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dawnedon · 3 months

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"Readings are definitely increasing in this direction. I think we may have a lead." The glowing screen of the device illuminated Oliver's face through the early morning fog. Fellow researchers soon looked up from their own handhelds. Some moved in his direction, confirming the spike in their own readings, and it wasn't long before they began murmuring amongst themselves.

The machinery was Oliver's invention - something that had catapulted him ahead in the scientific world. It was a device to pick up distortional anomalies, that which came from the Distortion World itself. All eyes were on him with this invention, and his blossoming reputation studying Sinnoh's creation legends.

The group had packed light, each bringing a backpack of various items - notebooks, plenty of pens and pencils, cameras, containers for samples - most of them weren't really sure what they were going to do should they make an encounter with the parallel realm; including Oliver. He had brought a camera of his own, which hung comfortably around his neck, finding that visual documentation would be most important to him.

Photographs of the Distortion World were something that didn't exist. Documentation on the subject overall was extremely rare, and only a handful of eyewitness accounts of anomalies existed as far back as record keeping began. Oliver being so close to one of his major goals had his heart racing, and with each step he took at the head of the group, the readings from the radar grew more and more intense.

"We should be upon it in about five meters," he informs, "stick together. The fog shouldn't interfere beyond making it harder to see." Cedar trees flanked either sides of them, the forest of trees holding an eerie silence. There was no wind, no sounds of pokemon - it was dead quiet in Sinnoh's wilderness.

Each step was agonizing its own way as they marched ahead towards the unknown. The temperature, while already cold, had grown even colder now. Somehow, the fog seemed even thicker than before, and the area grew darker and darker - what little light there was seemed to evaporate, almost.

They were upon it now. The device was so frantic, Oliver almost expected it to stop functioning altogether. Midnight eyes peered down at the screen for a moment. "Professor Hara-" the voice of one of his colleagues was all he heard, before a feeling of weightlessness took over. The sudden shift was nauseating, as was the rapidly shifting scene before him. Darkness clouded the edges of his vision, blurring colors, lights, and sounds overwhelming his senses momentarily.

And then, he would land with a hard thud on his back.

Oliver blinked once, then twice, clearing away any lingering blurriness in his vision. A swirling, purple sky was what greeted him first. Then, he'd see large floating platforms overhead, dotting the sky like clouds. Waterfalls flowed not just down, but upwards, sideways, and even diagonal.

He scrambled to sit up, eyes darting in all directions for another second longer, before refocusing on his colleagues. "Is everyone okay?" With various noises of affirmation from the rest of the group, it wasn't long before Oliver pushed himself into a standing position. He moved to help others up, all while taking in the Distortion World.

The gravity of the platform they were on was almost that of earth, if only a bit lighter. He found he could jump in place a little, and hang suspended in the air a fraction longer than normal. Other platforms caught his eye, with some hanging upside down, while others hung sideways. Did gravity function the same on those as well? Did they keep one righted constantly, despite the differing orientations?

He grabbed for his camera, wasting no time in snapping several pictures. Though expensive, he had made sure to purchase one of the largest SD cards on the market. Running out of storage space would have been beyond devastating for the young professor - the only thing worse would have been coming back empty handed overall.

The others were also marveling at the otherworldly sights of the realm. Some went on to take photos of their own, while a few had gone off to the side to take samplings of the plants. Spindly trees, and crystalline flowers that somehow survived in spite of the harsh conditions. There wasn't any sunlight, nor did it seem any precipitation was readily available - and yet, they still grew.

Crystals hung suspended in the air, and Oliver found himself taking photos of those as well. The crystals were something he had knowledge about, thanks to various texts he had pieced together. They were the key back to their own world, showcasing various images of earth. 'One way mirrors' was how he always described it. A way to see into earth from the Distortion World, though there was no way to see here from earth. How lonely had that been for this realms one inhabitant, Giratina, he had always wondered. To continually see the world on the other side, passing by without a care without her. To see how close freedom was, yet being shackled and bound to this world.

There was an undeniable buzz in the group as they continued to document this realm. They talked among themselves, hypotheses and theories already being born in conversation. Oliver continued to take photographs, contemplating descending further into the Distortion World. Before he did so, he would take a moment to look through the dozens of photos he took.

As his thumb moved over the arrows, the images on the screen made his heart sink. They... were blurry? That couldn't be right. Each and every one was blurry - not a single one appeared to be right. Oliver double checked his lens, making sure the dial was properly tuned. It definitely was; he had taken photos out in the field not long ago, and he hadn't touched or messed with anything on this lens. His brows knit together as he lowered the camera slightly, before lifting it to take another picture, this time of the group.

The photo of them was perfectly clear, but the surrounding background of the Distortion World was blurred. Immediately, Oliver made his way over to his colleagues. "This is strange," he has the photos up still to show them, "none of my pictures are coming through. Is there some kind of interference here?" One of the other professors with a camera also checked through their photos, looking as equally as puzzled as Oliver had.

"Mine look the same too," they confirmed, "before we had come out here, I checked my lens and all settings on my camera to make sure it was good. See - I had taken some test photos earlier that were perfect," they cycle back to their older photos, showcasing the cedar forest in the fog - a perfectly clear photograph.

Before Oliver could say anything else, a crashing sound from deep within the Distortion World reverberated upwards. The platform they stood on rumbled, shaking with aftershocks. There was a sudden chill within his heart, ice traveling through his veins. Inexplicably, cold beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

He lifted his hands slightly as they began to shake, and he would soon see that all the hands on his watch were rapidly advancing through the seconds, minutes, and hours. Oliver could feel his mind racing right with his heart. There was another crash - this one was closer. The skies above them, a lighter purple before, were now much, much darker. Calm waterfalls now became rushing torrents, the noise drowning out all other senses. The glowing pools were now dim, and the flowers steadily lost their petals. Mirrored blooms fell to the hard ground, the small tinkling noise nearly lost among the cacophony of the falls.

Giratina was here. And they were not welcome.

"We need to get out of here! Now!" Oliver shouted, eyes darting in panic. The crystals that hung in the air seemed farther than before. He knew they were much closer. Giratina, or the realm itself, was closing off their chances to escape. There was no time to waste as Oliver began to run. Another ear-grating crash erupted from behind them, screeching as one of the larger platforms exploded into a shower of rock and debris.

The roar from the ghostly dragon cut through all other noise in the Distortion World - she was here, and she was enraged.

Those that had pokemon on them were unable to send them out in time. Oliver looked over his shoulder in time to see pointed spikes turning two of his colleagues into nothing more than red mist. Their bags and devices fell to the ground, before the current of Giratina's movement sent them over the edge and to the depths below.

A group of seven, now down to five with such a simple movement.

One of the researchers pace slowed from a sprint, to a jog, then to a walk, and then... to nothing. Their legs simply stopped carrying them forward, eyes wide with fear. Death itself loomed over them soon, overshadowing them entirely. A deep red energy exploded from Giratina without her so much as lifting a tendril, and before anyone could react, the researcher was gone in the blink of an eye. The large platform they were under also disappeared instantaneously - the rest of the team was fortunate to dive to a neighboring landmass before they fell to their deaths.

The power of a goddess was unfathomable and incomprehensible, Oliver was quickly learning. Though his legs were shaking, he still managed to push himself up and scramble ahead. A fear so raw had never pervaded his mind in such a way. He, an ant, was up against infinity. His mouth was dry as screams echoed out behind him. Wet noises of blood and viscera peppering the ground reached his ears. Despite his best judgement telling him otherwise, he still cast a glance over his shoulder.

It was carnage. And now, it was just him left alone with Giratina.

The crystals- The crystals. They were his only way out. He made a frantic beeline to the nearest one he saw, ducking in time to avoid being decapitated by a large, gnarly spike. His desperation made him crawl, fingernails breaking on the ground through the effort he exerted.

It depicted a mountain peak on the other side, with deep blue skies. Somewhere in the wilderness, he assumed, but he should be able to call for help from there. A scream tore through his throat involuntarily as pain shot through his side - one of Giratina's spikes tore through his skin like paper, red beginning to bloom through his lab coat.

"Y̶͔̅ǫ̴̈ü̵͍'̵̰̇r̴͎͂ê̵̯ ̴͕͝n̷̞̾o̴̳͗ţ̵̊ ̴͈̕g̸̱̅o̴̱͋i̴̙̋ǹ̷̼g̵̩̍ ̸͇͝A̷̞̎N̵̤͘Y̵̯͗W̵̖̄H̷͓́Ȇ̵͙R̵̝̆Ë̵ͅ.̴͜͝"

His hand pressed over the wound, blood pooling through his fingers. A whimper of pain left his throat, but the insanity and desperation to leave overshadowed it all. After nearly tripping over his own feet pushing himself up one final time, he took a final leap through the crystal.

Oliver landed hard on the ground once he passed through, crushing his camera and knocking the wind out of himself. He coughed and spluttered, gasping for air as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. Finally, with Oliver regaining his bearings, he would slowly rise to his feet. His wound beat in time with his heart, and he moved his hand back over it to keep pressure applied. Though he was in the wilderness, he should be able to get help still - and he needed to get it fast.

As he reached into his bag for his cellular device, thankful that his belongings survived the encounter, he found himself pausing as he beheld the sky. There... were three suns. Oliver whirled around, and behind them in the sky appeared to be a moon, with a smaller moon orbiting it.

The mountain ahead of him - of which he had only seen the peak of in the crystal - was so large it breached the atmosphere. The rocky crag that made up the range was a deep blue, almost black, color; unlike any mountain range on earth.

There was the tiniest laughs that left him, before he collapsed back onto the ground. Pinpricks of needles washed over his body as realization overcame him.

He had not made it back to earth.

The crystals didn't just show earth like he had assumed - they showed other places in the entire universe. The Distortion World wasn't just a mirror to earth, but to the universe as a whole. The Distortion World could exist without earth, but not without the universe. What a stunning, and shattering knowledge. If only he had realized it before this. If only he could share this discovery with his peers... and with his young daughter, too.

Dawn was always fascinated with his field of study, and the capacity she showed to learn - at least, when the subject interested her - never failed to put a smile on his face. Not just as a scientist, but as a father, too. Seeing how her personality and interests had developed as she grew older was his favorite part of being a parent.

Tears soon filled his eyes as another realization dawned on him. He wouldn't ever be returning home. He had lost his device in the panic earlier, and he was on an unknown planet, an unknown distance from earth. No one was coming for him. No one would know what happened to him. No one would be able to tell his daughter, and his wife, the truth.

Oliver wouldn't get to see Dawn grow up. He wouldn't get to see where her ambition led her, see her chase her dreams, share his research and his knowledge with her.

If he would have known this was the outcome, he would have just let Giratina kill him. It would have been a mercy compared to this - this planet was inhabitable given the presence of oxygen, but there were no signs of life.

He didn't move his hand to wipe the tears. Instead, he laid on his side. Tears dampened the ground beneath him, midnight eyes looking over the towering mountain ahead.

'Dawn... Ayako... What are you two doing right now? Is it morning there? Are you starting your days? Will... Will you notice when I don't come back?' He wondered to himself.

Blood continued to pool out of his wound, and Oliver slowly removed his hand from it. He felt tired - his eyes felt so, so heavy now.

'I'm sorry to you both. I hope these words can reach you, even if you're so far away.'

The three suns slowly set behind the mountain, hiding themselves away. The sky, soon alight and smoldering with all shades of color, was the last thing he would behold.

#👻 headcanon.#👻 oliver hara.#👻 drabble.#death tw #violence tw #blood tw #long post #remember when i said this was a drabble i needed to write. well hello #this is long af btw but it was worth it 🥹 bc now im sad

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reinaazarolla · 1 year

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Is that REINA AZAROLLA? A JUNIOR originally from SEVILLE, SPAIN, they decided to come to Ogden College to study SOCIOLOGY. They’re THE EXCHANGE STUDENT on campus, but even they could get blamed for Greer’s disappearance.

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME → reina maribel azarolla NICKNAMES → rey AGE → 22 BIRTHDAY → april 14, 2001 ZODIAC → aries MAJOR → sociology HOMETOWN → seville, spain GENDER → cis female PRONOUNS → she/her SEXUALITY → lesbian SOCIAL STATUS → elite class LANGUAGES (FLUENT) → english, spanish, portuguese LANGUAGES (LIMITED) → italian, french

APPEARANCE

FACELAIM → melissa collazo HEIGHT → 5'1" EYE COLOR → dark green HAIR COLOR → dark brown TATTOOS → small paper airplane outline on the inside of her right ring finger SCARS → none PIERCINGS → just the ears, two in each lobe and one helix (left ear) STYLE (MAKEUP) → natural, light mainly just a lip color, mascara, and a bit of eye shadow for everyday but loves to do a big bold eye look every now and then and for special occasions STYLE (HAIR) → messy buns at home but usually down and in loose curls when out and about, length is a little past the shoulders SYTLE (CLOTHES) → depends on the season and where she is in the world, generally speaking she sticks to pastels during spring, bright bold colors in the summer, deeper tones in the fall, and muted colors in the winter - she loves sundresses in warm weather and comfy sweaters with jeans or skirts with fleece lined tights in cold weather.

PERSONALITY

+ TRAITS → optimistic, adaptable, curious - TRAITS → impulsive, cunning, aggressive LIKES → traveling, meeting new people, midnight swims, all things related to food, trying new things, late night talks, picnics on the beach, postcards DISLIKES → being told no, being told she can't do something, feeling trapped, delays, velvet, small mindedness HOBBIES → photography, cooking, people watching HABITS → hums when it's too quiet, fidgets with rings she's wearing, arrives at least 10 minutes early to any appointment SMOKES → occasionally DRINKS → yes DRUGS → occasionally

FAMILY INFORMATION

FATHER → donato azarolla, ambassador MOTHER → esmeralda azarolla née rivera, photographer (pretty famous in europe) SIBLINGS → none PETS → none but wants a dog

RELATIONSHIP WITH GREER

Growing up Reina didn’t have many friends, at least not long term ones. She had the gift of making friends and making them fast, but maintaining said friendship was a different story. Until one summer, in her early teens, her family happened to vacation at the Hamptons just a few houses away from the Morrisons. The rest is kind of history, the Azarollas and Morrisons hit it off and they always made it a point to spend time together whether it’s planning a get together if they happen to be close enough for a quick trip or planning something extravagant. There was always an adventure new experiences to be had.

Speaking of new experiences, Reina and Greer share a particularly special one. Reina had known early on that she was attracted to other females and wasn’t exactly shy about it. Did she go around announcing she was a lesbian to everyone she met, no of course not, but she didn’t hide it. If someone asked, she would tell them, it was as simple as that. There was one moment where they were talking about relationships and Reina had mentioned she had never really had one, that it was already hard to find someone to be in a relationship with considering how often her family relocated but to add that it was a girlfriend she would be looking for, forget it. Since that conversation Reina could tell Greer was curious and one night after getting some liquid courage they went further than just discussing what it was like to be with another girl. Reina showed her and in those moments she realized that maybe, just maybe, she had real feelings for Greer.

#ogdenintro

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mongreldyke · 9 months

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ghost quartet asks because. yea. but not actually asks because im answering them anyway

1. Favorite character

probably soldier or roxie!

2. Favorite timeline

THATS SO HARD. soldier rose or the crossover of usher/subway timeline probably

3. Favorite song

Bad Men!

4. Favorite performer?

between gelsey and rose, gelsey can just do this the slightly offputting thing so well

5. Live album or recordrd album?

live. duh.

6. How much of the plot do you think you understand?

I've got it all at this point with my massive brain and the help of @cometzz, though i was never too interested in poe or arabian nights so i think a lot of the references flew over my head

7. Least favorite song/song u skip most often

i don't really have a least favorite but. Maybe tango dancer? which is the only song that isnt entirely to my musical tastes but i ike it still

8. Favorite non-sung/spoken line?

Will you dance with me? ... Okay :/ Do you remember a time before we were just sisters? Do you remember anything else? No. Not yet. But I'm getting there.

9. Favorite lyric

"I love the way you see the world, I love the way your soul sings, I wish that I could sing like you, I wish that I could feel things"

10. Do you have any ships for the show? If so what are they?

SOLDIERROSE HANDSDOWN. a soldier with a death wish and a rose who is scheming. match made in purgatory

11. What's your favorite non-confirmed theory?

erm... i dont actually know many of those. i think the soldier got the pot of honey from killing the bear but idk if that counts?

12. Have you produced any artwork/content for Ghost Quartet?

working on a soldier and rose fic o7

13. Which role would you most like to play?

Gelsey or Brent!

14. Which Usher song is your favorite?

uhhgh thats so hard. i say usher 3 just because. the end

15. The Starchild, Roxie, Rose, or Rose Red?

fuck! roxie, photgrapher!rose, or soldier!rose

16. Subway or the Photograph?

subway hands down

17. Four Friends or Any Kind of Dead Person?

fuck. uh any kind of dead person, only because brittain going "LIIIIOOONNNN" is so me

18. The Gelsey/Brittain dance in Monk or the Dave/Brittain dance in Midnight?

MONK????

19. The Astronomer or The Telescope

the telescope its so good

20. Fathers & Sons, or Lights Out?

Fathers & Sons music wise but lights out makes me so :(((

21. Tango Dancer or Hero?

Hero :]

22. How did you first get into Ghost Quartet

i got @cometzz into mabel and he was like YOUUUUU would like ghost quartet if you like mabel. and he was right

23. When did you first start listening?

literally like two weeks ago? not very long ago the brainrot just gripped me immediately

24. What's your favorite moment (musical or vocal) in the show?

the shrill scream-thing gelsey does in The Photograph

25. Are you going to/have u seen Ghost Quartet?

no :( one day...

26. What's your favorite bizarre connection in the show? (E.g., edgar telling the story of pearl and the pusher in usher pt 3, Shah Zaman becoming the Man In Iran in the Astronomer, etc)

i love shahzaman becoming the ghost seer a lot!

