#* (&&. dash games) for tonight we shall dance and laugh all together ; one last time . | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nazyalenskyism · 3 years ago

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Alone Together

Summary: After observing the same mysterious stranger from afar at party after party, Zoya finds herself swept into a familiar sort of dance, but for the first time in her life she finds herself faced with an equally capable partner. A/N: This fic is based on song, if you send me an ask with a prompt and your guess, I'll write a short fic for whoever gets it right first! This has been sitting in my drafts for a very long time, I really hope you like it! Ao3: Alone Together There he was again, a flash of gold on the edge of the dance floor, a smile as bright as his hair illuminating the room. Keeping an eye on him over the rim of her glass she pondered for a moment, she had been coming to Morozova Foundation events since she was a child, at one point she’d been the belle of the ball, a prodigy touted around by the great entrepreneur himself. ‘ My talented pupil,’ was what he used to boast, well as much as his stoicism would allow. Zoya had once let herself be examined by a ballroom full of strangers, all clamoring for a look at her, trying to see what set her apart. At least until someone shinier had come along, that was. Then she’d been discarded as easily as yesterday’s paper and slowly she’d begun to see what he really was. A master manipulator, he’d played her for the fool she was, taking the only things she ever truly loved.

This stranger had begun making appearances at not just Morozova Foundation events, but at every event with even the slightest connection to the man. Usually this wouldn’t set off her alarm bells, many familiar faces would make the rounds at multiple parties but they were all Morozova’s mother’s age, usually none were as young as her and if they were then they belonged to a big name family. This man had no name she knew of, yet, and the way he worked the room, charmed the guests left and right was in a way not unlike her own. Zoya was entranced by the way he worked each table he sat down at, turning the grumpiest people she had ever encountered into putty in his hands. As intrigued as she was, she wasn’t going to let a pretty boy in a fancy jacket distract her from the task at hand. The man she had been conversing with all night, Mr.Kirigin had come back from a phone call and said nothing as she smiled sweetly, leading him to the quiet hall just outside the main ballroom. Kirigin was supposed to have information as to why Morozova had cancelled his appearance tonight at the last second, and lucky for her, from the second she stepped foot into the ballroom, the fool’s eyes had been transfixed on her.

Zoya pulled him towards an alcove in the wall between two ornate paintings, the gold of their frames reminding her just how gaudy this place was, how rich Kirigin was, he was throwing this party for Morozova’s foundation and money was clearly not an object. Yes, she was here to get information, but she wasn’t opposed to leaving with a little bit of financial compensation for her time either. She leaned back against the wall, watching Kirigin move towards her, fully enthralled by her and she nearly laughed, all men were really the same.

“What a beautiful time tonight has been, Mr.Kirigin.”

“Thank you, it took many endless nights of planning, or so my assistants tell me,” Zoya resisted the urge to smash his toes under her heel, what an ass.

“I would really like to thank whoever made it possible,” she slipped closer to him batting her eyelashes demurely, “I was looking forward to meeting the legendary Morozova too, why wasn’t he in attendance?”

“He said he had urgent business,” Kirigin moved as if to touch her hair, but Zoya grabbed his wrist instinctively.

“Where did he go?” she said abruptly, forgetting herself for a split second, just as someone coughed nearby. This hallway was supposed to be empty.

“I-- I don’t…” Kirigin took a step back, the trance quickly washing away. Shit, she couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” She made her voice honey sweet but the man still shook his head, taking another dazed step back from her when his phone buzzed, as if it fully snapped him out of it. He vanished back into the main ballroom as Zoya cursed to herself, how could she have let him get away so easily, she had been so close.

“Get it together,” she hissed. “Stop making rookie mistakes.”

“Talking to ourselves, are we now?” She whirled on her heel, she’d recognize that lilting voice anywhere, that bastard.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing, I’m just admiring the view.”

“That’s the best line you can come up with? How do you get the ladies to fall for that?”

“It works just fine, it doesn’t hurt when it comes from a mouth as pretty as this.”

“Trust me, it’s not pretty.”

“How long did you spend staring at my lips before arriving at that incorrect conclusion?”

Zoya scowled, “I don’t need to stare, I just assume every part of you is as insufferable as your personality.”

“How would you know my personality if I’ve never had the pleasure of talking to you?” He was next to her now, perfectly polished and dashing except for one stubborn strand of curled hair that only added to his boyish looks. She refused to think about how it made him all the more endearing, instantly understanding why all the rich women fawned over him. He was young, handsome, charming, witty and handed out compliments and praise in a way that was so sincere, no one could ever doubt his intentions. She had been watching him, not that she’d admit it but she was no fool, she couldn’t let some stranger waltz in under her nose and steal what she’d worked so hard for.

“I can sense inanities from miles away, and it seems your head is full of them.”

He pulled a face and she thought she’d finally wounded him into leaving her alone but the next thing she knew he was offering her his elbow with a gallant smile, “shall we take a walk?”

The estate was decorated lavishly for the party, not a single thing looked out of place. The gardens were strung with lights, even the tennis courts hadn’t been spared, with large outdoor tents concealing them from the French doors of the ballroom. Neither of them spoke as they made their way to the dancefloor, the guests had all moved back inside, the night being too chilly for their expensive fashions. Zoya let her mind wander as she kept up with the stranger's long strides— she’d refused to take his arm, she didn’t get that intimate until a man was giving her something worth more than a law school’s semester’s tuition. Then of course in the days following, he would never hear from her again. This man was clearly wealthy, though he spent time catering his attention to rich folk he evidently didn’t need it. You could often tell someone’s status based on the way they handled themselves. Most people didn’t practice as much as she had, from age 9 learning to carry herself as a queen would so that no one would ever doubt that she was anything less. The stranger had the posture and pose of a rich man’s son but there was something more to it— a light swagger-- as if he knew something no one else did, but he was perfectly fine being alone in that knowledge. A type of confidence she saw the partygoers try to emulate but something that they never could quite live up to. It was the ease of a man who had learned how to be free but a bird who was trapped in a cage again, desperately trying to get back to the skies.

“Can I have this dance?” The hall was packed, but most people were seated at the moment, only a few couples hurrying to the dancefloor before the next song started. She really didn’t want to dance with him, but she had lost her best chances tonight due to her own impatience and there was nothing left for her here. A woman the stranger had been chattering away with earlier in the night waved them over from a nearby table before she had a chance to respond, however.

“Mr.Lantsov, why haven’t I seen you on the dance floor yet, you said you were an excellent dancer, yet…” she trailed off as she finally noticed Zoya standing next to her precious, Mr.Lantsov, now where did she remember that name from?

“Yes ma’am my partner and I were just on our way there, as long as she agrees to dance?”

“Why wouldn’t she?” The woman glared at Zoya in a way that communicated that this man was the most desirable person at the party and she’d be a fool to turn him down. As stubborn as she was, she did not want to come across as a fool tonight.

“Dancing is a dangerous game, Mr. Lantsov,” she said, her eyes flicking to him to make sure he understood what she was saying. All he did was wink coyly at her before nodding to the woman and leading Zoya to the dancefloor. Fantastic.

“So, Miss…?” he began, taking her hand in his while the other wrapped around her waist, pulling her in close. She tried to repress the slight shudder as his fingers brushed against her exposed back. If she had planned on dancing today she definitely wouldn't have worn a backless dress. Although she couldn’t deny that he was handsome, at least she was dancing with the best looking person in the room… well, second best . She was showstopping and that was why all eyes were on them as she slipped her free hand onto his shoulder, curling against the smooth material of his jacket. Saints, his suit was at least three thousand dollars, his watch at least two thousand, and she didn’t even want to look at his shoes but she knew they probably cost more than her car.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Well, Miss ‘None of my Business’, what brings you here tonight?”

“Ooh, none of your business.”

“Are you having fun?”

“None of your business.”

“Intriguing! Is there anything that is my business?”

“No. Aren’t you tired yet?”

“No,” he grinned roguishly, “I don’t tire that easily.” Zoya turned her face quickly so he didn’t catch the blush colouring her cheeks. Thankfully he just kept talking. “Since you insist on being so mysterious, why don’t you ask me about myself?”

