyes narrow at her offer that she’s confident in. Seulgi takes a look to Hoseok who’s maintained near complete silence despite what his character is known for in the public. Eyes to Yoongi, releasing depth that you didn’t understand,

“Considering last year, you owe me.” Despite the majority of him faced away, you knew her statement struck a chord with Yoongi. Jaw stiffening and eyes narrowing in emotions other than anger. Like he lost to her. Lost to something that happened. You can’t help but frown, worry cascading around your stomach that tells you this isn’t a good change at all. As you turn to see Hoseok’s opinion on this discussion you find him only looking at Seulgi from the corner of his eyes, concerned, confused, curious.

If she was his ex then what does she want with Yoongi.

Yoongi sighs after what feels like an eternity, holding your hand still as he steps away from Seulgi and Hoseok only a few paces. His body faces from them, blocking you from their view as your holding hands dangle between you both. “I’m sorry, I need to talk to her though.”

You want to ask why but your lack of involvement and importance to Yoongi lead you to avoid that, but you’re visibly worried. Tone matching as you still try softly with concern, “Is everything okay, Yoongi?”

He nibbles his lip, though nods. Words gentle, apologetic. “I’ll tell you about it some other time, but I won’t take long.” He pauses, eyes appearing to frown in memory of his earlier promise to stay with you through the entire party. “I’m sorry, I really won’t be long. We can leave after; I don’t want to stay.”

You nod slowly, still wondering if you should let him, but having no reason to stop the situation that is the biggest cause of his discomfort. “Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re bad at lying.” He says softly, smiling a little sheepishly, while giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. You shake your head, but Yoongi halts you from your need to cover up. “I think you’re worried. It’ll be okay though, it won’t be a long talk. Wait for me at the bar?”

You nod, thinking he appears hesitant to leave you, even after releasing your hand. But Yoongi eventually turns, finding Seulgi patiently behind him despite her still crossed arms. Hoseok’s disappeared, escaped to another part of the venue, and you’re unsure if he spoke to her at all during your small discussion with Yoongi. Then Yoongi and Seulgi disappear as well, mixing into the crowds and going off somewhere.

You sigh, wondering about the dense amount of history and problems between the three of them, and thinking if Yoongi would be okay when he seemed so bothered by Seulgi’s implications. Stepping in the direction of the bar, you try to ignore it, leaving it to Yoongi to handle, because it is clear he wants to. Despite his obvious animosity there is something for him to work through. He said he’d tell you about it.

Your lip drags between your teeth in an attempt to smother the warmth you feel that he trusts you in that way. After Yoongi’s tried to give you an outlet for your problems, and trying to overlook his early judgements of your person to give you the benefit of the doubt, you feel happy that there could be a way for you to help him through any of his troubles as well.

Through the partygoers you walk along, finding the bar as lively as it would be. However, you’re not entirely interested in passing time with anything, instead using the location just as the place to meet with Yoongi after his discussion concludes. You take another look at the attendees, curious if any other big names that you admire have come out, but for the most part see artists of other agencies, socialites, and people you’ve never seen before in the slightest. The atmosphere seems inviting, though you can’t help but feel away from it. Aside from your lack of public image, the people around act separate, like there are things to hide and appearances to keep up, like how Yoongi did his best to maintain visible composure in the jabs between him and Seulgi who herself acted just as well-adjusted as him. Even in this semi-private sphere, people are on guard, unwillingly to give out pieces of themselves that are unsightly, or even human.

Your eyes hit head after head, bewildered by how different this party is despite what you would expect from people who seemingly have it all; even the recognition you crave. Then the gaze halts, locked on sight with the most familiar face you should’ve expected to see tonight. In the midst of Yerin’s slight praise, and the advancing air of friendship between you and Yoongi, the idea of something to upset the positivity left your thoughts long ago.

But as Jimin stands paces from you, eyes greeting yours silently, you wish you considered this outcome. And wished you tugged Yoongi and you out of this party altogether to have a night unbothered.

if you enjoy please, please let me know! i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire @tsvkino-usagi @xionysus

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animeniacss · 4 years

Text

A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 9 - Startist

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU

Length: approx. 5.8k words

Chapter 9 - Startist

“How did this day arrive so fast?”