27. What moment would you love to see live/what moment did you love the most live?

I really wanna see usher 3 honestly

28. If you could ask Dave Malloy one question about the show, what would you ask?

i don't actually have any questions, i'm fine with my interpretation o7

29. Have you read either the fall of the house of usher or arabian nights?

nope. might read them at some point though

30. Have you read the show's Genius annotations? If so, what's your favorite annotation by Dave?

that one annotation in Bad Men about how one of the lines rose red screams at the astronomer is something from a breakup he had. i just think it'd be really funny to be the girl who broke up with dave malloy and then got your breakup argument put into a show about cycles and murdering your cheating boyfriend

31. What part of the show disturbs you the most?

im used to a lot more disturbing stuff i didn't really get offput or anything

32. What part of the show confuses you the most?

not too much a this point! even the esoteric or obscure parts i'm like. okay with? i'm fine with it being vague and weird

#ghost quartet #kace #cause i mentioned him

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xtrablak674 · 6 months

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Introspection in Self Portraiture

Before the selfie there was the self portrait, primarily in paintings, and with the creation of the camera you would find the photographer would turn their lenses on themselves. Albeit the art world took longer to accept this as an art form, it is. I don't think its necessarily self-serving to want to capture one's image no matter the medium, I believe there is a deeper exploration that happens through capturing one's self.

For me self portraiture has been as natural as breathing, and has been my personal biography, the holder of memories of my selves from the past and a tool for battling my mental demons.

Body dysmorphic disorder is a type of obsessive-compulsive disorder. An individual with body dysmorphic disorder is overly preoccupied with what are perceived as gross imperfections in their appearance.

In reality, the imperfections are imagined or only slight and barely noticed by others, if at all. The affected person may be obsessed with certain body parts, particularly related to their face or head, or with their weight or body shape.

But is this totally made-up? In a society that values certain kinds of bodies over others, a texture and color of hair over another kind, colors of skin and body shapes more than alternative ones. Is not fitting these socially constructed norms in itself a self-fulfilling body image trap?

Most children aren't born with issues, I believe those issues develop based on their environment, upbringing and socialization. Comments were made about my appearance since I was in elementary school. I was called dark, which equated with not being attractive, but even as a child I had cognitive dissonance with what was being said in the school yard versus the way adults reacted to me.

Adults found beauty in me, from my long eyelashes to my round cheeks and face, and my quick wit. Yes I realize my sense of humor isn't something physical, but I am sure that the snickers at the things that I said, indicated to me that the adults around me enjoyed my company. But my peers seemed to think my appearance didn't meet muster, I was lacking something that was important in being recognized as traditionally attractive.

My mom inadvertently used words that by no true ill intention on her part were scarring, talking about her children's wide feet and husky bodies. Albeit she never actually used the word 'fat' I did think that there was something unacceptable or non-standard in my appearance, something that required special inventory or custom sizes that were stored in the back of the store. There was something wrong with the way that I looked.

Looking through photos of myself at this age my brain had a hard time not seeing the overweight kid that I thought I was, I was surprised to see I was average-sized for this age, not too skinny and totally not fat. Also my complexion was average, darker than my siblings but not the midnight colors of folks bought up under an African sun. I was an average African-American child with comparable complexions to my peers. #NothingToSeeHereFolks

I am not really sure what bought me to turn the camera to myself when I got my first digital in the early aughts, but I think something subconsciously needed to resolve the exterior messages with the interior dialogues. Capturing myself in different lighting situations and moods, began to map out the breadth of appearance and the fact that I wasn't as bad-looking as I had always thought.

Some folks find it hard to believe that I didn't think of myself as attractive until I got to college because of the overwhelming interest I seemed to garner at this Northeastern private university. I was getting affirmed in a way that was foreign to me, other than either overly aggressive folks or others who were to shy to express their feelings towards me.

I found a comfort behind the camera, not necessarily capturing images that were aesthetically pleasing, but images that created the impression that my rich internal life could actually be expressed to the outside world.

With the advent of dating and hook-up sites this always left me wondering what kind of images of myself should I present to the world. Do I show folks the images that accurately portray my emotional life, or do I attempt to mask that with something that comes across as more traditionally appealing? To date I can never find that right balance, which may be why I am still single. #🤷🏿‍♂️

It was a natural extension to expand the field in which I was capturing from shoulders and face to the rest of my body which I struggled to accept all throughout my adult life. The kids are calling it intimate photography, and this rings true for me. Its not overtly sexual, its just capturing the nude form, not in a come-hither way, but in a baring of the soul a exploration of faults, scars and form. An examination of the other parts of myself that I struggle with, my boxy hips, my thick thighs, my under-developed chest, upper-body musculature or lack thereof, the very female energy that is more readily apparent when shooting myself from the rear.

Even today I will look at photos of myself and be pleasantly surprised that I appear more fit than I thought I was even at this later place in my life. I acknowledge that my stomach doesn't look as bad as it feels inside my head. That albeit diminutive my upper body is slim, smooth and subtly toned. I think its a cross we all have to bare as we try to come to resolutions about how we look, what society thinks is the most aesthetically pleasing form and how this effects our self-worth.

No matter which platform I am on where I post my work, my model Toby always gets the most attention, Darin a little less with his not as developed form (meaning not as muscle-bound) and 'A' always gets the freaks, the folks with the fetishes who love a lady-boy or may read the subtext I always saw in them, that they were gender non-conforming, like myself and eventually transitioned to a trans woman.

My primary intimate photography is of myself, and by far way less accepted than the people of European descent that I have captured. Albeit sometimes technically superior, it seems white-skin will always win over my darker hues, but this doesn't prevent me from continuing to explore, comprehend and celebrate the beauty that has always been inside and outside of me.

[Photos by Brown Estate]

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abittersweetthing · 1 year

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Your 3 questions, should you choose to answer them...

Do you have a series (books, movies, TV, comic books, whatever) that you would chuck rocks at were it not for that one beloved character? (And if so, who are they?)

2. Do you have a favorite sculptor or painter or photographer? (Who are they? Or, alternately, do you have an artist you LOATHE with the fury of a thousand suns?)

3. I couldn't think of a normal last question so anyway here's my panic-button ice-breaker :

You and I are sitting at the back of a cafe off a crowded street. At the table nearest the door, someone comes down with the first case of zombification and starts attacking the neighboring tables. Everyone in the cafe is, understandably, not jazzed about this.

What do you do?

Unfortunately, since I am answering this past midnight, my response is long and pretty rambling. Please find it under the cut if you still feel like reading it, lmao.

1 - I can't think of any off the top of my head, maybe because I generally won't (continue to) read/watch a series if there aren't at least 2 or 3 characters I like? If something makes me too mad I usually don't take very long to drop it.

The only work I can think of in which I only particularly liked 1 character is Georgette Heyer's The Grand Sophy, where Sophy herself was pretty grand, and very funny, but almost every single other character was vaguely irritating. (And none more annoying than the voice of Heyer when that came through, which was often, and consistently snotty. Like, imagine the WASPiest grandma you've ever met, and multiply by 1000. There must have been fewer than 10 people alive in her lifetime that Heyer actually held no prejudice toward, all of whom (I assume) were born and lived in a few select areas of southeastern England and hailed from families whose noble titles had been in existence for at least several hundred years, et cetera, et cetera. Even if you leave out the anti-Semitic rant that was so bad it was absent in some editions even in the mid-20th century, the author has Things To Say even about other European nobility - except the French, who were presumably on thin ice - and I'm not even sure she approved of other women. Seriously, the heroine is purportedly friends with other young ladies, but never has actual written dialogue with them unless she's talking wayward teenagers out of undoubtedly ill-fated love matches with poetry-inclined fourth sons, and she will seek advice/help/counsel/idle conversation from literally any gentleman she meets in the park before she'll take it to her, uh, friends.) *cough* anyway...

2 - Well I definitely can't think of any artist whose work I really hate! and I don't think I really ever would unless it was actually harmful in some way. I'm also so unfamiliar with sculptors and photographers that I'd be hard-pressed to name more than like 2 of each (though I definitely still appreciate both, and I think sculpture especially is so cool!)

If I had to pick a favorite painter it would be van Gogh, which I know is kind of a cop-out, sorry. I don't think I really have a favorite so much as I like bright colors and light/shadow, and I tend to prefer paintings that are recognizable as ~something,~ if not realistic, rather than more abstract stuff. Basically my tastes are pretty basic lmao

3 - Realistically? Probably pull the old octopus panic reaction by freezing/retreating and staring for a good long while before piecing together any kind of action plan. But given the time to strategize from the safety of my cozy blankets, I will say: Pick a couple decently heavy adults around me, convince them to help me gang up on & pin down the zombie (as far as I know zombification does not endow enhanced strength, right??), probably facedown to avoid any biting or however that works. Maybe like 1 adult to pin down each limb. Try to get 1 or 2 others (from the crowd I assume is swiftly evacuating) to be the assigned emergency line-caller and Zombie Neutralization googler/wikihow user. Lastly, once the zombie is no longer a threat, try to snag some chocolatey treats from behind the counter while people are distracted since I've a) earned it and b) will most likely die soon in the zombie apocalypse. Assuming that you haven't yet abandoned me to my fate, I will even share 1 of them with you :D

#asks #lmao thank u that last one was fun <3

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lindsaystravelblogs1 · 1 year

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Day 9, Saturday, 24 December

***** Christmas Eve – Happy Christmas everyone! *****

The Lemaire Channel was truly spectacular last night. Not everyone stayed up for it, but I guess about half the passengers were up and watching our passage down the Channel. Heather went to bed but left the curtains wide open so she could see most of it from the starboard side and when the ship turned and retraced its route, she saw what was previously on the port side. I was very tired but I stayed up and went up to the Observation Deck and watched. It was bitterly cold outside on the deck, so I went in and out many times, alternating cold and comfort and taking lots of photos.

Lemaire Channel at midnight. Approaching the narrows beyond which we hung a U-turn and retraced our route.

The landscape was so dramatic, higher and steeper mountains than we have seen before (and that says a lot!) with mountains of snow everywhere. There was a lot of ice, from brash to hundred metre long icebergs and because of the hour, the light was fascinating. At midnight, it was still light enough to photograph, but everything was a little surreal in the semi-gloom. Despite my fatigue, I was glad I stayed up because the mountains and the ice were quite majestic and seeing it all around midnight was really something very special.

We were allowed to sleep a bit later in the morning, but we were actually up earlier than usual for some reason. We did a few puzzles in bed and then got up and went down for breakfast.

We had another ‘continental’ landing during the morning, likely our last for the trip because the rest are likely to be on islands rather than mainland Antarctica. Heather stayed on the zodiac when I went ashore and she went on a cruise while I climbed and walked the long loop track they had prepared for us. I say ‘prepared’ but it was really just setting up some flags to show people the route and in the course of doing that, some of the ice along the track was compacted a bit. The more people who walked the loop (or various diversions from it) the more compacted and defined the path became, but it was still pretty hard going and I was often knee- or thigh-deep in crackling snow, even when relying on my hiking stick to keep me upright and on the safe path.

I went back to where more of our zodiacs were landing and I climbed aboard one with a few others and we went on a long zodiac cruise. We went a long way up Fournier Bay to where there were some amazing icebergs – they were really high and one in particular was like a cathedral with entrances and columns and all sorts of filigreed ornamentation, much of it in many shades of blue. We saw a few seals, some birds and lots of penguins (all of which were also birds) – both Gentoos, but mainly Chinstraps. It was pretty cold out there and the weather was deteriorating after a reasonably comfortable sunny morning so we went back to the ship to warm up.

Ice cathedral - front and back of the iceberg.

Warming up was great, but then they called anyone who wanted to do the Polar Plunge to come down and freeze to death. We put on our plunging bathers and a robe (one each really!) and went down to the staging area where we had to stand around for a while until all the idiot plungers were there and they could start their absurd safety briefing. We all had to stand on the freezing aluminium floor that hurt my feet because it was coated with sharp non-slip material, giving it a very rough surface. It was very painful, but the cold was worse, with our feet and ankles almost freezing as the cold crept up our legs – or, more technically, our body warmth was sucked into the floor.

Heather and I plunged together and for some reason, it seemed more bitter than when we did it in the Arctic. (They said the thermometer read 4 degrees, but they also said they had used it elsewhere and were sure that it was faulty. They think it was probably about 1 degree, the same as for our Arctic plunge.) At least, we can now say we have plunged at both ends of the earth – sort of pole to pole. Jumping into the water was not hard, but there is this all-over clamp that seems to grab you the moment you submerge, and you then have to swim to the pontoon and climb out into the frigid air. There are two guys to help you but I couldn’t hoick myself up far enough to grab their hands for a while and I knew Heather was desperate to get out behind me too so there was a frantic minute until I could haul on one of the ropes to get out. Heather also had trouble and hurt her ribs quite badly on the edge of the pontoon before reaching safe ground. We were wrapped in big towels as we left the pontoon and were given a generous shot of vodka on our way back to the ship proper.

We then raced back to our cabin and took long hot showers before going down to lunch.

Late in the afternoon, we made another landing at Hydrega Rocks. (Hydrega is the Latin/scientific name for Leopard Seal – a creature that has never been seen there according to our Expedition Leader.) Heather decided to stay on board, but I decided to brave it and went out again. We had a bit of light rain earlier in the afternoon but that had stopped during lunch although it was still a bit windy and the sea was quite choppy. Alas, as soon as we got into the zodiacs, everything changed. Almost instantly, there was sleet and snow, and a lot of it too. The snow was much heavier than anything I had seen before although, admittedly, I don’t have a lot of experience to compare it with. I probably looked like the Abdominal Snowman (or his cousin) by the time our long zodiac ride to the shore was completed. Maybe practising for a Santa audition, covered in snow that soon turned to ice. Despite the appalling conditions, it was an interesting excursion. It was basically a short trek across the island with Chinstrap Penguins all around us. They were mainly on the surrounding rocks while we trudged along a snow path between the ridges. They are very cute birds and probably my favourite penguins. There were also numerous blue-eyed Antarctic Shags, Brown Skuas and Kelp Gulls that we hadn’t seen since Ushuaia. But the birds that fascinated me most were the Snowy Sheathbills. There were lots of them around, not at all afraid of us, looking like overgrown white chooks, flying around or scratching out holes in the snow, or just sitting on the rocks watching us watching them.

On the other side of the island, there was a long inlet and we saw a few seals swimming around or just wallowing in the shallow water. This one simply looked too smug for words in my opinion - so here is a thousand of them.

The conditions were really miserable and I was getting quite wet from the snow so I took a few photos and trekked back across the island to the zodiacs and returned to the ship where I hung everything out to dry and tried to dry off my camera and binoculars. Amazingly, everything seemed to dry overnight and hopefully no damage has been done – except for me (more on that tomorrow).

Once I changed into warm dry clothes (I changed back into a person later that day!), we went up to the bar for cocktails and nibbles before a very brief briefing and dinner. It was supposed to be a barbecue out on deck, but with the bitter wind howling and the rain lashing down, that got cancelled and we had a ‘pretend barbecue’ – a more or less normal meal in the dining area. After dinner, we returned to the bar where a bunch of crew members were distributing gluhwein and singing seriously offkey Christmas carols. We didn’t stay long and retired to bed to read until we fell asleep, exhausted but well satisfied with our day.

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isbergillustration · 3 years

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Updated

#painting #artists on tumblr #acrylic painting #portrait #snake #my art #unclear whether finished yet so #wip #3?#really hard to photograph in midnight lighting

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imissthembutitwasntadisaster · 3 years

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Types of people: random disciplines edition

Anthropology: watchful eyes, up for anything, “hey did you know...”, talks about running away a lot, new book smell, libraries, obscure tea, portable speakers, secretly introverted, good listeners, people watching in the early afternoon, audio dramas, fresh pastries, questioning authority, steady shoulders, can never fall asleep immediately, can’t dance but loves doing it, tells the best stories, unable to hide their emotions, quick tongue, knows never to leave people lonely.

Psychology: quiet courage, open heart, over-analysing, midnight with all the lights on, potted plants they somehow manage to keep alive, loves the cold, bright hard colours, could be wicked but chooses not to, 2000s detective shows, photographs pinned to the walls, stage magic, loud heels, knows their limits, will never tell anyone what they are, Korean food, city lover, pointy elbows, soft arms, healthy smooties, secretly a Romantic.

Linguistics: long conversations, warm fires, un-self conscious, Lord of the Rings enthusiast, autumn supporter, travels a lot, loves a good romcom, can swear very effectively, pottery, epics and sagas, binge watching tv, sweet and savoury pies, won’t stop talking, believes we’ll be ok, smiles when they see yellow, long capes, hidey-holes, sleeping in a cold room under a warm blanket, totally random taste in books.

Philosophy: actually runs away, is impossible to get in contact with, knows all the best restaurants and museums, phones you at three in the morning with an Adventure, somehow not insufferable, isn’t afraid of ghosts, laughs a lot, would die for siblings would also kill siblings depending, loves Christmas, sporadically artistic, best hypeman, thinks about things too hard and starts staring into the middle distance, if you come to town will always welcome you with open arms.

Theology: a comfort, dependable, flaming swords or at least a sword, strong opinions, climbing mountains, kind is not weak, strong coffee, unfazed by monsters, flowers at the window, would shield you with their body were you their love interest in a show, stays up too late, tries to follow a routine, gives good advice they themselves don’t follow, doesn’t really understand a lot of new memes, loves all the seasons, extends hands even when they don’t have to.

Biomed: hair scraped back into a bun that somehow looks amazing, to-do lists, leftovers in the fridge, always messy, 90s music, smart but dumb, video calling friends, arriving just on time, road trips, going to the movies, post-it notes, pastel colours or neon, no inbetween, loves Spring, wishes they could fly, will take the train whenever possible to get anywhere, can’t sit normally, did All the clubs as a kid, never treats you like you’re stupid.

