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pinksatinsashes · 3 years

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The Dream Girls Guide To Looking Your Best On A Budget

Ladies, grab a pen and paper because todays class is officially in session.

Today's class is all about how to look good on a budget, if you've followed my blog for a while you know that I'm an 18-year-old student/business owner who really values saving money (especially because I love living my best life.) another thing I absolutely value is looking good...as much as possible. Something I've noticed recently is the misconception that you HAVE to have money to look good, that's simply not true...and this is coming from someone with expensive taste.

I hope you got that pen and paper I instructed you to prepare.

Stop Following Trends.

Again if you've followed me for a while you'd know about the countless £250 shein hauls that have ended up in the charity shops from failed attempts of me trying to "reinvent myself" when I was actually just following Instagram/tiktok trends and donating everything when the new trend came.

Following trends is not only just a money waster (at least £3000 over the years gone) but it also rarely actually looks good on you. Not every trend will suit you, whether its the colours or the patterns or the shape of the material it just might not look good on you.

For example, a current trend is super baggy, androgynous clothes and while that does look gorgeous on some people it looks awful on me. I have really bog boobs and when I wear baggy tops it looks like things just hang from my boobs and I have absolutely no shape whatsoever. I look like I'm wearing a pillowcase. It's also just not really my vibe. I love going for a more feminine, fitted but not revealing type style, that's what makes me feel most confident.

Instead of going off trends here's what you should do; spend a day finding your colour season, what types of styles looks best on your body, what metals suit your skin tone and then when you've gotten al that information create a Pinterest board and just browse for a bit and add all the outfits that you genuinely like to it. Not trendy things but things that you actually love the look of when you're done with all that review the board and see what you can do to make those things look good on you. Maybe that top in that style wouldn't suit you but with a a different neckline you would look gorgeous, maybe that colour would wash you out but a different colour palette would look gorgeous.

Be creative for once instead of looking like literally every other girl on the internet and having to get rid of things once they stop being trendy.

Shop Smart.

If you listen to absolutely nothing else on this post, listen to this.

Shop smart, stop shopping for fun, create strict budgets, stick to colour palettes, wait for sales and make sure to plan in advance.

Gone are the days of going shopping with your friends for fun (or just don't buy anything if you go) shopping is no longer an activity. It's just something you do and you must do it strategically. Shopping with friends is fun but it also wastes a lot of money. No one actually wants to wait in line for the changing room so you just buy things without trying it on and then don't want to travel back to return it. Money wasted. Or your friend talks you into buying something you don't want to buy. Money wasted. Or you and your friends have completely different styles so you can't even enjoy the shops you like to shop at. Waste of time.

Instead, do as I do. Before every season make a wishlist of the things you want and need for the new season. Do this as long before the season as possible and add to it every time you see something else you like. Now, just before that season arrives you go through that list again and you remove the following; things you don't like anymore, things that you need to buy other items for it to go with, things that will only go with one specific item, things that aren't actually practical and last, things you know that you won't wear. Stick to a colour palette when shopping to allow your items to match and go together better

Now it's time for the fun part, create a realistic budget and start shopping. Research what to look out for to make your money worthwhile, for example, what material is best for what weather, what jewellery is best for the price (brass plated gold vs stainless steel plated gold or 14k vs 18k) make sure you're paying for quality and not just the brand. If you want to pay for brands get a good quality replica and call it a day honestly. You're on a budget but I'll talk more about that shortly.

When you're doing things like this it's easy to get carried away when you actually start shopping but remember this, if it is not on the list you are not buying it. If you see something you like and you want it, add it to a separate list and then reassess it mid-season when it's no longer an impulse buy.

Stop buying cheap things, delete the shein app off your phone and quit with the fast fashion. It doesn't need to be the most sustainable thing but trust me, quality is so much more important than quality. And having less clothes with less choice actually makes picking out outfits so much easier, no more I don't know what to wear moments when you have a closet full of clothes. Research Capsule Wardrobes, only buying a limited amount of items that ALL go together.

Another important thing about shopping smart is to make sure to take note of key sales. Black Friday/The holiday season is coming up so you best believe I've already filled up my wish lists and bags. Things from summer and spring will be HEAVILY discounted so make sure to make a couple of lists of your absolute necessities to add to your carts too. Shopping in sales is the perfect time to buy the things you wouldn't be buying otherwise, those tops that only go with specific trousers that scarf you've been eying that is way overpriced for the material when it's discounted get it why not? This is the time to also buy things to experiment with.

However, one thing to remember when shopping in sales is NOT to get lost in the sale and end up buying things you'll never wear just because it's on sale. Do your research prior, make sure to look at the materials your garments are made out of as well as reviews to make sure it's worth your while and absolutely do not overbuy.

If You Want it Just for the Brand...Buy a Replica.

I'm pretty sure every one of us has been obsessed with some designer item they've wanted even though they know its overpriced because it has a logo on it.

Buy it anyway...well the replica of it. I've spent countless hours researching replicas since I found this sub r/repladies that have so many detailed reviews of replica items that they've bought as well as in-depth comparisons to the authentic. I'm telling you no one will be the wiser unless they're looking hard.

I've seen people post side by side comparisons authentic and replica and have honestly not been able to tell the difference and they're very often the same or better quality. I've recently bought a replica LV DA Neverfull for £130 (!!) from a seemingly reputable seller and I'm waiting on it's arrival but I cannot wait to inform all of you on how it is.

Top tips

Make sure to read reviews on specific sellers

Read the FAQ

Research the item you want before you get it

If it seems too good to be true... run

Buy GOOD Quality reps that have great reviews and look authentic, nothing more embarrassing as someone informing you your bag is fake

Practice your shocked face just in case someone notices it is

Spend Money Where It Matters...Or don't spend.

You can follow every single point on this post but this one is the make or break.

Make sure to budget for the things that matter most, regular hair cuts, root touch ups, getting your nails/ eyelashes done, keeping your eyebrows looking good.

These are the things that can elevate or deflate your overall vibe. If you have the most amazing outfit ever, perfect body and good quality materials but your hair is a mess you will absolutely not be looking your best. Similarly if you have dirty nails.

If you're a fellow black girl please ditch the wig when the frontal looks bad, look after your natural hair and figure out what styles look best on you, and budget to pay for them too, the braiders are getting expensive...

Most importantly, if you can't afford to pay for it, learn how to do it yourself, watch a few tutorials and learn how to braid your own hair, or do your own nails or thread your own eyebrows. These are the things people notice about you before they even notice your gorgeous fur coat or whatever it may be.

Look After Your Mental and Physical Health

As women, one of our most powerful attributes is our confidence and I for one know that when I don't feel good not only am I not confident, but I lose the will to continue looking after myself and leaving the house looking good.

We need to keep our confidence as high as possible, you better believe that you are the THAT girl and your standards better be just as high. Make sure to put no one else above you on pedestal.

Have you ever met this one person that everyone is obsessed with even though you don't get the hype? Confidence. If you believe you're the shit soon enough everyone else will too.

Execerise is good for your mental and physical health. Practice mindfulness if it helps you and when you can make sure to have a few sessions with a therapist even if you don't think you don't need to. You don't have any idea how many "normal" things I've let slip to my therapist only to be stopped in my tracks and told that it was a complex I had created (not working hard enough if I don't work 24/7 for example.) even if you can't afford regular therapy a few sessions with a good therapist can at least teach you tools that you can use in your life going forward.

Hope this was helpful, happy levelling up!

MUAH xx

#hannahlovesyou #hypergamy #level up #level up mindset #black femininity #hypergamous #myaesthetic #hypergamy blog #femininity tips #black women in femininity #feminism

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taeescript · 3 years

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29+1 (Part One)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader if you squint real hard)

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (diva!seokjin)

𝔴𝔠: 3.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: heavy use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, a plethora of sarcasm (please don’t be offended) and a sprinkle of softness (is that a warning?).

𝔞/𝔫: this sat in my unwritten folder since 2017 no lie. I wrote the premise and a singular paragraph at that time, then just gave up. I opened it a few days ago, got inspired again and this word vomit came out (heavily influenced by a midnight Zoom call with my friends). Ngl this was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. This will probably be in three parts. 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: I did not know that DailyHive is an actual online news source when writing. This work is purely fictional and has absolutely nothing to do with the real DailyHive.

part two

Your friends have a saying: After 29, nobody shares their age until they’ve accomplished something.

In the past, you didn’t understand it. What’s so bad about saying you’re 30 or you’re 32? That’s still a young age! Sure, you’re not exactly in your prime anymore but you’re not old, right?

So, you continue in your own wondrous world of naïveté until that fateful day at your class reunion. You had simply been walking around, minding your own business when you had been stopped by an old colleague.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” she waves you down.

You smile kindly, not even bothering to try and remember her name (you sucked at names, what could you say).

“Hey…you!” you chuckle lightly, “How have you been doing?”

An everyday question leading to catastrophic effects.

“Oh you know,” she says and rolls her eyes as if you truly did know, “I’ve just been out and about. Did I tell you though? I got married last year!” She holds out her hand in which a giant diamond adorns her finger. “Wow!” you gasp, feigning interest. It’s not that you aren’t happy for her, but you are reminded of just how single you are currently. When was the last time you felt another human’s touch? Does kissing come back as easily as riding a bicycle? “Hey!” she says suddenly, “I’m actually meeting with a couple of friends from our class. You should come join! I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again!” You want to wave her off, but against your better judgment, you find yourself following in her footsteps and listening to her speak about wedding venues and honeymoon destinations.

“Oh my god!” another female voice filters in.

The “couple of friends” this old classmate had mentioned is in fact a fairly impressive size of twenty. This is also the third time the wedding announcement has been made.

“Last year?” the female continues, “Weren’t you young?”

Yes, you want to respond. Yes she was young. A full 365 days younger than she is now.

Your classmate, Sooyoung (or Kiko as she insists going by now) titters in front of you. “I mean, you can sort of say I’m a late bloomer. I got married when I was 31.”

Her words unintentionally cut into you. Here you are at 29 without a beau in sight. You take a fast swig of your beer and end up hitting the empty glass with a clink to your teeth. Nobody notices.

“Enough about me, however, how about you?”

“I started my own business actually. It’s been doing really well and it’s been a crazy mind. Imagine me, my own boss at only 33!”

You nervously join them when they suddenly laugh together.

“Hi, can I get another pint please? Actually add a tequila shot to that,” you whisper the last part to the waitress you had just stopped.

And that was how the rest of the night went. People asking one another what they had accomplished. Any moment in time after 30 would not be mentioned until somebody travelled to Uganda to build houses at 31 or another gave birth at the same age. Below 30, anything would be attributed to luck or in your case…

“What are you doing currently?” somebody asks you, “The little baby of our class.”

Swallowing your third tequila shot of the night, you wonder for the umpteenth time how you had become a part of this giant sharing circle. You wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse that you had graduated a little early and thus was younger than most of your peers.

“Well,” you start, “I’m currently working at DailyHive.”

“Ohh!” a man gushes. You recognize him as the once-upon-a-time science partner you used to cheat notes off of. “I use DailyHive nearly as much as Instagram these days. You guys cover everything from news to sports to fashion.”

You shrug. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a pretty big company!”

“What are you doing there?”

Kiko-ex-Sooyoung hits the man teasingly on the shoulder. “Y/N is probably the Director of Marketing or something. Remember how she used to spend all class doodling in her notebook?”

“Or sleeping!” someone quips.

You don’t join in when they all laugh.

“I’m…an intern,” you say with as much pride as you can in a group of established professionals ranging from dermatologists to that one guy who had flown around the world as a TedTalk guest speaker.

A hushed silence befalls everyone.

“That’s…cool!” the same man encourages you, “Interns are totally rad! Everyone wants an intern spot these days.”

His girlfriend pats your arm, almost empathetically. “Yeah. I know a bunch of people who first start off as interns and then they shoot up the ladder quick enough. As long as you’re no longer an intern at 30, you’re golden!”

Once again, the entire group laughs as if she has said the most hilarious of jokes.

She composes herself and says to you, “Because after that, you should have accomplished something.”

Her words still ring in your ears as you sit at your desk this morning.

Yeah…something. All you need to do is accomplish something in the next three months before you are officially, 29 + 1.

Your fingers tap against your thighs silently while you observe the current debate that is occurring in the conference room. You barely have time to sweep the falling hair back behind your ear as your fingers ferociously fly across the keyboard to keep in track with the meeting.

Fei is arguing that the implement of a new search word system would boost users while Daniel says that it is a waste of resources. Instead, everything should be put into updating the entire system as a whole. You have long since lost track of their words as neither pertain to what you do as an intern.

“Enough,” the CEO of DailyHive holds up a hand. His one word causes the entire room to hush over – truly, the words of a god.

And that might as well be what he is. With his hair swept back and a lone tendril curling perfectly above his brow, Kim Seokjin is legitimately a walking god. Off his broad shoulders hang an expensive white linen suit bought with his pocket change and your yearly salary. A pair of sunglasses hangs in the V of the collared shirt dipping low enough to blur the lines between being fashionably professional and just downright sexy.

The snap of his fingers brings you back to the present.

He dramatically rolls his eyes and accepts that you are an incompetent minute-taker.

“I have to remember that the world just doesn’t move as fast as I do.”

- Quote: Rolling Stones 2019 Kim Seokjin.

Now if only he’d remember he had once said that.

He points at each of them with one finger, then swipes to the left. “Both of you, solve this outside. I don’t want to hear your voices any longer. You two from the marketing team, Ungroomed Stache and Acne Chin, create me a report if we are to implement Ms. Song’s idea. The two of you from…” he takes a pause here clearly having forgotten who his employees are, “The two of you do the same thing but for Mr. Hwang.”

The pair from accounting open their mouth to protest that they are in charge of only numbers, but they are ignored.

“All of you out now. Except you,” he points his finger directly at you, “Stay.”

Nobody utters a single word until they have all left and you are left alone with him. Standing before him with your hands folded nicely in front of you, you blink and wait.

He stares right back at you, picks up his coffee mug and drops it. The clatter of ceramic smashing against the ground causes a pause in the loud buzz outside the room. You know everybody’s focus has been shifted into the room.

“Do you want to kill me?” he drawls.

You take a long inhale. “No,” you say.

“No?” he repeats the word, “Well I think you do. Did you check this coffee before you brought it to me? I tasted cinnamon in it. You know how I’m allergic to cinnamon. Get me a new cup. And this mess, get somebody to clean it. I don’t want the smell of coffee in this room when I have my next meeting here in twenty. I’m taking a smoke a break.”

He stands up and brushes past you without saying anything else.

Nobody can be allergic to cinnamon. Besides if he had actually tasted cinnamon and was that sensitive, he would be dead. And good riddance to that.

Of course, you say none of this and wordlessly begin to pick up the broken ceramic pieces of the dead mug. The bustling outside the meeting room has returned back to its normal state of chaos. Seeing the ugly stain of coffee on the once pristine carpet causes you to swear beneath your breath.

“Who the fuck is allergic to cinnamon?” a new voice says, sliding up beside you.

The second god in DailyHive; the much nicer and evidently preferred Kim; Taehyung takes the mug pieces from you and drops it into the garbage bin.

Blessed with not only intelligence but devilishly model-like features, he is your desk buddy in the small space allotted for interns and your sole friend in the company.

“Tae,” you sigh with exasperation upon seeing your lifesaver, “What am I going to do about this stain? He’s going to return in fifteen and there’s no way I can get a coffee stain out of this expensive-ass carpet.”

Taehyung taps a long finger to his lips, leaves the room briefly, and returns with a roll of Bounty sheets and a can of Febreze. He promptly blots as much of the coffee off from the carpet then proceeds to pull the meeting table.

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t just stand there. Help me! Time is of the essence!”

You laugh and join him in moving the table so that one of the legs cover the stain 80% of the way. Once he is satisfied, he takes the Febreze and sprays until the whole room smells like “Hawaiian Aloha”.

“You’re welcome.” He gives an extravagant bow, the motion popping open the top button of his shirt to expose a surprisingly chiseled chest.

Fei returns back into the room holding a phone to her ear and a clipboard in her left hand. “What the hell? It smells like a Bath & Body Works in here. Intern, aren’t you supposed to be filing or something? Stop standing around and be useful.” She grips Taehyung’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Button up. This is a professional workplace.”

You give him a tiny wave as Taehyung is steered away by his girlfriend and back to the cubicles.

Taehyung may be your saviour at work, but outside, it cannot be denied that your brother is the true Fountain of Life.

A week has passed since the coffee incident (you suspect a cleaning personnel had found the stain and cleaned up after your improv as aforementioned stain can no longer be found), but Jimin still brings it up.

“I still can’t believe that he said he was allergic to cinnamon. I’ve never heard of such bullshit before,” your brother says over the phone. You can practically hear his eyeroll from across the world.

As a renowned ophthalmologist, you have not seen Jimin for close to a year as he has been initiating his new clinic, a flying eye hospital.

“You should hear his Starbucks order. I always feel like I’m ready to launch my next EP whenever I’m at the counter,” you say.

Jimin laughs. There is the muffled sounds of voices as his never-ending flow of patients have arrived for the day.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” you say upon hearing that, “You’re probably really busy.”

“No,” he says, “I’ve got a few minutes if you’ve got a few. I miss talking to my baby sister.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Jiminie,” you say using the nickname he hated.

“Oh that’s right. Your birthday’s in a little under three months, right? My baby sister is turning the big three-oh.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

“Want me to come visit you?”

You contemplate the idea once, having not seen Jimin in quite a while.

“Only if you have time. But I feel like Mom and Dad would probably want to see you more. Speaking of which, um… How are Mom and Dad?”

“They’re good. I hear Dad is finally going to retire this year. He’s giving his practice to Kibum, you remember him? Mom will probably start pestering us about what to do for his retirement party.”

There is a pause.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to them once in a while.”

You sigh. “And say what? Hey, it’s me. The child that ran away from home at 18? Yeah, I’m not a doctor like everybody else in the family but a 29 year old intern at a popular app company. Whassuuup?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I – ”

“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ve come to accept that not everybody is cut out to be a doctor. I just wish Mom and Dad could realize that.”

Jimin sighs on your behalf. There is the sound of a crying child coming through the earphone. “Well, your contract expires a few weeks after your birthday, right? Who knows, you might be the next Mark Zuckerberg.”

He has never explicitly inquired about your life plan and you know this is as much as he is willing to push without asking, “What’s next after this intern hiccup?” At least he had the decency to compare you to a controversial Internet entrepreneur.

The child is crying much louder now.

“Again with my birthday. But I’ll let you know,” is the only reply you can come up with at the moment. “Okay, brother, go forth and heal the blind. I bless thee in the name of the Holy Spirit, Son and Ghost.”

There is true laughter that rings from Jimin as he ends the call. “It’s Father, Son and Holy Ghost you dweeb. I love you sis.”

“You too.” You hang up first before he can add anything else.

With that, you enter into the 7am Starbucks queue and prepare yourself in running the first single of your long overdue EP.

Seokjin leans back in his chair, watching you from inside his office. Today he has chosen a black turtleneck and a brazen maroon-nearly purple suit jacket to complete the outfit. For once, there is an empty mug of coffee beside him and his morning headache has been appeased.

He knew he had given you an impossible task.

“Compile all the troubleshooting errors we have received since the launch of DailyHive. Organize it in a manner that allows me to identify the most prominent problem. Run it through whomever you please before giving it to me. I don’t need to waste my time correcting your mistakes.”