“Tae-.”

“Didn’t I just start work the other day? How is it already the end of the month?!”

“Tae-.”

“I don’t even think I’m ready. Jimin, tell me we can reschedule.”

“Yeah sure, let’s reschedule a planned art festival.” Jimin huffed. Taehyung continued to pace around his apartment, Jimin watching from the couch as he sipped a soda, his arm draped over the couch. They had just picked a collection of tangible paintings to bring with them tomorrow and had taken pictures of others that wouldn’t fit in their limited space. The pictures were stacked by the door so that Taehyung was sure he wouldn’t forget them. However, even though that was done and he could relax, Taehyung continued to move his feet. It was as if the term ‘relax’ was no longer in his dictionary. “Okay, you’re making me tired watching your pace,” Jimin said as he pulled Taehyung down beside him on the couch. Taehyung’s neck left his head to roll back on the couch and he groaned. “The festival isn’t until tomorrow.”

“I know but I can’t believe it arrived so fast.”

“Well, you’ve been busy preparing and working. Time flies when you’re having fun, isn’t that the saying?” Jimin grinned. Taehyung pouted, looking at his friend. “Don’t worry! It’ll be fine. Besides, you went to Oh Min-Jae’s art show and that was ten times more intimidating, wasn’t it?”

“…Guess so.” He said softly.

“Besides, as much as I live to carry the weight of your career on my back, you’ll have more support tomorrow than you did then. Your coworkers are coming.” Taehyung nodded. “Plus, I told my boss and he said he was going to bring his son Kai, so you have him in your corner too!” Taehyung raised an eyebrow.

“That clumsy businessman?” Taehyung asked curiously. “Oh great, just as I need, someone punching a hole in my paintings.” Jimin laughed a bit. “But fine, fine, whatever.”

“You should get some sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.” Taehyung snorted.

“Sleep.” Taehyung huffed, standing up from the couch, Jimin following behind. “That’s a funny one.” Jimin smiled, leading his friend to the bathroom so that they could get ready for bed. Jimin planned to spend the night, not only to assure that they had enough time to get everything to Ilsan but also to make sure that Taehyung woke up on time and didn’t sleep through the entire event. It had happened before, and Jimin swore it would never happen again if his life depended on it. Jimin watched as Taehyung wiped his face and hand quickly through his hair, leaning against the doorframe. “I hope tomorrow goes well.”

“It will. I did a sacred dance of luck during my break at work, so expect to completely sell out of your paintings within the first hour.” Jimin said, making Taehyung snicker.

“If I can just sell one or two, that’ll be great,” Taehyung said as he walked past his friend. Jimin watched as Taehyung headed towards the couch. “Well, goodnight.” Jimin raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you plan to stay up,” Jimin said, walking towards him. Taehyung grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and shook his head.

“No.” He said. Jimin blinked. “Jimin, as much as I love you, we haven’t shared a bed since we were kids. What if rumors start flying that I’m involved with my manager?” Jimin grinned a bit, shoving Taehyung off the couch, and laughing when he heard the thud hit the floor.

“Go sleep in your bed, dumbass.” He said. Taehyung stood up, and Jimin grabbed the blanket, sitting on the couch as Taehyung went towards his room, the duo saying goodnight to one another for the final time before the apartment went dark. Taehyung crawled into bed, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t felt his anxiety since he had his job interview. Normally, art shows excited him, but after his absolute humiliation at the last art show, where his entire career was just obliterated in front of his eyes, Taehyung no longer knew what to expect. He wanted it to go well, but he was nervous. Would people continue to see his artwork as unprofessional, or ridiculous? Would people be interested? Would he finally have to admit defeat and give up on his dreams?

“I shouldn’t think like that,” Taehyung whispered to himself as he tugged his blanket over his face. “I’m going to sell out tomorrow.” As Taehyung continued to manifest positive energy, he somehow managed to send himself to sleep, dreaming about tomorrow.