Ancient History: thick socks, vintage clothes, buys flowers for themselves, terrible gossip but with no malice, treats historical figures like old friends, castles, stargazing, swapping stories, eating fish and chips on the cold beach looking at the sea, obscure languages, lots of bubble bath, slow wide laugh, old town weekend trips, constantly in touch with their family, the best hugger, classic romance literature, heater alway on, can turn any room into a home.

#tag games #types of people #I always love these!#so I thought I'd make one myself

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jiminzfilter · 3 years

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slow dancing in the night

→ Pairing. Taehyung x reader

→ Genre. established relationship, fluff, slice of life, model!taehyung, model!reader, taehyung missed you a lot, he is starving (his words not mine), gets a bit hot by the last 40 lines, mentions of oral (f) so I guess this counts as mature content, implied smut, making out (kinda), there is a bit of swearing

→ Summary. what could possibly be better than coming home after a long day of work to someone you love and missed a lot ?

→ Word count. 3.2k (!!!)

→ because I wrote this over a year ago when I still didn't know what I was doing with my writing, I had to go through a deep process of editing and re-writing before posting it. This might not be my best work but it's still a fic that I really really like :,)

→ song rec. slow dancing in the dark, Joji// still with you, Jungkook

Fridays have always been exhausting days for both you and your boyfriend, especially on runways weeks. As models, you were put under a lot of pressure.

Pressure to be perfect, to smile but never smile too much, to look good, to not fall on stage.

Falling has to be the most tragic thing that can happen to your carreer as a model, the hungry stares of thousands of photographers and reporters ready to share the latest news to the press.

Yeah, it was exhausting.

This week was no exception... or maybe it was since, this time, you were the only one working until late.

It’s four in the morning and you’re already on your way out - kind of running late, oBviOusLy - quietly wishing your boyfriend a good day.

He is not working today.

That lucky bastard.

He gets to enjoy his free day in bed, lazing around, while you work your ass off all day. He mumbles something that you assume is a sort of goodbye. He is still asleep.

You look at him one last time before leaving the room and smile. He looks so peaceful.

You still remember the day you met, by pure luck even though you both call that fate. That was 5 years ago, when you just debuted your career as a model and were not that comfortable around high heels.

Okay no. Let’s be real.

You hated wearing them because you couldn’t walk in heels higher than 5 cm.

It’s still a wonder how you managed to make it in the first place.

Were you wearing flat shoes for the audition ? Damn you really must’ve done an impression on the judges if they made you pass without the heels try-on.

Your first day at the agency was chaotic to say the least. Your manager made you walk around the building, to visit she said. She made you wear heels. HEELS. That devilish person.

But, thank to that, you got to meet Taehyung. Your eyes landed on him as you were visiting the lounge and couldn’t tear them away from his figure. The poor man had to witness you fall down because you weren’t watching your steps anymore.

I mean.

Who could blame you ??

That was Kim frEaking Taehyung

!!!

He even came to help you get back on your feet and asked if you were alright, kind of amused.

It’s not everyday you see someone falling down in here, let alone a newbie

Let’s be honest, you were so embarrassed.

First day of work and you’re already failing falling.

That night when you came home, you spent the night wearing heels and prayed really hard you’d never have to face him again. After all, the building was big enough and there were enough workers that you could avoid Taehyung easily

If only

The NeXt day, you were told that you had a couple shooting, with none other that Kim Taehyung.

GreaT

He would occasionally tease you about your fall and check on you to see if everything was alright. He watched you carefully as you were walking around with heels.

From up close he looked even more handsome.... :)

After this day, you started talking with Taehyung more and more. He introduced you to everyone around the agency. You met outside of work, got to know each other. You both became regally good friends but there was something lingering in the air, in the way you’d look at each other or stood so close to him after a couple glasses of wine that you could breathe his air.

So what was bound to happen happened and you went from friends a to lovers without really noticing it.

He was still your best friend...somehow

Eventually, you took things to the next level and moved in together... maybe a half and a year ago or so ? You’ve never been happier in your life

And, well, you’d actually be happier if you could spend the day with boyfriend instead of running around trying to find god knows which accessories you need for the rehearsal.

8 in the morning is noT a time to be doing cardio.

Especially while wearing heels

Become a model they said, it’ll be fun they said

“Y/n! Come here please I need you to try on this dress before you go!” Your personal stylist calls “I made sure to fix it yesterday so it’d be a perfect fit for the show”

You stop your tracks and go to her “make this quick i have to go get changed before 9 otherwise I’m screwed. Why did they even decide to do the rehearsals so early today ?” You sigh, frustrated, and put on the dress she’s handing you “thank you”

“Okayyy...it looks great. Gold looks amazing on you.” She smoothes the dress and gives an approving nod, visibly satisfied ; “You’ll look perfect for the Grand Finale. Oh god it’s already 8:30 you better go before Mr.Kim throws a fit because you’re late”

You both giggle ; “thank you for fixing the dress Naeun, see you later today. Well, probably tonight. Byeeee”

The rehearsal seems to never end. You’re squeezed in dozens of different outfits, gorgeous for sure but sO tight. Mr. Kim, the one who organised the runway, is such a perfectionist that you have to re-do some things multiple times before he’s satisfied. One time the lighting isn’t right, the other the models are walking too fast, not on beat and so on.

Everyone hates him for that but he always makes the best shows so you just follow.

After multiple tries, the rehearsal finally comes to an end. It’s already 4PM. You barely get time to breathe and go pee before you’re back into the ‘running-around-to-find-my-dress-and-fix-my-makeup-oh-god-i-gotta-be-on-stage’ crazy mess.

Walking on the runway feels amazing, running backstage is terrible.

It’s so hot and small back there you can hardly move around well.

It takes 2 hours for the whole fashion show to be over, one more for pictures outside the catwalk and chat with reporters. Since you’re kind of a famous model now, you get invited to the afterparty and spend few extra hours interacting with some celebrities that attended the show. Other models were invited and you’re happy to see familiar faces amongst them. Jimin, an old colleague and friend of yours, comes your way and compliments you. You chat with him for a while before deciding you’ve had enough for the day and leave the party. A few more people greet you on your way out.

A taxi takes you back to you company, where you left your stuff in the morning. You spend an extra thirty minutes getting rid of your heavy makeup and striping off that gorgeous but awfully tight golden dress you’ve been wearing ever since the end of the runway.

Now, you can FinaLLy go home. yassssss

It’s almost 12am when you leave the agency and climb into yet another taxi. The ride is quiet, background music playing over the car’s radio, and you take some time to look at what you were gifted for your performance : fancy makeup products, accessories, pieces of clothing-but not those from the runway, you sadly never get to keep those. Being kinda famous has its perks :,)

You then decide it’s time to warn Taehyung you’ll arrive soon and send him a few texts. As if he was waiting for them, he instantly replies saying he’ll be waiting for you and proceeds to spam you with heart emojis. Sometimes, it looks like this man just discovered what emojis were and is trying to use them as much as possible. What a child…

It’s way past midnight when you finally step into your duplex and the first thing you notice is that the place is way too quiet.

Maybe Tae went back to sleep, who knows, it’s super late after all…

You remove shoes and jacket and drop your bags in the entrance before going further and you call out quietly “anyone here? Tae, you sleeping?”

There is a faint glow from the tv on your right but the sound has been muted.

Weird…

“Taehyung ?" You call one last time

Suddenly, two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist and you’re pulled into someone’s chest. You gasp, almost scream, but soften up when you feel the warmth on your back

“Hi baby” a deep voice says in your ear, sending chills down your spine “I missed you”

You turn around and are very pleased to see a handsome face and a warm exposed chest your boyfriend smiling at you.

“Mhm, missed you too” You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest, happy to hear his heartbeat. Taehyung places his head atop of yours and gently strokes your hair. You tighten your grasp around him and hum.

Few seconds later, he lifts your chin up and gently lays a kiss on your lips.

“How are you doing?” He asks, his right hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of it is comforting.

“Exhausted, but you know how it goes” You shrug and he smiles

“Not too tired for dinner ? I could cook something if you want”

“Mhm... let me just go shower and put something else on” You sadly let go of him

“Sure, go ahead” he whispers and you give him a kiss before regretfully tearing yourself away from him.

You walk up the stairs to your bedroom, where you find the bed undone. You smile, Taehyung never really liked making the bed and, very honestly, neither did you. You slump onto the mattress and bury your face into the pillows, inhaling his scent. Lavender. Relaxing. Just like he is.

After a warm shower, you find a t-shirt Taehyung left on a chair in the room and wear it. It’s big enough to reach your thighs and, if you were more energised, you’d probably stay like this. You grab large pants and put them on.

Once again, you smell lavender all around you.

When you’re back in the living area, you see Taehyung busying himself in the kitchen. He hears your steps and his eyes find yours as a smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re wearing his shirt

“My shirt looks better on you than it’d ever do on me” He teases, his gaze longing on your frame.

“maybe I should keep it then” you smile and ask ; ”Do you need any help?”

“no no no no no, you’ve worked enough already. Go and have some rest. I'll call you when everything’s ready okay?”

Too tired to argue on this anyways -and thankful for the given rest-, you go lay down on the couch, your body oriented to let you look at Taehyung.

As he hums and moves to the chill music that was playing in the background, you start to detail his beautiful figure. From the curl of his dark hair (which you knoW are so so soft to the touch) to his beautiful profile and his nose you love so much down to his broad shoulder and then his tanned abs you see from time to time when the opened shirt of his pyjama moves according to his steps.

oH! Let’s not forget his perfect hands gripping at the pan’s handle while he cooks… vegetables? Something like that yeah.

Taehyung is giving his best into what he’s cooking. Vegetables with rice, that’s the only thing he could do quickly.

Quickly as in less than half an hour, unlike his friend Namjoon who’d take this time just to cook the rice.

The music he put earlier is slowly starting to bore him. After washing his hands, he reaches out for his phone and plays a different playlist. It’s one you name yourself when the two of you were still friends (aka not dating yet). “Taetae fm” because you once joked he should have his own broadcasting channel on the radio. He’d always criticise the music playing so why not have his own channel 👀

“You know Y/n, I actually watched the fashion show live this afternoon. I mean, of course you know because I always do that haha. Anyways, you really were the highlight of the runway tonight. And I’m not saying this in a biased point of view. Okay I might be a bit biased as your boyfriend but I swear that it’s true!! You literally shone back there, especially in that gold dress you were wearing and even the audience was impressed by your looks maybe you didn’t see it on stage but some cameras filmed their reactions and everyone was looking at you. Really, you were so gorge-oh” Taehyung looks at you and smile fondly “Of course you’re asleep, baby”

He lets his phone aside and checks the now cooked food before making his way to the couch. There’s a blanket on the sofa, he covers you with it, scared you might get cold. Taehyung put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your chin.

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself face to face with him. You both smile.

“Hi there beautiful” He whispers

“what time is it? Did I sleep until the morning?” You’re scared of having slept through the entire nap without realising

“almost 1:20am, I just finished cooking. I thought you might be cold so I went to cover you with the blanket. You should go enjoy the food while it’s still hot, imma go to the toilet”

You nod as an answer and watch him leave upstairs. Getting up from the warmth of the couch is the hardest part so you keep the soft blanket draped around your shoulders and walk towards the kitchen. You grab two bowls and two pairs of chopsticks that you place on the counter along with glasses and a bottle of water.

You then go take care of the rice and the vegetables, which you mix in the pan. The song playing changes and your favourite nighttime tune starts.

“I don’t want a friend, I want my life in two” you sing along

“Waiting to get there, waiting for you” Taehyung’s voice startles you as he grabs your wrists and pulls your back close to him. You smile as he makes the both of you dance slowly. You put his arms around you so it’s like he’s hugging you from the back. You swing around for a little while, enjoying the close proximity as you both softly hum the song, making your body vibrate against each other, moving in perfect coordination.

“I love you” he whispers in your ear and then kisses it, sending chills down your spine, before lifting one of your arm up to make you turn so that you’re now facing him “did my baby sleep well?” You nod as you place your arms around his waist, paying attention to go under the shirt so you’re touching as much skin as possible.

Taehyung chuckles before asking you in that same, chill-sending, low deep voice ; “Still hungry? Because I’m starving”

If you didn’t just wake up, you would’ve definitely caught that lust in his eyes and also the fact that this wasn’t as innocent as it seemed.

As an answer, your stomach growls pretty loudly, making Taehyung laugh . “I’ll take that as a yes. Sit down, princess. Let me take care of you”

You do as he says, jumping on a stool, detailing all of his moves. You only realise how hungry you actually were when you start eating. Rice with vegetables has never tastes better. You eat everything in less than 5 minutes when you’d usually take your time to finish your plate.

“Damn, that was a well needed dinner! Thank you Tae” you mess a bit with his soft locks

“Imagine me who was waiting for you all evening!! I was hungry too” He pouts.

“Oh come on, I was working today. Cardio in heels isn’t the best way to wake up, let alone spend the whole day standing in tight clothes. When I think you has a day off… pfff. I saw the bed, I’m sure you stayed there all day, you lazyyyyyyyyy ass.”

He mumbles some gibberish and you giggle, knowing that you're right. He looks away, crossing his arms and obviously sulking. You leave your stool and stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a few kisses on his cheek and neck

“- Don’t be such a babyy. You know I love you.

- You do?

- of course, you dummy” you bop his nose "Sooo, what do we have for desert?

- You. Uh I mean!! Yoghurt, fruits, cakes, fruits…anything” he clears his throat

“Great! What do you prefer?” You open the fridge

“ I’d very happily eat you out honestly but an apple sounds good”

“Oh sur- wait whaT!?” You snap your head to him, eyes wide open

what did he sayyyyyyyy?????

whaT am I even supposed to say noW oh my goddddd

You close the fridge’s door, suddenly not so yogurt-hungry.

There’s a sudden silence between the two of you, only disturbed by the music still playing in the background.

“Mhm? What is it?” He turns around to face you, asking so innocently “did I say something wrong ?”

This man knows what he is doing for sure. Has he ever been that straightforward before ?

Taehyung stands and closes the distance between your bodies, now towering over you.

He lowers himself slightly to speak in your ear “what is it baby? Mhm?” You feel his smile on your cheek when he lays a kiss on it “what happened to my all proud and fierce y/n who was so confident telling me I was being lazy all day, huh? Tell me” He lays another kiss on your temple

OkaY

now he’s being a tease

Great

1 A.M. fluffy and bare chested teaser Taehyung

gReAT

Anyhow, it’s a good turn on.

Really.good.freaking.turn.on

Being tired and turned on was definitely not a good mix for you. You could feel the heat rising in your body and hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Tae…”

He laughs gently seeing you silently begging for more, brushing your face with his lips, teasing another kiss.

“Tsk tsk, you gotta speak darling, I cannot guess”

You should calm down and go to sleep, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow you should definitely-

“Fuck-“ You sigh and grab his face, sealing your lips together while closing your eyes.

It doesn’t take long for that kiss to turn into a heated make out session.

You grab and pull some of his dark curls while his hands travels under his your shirt.

You break the kiss just a second to catch your breath.

“Have i ever told you you have the perfect body?” Taehyung asks

“Did I ever tell you how perfect you are??” You reply

He laughs, deep raspy laugh.

You’re too tired for this

And because you’re tired, you’re even more horny :D

Taehyung puts his hands behind your thighs and you jump, locking your legs around his waist, hands still in his hair, lips against his while carries you to the bedroom.

He leaves your lips to travel down your jaw and then collarbone. You throw your head back.

Taehyung gently lays you on the mattress of your king sized bed and makes it his personal mission to pleasure you tonight.

#taehyung fics #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung au #taehyung fluff #bts fanfic #taehyung #taehyung ff #fluff #implied smut #model taehyung #bts fics #taehyung oneshot #taehyung one shots #taehyung one-shots #taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung au #it's 2am what am I doing #slow dancing in the night

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ethan-torchio-angelo · 3 years

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Oh, love

Summary: It takes a year of trial and error, of love and heartbreak, for the two to finally realize there's no one else they'd rather be with. Or in which she becomes they're photographer for a summer tour and falls in love with the dark haired drummer.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: swearing, angst, sexual content

A/N: I just want to say a huge thank you to @ethanesimp for proofreading and hyping this fic up, thank you so much amore! This is the first piece I've written for any of the members of maneskin, and also the longest thing I've ever written! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

January

It’s a call in the middle of the day that begins it all. She’s been in a shoot all morning, running around snapping photos of a wanna-be teen idol. She’s been here many times, being hired to do promo shots for someone who never makes it farther than this. But this call, she knows it’s different. She’s heard the name, seen some videos, she knows this won’t be like the rest. She’s instructed to clear her schedule for the week and to be in Rome by the end of the day.

The cold air hits her as she leaves the building, suitcase and camera bag in hand. This is the moment she’s been waiting for since joining the company, the chance to become a permanent fixture instead of hopping from gig to gig. She’s told that they requested her specifically, that one of the band members saw her collection from a festival last summer and was dead set on booking her for their summer tour. It’s all new to her, the feeling of being the first choice and not second best. She barely hears anything that’s said on the plane by their manager, too busy trying not to freak out.

It’s only a few hours plane ride, but it feels like a lifetime. Thoughts run wild in her head as the seconds tick by, she can’t remember the last time she’d been this excited, or nervous, for something. She’s greeted by more people from their team as she steps off the plane, and is quickly ushered to the villa they’ve been staying in. She barely has time to process the beautiful new city she’s in before she’s hidden by walls of an even more beautiful place.

They give her time to relax and unpack, but clear instructions to not leave the property without security. Things have been crazy, she’s told, since their winning last year fans have become more clever with their tactics. She laughs at some of the stories, but heeds the warning all the same. She’s seen quite a few things that have shaken her to her core, so she knows to be careful and wary.