There is an amused smile that bubbles beneath his otherwise stoic features. He cannot deny that there is, might he dare say, a cute quality about you as you manually scan through the received concerns on your laptop dating back to the initial beta tests – the ones that were lost in a data crash and only backed up with unintelligible scribblings of previous interns.

The moment you had been introduced as the new intern, you had caught his eye. You are exquisitely mundane, and perhaps the reason you had even caught him the first time was due to solely to the fact that you were older than most interns – himself even. Nevertheless, you continue to present him small surprises in your tenacity and capability to tackle challenges.

“Mr. Kim.”

His intercom comes alive with the voice of his secretary.

Seokjin’s eyes do not leave you as he answers.

“Mr. Hwang is on line two. Would you like me to defer him to a later time if you are currently busy?”

Seokjin cannot help but sigh. Hwang Junho, his co-founder, while a genius in international business is also a notorious chatterbox and gossip. There is seldom a reason for Junho to call him except to relay the cover titles of E!Magazine.

“Did he mention a reason for calling?” Seokjin inquires.

His secretary seems to be reading from a note. “He says it’s to do with the company. Something he read from Cosmopolitan this morning.”

So not E! but another sister celebrity gossip blog. He checks his watch and duly notes that he certainly has no meetings scheduled until later in the afternoon where your report would be needed to run a preliminary analysis.

“Sir?”

“Yes, put him through. But tell him I’ve got only five minutes, so he’s better give me the Cliffnotes version,” Seokjin sighs again.

Before he can be connected, Seokjin quickly says, “What’s the name of that intern again?”

“Who?” his secretary asks, “We’ve hired four since the beginning of the year.”

“The one who keeps wanting to poison me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” she sounds concerned.

“The one who keeps forgetting that I despise cinnamon.”

There is no response.

“The older one. Spilled coffee a while ago but still has enough coordination to pull together a decent report.”

“Ah,” she says.

He waits patiently as she searches through the database, eventually giving him your name. He gives a slight pause and then says, “Good. Now patch me with Junho.”

There is a momentary buzz as the call becomes connected in which Seokjin turns over the syllables of your name wordlessly.

“Mr. Kim. The man of the hour. How are you, my brother?” Junho’s baritone fills the office in a manner of seconds.

Despite the little annoying quirks, Seokjin cannot help but smile when hearing the voice of his best friend.

“You’ve got three minutes, Junho.”

Junho grumbles. “That’s not my fault. You were the one still on the line with your secretary. Is it still Yerin? ‘Cuz I won’t blame you if that’s the case. Did I catch you doing some naughty phone sex during office hours?”

“Two.”

“Holy hell. Fine. It’s always business with you. That’s why the tabloids are always writing you as an uptight asshole.”

This shifts Seokjin’s attention to the phone. His name is seldomly mentioned except for the features in business columns. He prefers to stay out of the limelight.

“What?”

“Put your name on Google.”

Seokjin does as he is told.

There are millions of results, but the first few pages share the same headline. He clicks on the first one with a grimace.

“Kim Seokjin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome as noted by his fans, has recently sparked Internet outrage.”

A quick skim of the otherwise trashy article brought to the surface a summary: his last dating scandal had ended badly and the repercussions of blowing off a famous celebrity’s daughter had finally caught up with him. The Internet was calling him arrogant, narrow-minded, and even greedy. “The young Chief Executive Officer of booming social media app DailyHive has been accused of using his relationship with actress XYZ to further his own business. Once he gained recognition from aforementioned relationship, he has cold-heartedly cast her away to pursue his next.” “You’re calling me for this bullshit?” Seokjin scoffs. Junho tuts his tongue loudly. “This is not bullshit. It’s affecting the image of your company. Do you think people want to download and support an app that is run by somebody who is being called cruel and dishonest? You’ve got to address this soon before it gets out of control. You’re lucky I have alerts set for these type of things. I caught it for you just in the nick of time.” Seokjin inhales deeply. “You’re also lucky that I’ve got the perfect solution in mind.” “That is?” “The Silver Gala,” Junho references the prestigious event. The Silver Gala is hosted annually and attended by the largest celebrities as well as other wealthy investors and guests. Those in the social circle shared between Seokjin and Junho often yearned for tickets to attend events such as this, as they serve as excellent networking opportunities. Besides the above, such events are circled by reporters and writers of gossip columns to get the exclusive scoop on any eyebrow-raising rumours. “The solution lies in such an event,” Junho continues, “You know how many people will be there. All you’ve got to do is show up with your average girl-next-door type and it’ll show how you’re actually really humble and down to earth. Kim Seokjin is perfectly capable of dating like any regular human being. He doesn’t use “love” or whatever to further his business. Love is the connection between two souls; two individuals who – ” “Beep. Your time has run out Junho. I’ve got another meeting scheduled right this moment,” Seokjin interrupts. “Dude, seriously. Think about it. You could bring Yerin. Everbody loves a good CEO and his secretary affair. And if that’s too juicy for you, I can introduce you to some girls. Or maybe we could go back to our university days and hit a bar, y’know?” Junho tries his best to persuade. “Fuck!” you swear beneath your breath right as you walk into Kim Seokjin’s office. His door had been open and, in your excitement to show your completed report, you had dropped all the loose papers on the ground. Four hours of organization gone, just like that. You hope that at least Seokjin hasn’t heard or noticed you as he had been engrossed in his phone call. Seokjin had in fact noticed you. He can’t help himself but follow the curvature of your bare shoulder as your bangs escape the hold of your scrunchie and sweep across your skin. “Don’t worry, Junho, I’ve just thought about it,” he says with a smile.

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dazed--xx · 3 years

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Sold Your Soul

Request: Ooh could I request Yandere!Sugar Daddy! Seokjin¿

Member: HARD Yandere!sadist Jin x Reader

Genre: angst, yandere, (implied smut)

Word Count: 1,590

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Abuse, manipulation, pressured sex, handcuffed to a bed, hair pulling, name calling, whatever else I forgot to put sorry guys

A/N: MY FIRST JIN FIC thank you to the beautifully dark and non-descriptive soul for sending in this request, I hope you enjoy it and this finds you, I DO NOT CONSENT TO THIS BEHAVIOR IF YOU ARE BEING ABUSED GET HELP, PLEASE. And with that being said send in more requests

Summary: Kim Seokjin, V.P. of Kim industries, powerful, wealthy, and charming. The sweetest heir to the Kim enterprise according to the public. You believed it, his overwhelming charm and confidence the mask for the demon within. Jīn has gotten whatever he wanted, and he wants you. With your contract only days from ending, Jin declares you’ve violated the contract and now you belong to him. Permanently.

(not my gif)

Month 5 day 22 10:42 pm

If anyone was to ask you how the past 5 months 22 days have been you’d say a secret nightmare, your provider was a ruthless and spoiled man. The onlookers would say you were lucky, the heir to Kim Enterprises was spoiling you with riches, paying your tuition, etc... The soft glow on his skin, his plump lips, his soft fragile image of the perfect son in the perfect family had shattered within 2 months. The abuse of his power and wealth over you, use of your safe word during sexual punishment would result in financial punishment. If you would have read the fine print in your contract with him you wouldn’t be handcuffed to his headboard as he released his anger, at his words “your betrayal”. Only hours ago, he was losing himself inside you, holding you in his arms fingers lightly tracing circles on your arms. How did you end up here?

*flashback*

Your hands curled around the bottom seam of your skirt griping it tightly. Your entire body shaking as the driver pulled to a stop in front of the large office building. Your mouth completely dries itself up. “Miss y/l/n Mr. Kim has requested you inform his assistant you have arrived from the front desk give them your name, then proceed to the 16th floor Mr. Kim's assistant will meet you right off the elevator she will give you further instructions. Have a nice day” his driver speaks soft and swiftly.

You shakily eye the building. Taking a soft nervous step your breath hitches in your throat. As you step into the building you look around everything seems to happen in the blink of an eye and soon you were rushed into his office. You turned to close the door behind you and you stared at the closed door in front of you and your hand stayed frozen on the handle.

“You can leave if you'd like but from what I know so far Miss Y/l/n you need me more than I need you” His velvety voice rang through your ears. “Come. Sit.” he said with a more commanding tone. As your eyes trailed over the luxurious office, I do not belong here you thought. Your legs acting on your own as you find your way in the chair placed in front of his desk eyes never once leaving the floor. “you're nervous” he states softly. You nod softly, a blush creeping on your face.

You hear him lift himself off his chair and soon you can feel his hand on your shoulder, he lowers his body kneeling in front of you. “Do I make you uncomfortable y/n” his hand lifting my head to face him I shake my head “n-no sir” my meek voice barely over a whisper. “Have you read over the contract miss y/l/n?” you nod taking in his handsome features. The curve of his lips, the playful innocence in his voice. “All of it?” you nod lying to him, you dozed off reading the contract around the termination clauses. “And you're............experienced?”

“yes, sir I'm here to please” you reached into your bag and handed him the contract. “Well miss y/l/n consider your student loans and your sisters medical expenses paid for, now that business is taken care of on your knees beautiful let's see how eager you are to please” He stated standing straight up unzipping his pants. You stared at him in shock, how did he know about your sister.

*present* -Month 5 day 22 10:23 pm

You weren't sure what you had said to set Jin off but he was livid. Your terrified state only encouraged his anger. He got off on your misery, he was enamored by the beauty of your face as tears streamed down it. The way you would shake like a chihuahua if he so much as looked at you a certain way. You had fallen into your submissive role the second you handed him the contract. He knew he loved you the moment he saw you that day walking home from work. A man in Jins position had wealth and anyone at his disposal to keep an eye on you and report back. He knew everything about you before he even presented you with the 6-month contract. Even though he had paid off all your expenses before you even knew he existed.

He praised you when you did well, punished you when you acted out. He loved you and you loved him well he thought you loved him. As the days got closer to the 6-month mark Jin heard you making arraignments to leave his side and find another place to live. He thought it was just cold feet you were scared of your love and maybe he just needed to remind you who you belonged to and everything would be alright. Until you came to him with an apartment you had put a down payment on, wishing you could begin slowly moving your things in to adjust from the past 6 months as you put it.

His anger only grew as you continued about the life you wished to lead after you leave him. He could only see red as his hand strikes you. He continuously shoves you back until your pressed against the wall. His hand finding its way to your throat, “who the fuck told you that you could use my own money to pay for some silly thing like an apartment, you aren't leaving y/n” he growled forcing his lips on yours “who put that stupid idea in your weak mind? Your sister? Your mother? Or are you a fucking whore y/n?” you wince as he adds pressure to your throat “that's it isn't it! Who is he? Ill fucking kill him” you look at him terrified words fighting their way out

“NO-ONE! P-please get off me, I-I s-swear there's been no one b-but yo---’LYING BITCH WHY ELSE WOULD YOU BE SO DESPARATE TO GET AWAY FROM ME Y/N I LOVE YOU; YOU FUCKING KNOW THAT YOURE NOT LEAVING ME Y/N” He yanked your arm roughly, dragging you to your room. He grabs the handcuffs he keeps in the night stand beside the bed. Wrapping one of the cold cuffs around your wrist, he yanks it pulling you across the room. “N-no Jin please! I can be good I-I can b-be go-od p-please!” you scream as you grab onto the door.

The pain in your wrist growing stronger. Jins face is now red “what did you call me” his voice is low the burning sensation in your wrist turning to throbbing as Jin stares at you. Your eyes widen as you force the door open, as your small figure makes it past the frame you can feel his hand in your hair, the burning sensation scratching its way through your head.

The tears burning your eyes as you scream in pain “PLEASE HELP ME SOMEONE PLEASE!”

You fight back but its utterly useless and he handcuffs you to your headboard “I fucking help you, you piece of trash. I give you everything! Everything I have y/n, you want me you have that you want my money I’ll transfer it all to you every last cent. I've bought you clothes food trips for you and your waste of space sister, I've given you freedom and respect and all I get in return for my love and kindness is disrespect, infidelity, and used. You want to know why your other Doms got rid of you y/n?” your eyes travel from the ceiling to his face.

The hurt evident, “it's because you’re a gold-digging whore y/n you want money and that’s it you don’t care about how people feel you don’t care about love or anything you fuck anyone that will give you a bigger pay check and leave a trail of broken hearts. But I'm not one of those men y/n I'd rather kill you than live without you” he states standing frozen in the middle of the room his hand pulling a gun out from behind his back, pointing it right at you. “so, y/n do you want to die?”

Your heart raced as you shook your head rapidly the tears rapidly flowing down your cheeks. “N-no p-please s-sir, I-ill d-do anything” his small huffs turning into a hearty laugh as he points the gun to his head, slowly rubbing it against his temple

“It doesn’t matter if you want to leave it doesn’t matter if you want your own apartment. You violated your part of the NDA, Y/n by exposing our relationship and arrangement to your pathetic little sister you CAN’T leave, I mean I could sue you but I already know you don’t have that kind of money. Didn’t know when to bring it up but I felt now was a good a time as any. So, you see Babygirl you belong to me and the only way you're leaving me is death either by my hand or your own” he places his body on top of yours “and I hope for your sake its by your own, you know how I like to see you cry and bleed baby” his lips capture yours as your tears mix with the taste of his tongue.

You closed your eyes as his hard long member enters your core, erasing the misery from your mind as you breathlessly moan “sir”

you’ve sold your soul to the devil and He’s here to collect.

#jin angst #kim seokjin #jin yandere #jin fluff #jin smut #bts seokjin #seokjin angst #seokjin x reader #seokjin yandere #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #bts #BTS request

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wtf-yoongi · 3 years

Text

Softie. / MYG

pairing | yoongi x reader

summary | just a morning with min yoongi 🥺

prompts | “i love you more than coffee.” *distant gasps* + “every morning you kiss my forehead before i leave for work, why was it my lips today?” from this prompt list.

genre/warnings | disgustingly fluffy + very domestic

words | 1,990

note | i wanted to write something like this and then it fitted the prompt someone requested two ages ago and it became way too long for a timestamp and here we are

Very rarely does something beat the smell of black tea in the morning. Not any black tea, but this one in particular.

Forget it, nothing beats it.

The earthy tones coming from the leaves are enough to get you excited about your day and you’re careful not to scoop too much from the fancy, squared, tin box. It is, after all, precious and expensive — it seems like it gets pricier and pricier every time you restock it, almost to the point you’re begging the clerk for a discount.

You know it’s too much and you should stop spending money with that, the same money that could buy you enough tea for a whole year, but this is exactly the way luxury items go. Just above average, pretty packaging, minimalistic logo and a warm feeling in your heart from doing something special for yourself.

Like a ritual, you twirl the spoon and breathe in the steam coming from the pot before closing the lid. The instructions say you should brew it for three minutes and you’re proud to say you haven’t got that wrong once — not even on the day of your sister’s wedding, when she called saying she burned her ring finger, accidentally saw her fiancée and there was a real possibility of them not moving forward with the ceremony that day.

Even though she married with the ring on her middle finger, since the other one was bandaged, everything worked out. A little bit like a sitcom from the 90’s, but it did — in the end, it always did. That’s why you spend way too much money on that tea, because something about it makes things just work somehow. It’s unexplainable, quite magical and, to be honest, a little childish, but you love it.

Naturally, your hands start moving while the three minutes pass, refilling the kettle with water when you hear the shower stop running like you do every single day. In between the tea being served on a mug and his lazy morning footsteps, there’s only enough time for you to eat your peach yogurt.

“Hmm,” he hums and you can hear him getting closer as he speaks. “Treating yourself today, huh?”

You guess Yoongi can smell the black tea as well.

As you’re focused on adding the perfect amount of honey to your mug, there’s no time to turn or even look up at him coming into the kitchen with a sleepy and sweet look on his face. In such a small room, it only takes a heartbeat for him to stand next to you, leaving a quick kiss on your temple and short squeeze on the curve of your hips.

“Any special occasion I should know of?”

“Not really.” You shrug and, for a moment, Yoongi’s aftershave replaces the smell of tea completely. It’s fresh, clean and light, like most things he enjoys without noticing. “I just wanted something different.”

“I’m jealous, I want something fancy too,” he says without any weight to his voice, reaching for the coffee beans placed at the farthest corner of the pantry — the ones he also saves for very few mornings. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod quickly and excitedly, turning ninety degrees to open the refrigerator in search of milk. “I had to. There’s this big presentation today I’ve been preparing for five…”

“So there is something special going on.”

You stop in your tracks to look at Yoongi’s knowing smile, coffee grinder in front of him rumbling and doing its job while he waits.

“You’re a creature of habit, you know that, right? You wouldn’t drink this specific tea if something wasn’t going on.”

You smile at him, finally moving again to add a dash of milk to the mug and mixing it to check if it was enough. “If you weren’t so emotionless, I’d say that’s romantic.”

“Oh, you want romantic?” Yoongi’s tone goes up an octave, mocking you a little. “Fine. How about I love you more than coffee. In fact, I love you more than the smell of freshly ground beans in the morning and you know I love that very much. How about that, huh?”

It’s your turn to mock his words. “Oh, wow,” you gasp, raising a hand to the center of your chest. “How am I going to move on from this? I better email them saying I won’t be able to make it today. After this? Woof! No way I’ll be presenting anything but fifty slides of my favorite Yoongi pick-up lines.”

“That would be a satisfied client, don’t you think?” He plays along, adding the coffee to a French press and topping it with the water you just boiled. “Oh, do you want some toast? I feel like eating toast for some reason.”

And just like that, with Yoongi reaching for the toaster above your head, you’re both interested in something else. He pinches your side with his free hand and you take a step to your left, giving him enough space to place the appliance on top of the marble counter.

“You do have time for toast, right?” Yoongi asks as he turns it on and starts looking for bread. “I don’t want to make you late, the first two can be yours.”

“The tea is still a little too hot, I have time.”

“Good.” He nods shortly. “Sit down. These will be done in no time.”

You watch as Yoongi reaches for plates, knives, butter, strawberry jam and places all of them on the small kitchen table. Meanwhile, you sip the tea slowly, quietly enjoying it and, deep down, wishing for it to work its magic once again.

“Are you nervous about the presentation?” Yoongi asks just as he places two perfectly toasted slices of bread in front of you. He soon moves back to set two more on the toaster and turns to you again, waiting for an answer.

“I’m okay. It’s been worse.” You shrug, focusing on the butter as it melts when it meets the warm toast. “This client is nice. Even if they don’t agree with something, it’s not like…”

“Don’t bring Mr. Moon up again,” Yoongi warns you, slightly uncomfortable and somewhat ready to politely offend Mr. Moon if he ever showed up in front of him. “I’m still not over that. Who does he think he is to mistreat everyone because of a grammar mistake?”

You laugh at the way he seems so bothered by that. “It was a good thing, though, don’t you think? We kicked him out because we didn’t need his business if it meant we had to deal with that.”

“Serves him right,” he huffs. “He was being an ass for a long time, the grammar incident was just the tipping point.”

“And you don’t even know about the emails he sent to the junior analysts. He would literally…”

“Please,” Yoongi interrupts with a tight smile and warm eyes, nothing but light humor in his words. “Don’t make me hate him more. This is bad for myself, I have to be the better person.”

“You’re right,” you agree with a smile, taking a bite and adding a few words in a muffled voice. “He’s a problem of the past. And a solved one, thank God.”

You swallow just as Yoongi sits in front of you with perfectly done toasts for himself. He adds butter and strawberry jam to both of them before speaking again. “I’m glad you’re not nervous about this stuff anymore.”

“I’m glad too,” you admit and take a sip of the magical tea before continuing. “Shaky hands are also a problem of the past.”

“I want you to know I’m very proud of you. This sort of thing is not easy to overcome.”

