#do NOT ask me about my thoughts on sun haven i have opinions | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sirensmojo · 4 years ago

Text

"Big Bank!" - Hubby! Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Big Fluff, Old Money love story vibes.

Summary: Tommy decided to let his wife take care of his Gin. He comes to taste it for the first time after the Gin was met with great success.

A/N: We stand for a caring & trusting Thomas, sorry not sorry.

*Masterlist*

It was a windy day when Tommy entrusted you with his Gin distillery.

The sun was out, as your children were running around the garden, their giggling easing his mind. His head dropped backward on the garden chair as fingers of one of his hands were fidgeting with his cup or whiskey, as a cigarette was locked in between his lips.

Spring was early this year, much to your family’s pleasure. Spending time outside was something you loved to do, and knowing Tommy’s busy agenda, you made sure to make every family moment the best one.

No need to say time flew so fast, the days becoming months, becoming years.

Tommy and you was an evidence. From the day you bumped into each other in the London’s library his sister Ada used to work, you were inseparable. Thus you didn’t know each other for very long, but everything between you made this fact questionable.

You were acting as if you knew each other since children, a single look and you understood what the other thought. Not too many words were said, but not too many words were needed.

Although you weren’t Tommy’s first wife, you were “the perfect two”, making all the people you knew jealous and envious.

“My love,” you announced your presence when coming closer to the garden table as your husband was eyes closed. “I did some thinking.” You added, catching his attention.

Tommy straightened back his head and he was now facing you as you seated in front of him, glimpsing from afar of your three little boys.

“You know I don’t like your whiskey or any type of alcohol, truly.” You raised your brows, and he puffed on his cig, waiting for you to continue. “I want to make Shelby’s Gin.” You let out outright.

No need to turn around your wish, by the way he shifted position you already knew he was ready to hear anything, and you didn’t want to disturb him from his peace. You knew how he dearly appreciated those little moments in which he didn’t have to think about running a business or dealing with dirty gangsters and rude people.

“You want to do what?” He raised a brow not too sure he heard you well, but when he caught eyes of your lips curling at the corner of your mouth, he knew he had heard it well.

His family was his haven of peace and you would do anything to take off some weight off your Shelby’s shoulders. it was a regular task, a daily basis habit that you quickly took and that you’ll probably never lose.

“I already tried a mixture.” His deep voice accentuating your smile.

“It’s my turn now, you played enough with that, you need to focus on real business now. Put your mind elsewhere and let me fill my bottles.”

You couldn’t quite put your finger on what changed precisely, but you noticed a shifting in your husband’s expression along with the gleam animating his iris.

You thought it was worry.

You lost your father a few months ago due to lung disease and your mother died long ago when you were the age of your own children, and as an only child, you were now all alone without your parents.

Gracefully you had Tommy and the kids because if you hadn’t you didn’t know how you would’ve handled this loss.

As being a sensible cord, your husband didn’t bring it up, and he wasn’t the type of comforting people with words anyway, but he tried it his way, which means he bought you a ridiculous amount of new jewellery and books because he knew how much you liked to read and how you were a simp for big diamonds.

Incidentally, Tommy always found it funny how much time you spend with your nose in books while having a voracious appetite for jewellery. He would never miss an occasion to make fun of you when catching you reading as you had to wear glasses, and it was all funny and stuff till he too, had to wear glasses to read.

Now, in bed, you looked like two old people, instead, you were reading adventure and dramatic novels whereas he was stuck with political subjects.

“Okay.” He didn’t hesitate a single moment which made you smile.

“Okay?” you repeated, your smile growing as seconds passed. He straightened back, leaning over the table to you and his hands reached for yours.

You intertwined your fingers together with ease, sparkles spreading at the tips of each of it.

It was that way with every of his touches. He just had that power over you, which you were proud of as it was just love. It could never be anything else.

His deep blue eyes were anchored into your Y/C/E’s ones and you knew he was trying to bring you comfort. He knew what it felt like to lose people, and was ready to give you whatever if that meant to ease your pain.

You neared your faces and he ran his thumb over the end of your nose, down to your lips as cupping your cheek with his palm. Tommy’s head was slightly tilted to the side, his only purpose being to reach your soul with either his touch or his soul hidden behind his iris.

You leaned your head into his touch and closed your eyes for a second, enjoying that moment between the two of you as the breeze made its way to your neck under your mane.

Now, nearly five weeks later, all Birmingham was only speaking of the Shelby family as the people making “the good priced good gin” according to what you heard in the streets. From the fancy restaurant to the underground pubs, everyone in town had tasted of that oh so liked liquor.

Tommy first heard how good the gin was by his brother Arthur. He, who liked to get drunk all day long and all night long, was always keeping a bottle of it in his car or even on himself.

Then it was Ada, always offering him a drink of it whenever he would visit her.

(...)

It was 4 in the afternoon when Tommy walked through Charlie’s yard to join the Gin factory, when opening the door he was surprised to see you, seated at the old dusty desk filling paper and sipping on several cups.

Your husband frowned, “Y/N?”. He didn’t know if he should be worried or glad to see you working in such a place while drinking a lot knowing you’re not even a drinker in the first place.

You lifted your gaze to him and a huge smile instantly warmed up the atmosphere in the space, “Tommy!” You exclaimed as you got up. Being a bit dizzy you were strongly holding onto the table while getting up but you wanted to join him, and that’s when Tommy noticed your reddened cheek and little eyes.

“You’re drunk,” he stated, concerned. His expression shifted. He seemed a bit worried as he took one of your wrists to help you walk correctly.

You waved your free hand before you as to blow away his remark, “I was trying a new mixture for the Gin.” You informed him. You slid a hand into his rough one and stepped backwards, to the desk. “Here, choose one and tell me.” You proudly pointed to each of the cups. “This one on the left is spicy, the middle one a little too sweet for the Americans, this one to the right is the version that is out, and the last one is a bit strong. If the sadness hit too much.”

“The sadness?” Tommy asked while grabbing the third cup, being the gin that was already out. He was quite startled by how implicated his wife seemed to be, he didn’t actually think she would invest that much time and energy in this activity, but he was relieved she found a reason to get up every morning other than their beautiful family.

He knew how living a life without having or serving a purpose was meaningless and boring, even more, when being saddened by something you can’t control such as the death of a loved one.

The Shelby brother will sleep better now, knowing his other half found purpose somewhere, even if seeing her drunk was a sight he could never get used to…

At this moment, he felt the need to feel her skin under his touch before doing anything else, and that’s what he did, putting his hand at the end of her back, he pulled her closer, his thumb rubbing her skin over the fabric of her dress.

Tommy then drank from the cup and took his time judging the taste of it.