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

Taehyung and Jimin managed to arrive at the art festival with enough time to spare, more than enough even. Their spot was placed towards the back of the venue, and it wasn’t as big as the boys thought it would be, but that was okay! Music was blasting from speakers raised above the vendor stalls, people were selling food and drinks for famished visitors, and the air was filled with jovial artists ready to share their crafts with the world. The atmosphere alone made Taehyung’s heart pump with excitement, much like it did every time he took his first steps into an art show. Jimin and Taehyung hung up canvas’s wherever they could, hoisted others in front of and on top of the stall, and also made sure to put all of Taehyung’s contact information in an easy to read place. Once they were done, Jimin set his Bluetooth speaker up and began to play some music, a tactic they usually did to attract people when they were out in public, and the duo sat back. Taehyung looked around, watching as other people in their area began setting up their areas with their creations as well. Paintings, sculptures, mosaic works, even people who had weaved baskets into beautiful and intricate designs. There were so many amazing talents that attended the Ilsan Art Festival every year:

Now Taehyung was one of them!

“Jimin,” Taehyung said, making his friend look over. Taehyung had pulled out his phone, snapping pictures of the stall and all of the pictures inside. When the picture was pointed towards him, Jimin lifted his fingers into a peace sign and smiled. “Maybe if I make a post, more people will come,” Taehyung said. Jimin got up, walking towards Taehyung, and taking his phone.

“Well then we need the startist himself in the picture, don’t we?” Jimin asked. Taehyung raised an eyebrow at the unknown word, and Jimin grinned. “Star and artist, I just made it up. Startist!” Taehyung laughed a bit as Jimin motioned him towards his stall, lifting his phone. “Ready? One, two, three-.”

The duo continued to snap pictures for a few moments until the sound of voices began to be heard in the distance. The boys looked over and knew it was time. The festival had opened to the public, and people were starting to head in and look around. Taehyung took his phone back and hummed, smiling as he sat down in his chair. There was some time before people started to reach his stall, so he pulled up his photos and began checking for good ones to post on his Instagram. He selected photos of himself, the artwork, and the one of Jimin sitting with the peace sign up, and uploaded them. His finger tapped the screen idly for a few minutes, unsure of what to put as a caption. As he thought, he saw Jimin get up and walk across the path, to another young adult who was setting up his art and began complimenting his work. Taehyung watched as the duo converse, Jimin finding a balance between promoting Taehyung and complimenting the other boy. Taehyung looked down and chuckled to himself as he typed “Jimin called me a ‘startist’ today.” After adding a few emojis and tagging the festival, he set his phone down and rose from his seat.

A good two hours had passed, but Taehyung could have been told it was 15 minutes and believed it. He had been talking not only to people passing by but other nearby artists in hope of sharing contact information. The more people he became friends with, the more people could help him promote his work, and vice versa. This kept him incredibly busy, and when he finally collapsed into his chair, he let out a shaky breath. Jimin passed him a water bottle from their mini cooler, and Taehyung opened it, practically emptying it of the contents in seconds. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was.

“You’ve gotten a lot of people to come and see your work,” Jimin said. “That’s pretty good.” Taehyung nodded, smiling. “Guess my sacred dance of luck didn’t work though, you only sold one of the smaller works so far.” Taehyung shrugged.

“That’s okay,” Taehyung said. He quickly scanned the area. “Honestly, I’m just waiting for one thing right now.” He said. Jimin nodded, leaning back in his seat. “I wonder when they’ll be here. I texted Hoseok-Hyung, but I haven’t heard anything yet.”

“I’m sure they’ll be here,” Jimin assured. Taehyung nodded, taking another sip of his drink and closing his eyes. Now would be an okay time to rest, it seemed. He had been working hard and was already exhausted. Each time he had an event in the heat all day, he wondered how on earth he was always able to do it. Just as he was getting comfortable, he heard a high-pitched voice.

“What on earth is a ‘startist’?” Taehyung looked over and grinned from ear to ear. Approaching at a quick pace was Hoseok, a familiar heart-shaped smile on his face. He, along with Seokjin and Yoongi, wore jeans and various tee-shirt designs. Hoseok approached Taehyung, the duo locking hands before giving a quick hug. “Sorry, we’re so late. Seokjin-Hyung took forever to get ready.” Taehyung had never heard President Kim be addressed as ‘Hyung’ before, and it stunned him for a moment. That is until Seokjin spoke.