You giggle. “Yoon, you’re getting soft again.”

“When am I not?” He takes a bite and soon covers his mouth, not being able to stop a smile from forming. “I am a softie, this is who I am.”

“No, but you’re particularly soft today, I think. It all started when you were whining about me leaving the bed,” you say while getting up to place your plate in the sink. When you turn around, Yoongi is looking at you with what you can only describe as adoring eyes. “See? This is what I mean. Do you have a mirror? Look at yourself, there’s nothing not soft about you today.”

He’s the one giggling now, motioning for you to move with the hand that’s not busy with a toast. “Go finish getting ready, you’re going to be late!”

You hurry out of the kitchen with a smile, soon entering the bathroom to brush your teeth. It’s still kind of foggy, nothing but the perfume of Yoongi’s shower gel everywhere, and you have to wipe the mirror with a towel to see yourself properly.

The nervousness could be worse, yes, but it’s still there a little — well, today is the day you’ve been preparing for the last five weeks and there’s a lot at stake. You inhale and exhale deeply, concentrating on the goal rather than the challenge. What happens, happens, but you’re pretty sure you’ve done everything you could and that’s enough to leave you satisfied no matter the outcome.

“Yoongi, I’m leaving!” You call out, fixing a strap on your shoulder and immediately feeling the weight of the laptop and the heavy (but pretty) leather notebook you bought last fall — another one of the luxury items you treated yourself with. When you look up, the man is standing with another one of his knowing smiles and a thermos in hand.

“Were you really not going to drink every single drop of the tea you spend way too much money on?” He raises an eyebrow, extending his arm so you can take the travel mug from him. “I know you’re good and don’t need the magic from the tea, but…”

“Shut up,” you say jokingly, slapping his hand in the process. “And thank you.”

“Come here.”

Yoongi slowly takes a step to meet you halfway, hug awkward given the weight on your shoulder, but you couldn’t care less. He’s warm, inviting and has a comforting hand on your back while the other moves to cradle your jaw.

“I told you you’re particularly soft today,” you say just as he creates enough space to look into your eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi mumbles before pressing a kiss on your lips. You barely have time to register what is going on or close your eyes and it’s already over.

“Are you sure? Because every morning you kiss my forehead before I leave for work,” you point out, one eyebrow raised in doubt, but eyes as soft as his. “Why was it my lips today?”

“You may not notice, but the taste of black tea and honey on your lips…” He hums, closing his eyes to show just how much he likes it. “So good.”

“But I brushed my teeth.”

He leans in again and, this time, stays for a while longer — not barely enough for you, but you’d take anything with a smile.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. Still there.” He turns both your bodies, getting them closer and closer to the door. “Do you think this happens because the tea is that good and strong? Or maybe it’s because you don’t really do a good job brushing your teeth…”

“Ah, Yoongi!"

Before you know it, Yoongi is simultaneously opening the door, leaving another kiss on the corner of your mouth and pushing your body out. It seems like only a second has passed, but you find yourself right in front of the door when Yoongi is inside with only his head peeking through.

“Don’t just stand there, you’re going to be late! Call me when the presentation is over and you have a yes, okay?”

He closes the door, but you can still hear him giggle on the inside.

Read more ›› masterlist

#min yoongi #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagine #yoongi x you #bts fluff #bts suga #suga imagine #suga fluff #yoongi fluff

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matchamorphosis · 3 years

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 | ღ | 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || what seems to be a normal rich summer morning with the women who lives across the honeysuckle boulevard from his cottage lies something else. a buttery rich feeling that spreads deep within Bucky’s heart as he takes his neighbor, alongside Alpine to the farmers market for coffee.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || fluffy fluff! ➳ part one

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || retired!bucky barnes × neighbor![black//woc]reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 3K ➳ 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 || @firefly-graphics

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || if you think long walks with bucky and alpine in the sunny countryside are warnings then so be it but there is lots of food mentioned. ღ also reader owns a flower shop, not a warning thought just some info!

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || this version of cherry wine by hozier ღ this version of mystery of love by sufjan stevens ღ

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || eeeeep!!! so this is my first bucky with alpine fluff and i’m very glad to have it be the first for my fluffy mini series that i’m doing for this month! ღ I don’t describe reader too much throughout the story but what is clear is that I don’t specify on skin tone but yes the person in the moodboard is a woc! ღ anyways I hope you cherubs enjoy reading! ღ

+ p.s || do not repost, republish or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or steal my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡

it was a lavish affair when Bucky found himself tangled with you in the bed of a million perennial petals.

clothing falling and bodies twisting themselves against each other in not lust but emotional apprehension. the soft petals of rose, carnation and violet keep pouring like blissful rain, entangling in his hair and in the crooks of your body.

enough to suffocate but enough to make him feel enveloped in the fantasy- the divination of you you you and only you.

for you are butterscotch benevolence that he will let pool like ambrosial nectar in the cavernous hollows of his collarbones. your tears of seventh heaven euphoria trickling onto his skin forming constellations- like the paint speckles on the forlonged artists canvas of his naked soul.

you are honey sunlight oozing from the basin of the candy floss sky, lacing with the shedding petals that continue to powder in their divine scent and morality. his fine pink sheets soft and silky as the rose petals of Heliogabalus, he’d sigh in heavenly pleasure to be buried alive in petals if she was drunk of the love he has for her.

he sees her playing, singing, dancing and bringing her virtuous spring song deep within the glossy shine of her honey hive eyes. love seeping in the melancholy streams leaking through the old creeky floorboards of his home and straight into the chambers of his heart.

so promising yet so grandeur as he feels his chest warm with her very touch, the ivory bow encased in the virtuous flowers of her emblem garden in his hands- he’d think that he was Cupid but oh how he’s been struck by his own arrow in great surprise. straight into the once extravagant chamber of his heart.

the spiraling golden arrow destined to pierce and rip through the tender muscle of breast to the beating vessel that writes a tragic tale of eternal ravishment in the movements of lyrical beats. muttering with languor-glazed lips, he’d keep her love like a an old locket against his chest for it’s what reminds him of home whenever he feels the cold element on his skin.

there are pieces of you scattered in the wonderous arteries of his heart.

nestled in the folds of the beating muscle, take heed.

for that is his home.

y/n is his perennial feelings left unsaid, exquisite pain yet ethereal serenity. his soft bed of roses and his deadly golden arrow, all meant to give his heart hope.

that he was- however it seems the bed of roses and all the lovely elements it holds have come to a staggering pause.

now as the sun hits the past super soldiers eyelids that dream of flower petals and the heavenly vision of you disappear. they flutter open to meet the single stream of sunlight that has slipped past the slit of the sheer bedroom curtains. brightening up the somewhat clustered space of the room with its single golden string.

Bucky sighs in defeat, this is the fifth dream he’s had of you in a month and he was barely pushing past the second week of May. before he didn’t mind the dreams, they calmed his mind while he layed in slumber during the thunderstorms of April but now they were resilient. it wasn’t no regular thing to dream about the women across the boulevard in the haven of flower fields and maple trees.

Bucky knew this but he couldn’t help but not treat these dreams sweetly. they were the definition of sweet torture, you never hurt him in those dreams as he did to himself but it was a pain to know that you probably don’t think of him the same way. for goodness sake ever since he and Alpine moved the only interactions he had with the maiden were just acknowledgments as they passed each other on their daily errands.

he shouldn't be this infatuated with someone who he's only met.

the soft hum of a purr finally awakens Bucky, his cats paw brushing against the half covered skin of his fleshed bicep. it takes a pat or two to make Bucky open his eyes to find Alpines blue hues staring back at his and he gives his furry friend a crooked smile. a chorus of meows welcoming him to another sunny morning in the peaceful and harmonious countryside.

“morning pal, ya slept well?” Bucky smiles as he lazily lifts his hand to scratch the right spot behind Alpines ear.

stretching out of bed till his feet touch the cool wood flooring, following the simple path from the bedroom to the kitchen he pours Alpine his dish of cream and gets started on his own breakfast. whisking hen eggs his neighbors from afar gifted him the day before and toasting the freshly baked loaves of bread he bought specially from the market yesterday.

Bucky normally didn’t take any gifts from anyone, he wasn’t that type of person to feel comfortable with those sort of things but as the days gone by the cheerfulness of the communities welcoming energy towards him has soften his doubt.

eating his simple breakfast paired with coffee, Bucky bites into his buttery egg toast whilst quickly scribbling down his to-do list for the day. of course there isn’t any tasks that the hundred and ten year old man has to get done but there were things that Bucky did look forward to ever since he settled in a month ago. the country was a lovely peacefulness he had forgotten about ever since he was a boy.

traveling to his grandparents farm away from the city for memorable childhood summers in the sun and fields. turning his head to meet the white linen sheets that draped over the kitchen panels, Bucky can see the herd of brown and black spotted cows from the distance. tapping the pencil against the shiny polish of the kitchen table he bites his lip on what else to add on.

his head lifts up to see through the other window that casts its lovely light against his paper. blue eyes meeting the toffee cobblestone path that led to her cottage, hidden amongst the shrubbery of acorn trees and flower budded bushes. hearing from lots of locals in the cobblestone village near the sparkling sea that she owns a little orchard of peach and cherry trees, a few strawberry patches amongst the vegetation.

it made sense why he sometimes finds a large wooden basket of those ruby fruits at his doorstep from time to time. a card inviting him over for some tea that he would agree to yet he would always call you the next day a stuttering mess canceling it over some important errands. nonetheless it made Bucky's heart swell how understanding you were, sweet just like the ripe fruits you pluck for him on Sundays.

Bucky would make copplers and sometimes pies out of them and if he wasn't so scared of the possibility of being too attracted to you he'd head over to your place so he and him would eat them in your gazebo. but of course he can't do everything his heart implores him to do. was it bad to want to get to know you and imagine what it would be like to befriend you?

maybe do lots more than just befriend you...

sometimes he would find a glimpse of your form in the distance as he headed for the lake neat the lavender fields up north to fish something for dinner. humming while you cared for your flowers, singing to them as you danced along the vintage radio. Bucky could see himself singing and dancing alongside you. caring for your precious tulips, primroses and other beautiful flowers that you sold.

those pretty flowers sweet and divine just as her lips and voice when the two first met, when he arrived in the too expensive car that stood out amongst the scenery. arms occupied with bouquets upon bouquets of trimmed flowers that practically shielded her face, his body ran straight into yours when he got out of his car. flower petals falling with the impact and him apologizing one thing led to another and he helped her with her bouquets all while being stricken when he got a clear look at her.

a clear look at you.

lovely in your sundress that flowed beautifully against your bodies soft planes, there was something about the sparkle in your eyes that made him start to stutter. something about you that made his heart bloom in a recherché flower he still can’t understand because he can still hear the velvety tone of your voice speaking your own name when giving each other’s your introduction.

from there on out a glowing ember of clustered stars burned in the pit of his belly when you spoke his name and he spoke yours. it was soft and innocent as the flowers in your arms but the introduction was cut off far too short for Bucky's liking but he promised you a coffee when he was completely settled in. having to do something so he could see you again cause oh how he wishes to hear you speak his name again and again and again till the flowers sprout, bloom and decay with each coming season.

maybe he should pay you a visit and bring up that coffee...

the music from the radio filling the bright cottage kitchen sweetly alongside the birds singing their song outside. Alpine takes his seat across from him, yawning over the new day that brings nothing but lazy laps and baked fish treats. forking a few honey drizzled raspberries in his mouth, Bucky walks to the front door and just in time the daily paper plops down on his feet from the passing paper boy whipping through the grassy roads on the shiny steel of a ringing bicycle.

bending down to retrieve the newspaper, he passes through the sidewalk of petunias and violets till he reaches his mailbox. the wood creaky and the metal rusty but the daisies that sprinted around the opening was a pretty site to see before Bucky grimaced at people from the outside world wanting to invade his privacy. grabbing the letters before smelling the sweet daisies, Bucky looks through the letters one by one. ripping some that had no use for to be used as fire food for his fireplace, grunting that even though he’s away from the tabloids and cameras there are still people eager enough to want something from him.

a soft voice from the distance pulls him out of his annoyance, it makes his eyes lift from his dreaded mail to the women a mile away singing her song as she reaches her mailbox. Bucky can’t help but look at her from afar; and maybe Alpine knows this to as he watch his lovesick owner admire the maiden from the kitchen windowsill.

with some obscene fortune he notices you checking your mailbox as well. heart pacing in his chest, he wishes he didn’t go outside before showering and at least brushing his hair for your waving to him from the distance.

“hello hello Bucky!” your sweet voice exclaims and it just adds onto the heaven that is the morning it makes his cheek hurt from how much he’s smiling.

“hello hello to you y/n. how is the shop coming along?” Bucky shouts and his heart sinks when you wave him over to you.

despite his mind telling him to not pursue closer his heart makes him walk his way to you standing next to your Valentine shaped mailbox. his worries slipping away when there's a underlying comfort in your posture and aura, alluring like the bees are to the flowers. welcoming and warm and he can't help but feel that way every time he's near you.

speaking of you, its reassuring to also know he wasn't the only one to wear pajama's out since your still in your blue silk nightgown. matching silk slippers adorning your feet, you sip from your tea cup as you read what he believes to be a Cosmopolitan.

“it’s coming along great, thank you! a bit slow the first week but that’s how any business starts but I just received my tenth loyal customer and i’m more than certain i’ll be selling lots of flowers today.” you spoke as you smiled to yourself then up at him.

checking your mail, Bucky’s surprised that you have quite a handful of letters and boxes. all written in lovely cursive and packaged nicely, almost like love letters and gifts. it makes Bucky’s heat sink, knowing that he might not be the only one who’s fallen head over heels for you. by all means you probably have the whole village under a spell with just the way you smile alone but he wants to see that smile the most.

he wants to be the reason for that smile.

“that’s sounds wonderful y/n, maybe I could stop by and pick a pretty bouquet or two," you only smile wider upon those words and much to his excitement you even brush your hand against his.

"oh really? have a special someone in your life who needs some loving?" you perk as you open an envelop but the question makes Bucky's throat dry on how he should answer.

you seem like the type of maiden who loves an honest man- yes, he should be honest.

"well... there is this one special lady." Bucky lingers and that makes you snap your attention away from the letters in your hands. voice dying in your throat at those words and heart beat hitting pause.

"I always thought Alpine was gonna be the only one to get to my soft spot- we sleep in the same bed together," he stops to laugh a bit, rubbing the back of neck with his metal arm and you laugh along with him.

"how is Alpine? i'm noticing he's getting into a routine with sleeping in my chamomile beds in the afternoon," you smile and bring your tiny tea cup to your lips. "would you care for a cup Bucky? this just so happens to be chamomile,"

"Alpine is doing good and thank you for bringing that up I was beginning to wonder where that rascal has been leaving for. will have an important talk to him once I get home and- I was going to ask you something," Bucky speaks while admiring how your thick lashes curtain your honey hive hues as you sip the steaming golden liquid.

no one should look that beautiful just drinking tea yet here he is, breathless on the simple action. if he truly wanted a cup he'd wish to drink from your tiny cup, to press his lips upon the porcelain rim where yours once brushed against. drink the sweet sunshine to experience the closest thing to your honey kiss...

"don't worry it's alright! I love looking over at him when I have tea at the back patio, he's quite a lovely guest. very well mannered, and yes Bucky is there anything I can help you with?" you cannot deny that your heart is practically skipping beats in your chest, fast and lively like the flutter of a butterfly wing.

Bucky runs his fingers through his hair, for someone who has done the simple thing of asking someone out for couple hundreds of times a hundred years ago from now it’s a disappointment that he’s lost his touch. however you don’t seem to notice or care but that doesn't mean he should give up. not when you're right here glowing in your morning dew radiance, anticipating the next words to slip past those lips.

it's now or never.

"h-how do you feel about that coffee I promised? today? I have a few errands to run in town and I was wondering if you would accompany me- on my errands... if that doesn't bother you,” Bucky rambles to a stop and he's thankful you're still smiling that closed lip grin against the porcelain of the cup.

"yes Bucky I would love that! there's a coffee cart near the shop I work at but what about your lady? she wouldn't mind us going out for coffee, would she?" you speak as you gather your letters in your arms. glancing up at Bucky to receive some conformation and Bucky bites his lips.

"I don't think she'll mind. in fact... I think she would love me to go out once in a while. I have a habit of only going out when necessary, coffee with you wouldn't hurt,"

"that's perfect, i'll see you at twelve then Bucky. you can help me open shop to," you smiled and Bucky returned an even warmer one back.

filling your heart with a rush of liason, like a tea cup filling with tea. something meant to be full and warm, embraced with someone's touch and lips as they drank each fluttering honey glazed sensation they have for one other.

something that seems to be happening right now before they break their strong eye contact, wiry- crooked smiles still embellishing their sun-freckled faces.

you wish you could kisses each one off his clean shaven cheeks right now, slightly rosy but oh how it would feel like peach skin against your lips.

Bucky wishes to kiss yours, the shine of your lips the form of heart shaped clouds and he just can't seem to get his head out of the amorous blue you cast him into.

"i'll be seeing you in an hour Bucky," you draw before walking away with a cheeky wink, your eyes still locking with his before you get to the rosy sunflower porch.

"and i'll be waiting for you doll,"

♡♡♡ thank you for reading part one! ♡♡♡ pretty please like, reblog and/or comment what you think and if you enjoy this join my taglist to be notified of my future works! ♡♡♡

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#brattycherubwrites #♡ bucky barnes ♡#bucky barnes × black!reader #bucky barnes × woc!reader #bucky barnes × reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine

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like-a-bag-of-potatoes · 3 years

Text

Our Story - Prologue

theA/N: My first Chris Evans series. This is just a fluffy little series that has been floating around in my brain for a while, and because I've recently fallen head first into the Chris trashcan, I figured he’d be the perfect person for this little love story AU. I mean absolutely no disrespect with this, it's just a work of fiction. I also want to give a huge thank you to @percywinchester27 and @girl-next-door-writes for being my betas for this story. You are both amazing and I'm so grateful for your help on this.

Chapter: One

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (unfortunately no Chris in this part)

Warnings: Absolutely none.

Wordcount: 1850

Four weeks after my twentieth birthday, I left my childhood home in Savannah, Georgia, and pointed my nose towards New York. It was hard to believe that eight years had passed already, but my twenty-eighth birthday approached in large strides to remind me of how much time had passed, and how much had changed. New York City was a stark contrast to Savannah, the city that never sleeps VS the most charming city in America. When I first moved here, it was my intention to stay for only a year, then I would be back in Savannah with my family and the man that I loved so deeply, Josh.

However, life never really turns out how you intend it to, no matter how much you plan for your future. Josh and I used to talk at length about our future together, and I honestly couldn't wait to get started on it all, house, careers, and then a family of our own at some point. Then, after eight or so months of long-distance we finally broke and admitted to ourselves that it was just too hard. I know you might think that since we had stuck it out for that long, we surely could manage a few more months, but by then I had been asked to stay on in what was supposed to be a temporary position, and I had fallen in love, not only with the city, but with my work. I asked Josh to come to me, told him we could find ourselves a little apartment in Queens, or the East Village, something we could afford, and we could spend a few years together here before moving back home to start a family. I guess you’ve already figured it didn't turn out that way, and it ended, as long-distance relationships often do, in heartbreak. It was my first real heartbreak- amicable, civil, and soul-crushing. It was also then I realized, as we all, unfortunately, do at some point in our lives, that love does not, in fact, conquer all.