He opened his eyes and dropped the cup on the desk before turning to his wife, she was looking at him, impatience spreading all over her face. She seemed ready to hear Tommy’s opinion on her Gin... On their gin.

The blue-eyed man grabbed her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to Y/N’s. She closed her eyes a couple of seconds before opening them to a staring Tommy. He was fondling her cheeks with his thumbs before exhaling deeply, “I now understand why everyone’s talking about us, Shelbys, being fucking genius’, eh” He got distracted by her lips.

“This,” he pointed to the bottle standing at the corner of the table, and, once again, Tommy got distracted, he noticed words were present on the bottle down the name. “Distilled for the eradication of incurable sadness.” He read out loud.

A faint smile was found on his face before he agitated the bottle in his hand. He was proud.

He put down the bottle and directly sealed his lips to Y/N’s, the calling for love being too loud to resist.

That was exactly why it was her and no one else, she was always unpredictable and versatile. Who would have thought his bibliophile wife could be a real gem in the making of gin?

She put away, gasping for air before looking him in the eyes, “What? Did I never tell you the fact that my grandpa was making alcohol?” She teased his lips by speaking inches away from them, “I know one or two tricks. That’s why it’s selling well.” She concluded before pressing their lips together eagerly.

“This is a big bank, yea” He succeeded at saying in between two kisses.

#Thomas Shelby x Reader #Tommy Shelby #Peaky blinders #husband tommy shelby #hubby!Tommy Shelby

438 notes · View notes

ithinkilikeit-reactions · 4 years ago

Text

The coffee and the cup (Jeong Yunho/Smut)

Ateez Masterlist Group Masterlist

A/N: You bet your ass this was inspired by the pottery video. I was also inspired by a lot of ceramics artists I follow on instagram and thought this was fun.

This is a feel good story, no bad things, just good. Just wanted a feel good thing.

Tags: Potter! Yunho x Café owner reader!, Fem! reader, a lot of pining and sweet glances, coffee, a freshly starting relationship, love confessions, Hongjoong that likes to judge

Smut tags: Very sweet, gentle, soft dom! Yunho, marking, oral (female receiving), Fingering (female receiving), scratching, Praise, teasing, Unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all)

Word count: 8046 (I don’t do short stories)

There was something utterly comforting about the feeling a café could give you. It was something that you had always enjoyed, from being in middle school, getting cookies and chocolate milk before school, to high school and college where you did all day study sessions, cafe’s had become a safe haven for you. Therefore it was only natural that you had grown up with a dream of starting your own.

With the little money you had managed to save up and the help from your family, your cafe had become a reality. A reality that you never thought would happen. It was even more surreal as you unpacked your first groceries and placed them in the pantry and refrigerator, looking around your place. Your place.

It was small, with only two, two persons tables indoor and two outdoors, it was more a “grab a drink and go” type of place and it was perfect for you. It was seated in a small street, filled with small locally owned businesses and what better way to introduce yourself, than to bake.

A classic lemon blueberry muffin was the taste of coming home, the taste you wanted to sell at your store, a taste you wanted to give your fellow shop owners. You wanted people to feel comforted at your place, so you made something comforting with a little twist, so that everybody could see what type of person you were. Baking was your second love to coffee, so you went to work making around 30 muffins. The delicious smell filling your store and placing a smile on your face. Nothing could drag your day down, not that day.

Once the muffins had cooled enough from coming out of the oven, you packaged them carefully and placed them all in a little wicker basket, setting off to say hi to your neighbors. Starting with the little music instrument store right next door. The owner wasn’t what you expected at all, young, well dressed with one painted nail on each hand, going by the name Hongjoong. He greeted you with an amazing smile, wondering how he could help you.

“Welcome! Can I help you find anything?” He asked and you couldn’t help but beam a smile back at him. “No believe me you wouldn’t want me playing any instruments. I bought the café next door and wanted to introduce myself!” You said raising your basket to show him. “Oh! Welcome to the neighborhood!” He shook your free hand, smiling at you brightly. “So you’re going to be providing us caffeine from now on. I greatly appreciate it.” He said and you couldn’t help but laugh. It’s nice that people were missing a café here, gave you hope that you would do well.

You grabbed one package of muffins and placed them on his counter. “I hope you like lemon blueberry muffins. I made them from scratch and well they’re my personal favorite.” You explained and he tore into the packaging quickly. “I’m partial to anything made with bread.” He said, pulling apart a muffin and popping a piece into his mouth. “Oh, everyone around here is going to love these. You should head to Wooyoung’s restaurant down the street, Yeosang’s skate shop, Oh and Yunho’s little store next door. He might eat you out of house and home but oh boy he might become your best customer. These are delicious.” He complimented and you felt a sigh of relief. No matter how many people tried your food and drinks, you still got anxious when it came to their opinions. “I’ll head there now. Would be nice to have a customer before we even open.” You said softly and Hongjoong nodded. “He’s loyal too. If he likes what you have, he’ll never go anywhere else.” He added, making you laugh.

The sound of the door opening behind you made you glance in that direction, seeing a teenage boy looking around the instruments. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it.” You said, heading for the door. “Thank you again for the muffins and if you ever need any help with anything, don’t be stranger.” Hongjoong told you, making you feel all warm in your chest. He was incredibly kind, you could tell from the way he carried himself. “I won’t. Have a good day!” You said, waving as you exited his store.

It was an incredibly good day out, sun brightly shining down on you as you walked to the little shop next to the music store. The bell signaled that you entered the building, but there was no one in sight. You stood by the door a moment, not wanting to overstep boundaries even if it was a store to shop in. Not only for that reason though, you were scared to knock something over and break it.

The store was filled with shelves lining the bright yellow painted walls, on those shelves were a bunch of clay made works. From little figurines to beautifully sculpted plates, vases and mugs coated with bright paint. It was all so colorfull and bright, making a large smile pull over your lips.

However, no one came to the front so you remained still another moment before calling out. “Hello?” You asked, holding on to your basket and leaning forward to see if you could spot anyone. “Hello?” You asked again, not really expecting a response but wanting to make sure.

“Come on to the back, I can’t open the door back here because my hands are really dirty!” A voice called out and spotted the door that muffled it. You maneuvered yourself carefully to not knock things over as you made your way to the door, spotting a few mugs and plates you wouldn’t mind adding to the café’s collection on your way. You stood in front of the door not quite knowing what to expect when you opened the door, but you did it anyways.

It lead to a little studio, with big windows in the back and more shelves lining the room. In the middle sat a pottery wheel with what looked like a half finished vase resting on it. But what was really eye catching, was the man washing his hands by the sink in the corner.