“Okay,” she looked up at him, how was he so tall? Even in her heels she had to look up into his eyes, eyes that were a brilliant emerald green with flecks of bronze. Before she forgot herself, she managed to grind out, “why are you here?”

“My family is expected to attend functions like this.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He let out a laugh as he spun her, gracefully catching her against him before they resumed their steps. They were nearly flush now, she could feel the heat radiating from him as he leaned in, “ let’s say, an old friend usually attends these sorts of things and I’m hoping to run into him.”

Zoya tried to bite back her surprise, could she be thinking of the same person? “And what did the old friend do to you to earn your visits? I’ve seen you at every event I’ve been to this month.”

He paused for a second as if weighing just how much he wanted to reveal to her. Good, at least he seemed to have a brain in that big head of his. “ I’ve been at university for the past few years and I came back once I heard he was planning on taking something of mine.”

“Oh, so not so much a friend, more like an enemy?”

“I don’t have enemies, Miss None of My—“

“Nazyalensky,” she supplied absentmindedly, she wanted to hear more of his story.

“ Nazyalensky… I don’t recall hearing that name before.”

“You probably forgot,” she said hurriedly, “I’m at every party and you’ve only just come back to town.” He didn’t need to know that she had only started using her last name again after her aunt died, hearing people associate her with her aunt’s maiden name had hurt too much. It helped that Morozova had only ever known her with that surname, it helped her disappear into crowds that had once marvelled at her and her skills. She’d stayed away from the social scene for a few years, watching from the outside, learning and perfecting her craft so that she would one day be ready to take him down.

“I remember most names and faces,” he mused, “and I would definitely remember someone as beautiful as you.”

Zoya rolled her eyes, she wasn’t that easy to woo. “I’ve been away from the scene for a while too, I’m also looking for an old friend, but he’s never here.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“You wouldn’t—“

“Trust me, he interrupted, “I would.”

“Morozova,” she blurted out, biting her tongue at how easily she’d let him uncover her secret. She needed to know if that’s who he meant too, and there was something about him that made him seem so sincere.

A shadow passed over his face and Zoya realized he hadn’t been expecting her to say that name. “Funny, he’s my ‘friend’ too.”

“Oh,” she mouthed softly, trying to step back as the music ended, but Mr. Lantsov kept a firm hand on her waist, his other hand slipping up to brush a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

“Perhaps we could speak outside?”

Zoya shook out her head, he may have dazed her for a second but she needed to call the shots again. She took his elbow as he released her tentatively, “lead the way, Mr. Lantsov.”

They had found their way back outside and Nazyalensky had yet to let go of him, her warm fingers pressed into his arm. He was fully aware of what she was doing, she had realized that since they had the same enemy, she could put on an act like she did with the people inside and get the information she needed from him. He admired her skill, most others didn’t get this far on tricks alone which meant that she had to hide something else as well. He also knew that as adept as she was, she hadn’t quite pinned him down yet. For one, he had seen her assess his worth, scanning him and figuring out the price tag of each item, but unfortunately for her, at the moment he was only worth a little more than the clothes on his back. From observing her at the last few events and staying at her side this night he found that he quite enjoyed being in her company. She was quick and clever, not unlike himself, and she knew just how to move, just what to say to get people to give her what she wanted, but as they conversed he found himself believing that she wasn’t putting up as much of a front with him. Perhaps it was a tactic to lower his guard, or maybe he only wanted to think she was being truthful for his own sake. He’d been at this game for a very, very long time and he was beginning to wonder what it would be like to not have to run alone for once.

“What did you think of tonight’s party? Even if you didn’t get exactly what you came for?”

“Maybe I didn’t get what I came for,” she said slowly, turning to face him, “but maybe I found what I needed.” Nikolai had to admit that she was very good at that, and had he been anyone but himself he would’ve gladly thrown himself into the grand fountains if she asked. Unfortunately for her, well maybe both of them, that’s not what he was looking for tonight. He simply smiled at her, taking the second before Nazyalensky spoke again to admire the way the silver moonlight illuminated her dress, creating a shimmering aura around her. She did look even more ethereal in the moonlight and even he was beginning to question his own ability to resist her.

“Well,” she drawled, finger running down his chest, “what do you think?” She looked up at him through thick lashes, the endless blue of her eyes threatening to drown him if he didn’t pull himself away.

Instead, he leaned in further, “I think,” he breathed, “that you’re playing a game I’m used to winning.” A genuine gasp flew from her lips as he grasped her wrist pulling it out from behind his back to reveal his wallet between her fingers.

“Nice try,” he smiled, “but I’m not that easy.”

“Oh yeah?” she scoffed, pulling at his lapel unceremoniously, her ornate sapphire hairpin tumbling into her awaiting palm. “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve.”

“I figured,” he pulled a large ruby tie pin from her inside her sleeve, each of them pulled out hidden treasures from the other, stumbling a step back when they realized they were both equally good at their game of choice.

“Have you ever considered a partnership, Nazyalensky?”

“In your dreams, Lantsov,” she leaned in, “you couldn’t keep up with me.” Her lips brushed against his skin with each word, slowly trailing down to the corner of his mouth, “even if you tried.” Turning on her heel, she was gone in a flash of silver leaving him alone in the tennis court, with nothing but the feeling of her lips grazing his skin.

“Hello?” The phone calls had begun a few weeks ago, the morning after he had been marked with red lipstick over his cheeks and a truth stamped over his heart. Nazyalensky’s calls had only been a minute long and every other day at first but now they were sporadic, more than five times a day at all hours of the night. Nikolai tried to ask what she was up to, all he ever wanted was to know more about the alluring woman who wouldn’t leave his mind. But to his dismay, every time he surrendered a story of his own she repaid him with a sentence or two at most, and it was usually about what she’d eaten for breakfast. As much as he enjoyed hearing himself talk he was captivated by the images the calls planted in his head, Nazyalensky soaring down a coastal highway in her convertible, the top down and her hair caught in the everpresent wind that seemed to cocoon her every movement. All he could think about was himself in the passenger seat, her sharp words cutting him before her soft lips healed them with a kiss. He was a mess.

“Are you going tonight?”

“I RSVP’ed but I’m not sure, I heard Morozova won’t be attending.”

“Get your suit pressed,” she snapped, “you’re picking me up at 7 and you better not be late.”

“I’m picking you up, oh however did I get so lucky? But he’s not going to be there tonight, we should spend the evening strategizing instead.”

“First off, there is no, ‘we,’ Lantsov, get that through your big head. Secondly, he will be there tonight.”

“My sources are never wrong, Nazyalensky, if they say he’s not coming--”

“He’ll be there,” she jutted in. “He’ll be there because I’ll be there.”

He froze, an uncomfortable weight setting in his chest. What was that supposed to mean?

“ Seven, Lantsov.”

“Seven,” Nikolai agreed.

The glimmer of streetlights danced against her hair, illuminating the shimmer of Nazyalensky’s vibrant orange dress, the fabric catching her every movement and he swore his heart had stopped when she first stepped out to get into his car. She had been quiet the entire car ride until now, “are you done staring yet?”

“I wasn’t staring.”

“Sure you weren’t, and I don’t look magnificent tonight,” she replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder, the tension easing between them as they fell into the easy back and forth that had become nearly natural. “Your car isn’t what I was expecting.”

Nikolai raised a brow, “what were you expecting?”

“Something flashy and obnoxious, I don’t know, a Bugatti?”

“If I had a Bugatti do you really think you would’ve found me with your hairpins up my sleeve?”

She cut him a disbelieving glance, “I don’t know what to make of you. You say so much about yourself and yet I feel like I hardly know a thing about you.”

He let out a measured breath, she already knew more than anyone else did, she was wrong about that, yet this tale stuck in his throat unlike all others. “I wanted something with as much character as me,” he began, “after my issues with Morozova, this was one of the few possessions I still owned.”

“What do you mean?”