Music floats through the halls and into her room, the band practicing on the other side of the villa. The music fills her veins with a feeling she can’t quite place, but it’s a welcome humming that gets her blood pumping. She grabs her camera and follows the melodies, laughing at the jokes thrown around in english whenever someone messes up. She angles herself behind a corner just right where she can take pictures while still being hidden from the band.

Her heart races at the scene in front of her. It’s a family like she’s never seen. They all seem to orbit around each other, pushing and pulling each other into their atmospheres. She watches Victoria dance around the room, bass in hand, strumming the lines to an old song. Thomas lays on the floor with a notebook reading off words, Damiano repeating them as he draws on eyeliner. And Ethan, who sits at his drum set, twirling the drumsticks in his hand as he observes the scene before him.

She captures picture after picture of their dynamic, taking the most of Ethan, who seems to have a magnetic pull to him. She only pulls herself from the moment when she’s spotted. “Sai, qualcuno chiamerebbe questo strano comportamento.”

The words are warm against her ear, and she jumps at the unexpected presence. She turns around, laughing to hide her embarrassment, trying to translate the words in her head. She freezes when she sees it’s Ethan, trying to figure out when he slipped away from the rest of the group.

“Ah, niente italiano. Er, it’s unusual, what you are doing.”

Another nervous laugh leaves her lips, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be creepy. There’s something about the way the group is when no one is watching, it’s hard to ignore, it needed to be captured.”

He smiles at that. It’s soft and warm and she feels as if the world has stopped spinning. A song plays between their hearts as a silence falls over them. There’s a beauty about him that makes it hard to focus on anything but him.

A series of crashes followed by loud curses in Italian breaks the spell that they were under and Ethan pulls himself away from her to go and manage his friends. She uses this moment as an excuse to slip away and tour the rest of the house, ending in the kitchen where dinner is being prepared. She snaps a few photos of the chefs cooking, already envisioning the blog post they’ll go along with.

When everyone has made their way to the dining room a toast is made; to new adventures, to new friends, and to family. Sweet wine and light rain makes the time pass faster and the evening flows into night easily. The group parts only moments after midnight, long days ahead calling them to catch up on sleep now.

The month flows by with days and nights blurring together. It seems the studio is really the only place they call home, spending every waking moment in the room that houses their instruments. She stays with them through the long hours, snapping photos of the weird things they get themselves up to. Her hard drive slowly fills with collections of each band member, ones for the public eye and ones she sends to them to make them laugh.

The end of the month brings a party, something small to celebrate sold out tour dates. A night out to a local bar and far too many drinks. She dances with Victoria, who has become her best friend in the few weeks she’s been with them. Damiano and his girlfriend are not far away, but much more caught up in their own world. Thomas has disappeared somewhere, no doubt warming someone's bed for the night. But through all the commotion, she can’t stop watching Ethan.

He’s sitting at a table nursing the only drink he’s had that night, planning to take on the role of babysitter at the end of the night once everyones had too much to drink. He drums his fingers on the table, following the beat of each song that plays. He seems lost in his own world, content with being by himself. She moves away from Victoria, who easily finds another partner, and makes her way to the table.

“Sembri solo,” the words fall from her lips quietly as she takes a seat beside him.

He smiles at her, “Seems your little lessons are paying off.”

She blushes at that, not realizing he’d picked up on her daily lessons with their English tutor. “Only enough to not seem like a tourist.”

A small chuckle escapes his lips, and she wishes she could bottle the sound.

“But don’t change the subject. Tonight was about having fun, celebrating a big accomplishment. Yet you’re sitting here alone.”

He sighs at her insistence, “Sometimes we don’t need to celebrate everything so publicly.”

Something pulls at her heart. She can’t imagine having such a public life, but she understands how it must feel to never have anything to yourself. Before she knows what she’s doing, she places a hand on his arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze, a light tingle shooting between the two of them.

She pulls her hand away quickly, a small blush forming on both their cheeks. He offers her a small smile to make the moment less awkward, and she returns it.

The night ends not too much later, the rest of the crew having decided that warm beds would be much more comfortable than the crowded bar. She helps Ethan herd their friends home, laughing along with him at their drunken antics. Victoria jokingly calls them mom and dad as they help her to bed, and the blush that was plastered on her face earlier that night makes a second appearance.

It’s almost morning by the time she makes it to her own room. Ethan isn’t far behind her, realizing for the first time tonight that they share the same hallway. “Buona notte,” comes his voice from down the hall.

She turns to face him, catching herself stuck in his stare. She can’t quite place the look in his eyes, but it gives her butterflies all the same.

“Buona notte.”

February

February brings more time in the studio and less time outside the walls of the Villa. While winter in Rome is not like the ones you’d experience in colder places, it still brings a chill to her bones. She steals one of Victoria's sweaters after a night spent lounging under the stars, a small break from a busy schedule.

A fire had been lit and a bottle of sweet wine was making its way around the group. She’d set her camera aside for the evening, planning on enjoying a night without the calls of work. She doesn’t know when it happens, but suddenly she’s swaying to a drunken beat in the arms of Damiano who can’t stop giggling at her two left feet. The man had not believed her when she said she couldn’t dance, but was now biting his tongue as they moved around the courtyard.

As the night seemed to come to a lull, a game of truth or dare was proposed and all were in agreement. She finds herself sitting beside Thomas on the floor as Victoria begins the game, a stupid dare aimed towards Damiano that earns him a new haircut. The night drags on in a flurry of laughter and silly dares. By midnight half the group is wearing someone else’s clothes, and the others have barely any on.

She’s moved to be sitting by Ethan, who has an arm casually draped across her shoulder. It shouldn’t feel so electric, his skin touching hers, but it does and it’s the only thing she can focus on. Her heart feels like it’s almost beating out of her chest and the blush on her face isn’t caused by the alcohol in her system.

Damiano is the first to notice her situation, and starts poking fun at her whenever it was his turn to ask her something. It started off innocent enough, small questions aimed towards her love life, but it soon caught the attention of Thomas who was the first one to issue a dare towards the girl. This was how she’d ended up sitting beside Ethan, cuddled into his side. Ethan was oblivious to the things going on around them, until Victoria dared her to kiss him.

It seems as though time stops, the laughter fades and the silence becomes deafening. She turns towards Ethan, a mixture of panic and excitement painted on her face. He smiles at her, “We don’t have to, amore.”

“A dares a dare.” She shrugs at him.

A round of cheers raises up around them as the two lean in. It’s meant to be only a small peck, something good enough to count in the eyes of those around them. But as she goes to pull away his hand reaches up to tangle in her hair and he pulls her closer. Their lips meet again without any hesitation and it’s like the world lights up around them. Blame it on the alcohol, but if she were to die right now she’d be happy.

They pull away a second later, a small laugh leaving both of them, chests rising at an unsteady rhythm.

“Awe, they’re blushing! How cute!” Comes the voice of Damiano, further pulling a blush from the girl.

She grabs one of the pillows beside her and aims it at his head, laughing when she misses terribly.

The night fades into morning and they all climb to the roof to watch the sunrise. It’s a moment she wants tattooed in her memories forever. She’s got her arms wrapped around Victoria and the three boys huddle around them, alcohol still flows through their veins and they’re all singing different versions of the same song.

March

The beginning of spring in Rome is magical. Flowers start to bloom, mornings are coated in a light dusting of rain, and clothing starts to become less of a necessity. She takes photos of the band trapezing the streets. The Villa studio has become too familiar, moving instead to a studio in the city.

By now, a routine has been put in place. Mornings sipping coffee and eating fresh pastries while she laughs at the varying states of wake the band is in. Afternoons in the studio, recording their new album while she collects photos and videos for their ‘making of’. Evenings spent in restaurants and bars, eating some of the best food she’s ever had, and she swears she’ll never eat anything better.

She’s never fallen in love with a city like this before. Maybe it’s the city, or maybe it’s the people she’s with, but she swears she never wants to leave. It suffocates her in the best way possible, the feeling of being home. She hopes that when the tours over and her contracts up, that she’ll move here, maybe even keep these people she’s grown so close to in the past few months.

She’s thrown out of the daydream by Thomas yelling at her in a mix of italian and english for not paying attention. It’s the middle of the afternoon, they’ve taken a lunch break at a restaurant down the block, and Thomas is expressively telling a story. His hands are in the air and he’s almost knocked his wine glass over too many times to count.

Damiano sits across from her, fiddling with her camera, snapping his own photos that he presents to her proudly. She laughs at every one, but never discourages his actions. Victoria is on her left, Ethan on her right, both vying for her approval as they argue over something. She’s overwhelmed by the different directions her brain is being tugged, but the hand that snakes its way into hers calms her.

She looks down to see Ethan rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand, a soft smile grazing his lips as they make eye contact. She returns it, whispering a small thank you to the boy.

That night, she lays in bed, in the room she’s begun to finally call hers, thinking of the boy with stars in his eyes. She doesn’t know if it’s feeling like she finally belongs somewhere, or the wine that still coats her veins, but there’s something about him that she wishes she could become a part of. She wants to wrap herself in it and never leave. She’s falling for him, hard. Vaffanculo.

April

It is Victoria's birthday and everyone has decided that she must be princess for the day. Ethan and Damiano have been up since dawn making an extravagant breakfast, something that should be put in a five star restaurant. Her and Thomas had disappeared shortly after waking, returning with a stack of presents that was almost as tall as him, and the best bouquet of flowers she could find.

After decorating the patio with anything and everything they could find, it was a mad dash to Victoria's room to wake her up. She protested, claiming that sleep was more important than being awake, but at the mention of presents she was the first one out of the room.

It was a morning of happiness, and a much needed break from their hectic schedule. She recorded the entire day, from the dramatic wake up call to the celebratory sparklers that were set off that night, it was all captured.

After breakfast the princess requested a trip to the beach, and no one would dare refuse her. They found something private, a little hidden oasis an hour's drive from the villa. They spend hours there, switching between swimming and laying in the sun. She finds herself alone on the sand with Ethan at one point, watching the others like proud parents.

She tries not to think about how close his body feels to her, how she can feel the heat his body is radiating seeping into her, the smell of his body wash. He’s invading all of her senses and she’s trying so hard to focus on anything but him. “Let’s go on a walk?”

His voice is warm as the question escapes his lips. She turns to look at him and she’s thankful to be able to blame the sun for the blush on her cheeks. She nods and gets up to follow him, brushing off the sand that’s clinging to her bathing suit and wrapping a towel around her shoulders.

They disappear down the beach, walking side by side, a comfortable silence enveloping them. It’s not till they’re halfway down the beach that either of them speaks. “Are you enjoying your time?”

She doesn’t miss the hint of worry that laces his voice, and she’s quick to reassure him that she is. “Yes, very much. This is probably the best job I’ve had in years.”

He softly chuckles at her words, “Good. Good. We’re trying to make you feel like one of us, don’t want you running away.”

She’s grateful for the confession, glad that they don’t see her as just another person that works for them. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

He bumps her shoulder with his, a small smile forming on his face, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They head back to the group soon after, realizing they’ve let the day slip away and need to leave soon if they want to make their dinner reservations.

A small vineyard hidden in the valley, they’ve booked the place so it’s just them, and ordered every bottle of wine on the menu to taste. They laugh away the night, enjoying plates of delicious food and letting their minds wander. A gorgeous cake is brought out at the end, half of which ends up destroyed thanks to an impromptu food fight. More presents are opened and Victoria starts tearing up, blubbering about how much she loves the idiots she’s surrounded with.

They walk through the dark streets of Rome, singing happy birthday loudly in every language they know. It’s unusually cold, but she’s somehow been wrapped in Ethan’s jacket, his arm slung over her shoulder. She’s holding Vic’s hand, Damiano and Thomas taking turns with her camera.

The air surrounding them is electrified, she looks up into the sky and thanks the stars for the life she’s living.

May

The summer tour is fast approaching, and nerves are starting to set in. The already high energy group somehow is bouncing off the walls even more, making for an interesting collection of photos. Nerves are starting to get the better of them, and she often finds one of them wandering around the Villa at odd hours of the night. She’s good at being able to channel her nerves into something else, focusing all of the energy on a new project.

One night though, it gets the better of her. She tosses and turns in her bed for hours before she decides that sleep isn’t coming. Instead of lying in bed willing her brain to shut off, she throws on a pair of shoes and heads for the front door, thinking a walk in the warm spring air will do her some good. What she doesn’t expect to find is Ethan sitting out on the terrace, cigarette in one hand and a book in the other, lost in his own world.

She doesn’t mean to catch his attention, hoping to allow him this little bit of uninterrupted peace, but he spots her anyway. “Buona serata,” He rasps, voice laced with the quietness of the night.

“Buona serata, Ethan.” She returns the greeting.

He motions for her to sit down in the chair beside him, closing the book and placing it on the table. “What’s troubling your mind tonight?”

She’s not used to the way someone can read her so well, but there’s something about Ethan that brings her comfort in the fact that he can. “Nerves, I guess. I’ve never done a gig this big, never spent so much time with one group. I’m used to being moved around a lot, still getting used to being a permanent fixture I guess.”

The words are heavy on her tongue, never having voiced her worries out loud before. He takes a long drag of the cigarette hanging from his lips, “La vita ci dà solo ciò che sa che possiamo gestire.”

“Some would think you were a poet in a past life.”

A small laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head. A comfortable silence falls over them and she wishes she could bottle this feeling to keep with her forever. He turns to look at her, and it’s hard to put into words the feeling that washes over him. He’s not sure where it comes from, the urge to kiss her, but it sends him spiralling.

He reaches his hand up to brush a few strands of hair out of her face, “Le stelle brillano più luminose nei tuoi occhi, amore.”

The words and his actions cause her heart to raise and her breath to hitch. They’re close now, the closest they’ve been since that night in February, and all she can think about is that kiss that they shared.

Neither knows who leaned in first, but suddenly their lips are touching and it is everything and nothing like they remembered. While the other kiss had been hesitant and brief, this one was full of purpose. Their noses brush and their breaths tangle together, he bits her lip for a moment and a small moan escapes her. He swears it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

He grabs at her hips, lifting her from the chair and placing her so she’s straddling his lap. She tangles her fingers in his hair and tugs softly, earning a groan from the man. The sound sends shockwaves through her and she rocks her hips against his almost involuntarily. His lips move from hers to the side of her neck, pulling small whimpers from her as he nips and sucks at the skin. It’s everything she’s ever imagined and more. The feeling of his body pressed to hers, the pleasure he can so easily give to her.

She moves her hands down to fumble with the hem of his shirt and that’s when he pulls away. “While I would normally love to do that here, how about we continue this somewhere more private?”

She nods eagerly and removes herself from his lap. He all but drags her inside the villa and towards his room. She trips over her own feet and they both laugh at her clumsiness, falling into each other as he tries to catch her but trips over his own feet in turn. He leans in to kiss her again as their bodies collide, this one sweeter and softer than the previous one.

The moment passes quickly and soon she’s being dragged through the halls again, only to be met with a half asleep Damiano standing in the doorway of his room. They stop in their tracks, jumping apart, trying to act like nothing was happening. “It’s rude to have a party and not invite everyone, you know.”

She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, glad that he didn’t know what had been happening moments prior. Ethan is quick to explain that they were just having a cup of tea on the terrace and were now heading to bed, and thankfully the lie is believed. Damiano wishes them a goodnight, heading back into his room, and the two are left in silence in the hallway.

“Maybe we should go to bed,” he whispers to her.

Her heart sinks, but she nods her head in agreement and turns to walk back down the hall to her room. She’s not really sure how the night was going to end, but this was definitely not how she wanted it to; walking in silence next to someone her heart aches for, pretending that nothing had happened between them.

He walks her up to her door, still ever the gentleman, and places a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Buona notte, amore.”

The words should not sound as sad as they do, and she tries her hardest to keep the tears welling up in her eyes at bay as she watches him turn and walk away.

June

How do you go back to being just friends after making out with someone? Well, you don’t. At least, not fully. They dance around each other without knowing it, avoiding any contact that could lead to something more or allude to something else, but there are still moments where the world seems to slip away and it’s just the two of them.

The tour kicks off at a festival in Amsterdam. Blue skies and sunny days greet them as they get off the plane. They have a day to explore before their first show, and no one can decide how to spend it. In the end, Victoria drags Thomas off to do some shopping, Damiano plans a trip to a few museums with his girlfriend, and she is left with Ethan.

She’s not truly stuck with him, but she doesn’t feel like wandering a forgein city all by herself. Since the night in the Villa, they haven’t spent longer than a few minutes alone together, both refusing to acknowledge what had happened.

A trip to the beach seems like the best place to be, and within the hour she’s lounging in the sun listening to Ethan read a book. It’s peaceful, the sound of the waves and his voice lulling her into a half sleep. She’s got a drink in her hands, something sweet and fruity, and she’s sharing a cigarette with Ethan. It’s a scene she thinks one would find in a movie.

She rolls herself over so she’s laying on her back, staring up at Ethan who sits beside her. She places her hand on his leg and traces random shapes into his skin. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her fingertips, and he tries to stay focused on the book in his hands but finds it hard to do so. “You are very distracting, amore.”

She looks up at him innocently and she can’t help but admire him. His hair is tucked away in a bun, but a few pieces have fallen out and are flying in the gentle breeze. He’s only wearing a pair of swim trunks, broad chest on full display. He catches her roaming eyes as they make their way back to his face, a smirk slowly forming on his face. “Or maybe I’m the one distracting you, no?”

She smiles shyly and looks away from him, because yes, he is distracting her, and she’s finding it very hard to not kiss him right now. He chuckles at her, reaching his hand towards her face and turning it back towards him. He leans down towards her, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

All she can do is nod, and a second later his lips are on hers. It’s sweet and slow, she can taste the tobacco on his lips and it’s intoxicating. She moves so she’s sitting up, leaning into him more, the world around them fading out until all that is left is them.