He was tall, with long legs, dark hair and broad shoulders. Wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt that had clay stains all over them. Then he turned around, finally exposing his face to you and you seemingly felt your knees get weak. Never in your life had you seen eyes like his, so big and full of emotion. It only made the stripe of dried clay on his cheek seem even cuter.

“Can I help you with anything?” He asked, drying his hands before walking towards you. Lifting your basket, you had a hard time finding words for a moment as he smiled at you. “I- uh- Hongjoong next door sent me over. I bought the café 2 doors down and wanted to introduce myself.” You explained, watching his smile get even bigger. You quickly stuck your hand out to his and he looked down at it, taking it gently. “I’m Y/N.” You said, really taking note of the way his eyes sparkled. “I’m Yunho.”

Now Yunho knew it wasn’t really all that common for people his age to make a living off of pottery and art. But he saw that as a challenge, a challenge he took head on and had managed to do it. It was his passion, it was what he was good at and well, the looks of surprise on people’s faces when they asked him what he did for a living was an added plus.

Now he hadn’t been expecting any visitors that day so he was taking the time to create a vase he had been thinking about making. But he wasn’t mad at the interuption at all, especially not one in such cute packaging. Your yellow sundress was inviting, your pink cheeks even more so and not to mention the wicker basket with baked goods. You looked like the angel of his own personal heaven.

“I made muffins, they’re lemon blueberry.” You said, pulling the two packaged muffins out of the basket and handing them to him. You were feeling incredibly shy suddenly, even though the man was radiating nothing but a positive energy. “Oh! You said Hongjoong sent you?” Yunho asked, taking the packaging. You nodded at his words and he let out a hearty laugh. “He knows my kryptonite, baked goods.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his words as he took one more step closer to you.

“I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what are you making?” You asked, gesturing to the pottery wheel. Yunho’s eyes widened at your interest before moving back towards the wheel. “I was asked to make a vase specifically for calla lillies. The design needed to be ‘unique’ according to the client.” He laughed and you took a step closer to look at the clay better. Unique was definitely an accurate description for it, but beautiful none the less. “It’s really pretty.” You said and looked back at him. He was watching your response to his work, finding it endearing how focussed you were on it.

“I have something for you.” Yunho said quickly, wanting to welcome you to neighborhood properly. He gestured for you to follow him back to the front of the shop as he scanned his shelves for something. “Something for me?” You asked, following him as looked around. “Yes, something for you. To welcome you to the neighborhood.” He said sounding incredibly cheerful which made butterflies fill your stomach.

It was funny how Yunho had taken a few looks at you and instantly had a piece of his in mind to gift you. It just seemed like it suited you, with your bright choice in muffin flavors and the sunny aura that you had radiated to him. It was just an obvious choice to him.

“There they are.” He said, pulling 2 mugs from the back of a shelf. They were made for a large cup of coffee, with sunflowers molded onto them and painted. They were very pretty and something you most definitely would have picked out for yourself. He quickly shuffled to his counter, wrapping them with paper for protection and placing them in a little bag. Yunho was a little scatterbrained, self admittedly, but it was only natural to get a little extra nervous when there was a pretty girl in front of him.

“I hope these get put to good use when the café opens.” He said, as he wrote something on a card and slipped it into the bag. You caught a glimpse of his handwriting, noting how messy and cute it was before looking away again. “I’ll definitely put them to good use. I’ll make sure to serve my first cup of coffee in one.” You promised and Yunho could feel his ears burning red. “Good.” He said softly, sliding the bag in your direction. “The shop opens in 2 days, I would enjoy it if you stopped by.” You said softly as you grabbed the bag and placed it in your basket. “I’ll be there for sure.” He said, simply standing and looking at you. You admittedly were doing the same, finding yourself getting absolutely lost in those eyes before tearing yourself away. “I have a few more stops to make-” You started, walking towards the door because you were embarrassed for staring.

“I really hope you enjoy those muffins.” You finished, placing your hand on the door handle and looking back at him one more time. “I most definitely will.” Yunho smiled, watching you leave his shop before leaning down and pressing his forehead against the counter. He hadn’t had a rush from someone in a long time, you were like a shot of caffeine and he had you on his mind for the rest of the day.

You had brought around the rest of your muffins before coming back to your shop. It was now late in the afternoon and the had calmed down quite a bit. You had discovered that your new little neighborhood was close, tight knit. Everyone seemed to know eachother and something about that was quite comforting. Wooyoung’s resaurant was incredibly home-y with delicious food (he had forced you to sit down and enjoy some food) and Yeosang’s skate shop was just adorable with a lot of custom boards there and they all seemed to know eachother quite well. It was helping you realise you had chosen the right spot, you needed the support.

Sitting down at a table, you placed your basket down as well. The whole afternoon you had been curious about what Yunho had written down on the card. It was on your mind the whole time and well so was he. He was quite magnetic, awkward and just very cute, you really couldn’t help it.

Pulling the mugs from the bag, you unwrapped them carefully so that you can take in the details more. You hadn’t really gotten the chance to before, you were entirely too focussed on something or rather someone else. You held one of the mugs in your hand, looking it over and running your fingers over the smooth ridges. It was all so incredibly detailed and such a sweet gift.

You put the mug down and pulled the card from the bag. It was just simple cardstock with no design on it, only his writing and you felt the butterflies bubble back up as you read.

“I thought it was a good day because of the weather, but I guess it was because you were in the neighborhood. I can’t wait to stop by your café when it opens, but I would love it even more if you would go on a date with me, maybe let me teach you how to sculpt. I’ll leave my number for you.

It was nice meeting you, sunshine.

- Yunho

P.S the mugs are handwash only”

You laughed at the last sentence holding the letter to your chest as you did so. A date with Yunho, it was all so sweet. Not to mention his nickname for you had you swooning.

Pushing yourself up from the table, you placed the mugs on the counter and put the card by your store’s phone. It was too soon to call right away, but you were definitely going to call. There was no doubt about that, you could feel a connection with him instantly and you couldn’t help but mentally thank Hongjoong for that.

Time had seemingly slipped away from you after that day. You had been incredibly busy the day after, getting everything ready and prepared for your grand opening. Baking what you could, grinding coffee beans and preparing mugs, plates and other items. You weren’t expecting a huge turnout or anything... but it never hurt to be prepared.

But that coupled with your anxiety for doing well, you seemingly forgot about Yunho’s number that was just waiting to be called by your phone. It was purely accidental that it happened, that it had all slipped your mind.

But you were quickly reminded of it when he stood in front of you, after you had given one of your first customers their order of coffee and an oatmeal cookie. There he was, standing in front of you at 10 a.m, wearing a lightly striped button down tucked into black jeans. Considerably more dressed up than the last time you had seen him, however this image of him made you think of his number and you panicked.