Nikolai drew in a breath, if he had any hope of understanding what she’d meant on the phone earlier, he had to be willing to show her his hand, as much as the stubborn, lonely part of him protested, he knew he wanted to do this. “My family is wealthy. They have traditional values like the rest of their friends, ideas about passing their dynasty down to their eldest son, that type of thing. Or it was. I’ve always known that the people who rely on my family’s services deserve more than them, they don’t care about helping them, not really. I’ve spent years, since I was a boy trying to be better, trying to make myself into someone who could take care of the legacy properly. It was working, I thought they were going to agree. I went away to university for a few years, tried to help in new ways, from a distance, but when I came back, there was nothing left.” He glanced at Nazyalensky and she only cocked her head at him, waiting for him to continue. He’d never told anyone this story before, and he still wasn’t sure why he was telling her, someone whose name he didn’t even know.

“Morozova, an old consultant slithered his way back into their lives the moment that I left. He knew my older brother wasn’t clever, was easily manipulated, and so that’s what he did. He and my brother turned the favour his way, cheated me out of everything I had fought to earn, and convinced the board that Vasily should get to take over, with Morozova pulling all the strings of course. When I heard word of it, I came back immediately, but it was too late, they had written me out of almost everything. I was left with no money, no power, nothing. All the plans I had came crashing down and now, I know that if I can get rid of Morozova’s influence, my family might see sense.”

They sat in silence until Nazyalensky spoke again, “that’s more… noble than I was expecting.”

“I might look like a feckless rogue but I’d like to think that I possess an endearing quality or two.”

“You seem like you’re anything but feckless, a rogue, however? That seems much more likely.”

He winked, “for you, Nazyalensky, I could be as roguish as they come.”

She turned away quickly but Nikolai didn’t miss the pink flush in her cheeks at his words, grinning to himself. Although he had just revealed his biggest secret, he didn’t find himself particularly regretting it.

They continued in a comfortable silence until a loud ring cut through, a few blocks from their destination. “What’s up, Tamar?” he asked, accepting his friend’s call on the car’s display. Yes it was an old car with character, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t spruced up the technology to his liking.

“He’s not here,” she replied, Nazyalensky’s head snapping towards him at this, her eyes darkening.

“What do you mean? I thought he was supposed to be there?”

“He’s in Italy, he’s not coming.”

Nikolai let out a sigh as his partner’s head fell back against her seat, her fingers curled tightly into her palms. “Thanks, Tamar, I’ll talk to you later.” Another wasted opportunity, and he had believed Nazyalensky when she had insisted on Morozova being there. He knew there would be other chances, but it felt like he was running out of time, that if he didn’t hurry Morozova would find him out and try to finish him for good.

A sharp hiss from Nazyalensky drew his focus to her, and he saw that her unfurling palms were scored with crescent shaped indentations, the result of her nails pressing into skin. As she began to curl her fingers inwards again, his hand shot out, stopping her with the press of his palm against hers. The red light before them allowed him the briefest second to realize what he’d done, pulling his hand back to the wheel. “I—” he began, only to be cut off before he could apologize.

“Morozova, he had this school that he started when he was young, barely older than the students himself. He cultivated talent. Pitted students against one another and chose the best ones-- the ones most useful to him, and would take them under his wing.” She was staring straight out the windshield, her gaze distant, her eyes hollow. “Can you guess what I was?” She let out a humourless laugh. “I was talented and would do anything he asked without hesitation. He used that and when someone who suited his needs better came along, I was thrown aside, as if I’d never mattered. Not just me, it happened to us all. I don’t want to ruin him for my own hurt, but for theirs too.”

Her eyes met his in the front mirror and he nodded at her to continue. They had been driving in circles as they’d shared their stories, and he wasn’t going to stop until he heard the rest of hers.

“The reason I stopped being his favourite was because a new student came along. And whenever she called, he would come. Maybe a small part of me thought that since my name was on the list, he would come tonight. Is that foolish?”

“No,” Nikolai returned with quiet honesty. “It’s not.”

Her eyes seemed troubled as they met his again, but her tone was cool when she spoke. “Zoya. Zoya Nazyalensky.”

“Nikolai. Nikolai Lantsov.”

“Nikolai,” she hummed, pulling out the syllables, as if testing the feeling of his name against her tongue. “ Nikolai .” Saints, he didn’t think that his own name had ever sounded sweeter. “What do we do now, Nikolai?”

“We wait, and we try again. Now that we’re working together we can come up with a better plan and make this work.”

“Okay,” she nodded slowly, “but what about tonight?”

“I could drop you back off at home? There’s not much use going if Morozova isn’t there.”

“I share a too-small apartment with a couple who is disgustingly in love and it’s date night, I think I’d rather not.”

“And I share a too-small houseboat with a set of twins who wake up at 4am to do combat training in the living room.”

“We could keep driving,” she suggested, her voice low, fingers dancing over the dashboard as she awaited his reply.

“We could keep driving,” he agreed, trying to keep his focus on the road as Zoya’s head came to rest gently against his shoulder. Nikolai knew this particular luxury would cost him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to mind.

“Zoya Nazyalensky and Nikolai Lantsov.” His voice was filled with a quality she’d never heard before but found that she quite liked. It was a mixture of indolent arrogance and jauntyness, a rare combination, but she supposed nothing was too out there for Nikolai, the last few months had been filled with him surprising her daily. Whether it was stories of his past, or his friendships or exploits, she found herself listening raptly, as if she couldn’t turn away. And she didn’t want to. His stories painted the world in a way that made her hunger for more. In a way that made her believe, for a few silly seconds, that she could get on his boat and sail away from it all. And then he would drop her off at her apartment and the second she walked through the door, the magic was shattered and she remembered that she existed, not in the textured fantasy world spun by Nikolai’s silver tongue.

With a quick glance at their invitations and a wave, they were making their way to table 2 as instructed. Zoya’s arm was looped lazily through Nikolai’s, but they were both on high alert tonight. They had received personal invites to tonight’s function, and while they were planning a much longer game than springing on Morozova today, they had ultimately decided that their strategy would be to convince Morozova that they didn’t want to strangle him on the spot. Easier said than done, her fingers were itching to wrap around his greasy throat, and they’d only just gotten here.

Whether he would buy it or not was a whole other question, but their plan relied on him being cocky enough to underestimate them or to want to keep his enemies close. Drifting through the crowd, Zoya was able to pick up more than a few of the whispers at tables, each one making her want to roll her eyes a little bit more than the last.

"She’s the girl who locked Nikolai Lantsov down.”

"I heard she blackmailed him into taking her to parties.”

“I heard her parents are forigen millionaires and the Lantsovs who are in crushing debt want to be bailed out.”

“I heard she’s the lost twin to the princess of some country or the other and they need his money to keep up their lifestyle.

“I heard that she knows black magic and seduced him into being devoted to her, that he spends his weekends feeding her grapes like she’s a queen.

Zoya leaned up, her lips brushing his ear, “that’s my favourite one.”

She watched him hold back a laugh, “if you wanted me to feed you grapes, you could’ve just asked.”

“Who cares about grapes, are you or are you not going to fund my jewelry-hungry long-lost twin sister?”

He gave her an incredulous look, “with what money?”

Biting back a smile of her own, they settled at their table, Nikolai’s knee brushing hers as it jounced underneath the table, more whispers flooding over them now.

“Nikolai Lantsov used to ask every single lady to dance with him before the party was over, even the old ones.”

“Nikolai Lantsov used to come over and sit at our table for hours and listen to our stories.”

“Nikolai Lantsov used to be the most eligible bachelor in town before she came around and locked it down.”

“Did you hear that, Lantsov?” she mused, leaning over to adjust his crooked bow tie. “Apparently I’ve locked it down.”

He let out a huff, “apparently?”

Zoya rolled her eyes, tilting his mouth down to hers, smiling at the glint in his eyes as she murmured, “definitely.” Definitely locked it down.”

Nikolai awoke to a hand flopping against his abdomen halfheartedly, what on Earth?

“Come closer,” a tired voice groaned, “what good are you if you can’t warm the bed.”

He shuffled closer, “you’re sure there’s no other reason I’m here?” he questioned.

“No.”

“An interesting way of getting me into bed but who am I to question your methods?” Nikolai teased, grinning at Zoya’s look of annoyance. It was first thing in the morning and he considered himself nothing if not a man of routine, and a part of that sacred routine involved annoying Zoya into affection as soon as she woke up.