“Well, when the day comes that you learn how much time and effort it takes to be this beautiful, you’ll come to understand me, Hoseok,” Seokjin said, running a hand through his hair. Yoongi, who stood his hands in his pockets, rolled his eyes.

“So, what do we have here, Picasso?” Taehyung looked over, walking towards his friend.

“Well, all of the physical copies are some of my more recent stuff.” He then motioned the curious eyes towards the various photos pinned up on a makeshift clothesline on the front of the stall. “These are older ones that I like to show off whenever I go somewhere.” Yoongi nodded.

“And yet all I get to see is handprint rainbows and using clay,” Yoongi said simply. Taehyung chuckled a bit, before looking around. His eyes fell on Hoseok.

“Uhm, where’s-?”

“Oh. She stopped to get herself something to drink and get a map.” Hoseok said. He leaned back, staring down the path they arrived from. “She should be here soon. Oh, there she is now! Right on time~.” Hoseok called out to you as Taehyung looked over to find you himself. The minute he saw you look up, his eyes widened. No longer was he staring at a pencil skirt and nice blouse hidden behind an apron full of school supplies, with a slicked-back ponytail or bun. Today he was staring at a set of space buns on top of the head, tied together with hanging yellow ribbon. He saw a white button-up blouse tucked into a light-yellow floral skirt. Your accessories all supported the yellow theme, from the complementary beige handbag to the matching pair of beige flats, to the yellow and orange necklace that dangled around your neck. This was a look that Taehyung had yet to see you in, and he had to admit, he had to do a double-take to make sure it was you. “Come here. Look at all of Taehyung’s awesome stuff.”

“I’ve seen most of it on Instagram, you know.” You said, walking over. You saw Taehyung staring at you, and put a hand on your hip. “Hi.” Taehyung immediately shook his head and offered a smile.

“Oh, uh hey.” He said. He immediately, took your hand, leading you past your coworkers. Hoseok blinked, turning to look at you pass by. “I wanted you to meet someone.” Jimin looked over from his phone when he saw Taehyung leading you in his direction. “This is my best friend, Jimin. He’s my manager.” You watched the handsome man stand up from his seat and turn to you, smiling as he stuck a hand out.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you.” He said, taking your hands. “Taehyung has told me so much about you.” You chuckled a bit, your mind only beginning to imagine what Taehyung had shared about work. You nodded and introduced yourself to him as well, before Hoseok hopped behind you and pulled your hands back, replacing them with his own to say hello. You watched as the duo began to talk to one another, before turning to Taehyung, who had his hands in his pockets.

“Have you had any luck?” you asked curiously. Taehyung shrugged.

“I sold one thing and a few girls came to ask for my Instagram handle, so…maybe?” You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. “I’m hoping to sell a few more things before the day is over.” You watched as your coworkers stepped back, also taking a moment to introduce themselves to Jimin, and examined the paintings on display. A few you recognized from Taehyung’s Instagram and were amazed to see them in person at this moment.

“I think you’ll be okay.” You assured, looking at him. Taehyung chuckled a bit, watching as you walked closer to the paintings just as a young couple passed by who also stopped and stared. Taehyung quickly hurried over, introducing himself to the young couple and beginning a conversation. You turned and watched him for a moment as he motioned to some of his artwork, sharing conversations and the occasional laugh as they shared some idle chit chat.

The day was progressing at an enjoyable pace. Taehyung took a moment to step away from his stall, Jimin offering to watch over things so Taehyung could take a well-deserved break with his coworkers. The group of 5 perused the rest of the art show, admiring all of the different vendors scattered around the enormous plot of land being used for the festival. You watched as Hoseok dragged Taehyung by the hand to a stall selling masks.

“Look at how amazing these are. Mister, can we try some of them on?” Hoseok asked the man curiously. The man nodded, watching as Hoseok grabbed a few. Hoseok’s was red with a silly mustache, and Taehyung’s was white with wide, blue eyes and a tiny mouth. They were silly, and most likely for young children, not necessarily two grown men, but they didn’t care. “Taehyungie, try this one on.” Taehyung took it and put it over his face, while Hoseok did the same, the duo turning to face each other, the duo began laughing. “You look ridiculous!”