“Oh my god Yunho, I forgot to call.” You said, clasping a hand over your mouth in embarrassment. You felt absolutely horrible at the realization however Yunho could only laugh. “It’s alright, it’s alright sunshine. I figured you were busy with the opening and everything so I didn’t take it to heart.” He smiled at you and you pouted. “I feel really bad. What can I do to make it up to you?” You asked, walking around your little counter because from what you could tell, there were no more customers left to serve aside from him in the café.

Your response was just so cute to him, he didn’t think you owed him anything at all. He gave you his number and it was your choice to call him or not. However he still would have really like that date, especially seeing you again. You were wearing a simple orange, shin length, floral skirt with a black t-shirt tucked into it and an apron fastened around your waist. You were... sunny to him.

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you don’t owe me anything. But I would still like to know if you would like to go on a date with me?” He asked and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief at his question. “Oh and I would love another lemon blueberry muffin. I ate both alarmingly fast the other day.” He added on quickly, laughing as he did so. He didn’t want you to feel pressure, at all. Yunho wanted you to go out with him because you wanted too, not anything else.

You looked down to the ground in attempts to hide the blush on your cheeks, before pulling yourself together and finally looking up into his eyes. “I can definitely do a date and I can also definitely do a muffin.” You said and quickly disappeared behind your counter again. Yunho watched with adoration as you did, incredibly happy but trying to keep things cool.

“Here is your muffin... would you like anything else?” You asked, handing him the packaged treat and his fingers grazed yours. “No, I got what I came for.” Yunho said and reached for his wallet. “No, it’s on the house.” You stopped him and he looked at you, opening his mouth to say something. “I know you said I don’t owe you anything but, just take it. For my own sake.” You explained and he bit down on his lip to keep his smile to a minimum. “Thank you.” He said softly, back away from the counter because how much he was beaming.

“Call me to set up the date tonight? Okay?” He said, now leaning in the open door of the café. “I will. I definitely will this time.” You said and he nodded, walking away and letting himself smile fully.

Your first day was incredibly good, a total of almost 50 customers which really wasn’t much but still good and a date settled with an absolutely beautiful man. It was just a good day, you smelled like coffee when you got home and there was nothing better than that. Life was coming together.

He had set things up in such a specific way, he wanted this to be perfect. Something about you drew Yunho in so much, he didn’t want to mess this date up at all. It meant a lot to him.

So when you showed up to his store again, ready for your date, he had his heart in his throat. He had told you to wear something you wouldn’t mind that got dirty and well you listened, showing up in overall you deemed your “paint overalls” the ones you would wear while painting your house and some beat up Converse sneakers. Yunho was wearing the same clothes from the day you had first met and waiting inside his store when you appeared at the door.

“You look very cute.” Yunho commented, the second you entered the building and your cheeks flushed red. “I’m used to people starting conversations by saying hello.” You said, leaning onto the counter he was stood behind. He mimiced your actions, face getting closer to yours. “Hello. You look very cute.” He teased and you looked down to avoid his gaze with a soft smile. “Anyways, what are we doing today?” You asked, standing back up fully and slipping your hands into your pockets.

“Well, do you need anything else for your shop?” Yunho asked and you took a moment to think. “I was thinking about stopping by for some small, single flower vases. To see if you even had anything like that. Why?” You asked and he pushed himself off the counter.

Now if you had said no, he would have sat you down to make something random just to have fun. But now he was going to give you something you could absolutely make use of and hopefully something to remind you of him.

“I figured I could teach how to make them, something you want exactly.” Yunho said, scratching the back of his head because he was now completely questioning his own idea. “Oh!!! I would absolutely love that!” You said, needing to contain your excitement. Something about a date like this really touched your heart and even if this wouldn’t go anywhere, you know you would remember it for the rest of your life.

He let out a sigh of relief before leading you to his studio, where he had set up a picnic blanket on the floor next to the large windows with a basket filled with treats. You couldn’t help but place your hand on your chest, your heart pounding because of how sweet he was.

“Jeong Yunho, I do believe you are a romantic.” You said, gesturing to the blanket and he had to hold back a laugh. “Maybe just a little bit... I just thought we could talk a bit while the clay is in the kiln.” He explained, well rambled more. He was absolutely making your heart melt and there was no doubt about it.

He sat you down behind the wheel after preparing everything for you, the damp clay sitting on top of the wheel. You looked up at him, questioning what to do because this was completely foreign territory to you. “Start spinning the wheel and wet your hands in that bowl and just start feeling around the clay a bit. Get a feel of what you’re doing.” He said, crouching down by your side. You followed his instructions, under his carefull gaze.

Yunho had guided your hands carefully from next to you, until you had accidentally placed way too much pressure on the clay and denting the form. “Oh, uhh let me see if I can fix that.” Yunho said, seeing how you struggled to get it back the way it was. You stood and he took your seat, his height when sitting coming up to your shoulders. He was mesmerizing to watch as he sculpted, eyes focussed on the wheel and lips kind of pursed. He was just so pretty.

“I think I get it.” You said and he looked at you in confusion. “This suits you, sitting here behind the pottery wheel, working with your hands. It really suits you. You’re completely in your element. It’s really beautiful to see.” You explained further and he allowed the wheel to slow down, to look up at you.

You didn’t even realise how close you were until you felt his breath fan over your lips and you suddenly felt excitement in your chest. So you made a split second decision, you made a judgement call.

Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his very soft looking, plump lips. Yunho was caught off guard, not having expected that at all but not complaining either. In the few hours you had maybe spent together, there was something completely undeniable there.

Now admittedly, the kiss was too long for it to be a peck and that was because Yunho could’ve sworn he tasted strawberry on your lips. It left him wanting more, so he deepened the kiss and for a moment you forgot your hands were covered in wet clay. You cupped his face, only for him to laugh against your lips and you realised your mistake.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry.” You said, pulling away and looking at your hand prints on his cheeks. Yunho couldn’t stop laughing, maybe because of how ridiculously funny the situation was or maybe because of the pure joy he was feeling. “I got too caught up - I- I- completely forgot my hands were-.” You explained in frustration, really wanting to cover your face in embarrassment but deciding against it with better judgement.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Can you just maybe wash your hands and then hand me that washcloth by the sink?” He asked and you did as told quickly bringing him the damp cloth to help him get your marks off of him. His cheeks and ears were flushed the whole time as you did so, eyes following your movements and reading the concern on your face. “It’s really okay.” Yunho laughed, comforting you a little more but you couldn’t help but stay embarrassed. “It’s definitely a story to tell. Not my best first kiss admittedly.” You said and pushed your hair out of your face, not your brightest moment most definitely.