“As if I’d ever let you into my bed,” she growled, flipping her back towards him.

“That’s interesting considering how I’m in your bed right now.”

“Oh that can be easily fixed,” she nudged him off the edge of the bed, relishing the groan of impact as he hit the floor.

Nikolai sighed, figuring that he very well couldn’t spend the day lazing in bed with Zoya anyways, as much as he wanted to. He found his clothes flung in opposite sides of the room, putting on a piece at a time until it came to his shoes.

“Have you seen my loafers?”

“You’re so annoying,” Zoya replied, her voice muffled from the pillow she’d thrown over her head in an attempt to drown him out.

“Does that mean you haven’t seen them?”

“Your shoes sound as pretentious as you.”

“That’s not helping,” he muttered, spotting a wagging tail with a familiar looking shoe in his mouth. Nikolai couldn’t believe that this was his life now, half dressed , trying to extract his ridiculously expensive shoes from his girlfriends’ dog’s mouth while she laughed from above.

“Give it back.” The puppy refused to relent, disappearing back under Zoya’s bed, undoubtedly gnawing on Nikolai’s leather shoes even more now that he’d dissented. “Well, I guess I can’t leave now that the dog’s got my shoes.”

“Goodbye Nikolai.”

“Zoya, your dog has fully destroyed my shoes.”

“Oh no,” she groaned, “his taste is as shit as yours.”

“Good thing I keep another pair here,” he sighed, glaring at the dog. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he murmured, kissing a chaste kiss to her hair. This was their routine now, nights spent planning and talking, falling asleep on the sofa, waking up to the cold, Zoya back in her bed, with Nikolai’s arms wrapped around her.

He had already reached the doorway when he heard her speak. “Or,” Zoya’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “You don’t have to leave.”

Nikolai paused, “what are you asking?”

“I’m asking you to stay.”

The words were sweet music to his ears, but he wanted to check she was certain. “Are you sure, Nazyalensky?”

Zoya turned onto her side to face him, her midnight waves cascading over her shoulder, her bronze skin glowing in the lazy late morning light. Nikolai was sure that he must have died and been taken to paradise. How else would he be fortunate enough to have woken up entangled with the sight before him?

“Stop staring and get in,” she grumbled, “before I change my mind.”

Nikolai slipped back into bed, letting out a sigh as the covers enveloped him again. He would much rather spend the day here, like this.

“Get your frozen toes off of mine!” Zoya hissed, cutting through his moment of quiet.

“They’re not that cold,” he groaned, pressing his nose to her cheek as she tried to squirm out of his grip.

“Why is your nose cold too?”

“That’s what you get for hogging the covers.”

Her eyes flashed dangerously, “I don't hog the covers!”

“Of course you don’t,” Nikolai soothed, pulling her to him as she rested her head against his chest. “You’re an equitable bedmate.”

“Damn right.” she huffed, her eyes starting to sink closed already. “I’m the best.”

“How long am I allowed to stay this time?” Nikolai murmured against her hair, unsure if the response would be the same as always, the usual until the morning. Something had changed, and he didn’t want to shatter the precarious nature of today’s agreement, but he had to know.

“How about forever?” Zoya mumbled, half asleep. “Forever.”

Nikolai’s heart had likely come to the conclusion months ago, but it was then that his head caught up. This was it for him, he didn’t think he would ever love again, not after this. Forever sounded like the perfect amount of time.

“Forever,” he agreed, slipping into sleep after her.

#zoyalai #zoyalai fic #my writings #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #kos #king of scars #tgt fic #kos fic

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drkcnry67 · 4 years ago

Text

let us have delayed fun!

title: Let Us Have Delayed Fun

pairing: Jensen x reader

fluff 2020 sq: delayed flights

kink 2020 sq: masturbation

rating: 18+

tags: heavy flirtation, some dirty dancing type thing, discreet sexual acts in public, guy fingering girl discreetly on the dancefloor in crowd of people, guy fingering girl in a crowded elevator

summery: not telling

created for @spnfluffbingo @spnkinkbingo

fluff 2020 masterlist part 1 kink 2020 masterlist

it hadnt been very long, actually but an hour since you both had set eyes on eachother. departing at the security gate you both went to wait for your respected flights home but after an hour a storm warning delayed all the outgoing flights.

you both took your luggage and had the same idea, give the attendants your phone numbers to be alerted when the flights are ready to leave again, head to the nearest hotel and drink/dance the hours away…

this hotel just happened to be the same damn hotel (hyatt regency orlando international airport hotel) for it was just outside the hotel that you heard your name being called.

Jensen: “YN… YN wait up!”

you turned around to be face to face once more with Jensen… it was torture but it was better than being alone…

Jensen: “thank goodness i caught up to you… i have been screaming your name for the entire walk from the desk in the airport to here…”

YN: “sorry i had ear buds in… let me guess your flight got delayed too..?”

jensen: “yes it did, how bout to save money we share a room… it would be a whole hell of a lot less boring…”

YN: “why not but we need to go dancing, i am gonna go stir crazy if i dont fall to a beat…”

Jensen: “it will happen, but first i think we need to get into something hot and sexy to blend in at the club…”

you nod as Jensen with his suitcase comes beside you and your suitcase both of you walking into the hotel.

desk personal: “can i help you?”

Jensen: “yes we would like to check in, our flights got delayed…”

Desk personal: “i will need a name to charge the room under as well a card to charge it too…”

Jensen with his dashing smile pulled out his wallet and took out one of his cards.

Jensen: “name is Jensen Ackles. and ill charge this to Visa please. and make sure the room is non smoking with a balcony.”

Desk Personal: “of course mr Ackles. please tap when your ready and one of you will need to sign this agreement its just a standard agreement saying you wont destroy the rooms or anything like that…”

You looked at Jensen and then you took the pen and signed the paper…

YN: “we are just smart enough to wait somewhere comfortable till this storm passes… however long it takes… we dont care…”

Desk personal: “ah yes well storms usually last about 2-3 days depending on the level of the storm. it will be a while so yes you both are very smart in waiting someplace comfortable. now here is your room key you are in room 405 enjoy your stay and welcome to the Hyatt regency Orlando international airport hotel.”

you take the room key and shove it in the corner of your bra so you can take your suitcase in one hand while Jensen take your hand with his free hand. he keeps eyeing you, like he wants to jump you right then right there.

Jensen: “you know if you wear something with easy access you and i will have some fun on the dancefloor. some very heated decreet fun..”

he flashed you another one of his charming smiles. this made your knees feel week. both of you got into the elevator pushing the button to go to the floor to go to your room.

YN: “there is a club down the road calld Noches Azul, i hear its a popular and amazing place for those who like to move with the beat of their own drum.”

Jensen: “then we shall dress to the appropriate color too… ladies first.”

he says as the elevator doors opened. you walked out first and started down the hall slowly till Jensen stepped off the elevator then it was fair game you turned and blew him a kiss before taking off down the hall.

Jensen dropped his luggage beside yours in front of your door and pursured you, when he caught you he picked you up bridal style before reaching in to grab the key card out of your bra with his teeth.

then using your free hand you slid it in the door Jensen used his elbow to push the door open. he carried you placing you on the bed placing ferverous kisses all over your body.

this continued for several moments before you both pulled back and smiled.

YN: “if we dont get off of this bed we wont make it dancing… we want to have some discreet fun dont we?”

Jensen groaned at you, but of course he knew you were right…

Jensen: “your right. so what are you wearing tonight?”

YN: “stay right here and ill show you…”

you go into the other room away from Jensen’s view and you put on the little blue dress you had found at the airport. it just happened to fit the bill… once the dress was on you put all your stuff nice-ishly back where it was.

YN: “Jensen play Sexy Back… i want to see your reaction to me in this dress with this song.”

you listen for the start of the song, it starts and you wait for the bridge, where you begin to move slowly then you began to move into view along the wall when the chorus started.

as you continued to move your body on the corner of the wall you watched Jensen’s eyes not leave your form. you could see the lust in his eye, you could see the way his lips curled and the way he licked his lips. it turned you on so bad.