“Says the one with the stupid mustache.” Taehyung laughed, pulling his mask off of his face. You crossed your arms, shaking your head in amusement at the two dorky children before you. Hoseok turned to you, grinning. “You need to take our picture!” He handed you his cellphone and pulled Taehyung close. You glanced at Yoongi, who was just standing with his hands in his pockets as he watched the hyperactive duo fool around, an amused smile on his face. Lifting the phone, you snapped a few pictures of the duo. Just before you put it away, however, Seokjin made sure to stick his head into the frame as well.

“Don’t forget me! How can you forget Worldwide Handsome? I’ll never understand.” The boys began to laugh.

“Get a mask then, Hyung,” Hoseok said.

“What do you mean? He already has one.” Yoongi pointed out, motioning to Seokjin’s face. Seokjin let out a forced laugh at Yoongi’s playful insult, while Taehyung and Hoseok doubled over in stitches. You scanned the area, seeing that people passing by were staring at the scene before them.

“Guys, am I taking the picture or not?” you asked curiously, holding the phone to their view. The three boys looked in your direction, before finally getting themselves into a picture-ready position. “Okay, ready?” You held up the camera, snapping a few more pictures of the trio. Once that was done, the boys returned the masks, thanked the man, and returned Hoseok’s phone to him. “You three are so childish.”

“That’s why you hang out with us, isn’t it?” Hoseok asked, scanning through the pictures on his phone. He began to laugh, his face lighting up in absolute delight. “Hyung, you look ridiculous, oh man…” He said. Seokjin peered over Hoseok’s shoulder to see the one picture that was taken when Seokjin was mid-blink. “I’ll send these to you guys.” Taehyung nodded, sticking his hands into his pockets.

“I need to get back to my stall. Jimin said he wanted to take a look around too.” He mentioned.

“I’ll walk back with you.” You said, fixing one of the buns in your hair that was beginning to loosen up. “I saw a few vendors that way that I wanted to get a good look at.” Taehyung nodded. “Are you guys joining us?” You asked the other boys.

“I’m going to get something to eat, I’m starving,” Hoseok said. Seokjin and Yoongi agreed, and the group of you parted ways down the dirt path. You and Taehyung walked silently down the path, passing by people who were looking at different art vendors. You scanned around, before glancing back at Taehyung, who was fixing his hair.

“Have you ever considered doing stuff other than paintings?” You asked curiously. Taehyung looked over at you, and you motioned to a middle-aged woman selling what looked to be ceramic bowls she had created by hand. Taehyung shrugged.

“I do a bit of pottery and stuff, but I’m mostly into painting.” He said simply. “None of my pottery looks good enough to sell though.” You smiled.

“That’s probably untrue.” You said. Taehyung chuckled.

“Well, unless people want to buy something that fell on the floor before I got to harden it in the oven, then yes, it is true.” Both of you laughed a bit. “But there’s something about using paint that’s always been calming for me, so I use it the most.” You nodded, being able to understand that, even just a bit. “I think you’d feel the same way if you stopped being so worried about things going wrong.”

“I never said I was.” You said simply. The two of you approached Taehyung’s stall, your conversation stopped when the tiny voice ripped through the nearby vicinity.

“TEACHER!?” You looked over to see Kai, wearing shorts and his favorite dinosaur shirt, charging towards you as fast as his little legs would carry him. Kneeling, you opened your arms and caught him quickly, scooping him up. “Hi!”

“Well hello, Kai.” You said happily. “Are you here with your Daddy?” Kai nodded.

“And Kook too,” Kai said, pointing to them. “Look.” Taehyung looked over to see Namjoon standing by his stall, staring in their direction as they yell from his son alerted his attention. Jimin was standing there as well, but there was one boy, most likely this kid named ‘Kook’, standing there that he had never seen before. Taehyung watched Namjoon run a hand through his hair and fix his glasses quickly as you both approached.