A few days later they find themselves in a hotel room in Munich. There’s music playing and everyone’s laughing. Her camera hasn’t left her hands all night, every moment needing to be captured as they ride the after show high.

She’s in the middle of recording Thomas’ one man act when a pair of arms wrap themselves around her waist. She knows exactly who it is by the scent that invades her nostrils and sends her brain into overdrive. She lets out a sudden, loud laugh, as his fingers trace themselves up and down her sides, collapsing into his chest as she struggles to breath.

He picks her up and spins her around, letting out an equally loud laugh at her protests. He’s happy, and it’s something that looks better on him than any designer outfit he could ever buy.

He falls onto one of the beds, pulling her down with him. She lands beside him tangled in his arms, he’s looking at her with a goofy grin on his face. The world seems to silence around them as their eyes lock. Her smile softens and she reaches her hand over to brush an eyelash off his cheek, he catches her hand before she can pull it away and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently.

He looks ethereal in this moment, hair strewn all over the place, a wild look in his eyes. She reaches for her camera and brings it up to capture him, never wanting to forget this moment.

The streets of Prague are empty, save for the two of them walking hand in hand down them. It’s early, almost too early to be considered an acceptable time to be awake, but they continue on nonetheless. A wild craving for something sweet had brought upon their adventure, and with the look she was giving him, he couldn’t say no to accompanying her.

They had been sitting on the balcony of her hotel room, watching the sun starting to peak out over the horizon and sharing a cigarette when she had turned to him with a mischievous look in her eyes. “I want something sweet.”

The comment had earned her an offer to order room service, but she shakes her head at the idea, standing up and walking back into the room. “No. Something real, maybe a coffee too.”

He follows her in, watching her pull on a shirt to cover the bralette she had been sitting in. “È presto, amore. Let’s go to bed. We can order something when the sun is awake also.”

She smiles at his words, but makes no move to stop dressing. She grabs her wallet and room key before heading to the door, stopping to turn and look at him, a question in her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll come with you.” He says after a moment, throwing on his jacket and walking over to her.

It’s 7:30 in the morning, the sun is starting to make it’s daily appearance, and they are happy. The small bakery they stumble into is just opening for the day and they’re greeted by the owner, an older lady with the sweetest smile. She speaks in broken English, an obvious language barrier between the group of them, but no one seems to mind.

She orders herself a poppy strudel and a coffee, Ethan ordering a croissant and an espresso, before sitting down at one of the small tables. He sits beside her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. He presses a soft kiss into the crown of her head and she sighs in content.

Moments like this are what she lives for. She might only be here because she works for them, but somewhere along the way she’s become part of their little family. She looks over to Ethan who’s lost in conversation with the owner, and she whispers to herself, “Penso di essermi innamorato di te.”

She doesn’t know that he hears her, his smile spreading wider across his face.

July

The turnover from June to July happens mid concert in Stockholm. She swears she can feel it, the sudden shift, a slight change in the air. She’s running around in front of the stage capturing pictures of the band in what she’s come to call their ‘natural habitat’. There’s an indescribable buzz in the air as they perform, the crowd becoming louder and louder with each song.

She keeps catching Ethans eye and there’s something primal in the way he looks at her. During a song switch, while Damiano rambles to the crowd, he motions her on stage. He tells her to get closer to everyone, promising that they won’t bite, and she giggles at him. She does what he says nonetheless, capturing some up close photos of the band and a few great shots of the crowd.

All too soon the show is ending and everyone’s piling into the car, a small party taking place in the backseat. Damiano has music blasting from his phone, Victoria and Thomas are dancing along to the beat, and Ethan is belting out the lyrics. She watches the group of them, laughing so hard her sides hurt, and she’s never felt more at home.

When they get to the hotel he’s quick to pull her towards his room, thankfully void of a roommate for the night. The second they get into the room, his lips are on hers. He pulls her close to his body and her hands tangle themselves in his hair. It’s nothing like any of their previous kisses, it’s heated and fast, every thought trying to be conveyed by the fever of it. She pulls back slightly to catch her breath and he leans in to whisper in her ear, “Join me in the shower?”

It’s not so much a question as a statement, but she nods her head eagerly, quick to follow him into the bathroom. He strips himself of the few clothes he’s wearing (most having been thrown off during the show), before turning to her. He reaches his arms out towards her, pulling her close to him and tugging on her shirt. She barely registers him pulling off her clothes, too focused on his body in front of her.

She’s never seen him so bare, and she’s having a hard time focussing on anything else. It’s not until her body hits the warm water that she snaps back to reality. He looks wild, eyes blown with lust, a wicked smile on his face. She firmly plants her lips on his, moaning into the kiss as he grabs at her. His hands are skilled and know every way to pull those delicious sounds from her lips.

It’s quick and dirty, and it is everything she has ever imagined it would be.

An hour later, she’s tangled up in the sheets of his bed, his entire being engulfing her as they watch the stars outside the window. She wonders if they are watching them too.

Paris is the city of lights, a statement she’s never been more sure of. The streets are lit with every light, shining brighter than the stars. She’s in a permanent state of bliss, after the night she shared with Ethan. Their relationship is hidden from the public, living in stolen moments and nights in hotel rooms, but she’s never been happier to be someone's dirty secret.

The band is electric on stage, something about the city they’re in taking their performance to a whole new level. The show goes on longer than it should have, but none of them even care when their manager comes over to reprimand them. They hang around to greet fans and take photos with anyone and everyone, and it’s not until security has to kick them out that they finally leave.

They find themselves in a bar, not sure what part of the city they’re in, but no one cares when the night feels like this. They drink expensive drinks that they can’t pronounce the name of, dance to songs they don’t know the words to, and feel more alive than they’ve ever felt. It’s like the world turned itself up to 11 just for them.

She dances with Ethan, not caring who sees because the night is theirs and no one cares. She kisses him in the middle of the dance floor and he pulls her into a vacant bathroom. It’s hot and heavy and the smell of alcohol envelopes them, but they couldn’t care less. Is this love? They don’t care. They’re young and dumb, and well, you only live once.

Back at the hotel they spend the night wrapped in bedsheets on the balcony, a bottle of champagne and a pack of cigarettes shared between the two of them. He points to the stars, a stupid grin on his face, “Le stelle brillano solo per noi.”

She snorts, throwing an abandoned pillow at him. He grabs her arm and pulls her into him, tickling her sides until she’s begging him to stop, tears staining her cheeks but a laugh like no other leaving her lips.

As the night bleeds into morning, and both are hazy with sleep, he whispers to her, “Sei il mio universo.”

They walk down the streets of London, his arm slung over her shoulders as she rambles away, both blissfully unaware of the few fans snapping photos down the street. They don’t notice the group of girls following them, cameras and phones in hand, capturing picture after picture of the couple.

By the time they reach the shop, the photos are already out into the world.

As they order, reposts and comments start flowing, and their phones start lighting up with notifications.

Before they can pay, she’s crying.

Rule number one of being in the public eye; never look at the comments, distance yourself from social media as much as possible, it will never end well.

The final stop in Rome was supposed to be a welcome home. A big celebration was to occur after their last concert, but now, it’s nothing more than finding the quickest way back home. She sits in one of the dressing rooms the entire show, waiting for it to end, scrolling through her social media.

She knows she shouldn’t be, that’ll all it’s doing is hurting her, making her feel worse. But she can’t stop. The comments aimed towards her and the drummer are terrible, and she wishes she could just delete herself from existence. They aren’t even dating, at least not officially, but she’s been deemed the girlfriend from hell. She’s unknowingly stolen something that never belonged to anyone to begin with.

Damianos girlfriend is in the room with her, telling her of her own horror stories dealing with fans, and she knows she’s just trying to help, but she really wishes she would just shut up. She loves the girl to death, she’s been a blessing this entire time, but she feels her mind is too far gone to be saved from the madness.

It’s only a few minutes later that the band wanders in, the usual after show high replaced with a sudden heaviness. Ethan comes to stand by her after putting his things away and pulls her into a tight hug. “Amore mio.”

He’s sweaty and could definitely use a shower, but the hug is comforting. She rubs his back soothingly, knowing this is just as hard on him as it is on her. Their management team has told everyone to remain quiet about it, disappearing from the internet until further notice while they figure out how to manage the situation. It’s maddening, the inability to speak out and protect her. He wishes he could snap his fingers and everything would be fixed, but he knows nothing is ever that easy.

They make their way back to the villa in silence, the car filled with a strangeness. She’s sandwiched between Victoria and Ethan, leaning on the bassist's shoulder, watching her play a game on her phone. It’s not how anyone wanted to end the tour, but the world is a strange and cruel place. Everything good always comes burning down.

August

There’s a party at the villa one night. Things have calmed down enough that she doesn’t spiral every time she looks at her phone, but there’s something in the way Ethan acts around her that makes her uneasy. She’s standing out on the patio, trying to avoid the questioning eyes from everyone in the house. She hasn’t spoken to Ethan all day, and the alcohol coursing through her veins makes her even angrier than she knows she should be.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees him walk out the door beside her, a small scoff leaving her lips as he tries to speak to her.

“Couldn’t be bothered to talk to me all day, what’s changed that you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?”

He looks at her, stunned. “I don’t get what you mean.”

She scoffs again, placing her glass on the table across from her. “Since London you’ve done nothing but ignore me. I get that this wasn’t easy for you, but it wasn’t exactly a cake walk for me. I needed you, Ethan, and you left me.” Her voice is raw and scratchy, the feeling of wanting to cry tickling the back of her throat.

“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how Dami does it, how he can deal with the comments and messages. My brain won’t shut off, I can’t stop thinking about how if I had been more careful, I could’ve protected you and none of this would’ve happened. I feel stupid for thinking I could have. I hate seeing you like this, I wish I could take you away from all of this.” His voice slowly lowers, till it’s nothing more than a whisper, words meant only for her.

“I was never what you wanted, was I? This was just all some stupid game to you. I was just someone you could use to get off.” Her voice is laced with pain, a small crack coming out as she speaks.

He shakes his head, laughing slightly, and turns to look away from her. He walks a few steps before turning to face her again, “No. No, you were exactly what I wanted. You were everything to me. We were the same type of crazy.”

“I don’t understand Ethan, then what was the problem? This feels like a confession and a break up all in one.” She crosses her arms and leans against the wall, watching as he pulls a cigarette out from his pocket and lights it.

The familiar sight creates something warm in her chest, memories of summer nights like this flash through her mind. Spending the evening sitting on the balcony of different hotel rooms, sharing a cigarette between the two of them while they let the events of the day soak in. She’d give anything to go back to one of those moments. He blows a breath of smoke out and starts to speak again, “I don’t know, amore. I don’t. I want to tell you I love you, to hold you and call you mine. But I can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t.” It’s not a question, but a statement.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t turn this into something it’s not. I want to, believe me, I do.” He steps towards her and reaches out his arms, “But we both know we can’t.”

She doesn’t know where the tears come from, but they’re there, pooling in her eyes. It’s only been a few months since they’ve met, there were no promises to be anything more than a summer adventure, but this doesn’t feel right. Her heart should not be breaking at the thought of losing someone she barely even knows.

He stops when he notices her state, reaching out to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks. “Merda. Merda! This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

She looks up at him through clouded eyes, “Then how was this supposed to go, Ethan? Breaking my heart wasn’t supposed to hurt me this bad? I was supposed to smile and tell you that I'm not madly in love with you and these past few months meant nothing to me?”

His heart breaks slowly at her words. He never meant for the night to go this way, and he wishes he could just pull her into his arms and tell her he loved her, that everything could be okay. But he can’t, so he pulls away from her, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

They’re the only words he can manage to get out without breaking down. He takes a second to watch her, memorize all the features of her face, before turning around and walking away. It’s a sight that rips her heart out, watching his form disappear back into the house. She knows this is it, the goodbye she’d been preparing for these past few weeks, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

Before she can help herself, she’s calling after him. “Being in love isn’t a weakness, you know!” But the words fall upon deaf ears.

Vic finds her standing in the same spot an hour later. She’s got a smoke lit in her hand, the third one from the pack. She hasn’t touched her lips to any of them, but the smell and the feeling of holding it brings her comfort. She was never really one to smoke, but she found it entrancing to watch Ethan do it, and right now, it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. It’s silly, how something so small can mean so much.

Her heart aches in the most unbearable way, but she can’t bring herself to do anything about it. Vic doesn’t speak, just stands beside her. She doesn’t need to ask to know that she is well aware of the events that have just unfolded, she’s just grateful for the company.

September

It’s stupidly hot in London for the time of year, but mother nature loves her unexpected heat waves. She’s home now, having left Rome shortly after the fight with Ethan, assuring their manager that she would be able to edit and upload all of the photos and videos from the comfort of her own flat.

Vic and Thomas had driven her to the airport, had walked her all the way to security and hugged her tightly before letting her go. She’d promised to keep in touch and Victoria had made her pinky swear that if she was ever in Rome again, she’d come visit. The flight was short, and she was glad the time difference was only an hour.

Her sister had picked her up and dropped her off at her flat, and she’d immediately collapsed into bed. That was three days ago, she’d barely moved since. Someone had caught her at the airport and the photos were everywhere, articles upon articles had been released, she’d had non stop messages from everyone, but all she could bring herself to do was turn her phone off.

Her photos make it to the front of magazines, her articles getting featured all over the globe, she’s made a name for herself. She gets emails from prospective clients wanting to book her in at shows, her boss sending her information for more high end gigs, but all she can think about is her drummer boy.

Her phone still sits turned off on her desk, she refuses to turn it on for anything, resorting to using only her email, but she knows everything that’s going on with the band. She’d been asked to join them again in a few months, to become a permanent part of their team. She hasn’t been able to reply.

She gets panicky thinking about seeing him again, about the things people will say if she’s caught in the same country as him. She’s stopped receiving death threats, but there’s still comments that creep in, fans thanking whatever gods made them seperate.

Victoria tries to reach out every few days, worried about the state of person she’s become, but she can’t even manage to type out an I’m okay. The world seems to be too fast and too slow, too bright and too dark, too much and not enough. Her heart aches and it’s a pain so deep she thinks she’ll never be okay again. Love is a cruel, cruel creature.

October

She finally brings herself to go back to work at the beginning of the month. She books herself in for a small band, someone no one really knows but she hopes they will one day. She’s in Amsterdam now, trying hard not to think of the memories the place brings. The band is good, the music heavy and the beat strong. They find a way to tell a story that leaves everyone with a soul searching question by the end of the night. Do you know who you are?

She’s only with them for a few nights, a short gig, but something she needed to get the ball rolling, to remember why she was doing this in the first place. After submitting the photos and writing an article that sends another wave of offers her way, she takes a few days to explore the city. It was wonderful before, when the air was warm and it felt like there was magic enveloping the city. But now, with the change of seasons, it’s even more beautiful than she remembers.

She walks the empty streets one night, huddled in the safety of her hoodie, camera in hand, and captures moments. A couple standing under a street light, a cafe closing for the night, kids running. It’s not until she hears a laugh she’s all too familiar with that her heart stops and her blood turns cold. She turns, ever so carefully, hidden behind the side of a building, and sees him.

He’s beautiful, even more than she remembers, and he looks happy. He’s walking with two girls, the resemblance making her sure it’s his sisters, but in this light she can’t be sure. She’s never met them, but he talked about them often, and she felt a pang in her chest for the homesickness he must have felt.

She tries to run, tries her hardest to get away, but she’s in an alley that leads nowhere and he’ll for sure be able to see her no matter what. The voices of the three get closer and she starts to panic, but there’s nowhere to go and she knows she’ll have to pull on her big girl pants and face him. But her heart won’t stop beating so loudly and she’s afraid she’ll break if he looks at her.

She pretends to be busy with her camera, focusing all of her attention on settings she knows are perfect, but a voice carries it’s way to her ears. “Hey stranger.”

It’s soft and it makes her knees weak and she hates herself for it. She looks up at him and his expecting eyes and her heart breaks all over again. She can’t help it, but suddenly there are tears running down her face and she can’t breathe. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.”

He places a hand on her shoulder but she pushes it away, “No it’s not.” She says between breaths.

“I shouldn’t be here, I should not be here. I have to go.”

She turns to leave, but one of his sisters stops her, “Let us walk you home, please. My brother may be a dumbass, but we have good genes. Let us make sure you get back safe.”

She doesn’t know why the words calm her, but she nods her head and lets the girls lead her in the direction of her hotel. The twins, Eleanora and Lucrezia, talk to her in fits of italian and english, trying to keep her brain occupied. But her whole body is on high alert, too aware of the man trailing behind them and how much of a fool she must look like. She feels like a mess, like someone drowning in a foot of water, but she can’t help it.

They walk her into the lobby of her hotel, the girls wish her a goodnight before shoving Ethan towards her. She doesn’t want to talk to him, and he must see it in her eyes because he tries to leave. But his sisters won’t let him, they stand tall and he looks like a child being scolded by his parents.

“Can we sit?” He asks, pointing to a couch.

She doesn’t want to, she wants to run up to her room and cry, but she nods. They sit and it is silent. Her stomach is in her throat, her eyes hurt from trying not to cry, but she sits and she waits. She studies his face, the crease in between his eyebrows that only forms when he’s confused or thinking, she wants to reach over and smooth it out. He turns towards her and catches her staring, a small smile forming on his lips.

He takes her in, allowing himself to really look at her for the first time in months, and something in his heart breaks. How did he ever let her go? Why was he so stupid to ruin something so beautiful?

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out before he can stop himself. “I’m so sorry, amore. I know I can’t say it enough, I know it’s not as easy as that, but I’m sorry and I love you. So much it hurts.”