“I mean, I could act like it didn’t happen. Or we could just have a do over?” Yunho suggested, placing the cloth down on the counter and looking at you with a cheeky smile. He just wanted to make sure it was really strawberry he was tasting on your lips. “A do-over?” You asked, crossing your arms and looking up at him.

His hands came up to your waist, pulling you a tad closer by the belt loops of your overalls before leaning down to your level again. You cupped his face, allowing your thumbs to run over the smooth skin of his cheeks and smilled to yourself. “Oh sunshine, you’re just the cutest.” He said softly and closed the space inbetween you too. This was it, this was what it was supposed to feel like. Butterflies flying around your stomach and your heart pounding in your chest because of how badly you wanted to kiss someone. This was right.

Your hands moved from his cheeks to his hair as he deepened the kiss, tasting that sweet strawberry flavor again and making a mental note to ask you about it later. His hands held your waist gently, not moving in any way in fear of overstepping his boundaries.

Pulling away again, this time with a considerable less amount of embarrassment, you placed your hands on his chest gently. “You see, that’s what I was trying to do.” You said softly, toying with the fabric of his shirt. “I figured.” He said in response, letting eachother go in the process. “Your lips taste like strawberries, as if you couldn’t get any more sweet.” Yunho commented, just looking at you with mild disbelief as you sat behind the pottery wheel again. You knew exactly why you tasted that way, you were experimenting with strawberry creme for on top of cupcakes and had to taste test it.

“Come by the café some more and I’ll show you why.” You smiled cheekily and started to spin the wheel again, wanting to finish your vase. “Hmm, sounds good. It sounds like another date.”

“That’ll be 7.50.” You said cheerily before going to pour her coffee and grab her 2 slices of coffee cake. You handed her, her items and waved her out of the store before letting out a sigh. There was a dip in how busy it was and you had a moment to relax.

“I just noticed that your customer service voice is the same as your regular voice.” Hongjoong said from the table closest to your counter. He had been coming in on his breaks to hang out and talk and well this was one of those times. “Is it? I never noticed.” You asked with a raised brow, Hongjoong shook his head at you. “I can’t believe your just genuinely that sweet.” He commented and went back to looking on his phone.

“Of course Y/N’s that sweet.” Yunho’s voice came in from behind you, knowing he came in through the back. His hands moved to your hips from behind and rested his head on your shoulder. “They even smell cake 90% of the time.” He added on before kissing your cheek. This earned a blush from you and a sigh coupled with an eyeroll from Hongjoong.

“Disgustingly cute.” Hongjoong grumbled, standing from his seat and grabbing his coffee. “I’ll be taking this to go.” He added, leaving your cafe to give you both a shred of privacy.

Laughing, you turned around in Yunho’s arm and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Hi.” You said softly, toying with the hairs on the back of his neck. A few months in and you were incredibly close, ridiculously in love. The whole neighborhood knew, the whole neighborhood thought it was disgustingly cute and well you were incredibly happy.

“Hi.” He said back, leaning you backwards to press you against your counter. He had been missing you all day, all week more like. With the school breaks on top of general vacation days, business had been going quite well. But that also meant a little less time together. Which was alright, that was healthy but God Yunho was missing you.

He kissed your cheek, moving his lips over your skin lightly to pay you some special attention because there was no one in the cafe anyways and there was just something about getting you so flustered.

“What’s gotten into you?” You asked, taking a deep breath as his lips moved over your neck and down to the neckline of your dress. “When can I get you alone for more than 5 minutes?” Yunho asked, pulling his lips away from you again. He could tell you were breathing a little heavier and your cheeks were flushed, exactly what he wanted.

“I think I have more than 5 minutes of alone time after work.” You explained, only for his lips to find the base of your neck again. His hands were now massaging your sides, bunching up your dress slightly when the bell of your door rang.

“I forgot my phone and I’m glad I saw this so that I can leave a bad review on yelp.” Hongjoong said and you both pulled away from eachother quite quickly. “Come by the shop after you close up okay sunshine?” Yunho said, trying to hide his embarrassment as Hongjoong gave him a dirty look.

“I will.” You said, quickly pecking his lips one more time before he exited your shop. You were a total shade of pink because of the way Hongjoong was looking at you. “Don’t say anything.” You said, pointing your finger in his direction the second Yunho left. He started laughing, grabbing his phone from the table. “You two are so in love it’s disgusting. Get married already, have coffee filled, artsy babies.” He teased and you shook your head. “It seems like you two were half way there already, wonder what would’ve happened if I didn’t walk in.” He added and you turned away, suddenly feeling the need to keep your hands busy.

“Probably nothing, we haven’t gone that far. Doubt it would’ve happened in broad daylight, in an open café.” You said, now wiping down a fully clean counter to get out of your own mind. You wanted to take that next step with Yunho and he seemingly wanted to take that step too.

So you made your way over to his shop after closing, checking the way you looked in the reflection on the windows before entering. You weren’t nervous, at all actually. Everything felt certain with him and so did this. You instantly walked to studio portion of his shop, anticipation in your chest as you pushed the door open.

“Hey you closed early.” Yunho said as he cleaned his counter by the sink. “I did. Thought maybe we could stretch those 5 minutes into a few hours.” You said softly, walking behind him to hug him from behind. You missed him the last few days too, you were definitely realising it while holding him. “You can’t just kiss me like that in the middle of the day and leave.” You mumbled against him as his hands found your, drawing shapes into your skin with his fingers.

“Sorry about the inconvenience.” He chuckled and pulled you to stand in front of him, wedging you between him and the counter. “Big inconvenience. I’ve been thinking about you all day.” You leaned back onto the counter as Yunho took a step forward. His thigh, wedging between your legs as he did so. He was completely hovering over you, hands finding purchase on your hips. “Maybe that’s what I wanted.” His voice was a tone lower than normal, making your tongue dart out to wet your lips.

You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him close because you really couldn’t wait much longer and kissed him. Yunho loved it when he brought you to that point because he found it oh so endearing when you needed him so badly.

Using his hands, he lifted you up onto the counter fully making your dress bunch up slightly. His hands moved down to the newly exposed flesh of your thighs as his tongue slipped into your mouth. This, this was what drove him insane because everytime he kissed your lips you tasted so sweet.

You tugged his hair as his grip on you tightened, making him groan against your lips. “How do you do it, you always taste so sweet?” He asked with his forehead pressed against yours. You leaned forward a little, making your core come into contact with his denim clad thigh and you whimpered before answering him. “That’s for me to know and you to be amazed by.” Shaking his head at your answer, he pressed his lips to yours again absolutely not caring if it was sloppy or not.