“Kai. Don’t scream in public.” He said sternly. Kai pouted, nuzzling himself into your shoulder. Namjoon looked at you. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I was invited to see Taehyung’s work.” You said simply. “And to be fair, you didn’t say anything on the phone about coming, either.”

“Well, once Jimin told me he used his precious hours on the clock to promote his friend-.” Namjoon glanced at Jimin, who only offered an innocent smile. “I figured I would come and look too. Besides, Kai likes art.” You smiled, looking down at Kai who was now looking around at all the nearby vendors. Namjoon finally coughed in a balled-up fist. “Uhm, you look nice today.”

“Oh, thank you.” You smiled happily. Taehyung rolled his eyes, walking past the two of you and towards Jimin, who was standing with the other younger boy. They looked over, and Taehyung could see the boy’s eyes light up.

“You’re Kim Taehyung?” he asked curiously. Taehyung nodded. “Oh wow, so cool.” The boy looked back at the paintings sitting on the stall and grinned. “I’m Jeon Jungkook, I babysit Kai when Mr. Kim is busy.” Taehyung nodded as he listened to Jungkook continue to talk. “I found you on Instagram about like 6 months ago, you’re crazy talented.”

“Oh wow, thanks,” Taehyung said, feeling his cheeks turn a bit pink. “Glad you like my stuff, Jungkook.” Jungkook grinned.

“Such a small world that you teach in Kai’s preschool, isn’t it?” Jungkook asked. Taehyung nodded in agreement, before turning to his friend.

“Jimin, you can go walk around, I got the stall from here.” Jimin chuckled.

“Alright, have fun. Call me if you need anything.” Jimin grabbed his wallet, stuffing it in his bag. Waving off Namjoon, he headed down one of the paths leading farther into the festival. Taehyung turned back to Jungkook, who was admiring his paintings.

“I told Mr. Kim when I found out you were going to be here, so he let me come along. I wish I could paint like you.” Taehyung chuckled a bit. “How do you do it?”

“Takes practice, I guess,” Taehyung admitted. “I’ve been painting since I was a kid, after all.” Jungkook nodded. Taehyung glanced over his shoulder to see that you had set Kai down, even though he was reluctant to be out of your arms. However, after Namjoon sent him away, he hurried over and latched onto Jungkook’s leg, grinning widely. Taehyung rested his elbows in front of him to lean against the stall and watched as the two of you spoke.

“Hey, so Uhm, I wanted to apologize for Seokjin-Hyung’s comment about that date a while back,” Namjoon said to you. “You know how he can be a bit over eccentric. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Is that the reason you didn’t mention a date these past few weeks?” you asked curiously. Namjoon nodded. “I appreciate that, but I’m so used to his antics that they don’t even phase me anymore.” Namjoon nodded. “Also, I know he won’t leave me alone until I finally make good on his word and allow you to take me out to dinner.” Namjoon chuckled a bit.

“I won’t push you if you don’t want to go out with me.” He said.

“It’s not that I don’t, it’s just…well, your son is my student and-.” Namjoon nodded.

“I understand.” He said. “I just really like spending time with you. And knowing that Kai has a real love for you in school makes that even better. That’s why I’m always so adamant to go out with you.” You blushed a bit, smiling. You didn’t see it, but Taehyung rolled his eyes from where he was standing.

“Well, I guess one more dinner wouldn’t kill anyone.” You said. “I just need to see when I’m free.” You saw Namjoon’s little almond-shaped dragon eyes sparkle slightly in excitement.

“Absolutely. Whenever you’re free, I’ll make time.” He assured quickly. You nodded a bit, turning back to Kai and Jungkook, who you saw had moved across the path to admire a huge sculpture. Kai’s eyes were wide as he stared at it.

“Daddy, daddy! Look!” He said. Namjoon walked over to his son, kneeling to his level and scooping him up and over his shoulders. “It’s so big.” As the father and son continued to admire the artwork, you approached Taehyung, who was still resting against the stall. He glanced at you.

“I see you have a date now.” He said. You raised an eyebrow.

“Why do you care?” you asked curiously.

“I don’t,” Taehyung assured. You watched Taehyung purse his lips together, in a moment of thought. “…He’s not being forceful or anything, is he? You always seem like you don’t want to go out with him.” You frowned a bit, glaring at him. “What?”