Jensen: “when did you pick this little number up?”

YN: “at the airport after i passed security, i went to grab a snack and came out with this dress. what do you think?”

Jensen: “i love it, it is exactly what will help this night to go smoothly. as well as it just looks smashing on you.”

Jensen had already stopped the song, you continued to stand against the wall, but Jensen figured he had to find something hot for himself to wear. you waited paitently for him to come back wearing the navy shirt along with some Jeans.

you let out a whistle for that shirt brought out his features very well. you had your leather jacket on the couch near by, Jensen had his in hand as well, you handed him your id to keep in his wallet along with the key card.

in moments you were off walking through the small area to the club. where you both would dance and dance till your hearts content or till you both felt so hot and heavy that it would be beneficial if you were anywhere but there.

arriving you both showd your id and were let inside. you both checked your jackets and Jensen stuck the check stubs in his wallet. you both went straight to the dance floor. you were glued to Jensen like a dirty shirt.

no one would dare to mess with either of you. finding a nice darkish spot on the dancefloor private enough for some “secret” fun.

both of you now taking part in the music, the beat coursing through your forms, your shared forms blending not missing a single beat no one around you paid any attention.

under the dimest spotlight there was, you and Jensen now stood making yourselves as comfortable as could be. the beat taking over, the feeling of Jensen’s hands roaming your body, this made your pussy very very wet.

Jensen(whispering in your ear): “grind my fingers baby keep dancing.”

you did as commanded, you were so wet and had orgasmed 5 times by the time the song was done. thats when Jensen pulled his fingers back again before you could orgasm again, he once more leaned down to whisper.

Jensen (whispering): “squirt for me baby!”

Jensen once more dipped his fingers hard into your soaking wet pussy. the silent moans, the rest of the club clueless as fuck and the feeling of Jensen’s fingers diving deeper and deeper into your pussy.

your body kept moving trying to contain any signs that you were discreetly being masturbated by a man you have only known for a month. this was your normal, this felt right in more ways than one.

Jensen had been there for you from the first day you met him. till now you had been completely alone, no man had entered your life long enough to even have your first kiss, long enough to ever make it as far as you had with Jensen. to be feeling these feelings made you wonder if he felt it to.

truth was he was completely feeling the same thing you were this was how you first swiruted, this was the man you knew was to be your present as well as your future.

in that moment you didnt care, you knew eventually your flights would take you both home seperately and probably your paths would never cross again. but in this moment it felt like heaven on earth.

Jensen hit one sweet spot and you squirted, discreetly you and Jensen giggling and smiling walked out of that club as fast as possible remembering to grab your coats on the way out.

arriving outside the club and walking back to the hotel you both laughed, for it was to be destiny that would give you both the biggest surprise ever.

arriving back at the hotel you both stumble up to the room, shutting the door again ending up in eachothers arms on the bed, the clothes you guys had been wearing were now all over the floor, and both of you were now cuddled in bed having just done sex for what felt like the millionth time during this entire trip.

reality started to sink in when the phone calls came in 6 hours later, this was when it sunk in. both of you looked at the clock it read 3:30am this was the time that the delay was no more. this was when you were both disturbed to get up get repacked and get ready for your flights home.

Jensen: “ill never forget the time we spent together. i left you something in your suitcase. you will find it and know what it means when the time comes. i also took down your address and phone number ill be sending you little things to show you i havent forgotten.”

YN: “i feel the same way but once we leave here, why would you waste time on a non celeb like me. i mean sure maybe our friends set us up but we wont know that till we confront them. i should have said this sooner but before i get on this plane there is something you should know. i think i have fallen for you. but i know not what to think at this moment. i took down your number as well, please understand that i may not communicate right away but thats cause i have a best friend whose anxiously awaiting my return home.”

Jensen: “same here, but please let me know when you do arrive home. i would like to know you arrived safely.”

Jensen helped you once more by helping you with your bags as he walked by your side to the airport and up to the check in once more to get your updated tickets and then it was time to part once more in such sweet sorrow.

you and jensen let go of your bags and hugged it out once more before parting to your respected gates. but you whispered in his ear when you hugged him.

YN: “i will let you know when im back on home soil. i will always remember your touch.”

Jensen and you parted and went on your way. arriving home you sent Jensen a text.

YN (texting Jensen): “hey Jensen its YN. i am back on home soil and i already miss your embrace. i am heading to baggage to collect my luggage, then to meet my best friend in the lobby. home hasnt changed. let me know when you land and what your seeing too. ill look forward to being in more correspondance with you soon <3″

you grabbed your bag and went down the escalator straight into the arms of your best friend. you broke down as soon as you hit her embrace. she just stood there hugging you not caring that either of you were in public, you both stood there as you cried.

Beth: “what happened girl?”

YN: “long story short the trip was amazing, but i fear i have fallen in love with someone i might never seen again. i missed you.”

Beth: “come on lets get you out of here and back home.”

you both exited the airport and went back home. later when you were alone you looked at your phone and saw a messgae from jensen.

Jensen (via text): “hey beautiful i made it home to, i know how you feel, it feels weird to be home again. my best friend is waiting i just grabbed my luggage. i hope everything goes well. till we speak again. i miss you too <3″

that was the message that sent you into a suspended sleep your bestie crawled into bed after she was done her work. she didnt care that you were passed out. she was just happy that you were home.

Jensen had a similar greeting from his best friend and returned home to his large and half empty bed also falling into a suspended sleep all he could think about was you.

*to be continued*

#spnfluffbingo #spnkinkbingo

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years ago

Text

Take A Picture

A bit of Tim/Brian during the Smile years, with just a hint of poly!Smile (Tim/Bri/Rog) as well (to the surprise of no one, I’m sure.) Inspired by this picture: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/638509013423783936 which was brought up on the DL discord server with mentions of a fic needing to be written inspired by it...so here we are lol.

We get smutty in this, but there’s also my usual dashes of Emotions for extra flavor.

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

"This isn't the weirdest place we've taken a photo at," Tim says, as he clambers past the more rusted bathtub and into the slightly bigger one beside it. "It's on the list maybe, but it isn't the weirdest."

"I'm in a bath, Tim," Brian sighs, and folds himself in after him. "At the least, this should be high up on that list."

"We could get weirder," Tim teases. "More experimental." "I'm not taking my shirt off," Brian sounds like he's joking, but that doesn't stop Tim from blushing, turning away to fake inspection of the bath before Brian can see him.

"You're so damned buttoned up, how would you get it off?" Roger calls from behind the camera. "Will you two sit down and get comfortable already?"

"Right, comfortable in the tub that might give us tetanus," Brian shouts back. "Sorry, let me just recline like a model for you!"

"I don't care how you pose, just hurry it up!" Roger sighs. "I need a break from this." "You just want pictures taken of you," Tim says. "We'll get to you as well, Rog."

Roger grins, and it's always lovely to see. The mentality isn't dissimilar to 'if mother isn't happy, then no one is happy.' So long as Roger can be kept smiling, then the day will be an easier one, with a happy Rog to keep their spirits up.

"Alright, that looks like something," Roger says. "Smile!"

"Hang on!" Brian looks utterly frustrated, trying to fumble his way into a comfortable position. "This wasn't made for someone of my height!" "I'm cozy," Tim teases. "Stretch out some, there's room by me."

As soon as he says it, he realizes he's stepping close to That Line again. The one he and Brian dance around, but have never fully stepped over.

The one that makes them both blush far too easily around each other, that makes it hard to focus when they touch even the slightest bit. And it didn't always feel that way, at least not so strongly.

The line is headed for a breaking point, he knows. Brian manages a quick, slightly silly smile as Roger takes the picture, but he sighs as soon as Roger moves back from them.

"Aw," Roger smiles. "You both look lovely! Shall I scout ahead for other spots while you extricate yourselves?"

"That'll be fine, yeah," Brian responds, his shoes slipping as he tries to climb back out of the tub, bringing to mind a wet cat hoping to escape a bath.

"Let me help," Tim offers, ignoring the way heat flushes his body as he reaches for Brian. "You'll hurt yourself." "I will not," Brian fusses, but he takes Tim's hand as support to push him back out.