He continued to pull your hips down, making your core rub over his thigh and you couldn’t help but pull his hair harshly. This made him nip down on your bottom lip before moving his hands to hike up the skirt of your dress. He was absolutely obsessed with how soft your skin was in his hands every new inch that was revealed, didn’t disappoint.

Moving his lips down your neck again, he made sure to nip down on your skin and making you gasp. Yunho was going with intent to leave marks, there was just something that made him compelled to do so. His hands moved to your waist to drag you closer to edge of the counter and closer to him. His fingertips finding the hem of your panties to toy with them, making heat pool between your legs even more.

His mouth stopped at the neckline of your dress, before he looked up at you. “Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging on your dress slightly. The little question making heat rise to your cheeks. “Yes, you can.” You answered softly, helping him lift the fabric off of your body. You were about to throw your dress to the side when took it from you, folding it before laying it down gently on a chair. You sat, kicking your legs slightly as you watched him because the action made your heart flutter.

“Don’t want your dress to get dirty.” He said, turning back around to look at you. He could feel his heart stop a moment, you were incredibly just so incredibly beautiful to him. The dim lit room, coupled with your slightly swollen lips, pink cheeks and the fact that you were sitting there in nothing but your underwear, it was driving him insane.

“God you look...” Yunho started, walking back to you to wrap his arms around your bare waist. You curled his hair between your fingers, looking him the eyes. “Absolutely beautiful.” His eyes sparkled as he spoke, making your whole body fill with warmth as he looked at you. You wrapped your legs around him, to pull him even closer to you. “I’m feeling a little self conscious here. Can you maybe?” You didn’t finish your sentence, just tugging on his shirt in hopes he’d get the message. He pulled it off of him and simply threw it on the ground, not giving it the same care he gave your dress. “I don’t care if that gets dirty.” He said before kissing your lips quickly and sinking down to his knees.

Eye level with your core, he traced his fingers over your clothed slit slowly, looking at you to see your response. Your eyes were shut up and your lips were agape, body tensing as his finger grazed your clit. That was enough for him to hook his fingers into the lace, tugging your panties down your legs. You brought your hand to your face, taking your thumb between your teeth as Yunho pulled your legs over his shoulders.

He feathered kisses over your thighs, squeezing them as he did so and inching closer and closer to where you needed him. “You’re going to tease me when I’ve already been thinking about you all day?” You asked, voice muffled by your own hand. He looked up at you again, eyes darker and blinking at you. “Yes, because it seems to be working.” He answered, dragging his fingers over your slit. “You’re so wet, Sunshine.” He finished, kissing your clit lightly and your hips bucked for more friction.

He looked up at you one more time, taking a mental image of you with your finger caught between your teeth just staring at him before kissing you again. Allowing his tongue to move over your folds and tasting you. You attempted to clamp your legs shut at the sensation only for him to hold them open, not allowing you to go anywhere as he ate you out. Lips wrapping around your clit and making you moan out loud. Your hand moved to grip his hair, just wanting him even closer to you because fuck... he was making you feel so good.

“Yunho-” You moaned, making his fingertips dig further into your thighs. “Sunshine, you even taste sweet.” He commented, kissing your thighs again as you tugged on his hair for more. “Baby please don’t stop.” You begged, nearly pouting as you did so because you were oh so close to cumming.

He stood back up, face now level with yours again and you whined. “Relax.” He said softly, hand trailing down your body before cupping your core. His finger teased your hole while the other hand cupped your face, slipping a finger into and watching every expression as he did so. Yunho thrust his fingers into you harshly as your mouth fell open again. Eyes locked onto Yunho’s as he drew you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your fingers clawed at his arms as the coil in your stomach tightened. “Yunho, please.” You whined, feeling him insert another finger and stretching you out.

He sped up his pace, feeling you tighten around his fingers and the scratching down his arms get harder. “Come on, cum for me sunshine.” He pressed his forehead against yours as you let out a small scream that faded into a whine. The coil bursting as his fingers continued thrusting into you. Your face burried into his neck as you held onto him, needing something to brace yourself with.

He watched you slump into his arms, using his hand that was holding your face to now stroke your hair. “You’re alright.” He cooed, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his hardon pressing against his jeans. You kept your face in his neck as your hands moved from his arms down his chest and torso. Trailing down the faint outline of abs as your hands went down, resting on the button of his jeans as you finally looked at him again.

“I love you.” You said softly, as if it was a secret and you were in a crowded room. Your fingers undid his jeans, not waiting on a response from him. If he wasn’t there yet, he wasn’t there.

“Hey.” He cupped your face again, making your focus now be solely on him. You hardly gave him time to respond to your confession before you went undo his jeans, he needed you to focus on what he was going to say because he could tell you were scared for his answer.

“Relax, Sunshine. I love you too.” He said, taking in the way your eyes widened at his words. “I- I- can I?” You stuttered, gesturing to his jeans. “Yes, yes you can.” He laughed, continuing to cup your face as you undid his jeans and dragged the zipper down. He hummed as your fingers grazed his hard on, gripping your face a little tighter making you smile.

“Now who’s teasing?” He asked you and you giggled, only for him to shake his head. He grabbed your hands and pulled them off of his jeans so that he could pull them down, together with his briefs. “Can’t deal with what you dish out?” You asked and he shook his head, placing his hand next to your hips on the counter. “Not nearly as well.” He admitted and you wrapped your legs around his bare waist to pull him against you.

His free hand gripped the base of his cock as he rubbed it over your folds. You held the back of his neck, watching his actions before he slipped into you slowly. Your nails dug into his skin, making goosebumps coat his skin as he sheathed himself into you fully. The whimper you let out of was like music to his ears and the way you felt wrapped around him was better than he dreamed of.

Yunho gave you a moment to adjust before wrapping his arms around your waist and almost picking you up off of the counter. It caught you by surprise making you hold onto him even tighter. “Fuck Yunho.” You hummed, as he started thrusting into you, using the leverage he had gotten from holding you. His pace picked up, fucking into you slowly as your sounds filled his studio.

“You feel so good, Sunshine.” He praised, a low moan leaving his mouth afterwards as you scratched down his back. He thrusted a bit harder and faster, needing a taste of that sweet release because he too had been thinking about you all day.

“Right there-” You choked out as he hit your sweet spot, the heels of your feet digging into his thighs. He pressed his face into your neck, placing kisses everywhere he could reach and sucking even more marks into your skin. He continued actions, making you tighten around him very quickly. He let go of your waist to place one of his hands by your side on the counter and the other down to rub your clit, giving him leverage to bring you both to the edge quickly. Your hands moved to his arms, scratching down them as well just adding to the pleasure he was going through.