“If I didn’t want to go out with him, I wouldn’t.” You said simply. “Don’t involve yourself where you shouldn’t.” Taehyung shrugged, deciding to end the conversation there. As both of you stood there, watching Namjoon and Jungkook continue to occupy Kai, you glanced at Taehyung. He was watching them as well, silent after your comment. A slight awkward air covered Taehyung’s vendor stall, and you knew that you were not the only one who could sense it. A soft sigh escaped your lips, and you looked at Taehyung.

“Uhm…hey.” You began. Taehyung glanced in your direction. The close distance between the two of you meant that for the first time, you could get a really good look at his face. He had dark eyes, and an almost mysterious aura around him when he wasn’t smiling. That matched with his fluffy hair was…well, you could always understand why he was so popular with girls on social media. You found yourself taking a step back, widening the space between you. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry for my behavior at work.”

“…You did that already.” He said simply. You shook your head.

“I said it to shut Seokjin up. But I’ve been thinking about it these past few weeks and I am sorry. I have my stuff to deal with and I shouldn’t take that out on you.” Taehyung chuckled a bit, watching as you fumbled with one of your fingernails. “Besides, the kids like you, so even if I didn’t really like you, it would be selfish of me to act this way.” You glanced back at his paintings and sighed. Just as you finished scanning them, you noticed a little hint of blue and yellow on a canvas in the back You leaned forward. “What’s that?” Taehyung looked over, lifting the canvas with the dolphin on it. As he lifted it, he saw your eyes sparkle a bit.

“It’s a dolphin,” Taehyung said. You nodded.

“I knew it.” You pointed out. Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “I saw that painting at some fancy art festival about a month ago.” Taehyung’s eyes widened. Immediately his mind went back to a beautiful woman he had bumped into upon exiting, and the tall, dark, and handsome man standing beside her asking if she was alright.

As Jungkook said, it truly was a small world.

“I couldn’t recognize where I saw it from. I tried to look for any artist information but it was all taken down by then and they said the artist had left.”

He left my paintings up the entire time but he took down all my handles? What a scumbag. Taehyung thought to himself, though he had to make sure he kept his now boiling anger at bay as to not cause a scene. “…Oh. Yeah, this is mine.”

“That makes sense. That’s probably why Namjoon recognized you too.” You clapped your hands. “I can’t believe I didn’t put 2 and 2 together.” You laughed a bit. “I kept staring at the painting all night, I thought it was so cute.”

“Thank you,” Taehyung said, his mind currently spinning.

“I wanted to buy it, but I couldn’t afford it. You’re an incredible artist.” Taehyung blinked. “I know I’ve been giving you a really hard time about everything, but I do admire your talents, that’s why I follow you in the first place. So, just in case I haven’t told you that yet, it’s true.”

“…Thank you.” He said softly. “That means a lot to me. I hope we can work together and get along in the future.” He said. You nodded. “You can start by that deep bow I’m waiting for.” He grinned his boxy grin, and you couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, covering your mouth to stifle it. Taehyung chuckled as well.

Almost immediately, Namjoon turned around to see what had caused you to laugh so loud. When he saw you talking to Taehyung, he pursed his lips, before walking over towards the both of you. Taehyung saw him from the corner of his eye and glanced up. As Namjoon approached, Taehyung stood straight, his hands in his pockets.

“Can I help you?” Taehyung asked.

“Nothing. I just wanted to see what she was raving about.” Namjoon glanced down at the picture of the dolphin. “Aaaah, that’s right, you did find that picture nice, didn’t you?” You nodded. “Want me to buy it for you?” Taehyung watched as Namjoon pulled out his wallet. “Maybe you can put it in your living room or something.”

“What? Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You gasped. “Please, I don’t have any room for it, I just think it’s nice.”

“Well if you think it’s nice, you should have it.” Taehyung watched as Namjoon pulled out his checkbook. “How much for it?” Taehyung glanced down at the painting and then back up to Namjoon. When he did, he could’ve sworn he saw a smug look behind those sharp eyes. Taehyung frowned.

“I don’t know if I want to sell it anymore.” He admitted. You blinked, glancing at Namjoon as he set down the checkbook.