The tub, however, has other plans, and before either of them can do anything else, they're back in the tub, slipped down into it, with Brian on top of Tim.

It's a cacophony of limbs, but Tim finds he can't focus much on that.

Not with Brian's thigh in between his legs, hair soft as his head rests on Tim's shoulder, and his chest heaving, probably as much from the fall as the physical contact. "You okay?" Tim finally manages a moment later, forcing himself to say something, as he fights to remind his body that there can be no reaction to this, none.

"Um," Brian says slowly. "I...I don't think I can get up."

He's about to ask Brian what hurts, until he presses his hip up closer to Brian's, and it's apparent as to why Brian would rather not get out of the tub and go wandering the neighborhood. The Line is there in front of them, and very real, and then it's gone with Brian's lips on his.

Just for moment, before Brian lifts his head, and his eyes are wide.

"Why did you stop?" Tim asks, ignoring the wavering of his voice. "Roger won't be back for another minute at least."

It's Brian's turn to blush now, but a smile comes with it. "I don't think that's enough time."

And of all the things he expected to hear next, Brian attempting something like seduction was not it.

But he likes it. "Maybe we cut the photo session short," he swallows hard, focusing on controlling himself, even as Brian teases, tempts, hips grinding down just a touch to make them both shiver. "Tell Rog we need a lunch break. Then later today we can meet up, finish it, get some pictures of all of us?"

He expects a verbal answer from Brian, but he doesn't mind that he gets a kiss instead, longer this time, with more heat behind it.

He doesn't know where they'll go for their 'lunch break.' There isn't really a good spot that comes to mind.

But Tim knows he's willing to use the van if they must, so long as it keeps Brian close, and keeps that line permanently erased.

---

"Tell me this doesn't mean anything."

"What?" Tim can't help but sound as heartbroken as he feels, shirt off, trousers undone, Brian's hand still down the front of his pants, fingers reaching for his cock as they lay in the back of the van.

"Just...I feel bad," Brian mutters.

Tim gently extricates Brian's hand from his pants, and motions for Brian to get off of him.

This is it then. Only a fling, like every other boy he's fumbled with in the back of a van, in the dark room of a cold flat, colder in the morning when he's gone without so much as a note. "You aren't the first, and you won't be the last," Tim sighs. "But I'm used to it. So if you're still game, I am."

Brian is adorably befuddled, wearing it like a confused puppy. "What are you talking about?"

"How this means nothing, and you never do this sort of thing, and this doesn't make you..." Tim falters in repeating everything the other guys have told him in the past. He shouldn't be hurt by it anymore. But he is.

"No, I was-" Brian stutters. "I mean...does this mean something to you? Because it means a lot to me and everyone talks about how this shouldn't mean anything, it's just fun, and-" "You are a gorgeous idiot," Tim sighs. "And I'm an okay idiot, I think."

"Don't know what you mean by all this," Brian smiles softly. "But I do know you're more than okay."

And he's not sure he's blushed so bright or so hot before, and it would be Brian to make him do that, wouldn't it?

"I mean, I was sat here, sure you were telling me this didn't mean shit to you," Tim continues. "And that you just wanted to get off and go." "We are on a time crunch," Brian admits, with a peek to his watch, set so delicately on that thin wrist. "How long do you think it'll take Rog to eat a sandwich and a biscuit?"

"Not long enough," Tim replies, his heart pounding away louder than Rog on the drums (and that is frankly fucking loud.) "Maybe...I know I already cut us short, but we could pause this, finish the photo session with Rog, and you could come back to..."

He trails off without meaning to, his voice just simply gives out on him, nerves screaming at him that this is too much, Brian won't say yes.

"Yours? Yeah," Brian smiles but he's clearly nervous, and Tim has never been so happy to see Brian nervous before. "Good," Tim smiles and peers out the window. "We should dress; he's nearly here."

"We told him to take his time!"

"Yeah, but he was hungry," Tim reminds Brian. "As it is, we'll have to eat on the run."

But he doesn't really mind that. There are worse things in the world, and he's not so worried about his stomach right now as he fumbles to redress.

---

Roger is grinning like a cat with a canary. "I knew it."

"Roger," Brian scolds, but there's no heat behind it. "Please don't tease."

"No, I think you two can do plenty of that to each other without my help," Roger giggles. "Finally. You've lost me a bet with Bulsara though. I gave you another week before you'd break and one of you would make a move; he had estimated sometime in the last week or this one." "We'll make it up to you," Tim remarks dryly. His cock is already half hard again at the thought of finally getting decent time alone with Brian, and they've been stood talking in the street outside his flat for nearly a half hour. Love Rog as he might (and he does), but good god he can't wait any fucking longer.

"I'm sure you will," Roger laughs. "Go have fun then. Be safe, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"What would you do?" Brian and Tim ask together, and there's no hiding the shock in their voice (Roger's never mentioned interest in any lads.)

But his tongue laps for a quick second at his lower lip, and he smirks prettily. "Wouldn't you two like to know?" He waves and then he's off, leaving them both in a silent consideration.

"If he means it," Brian begins slowly. "And if we both want it, there are other nights."

"Indeed there are," Tim says, though his mind is racing with ideas now. Of nights with him in Brian's lap and Roger in his and noise complaints from the neighbors that he'd be almost proud of.

"But tonight, though," Brian stammers. "I don't have keys to your flat. Of course I don't, but I mean we want to be inside it, not out here, and you haven't got out your keys, and-" Tim takes Brian's hand and pulls him to the door front door, slipping his keys out of his pocket as he moves. "Better?"

Brian just nods, quickly and happily, with a look on his face like he can't quite believe what's happening.

And truthfully, Tim can't believe it either, but it feels like the most wonderful dream. Brian's hand warm in his as they traipse up to his flat, small, but technically capable of being called 'shelter.'

That hand slips out of his and lingers at his hip as they shut and lock the door behind them, and the warmth turns to a delicious sort of burn. "I don't..." Brian giggles. "I don't do this a lot."

"Bri, I know," Tim smiles. "We drive you home after each gig, remember?"

That could have stung, but Brian seems to realize it's meant in jest as he leans down some to kiss Tim.

He might be inexperienced in the emotional side of hook ups of any kind (more serious or not), but there's no inexperience on his lips, the way they linger at the corner of Tim's mouth just long enough to make him short of breath.

"Bed's that way, but the couch doesn't squeak," Tim gasps out when Brian finally let's his mouth free for a moment. "Couch for now, bed later?" Brian's smile is still nervous, but there's a hint of lust, something hot and happy at the implication he's made.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Tim teases, but he's not really worried about that. He's got a feeling Brian will be staying plenty long enough to make use of both.

Brian smiles and the flat is still dark, but as far as Tim is concerned it's just been lit up as brightly as possible.

They do actually turn on a light as they move, clothes dropping to the floor, but there's still some shadow, and that's what captures Tim's eye as they stumble to the couch.

The shadow of Brian on the wall as he kisses his way down Tim's bare chest, lips soft on his skin, is particularly enticing. Tim might still be working to lay comfortably on the couch (not entirely possible, the couch may not squeak, but it doesn't provide much comfort either as far as sitting or laying on it goes), but there's nothing that would move him from the spot now.

"Let me know if this is all...good,” Brian says hesitantly, a finger tip resting on the waistband of Tim’s pants. That’s all that’s left to remove, and Tim’s nearly at a point to beg him to rip them off if he has to.

“I will,” Tim tries not to sound fussy or impatient, he really does. But he’s done so much bloody waiting today, that even another moment of it-

“Okay,” Brian chirps cheerfully, then leans down and sucks at Tim’s cock through his pants.

It’s not something he’s necessarily considered himself as ‘into’, messing about like this with clothes still partially on. Brian, however, might just make him a convert.

His whining stops Brian for a moment. “Alright?”

“You stopped,” Tim doesn’t even try to hide it now; he’s sick of waiting and feeling bratty about it. “Why on earth did you stop?”

“That wasn’t that good,” Brian chuckles. “Please,” Tim begs. There’s no other way about it; he’s begging now. “Just touch me; this is torture.”