“Sunshine, I’m really close.” He moaned out, hips staggering slightly as he continuously rubbed your clit. You pet his hair, drawing his attention back to your face and that was it for him. You looked oh so fucked out and the way you were holding on to him, it was enough to send him over the edge. His hips stopped as he came inside of you, head drooping and beautiful loud moans leaving him as he did so. However, his fingers never stopped circling your clit and threw you over the edge with him.

He was a mess, moaning at the feeling of you contracting around him and the overstimulation of it. The way you felt holding on to him, stroking his skin as you both calmed down. He was now holding you close against his chest, still resting inside you for a moment as you caught your breaths.

“I meant it you know, when I said I love you back.” Yunho’s voice was soft spoken as he pet your hair. “I know.” You said as you traced over his arm. “Good, just wanted to make sure you knew I didn’t just say it because we were having sex.” He explained, body leaving yours and making you sigh.

“I know I definitely didn’t just say it because of that.” You said as he handed you back your underwear. “That’s good.” He smiled at you that goofy smile, eyes filled with love. You shook your head, before grabbing his face gently and pulling him for another quick kiss. You just really wanted him to know that you meant it.

“Come on, let’s go to my place. Maybe watch a movie, eat dinner, have round 2. All of the options are allowed.” He said laughing before handing you your dress, as you rolled your eyes at his words.

“Ah Sunshine, I love you to bits.”

“The back of Yunho’s neck looks like he’s been mauled by a tiger, you wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that?” Hongjoong asked as he entered Yunho’s shop the next day. He had to run errands and asked you to watch his shop for a moment, so there you were sitting behind his counter and painting a piece of pottery you had helped him make not to long before.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” You said, needing to bite on your lips to contain your smile as you continued to paint the clay. “Uh-huh, tell that to those hickies all over your neck.” He commented and you looked at him. “Do you ever spend time in your own store?” You asked in frustration and he started laughing, pointing at you. “I knew it!” He laughed and you shook your head. “Okay, okay. Shut up about it.” You hid your face in your hands, feeling how beat red you were.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop teasing.” Hongjoong joked, walking around the shelves of pottery. No one else was in the shop, so the conversation wasn’t entirely inappropriate. “But it was good though? No hiccups, no awkward situations?” He asked and you could only smile at the thought of it all. “No, nothing awkward.” You said and he stood in front of the counter again.

“I told him I love him for the first time.” You added quickly, simply going back to painting. “Wait, you did? For the first time? It took you both that long?” Admittedly Hongjoong wasn’t wrong, but you had felt love for him a long time ago. There just wasn’t a desire to vocalize it just yet, on either end. “I mean it was obvious that you too loved eachother, I’m just surprised it took you so long to say it.” Hongjoong explained and you nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. But sometimes it’s better to just wait until there’s that moment. That perfect moment to say it.” Last night was most definitely that moment for you.

The store bell made you both redirect your attention to the door. Only for Yunho to pop his head in and look at you. “I was half way to the store when I realised that I didn’t ask you needed anything.” He said, smiling at you with stars in his eyes. “You could’ve just texted me.” You smiled back as Hongjoong watched the interaction. “I could’ve, but I would rather just walk back and see you instead.” He explained and Hongjoong laughed.

“You two, you two are something else.” Hongjoong commented and Yunho shook his head. “But you don’t need anything?” He asked and you shook your head. “No, I got all I need.” You said and he nodded before going to leave again. “I love you, Sunshine.” He said quickly, shutting the door behind him. “I love you too.” You said smiling, knowing he couldn’t hear you anymore but still taking the time to do it. Hongjoong rolled his eyes at you and opened his mouth to say something.

“As disgusting as you two are, how cute you are together makes up for it.”

A/N: Feedback is kind!

I’m not completely satisfied with the ending but I still like this story alot. Sometimes you just need some happy stories. I hope you guys enjoy!

#yunho #yunho smut #ateez #ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez reaction

636 notes · View notes

sanghyukstattoos · 3 years ago

Text

SF9: sexual expressions

Genres: multiple au's [warnings: brief mentions of death, trauma, anxiety]; fluff-fluff-fluff; smut-smut-smut [contains mention/description of somnophilia kink (gentler than it's description), semi-public sex, baby-making, oral, mutual masturbation]

A/N: None of the images in the collage are mine, refer to here for more; For more SF9, read here, for iKON, read here and for optional bias writings, read here

Youngbin:

There's something in his expression, that rolls off his tongue when crass bursts of arousal coarse through him, rushing everywhere in such a natural manner, whether he's found something nice or in joy, his breathy moans and gasp-less breaths are something that awaken arousal, specifically yours. At first his moans may be muffled but as he relaxes, he opens up in the comfort an safety of being with you, you whose presence allows him to lower his tense state. To watch you would be his first thought but as your head bobs and you use your hand in a way that makes his back arch and moans fervently spill, he gets distracted, closing his eyes and losing himself in everything that floats around him. At the end, his thighs may quiver but he's already reaching for you, pulling you into his arms. Onto the bed or tent or the sheet that is rumpled in the back of his truck, he slips into you, groaning, sighing an settling into you. He takes his time to start moving, kissing your cheeks as he does. With every rush of arousal, he lightly bites your shoulder, enough for you to feel his teeth but not enough to hurt you. He caresses your backside the most, squeezing the flesh, especially as he releases. But even when you are on all fours, he makes sure to admire your backside, responding to your moans when he softly hits the flesh or uses your waist as a guide along his cock. He'll describe how feels, ''You're so warm'' or something like that, something that wrecks you and also him to pound into you, picking up the pace. When it's the end of a long day and you want to make love, he'll settle with you under the covers and gently rock himself against you, allowing you to vent or just speak to him then, killing two birds with one stone. This is because he knows that both of you will fall asleep immediately. In line with this, there is also something I want to try: Youngbin with somnophilia kink. This won't be as intense as it's description. Two to three hours after the both of you have fallen asleep, he wakes up, with a small desire already in his mind but it's when he sees you that his desires grow and he wakes you, kissing your tired self out of the haziness of falling back asleep. He feels a little guilty yes, but his thoughts are hay-wired at the moment towards you. If you respond to his desires with your vocal agreement, he won't hesitate to slip into your heat, groaning in relief at the way your core swallows every inch of his cock and soon, he'll pound you into the mattress. ''Binnie'', you ask as he slows down to see your sex taking in his cock, he hums, placing his head in between your breasts or on your chest, listening, ''Go faster please.'', which he chuckles and immediately agrees too. When you release and neither of you are ready to fall back asleep, he tugs you towards the window- one of your favourite places to have sex, it was where he took you when you had sex for the first time. Your chest against the glass, he takes you from behind, quietening himself to hear your moans and whimpers and well-demands. Demands which when came from you, he would easily comply too.