The words hit her like a truck, they knock the air out of her lungs and the tears she was trying so hard to keep at bay start falling down her cheeks. She stands up so fast she gets light headed, “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

She turns and starts walking towards the elevators. He calls after her, but she’s determined to leave, to get away. He runs after her, catching her right before the doors of the elevator close, and he wishes she didn’t look so broken. The doors slip close and she is gone and he feels like he could break something.

Her room is cold and she wishes she was home in her flat. She throws herself into the shower, the water burning her skin, and she sobs. She sobs so hard her body shakes, she screams and hopes no one can hear her.

He’s still standing by the elevator, crying now, too. His body aches in a way he’s never felt before and he hates that he isn’t holding her right now. He knows he messed up, he beats himself up for it everyday, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay, but he has to do something.

November

The ground is covered in snow. It is peaceful and quiet. He’s not used to this, the cold and the snow, but he understands the appeal. He’s standing outside her flat, or at least what he hopes is her flat, Victoria wasn’t exactly sure which one was hers. He’s bought her favourite flowers and he’s prepared to pour his soul out to her.

He paces outside her door for what feels like hours, trying to get himself to knock, but before he can, she opens the door. “Ethan?”

Her voice is soft, his heart sings at the sound of it. He turns to face her and the sight before him takes his breath away. She’s wearing a dress that shows off everything he loved about her, a coat thrown over her arm, she looks like an angel on earth. “Do you have a moment?”

She’s running late for dinner with her sister, but she’s afraid if she says no to him, she’ll never see him again. She hasn’t forgotten that night in Amsterdam, wishes she would have been brave enough to stay and talk, but she can’t change the past. “Yes, yes. Come in.”

She lets him into her flat, taking the flowers he hands her, and brings him over to her couch. “So.”

The script he’d had prepared in his head is suddenly gone from his memories. “I’ve thought this through a thousand times, planned this out a million different ways, but I can’t figure out the right words to say. I’m sorry, amore mio. I can’t say that enough. I never should have left you, shouldn’t have let things happen the way they did. Loving you was easy, and I think that scared me.”

She takes a deep breath, not sure what to say. She feels tears bubbling in the back of her throat and she hates that this is her response to everything revolving around him. He notices the shift in her, can tell she’s about to cry, “Amore mio, please don’t cry. I’ll start and then neither of us will be able to do anything else.”

She laughs quietly at his words, “I don’t think there are any tears left inside of me. I cried them all for you.”

His heart breaks at her confession. He moves closer to her and wraps himself around her. She hates how easy it is for her to melt into his touch, but she enjoys the comfort of it. “Tell me how to fix this. Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me. I’m yours amore.”

“Please, don’t leave me again.” The words are barely more than a whisper, but he hears them.

He pulls her tight to his chest and holds her. She doesn’t care about anything else but this moment and him.

She wakes up the next morning in her bed. The sun is streaming in through the windows and she can smell Ethans body wash laced in the fibres of her bed sheets. She rolls over, expecting to see him beside her, but is met with an empty bed. Her heart sinks, afraid that everything he’d said was too good to be true, that he’d left her, again. But the sounds coming from her kitchen prove her wrong.

She gets up, quickly changing out of the dress she was wearing the night before, and follows the sound of clinking dishes. She’s greeted by the sight of a shirtless Ethan, back turned to her, hunched over her stove. There’s the smell of coffee brewing and something soft playing from the radio. If she doesn’t think too hard, she can almost imagine this being a daily occurrence.

He turns around when he hears the floorboards creak, a smile on his face, “Buongiorno amore mio.”

“Buongiorno.”

He hands her a cup of coffee and plates the pancakes he’s made. She smiles at the domesticality of it all. He sits down beside her on the couch and they eat in silence, leaning against one another. Afterwards, she washes the dishes and he dries them. Neither one of them says anything until the sun is high in the sky and they are laying in bed together. “I love you.”

It is the first time she’s said it in such a permanent way, she recites it like it is a fact written in history books. He looks down at her, she’s curled up on his chest, a hazy look on her face. He reaches down to tuck her hair behind her ear and leans his head towards her, “Ti voglio bene.” He seals the statement with a soft kiss.

It’s light and barley there, she chases after his lips as he pulls away, and he chuckles in a way that sends butterflies into her stomach. She places herself on his lap, weaving her fingers into his hair as his tether to her waist. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He stares at her, memorizing all of the features of her face. He loses himself in thoughts of days spent exactly like this, of a life he hopes isn’t just a dream. He flips them over carefully, laying her down on the bed. He hovers over her, arms on either side of her head, “I’m going to show you how much I love you.”

December

“Move in with me.”

It’s early in the morning and they’re sitting in bed sharing a pot of coffee and a pack of cigarettes. His arm is wrapped around her shoulders, she’s leaned into his side, and he whispers those words.

She hasn’t yet told him about the offer from the band's manager, to become their permanent photographer, but it seems like the perfect moment to. “Yes.”

“Really?”

She laughs at his shock, “I was offered to come and work for the band full time, I haven’t replied yet. But I want to take the job.”

A goofy grin makes its way onto his face, “Do it! Right now. Tell them yes, come and stay with us. Be my girlfriend?”

He’s rambling and he doesn’t care. She smiles at him, her heart bursting with love for the man. “Okay, yes! Absolutely!”

Christmas is celebrated in their apartment in Rome. The band is there, her sister flies out and his family comes too. It is a day filled with love and laughter. They eat a grand lunch that they spent the previous day cooking, his mom brings a homemade panettone. They exchange gifts in the evening, and it is everything she’d dreamed of.

On New Year's Eve they make a trip to the villa. They sing songs and drink expensive wine. Fireworks light up the sky brighter than the stars. They sit out on the porch and tell stories of things that seem so far away. He’s sitting beside her, hands intertwined. He tells her about all of the things he wants to do in the new year and she is mesmerized by the way he talks.

There will be a moment in time when the world stops spinning and everything goes quiet, and she thinks that if that were to happen now, it would be the perfect way to go. Surrounded by the people she now calls family and the person she loves most in the world.

Fireworks go off in the distance, someone shouts out a drunken happy new year! and as time flows from one year to the next, she realizes that this is all that will ever matter.

318 notes · View notes

doeilovr · 3 years

Text

DREAMING

-> Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

-> Genre: Angst, a bit of fluff

-> Warnings: mentions of car accident and amnesia, smoking, swearing, mentions hospital

-> Words count: 3.5k

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Jaemin opened his eyes, the fluorescent light making his head hurt a bit. He looked around, mouth dry and mind blank. Jaemin’s eyes were still adjusting to the light, when he suddenly felt a hand on top of his.

Jaemin’s eyes wandered to your sleeping figure, head resting on the bed, while your hands were covering his gently. He froze, studying you with furrowed brows.

You moved in the probably uncomfortable position you were in, lifting your head to meet Jaemin’s eyes. “Hey”, you gently said, almost in a whisper and with a warm smile on your lips.

“You slept here again”, Jaemin stated, trying his best to smile back at you. You shrugged, properly sitting up in the chair, hands not leaving Jaemin’s.

Jaemin studied you, his eyes wandering between yours and your warm hands.

Why, just why was it so hard to remember. Jaemin wished he could remember you the way you remember him. He wished he could give back the love that radiated from your eyes.

You chuckled awkwardly, pulling your hands back to fix your hair and shirt. “So”, you mumbled, “I hope you atleast slept well?”

Jaemin smiled, seeing your awkward expression. “Like a stone”, he nodded, “why, did I often sleep unwell?” He was suddenly curious, wondering what else you knew about him that he didn’t.

You bit your lip, “actually, you just stayed up late often, working.” Jaemin was a photographer, that he remembered, but everything after one year ago was erased from his memory.

Which was a lot, since he had met you a year ago. You immediately fell for each other the moment his eyes found yours. You met in a park at midnight, both of you in need of a walk and some fresh air.

Somehow you both stopped by a busker that night, Jaemin being attracted by the voice of the singer performing in the almost empty riverside park and you overhearing the words of comfort hiding in his lyrics.

You and Jaemin had talked until the early morning, just sitting by the river. And afterwards you had both left, feeling happy until you realized you hadn’t even exchanged numbers.

Neither of you believed in fate, yet somehow you crossed paths only a week later in Japan. Both volunteering for the same organization. You couldn’t believe your luck, neither did Jaemin.

Jaemin didn’t waste any time after that and asked you out a few days later when you were both back home again. You were young, but every step with Jaemin felt just right.

The car accident happened so fast, leaving Jaemin with bruises and amnesia. And you with a shattered heart.

He was in the hospital for a whole week now and it was so hard to introduce yourself to him again, as if you didn’t date him for a year already. And having Jaemin constantly look at you like he didn’t promise to be with you forever just a week ago.

But as heartbroken as you felt, you saw how much he tried to remember and make you feel comfortable. You couldn’t help but get yourself together aswell, for the sake of Jaemin and your relationship.

“It’s lunch time”, the door to Jaemin’s private room opened, the male nurse walking in, holding a plate of food and putting it down in front of Jaemin.

“Thank you, Jeno”, you smiled, sitting on the edge of Jaemin’s bed. Jaemin looked between you and the male nurse, wondering if you were friends or something.

“There’s some food for you too, y/n”, Jeno smiled back. “Jaemin, enjoy the lunch!” Jeno patted him on the shoulder slightly, before he turned around to leave again.

You moved a bit closer to Jaemin, preparing the food for him and pouring him a glass of water.

“Oh, yummy”, you clapped, eying the food on the yellow tray, “it looks really good.”

Jaemin bit the insides of his cheeks, his eyes on you. “Can- can you help me?”

You stared at him, heart clenching at the sound of his almost helpless voice. “Sure”, you whispered, moving closer once again.

You fed Jaemin in silence for some time, smiling at how much he enjoyed the warm food. “Have some too”, Jaemin suddenly spoke, nudging his head in your direction.

You nodded, taking a bite from the food aswell, not even thinking anything as you ate with the same spoon. “It’s good”, you smiled, covering your full mouth with one hand.

Jaemin chuckled at the sight, “I’m glad.” You continue feeding Jaemin, making sure to also let him have a sip of water in between.

“By the way, the doctor said that maybe you could go home in a few days already. Isn’t that great?” You smiled again, watching carefully not to spill any food.

Jaemin raised his eyebrows at you, swallowing the bite quickly. “Home.. to my family?”

He seemed genuinely confused and you suddenly felt bad, having forgotten for a moment that he didn’t remember everything you shared together.

“We live together. In a small apartment. But I mean if you want to go to your parents’ house instead-“ you shrugged, Jaemin interrupting you quickly.

“No. I want to stay with you.” He nodded, more to himself, eyes staring blankly on the half empty plate in front of him. “Besides, my family’s in Busan. I would have to travel and I don’t want to do that right now.” You only nodded at his words, continuing to eat in silence.

—

On the weekend, the doctors agreed that Jaemin could finally go home. You packed his stuff, while he changed in the bathroom, before the two of you left the hospital, taking a taxi home.

For both you and Jaemin it had been a while since you were last out. Especially Jaemin seemed very careful and almost anxious.

You unlocked the door to your apartment, letting Jaemin go in first. You had asked a friend of yours to come by every couple days to tidy up the space.

Your apartment was small, a bedroom and en suite and a cozy living space. You had no balcony, but access to the rooftop, which was pretty great too.

You were almost a bit frightened, watching Jaemin drop his bag and look around, stopping by the pictures on the bookshelf.

Carefully you approached him, taking a look at the picture in his hands. It was taken in Japan where the two of you met for the second time.

You really liked that picture, both of you doing what you loved the most, helping others. “When was this taken?” Jaemin tilted his head, squinting his eyes a bit as if he tried hard to recall the memories.

“In Japan, a year ago. This was our second time meeting each other”, you explained, Jaemin nodding.

“We met while volunteering?”

You hummed in response, “yeah and we couldn’t believe we had the luck to meet each other again like this.” You couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“Wait, when did we meet the first time then?” Jaemin turned his head to look at you.

“At a park, a couple weeks earlier. We were strangers, but we both stopped to listen to a busker and I don’t know, we were drawn to each other somehow.”

Jaemin smiled a bit, not remembering the feeling, but still knowing what you were talking about. “Kind of romantic that we met again”, he mumbled.

“Yeah”, you giggled, “we stayed there for a few days, helping where we could. We sticked together for the whole time, probably afraid we could lose each other again.”

“And then? Did I ask you out?”

You nodded, meeting Jaemin’s eyes. “Yes, only after we spent a few more nights together. It was kind of cute how quickly you asked me out.”

Jaemin furrowed his brows, “we had a lot to talk about, huh? I mean, is it normal to spend so many nights talking?”

He seemed really confused, but you couldn’t help but laugh, smacking his arm slightly. “I didn’t say we talked”, you added with a cheeky grin.

Jaemin stared at you with wide eyes, suddenly flustered. “Oh”, he only mumbled.

You walked into the kitchen, feeling a bit bad for laughing at him. “Are you hungry, Jaemin? I can make you dinner if you want?”

Jaemin placed the frame back on the shelf, before he walked into the kitchen too, looking around. “I am yes”, he answered, eyes roaming around. “But could I maybe wash up first?”

You turned to face him, standing on the other side of the kitchen island. “Oh my god, sure. Sorry, I hadn’t thought about that.” You scratched your head, feeling a bit awkward.

“It’s fine”, Jaemin bit the inside of his cheeks, “ehm, where was the bathroom again?”

You gestured behind him, “it’s next to the bedroom. You can take a bath if you want. I can cook in the meantime.”

Jaemin nodded. “We have a bathtub?”

“We do”, you smiled, your heart hurting a bit when you remembered how much Jaemin wanted one when you were searching for an apartment together.

“Cool”, Jaemin grinned, “then, I’m gonna take a bath.” He turned around, disappearing in the bathroom. The sound of the water being turned on was heard soon after.

You prepared a simple dinner, consisting of noodles and a salad, while Jaemin washed up. You couldn’t wait to also wash up, rinsing off the smell of the hospital.

“Y/n?”

You turned around, having just poured the sauce over the spaghetti. Jaemin stood in the living room, a towel wrapped around his waist, his wet hair covering his forehead.

“Yes Jaemin?”

“Could you help me with this”, Jaemin held up a fresh bandage, indicating for you to help him with his wounds.

You nodded vigorously, putting the pot in the sink before you walked over to Jaemin, gesturing for him to sit on the bed, since it was more comfortable than the sofa. You kneeled down in front of him.

“I could have done it myself, but-“ Jaemin started. “Don’t worry, I’m happy to help”, you smiled, eyes focused on the bandage he handed you.

You carefully removed the old one from his stomach. The scar underneath looked a lot better already. “I’ll put some ointment on it”, you whispered, one hand moving to hold his waist, to have a steadier hand.

Jaemin hissed at the contact, “your hand is cold.” You looked up to him with apologetic eyes, mumbling a “sorry”.

Jaemin watched you intently, feeling so grateful to have someone by his side. He still wished he could give back the love that he always saw in your eyes.

It really burdened him that he knew barely anything about you or the life you shared.

“I’m sorry”, he suddenly mumbled, not even realizing he had started to cry. “I’m sorry I can’t give you the love you deserve. Or anything at all. I’m sorry that I hurt you so much, I really wish I could remember everything. I really do. I’m just sorry.”

You blinked back tears, your heart clenching at his words. “Dont apologize, Jaemin.” You sat down on the bed, pulling your boyfriend into a hug. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. And you don’t have to be sorry, okay?”

You couldn’t help but also cry, both of you just hugging each other tightly, sharing the same pain. Jaemin pulled back after what seemed like forever, holding your head with both of his hands.

“I’m gonna try my best to be the man you deserve again. I’m gonna go back to be the Jaemin you knew. I’ll try my best”, he promised, thumb brushing over your wet cheek.

You only nodded, overwhelmed by his loving words for you. Jaemin gently placed a kiss on your forehead, drying your tears with his thumb. “It’s gonna be okay”, he whispered, pulling you back into his arms again.

Jaemin’s promise was what gave you hope again. He really tried, learning about himself and you. Trying to be his old self again.

You tried aswell. Feeding him with the information he wanted and being there for him when he needed you.

Nothing could change your love for Jaemin, you felt like it only grew with every day. But you still couldn’t help but wonder if Jaemin even felt the same love for you.

A few days after you had shared these loving words, you and Jaemin sat in bed together. You were reading, while Jaemin looked through albums with pictures he took the past year.

They were mostly of you and the trips you had made together. They were mostly connected with volunteering, which made Jaemin happy. All he ever wanted was everyone around him to be happy.

He found a fairly recent picture, where you two were sitting at lunch. Jaemin couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw himself holding a cigarette.

He gasped, which made you immediately look at him in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I- I smoke?” Jaemin was really shocked about himself. “Am I stupid?”

You wanted to laugh at his cute voice, but you remembered how hard the past few months in your relationship were because he started to change.

“Well you did. Doesen’t mean you still have to”, you shrugged.

Jaemin dropped the album in his lap, turning his head to you. “Any other stupid thing I did that you haven’t told me yet?” His voice got really high in the end, while his eyes only widened.

You bit your lips, a few things coming to your mind. Jaemin’s eyes widened, since it had only been a joke. But you really did seem to have some things to say.

“Actually”, you sighed, putting your book down, “I don’t know why you did all of these things, but at some point you really.. changed. It was only a month ago, when we would start to fight more often. I was really convinced you would leave me, but then-“, you cut yourself off, averting your eyes.

Jaemin tilted his head, “so I was an asshole?”

You looked back at him and couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. “Jaemin”, you smacked his shoulder playfully.

“Only an idiot would do leave someone like you”, Jaemin mumbled, shaking his head at himself.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “I mean, you’re still here right.”

“And I always will be”, Jaemin smiled, grabbing your hand and giving it a light squeeze.

At this moment it felt as if the Jaemin you had once met at the park at night sat in front of you again. Not the Jaemin he had turned to before he had the accident, but the Jaemin that looked at you as if you were his whole world.