If I'm being completely honest, I knew within my first month in this magical city that I would never want to leave, and after things ended with Josh, I felt as though I had deceived him in some cruel, unintentional way. Every conversation we had, had after that had been filled with lies and promises I never intended to keep. I had fooled myself as much as I had fooled him. After our break up, although completely heartbroken, I felt free and unburdened, which strangely made me feel even worse about the whole thing. Our love didn't end in some big blowout argument, or because we didn't want to be with one another. It ended because of the thousands of miles that separated us, and because in the months we spent apart, I changed in a way that could not have been foreseen. Never did I imagine myself in a big and busy city, but as I said, New York and me, it was love at first sight.

You might be wondering what job took me from my safe and comfortable life in Georgia, thinking that it must have been some grand, once in a lifetime thing. It was not. It was a temporary job as a personal assistant. I found it as I sat by my computer one night, daydreaming about what kind of life I would live if I had all the money in the world, what life Josh and I could create for ourselves. That's when I came across the ad. A woman, Mrs. Wallace, needed an assistant. She was a very wealthy woman in need of someone to keep track of her very busy social calendar, amongst other things. I knew she was wealthy because she lived on Fifth Avenue, not that I had ever been to New York and really knew what that entailed, but I had seen movies and read books placed in the city and knew very well that Fifth Avenue was a very expensive street. There was little to no description of the job or what Mrs. Wallace was looking for in an assistant, other than that they had to be organized and were able to juggle multiple things at once. Beyond that it really came down to compatibility. I was nothing if not organized, so before I knew it, I had compiled an application letter and sent to her email. I told no one about this, because it was ridiculous for me to think I'd even get a reply back. In all honesty, it had all been forgotten by the next morning, and I didn't think of it again until three days later when, at dinner with Josh I might add, I got an answer. She would like for us to meet. We sent a couple of emails back and forth where I tried to, as politely as possible, explain that I did not have the means to travel to New York just for an interview. I stated that I appreciated her interest, and apologized profusely for not being able to make it out there. It was then she asked for my details, and about fifteen minutes later I got a confirmation from American Airlines that my ticket had been booked and paid for. Two days later I was sitting opposite Mrs. Wallace at a restaurant that I would never be able to afford, listening to her talk about the job I had applied for and what she expected of me.

The very first thing that struck me about Mrs. Wallace was her age. For some reason, I had imagined someone in their fifties, full of botox, fillers, and whatever else middle-aged women put into their faces to look younger, but Mrs. Wallace was not that much older than me. At the time we met, she was twenty-seven, so younger than I am now, and strikingly beautiful. Thick, black hair that looked professionally blow-dried and sculpted so that not a single strand was out of place. It draped over her shoulders in loose Hollywood style waves and stood in sharp contrast to the white blazer she wore. Her skin was olive, her eyes deep brown, and her cheekbones could probably cut glass. When you put that together with her long, model-like legs, an hourglass waistline, and a very ample bosom, the woman looked like a greek goddess. To top it all off she had a warm and kind smile, and a kick-ass sense of humor. Kate, as she insisted I call her, was far from the stuck up, nose in the sky, botox filled woman that I had imagined in my head. We hit it off, and before dessert was served, I had a job offer.

It's hard to explain, but I felt as though I needed to take this opportunity, that this was an experience I was meant to have in some inexplicable way, and I accepted right then and there without a second thought, or even a conversation with my family or boyfriend. Josh was angry with me at first, but supportive, so two weeks later I stood in front of 1040 Fifth Avenue and looked up at the towering building with its limestone and intricate carvings here and there. Kate greeted me at the front door as I stepped out of the car that she had sent to pick me up from the airport. This place even had a porte-cochere to protect the residents from rain as they walked from the door to their private chauffeur-driven vehicles. I would be staying here with the Wallace family, in the staff quarters with the rest of the staff of course, so that I could be available to Kate at all times. And that's how my New York adventure started.

Eight years later, I am still working for Kate, still living in my little room in the staff quarters, but I love it. I have a little bathroom and everything I need. Food is prepared for us all by the cook, Rosalia. She is a little, plump woman in her mid-fifties, kind and compassionate, not to mention deeply passionate about the food she prepared for the whole household. Along with me and Rosalia, the other staff in our quarters are Magdalena, the housekeeper, and Mitch, who is Mr Wallace’s assistant. There was more staff, of course, like the private chauffeur’s, who didn't live on-site and throughout any given day, people would be in and out of the place like it was a busy office space as opposed to the home that it actually is.

Now, Mr Wallace was a very busy man, working non-stop whether it be at his office, or at his home office. It seemed as whenever I saw him, he was walking in fast strides, either on the phone, or confirming things with Mitch who half sprinted behind him with his I-pad, trying not to trip over anything as he tried to keep up and take down notes at the same time. Henry, that was Mr Wallace’s first name, was a little older than Kate, not so much that you could accuse her of being a gold digger, but he was approaching his fifties now. He didn't look it though, he was a very handsome man, and kind. Imagine George Clooney, a man that just seems to get more gorgeous with every passing year. Kate and Henry were busy, always had their hands full with whatever it was, but somehow they always found time to share a meal together every day. Even if it meant having Rosalia heat up some leftovers for them at midnight. They were very much in love, and it was clear in the way they looked at one another, and how they always made sure to have that little moment to themselves every day. A couple of years ago, Kate had confided in me that she could not have children of her own, it was something that had weighed on her since she was only sixteen years old, but with Henry, she said, ‘I have all I need with that man, all the love I could ever wish for.’ It was a shame really, because I knew that Kate would have made an amazing mother, and Henry a great dad. ‘I'm alright,’ she had assured me. ‘I've come to peace with it, and learned not to dwell on something that will never be.’

So, that's the short version of how I ended up here, doing a job I adored in a city I loved with all my heart, so I think it's about time we move forward. Jump to the part where my real story starts. Spoiler alert; it involves a warm summer day in Central Park, a ruined dress, and an extremely handsome man named Chris.

******

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Tags: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss

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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

Text

Long Lost Love // Part One (D.M.)

Summary: Two piles of twelve letters, hidden away in the bottom of a trunk, browning with age. Twenty-four letters in total, all addressed to him.

A/N: This is my entry into @teheharrypotter‘s two weeks of angst! I just really want to take a moment and say that I am so proud of this fic and how it has come out, like ridiculously proud of it. I would really appreciate some feedback on this - reblogs and comments are so important. There is going to be a second part where all the love letters will be compiled into one long post. However, I think not giving too much away only adds to the suspense and angst. Also, the ending... I love it and I think you’ll all hate me for it.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: this is a lot of angst combined with hurt/comfort but there’s a lot of growth in Draco (I think?)

Word count: 5.4k

It had been fifteen years since the end of the second wizarding war; it had been fifteen years of healing and working on himself, of repenting for his family’s crimes during the war. Draco Malfoy had aged in that time; his hair had grown past his shoulders, tied back with a black leather hair tie, and there were lines on his face that had not been there when he was an eighteen year old running away from the castle he classed as his home.

He had lived a lifetime in those fifteen years. He had seen the world before training as a Healer; working his way up the ranks to become head of the emergency department of the only wizarding hospital within Britain. He had trained Healer after Healer; many of them going off to establish clinics in their own community, all of them sending cards at Christmas, regaling him of their successes.

Draco had lived a lifetime. He lost his father first. Lucius had never truly recovered from his time in Azkaban, and though Draco had tried his hardest to form some semblance of a relationship with his father, Lucius had remained cruel until the end. Truthfully, Draco doesn’t want to think about what it was that killed him in the end. Whether it was the spite that had poisoned him for years, or whether it was something else. Draco doesn’t dwell on it; instead, he leaves white roses on his father’s grave every Sunday like any loving son would.

Narcissa hadn’t lasted long after Lucius passed. She had been distraught. Whilst Lucius was not a doting father, he was a doting husband and he adored Narcissa until his very last breath on this earth. To Draco, her tears started that day and didn’t stop until she passed away in her asleep. Her heart, the coroner said. She had died of a broken heart.

A feeling Draco knew only too well.

Despite achieving so much and traveling so far, he had only ever been in love once. There had only ever been one moment in his whole life that had been filled with the kind of love read about in books, sang about in songs, and played out in films. Draco had fallen in love with you when he was sixteen years old and entering what would be the darkest period of his life. To him, you had been the light in the dark. The answer to his constantly asked question: will there ever be a happy ending?

Nothing had ever happened; nothing could happen. You were the epitome of goodness; the very incarnate of its definition, and he… he was the opposite. In those days, his self-hatred ran so deep that he would argue he was the Hades of the story. Doomed forever to the underworld only to fall in love with the Goddess of Spring and hope for retribution that would never come.

However, in this version of their well-told myth, Hades and Persephone never fall into a relationship. In this version of events, feelings were known and reciprocated, but letters that pleaded for a chance either never arrived or were never answered.

So for fifteen years, Draco Malfoy has been working hard on repairing his family’s tattered reputation whilst coping with the depth-defying grief that comes with losing both parents within the span of a year as well as never truly dealing with the heart wrenching grief that accompanies a relationship that was never given the chance to bloom.

--------

It was a bright, clear day in the middle of March when Draco decided to clean out the attic. He had woken with the urge to clean; with the urge to organise his life and start to work through the piles of his parent’s belongings. He hadn’t been able to touch them in the beginning; the most he had been able to do was relocate everything to the attic and then shove the very thought to the back of his mind where it began to fester like an open wound.

Bright and clear was the day when Draco chose to enter the long forgotten attic in the Manor. Bright and clear was the day when he had to hold a handkerchief to his face to stave off the inevitable sneezes from the dust floating in the air.

Looking around the old and dusty attic, Draco takes in the first of the mess. Trunks line the wall; some ancient – locks worn down with time, almost rusted from their exile to the attic; others are much newer such as his parent’s belongings. Their trunks remain almost new; their initials still painted onto the lids in bright gold paint.

The majority of the morning is spent creating two piles; one to be thrown away, one to be donated. Expensive gowns and suits were to be donated. Anything that reminded Draco of his allegiance in the Second Wizarding War was to be thrown.

As he goes through the belongings of not just his parent’s, but also his grandparents, Draco begins to feel conflicted. With each addition to the bin pile, he feels lighter, he feels one less burden. However, he cannot help the guilt that unfurls in his stomach as he thinks of his mother’s kind face and her forever painted red lip.

By the time Draco makes it to his mother’s final trunk, he feels as if he has been in battle once more. Weariness hangs heavy over in shoulders, settling in his bones. His body slumped, not just from the tiredness from lifting heavy trunks and boxes, but from the emotional weight of memories freshly unleashed upon him.

Draco’s movements are slower as he opens the lid to this final trunk. He thinks back to the day he filled it; piling his mother’s correspondence and personal effects in here – separate from the clothes he knew he would one day get rid of. He slides his hands over the emerald green lid – a Slytherin till the day she died, Draco thinks as he smiles to himself.

At some point, he lets a few tears fall. It’s the sight of Narcissa’s handwriting, he realises. He hadn’t seen it in so long – not having received a birthday card or a Christmas present this year due to her death. Seeing her strong cursive brought tears to his eyes; he remembers being a child, sitting by her desk, watching her write away and wondering who on earth she could be talking to. If Draco focuses hard enough, he swears he can still smell the fresh ink drying on the parchment and the melted wax being pressed with Narcissa’s signet ring.

At the bottom of the trunk, Draco notices a latch. Frowning, he flips it open to reveal a false bottom hidden away. Uneasiness spreads through him, turning his stomach to lead as he reaches inside to feel two distinct piles.

The uneasiness turns to heavy anguish when Draco realises just what he is holding in his hands.

------

Two piles of twelve letters, hidden away in the bottom of a trunk, browning with age.

Twenty-four letters in total, all addressed to him.

They now sit on his kitchen counter; the ageing paper a stark contrast to the obsidian black of his counter top. Draco leans back in his chair, huffing out a long sigh, running a hand down his face as he does so. It had been fifteen years, but he would recognise your handwriting anywhere.

It had been fifteen years and he hadn’t had any contact with you. He wondered for so long why his letters had gone unanswered to the point where he stopped writing altogether, feeling the keen sting of rejection.

Fifteen years and he now had his answer.

Hidden away in a trunk; squirreled away in the hopes that he would never find them. The hope that he would forget about you and move on. He never had; he just kept his feelings silent, caging them up in his heart along with everything else he kept from his parents.

Anger surges through him. The first emotion he has felt since he opened that damned trunk.

He lets out a choked scream; the intensity of his anger surprising him as he slams a fist onto the counter top, wincing slightly from the pain now radiating up his right arm.

How dare they, he roars. How dare they keep this from him? How dare they keep you from him? Did you not fit their ideal – a pureblood from a well off family? Did you not meet their needs visually? Your hair perfect, your face just the same.

There was no good reason he could think of. Draco pads over to the bar, tucked away in the corner of the kitchen. There, he pours himself a knuckle’s length of the amber liquid, knocking it back with a hiss. The whiskey burns as it goes down; burns just like his emotions, like his anger.

Draco’s lip curls in distaste as he hears his father’s voice: a distraction, Draco, that’s all.

Lucius Malfoy had never uttered such words in Draco’s presence, but Draco was well aware of his father’s distaste of you.

Reading over his home address once again, Draco is hit with a sense of helplessness. He doesn’t know where to go from or what to do. He reads over your home address, neatly written in the top left hand corner of the envelope.

Sighing, he runs a hand down his face, still uncertain what his next move is going to be. He runs through the options in his head once, and out loud after.

To no-one in particular, he argues:

“I could reply. I could write a letter back, apologising for the absence of replies with a brief sentence or two about meeting up after so much time has passed.”

Draco waves that option away; his tongue too tied up to even think about coherently writing a letter out now. He moves onto option two:

“I could show up. I could apparate to the address right now, knock on the door and ask to speak to them.”

He shakes his head; immediately ridding himself of the idea. For starters, what if you had moved, and he finds himself knocking on the door of an unknown family? However, what if you still live there, and you answer the door? What is Draco to say to you then after such a long time apart?

He imagines the situation; forces himself into shoes that he could possibly be wearing in the near future. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Not a word, not a whisper, not an apology.

So he ignores option two.

Draco knows its cowardice that drives him to the third option, but to go fifteen years without a reply to a letter declaring love… it is too long of a time to expect any form of forgiveness, and he supposes that is what he is most afraid of. Draco’s terrified of not being worthy enough for your forgiveness.

So he goes with option three:

Do nothing.

------

Draco does the only thing that makes sense.

He takes the letters to work.

Draco slides the letters into his satchel, latching the buckle afterwards and taking a deep breath. Already, Draco feels the twenty four envelopes burning a hole through the soft, worn leather of his bag.

Their presence continues to haunt him: placing his bag in his locker and grabbing his lab coat, walking towards the admit desk where Martha – the head nurse – smiles at him before handing him a cup of coffee.

The emergency room is swamped. It is full to capacity with even more waiting in triage. They work as hard and as fast as they can, but it takes time to cure burns from potions and injuries from spells gone wrong.

It gets to the point where Draco needs to take a step back. He has to take a step back and re-evaluate. His personal life is shot; the love he had found at sixteen a dead end until this last weekend. His professional life is all that he has going for him, but on days like this, when he isn’t feeling entirely himself for the shock from the weekend, Draco does find himself being short with patients.

He escapes to the break room; the familiar bitter scent of coffee already relaxing the tense muscles in his shoulders. He settles into a chair at the rickety table, head in his hands as he takes a deep breath.

Draco represses the urge to cry. He pushes it down; deep, deep down inside him where he can deal with it another day. At this moment, all he wants is a hug from his mother and the age old promise that everything is going to be okay. It’s her fault’ it is Narcissa’s fault that he is like this.

That he is a husk of a man.

He feels like a therapist’s wet dream. Blaming his mother, his parents as the source of his problems, but he cannot help imagining how different his life would be if those letters had been delivered to his hands.

He would be with you. He would have given it all up for you.

His lineage; his inheritance; his name; the pureblood mania that infected his parents.

He would give it all up for you.

Fifteen years later and he would still give up every aspect of his life, every part of him that makes him him.

Draco would drop it all in a heartbeat for you.

“What’s gotten into you?” A feminine voice questions. Draco turns in his seat to see his closest friend and confidant, Alexandria Delphi, leaning against the door with a smile on her face.

He cannot help the smile that grows on his face at her presence. He shrugs, hoping he appears nonchalant, “What do you mean?”

Alexandria pushes herself off the door, coming to sit next to Draco at the old rickety table that has been at home in the break room since before time itself. She raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at his obvious aversion. She gestures to his entire being, “I mean this. You’ve been off all day – not as attentive to patients, not your usual flirtatious self with the nurses which I know they are missing very much. What’s gotten into you, Draco?”

Draco sighs, knowing very well he could never hide anything from her. Alexandria and Draco had known each other since their first year of training; an unlikely friendship forming between them, but a friendship nonetheless. Thirteen years later, they had been working in the emergency department of St Mungo’s the longest – second only to Martha, the Head Nurse.

“I was cleaning out the attic over the weekend. Getting rid of some of my parent’s things.”

Alexandria frowns, reaching for Draco’s hand over the table. “You should have called me. I would have come and helped you; you shouldn’t have had to that alone.”

“I know,” Draco starts, running a hand down his face, “I know you would have but I think I needed to do it alone.”

Alexandria nods, releasing his hand at last and bringing it to the coffee mug sitting in front of her. Draco smiles at her before standing, opening his locker and grabbing the letters that call to him from his bag.

Sitting back down, he slides the two piles of letters in Alexandria’s direction, all the while saying, “I found these in my mother’s trunk. It had a false bottom, and they were sitting there.”

Her deep brown eyes widen, “How scandalous! They’re addressed to you?”

Draco nods, “When I was at Hogwarts, there was a girl.”

“Isn’t there always?” Alexandria quips, rolling her eyes at the dramatics of her colleague.

“Anyway,” Draco comments pointedly, “I was in love, or at least, I was as much in love as you can be when you’re sixteen years old. I still am, I think.

“Anyway, my parents didn’t approve of her; they never would so when war started brewing and I went home, I never imagined I would get letters. I never got letters. Turns out, she had been sending me letters all along and my parents had kept them hidden until now.”

“Bastards,” Alexandria spits; furious at people long dead.

“What do you think I should do?” Draco asks earnestly, his eyes never leaving the pile of letters.

“Have you read them?” Alexandria asks; her eyes fixed on the two sets of letters placed between them on the rickety table.

He shakes his head, refusing to meet Alexandria’s eyes, “I think I’m too scared.”

Alexandria smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She sighs, “You aren’t going to know what to do until you read them. Reading the letters should give you the answer you are looking for.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“When you made me Attending,” She quips, yet there is still no heart behind it – none of her usual heat that tends to come out when Draco baits her slightly. She shakes her head, standing from her seat with her coffee in her hand, “I want to see you back out there soon. I don’t care whether you’re the head of the department.”

He raise an eyebrow at her in challenge; she simply smirks. He shakes his head at her antics, already rising from his seat, “I’m on my way.”

“Good, I have plenty of patients for you to see.”

Draco doesn’t reply, he watches her leave with a fond smile on his face.

Alexandria leaves the break room. She leaves as it is the only way that Draco will not see the sorrow and the longing reflected in her eyes. Alexandria doesn’t let him see the jealousy over the letters; the very emotion gnawing away at the ever growing pit in her stomach, only making it deeper as she replays the story of Draco’s first and only love.

She remembers when she used to look forward to coming into work; to help those in need and be a source of comfort for those she couldn’t help. Now, she struggles to make it through the door with the knowledge that she has been in love with the same man for years and nothing had happened.