Brian moves up his body, climbs onto him gently, long legs tangling with his, and frots against him slowly.

“You said you don’t do this often,” Tim gasps as he pulls Brian close by his hips.

“I don’t,” Brian giggles, hips moving still much too slowly, his cock hard against Tim’s. “I’m winging it. Going off of things I’ve thought about.”

“Thought about when?” Tim asks, though he can well guess. But he wants, needs, to hear it from Brian.

“At home, getting myself off,” Brian replies. “Thinking about you, and me. Sometimes Rog too.”

“So that’s not just me then,” Tim smiles.

“Not just you,” Brian smiles, but he’s tense, pulling his hips up and away more with each stroke. “I felt ridiculous some nights, you know?”

“Why’s that?” “Because I couldn’t get you out of my head,” Brian says softly. “Like this, yeah, but...other ways. Stupid, little domestic ways. Sharing a flat, spending nights in together. Just...anything and everything.”

“You’re going to come, aren’t you?” Tim can’t help but tease.

Brian is flushed above him, barely able to grind his cock down against Tim’s without sighing or whining or moaning.

But he shakes his head quickly, seemingly more to convince himself than Tim.

“You can,” Tim says. “I fully intend to call Roger tomorrow morning and let him know we won’t be making it to practice. Plenty of time to recover and go again.”

Brian moans into his mouth as he kisses him, hips and cock rutting hard against him now in full contact, and within a moment he’s gone.

Tim hadn’t intended to come with him, but all it takes is the kiss and the feeling of Brian’s come warm through the material of his pants, and he’s there.

“Don’t stop,” Brian’s voice shudders and is muffled as he drops his head to Tim’s shoulder. “Keep moving. We won’t have to stop, probably.”

“Probably?” Tim asks, using his legs to hold Brian close, struggling to keep a rhythm. Even with the cloth in between them, it’s still oversensitive to keep moving as they are.

Brian’s hips stutter, but they don’t stop, and it’s wonderfully overwhelming. He resigns himself to letting Brian keep it all going, and drops his head back onto the couch, eyes closed.

For a moment, Brian stops, and Tim opens his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Brian replies as he lifts his head, voice and breath still shaky. “Just admiring the view.”

Tim can’t help but burst into giggles. It sounds ridiculous, hearing someone speak about him like that. But all the same, he’s absolutely delighted to hear it coming from Brian.

“Is it that pretty?”

“Breathtaking,” Brian sighs happily. “I really want to go again, I do-”

“We’ve got all night,” Tim says, and pulls Brian down for a kiss. “And tomorrow.”

“And tomorrow after that?” Brian asks so softly Tim can just hear him, and even then, it takes a moment for it to click, for him to realize what Brian is really asking.

He can only manage a nod at first, before the words finally flow. “Yeah. And tomorrow after that, and more, if you’ll have me.”

Brian nods quickly and grins, peppering him with kisses, before climbing off of him and pulling him off the couch.

It’s the slowest he’s ever walked to his room, but it’s worth it to take their time, interrupting it with kisses and wandering hands and stripping off their pants finally.

He knows it might not mean Brian is moving in right away, regardless of any domestic fantasies either of them have had.

But as he falls into bed with Brian, he knows it’s the start of something all the same, something wonderful and hopefully lasting (maybe even with the addition of Roger, if he’s truly wanting to join them for more than just a night or two.)

And he can’t wait for the rest of it.

#text post #LeeH writes #Smile band fic #tim staffell x brian may #with a hint of tim staffell x brian may x roger taylor #but just a hint for now lol

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nctzendreamz · 5 years ago

Text

It Takes A Village :: Part l

Villager!Doyoung x Royalty!Reader

ft NCT, EXO, and BTS

It’s the dead of the night when you find a place indicating shelter.

“It’s a big day. do you have butterflies tonight, princess?” Maribelle, one of your family servants questioned as she tightened your dress.

“A big night for my father you mean?” You observed yourself in the mirror. The dress you were wearing tonight was a gift, sewn to perfection from the Byun’s. They were great friends with your family and had often sent you and your siblings presents for “good behavior” as they’d say.

“Well yes,” She smiled, moving to observe you with her own eyes as she pulled the last string. “But for you too. It’s the one night a year where everyone comes to simply awe at you and your family as well as the kingdom. That seems pretty exciting.”

“Well, if by exciting you mean mentally draining, I’d definitely have to agree.”

“Mentally draining?” An appalled voice said. It was your father, Suho, who had clearly been eavesdropping on your conversation. When he walked into your place of slumber, he couldn’t help but freeze from your current state. “You look absolutely gorgeous, sweetheart. Why the long face?”

“Good evening, your Highness.” Maribelle quickly bowed, excusing herself out of the room.

You sighed as you accepted his kiss on your forehead, “Nothing...I just...I just get nervous when all eyes are on me.” You began to fiddle with your dress, a clear indication that you were lying.

“You've always been an awful liar.” He said with a bright smile on his face.

“Fine,” You sighed again before making a move to sit on you bed, your father following you.

“This all feels weird, daddy.” you whispered. You felt the burning sensation building up in your throat and the tears threatening to fall out of your eyes.

He breathed out sympathetically before rubbing your shoulder to comfort you. It was something that immediately calmed you down no matter the situation. “I know, baby. It’s a foreign feeling, but your mother would be proud. It’s only been a year but you’ve already grown up so much.”

You chuckled sadly. “I didn’t really have a choice.”

“Well that’s the fun part of life, isn't it?” He questioned into thin air. “In one moment, everything can be perfect, and the next, your world is in a spiral. One can either stand up to the Goliath that is fate, or let it terrorize you forever.” Your father pressed one last kiss to your forehead. You didn’t need to respond to his wise words for him to know that you processed them.

“We hate to ruin such a dazzling moment.” Another voice spoke. There were currently two heads peeking from behind the door, and they both belonged to your brothers; the voice being Jungkook, and his mini me being Jisung.

“Please do come in.” You spoke sarcastically.

“I thought we agreed no tears tonight, sister.” Jisung said in a fake tone.

“She even carved it into the wall down in the punishment room did she not?” Jungkook added with a smirk, both him and Jisung sandwiching themselves between you and their father.

“Yes yes, such a scary sight watching her claw at the wall with stones for hours.” Jisung snarled playfully, clearly mocking your uncle Sehun and his high class demeanor.

“It’s perfectly okay for your sister to shed a few tears.” Your father interrupted, grabbing both of their cheeks. “You guys too.”

“Men don’t cry, father.” Jisung said with a roll of his eyes.

“Says who?” Suho gasped dramatically.

“Says me.” He answered confidently, his chest up in pride. “Hyung is not on the same page, but we’re working on it.” He cackled as his brother smacked him on his neck.

“Whatever.” Jungkook said.

Suddenly there was silence. A peaceful silence. Sure, you could hear the sound of guests coming in, plates being set even through the distance that you guys were from the gathering downstairs, but you all tuned it out in sync and just breathed together.

“I want you guys to know,” Suho suddenly spoke up, trying his best to wrap his arms around the three of you, “I love you.”

“We love you too, father.” You all said together.

“And that I'm proud of you.”

“We know.”

“And that your mother is proud of you. Proud of us.”

Your voices all suddenly became hushed, but still in sync. “We know.”

He pressed a kiss to all of your foreheads. “My greatest seeds. How about after all of this chaos full of announcements and fake chatter, we go ride the horses, eh?”

“Really!” you all said in unison.

“Really.” Your father said simply before getting up and taking one last look at his children. It was time to get ready for the big entrance.

“Finally. I was much younger when we went the first time, but I’ll show you all I’m the best!” Jisung said.

“They don’t call me the golden son for nothing, Ji.” Jungkook yawned in an over exaggerated manner.

“Yeah right. I actually ride horses.” You added.

“And who taught you how to do that?” your father spoke up with that dashing smile of his.

“Touché.” you all said with suspicious eyes before breaking into a fit of laughter.

“Plenty of time for fun in the morning my children, lets go.” He instructed all of you, even though he was still smiling. The three of you got up, your brothers checking your dress followed by you fixing their own outfits, and you were out of your room.