You unconsciously leaned in closer, Jaemin now only inches away. His expression was of a mixture of fear and adoration.

Jaemin didn’t dare to move or lean in closer, he was scared. Scared he would hurt you again. Panicking, he lowered his head, dodging your kiss. “We should sleep, it’s late”, he mumbled, letting go of your hand and lying down.

You watched him with a sad expression, watched how he shut off just like he did back then. And somehow it hurt even more now. Was it because you had crossed a line? Asking something from Jaemin he wasn’t ready for?

Without another word you put your book aside, lying down aswell and hoping that tomorrow was gonna be better.

—

“Jaemin listen”, your sharp voice cut through the noise of the engine, Jaemin sighed as his grip around the steering wheel tightened.

“I don’t want to talk about it, we’ve had this before”, Jaemin answered, seemingly annoyed.

“There you go again, shutting off whenever I want to talk it out”, you shrugged, staring at Jaemin’s side profile as his eyes were focused on the street.

It was night and you were driving home from dinner. It was an evening he had planned out so well once, your one year anniversary. But the plan he had a few weeks ago just didn’t seem right anymore.

“If you can’t accept me the way I am then maybe we should stop it”, Jaemin suddenly spoke out. You couldn’t believe his words, couldn’t believe that your Jaemin was capable of saying something like this so easily.

“No, that’s wrong. Jaemin, you can’t do that.”

Jaemin let out a short laugh. “See? That’s the problem. You won’t let me do anything. To you I’m so perfect. Perfect Jaemin”, he explained with a loud voice. “But I don’t want to be that anymore.”

A tear rolled down your cheek. “So you say you wanna break up, because you can’t bear me trying to help you.”

“Help?” Jaemin took a quick glance at you, his focus quickly going back to the street. “When did you ever help me, huh?”

“What do you mean? I told you to start taking photography seriously. I told you to stop smoking, so many times. And you told me you were thankful. Was that all for nothing? Was it all just a lie?”

Jaemin was silent, his head spinning. You turned away from him. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Na Jaemin. I can’t believe I spent so much time on you. On loving you”, you muttered.

“What did you just say”, Jaemin sounded surprised, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Just let me out, for God’s sake”, you shouted. Jaemin stepped on the brake, the car coming to a quick halt.

You were about to unbuckle your seat belt, taking one last look at Jaemin. He was staring at you, as hurt as you. “I- I’m sorry”, you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I’m sorry for believing we were meant to be.”

Just when something flickered in Jaemin’s eyes, your gaze wandered behind him. It seemed like time had stopped in that moment, when two headlights came closer and closer until they fully illuminated your car.

You and Jaemin looked at each other and then the car hit you.

Jaemin who hadn’t buckled his seatbelt out of anger hit his head several times, unlike you.

Jaemin opened his hand a few times. One time when the ambulance had just arrived and his eyes wandered to your figure that was still in the damaged car.

Another time when they transported him down the hallways of the hospital. Several nurses and doctors shouting and talking.

“Stay with me Mr. Na. Stay with me”, a male voice shouted. Jaemin would always recognize Jeno, the nurse that took care of him the most in those days in the hospital that followed.

And then one time when he was already in his private room in the hospital and you were there beside him, crying. “Jaemin you can’t leave me. Please”, you sobbed, your warm fingers gently trailing along his arm. And that’s when everything went black until he woke up with amnesia.

Lying close to you, feeling your heart beating and I'm wondering what you're dreaming Wondering if it's me you're seeing

Jaemin halted next to the River, listening in on the sweet tunes from the busker nearby. He walked up to the young man, who stood alone in the park at midnight, singing his heart out.

He smiled to himself, the familiar melody warming his heart a little. He looked around, stopping on the figure on the right side of the busker. On you.

In a quick moment your eyes met and something inside Jaemin told him that everything was gonna be alright. All his grey days would become so bright and colorful.

And like that, like the little switch that turned when he saw you for the first time, all his memories came flooding back.

—

Jaemin sat up in bed, breathing heavily and sweating. Startled you turned on the light, moving closer to put one arm around him.

“What’s wrong Jaemin”, you asked concerned, rubbing his back gently to comfort him.

Jaemin’s breath was still shaky. “I had a dream”, he muttered, still trying to calm his beating heart. Jaemin turned to you, his eyes full of love and emotions.

“What”, you asked again, not knowing what was going on. Jaemin smiled, a tear building in the corner of his eye.

“I love you. I love you so much”, he smiled, embracing you tightly. You were still a bit confused from his sudden reaction. “I love you too Jaemin, always will.”

“I’m sorry for doubting we weren’t meant to be”, Jaemin whispered against your neck. You mouth fell open, but Jaemin didn’t let go off you, only hugging you tighter.

“Jaemin”, you whispered, at loss of words.

“I remember, I remember it all”, he cried, moving back so he could look at your eyes. “I love you so much and I wanna thank you for sticking with me for so long. For not giving up on me”, Jaemin confessed, feeling absolutely overwhelmed.

You didn’t know whether to cry or smile, your heart felt like it healed again. “I missed you so much Jaemin.”

Jaemin held you against his chest again, gently stroking your back like he always did whenever you were sad. He was back, your Jaemin was finally back.

“I’m not gonna leave you ever again, I promise”, Jaemin softly spoke, planting a kiss on top of your head.

“I know.”

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

a/n: this one has been in my draft for ages.. and finally I finished it hehe :3 I hope you enjoy it and I also wish you a nice weekend! Btw I’m also working on all the requests ;)

#nct #nct jaemin #na jaemin fluff #na jaemin x you #na jaemin x reader #na jaemin #na jaemin angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct u #nct dream #nct fluff #nct angst #jaemin #jaemin angst #jaemin oneshot #jaemin x reader #jaemin fluff

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 8)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 3k

warnings: smut (semi-public sex), possessiveness (some sexual, some not), jealousy, some fluff and some angst, also some violence (including a very small amount against the reader, proceed with caution), mentions of infidelity in a previous relationship

a/n: oh y’all thought it was gonna be smooth sailing from here on out? lol

You didn’t want to abandon Bucky to do carpetside interviews, but he refused to get anywhere near a hot mic so you let him go while you walked over to a reporter you recognized; she’d been nice before, probably would be again this time, so you were a little relieved to see her tonight.

She introduced you to the camera and you were slightly spaced out until she turned to you and got your attention again. “So, you’ve been making a lot of headlines lately for your new relationship— what’s the scoop? How’s it going?” she asked playfully, pushing the microphone into your face.

“Uh, great,” you breamed, “he’s my date tonight and he seems to have disappeared to…” you turned around to look for him. “Oh, he’s talking to... is that... Laurence Fishburne?”

“James, is that his name?” she prompted, making you focus your attention back on the interview.

“Um, yeah,” you nodded, the name sounding a bit foreign, “legally, but he goes mostly by his nickname Bucky.”

“Aw, that’s cute,” she smiled. “He’s, uh…” her eyes widened a bit and you laughed.

“Yeah, he is,” you smirked. “I assume by that facial expression you mean ‘crazy hot.’”

“I mean, in the politest way possible… yeah,” she giggled.

“Yeah, no, don’t pretend not to notice for my sake, cause, yeah, it’s… apparent.”

“Apparently he was your driver first?” she pressed.

“Yes!” you beamed, and then heard the way it sounded and backpedaled slightly. “I promise that’s not why I hired him. I actually didn’t meet him before he was on my team, but, I mean, I wasn’t mad to have some eye candy in the front seat.”

“Eye candy, huh?”

“But he’s so much more than that, that’s the thing,” you explained. “We became good friends first, because he’s so smart and funny and kind and… I mean, I know he looks tough, and he is, but he’s really very sensitive underneath the slightly intimidating exterior.”

“Hard shell, soft center, sweet— he really does sound like candy!”

“Indeed,” you nodded. “Gotta run but it was nice to chat!”

You dashed over to Bucky and clung onto his arm. “Oh, hey, we were just talking about you,” he beamed.

“Loved you in After Midnight,” Mr. Fishburne smiled and even you were totally starstruck.

“Oh, wow, thanks, I loved you in… everything…” you trailed off, internally scolding yourself for the vague and useless compliment. He was about to respond but was pulled away by some member of his team, giving you and Bucky a quick wave as he began a carpet-side interview.

“That was Laurence Fishburne, wasn’t it.” Bucky mumbled to you in a stunned monotone.

“Yes, what were you doing talking to him?” you asked, amazed at his bravery to approach such a huge star.

“He came up to me, to congratulate me on… on dating you, I guess…”

“Or he mixed you up with Brad Pitt,” you shrugged.

“Yeah, if Brad Pitt lost all his money, spent a decade in the desert, went loco and buzzed all his hair off,” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Oh come on, you look great,” you soothed him, straightening his tie. “Wanna go take some pictures?”

“I’m a little scared,” he admitted with a shy smile.

“It’s easy, just give them that sexy brooding look you do so well.”

Bucky smirked pridefully. “You think so?”

“Totally. You’re a natural,” you assured.

You tugged his arm and guided him to the carpet, letting him lead the way (or look like he was leading the way) as you found a clear spot and noticed how the cameras instantly flashed faster and brighter. Photographers called your name to get your attention, and you waved and smiled and pulled Bucky closer. The feeling of his arm around your waist was warm and comforting, and you hoped holding you had the same effect for him.

“Where are you looking?” you asked.

“At you,” he answered.

“Bucky,” you giggled, “you’re supposed to look at the cameras!”

“I honestly can’t, it’s blinding,” he frowned.

“Here,” you sighed, pointing out into the darkness just above the sea of flashing lights. “Look out there.”

“I can’t see anything!”

“I know, but, look as if there was something there to look at, trust me, it helps.”

You adjusted slightly a few times, turning a little to show off the low back of your dress. You almost gasped when Bucky held your face and kissed you suddenly, but you were happy to melt into it even as you heard the cameras flash even more aggressively, some whoops and hollers coming from the crowd on and off the carpet.

He pulled back and you wanted to chase him for more but you realized it wasn’t the right time.

“Let’s go inside,” you offered, guiding him the rest of the way down the carpet— mainly because you were afraid you’d end up jumping his bones right here in front of everyone.

He nodded and followed close by, arm resting on your shoulder the whole time, and just as you saw one of your friends and thought you might want to go over and introduce her to Bucky, you saw who she was talking to.

Sam.

Seeing him always made your heart stop. At first, it was because you were starstruck by him, in awe of his talent, amazed that you were going to be working with someone you admired so much. Then it was because you had fallen for him and he had gladly swept you off your feet, bringing you into a whirlwind romance that at the time had felt like the only thing that mattered. But since the break-up, and now, it was something else. Fear wasn’t the word, it’s not like you were afraid of him in a literal sense, but there was this anxiety, this tenseness to seeing him. It always brought back memories— the best and the worst, all at once. Nights laughing together, sharing secrets, stealing glances and touches and kisses; nights spent alone staring at a phone that never rang. Limbs tangled together between the sheets, that warm brown skin encompassing and surrounding yours; laying side by side in a bed that isn’t empty but is still plenty cold, seeing the way he angles his phone away from you and wishing you had the strength to just leave because you already knew what he was doing. The first time you said ‘I love you.’ The first time he said ‘it won’t happen again.’

“You alright?” Bucky asked, tearing you from your thoughts. You looked away and met Bucky’s gaze, hoping he either hadn’t seen your ex or at least hadn’t recognized him.

“Yeah, I’m great,” you answered quickly, “let’s go get some drinks maybe? And then I need to show you off to some people.”

“Show me off?” he scoffed.

“Yeah, why did you think I brought you here, really?” you winked.

“Hey, if we’re showing each other off, does that mean you’ll come to my next high school reunion?”

You’d been antsy ever since the two of you had come inside; it was obvious from the way you were clinging so much closer to him, and yet it was clear that your mind was a million miles away.

“Hey, it’s starting to wrap up, wanna head out soon?” you asked, trying to act casual, but he saw the way your eyes were darting up to where Sam Wilson was mingling and he knew it wasn’t about getting home early. Did you really think he wouldn’t notice that you’d seen him?

“Whatever you wanna do,” he shrugged.

“Okay, could you bring the car around for me then? And I’ll meet you outside?” you offered. “I should say hi and bye to a few people.”

“Sure,” he agreed, starting to walk away after giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

And he really did try to do what he said he was going to, but the further away he walked, the more he glanced back to watch you walk across the room, the harder it was to just let it go. He knew you were going to talk to him, and before he really even decided to do anything about it he found himself circling back around the room, following you.

He thought he’d lost you when he turned a corner and you were gone, but then he heard voices from a doorway and cracked it open slightly to see you inside with a few other people, nobody he recognized although one of them he’d definitely seen in something before.

He sighed with relief, about to turn and go get the car like he said he would, but then Sam Wilson just had to magically materialize out of thin air as he stepped up behind you and tapped your shoulder.

“Sam!” you blurted out, spinning to face him with wide eyes.

“Hey,” he greeted, acting all suave and shit, making Bucky’s blood boil. “You look great.”

“Oh, thanks,” you mumbled, “you too.”

“You’ve been all over the internet lately, making quite the splash,” he recalled with a contemplative nod. “You and this new boytoy you’ve got.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is boyfriend,” you corrected sternly.

“Honey,” he scoffed as he rolled his eyes. Bucky couldn’t decide if it was worse to hear him call you a pet name in earnest or with the derogatory tone that he currently had. “Everybody knows you go through these guys like potato chips. Especially when they’re not famous— how many PAs did you hook up with on your last set, huh?”

“I don’t roll like that anymore,” you denied.

“That’s not what Jake Friedman says,” Sam smirked. It actually took Bucky a moment to remember that that was the guy you’d… entertained in the backseat of your car, or maybe it was more that he had entertained you; you seemed to tense up when Sam mentioned him, as did Bucky. “I mean, sure, he’s not crew, but he’s not famous the way you are. The way we are. And neither is your new guy. He doesn’t ‘get it’, does he? He doesn’t get what it’s like. Has he already started freaking out about all the hate online?”

Bucky regretted that he’d ever said anything about that; if he’d known it would come around to prove Sam Wilson right about something, he wouldn’t have done it. “No,” you lied.

“Well, he will,” Sam assured you, stepping a little closer to you and letting his fingers languidly brush over your arm. “I made a mistake before, letting you go.”

“Damn right,” you hissed as you pulled away from him.

“But I realized that, and now I’m wondering why we aren’t giving the people what they want.”

“That’s what I never understood about you,” you frowned. “It’s always about other people with you. It’s never about you, and it was never about me.”

“But it is about you,” he explained, “and me: us. You’re forgetting how good we were together.”

You shook your head. “I was single for years and you never called. Now you’re all over me with all these regrets about ending it? Get a grip, Sam. This is about you wanting what you can’t have.”

“Can’t have?” he repeated incredulously. “Baby,” he purred— and Bucky decided it was definitely worse to hear him call you that in earnest. “You know you’re always gonna be mine.”

As you started to shiver, Sam’s arms slipping around your back and grabbing your waist, Bucky felt like he had lost control of his body. He was watching himself from far away as he stormed across the room, nearly knocking a few people over on the way, and shoved Sam off of you and onto the ground.

“Bucky!” you yelped. “Bucky, stop!”

“You’d better watch your hands, Wilson, before they get somewhere they’re not supposed to be,” Bucky growled, ignoring you completely even as you helplessly tugged at his suit.

“Jesus,” Sam spat, “the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What are you doing?” you asked Bucky, irate and confused as you stared up at him with a furrowed brow. He grabbed your hand and guided you out of the room and down the hall, barely managing to drag you into a random bathroom before he started tearing at your dress, leaving rough bites and kisses down your neck as you gasped and moaned softly.

“Mine,” he mumbled against your skin, “all mine. Did you forget?”

“No,” you sighed, “I could never…”

“That’s not what it looked like,” he sneered, hiking up your long skirt to run his fingers over your skin and expose the delicate, lacy panties you were wearing.

“Bucky, please,” you sighed, rubbing your hips up against his leg, riding his thigh shamelessly.

“What’s got you so worked up, baby? Is it me, or him?” he asked darkly.

“You, baby, just you, nobody else— I’m yours,” you assured him feverishly, “I’m all yours, please, I need you.”

“Yeah?” he breathed, fumbling with his belt and fly as he pulled his growing cock from his suit pants. “You need it that bad?”

“Please,” you sobbed, “fuck me.”

He pulled your underwear aside and quickly shoved into you, groaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to welcome him. “Fuck, angel, so tight,” he sighed, knowing how much little praises drove you crazy.

“Bucky,” you sighed, “oh my god… harder, please— n-need you deeper…”

His hips moved back only to slam back against yours, making you whimper; he smiled when he felt your leg wrap around his waist and try to hold him inside, but he couldn’t slow down now, not when he needed this so bad.

He sucked on your neck as he kept thrusting into you, your wetness coating his cock so thoroughly that he slid right home every time. It was clear that he was hitting your g-spot from how you moaned with each thrust, your spongy channel pulsing and tightening in rhythmic patterns.

Overcome with the need to assert his, for lack of a better word, ownership over you, he found himself reaching up to hold your throat— not quite in the way to choke you, just to remind you that he could, if he wanted to.

“Did he ever make you come like this?” he asked with a gravelly whisper, lips right against your ear as he tightened his hand around your neck slightly.

“No,” you shook your head, “nobody has.”

“Nobody’s ever loved you this good but me, is that it? Nobody else has ever fucked you like this?”

“Just you, Bucky, please don’t stop— I’m so close…”

“Do you think they can hear you out in the hallway? Say my name when you come, princess, just in case they can— I want them to know who’s making you feel this good.”

“Bucky,” you whined, chanting it over and over with a few ‘yes’s and ‘fuck’s interspersed occasionally. He thrusted faster and harder as he felt his own orgasm building; he needed to come inside you and claim you again, mark you as his one more time, and the flexing of your walls was only egging him on.