That’s the thing about loving someone who doesn’t love you back – it turns you into a ghost of your former self.

------

Draco finds himself reaching for the first letter in the pile on a Friday night in the middle of April. If he had to be honest with himself, it had taken him a whole month to work up the nerve to read them. Draco had come home after the conversation with Alexandria and dropped the letters on the side table where they have taunted him ever since.

He knows he isn’t in the right frame of mind to be reading them; a bad shift with too many deaths combined with the two half full tumblers of whiskey consumed creates the equation of self-destruction. However, Draco reminds himself, he’s had fifteen years of internal self-destruction – what’s one more night when you tear yourself down so regularly despite the accolades attached to your name?

Draco hesitates, holding the first of the twenty four letters in his hand. He hesitates; unsure as to whether he is ready to read the handwriting of someone whose notes through class not only made him happy, but hopeful.

Releasing a shuddering breath, he tears open the seal and begins to read.

------

The letters are not long. They aren’t pages and pages of eloquent syntax over your feelings for the blonde haired, cocky teenager he once was. The closer he gets to the end of the pile, the less is written as if you had grown tired of such an act and not getting a reply.

Draco keeps his favourite close to him. It’s tucked away in his inner coat pocket, on the left hand side close to his heart.

The letter has been with him a month now. A month of one letter being read and reread too many times a day; to the point where Draco is reciting it in his sleep. It’s creased beyond recognition, but he still takes the risk every day to take it out and read it.

He misses you. He misses you. He misses you.

Now, Draco unfolds the paper. He unfolds the paper and reads the opening line: do you remember that night in the greenhouse? Writes your neat handwriting; the letters perfectly formed on the now browning parchment.

How could he forget? Draco closes his eyes, letting himself fall into the memory perfumed with compost and night blooming evening primrose.

*****

“Name two purposes of Valerian Root.”

“To help someone sleep as well as to ease anxiety.”

“Very good,” You laugh, moving quietly between the rows and rows of plants. You turn to him suddenly, “What is one danger of Black Henbane?”

Draco pauses, eyes already searching for papery flower with spidery black veins. He finds it nestled towards the back of the greenhouse, hidden away from sight and away from the wandering hands of children. Draco follows you closely; remaining near you as he says, “As a member of the nightshade family, the plant can be toxic if used in large quantities.”

The sight of your smile takes his breath away. You rush to him; toothy grin and loud laughter as you nod your head. “Madame Pomfrey was right,” You splutter, “You’re going to make an incredible Healer, Draco Malfoy.”

He doesn’t need to see the blush to know it’s there; he can feel the heat creeping its way up his neck to his cheeks. “I don’t think I’ll get there if I don’t have you.”

A satisfied smile replaces the happy grin that was on your face only moments ago. It was as if you were waiting for those words to fall from his lips; the reassurance within those words spreading over your worry like a balm over a wound.

How many more nights would they get like this? How many more nights would they have together?

Somewhat foolishly, Draco hopes he has forever. He hopes he has an eternity and a day with you, but he can feel the changes in the air, and he knows it isn’t good. Draco can see the tension at home; more and more people arriving, each just as secretive as the last, and Draco suddenly knows he only has a short amount of time before he’s inducted into the same fanatic group as his parents.

He’s on limited days with you so he’ll take the nights.

He’ll take all the nights.

-------

The shoebox had remained untouched under his bed for years now. Draco had shoved it there in a fit of anger and despair and he hadn’t looked since.

Reaching for it now, Draco represses the growing anger directed at his parents. He ignores the growing resentment surrounding the fact that they hid your letters for years and never thought to whisper a word of it – not even on their death beds.

The shoebox has aged; not unlike himself, he thinks as he wipes the dust from the top. The thick layer drawing a sneeze from him before he can open the box.

It doesn’t matter how many years it has laid unwanted under his bed; it doesn’t matter how long it has remained there, untouched and not thought of – Draco, to this day, can still recount for every little thing in there.

Notes that have now turned brown with age; old photos where youthful faces glance up at him; a chocolate bar wrapper from Honeyduke’s.

They each line the bottom of the shoebox. Draco’s memories of you out there for him to finally confront, to see. He sinks down onto his childhood bed; almost blinded by the force of the wave of nostalgia washing over him, threatening to drown him with the strength of his memories.

The memories hadn’t plagued him for some time though you played on his mind constantly – even more so since the letters.

They’re silly memories, but memories, nonetheless. Ones that he adores; ones that he cherishes.

It was the letters that triggered this. The letters that have brought the ghosts back from where they had been hidden, haunting him quietly until now.

Draco runs a hand through the trinkets in the box. He smiles at them, thinking of Hogsmeade and how he had surprised you with a bar of your favourite chocolate. The grin on your face worth all the jibes from Crabbe and Goyle when he got back to the Slytherin common room that evening.

Draco falls back onto his childhood bed with a huff.

He has a decision to make, and he doesn’t know where to begin. He has a decision to make, and he doesn’t have the guidance he so desperately needs.

Draco wants to see you; he needs to see you, but what if you don’t want to see him?

----

“I heard you handed in your notice,” Draco states as a way of breaking the ice.

Her notice of leave had landed in his hands not even three hours ago. He had spent the time since in a panic; rushing about the hospital to find Alexandria and to question her, to find out why she would leave after so long.

Why she would leave him.

Alexandria nods, “I have. I leave in two weeks.”

“Why?” Draco all but demands, “You love this place.”

“You’re right,” Alexandria sighs, “I do.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

“Because I can’t do this anymore, Draco. I can’t sit here and listen to you talk about those letters and sigh dreamily, or date someone else. I can’t do it,” Her voice breaks, “So I won’t. I want a fresh start, so I’m going to get one.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

“If I had known…”

“What? You’d have loved me?” Alexandria laughs mirthlessly, “Love me, Draco! Love me.”

“I can’t,” He whispers; the words the death knell to any scrap of friendship remaining.

Tears fall down her face, “And that’s why I have to go.”

She presses a kiss to his cheek; lingering for longer than what was probably good for her. When she pulls away, she can see the wetness of her tears on Draco’s cheek. “I hope you find her, Draco. You deserve a love story.”

-----

The cottage is small, but it is perfect. Ivy covered walls with a neat front garden; every inch showing the love and attention being paid to it. From the red roses that makes Draco think of his beloved mother to the intense scent of lavender that reminds Draco of the perfume you wore through Hogwarts. Looking up at the cottage, Draco realises that he had never seen a house look so much like a home.

He pauses at the gate; eyes focused on the bricks of the cottage and nowhere else. He doesn’t let the hope grow; he doesn’t let himself dream of what could happen. He’s thankful he has made it this far.

That he’s made it back to you.

The black gate creaks when Draco pushes it open. He winces at the noise, praying it doesn’t give him away and that you answer the door unexpectedly.

He needs this.

He needs the time.

It’s been fifteen years and since he found your letters months ago, he thought he would be ready by the time he found you.

Now Draco is thinking, perhaps he isn’t ready.

Will he ever be ready? He asks himself. Will he ever be ready to confront the very person he has been in love with since he was sixteen years old?

Draco doesn’t know; he doesn’t think he’ll ever know until he steps through the gate.

Draco’s hands shake as he rushes down the well-worn footpath to your dark brown front door. His hands continue to shake as he raises a single fist to knock on the door, three times.

He’s about to turn away; he’s about to walk away and never enter your life again. He will go away and never think of you again; of what could have been.

But then the lock clicks, and the handle moves.

“Hello?” A sweet voice calls out; your voice calls out.

“(Y/N)…” He breathes, and suddenly his nerves are gone and so is his worry. Suddenly, Draco is back at Hogwarts, the feel of your hand in his as he presses you into walls and steals kisses behind statues. He’s back to being sixteen years old and feeling the unrelenting agony of teenage love for the first time along with the merciless fear to do with the rising tensions.

“Draco,” You whisper, bringing a hand up to your mouth. Shock reflects in your eyes; your eyes that show no signs of aging other than the lines that are now forming in the corners.

Draco can’t help himself; he runs his eyes over your body, taking in the changes that becoming an adult has brought. It means nothing; he would love you regardless, but he cannot seem to help himself from drinking it all in.

From the realisation that he in fact stood in front of you.

You are there, and he is here with you.

“How have you been?” He asks; more out of politeness than anything else.

You shift awkwardly, “I’ve been good, Draco. How have you been?”

Draco nods, “I’ve been good too. I know you’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

You laugh, tucking yourself slightly behind the door, “That did cross my mind.”

He smiles; a large grin that he hasn’t felt on his face in a long, long time. Less than five minutes with you, and you’re already bringing out a side of him that Draco had long thought was extinct. He reaches into his coat, grabbing some of the letters that he keeps there. He holds them out to you, “I’ve only just found them.”

Audibly gasping, you instinctively reach for the letters. Your fingers brush Draco’s and he swears his heart skips a beat at the small touch. “I sent these years ago.”

Draco closes his eyes, “I know, and I cannot apologise enough to you for how long it has taken. I thought a reply in person would be better.”

Tears line your eyes as your fingers brush the worn paper; the crease marks more than evident from where Draco has folded and refolded the letter to read. “I always wondered what had happened…” You trail off, lifting your gaze from the letters to meet his eyes.

“My parents,” He whispers; voice pained. He takes a moment to collect himself, but you put a hand up to stop from saying anything else.

“I understand. You don’t need to explain more, Draco.”

“Thank you,” He replies, smiling softly. Then he launches into his tale, “I was cleaning out their belongings; cleaning in general really when I found a false bottom in my mother’s trunk. When I took it out, I found your letters… and I read them and reread them. I practically memorised them. I don’t think there are enough words in the English language to convey just how sorry I am.”

“Draco…”

“No, let me say this… please,” He whispers, adding on the last word for politeness. You fall silent, your eyes begging him not to say out loud what you know he is going to confess.

“Until the last star fades and we succumb to darkness, I shall love you. I have always loved you; from being a scared teenager to being a just as scared adult. My feelings haven’t changed. I’ve thought of nothing but you for fifteen years,” He pauses, drawing in a shuddering breath, “I love you.”

Silence falls over you both. Draco’s heart pounds in his chest as he watches the emotions flicker over your face in a pace he didn’t think was humanly possible. Acceptance, happiness, relief and then finally, sadness.

He furrows his brows; surely this would be a happy event no? Draco has tracked you down after a fifteen year absence. He has found his one true love at last, and now he stands before you wondering the cause of such sadness on your face and in your eyes.

“Draco…” You trail off, holding up your left hand, “I’m married.”

******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @lunalovegxxd @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @acciotwinz @kashishwrites @slytherinsunrise @kylosleftbuttcheek @remmyswritings @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @superbturtlemakerathlete @inglourious-imagines @ithilwen-lionheart @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @ilovejjmaybank @phuvioqhile @moatsnow @storyisnotover

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey @kashishwrites @justmesadgirl @detroitobsessed @reaganwonders @aspiringsloth20 @just-a-belgian-girl @lahoete @minty-malfoy @fallinallinmendes @ravenclawbitch426 @ochrythum @beiahadid @gryffindors-weasley @dracosathenaeum

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagines

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mytwilightimagines13 · 3 years

Text

Memories from the past (Part Eight)(Caius Volturi)

Word count: 1434

Athenodora’s heart broke at the sight of her mate in tears. She quickly pulled Xandria in her arms and stroked her long, brown locks while a purring sound came from her chest. Caius wasted no time either. He quickly wrapped his arms around his human mate’s waist and started to purr as well, trying to calm her down. “Let it all out, amore. We got you.” Caius purred in her ear before placing his lips gently against her shoulder, taking in her scent.

I had no idea why but the sounds the two vampires made calmed me down, lulled me in a slumber like state. I stayed like that for about an hour before I was completely calm again, the two vampires never leaving. The woman occasionally stroked my hair, letting my brown curls dance through her slender fingers. The man had only moved to lay on the bed as well, one of his arms rested around the woman’s shoulders, pulling her closer to his chest while his other arm laid over my arm while his hand gently caressed my hand with his thumb. The purring sounds never ceasing. “I will run a bath for you, amore. Caius?” The woman said as she gently turned me around and placed me on top of the male named Caius. I slowly sat up, feeling ashamed that I had let myself go in front of two strangers like that. “N-no. That is alright. I apologise for my behaviour.” I said while trying to stand up, planning to make my way towards the door. “Nonsense Tesoro. It is understandable to react to news like that.” Caius said as he gently held my hands in his cool ones. I looked at our hands, his hand significantly larger than mine before looking up into his eyes. His red eyes. Suddenly I realised what they were and I quickly pulled my hands away, getting up from the bed completely missing the hurt look that flashed through his eyes when I did. “I should go. I have used up too much of your time and hospitality.” I said as I quickly got off the bed and made my way towards the door. Caius was about to protest but Athenodora came from the bathroom, interrupting him. “Nonsense, amore. However if that is what you wish we could bring you back to your hotel?” she asked as she approached us. That was when I realised that I had no hotel room or anywhere else to stay at. In a foreign bloody country. Just great. “Yeah about that. You don’t happen to have any recommendations for a hotel, do you?” I asked, trying to avoid their mesmerizing gazes as best as I could. “Not at the moment. With the festival from yesterday I am sure everything will be booked. But-“ a pair of fingers gently grabbed my chin, making me look up into the ruby red eyes that belonged to Caius. “you are free to stay here. This room is not occupied right now. And maybe tomorrow we can talk some more. I imagine you have a lot of questions.” He said as his thumb gently caressed my chin. I nodded my head and quickly broke our gaze, looking at Athenodora. She gave me a gentle smile and held her hand out to me. “Come, bellisima. Your bath is ready.” She said. I slowly put my hand in her cool one, noticing it was a perfect fit it seems and let her guide me towards the bathroom. A very luxurious bathroom might I add. It was huge. It had a large bathtub in the middle of it that could fit four people easily. A large shower was in the right corner with different showerheads and buttons and on the left was a toilet and the sink with a large mirror. “I will let you bathe in peace. Please, do call for Caius or me when you need something. We will be nearby.” Athenodora said. She slowly let go of my hand and raised hers to stroke my cheek gently. I gently pulled my head away and gave her a kind smile. “Thank you.” I said before turning towards the bath. I waited until I heard the door click in its lock before I started to undress. I gently let myself slide into the water. The warmth of it seemed to massage my tightened muscles and made my entire body relax. Realisation of how tired I was just hit me and my thoughts where racing through my mind. Everything that had happened today, what I have been told. A soft knock could be heard after a while. The water was slowly cooling down but still pleasant. “Xandria? May I come in?” Athenodora’s sweet voiced travelled through the closed door. “Ehm, sure.” I said, sitting up slightly, my wet hair clinging onto my shoulders and neck. Athenodora walked in, making my breath get stuck in my throat. She was beautiful. She wore a simply, white nightgown made from satin that reached to her knees and a matching robe to finish off her clothing. Her long, blonde locks

rested over her shoulders in lose yet neat curls. Any make up she had worn that day was completely washed away showing her natural beauty. A gentle smile formed around her plump lips as she made her way towards the sink. Opening a drawer she took out an expensive looking hairbrush. Turning around to look at me she gently raised a perfect eyebrow. “May I have the pleasure?” she asked. My voice seemed to be stuck in my throat and I felt my head nod at her question which earned me a bright smile in return. She gently knelt down behind me. “Did you wash it already, amore?” her cool breath hit the back of my neck making all the hairs stand up, but it wasn’t fear I was feeling. I nodded my head again. “Good girl.” She softly purred in my ear before drying my hair with a towel before brushing out any knots my hair contained. “How are you feeling?” she asked after a while, breaking the silence filled with only the sound of hair being brushed. “I am not sure.” I told her honestly. “Care to elaborate?” “I feel angry because Edward Cullen turns out to be the reason my mother decided to take her own life, I am sad because she is dead yet at the same time I am relieved to know her suffering has ended. Does that make me weird?” I asked sheepishly. Athenodora laughed softly. “No it doesn’t my darling.” Her mouth moved closer to my ear. “It makes you perfectly fine.” She whispered. I shivered softly and a blush crept onto my cheeks. “But something surprises me nonetheless.” She said as she pulled away, placing down the hairbrush on the edge of the bathtub. Her long and slender fingers gently pulling strands of hair together so the top part of my hair would become braided. “Care to elaborate?” I asked in return, using her own words. “I hear nothing of fear in your tone. Not afraid Caius or I will turn you into our little midnight snack?” she asked playfully as she finished the braid. That question completely startled me. I hadn’t thought about that yet. “I- you- eh.” I stumbled not knowing what to say while trying to pull away. Athenodora chuckled and gently pulled me back. A small knock was once again heard from outside. “Come in, my love.” Athenodora answered. Caius walked in and I for a moment forgot all about my fear. He wore a maroon chamber robe with matching trousers yet his chest was completely bare . The robe had not been tied so I had a full view of his muscular upper body. “Is everything alright here, mi amore, Bellisima?” he asked, his voice slightly concerned as his ruby eyes switched between Athenodora and I. “We are doing fine, il mio guerriero. I was just teasing this bella donna for a moment.” Athenodora said before gently kissing my shoulder. “We will leave you so you can settle in for the night. I left a nightgown on the sink. I hope it is to your liking. If you need anything Caius and I will be in the room to your left and right. Buonanotte, mio bellissimo amore.” She said before Caius and her returned to their chambers for the night. I sighed and got out of the tub once my heartrate and calmed down significally. “Those two bloody vampires are going to be the death of me.”

#volturi #volturi imagine #caius volturi #athenodora volturi #vampire #twilight imagine #twilight

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niqhtlord01 · 3 years

Text

Humans are weird: Mutiny

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

Merchant ship Noble Voyager Current commanding officer: Grumbug Folif. Crew: 125 Cargo Manifest: Mineral ore, Dytaxium Crystals, Methane gas cylinders, and mining equipment in need of repair. Charted route: Round about journey from Yenniri trade world to mining world of Alia 1 for cargo then returning to Yenniri for distribution.

Captains log Entry 2905.40 I didn’t think my fortune would take such a turn for the better but it seems the weavers of fate have finally smiled upon me.

Members of the merchant guild approached me shortly after landing for refit to hire me for a transportation assignment. They needed someone to go out to one of their mining subsidiaries on Alia I and transport freshly mined minerals, gases, and crystals back to them. It seems they had hit some sort of wealthy vane and were eager to exploit it before the local officials noticed and increased their mining taxes. They were even willing to pay extra to bring back some of their damaged mining gear for repair.

They wanted to me to depart immediately but I told them I would need at least a day or two to finish refitting the Noble Voyager for transit. Were it not for the timetable they found themselves on I am sure they would have went out and found another ship, but considering the speed in which they wanted their cargo and the shadiness they were no doubt hiding that I was willing to look the other way for they reluctantly agreed and a contract was drawn up.

Captains log Entry 2905.41 With their timetable bearing down on me the merchant members insisted I take off by the end of the day. Those damn money grubbers are pains in my thorax but their money is good and I can’t lose this contract.

I had to put a halt to some of the refits. They’d take too much time and time was something I did not have to spare. Even more to my disgust I had to bring on some new crew and the only ones available seemed to be humans.

The pink flesh sacks aren’t the brightest of the galaxy but they can use a wrench and pick up and carry a crate like a pack animal like any other so they will have to do.

We set off just before dusk and now are heading towards the system jump point. It’ll take about three to four days to reach Alia I. I need to have a word with engineer Hoplop to see if he can boost the engine speed to reduce travel time.