“Name your price. I can afford it.”

“I said I don’t know.”

“Why? Didn’t you come here to sell your artwork?” Namjoon asked curiously. “It’s lovely to work, it should be shared with the world.” Taehyung glared at Namjoon, who was only offering a smile.

“I don’t want to sell it to you if I’m being honest.” Namjoon pursed his lips, closing his checkbook.

“…Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

“No, I just don’t want to sell it to you. You’re buying it to make her like you more, not because you want it. How about you just leave her alone?”

“Taehyung, stop-.” You gasped. Namjoon chuckled a bit.

“I’m buying it for her.”

“My point still stands,” Taehyung said.

“Hey, guys, come on now.” You began, trying to end this tension sooner rather than later. “It’s not that big of a deal, Namjoon. He can sell it to whoever he wants. I just think it’s cute.” Despite your words, Namjoon and Taehyung were staring at each other with enough fire in their eyes to burn down the entire festival if let loose. You sighed. “Okay, I’m not gonna stand around and watch this.” You said, walking away. Namjoon watched you head towards Jungkook and Kai, who were standing nearby, yet out of earshot. With you gone, Namjoon looked back at Taehyung, who had set the picture down.

“Do you have a crush on her or something?” Namjoon asked curiously. Taehyung blinked, glancing back towards you for a second. You had scooped Kai up, glancing around at all of the art and creations as Kai pointed out things that he liked. Despite how nervous you had just been when leaving the conversation, having Kai in your arms made your eyes light up with glee.

“Why would you care? Do you?” Taehyung asked.

“…Is it that obvious?” Namjoon asked, his cheeks turning pink as he chuckled nervously. Taehyung once again had to roll his eyes. “I’m just asking so I know if how hard I need to fight for her.” Taehyung frowned.

“You make her sound like a prize.”

“That’s not my intention,” Namjoon assured. “I just care about her a lot, that’s all. And I like to see her happy.” Taehyung nodded.

“I like it when she’s happy too. She’s nice when she’s not giving me a hard time.”

“Then sell me the painting so she can have it and be happy.”

“No.”

“You’re very prideful.”

“And you seem to think having a lot of money is the key to winning her over. She doesn’t seem like that kind of girl.” Namjoon sighed.

“Okay, fine. Don’t sell it to me.” He said. Namjoon put his checkbook away, instead of pulling out his business card and tossing it onto the table. Taehyung picked it up. “If you change your mind, I would love a chance to look at your work again. You’re very talented.”

“Thanks,” Taehyung said, lifting the business card. Namjoon turned on his heel and headed back over towards you, Kai, and Jungkook. He scooped Kai into his arms, though the boy was reluctant to leave you. Taehyung glanced down at his painting, resting against the back of the stall and out of view. As he did, regret started to wash over him.

I shouldn’t have let my pride get the better of me, I could’ve sold this for a lot of money. He thought to himself. …No way. I don’t want to be a part of his money scheme to get her to like him. I’ll sell it to someone who will appreciate it, that’s the end of it! Taehyung sat back in his seat, running his hand through his hair and letting out a little groan. His mind also began racing it Namjoon’s question.

Do you have a crush on her or something?

No, I don’t have a crush on her. She spent the past month giving me such a hard time, why would I have a crush on her? Taehyung thought to himself. However, just as he was thinking that his mind was flashing back to images of you since he had met you. Images of your smiling face, your laugh, the glow that emanated from your eyes, and lit up the entire room every time you were with those students. Every time, even when he felt like he wanted to scream at you for how you treated him, he couldn’t help but feel his heart swell just at the sight of your stunning grin.

As Taehyung’s mind continued to plague him, he heard Namjoon, Jungkook, and Kai walk away from the stall. He leaned his head back in his seat and took a nice long sip of water from the cooler of beverages that Jimin insisted that they bring. It sent a nice, cool wave throughout his body and helped quench his thirst. However, just as he was preparing to stand back up and get to work, he heard a deep, older voice that made his entire body heat up immediately, and his heart begins to pound deep within his chest.

“My, my. Never thought I would see you again, Mr. Kim Taehyung.”

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