“I know you’re close, baby, just let go,” he whispered against your ear, “come for me, just like that, you’re doing so good— fuck, so good for me…”

You whimpered and clutched at his shoulders, a gush of wetness and a final, strong tightening of your inner muscles signaling that you’d reached your peak. He couldn’t hold back any longer when he saw (and felt) that, groaning as he began to release thick streams of come into you.

The absolute second your afterglow began to fade, you pushed him off of you and grimaced as you adjusted your panties and dress. "The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Wh— what?" he stammered, breathless and confused. "What did I do? Was I not supposed to come inside?"

You gaped at him in shock. "Do you really not realize what you did? Bucky, you assaulted my ex-boyfriend."

"I— he'll be fine," he dismissed, "he was putting his hands on you, what was I supposed to do, just let him do it?"

"You were supposed to let me handle it," you hissed. "You were supposed to be pulling the car around and not spying on me!"

"Spying?! I was protecting you."

"You shoved him hard enough to knock him over, Bucky, that's not okay."

"Hold on," he shook his head in disbelief, "so you're mad at me, when we just had sex?! Why didn't you say something before?"

"Just cause it's hot doesn't mean it's okay," you explained, a little embarrassed.

"Tell me something," he frowned, "what is this—" he motioned to the space between the two of you— "to you? Cause it kinda seems like I think we're boyfriend and girlfriend, and you think—"

"What? What do I think?" you challenged. "Go ahead, tell me."

"You think it's just a sex thing."

"Oh my god," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, what am I supposed to think when you get off on me dealing with your ex, and then tell me it's this big terrible thing?"

A sick idea clawed its way out of the back of Bucky's mind: was Sam right about her? Was Sam right about us?

You crossed your arms and huffed, but didn't respond.

"Was everything that just happened just a fuckin' kink for you or something? Cause I meant every goddamn word," he growled.

You sighed, like you weren't taking it seriously— like you weren't taking him seriously. His fist tightened at his side involuntarily. He'd never felt so used, so ignored; or, at least, he never expected it from you. "We'll talk about this later," you dismissed quickly. "Let's just go back there and put on a happy face, okay?"

"Oh, so you can let another guy feel you up? Sounds like a fucking blast," he hissed.

"Fuck you," you snarled as you pushed him aside to leave the bathroom.

He didn't remember grabbing you, he didn't remember twisting your arm as he pulled you back. He didn't remember you crying out, trying to wrench yourself away, clawing at his grip on you. All he remembered was you looking up at him with watery eyes, expression twisted in fear.

"Bucky, you're hurting me," you whimpered weakly, and only then did he notice his metal hand was holding your wrist. When he let go, he already saw a mark forming in the shape of his hand as you grabbed your freed wrist to rub the damaged flesh.

"I'm sorry—" he began to whisper, but you were already gone.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader series #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes smut

691 notes · View notes

4stars-uswnt · 3 years

Text

My Muse, My Valentine [Christen Press x Reader]

requested by anon: Not sure if you’re accepting any request but can you write a cp x photographer gf where her gf surprised her at man u, like her gf secretly transfer there to be with cp. Thanks

A/N: please ignore some of the inconsistencies this story has with reality :) but anyways... hope you enjoy and have a happy Valentine’s Day (tomorrow) and remember it’s a day about LOVE, whether that be romantic, platonic, familial, or self ❤️

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whine, as you watch your girlfriend pack her suitcase.

“I know, babe. I’m gonna miss you too, so much.” Christen leans down to quickly peck your lips, before continuing to fold her clothes.

You and Christen had been dating for almost three years now, having met after you’d photographed one of the USWNT’s matches. You instantly felt an attraction to the curly-haired forward, your camera always drifting towards her wherever she was on the pitch.

After you’d posted a couple of your photos on your Instagram, which Christen made a point to like and repost, you gathered up the courage to approach her after a game, and thus began your relationship.

With yours and Christen’s busy schedules, it was sometimes hard to find time for each other, but you made it work, sharing an apartment in Portland during the offseason and flying out for matches when you could. But being a sports photographer did have its benefits, as your work often led you to spending more time with your girlfriend and admiring her speed down the field and score goals.

But now, with the pandemic, as the NWSL was struggling to field games, you found yourself with little work. Christen herself was not quite satisfied with the league’s plan for the season, so when Tobin proposed the idea of going to the WSL, she desperately wanted to, yearning to get back on the pitch.

At first, when Christen approached you with the subject, you immediately opposed, not wanting to be so far from your girlfriend for such a long amount of time. Additionally, with COVID, it would be nearly, if not completely, impossible for you to visit. But after a blowout fight and discussing it further, you realized that this is what would be best for Christen and her career.

“Do you have to go?” You pout, sitting up and moving to the end of the bed.

“You know I do, (Y/N/N).” Christen playfully rolls her eyes.

“Humph.”

“Babe, come on, don’t make me feel worse about leaving you.”

“Then don’t,” you quip, grabbing your girlfriend by the waist, pulling her down on the bed with you.

“Babe!” Christen squeals, as you blow raspberries into her skin.

You lift your head from the crook of her neck, your eyes locking with hers. “I know that you have to go,” you admit seriously. “Doesn’t mean I like it, but I know that this is what’s best for your career.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” she says earnestly, giving you a small smile. “We’ll text and FaceTime everyday.”

“I’m holding you to that.” You cup her face and bring her in for a kiss, savoring the feeling of her soft lips on yours. “I also know that you’re gonna kill it over there in Manchester. The WSL isn’t gonna know what hit them.”

Christen ducks her bashfully, a small blush arising on her cheeks. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course, Chris. I love you, too.”

“Good.” She gives you a quick peck, as she gets up from the bed. “Now, either quit bothering me or help me. My flight is early tomorrow morning, and I haven’t even finished packing.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

—————

It had been a little over five months since you’d dropped Christen off at the airport and she left for Manchester. Despite the constant texting and the nightly FaceTime calls, you couldn’t help but ache for your girlfriend. Without her, the apartment was lonelier and the bed felt bigger.

It had helped that your work had started back up, first with some freelance work and then with the NWSL fall series starting, which gave you something to do and kept you fairly busy.

Currently, you were sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping on a cup of coffee, as you edited some photos for the Thorns. Just as you were saving your work and closing Lightroom, about to shut your computer, a ping alerts a new email in your inbox.

Switching tabs, you notice the message is from an unfamiliar address, so you presume it’s a new client. You click and open it, your eyes widening, as you scan the email:

Ms. (Y/L/N),

I noticed your professional portfolio through many referrals, particularly your work form the World Cup. I am writing on behalf of the BBC News Media Centre, and we’re looking for an excellent sports photographer to join the team, specifically to cover the FA Women’s Super League and the Premier League.

Your experience is outstanding, adn your work speaks for itself. I think you’d be a great fit for this role, and I’d love to tell you more about it and hear more from you.

Would you like to set up a phone or Zoom call soon? If so, let me know when you’re available.

Best,

Charles Smith

Director of Media Relations at BBC Sport

You quickly reread the email, and then reread it again, just to make sure you’re not dreaming. This was too good to be true. But you shake yourself out of your stupor and quickly type out a response to set up a phone call as soon as possible.

After hitting send, you shut your computer with excitement and throw your hands up in the air.

“Yes!” You exclaim into the empty apartment, as you throw your fist in the air and jump off the barstool.

Knowing you needed to distract yourself, otherwise you’d just be staring at your computer, eagerly awaiting the response, you decided to go on a run.

Jogging through the city, you think of your girlfriend and your potential reunion if this job offer worked out. You decided that if you did in fact take this position, you’d surprise Christen at one of her matches, hopefully one that you’d be able to photograph.

As soon as you arrive back in your apartment, you make a beeline for your laptop. You anxiously open your inbox and beam when you see Charles had replied to set up a Zoom call at 9:30 tomorrow morning. You excitedly type out pleasantries, telling him you’re looking forward to it.

For the rest of the afternoon, you were in an increasingly good mood. So later that evening, when Christen called you for your routine FaceTime, she could tell something was up.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?”

“Can I not be happy to talk to my girlfriend?” You tease, a huge grin plastered onto your face.

“You can,” Christen trails off, not quite believing you. “But you have the weird giddy look you get when something’s up?”

“Nothing’s up. Just had a good day,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“Okay,” the forward accepts, still eyeing you suspiciously. “Anyways, you know She Believes is in a couple weeks, are you working the tournament?”

“Yup,” you nod and make a mental note to mention that to Charles tomorrow.

The two of you continue updating each other, chatting about topics ranging from what you had for breakfast that day to re-inc’s upcoming drop.

“Alright,” Christen yawns. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

You check your phone and see it’s 5:37 pm, meaning it’s almost midnight in Manchester.

“Okay,” your eyes softening at the sight of your sleepy girlfriend. “Good night, Chris. I love you.”

“Love you, too, babe. G’night.”

After ending the call and shutting your laptop, you head into the kitchen to make some dinner for yourself, getting on with your evening.

—————

The next morning, you anxiously await for Charles to begin the Zoom call, nervously bouncing your knee and biting your lip.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Charles greets, his face appearing on your screen.

“Good morning. Or rather good afternoon?” You correct with a light chuckle, to which he reciprocates.

“Well, as you know from my email, we are looking for a photographer to join our team, and from many referrals, you seem to be a very good candidate,

“So, I was thinking maybe we could look at your portfolio really quickly and then hash out the logistics to see if this is something that could work out.”

“Sounds good,” you agree, as you pull up some of your best pictures and share your screen.

The two of you look through your photos, many from the 2019 World Cup, some of the Olympics, and a few from random NWSL games.

“Well, (Y/N), your work is quite impressive. If you’re ready, and you’re seriously interested in this position, we can talk specifics, scheduling, all that good stuff,” Charles offers.

“I’m definitely interested, but can I just preface by saying that my girlfriend is a major part of this decision, so depending on what she wants to do at the end of the season will impact my contract.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows, clearly not expecting your candor. “Your girlfriend plays in the WSL?”

“Yeah, well, technically only for this season. Her contract is up in May,” you explain.

“(Y/N), to be completely frank, we’re looking to hire because a couple of our photographers had some personal issues due to COVID and had to leave mid-season,” Charles reveals. “So if it turns out that your girlfriend wants to go back to the NWSL, then we can work that out. And if she wants to stay, and you end up liking it here and you fit in well, we can also work that out. We’re pretty flexible.”

You sigh in relief, giving him a small smile. “Wow, thank you so much. So what would my contract look like?”

“Well, we can sign you to three month contract with the option for extension,” he offers, as you nod along enthusiastically.

“That sounds great,” you exclaim, beaming. “And just to let you know, I’ve already signed on to work the She Believes tournament from the 18th to the 21st.”

“That actually aligns with the WSL’s international break, and there are a couple Premier League matches that weekend, but I think we can manage, so that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“You guys are too kind and so flexible. I really appreciate it so much,” you say earnestly.

“It’s really just us being desperate for a good photographer,” Charles jokes.

“Either way, I’m grateful for this opportunity.”

“We’re excited for you to join our team,” he reciprocates. “So, in terms of when you’ll begin, I honestly would like you to come over as soon as possible so that you can get settled and get acclimated.”

“I am honestly ready to start whenever you’ll have me.”

“How about next week? The Manchester Derby is on Friday, and honestly, given your portfolio, I’d love you to photograph that match,” the British man admits.

“That’s perfect!” You were in complete awe of how perfectly everything was working out. Photographing a Man United match as your first job meant you could surprise Christen, maybe as an early Valentine’s gift.

“Great,” Charles smiles.

The two of you discuss and finalize your contract and the logistics of you starting the job. Once everything’s settled and you each have the information you need, you wrap up the call.

“Well, thank you so much, Charles, for this offer, and I can’t wait to see you next Tuesday.”

“I can’t wait to work with you and meet you. See you next week. Cheers.”

After ending the Zoom call, you begin to make a COVID test appointment, book your flight, and arrange your hotel room for the few days that Christen doesn’t know you’re there, preparing yourself for moving across the world.

—————

After landing in London, getting settled into your hotel, and meeting with the BBC team and the other photographers, you were now on your way to the Manchester Derby.

In the back of the black cab, you pull out your phone to text a good luck text to Christen.

It was difficult to keep your surprise a secret, especially when you were actually in England, because it was much more difficult to FaceTime without her noticing your change in setting. You had to make up the excuse that you were swarmed with editing and preparing for the upcoming Thorns trainings.

As you pull up to the Academy Stadium, you hear your phone ding.

Chris ❤️

Thanks babe. Miss and love you 😘

You quickly type out a response, before heading into the building.

(Y/N/N) 💗

Love you too. I miss u too but go kick butt.

The match was exhilarating. Not only were you a sports photographer, but you were also a huge fan of the game, enjoying a good game when you see one.

You watched in awe, the level and style of play significantly different from than NWSL. While snapping hundreds of photos of both teams, your camera would always somehow land back on your girlfriend.

Your heart ached for the curly-haired forward, as you missed her dearly. Until you saw her back on the pitch, you hadn’t really realized that you missed watching her play the game that she’d mastered, her movements around the pitch and on the ball effortless and elegant.

As the ref blew the whistle, signaling the end of the half, you scroll through some of the photos you’d taken, deleting some of the blurry and unfocussed ones.

A smile immediately forms on your face when you see a picture of Christen during warmups with a huge grin on her face. You spend all of halftime editing said photo and putting together an Instagram post for your girlfriend.

About fifteen minutes later, the teams take the pitch and you go back to doing your job. Throughout the second half, you could tell that Christen was getting increasingly frustrated, her team getting down 3-0 with only about five minutes left.

You watch as the players high five and hug each other, and you want nothing more than to run onto the field to be with your girlfriend, but you had a plan to stick to.

As the team goes back into the locker room, you pull out your phone to post a photo on Instagram and then you shoot a quick text to Tobin:

(Y/N)🤓:

toby go check out my ig post :))

Back in the Man United locker room, after Casey went through her post match speech, Tobin checks her phone and sees a text from you. The injured forward playfully rolls her eyes at your message but follows your directions.

Upon opening the social media app, Tobin raises her eyebrows, her eyes widening. She glances across the room to see if her best friend had seen your post, but Christen was minding her own business, changing into sweats after her shower.

“Chris!” The older forward calls over to the other woman. “Have you seen your girlfriend’s Instagram post?”

Christen furrows her brows in confusion. “What? No, what is it?”

Tobin waves her friend over and shows her the post:

Liked by mrapinoe, ashlynharris24, and 638,231 others

yourusername: My muse, my valentine.

“As I sat and looked at her

and the rolling hills she sat upon

I thought,

what amazing luck I have

that the world had created

such beautiful things

and given me the eyes to see them.”

- atticus

tagged: christenpress

- - - - -

mrapinoe: Stunning pictures, (Y/N). Love you guys 💖

alikrieger: These photos are 🔥🔥🔥🔥

alexmorgan13: love this 😍😍

cdunn19: Beautiful!

glennondoyle: Love love love love this!!

ashlynharris24: Holy shit! Are you in Manchester????

↳lavellerose: Was this today??

↳sammymewyy: Oh my gosh it was!

↳kellyohara: Valentine’s Day surprise for Pressy?? 👀

Christen zooms in on the photo in the center, her eyes widening when she realizes that it is from today’s match.

“How did she get that picture?”

Tobin mentally slaps her forehead at her friend’s denseness. “Knowing (Y/N), she probably took it.”

“But that’s impossible. She’s in the States,” Christen states and shakes her head, dumbfounded.

“Actually,” you speak up, stepping into the locker room, deciding to make your presence known. “I’m right here.”

“(Y/N)?” Your girlfriend looks up at you, her mind in a state of shock.

“Hey, love,” you greet shyly.

Once her mind caught up with reality, Christen runs and jumps into your body, kissing you passionately but briefly and wrapping you into a bone crushing hug.

“I can’t believe your here,” she whispers into your neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, babe, so much.”

Unwrapping herself from the hug, Christen stares at you in awe. “What… how are you here?”

“We can talk about that later,” you give her another quick kiss. “But right now, I just wanna spend time with you. Maybe we can grab some dinner? You can show me around Manchester, considering I’m gonna be spending a lot of time here.”

Your girlfriend looks at you puzzled, but you just give her a wink with a small smirk on your face.

“Well, c’mon lets get out of here.”

—————

Back at Christen’s apartment, the two of you sit down for a nice and casual, but romantic, dinner you’d prepared along with a bottle of red wine.

After catching up, the forward finally decides to address the elephant in the room. “So how are you here? What’s going on, (Y/N/N)? You said earlier that you’d be spending a lot of time in Manchester, what does that mean? I’m so confused. Not that I’m grateful that you’re here right now and that I get to see you, but I thought you were working She Believes, and—“

“Chris,” you cut off your girlfriend’s endearing rambling. “Babe, you’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” she blushes, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“I got a job with BBC Sport till the end of the season,” you answer her parade of questions.

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

You nod, while taking a sip of your water. “It means I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

Not having the adequate words to express her joy and excitement, Christen gets up from her chair, walks over to sit in your lap, and connects you lips for a searing kiss.

“I can’t believe you,” she breathes, rubbing her nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you quickly peck her lips while rubbing circles on her hip. “But as much as I love you and all this romance, we gotta get going soon.”

Your girlfriend tilts her head in confusion.

“Do the words ‘She Believes’ ring a bell?” You tease. “If I remember correctly, our flight leaves in a couple hours.”

“You’re coming with me?” Christen asks, her brain trying to wrap around the fact that her girlfriend, who she hadn’t seen in almost five months, would now be living with her in England and flying back to the States with her for the next week.

“Of course, Chris,” you give her a cheeky smile, along with a kiss to her nose, as you quote a book Becky had convinced the whole team to read. “You should know by now that I’d follow you anywhere. You’re the only good thing left in this world.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #christen press x reader #christen press imagine #christen press imagines #uswnt #christen press

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