Captains log Entry 2905.42

I have come to regret bringing on the human crew. All they do is complain in about every tiny detail.

“The ship shakes violently some times.”

“The lights and air go out on our crew quarters deck regularly.”

“We need more food.”

It’s as if they are an endless machine that spews infractions for the tiniest matters while the rest of my crew have learned to keep their mouths shut and do as they are told.

Once we get back to Yenniri I will kick them off my ship myself.

Captains log Entry 2905.43

In all of my twenty three solar cycles as captain of this ship I have never once had to deal with insurrection by my crew; a track record that I have proudly worn as a badge of honor when meeting potential clients.

Today that record was ruined when the humans “elected” a representative from among them to bring a list of “grievances”.

I was so enraged by this I don’t even remember what the flesh sacks name was as they rattled off and whined how they were being treated unfairly and working conditions were unsafe. I had the human dragged from my bridge down to the human quarters and flogged in front of all of them as a warning to do as you were told and nothing more.

Captains log Entry 2905.44

Since the flogging there have been no more complaints from the human crew. They now remain silent and do not venture out far past their crew quarters unless on assignment.

As always there is no problem with humans that cannot be solved with a good flogging.

Captains log Entry 2905.45

We exited out of our jump at the systems edge. I wish I could say it was a graceful exit that befitted the Noble Voyager but it was anything but.

The moment we exited back into real space I felt a shudder rack and shake the command deck. I found out that this was not an isolated event but that the entire ship had violently shook along the entire spin of the ship originating from the engine room.

Within moments I was speaking with engineer Hoplop who from the sounds of it was in the middle of hectic action. It sounded so dire that I left the bridge and made my way to engineering to see for myself.

Upon reaching engineering the room was filled with a smell of burning and yet no fires were present. I found engineer Hoplop directing work crews in frantic motion around the starboard engine and called him over.

He reported that the starboard engine upon deceleration from our jump had shook free of its restraints and had damn near torn loose before stabilizing. Even then several connection ports and venting tubes had ruptured but the damage was limited to the engine room.

I asked him if we could still travel at sub jump speed and he that the starboard engine would be out of commission until it was re-secured. The amount of time we would lose for repairs would push us out of the timetable so I ordered him to continue repairs on the engine but we would navigate with portside engine along with emergency thrusters to adjust course.

Hoplop said those were only meant to be used in the event of an emergency and should not be used otherwise. A swift back of my hand across his face silenced him and I told him to just do as he was told before I made my way back to the command deck.

Captains log Entry 2905.46

Repairing the engine is taking up more time than expected and the use of just the portside engine will still add an additional day before we arrive at Alia I.

I’ve switched some of the human crew to assist Hoplop wit repairs. He expressed concerns that humans may become violently sick after being exposed to dangerous engine chemicals.

If they were to die after we had loaded the cargo from Alia I onboard then that would be fine with me.

Fewer crew members to pay leaves a bigger cut for myself for ship expenses.

Captains log Entry 2905.47

We reached Alia I today and set down at the requested landing pad the merchant guild had provided us.

While some of the human crew were still helping repair the engine the rest began moving all of the cargo onboard and stowing it safe for travel.

We are a day behind schedule from the engine malfunction but if we could load the entire cargo haul in a single day we could make up for lost time.

To that end I ordered that any human slacking would result in the entire human crew having their pay docked. To show the flesh sacks I was serious I docked them a quarter pay after finding one of them kneeling behind crates and coughing violently rather than carrying.

I had my provosts carry the stupid being to the brig to be flogged later once we were space bound again.

Captains log Entry 2905.48

Just as I had expected we were able to fully load the cargo in a single day and be on our way back to the systems jump point.

Engineer Hoplop he has stabilized and secured the starboard engine to the best of his ability but has found a new problem. The cabling systems from the engine to the power core were damaged and the engine will not jump unless more power could be obtained.

Sometimes I wonder why I even keep the oaf around when he can’t find the answer to his problem right in front of him.

I told him to continue monitoring the engine and I would inform him of new changes once we reached the jump point.

Captains log Entry 2905.49

Just as we reached the jump point I ordered all crew to their stations save the human portion.

Over the communications system I expressed my gratitude for our newest crewmates handling such trying times with ease and composure worthy of any solar sailor and that they each had been awarded some down time to recuperate and my previous order for docking their pay would be rescinded. I ordered them all to return to their quarters where they would receive their bonus as well.

Once I had confirmation the majority of the human crew had returned to their quarters I had my provost’s seal off the bulkheads leading into the area. Over the intercom I spoke to them directly and said that for their lack of effort and laziness that none of the humans would be receiving their wages and would be dumped back on Yenniri. I then ordered Hoplop to cut the power to the human quarters bulk heads, lighting system, and reduce life support in that area by 75% to generate the needed power for the starboard engine.

I could see through surveillance units that all of the humans were upset at this; some even began trying to break through the bulk heads amusingly.

Overall I feel proud of myself to have tricked them into coming aboard and essentially working for free.

Captains log Entry 2905.50

Some of the other crew members have stepped forward concerned about the treatment of the humans; or so they say. They were easily compliant with my actions once I said they would be receiving a portion of the humans share instead. You can always count on money smoothing things over.

My provosts report they can hear loud banging noises coming from the other side of the bulkheads sealing off the humans and a faint sound of human voices. I’ve told them not to worry about it and that it would be over within the next day or two.

Human resilience was legendary across the stars for being able to survive without food or water for days if not weeks, but thankfully the flesh sacks were not known for being able to break through reinforce Trivar metal bulk heads with their bare hands

Captains log Entry 2905.51

Sirens are blaring across my ship and just like everything else those damn humans are to blame!

Shortly after we exited our jump thermal sensors detected a spike coming from inside their quarters that risks to burn through the cabling supplying power to the engines that overlaps their quarters.

I have dispatched provosts and repair teams to the human quarters and ordered Hoplop to restore power to the bulk heads.

Captains log Entry 2905.51.1

Those fraking flesh sacks were waiting for us!!!

As soon as we opened the bulk head a wall of smoke poured out and blinded the provosts as the repair teams went in. They’d not gotten three steps before humans poured out and tackled them to the ground and moved on the provosts.

The damn humans set fires to whatever they could get their hands on to trigger the thermal warning sensors and get us to unlock the bulk heads.

They’ve broken out and are now running rampant towards engineering. I’m taking a squad of provosts myself and ending this once and for all.

Captains log Entry 2905.52 New captain designation: Nathan Hydel

It is with great sadness that I must report that the former captain of the Noble voyager, Grumbug Folif, along with engineer Hoplop and a large portion of the crew died in a freak engine malfunction that damaged a portion of the outer hull and sucked them out into open space.

As the last remaining officer, chosen by popular election, it is my responsibility now to take over as captain of the Nobel Voyager.

I would say we should mourn the loss of so many of our fellow crew mates but we have no time to spare.

It is now our responsibility to complete our former captain’s last contract in the timely manner he was so proudly known and as such we are now known for as well.

For if nothing else the weavers of fate do not take kindly to those that do not honor their word.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #mutiny

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

Text

Ladybug: A Young Avenger

Hey Everyone, I got prompt for a civil war ML crossover fic but I was really into Team Iron Man on Ao3 for longest of times and, after endgame, I kind of need some team fluff. So I tweaked the prompt. It’s still team Iron man; just… not the way you’d expect. (Also did anyone know else know that Penny’s last name was Rolling?)

It took Tony Stark all of five minutes to figure out Ladybug’s identity.

“Jarvis, buddy?” Tony called out.

“Yes, sir?”

“What’s up with teenagers and being bug-themed heroes wearing inappropriate costumes?”

The A.I took a moment before answering, “…I, for one, blame Vine.”

Tony sighed. First fifteen-year-old Peter Parker aka Spiderman. He took the kid on an as an intern the second he learned about Spiderman. Now fifteen-year-old Marinette Dupain-Cheng aka Ladybug.

He groaned.

What could he do? He needed help.

Captain America needed to be stopped. The Winter Solider needed to be taken down. Team Cap had gone too far.

It was war.

Getting Harley Keener, a mechanical mastermind to agree to be his intern was a bit like chewing nails but Tony always knew the kit would agree. Getting Peter Parker, a child genius with a bright future as a scientist, to agree to be his intern was a piece of cake. Honestly Tony could’ve asked for the kid’s soul in repayment and Peter would’ve asked if he wanted on a silver plate or if plastic was okay? Getting Riri Williams, an engineering prodigy to be his intern, was easy. Too easy; her mom practically threw her at him, all while making him swear into a recorder that he wouldn’t sue. No matter what. Introducing the kids to his labs made him feel like Willie Wonka hand-delivering the golden tickets.

They were all future scientists and engineers like Tony. They grew up worshiping at the altar of Stark Industries like ever future MIT graduate did.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, on the other hand, was an entirely different beast who played an entirely different game. She was a fashion prodigy who had designed for stars like Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale. She had interned for Style Queen Audrey Bourgeois, had her clothes walk the runway during Paris fashion week, and had a summer job that somehow lasted over a year, working for Miranda Priestly, the editor-in-Chief for Runway Magazine when the scary woman took over Paris: Runaway. Said job ended when Miranda when back to New York. Marinette only prayed to the fashion gods. So when Tony Stark, god of the nerds, showed up at her door, she only blinked once.

Said girl sat between her parents, with cool blue eyes glaring at him suspiciously. Luckily Tony was smart enough to bring Pepper with him.

Pepper Potts smiled at the family in front of her; two bakers and the daughter, who made the most delicious macarons that she ever tasted. “So you see, after Tony came across Marinette’s wonderful re-design sketch of his suit on her website, he was very impressed with her talent.”

“But to take Marinette on as an intern?” Sabine asked. “Excuse me, but Marinette has always leaned towards the arts than science.”

Tony gave the woman his best charming smile, “What is science if not another form of art. We both create, strive to better our talents, work to make names for ourselves; experiment and test out hypothesizes. Granted no one in my field ever created the disaster that was crocs.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes, “Didn’t your father help on the Manhattan Project?”

Silence.

Pepper cleared on her throat. “Tom, Sabine, before anyone agrees to anything I’d like to go over safety procedures in place. Would you mind stepping outside with me, I could use a bit of fresh air.”

Tony and Marinette just stared at each other as the three left the room. When the front door closed behind them, Marinette leaned forward, “What do you want?” Her patience had reached its end.

“Aren’t you being a little rude?” Tony smirked.

“Aren’t you a little old?” Marinette snapped back. “What do you want?”

“I want Ladybug’s help.”

Marinette flinched back in shock. Her heart raced in her chest. “How do you know?”

“I’m Tony Stark,” He shrugged easily, picking up a mint chocolate Macron. “I know everything.”

Marinette fought the fear racing through her, and steeled herself like Miranda and Audrey had taught her, “So Iron Man’s wanted Ladybug as an intern? So what does Iron Man get? What does Ladybug get? What does Tony get? And what does Marinette get?”

“You made clear distinctions,” Tony said approvingly, his business-side gearing up. “But I am Iron Man.” He said. “You come to New York for this spring break and for the summer. I get Ladybug’s help in handling a personal issue that has developed within the Avengers. Ladybug gets training from the Avengers. Marinette gets to add Stark Industries and a personal letter of recommendation from Tony Stark to her resume.”

“On the condition, that identities stay secret from the media,” Marinette crossed her arms. “I don’t suppose I can hide it from the rest Avengers for very long. And I get an additional letter of recommendation from Pepper Potts. Pepper takes my friend Chloe on as an intern; she’s the hero, Queen Bee. And only one who knows my identity, besides you. Also, I actually do get to help design your next suit. My expenses?”

Tony smirk widened. The girl knew how to cover her bases. She even wanted to have an Ally with her should things take a turn. “All paid for by me. First-class all the way. You and Chloe will stay in the Stark Tower on the same floor as the other interns.”

“Other young superheroes, you mean?” Marinette guessed, causing Tony’s eyes to twinkle in joy. “Spiderman, Iron Heart, and WarIron. Based on their sizes, I had guessed they were young; teenagers probably. Why didn’t you ask Chat Noir too? Or why aren’t you? Because you’re not, you would’ve mentioned it by now?”

“You mean the Agreste kid?” Tony said, not noticing Marinette’s eyes widen in surprise. “He’s not serious enough for me. I play games but he goes too far. Surprised you haven’t dumped him yet. Get a better partner.”

Marinette took a bit of a macron to get a moment to think. Adrien was Chat Noir. In retrospect, it made a lot of sense. Both were socially immature, and a bit naïve. Each had an idealistic view of things and didn’t let the real world break them of it. For example Adrien and his dealing with Lila’s lies. Chat Noir and Ladybug turning down his advances.

“Very well,” The bluenette finally agreed. “I agree to be your intern. Shall we discuss my salary now or later? Well, need to before I or my parents sign any contracts.”

It was Tony’s turn to narrow his eyes. Not one; not a single one of his interns: Harley, Peter, or Riri ever asked about how much they’d get paid. They’d all assumed it was an unpaid internship and was surprised when their contracts included a salary. “You’re a shark.”

Marinette hummed, “You should see me when there’s blood in the water.”

That was something Tony was looking forward to seeing.

The official paperwork was signed three days later; Marinette was officially a Stark intern. Due to go to Orientation for spring break in New York in a few weeks.

Those weeks flew by. She let Fu know she’d have to go back and forth for a few weeks. She didn’t bother telling anyone else. Her friendships in the class had dwindled dramatically. While most weren’t her outright enemies, her classmates tended to avoid her. If they couldn’t do that, they were beyond cold to her. It was Lila’s doing. She got her hooks into the class, who all wanted to tie themselves to the golden goose, and when it was clear that Lila and Marinette didn’t like each other, they picked sides. They chose their meal ticket over their lifelong friend.

Honestly, it made Marinette almost wish that Lila had lied about her instead; accused her of being a bully or something. Anything. Because at least then her ex-friends would have somewhat of a reason to be ex-friends. Even if it wasn’t a very good one. Instead, they were just bad friends all on their own.

Still, Marinette didn’t mourn their loss as she sat in the back of the class with Chloe on a Sunny Tuesday morning, and they were living for New York that Friday. She had a steadily rising career in Fashion. She had worked under Miranda Priestly and Audrey. From them, she learned it was best to drop fair-weather friends and how to spot wannabes, fame-seekers, and gold-diggers from three miles away.

She was happy with Chloe as her bestie. The girl had turned a new leaf and proven her loyalty to the point where Fu made her a permanent hero. And the Blond had been ecstatic when Pepper Potts had shown up at their door. She had hugged Marinette a full five minutes for getting her the internship. All while screaming with joy.

Both girls were excited to go. Though Marinette did encounter one downside. The night before, Jagged Stone and Penny Rolling; or as Marinette deemed them #RollingStone, called her. Or rather Penny did the talking. Jagged was trying to wrestle his newest jacket away from Fang’s teeth. Penny offered Marinette a chance to spend her spring break traveling around on tour with Jagged, as his personal stylist. Marinette had no choice but to turn the job down. She loved her honorary Uncle Jagged but she already signed the contract.

That morning Lila had spun another set of lies. The first was about helping Tony Stark fix his Iron man suit when she was traveling in America. The second was about the newest song Jagged Stone wrote about her. It was exhausting to listen to but the class hung on every word.

Bustier had just finished her first lesson of the day when she invited Alya to stand up.

The glasses-wearing girl grinned at the class, “So as everyone’s aware; there’s a class pool party is this Saturday; first day of spring break, baby!” The class cheered. “Everyone who’s invited should’ve gotten their invitation. Don’t want any drama,” She cast a cold look to the two girls at the back of the class. “Invite only. So no party crashers. Marinette, Chloe what are you doing this Saturday?” Alya smirked at her call out that the two girls weren’t invited; that they were the only ones who weren’t.

As if on cue, the classroom’s door burst opened and in walked Tony Stark, followed by a very apologetic looking Pepper, “Marinette; it’s time to go! Grab Pepper’s minion and let’s go.”

There were gasps from the class. Max sat up straight. Iron Man was in front of him, in his class, this was the best day of his life.

Marinette just sighed, “Did you kick the door open, Tony?” Disapproval clear in her voice.

“…No?”

“I can’t go now!” Marinette explained. “I have class. We weren’t supposed to leave until Friday, remember.”

Tony waved her off, “Details. Spring Break starts now. Queenie, Mari; chop-chop! New York is waiting!”

Bustier decided to step in. She may not always be the best teacher but she refused to allow a strange man, even if that man was Tony Stark, to take away any of her students. “Mr. Stark, can I ask what you want Marinette and Chloe for?”

Thankfully, it was Pepper that answered as she closed back the classroom door, “They have been employed as interns for Stark Industries. They’ll be attending orientation during their spring break at Stark Tower.”

Max actually fell out of his seat. Because this couldn’t be happening. Stark industries rarely ever took high schoolers’ as interns. Tony Stark only chose the best of the best. How could Marinette land the job?

“Marinette’s my intern,” Tony grinned. “Blondie’s Pepper’s. Who else is gonna teach her how to rule the world.”

A slow smile spread across Chloe’s face, “With an iron fist.”

Tony pointed at her, “You scare me. Pepper get your intern!”

The other students were amazed. Marinette was Tony Stark’s intern. Chloe somehow got Pepper Pott's attention. What had they missed? Why didn’t Marinette tell them? How?

“That’s what we’ll be doing this Saturday, Alya,” Chloe drawled. “In New York, hanging with the Avengers.” Causing Alya to flush with anger. “We couldn’t come to your pool party even if we wanted to. Which we don’t.”

“He found my sketch of a potential Iron man suit design,” Marinette explained, continuing the story Tony had told her parents. “He loved it and offered me the job a few weeks ago.”

“Weeks?” Nino asked. “And you didn’t tell us? Dudette, not cool.”

Alix nodded, her arms crossed, “Yeah I thought we were friends!”

Marinette and Chloe just looked at them like they were stupid.

Alya put her hands on her hips, “Mr. Stark, why didn’t you ask Lila Rossi to be your intern? She helped you with your suit before. She’d be much better than Marinette!”

The girl in question face turned bright red, “This can’t be happening.” Lila muttered.

Tony looked honestly confused, “Lila? Who’s Lila? No one ever helped me with my suit except the kids I already got as interns.” He looked at Pepper. “Do I know a Lila Rossi?”

Pepper shook her head, and turned fierce eyes towards Lila, “Miss Rossi, please refrain from lying about Tony Stark and or Stark Industries. Or we will sue you on the grounds of defamation.”

Lila squeaked. Sue? She couldn’t be sued. Her mother would kill her if she got a lawsuit from Tony Stark.

It was the rest of the class’s turn to look confused.

However, before anyone could ask any follow-up questions, the classroom door burst opened again. Jagged Stone strutted in, followed by a very apologetic look Penny and happy Fang with, what looked to be, the arm of a leather jacket.

“Marinette!” Jagged yelled. “What’s this about you not coming on tour? I need my favorite stylist, love.

Marinette just sighed, “Did you kick the door open, Jagged?” Disapproval clear in her voice.

“…No?”

The bluenette just shook her head, “I have plans this Spring break. I’m sorry.”

“Plans?” Jagged whined. “What could be better spending your Spring Break with a Rock Star? You can even bring your Blonde. Penny could use an assistant!” He paused, finally noticing it wasn’t just kids. “The bloody hell is Tony Stark doing here?”

The two famous men eyed each other. The women they came with just looked so done with the world.

Tony crossed his arms, “I got custody of Marinette for Spring Break; you snooze, you lose.”

“What?!” Jagged hissed. “She’s my designer.”

“She’s my intern!”