[[MORE]]

Entrances were made, you and your family as well as the rest of the royals in the kingdom making their presence known in your sangria red and medallion yellow clothing.

“I know I’ve said this about a thousand times,” Joy said, “but you look absolutely stunning, princess.”

You smiled. “All thanks to you and your family. Youre the only reason me and my family can be so stylish all the time.”

“Well that’s what best friends are for right? Plus, sewing runs in the Byun’s blood. It would be a dishonor to allow your father to dress you.” She burst into a fit of laughter.

Ah, Joy. The two of you had the typical story when it came to how your friendship came about. Her father, Byun Baekhyun, grew up with your father. They lived in the kingdom together with your grandfathers, easily becoming best friends as they found comfort knowing the two of them shared a similar burden when it came to impressing their male figures. Your family always had the authority as you did rule, but as the Duke of the kingdom, the Byun’s were always close by, even though it was Baekyun who decided to leave the kingdom and start a life for himself. Of course he kept up with his duties, but he had found quite the life living with his family and using their sewing skills to equip the people in need such as yourself with high end clothing.

“It’s the effort that counts.” You laughed, ”It hasn’t been easy with...you know…” You trailed off, playing with the food infront of you.

“Sorry.” She apologized quickly.

“Don’t be. We can’t just pretend she doesn’t exist right?” You smiled sadly.

“Who allowed him in here.” Joy changed the subject, eyes pointed to the man walking into the castle.

You eyed them suspiciously, trying your best to recognize a face. In reality, you didn’t get out much. Actually, you didn’t get out at all. The farthest you’d gone was to the edge of the line that separated your home, the infamous castle of the Kim’s, from what your father recalled as the real world. Where the homeless, villagers, and just all around unwealthy laid their heads at night. Your mother knew of this life, as she lived it before she met Suho at the market one day and had her happily ever after. You don’t remember it as you were a mere child.

All your memories belonged to this large space. Getting lost, being served...that was your life.

“Who is he?”

“Park Jimin. Didn’t start off wealthy, but is slowly climbing himself up the food chain and my father has no idea why.” Joy commented, leaning back in her seat. “He was so bold as to knock on our door, and help himself to a chair. He attempted to make business propositions with my father, but of course he said no. He laughed right in his face.

You observed him, noticing the short man. He had a slim figure, but you could also tell he was fit. His muscles were very clear even through his dashing clothing. Instead of the red and yellow you and your family were wearing as well as the majority of guests invited to the annual get together, he and his guest sported zaffre blue coats complemented with silver accessories. You had never seen anything like it. You also hadn’t noticed him, as well as other man he was with, making their way towards you.

“Greetings, princess.” He got on one knee, pressing a kiss to your hand before rising. “Park Jimin.”

“Good evening.” were the only words you could form. you didn’t know where to begin.

“Oh, no need to be shy. I'm a family friend.”

“Family friend, huh?” A cocky Jungkook appeared suddenly, followed by Jisung. “We’ve never heard of you.”

Of course this was the time to yell at your brother for his rudeness, but you didn’t have it in you. Especially when this “family friend” clearly didn’t know the code of honor in your kingdom. You never address the princess first.

“Let’s not get feisty, shall we?” A taller man said. His features were sharp, and he was very intimidating. Clearly not too intimidating for your brother as he had no intention of backing down.

“You haven’t seen feisty.” Jisung said, stepping in front of you, Jungkook following.

“Oh boys,” Joy said boredly, standing in the middle of all of you, “Let’s not play these masculine games. Jungkook, I want to dance.” She demanded, taking your brothers hand and pulling him out onto the center of the large space.

“I do have to say, i’m not too shabby myself.” jimin smirked, bringing his hand out to follow suit.

“I’ll pass.” You said cockily, before grabbing your brothers hand and escorting him to dance beside Jungkook and Joy.

“What the hell was that.” Jungkook whispered aggressively as he spun Joy around.

“Just a jackass.” You said. “Probably some know-it-all who wants to show off.”

“Yeah. I was telling Y/N how my father has his eyes on him. He hasn’t figured out why, but there’s something off putting.”

“Cleary.” Jisung said. “Maybe we should tell father? One of our uncles? The knights?”

“I’ll tell father.” You said, ruffling his hair and stepping away.

Just as you were about to do so, the familiar sound of a bell ringing throughout the castle stopped you.

Thus annual function was not only to commemorate your family and their stylish ways, but it was also a way for everyone to hear your fathers plans for his people. After, everyone would spread the news in anyway they could.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please!” your father’s voice echoed throughout the castle, causing everyone to shush and hush the people who weren’t following orders. If only there was some kind of device that could be used to make his voice louder? Eh, you knew it would be invented one day.

“Last year was a very tough time for the kingdom.” He began, the room officially silent, “You lost your queen, I lost my wife, and my kids lost their mother. But no need to dwell on what we have lost. Instead rejoice on what we can bring to this kingdom and to everyone!”

There were cheers all around.

“So that is why the announcement that I have to bring to you is that we will be expanding the kingdom, most importantly introducing the Byun’s warehouses.”

“What?” Joy whispered, looking to her father who was currently standing beside your father proudly, a smile radiating across his face.

“We realize that a lot of people are out of work, or don’t have secure jobs. Sir Byun and I are expanding his sewing business, and would like to offer more people jobs. Secure jobs.”

“We plan to stretch this across land you didn’t even think about. There is so much more to come, but all you need to know as of right now is that if you need work, there’s no excuse as to why you can’t work for me. We will be everywhere.” Baekhyun finished.

“Well, I don't think anybody that needs to work for you is here.” A man said, causing laughter to erupt across the room.

You happened to lock Park Jimin in your sights, yet he found no amusement in these jokes. All he did was stare at your father with a straight face.

“Look of jealousy.” Jungkook whispered in your ear before clapping for his father with a bright smile on his face.

You wanted to brush it off as that. You truly did. but it was something off about his posture. It was almost as if...he was waiting for something.

All of sudden there were gasps of horror, and your mouth as well as the rest of your brothers and Joy were agape to the fullest.

Your father and Baekyun had crimson pooling from their stomachs, and you couldn’t breathe.

No. This can't be.

There were 4 men behind them, clearly shooting their arrows to kill as your father had 4 in him, as well as Baekhyun.

“Father!” Jisung yelled, tears already pouring down his cheeks as he made an attempt to run to his father, even through the crowd of people making an attempt to leave the castle.

“Jisung, no!” You screamed, grabbing his hand to keep him put.

Jungkook was frozen. So was Joy.

Knights ran as fast as they could up the long flight of stairs that held your fathers, but it was too late. there was a loud boom, followed by the feeling of heat on the lower levels of the castle.

They were burning the castle down.

The men had taken them. They were gone. He was gone.

“We have to run.” Jungkook said suddenly, ignoring all the chaos around him.

“What! Run where, Jungkook? We don’t know where to go!” You yelled.

“We’re next Y/N..” He whispered, his eyes pointing clear to the direction of the man who should’ve never been allowed to step foot into this place. He was at the very top, just as your father had been seconds ago. As if it was his kingdom.

His gaze was sharp, but even through the smoke that started to build, he held a smile on his face. Suddenly he took a shiv out of his pocket and pointed it in your direction. In a flash he was gone, in what you assumed was the direction of the emergency exit you had upstairs.

“Go go go!” Joy cried in agony, directing all of you to follow the people in running.

“We need horses!” You yelled, even though you were running as fast as you could.

“We don’t have time for horses, Y/N! They are here to kill us.” Jungkook yelled back.

Another blast echoed through the kingdom, causing you to temporarily go deaf.

“Y/N, I'm scared!” Jisung cried, holding your hand just like he did when he was a baby. You wanted to look back and see what you already knew. The sight of your house radiating a bright orange color.

It felt like it took forever to reach what you referred to as the line. The only person who had been over was Joy. You had no idea what lived beyond it, but as you looked at your home in flames, you didn’t have a choice but to run across it. Fuck.

A/N: Please give me feedback on this. I have had this in the drafts since before I even made this account, but I never knew if it would be good enough. Tell me if you want more and I love you all so much.

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legion1993 · 5 years ago

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Let us have Delayed Fun