Jagged glared, “I knew her first. By rights, I get custody.”

“I have a contract that says otherwise!” Tony taunted the Rock Star. “Her future is Stark Industries.”

“Her future is Rock and Roll!” Jagged yelled back.

Both men glared at each other.

“Pepper!”

“Penny!”

Both women groaned. How was this their lives? Why what was this their lives? What bus full of nuns and orphans did they rob in a past life?

Penny smiled, “Marinette means the world to us. I’m her honorary Aunt Penny,” She held out her hand for Pepper. “Jagged’s her honorary Uncle. We’ve known her for years. Contracts were already signed?”

Pepper nodded, “Tony doesn’t play when it comes to his interns. He won’t budge. Trust me; we’ve done this three other times. Marinette’s his kid now, all but legally.” For now, Pepper didn’t bother to add. Every now and then she found discovered a new set of adoption papers with one of the interns’ names on it; one time she found three sets for all three. Plus if Tony kept hinting any harder, May was going to gut him. “She’ll be in New York for Spring break and all of the summer.”

“Summer!” Jagged whined. “He gets custody for summer too! No!” he shook his head. “Not happening. Call our lawyers, Penny. We’re going to family court!”

Tony blew him a raspberry. Tony Stark blew Jagged Stone a raspberry. The class could only blink, trying to process what was happening.

Marinette just wanted the earth to open up and swallow her.

“Marinette already designed your clothes for the tour,” Penny tried to placate. “They’re amazing. We can call and skype if we need any additional tips. We have a concert in New York over spring break so we can go and see.” They didn’t. But Penny would be damned if she could have one booked within the hour. Anything to stop jagged from mention family court again. “Most of our summer is free too, we can visit Marinette whenever we want.”

Jagged huffed but didn’t say anything.

“Well not whenever you want,” Tony teased.

“Family court!” Jagged hissed.

“Tony!” Pepper said warningly. She was not going to let this going to court. No matter how lovely Marinette was. “Be nice.”

Tony pouted.

Marinette raised her hand, “You guys know that legally my parents still have custody of me, right?” There was no answer. “Right?!” Nothing.

The bluenette just sighed.

Alya took that moment to break in, “Jagged, don’t you want to say hi to Lila? She’s right here,” Alya pointed to her bestie. “Oh, can we listen to the songs you wrote for her? Can you tell us how she saved your cat from getting hit by a plane?”

The look Lila gave Alya could’ve killed a thousand men.

Jagged looked affronted, “Lila? Who’s Lila?” He looked at his fiancé. “Penny, do I know a Lila?”

“No!” Penny glared fiercely at Lila. “Jagged Stone has never written a song about an underage girl before. He has never owned a cat. What parents and airline would careless enough to allow a child to rush onto a runway for a pet? Refrain from spreading any further slander. Or we’ll hit you with a lawsuit so fast you’ll get whiplash.”

“I’m allergic to cats by the way,” Jagged told the class. “All fur actually. That’s why I got Fang here.” He pointed the crocodile who had made its way to Marinette for cuddles. “I’ve had him for twenty years. He’s the only pet I’ve had all that time.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and took the crocodile in her lap.

“Twenty years?” Kim’s eyebrows furrowed. “Whoa, that’s long that we’ve been alive.”

Nino glared at Lila, “Yeah it is.” He finally realized the girl was lying. Most of the class had in fact.

“Enough of this,” Tony waved. “Marinette, Chloe, time to go. Leave the dinosaur.”

Bustier took a deep breath, “No one is taking Marinette or Chloe anywhere. Until I get a note from their parents verifying that is. I’m going to have to ask you all to leave.”

Penny and Pepper nodded understandingly. Jagged and Tony just looked shocked.

“But I’m Tony Stark!”

“I’m Jagged Stone, love!”

Bustier just rolled her eyes and shooed them out of her class. It took some handling, and eventually, the women had to drag the guys out. The teacher shut the door with a sigh of relief. She brushed off the imaginary dirt on her clothes. “Marinette,” She called. “If you could tell any future visitors to wait until after school to pick you up, with a note from your parents that would be most helpful.”

“Sorry,” Marinette blushed, a deep dark red.

Bustier walked back to her desk before pausing. “Is that Crocodile still in my class, Marinette?”

“…Yes.”

“I think he’s here for the rest of the day,” Chloe shrugged. “Unless you want to invite Jagged back?”

Bustier paused. No. Never again. “No. No. Fang can stay for the day.”

When the lunch bell rang, Marinette found that it was easier to avoid her classmates' questions, as they were too busy yelling at Lila. It wasn’t long after that Ladybug had to take down Lila’s seventh akuma form.

Marinette and Chloe left that night to New York. Somehow he managed to convince their parents that missing three days of school to study in the most advanced building in the world was a good thing.

When they got to Stark Tower, they were given a quick tour. Then Pepper took Chloe to show her where she would be working. And Tony took Marinette the workshop where three other kids were already working.

The oldest one glanced at her and snorted, “God he kidnapped another one.” He was the tallest in the room with dark brown hair and a smirk on his face.

The other two snickered.

Tony looked affronted, “Oh please; your parental units practically threw you at me.

The younger looking boy smirked, “Aunt May threatened to shank you next time you took me out of school early.” He had light brown hair and big brown eyes

The genius pointed, “You tell Aunt Hottie to leave me alone.”

“HI, I’m Marinette!” She waved happily. “He keeps mentioning he has custody. And I’ve become moderately concerned.”

“And you should be,” The other girl in the room laughed. She was a pretty brown-skinned girl with black wild curls. “Name’s Riri.”

“Harley,” Said the first boy who spoke.

“Peter,” The other boy introduced.

Marinette nodded and eyes them, “WarIron,” The pointed at Harley. “Iron Heart,” Then at Riri. “Spiderman, right?” She pointed at Peter.

The three looked at Tony with questions in their eyes. Tony raised in hands in surrender, “Hey, I told her nothing.”

Harley eyed the new girl, “You’re from Paris, right?” She nodded. “Ladybug, I’m guessing.” Marinette blushed. “Welcome to the Young Avengers, I guess. Why’d he bring you in?”

Marinette shrugged, “He said to there was a personal problem happening with the Avengers. He wanted my help.”

The teen froze. Peter just shook his head, “You didn’t, Tony!”

Tony looked sheepish.

“What?” Marinette asked.

Riri rolled her eyes, “That personal problem? It’s called ManHunt.”

“I’m sorry?” Marinette asked. She was going to have to hunt a man?

“It’s a game,” Harley explained. “Team Iron Man versus team Cap. One team hunts the other in a sort of hide and seek type of thing and tries to capture as many members as they can. Last time we played it, Team Cap crushed Team Iron man. It’s why Tony brought us all in. Revenge.”

Said Man didn’t look one bit ashamed, “Rules were since Thor and the Big guy are gone I can bring in whoever I want to replace them.”

Marinette tossed up her hands, “You brought me here to play a game?” Unbelievable.

“No,” Tony said. “I brought you here to take out the Winter Soldier.”

“Say what now?”

“Welcome to orientation,” Was All Tony said to her question.

The kids trained together for a week; Chloe, a girl named MJ who was Pepper’s other interns, and a boy named Ned who was a tech intern, were brought in as well. When it turned out that Kagami was in New York City for a fencing tournament. Tony was happy to bring in the scary girl as well. (And somehow get her mother to agree to let her stay for Spring Break) He made practice stealth and learn hand signals. Tony drilled them on the Team Cap’s strengths and weaknesses. They reviewed videos of previous missions until they had everyone’s fighting style memorized. Tony went over body anatomy aka where the best place to hit them was. They memorized plans and scenarios to take out each specific member of Team Cap.

The teens spent a lot of time in the lab creating gadgets to use against the Avengers. Each one straight out of a spy movie.

As far as Tony was concerned this was War. And there would be no prisoners.

Team Cap consisted of Captain America, The Winter Soldier, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Scarlet Witch, The Falcon, Antman, along with several Shield employees which included Fury, Melinda May, and Coulson.

Team Iron man consisted of Ironman, War Machine, Vision, Maria Hill, The Wasp, Quicksilver, Daisy Johnson, and a bunch of names Stark employees: I.E the interns. (Black Panther refused to participate. Though he and sister would watch from Wakanda.)

Each team had a total of thirty players; no more, no less.

The game would take place at the compound. Anything area within the compound legal territory was free to use. The living room would be home base and were all ‘out’ people had to stay. Until they were freed. Or until every member of the hiding team was captured and then it was Game Over. Everyone could communicate with their own team using special mics; normally only taken out for missions. However, those imprisoned in the home base couldn’t communicate with their team.

On Saturday, just before sunset; the main superheroes of the avengers met up. Tony facing Steve. Rhodey glaring at Bucky. Vision versus Wanda. Hawkeye to QuickSilver. The wasp against Ant-Man and the Falcon.

Steve smiled, “Tony.”

“You ready for war, Cap?” Tony asked.

“Training exercise,” Steve corrected his husband. “I trust your team is ready.”

Tony smirked, “Oh you have no idea. Your little spies are already hiding in the shadows.”

“Like your team isn’t?”

The alarm went off.

Tony suited up, “You have 1000 seconds, Steve.” His helmet shut. “I’d get running.”

Steve rolled his eyes. His team split up, running into the growing shadows.

The game had started.

Marinette waited, hiding in the shadows on the roof. Her ladybug costume was all back with little red polka dots; mostly easy to move around body armor. This wasn’t her actually Ladybug suit; Tikki, while willing to create a new suit design, decided it wasn’t a good idea to involve magic. So Marinette designed herself a new suit, and Tony help her trick it out.

Tony had pointed out the all-good hiding spots located in the Compound. She was the overly large landing pad. She forced herself to stay completely still. Even when she saw the Falcon take flight with WarIron right on his tail.

The smallest of moments caught on the corner of her eye, the glint of metal. An arrow, she realized. She smiled. Hawkeye.

She watched the man take stock of the room, looking in every possible place a person could hide. Unfortunately for him, Marinette had a bit of luck on her side.

“All clear on the roof, Cap,” Clint said into his mic. “I’ll keep a lookout from up here.” There was silence as he listened to Cap’s orders. “Okay. Will do. Stay invisible, got it. Over and out.”

The second the conversation had ended, Marinette through a smoke bomb at his feet. Before Clint could even finish saying, “What the he-” Marinette was on the attack. Using the smoke to her advantage, she swung her yo-yo at Hawkeye’s feet. The String wrapped around his legs, tripping him. Five seconds later, Hawkeye was hogtied on the ground.

Marinette touched her mic, “Tweety Bird down. Bringing him to home base now!”

“Copy that, Ladybug,” Tony said. “Be careful.”

Clint looked up at his assailant; expecting to see Tony or the Wasp, any avenger. Instead what he saw, was a teen girl with a scary blue-eyed glare on his face, “Who are you?”

Marinette leaned down, “Your reckoning.” She hissed.

“What the fuck!” He said as he was thrown over the girl’s shoulder and carried to home base.

When Marinette got to home base, she saw Harley putting a rather put out Falcon on the ground, Spiderman with five webbed up shield agents, Chloe had brought in two, Kagami and Riri brought in six. MJ and Ned both brought in one random shield agent. Marinette tossed Hawkeye on the couch.

It had been twenty minutes, Clint knew by the clock on the wall. Twenty minutes since sunset and the game had started. And they had already lost just over half their team to a bunch of teenagers.

Clint couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had Tony unleashed on them.

“Foghorn Leghorn secure,” Harley said into his mic. “Tweety in his cage. The shadows are all accounted for.”

“I’m Tweety,” Clint told Sam.

Sam paused. “…Am I Foghorn Leghorn?”

“Wasp and Vision on their way with The Blue Fairy,” Tony’s voice rang their ears. “They’ll play guard dog. QuickSilver is down; Miss Tuffit got him. Seven minions gone; Captain Hook and his jolly crew got them. Over and out.”

“Queen Bee, MJ, guard the Home base until they get here,” Harley ordered. “Guy in the chair, Mj, back on monitor duty. Fulfill mission Top hat ASAP.” They nodded and left the room.

Top hat was important. The two were trying to hack into Team Cap’s communications, once they did; it was game over.

“The rest of you complete the assignment,” He told them.

Then all split up again. Vision and Wasp arrived with Scarlet witch just as they were leaving. All three avengers gave the kids confused looks as they left.

It would take Marinette another hour before she came across another member of Team Cap. And she didn’t so much as come across, as she did respond to Peter’s cry for help.

“Captain Sparkles!” Peter yelled in their earpiece. “Training yard. I’m trying to hold hi-No I won’t give you back your shield! Hurry! Over!”

“I’m around the corner,” Marinette hissed into the mic as she ran for the yard. When she arrived it was just in time to catch the shield that was flying at her face.

She held the shield tightly in her hand, feeling like Wonder Woman, as she stared down Captain America.

Steve looked at the young girl who had joined the fight, “My shield, miss?” He was aware that Spiderman had landed behind him.

Marinette smiled sweet. Then she launched the shield at him with such brute force, he was lifted off his feet. “The Name’s Ladybug.”

Steve didn’t catch the shield in time and it bounced back to Spiderman.

Captain America glared at the two teenagers.

Then the fight was on.

Spiderman hits Steve with his shield, distracting him. The shield falling to the ground. Ladybug barges Captain America backwards. Steve shoulders her to the floor. Marinette lands on the ground; pain flaring across her shoulder. Spiderman punches Steve who just lifts him and slams him against the ground. Spiderman raises a fist but Steve twists it. A web shoots out of his hand, the sound of a small explosion fills the training yard.

Marinette takes the distraction to trip Captain America and jump up. As Steve falls to the ground, Marinette uses the electro-shooters that Riri made and shocks the dear life out of him. It wasn’t enough to bring him down but then Peter added in his own shocking web-shooters.

Yet Steve still looked ready for another round of their fight. Marinette quickly picked up the shield and slammed it across his head. Steve Rogers fell forward in a slump.

Spiderman webbed up with quick-drying cement.

Both teens breathed heavily; struggling to catch their breath, tense from the fight. Marinette could even find it in herself to unclench the shield.

“Captain Sparkles is down, over,” Marinette said into the Mic.

“We’re bringing him in, over,” Spiderman added.

There was a moment of silence.

“…What the fuck?” They heard War Machine say.

When Marinette walked in with the shield in one hand and helping Spiderman carry Cap with the other, the avengers present quietly lost their shit. Kagami nodded, where she stood over Fury who looked more pissed than ever before in his entire life. Chloe stood over Coulson, who just looked put out. MJ and Ned looked overly pleased. Their mission had been a success but it only lasted long enough to get Fury and Coulson. After that, Team Cap was smart enough to ditch the communications, figuring something was up.

“Who’s left?” Spiderman asked in the Mic. “Over.”

“Stoneheart,” Kagami answered bitterly, referring to Melinda May, into the Mic so the team could hear them. “She took out Daisy and got away. Hill is after her now.”

“Jon Snow and Miss Tuffit,” Chloe said referring to the Winter Soldier and Black Widow. “Iron Man and WarIron are after Small fry. War Machine has eyes on Miss Tuffet.”

“I’m closing in on Miss Tuffit, over.” War Machine said.

Marinette looked at her team, pressing on her mic, “Guy in Chair, Mj, I want you on Stoneheart’s tail. Spiderman go be back up for the War Machine. Iron Heart, meet me on the Location 12. Over.”

“What are you going to do, over?” Harley asked.

Marinette clenched the shield in her hands, “I’m going to go tell Jon Snow that Winter Is Over. Queen and Dragon with me. Over.”

The battle with the Winter Soldier was epic. The showdown happened in the gym. It turned out they weren’t hunting for the Winter Soldier, the Winter soldier was hunting for them. The second they walked into the gym, the doors closed behind them.

Bucky jumped down from the rafters. He stared at the girls. He had seen them fight. None of them fought with any ounce mercy but plenty of skill. But they were clearly just kids. Just Dames in over their heads. He’d go easy on them. “Shall we, Ladies?”

Ladybug, Queen Bee, Iron Heart, and Dragon shared a look before giggling.

The Winter Soldier only just barely stood a chance.

The girls laid Bucky gently on the floor on home base. He grunted and glared at them.

A few minutes later, Tony and Rhodey walked in with the Black Widow. The last of Team Cap.

Tony smirked, “Game over.”

Rhodey shook his head, “Record time; two hours and four-two minutes. Beats the last one by about seven hours and sixteen minutes.”

Then they debriefed. Video of the fights and footage was seemed was shown so everyone could see where they could improve. The image of tiny Ladybug clocking Captain America in their head with his own shield was rewinded and watched seven times.

Tony fell over laughing, “I’m putting on Youtube!”

“I will divorce you!” Steve snapped but couldn’t fight the smile on his face.

Once The random agents of shield and Stark industries left, Steve glared at Tony. His team had gotten demolished. In record time. “You brought in outside heroes, that’s not fair.”

“No,” Tony laughed. “I brought employees of Stark Industries as agreed upon. Everyone meet WarIron,” Harley lowered his helmet. “Iron Heart,” Riri lowered his, “You know Spiderman already,” Peter took of his mask and waved. “MJ, and Ned” Both teens nodded. “Ladybug,” Marinette took off her mask. “Queen Bee,” Chloe glared as she removed hers. “Dragon!” Kagami took off her black mask. “The interns. Otherwise known as the Young Avengers.”

“Oh, fuck you too Stark,” Clint complained. “Did you see what they did to poor Bucky. He’s the deadliest assassin in history, and I felt they went a little rough.”

Bucky nodded with a wince, “Can I have my arm back.”

Steve looked at the bluenette still holding his shield, with a charming smile.

Kagami glared. She held the metal arm like trophy. “Spoils of War.”

Marinette giggled.

Being a intern was going to be fun.

#ml fic #ml salt #adrien salt #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #Avengers #stony #tony stark #team iron man #peter parker

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solastia · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary | 2

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x F!Reader

Summary: Your bed & breakfast has a new regular...Jeon Jungkook of BTS

You shuffle into your office, still a little sleepy despite having a shower and having a steaming cup of coffee in your hands. You weren’t sure what the cause of it was, but you’d been entirely too restless to sleep well. Too much excitement, perhaps?

You shrug to yourself and sit into your office chair with a loud yawn, ruffling your still damp hair as you power on your laptop. You still hadn’t received any reservations for this week and you were hoping someone would come by for the weekend at least. You had some honeymooners reserved for next week, but that didn’t help you now. An entire week without guests would put a noticeable deficient in the books.

That’s why when you pulled up your check-in program and saw that you’d been booked for the entire week by a single client, you had to verify that you weren’t still asleep. You pinched yourself and cringed at the pain, staring again at the program.

Sure enough, it was all still there. One client, for seven days straight. They’d booked the biggest room upstairs, the only one up there besides your own. What was incredibly strange is that they changed the offered rate. Normally, you were one of the cheapest places in the area and charged $120 a night. Not bad for one of the more expensive areas in Northern California. This person was offering you a deal of $300 per night, along with fees for meals and a hefty “to be discussed” tip if you were to close reservations for anyone else. They were trying to rent the whole place? So probably some celeb going for anonymity by hiding in an unknown B&B.

You shrugged. It wasn’t that crazy, although most local celebs tended to hang out in Carmel rather than around here. And it certainly wouldn’t be the first one you’d hosted, simply the first one that had been so generous. The other two were well-known names and you’d been expecting a hefty tip from them but they’d been surprisingly tight-fisted. One had even tried to argue your nightly fee down in exchange for using the name of your place on his social media. You’d been happy to decline.

While a little more business would be nice, you didn’t want the place overrun. You wanted it small and cozy. Safe, for yourself as well as your guests. The whole purpose of the place was to have somewhere calm and comfortable to escape to.

This person must be especially desperate if they were booking the entire place to be alone. There wasn’t a mention of them bringing any other guests with them. You exhaled noisily and clicked accept, sending them a little welcome email with all the instructions they’d need. You wondered with a self-amused grin if you should start putting a little footnote mentioning that celebrity scandals or drug-filled parties were not allowed on the premises.

You lean back in your chair when you’re done, taking sips of your now luke-warm coffee as you think over everything that you have to do to get ready. According to the form they filled out, they’d be arriving that evening. You kept the house in shape daily so you didn’t have much to do in the way of chores, but you should make a menu for the week, get the fireplace in the room prepped, and hit up a few of your friends for the local event tickets.

Thor comes up and bumps your thigh, reminding you that you still had to take him out.

“I got you, buddy,” you chuckle, standing up with a groan and going to fetch his leash. “We have a long day ahead of us, and then maybe you’ll have a new friend for a bit, huh? You gotta be on your best behavior.”

Thor barks softly and you pretend he’s answering you instead of demanding you hurry the hell up with your shoes. You decide at the last minute to throw on a hoodie too since the temperature was lowering fast. You hiss as you step outside and hope that Thor manages to get his business done fast. But even the chill wasn’t enough to bring down your mood. Today was going to be a great day. You could just feel it in your bones.

****

You had just finished putting another batch of cookies in the oven when you heard someone arrive and ring the little bell you kept on the front desk.

“Good evening! I’ll be right there, but go ahead and shut the door if you want!” You holler from the kitchen as you wash your hands.

You’d left the door open just in case they came around while you were putting around the place, but now that they were here you could finally turn on the heater.

You dry your hands and pat down your shirt and pants as you walk, hoping you didn’t look too casual. Jeans and a flowy blue button-up blouse with matching flats seemed casual yet comfortable. And you were wearing your pearls just in case they were the stuffy sort that would look down on you for not looking at least a little professional.

“Hi, welcome to Sanctuary! I’m -”

“Hey, Noona,” a cheeky-toned voice answered as you turned the corner and entered the foyer.

Your eyebrows fly up as you see the tall figure standing there. “Jungkook?”

He looks...fucking glorious. Black pants that look like they are painted on tucked into those stomper boots he seems to love. Plain black t-shirt tucked into his pants and a blue flannel shirt over that. Sitting next to him is a large black backpack that is easily half as big as him.

He grins cockily and leans against the desk. “They gave me a couple of weeks off so I’m here on vacation. Please take care of me,” he bows with mock formality.

“You’re the one that booked the whole place, right?” you ask, bringing up your computer application to check him in. He leans in way too close and looks over your shoulder as you work.

“Yup! One of the managers did the form though. Did he do everything I asked? Up the rate and made sure you feed me?”

You snort, “Yes, Jungkook. They are paying me an astronomical amount and I have plenty of food. Although, I only went shopping for one normal person. You’ll probably go through it all it two days, so make me a list.”

He chuckled lowly and you shivered, feeling his breath on your ear.

“Well, I’m not eating every meal here. I’m going to go out sometimes, too. Maybe noona can show me some nice places?”

You struggle to hold back a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

A shrill beeping started in the kitchen and Jungkook jumped back, looking around curiously.

“Cookies,” you answered the silent question. You finish typing a couple of things in the program than jump up and rush towards the kitchen, amused to notice Jungkook hot on your heels.

You shove your hand in a glove and pull out the pan, your own stomach rumbling a little from the delicious smell of chocolate chip cookies. It probably also didn’t help that in your rush to prepare for your guest you might have forgotten your own meals.

You scoop them onto the wire rack, so focused in the work that you forgot about the other person beside you until his thieving hands begin reaching towards one of the scalding hot cookies. You smack it with the spatula.

“Let it cool,” you order unapologetically, forgetting for a moment he was an actual guest. His sheepish grin assured you that there were no hard feelings. And that he would probably do it again.

“Are you hungry for actual food?”

He nods quickly, helping himself to one of the bar stools at your prep counter.

“Yeah. I ate this morning, but then I had to finish this interview before they’d let me go free. And that means an hour in hair and makeup for five minutes of questions,” he rolls his eyes and props his cheek onto his hand as he watches you.

“Ugh,” you grunt sympathetically. You look around for the menu you’d made for the week and hand it to him. “Look this over, will you? Let me know if there’s anything you don’t like.”

He silently reads your list as you prepare him a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. And maybe you sneak a couple for yourself as well.

Finally, he nods and tosses it over. “It’s good. Maybe add some Korean food if you know how to make any. I noticed there weren’t any restaurants.”

“Yeah, this place isn’t really known for its diverse cuisine. But if you want fifty seafood places, we have you covered.”

He snorts, “Kinda like home.”

You laugh, remembering how many little food carts littered Busan’s beaches.

You place his snack in front of him and he dives in happily, his eyes wide with happiness. You slide into the seat next to him and study him.

“So, Jeon Jungkook. What are your plans for the week? Are you going to stick around the house most of the time or should I maybe find some places for you to visit? I have lots of friends that I can get tickets from.”

He takes a huge gulp of milk and sighs contentedly before he answers. He shrugs, “Mostly around here. This is my time to actually relax. Definitely going to the beach and taking some photos. Other than that, I don’t know.”

“Hmm,” you hum, propping your chin in your hand. “The main attractions out here are all marine-based, so it’s up to you if you want to see any of it or if it’s all just old news to a Busan boy. But we do have the marine sanctuary nearby, there’s whale watching, and I think the butterfly exhibit is still going on. It really depends on how far you’re willing to travel. Monterey has even more things to do.”

He looks almost shy when he glances up at you. “Is it okay if we just stay here tonight?”

Your filthy disgusting mind conjures up all sorts of things hearing a sentence like that coming from Jeon Jungkook’s mouth, but you gulp and hope your voice sounds normal.

“Yup. Of course. It’s your vacation. Most guests don’t even interact this much with me. They just check-in and have meals sent to their room.”

“It’s okay. I like having noona around,” he grins, his eyes crinkling mischievously. Brat.

He looks around suddenly. “Hey, where’s Thor?”

“I usually keep him in my room until I figure out how pet-friendly the guest actually is.”

“You can let him run around, I’m fine,” he grins with excitement and follows behind when you get up and head towards the stairs.

Once you reach the top you can already hear Thor sniffing on the other side. You fling open your bedroom door and let him practically fly towards Jungkook. The man tries to sneak a peek inside before you slam the door shut, not ready to let the international celebrity see your mess.

Instead, you nod towards the room across the hall and gesture with your arm.

“This one is yours.”

He grins softly and walks around peeking at everything, patting the covers of the bed until Thor jumps up. He sits next to him and nods.

“It’s so nice. You did a good job.”

“Thanks,” you grin lopsidedly as you take a quick look around. “I think I did okay too. I’m no interior designer, but I was hoping for homey.”

“It’s relaxing,” he agrees with a nod. “I couldn’t even do this with my own place. I just threw some blankets on the floor and set up my PC. I don’t even think I have proper dishes. I had to eat cereal out of the plastic bag inside,” he giggles.

You shake your head, unsurprised really.

“This TV is pretty big too,” he grunts as he climbs towards the headboard of the bed, then crosses his ankles with a sigh, setting against the plush pillow behind him and playing with the remote. “Do you get all the channels?”

“Yeah,” you nod, standing there awkwardly now as he gets comfortable. You should probably go make dinner now or something, right?

“Oh nice,” he suddenly exclaims exactly, tossing the remote away. “Deadpool is on. Come watch, noona,” he says, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

His eyes are huge and there’s not a single hint on his face that this is a joke. He looks innocent and earnest. Just where was this “shy” Jungkook you’d always heard about?

You shuffle towards the bed and slowly lower yourself onto it, trying your best to avoid actual contact with him. He didn’t seem to approve because he actually scooted closer until his rock hard thigh was pressed right up against yours.

“Get comfortable, noona. I don’t have rabies,” he chuckled, tugging you down a little more until you were sharing a pillow.

Fuck. How was it possible for a man to smell so good, you moaned in your head. Thor - the traitorous bastard - was cuddled in a circle right in between Jungkook’s legs. He looked well on his way to taking a nap.

You focus on the tv, not really watching the movie, and trying instead not to hyperventilate. He was so close and you didn’t know what to do with your hands. You felt like a nervous teenager.

It was probably midway through the movie when you first heard it. A tiny little wheeze. Then, the man next to you felt like he was slipping. You turn and grin when you notice that Jungkook is pretty much out for the count. His head has slipped right onto your shoulder and his mouth is wide open as he sleeps, his nose making a cute little rattle instead of outright snores.

You huff and look around, yawning as the feeling of laying in bed finally begins to catch up with you as well. You hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, so it was understandable. But Jungkook probably didn’t get much sleep on a regular basis, so you’d hate to disturb him now. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to rest your eyes for a little bit. Just until it was time to make dinner.

You give in to the lazy feel of the room and shut your eyes, snuggling into the pillow a little more. You barely noticed when a strong arm flipped you over gently and pulled you closer.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook #noona #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #mxr #sanctuary #solastia

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crayonwriting · 3 years

Text

08 - Why, Why Did I Ever Let You Go

Summary: Maiko just wanted her good ol’ dad to walk her down the aisle. So, she invited the three men from your past in hopes of meeting him. The only problem was, which one of them is it?

Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader, Bokuto Koutarou x Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Disclaimer: This is based on the movie directed by Phyllida Loyd and written by Catherine Johnson which is inspired by the music of the pop group ABBA.

catch up here!

After a few hours of bustling about, you were finally able to set up the tables and a few decorations. You were currently untangling a long cord of fairy lights to test out in the evening. Just as you were about to unravel a small knot, Bokuto appeared out of the blue. You clutched at your chest slightly trying to calm your heart.

"Bokuto."

He chuckled. "Whatever happened to just 'Koutarou'?"

"What are you still doing here?" You returned your attention to the task at hand. The knot that you were trying to unravel earlier seemed to have tangled itself again. With Bokuto's presence nearby, it became difficult to continue. You dropped the fairy lights back in its box, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Here, let me help you with that." Bokuto knelt down on the other side of the box, picking up the knot you were working on. He unconsciously let his tongue peek out of his lips as he concentrated on his work. You took this time to admire him.

Bokuto, like Oikawa, has matured over the years. He seemed to retain his strong physique and his hair was the same length and colour as you remembered. He seemed much calmer than before. He used to shout obnoxiously whenever he wanted to.

"All done." He said with a proud smile. He noticed the way you were looking at him, which made his heart skip a small beat. He coughed into his hand, snapping you out of your small daydream.

"So, Y/N, would you like to go on a walk?" He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He scolded himself for acting like a teenager. But he couldn't help feeling like he is especially when it came to you.

"Why do you want to take a walk with me, Bokuto?"

"Can you please just call me Koutarou again?" He looked straight into your eyes. "And I just wanted to catch up with you. I also want to show you something. Please Y/N-chan." He jutted his bottom lip outward, doing his best attempt at a pout. Unfortunately for you, just like with Olkawa, it worked.

***

You and Bokuto took a small stroll around the village. He conversed with some of the locals, especially the elderly women. They were all fond of Bokuto and seeing him interact with them reminded you of his obaasan, Meiko.

That woman helped you stand on your feet when you found yourself broken and useless when Kuroo had left you. She saw you bumming about on the mainland and had asked what you were doing. You just gave her a vacant stare, proceeding to cry after. She tsked at the state you were in. She then invited you inside the small bar that she owned and made you drink a glass of water. Too numb to form a coherent response, you just did what she said robotically.

After finally explaining to her what had happened, she offered you a job in her bar. With nothing else to do, you agreed. You worked as a waitress and a bartender and then after a few weeks, when her son had dropped by the bar to perform with his band, you became a singer for the bar. Everyone was mesmerized by your voice and you enjoyed singing in front of the crowd—it reminded you of all the good times you had with Yoshiko and Rika.

“Thank you for the fruit!” Bokuto bowed in respect before returning to your side. He took a bite of the apple he had bought from a stall and handed the plastic bag to you. “Do you want some, Y/N?”

You shook your head. “It’s okay, Bokuto.” He grimaced at you still refusing to call him by his first name. “So, you said you wanted to show me something?” This seemed to lift his mood and he then proceeded to lead you to the docks. When you neared the end, you gaped at the beautiful vessel in front of you painted in a clean white color accented by an amazing wood brown. He stretched his arms out wide as he made jazz hands towards the boat.

"Ta-da! Meet my beautiful princess!" Bokuto put his hands on his waist and looked at his boat like a proud father. "My pride and joy." He looked at you, still gaping. "So? What do you think?"

"When you said you had a boat, I didn't think it was this kind of boat! I thought you were referring to, I don’t know, a tugboat or something."

He laughed at your comment. "Now why would I get a tugboat? That’s interesting, though.” His expression then softened a little as he looked at you. “Remember when I told you I wanted to travel the world? What better way to do it then by sailing?” You nodded at the memory, remembering it very clearly.

You've been spending every day then with Bokuto ever since he arrived. He helped out at the bar and has been nothing but sweet and fun to be around with. In that short amount of time together, you had told him about staying and living on the island and he had told you about his dream of travelling the world.

Bokuto also voiced his concern about the rising prices of flights. So, you suggested, albeit jokingly, that he buy a boat which could serve as his accommodation—besides transport—to cut off expenses. He considered the thought and he did just that, a few years later.

“You told me to buy a boat and I did. Best thing to come to my life.” Besides you, he wanted to add.

“It was a joke!”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “Can’t give this back now, can I? And besides, I don’t regret one thing.” That includes you.

“Do you join races as well, like you once told me you would?”

“Hell yeah! I just won one recently. I mean, not to brag.” He puffed out his chest in pride which only made you laugh.

“Let’s take her out for a spin!’ He gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards the boat.

“Eh? But I have to prepare the villa and—”

“Just to that small part of the island over there,” he pointed to the distance, “And I’ll sail you right back. I promise.”

The sun was still high up in the sky, casting its bright rays upon the island. The whole place was bright and beautiful—the aquamarine of the sea, the green leaves of the trees, the faint smell of salt in the air—you could’ve sworn you were living in a postcard or something.

And in the midst of the beauty of Kalokairi, stood in the middle was Bokuto who already had a foot on the small ladder of his boat with his palm open towards you. His golden eyes were gleaming and his smile made something bubble in you that felt warm—almost as warm as the sun’s rays.

You took his hand in yours.

***

"This is amazing!" You held unto the sides of the boat as it seamlessly glided along the waves. Bokuto smiled at your amazed state from his position on the wheel.

Soft music played on his phone in his pocket as he continued to watch you. It seemed like you were in some type of cheesy music video, with the way your hair was flowing in the wind and the orange glow of the sunset seemed to accentuate your features.

Not able to help himself, he gradually slowed the boat down and anchored it in the middle of the sea but still fairly close to the shore. You eyed him curiously as he approached you.

“What are you planning?” You raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

“Nothing, nothing.” He pulled out his phone and changed the song that was currently playing. When the first few notes had played you immediately groaned and slapped a palm to your face. Of course he would pick that song.

"This is my favorite jam!" Bokuto started snapping his fingers and moved his hips to the beat. You covered your face in embarrassment for him. He did the exact same thing all those many years ago.

You were working a night at the bar when the band wanted you to perform a song. This was the song that was chosen that night and Bokuto had sung—and danced—with you. You didn't feel embarrassed then but being reminded of it right now, you realized that it's one of the silliest things you've ever done.

"C'mon Y/N-chan, dance with me!" He grabbed your wrists and swayed you from side to side. He tentatively pulled you closer to him but you didn't notice. Bokuto circled his hips comically making you laugh. “Aww, you danced that night away like there was no tomorrow! Don't be shy, it's just me." He eyed you with a soft look and smile. Bokuto always had the easiest and contagious smile you knew of. You found yourself relaxing a little bit in his hold before you experimentally shimmied your shoulders.

"Now, that's the spirit!" Bokuto moved with you and soon enough you were dancing, albeit ridiculously, and belting to the song's chorus.

The song was only almost five minutes long but it felt like a lifetime to Bokuto. He spent the first two convincing you to dance with him and the other three minutes to actual dance with you. His heart thumped erratically against his chest in both excitement and nervousness.

The way your shoulders would brush against his or when you pressed your back against his chest to recreate that one dance move that night, all of these may mean nothing to you but to him it felt like electricity.

The song had ended with you and Bokuto chest to chest. You were slightly out of breath because of the slight adrenaline but after realizing the almost non-existent distance between your faces, you suddenly found it hard to breathe. Both of you remained quiet, only staring into each other's eyes. Bokuto pulled you in just a tad bit closer.

"Koutarou." You watched his eyes flicker for a moment. Finally hearing his first name tumble out of your mouth made his eyes widen for a moment. You gave him a small smile which you hoped conveyed everything you wanted to say. You searched his eyes and you could see the wheels turning in his head. You giggled softly at the way his eyebrows were slanted as he was deep in thought. You pressed your thumbs against them lightly, smoothing them out.

"I need to get back now." You said.

Not this soon, please. He pleaded inside his head. He looked at you for any signs of hesitation, maybe, but you were determined. Bokuto smiled, a tight-lipped smile before nodding once and going back to his position behind the wheel.

The sun had just set on the horizon when you arrived back. The walk back up the docks was quiet but comfortable. Spending the past hour with Bokuto made you think of what might have been—just like what you thought of when you were with Oikawa earlier. What if it was Bokuto who you ended up with? Would it always be like this, afternoon sailing with some dancing and karaoke? Would he even have his beat in the first place? You shook your head at your silly daydreams.

Just when you neared the end of the docks, you turned to him and stated that you can walk back on your own, emphasizing as well how you knew the island like the back of your hand.

"Thank you for sailing me around on your boat. It was also nice catching up with you." You didn't know what possessed you to do so, but you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek on his shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Koutarou. I'm glad you're still chasing your dreams." You tried pulling away but Bokuto pulled you back to him, placing a hand at the back of your head and one on your back.

"I'm proud of you too, Y/N-chan."

The hug only lasted for a few more seconds before you finally pulled away. You took a few steps back, waving goodbye. Before you were out of reach, he took your hand and kissed the back of it. You flushed lightly and just nodded and walked away.

Bokuto sighed to himself, kicking at the ground. If only he'd return to Kalokairi after that visit with his aunt then maybe, things would've been different between you two.

tags: @yikes-buddy / @ushi-please / @melodiamore / @akaashi-todorki / @honeymoneyy / @minty-mangos-world / @ochabby / @paettonissahotcheeto / @chrisrue15 / @cottage-babe2 / @tsukkx / @yashinosakura / @coconut-dreamz / @roseestuosity / @youstydiaa / @shiningstar-byulxx / @mkkhaikyuu / @waywardtrashfam / @otaku-fangirlse / @juni-multifandom / @voids-universe / @chimsblogg / @1-800-imagine / @awkward-bard /

a/n: eight part, yay! y’all might’ve have noticed how bo’s chapter is longer than oikawa’s. and fluffier too. my explanation’s kinda long, so i just might do that when this series is over. but hey, if you get it then yay!

the song reader-chan and bo danced to should’ve been ‘Why Did It Have to Be Me?’ like in MM2, but the song I had in mind was ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)’ by Whitney Houston.

same warnings as before. this isn’t proof read. i’m sorry. point out any errors or confusing parts to me! my inbox is always open.

only 2 chapters left! i don’t want to say goodbye yet!

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