Inseong:

His sounds? Beautiful.

I'll try out this idea as well, since you asked about expression during sex: speaking. Perhaps out of excitement, he'll tell you stuff from the top of his head. Sweet words like, ''You're so beautiful'', ''so pretty, my love'', or whisper to you, ''I'm so excited'' always eliciting a a beautiful laugh from you, ''heh, cutie'', you may reply with this nickname which soothes his ears and tickles his sides with excitement. The first couple of time you have sex, he may be serious, furrowing his brows in concentration on how he is feeling. Accordingly, his sounds may alert you to his status, breathy moans are his main type of vocalisation he would let out, maybe when you suck him off or you have sex. He may even struggle on sounds the first couple of time but it's something that he doesn't dwell on too much after speaking to you about it, ''Don't worry, just let out how you feel about it.'' you said and he did exactly that. His type of sex with you is to make every moment last, each significant piece of memory stamped with your intimacy on it. When he eases himself into the comfort of having sex with you, he'll start to tell you jokes, inciting a bright atmosphere between you two. Armed with his jokes, he'll make you laugh and it'll always be something between you two, leading to or being inside jokes, never something from outside your intimate space. He's also the type to make a haven out of you bedroom space, together, you would attach a cover above your bed and leave the lights on, glazing your naked bodies like sleeping in a tent under the stars, except that it is in your bedroom. The space is safe, free to speak each other about anything and everything. During discussions, he would love to hold you, your waist or lean on his elbows and listen to you, about your day and how you are feeling. It's there that you'll make love to one another, setting each other's minds free from the ongoing troubles and/or enjoying your peace. He's got a nickname for you, maybe something from your name that he'll tell you really sweetly when he starts his conversation with you as he enters you. He'll pay attention to your sounds, ''You feel good baby?'' is his question, filled with his innocence behind them. You nod. ''Fuck- I feel so good baby'' is one of them, he'd whimper it out, followed by his stuttering moans, open and filling your ears. He sounds absolutely beautiful. ''Seongie, let me take care of you'', ''You don't have to baby'' he'll say and if you do continue, he'll go on to then lose himself in the pleasure you give, you curiously peeking eyes at his state that once your eyes connect, he doesn't leave your gaze.

Jaeyoon:

Regal Jaeyoon

He's got it out for you in the most playful way possible. He could've met you just yesterday, last week, two months ago or you've been childhood friends, regardless he sees the beauty in you. He's got many sides to him as does everyone, but unlike being around them, he understands that he can freely show them to you for example, his anger which would not be a suitable look on the king-to-be. When he's angry, he paces around in the study room before thinking that he should ask you for your opinion. So he comes to your room in the palace or picks you up outside your house, sitting side by side on the stone sculptures that are topped with granite to make for a seat or just to hang by when looking outside, swinging his legs. His hand on the cool granite and yours are not far from one another, he wishes to hold your hand and to hold you in his arms but he's not sure, he would want you to be okay with it first. But how does he get there? You can bet that he'll chase you around the market, his heart beating extra fast when he catches you. Having just recently figured out his feelings for you, he hesitates to tickle you as he usually does, instead he feels the need, the desire to connect your lips. His lips are soft and warm and he tastes of a fruit he just ate, apple or mango slices and to him, your response is everything. Your hands wander up his coat lapels, reaching his shirt collar and tugging him closer, lovingly. He giggles when you break away and he can't stop the smile that lights his whole expression, looking at you with possibly all the love in in his eyes and he doesn't notice that this occurs whenever he looks at you. ''Jaeyoon...'' you start, chuckling when he's just about to kiss you but then he pulls away to hear what you have to say, nodding to tell you that he's listening. You laugh at his adorable movement, bringing him closer for another kiss, ''I have so many questions'', ''shoot!'' he adorably says but you shake your head instead, wrapping your hands around him and the two of you bring yourselves together, under the bright summer lights and muffled screeching of seagulls arguing over who gets the last bread crumb.

I'm not sure if Jaeyoon's one for semi-public sex or not, I've been quite conflicted in my thoughts about this. He may not be or he may be, especially if he's horny for you, more often that not, in places he shouldn't do. Imagine that you are moving to a new place, your sofa is strapped at the back of the moving truck. He's going to drive you but he's not ready to move the truck all morning. He'd let you know that he's in the mood by having you in his arms and well grabbing your ass, dipping his hand in between your thighs, ''y/n, I want you.'', he'd say, plain and simple. You'd kiss and kiss till he's settle you down on the sofa, the truck parked in between two tall structures on a sun-out, non-traffic studded cobble road. ''Really?'', you shouldn't be surprised as you look at your boyfriend rolling on the condom and entering you, ''Really?'', ''yes'', he says laughing, ''Yes baby, god I love you so much.'', he's overcome with emotions. He loves when you grab his ass during sex, especially when he has you under him, filling you up with his cock till he's released and is looking around, tugging his trousers up. He gives you his hand, leading you into the front seats. For whatever reason, he doesn't let go of your hand, ''So you going to drive or?'', ''I'm not sure that we should leave right now.'', ''We need to be there by noon, it's already oh!- five thirty. We have to leave now.'', ''Okay'' he nods, picking up the pace to your new house. You unload all your stuff into the house and then, it's the cardboard boxes. He's looking around, trying to make this work. At the back his mind, he knows that he's going to help you unpack and maybe even move in with you but for now, he's a little distracted. You can't help but ask, ''Babe'', ''Huh?'', ''What's going on? You are just staring at the boxes'', you say smiling when you spell it out. ''I'm just uh- come here?'', you go over, going to look at something. He sits on one of the boxes and pulls you onto his lap, placing soft kisses along your neck. The ache in his groin stirs and he groans into your neck. The image of you having sex moments ago is still engrained into his head, your sweaty skin and visual expressions, sounds are still on his mind. He gently slips your open shirt over your shoulders and your bra strap along with it, placing a kiss on your breast, hands wandering up and down your waist all the time. ''Don't stress over the move, you've got a lot of time.''. The moment is forever in your mind, fresh or not, it's a significant period of time, the time in between a few moments ago and getting accustomed to your new house. You manage to find a place outside, on the lawn with it's fresh grass, your clothes off and him making love to you. All the energy he had before comes back, as the sounds of hips snapping against yours can be heard as compared to his words, ''You're so beautiful'' and other random mumblings about you. It's too sweet. The scene I imagine now is that you are riding him in your new background, his back on the grass and you circle your hips, steadying yourself on his toned tummy. His moans sound sweet, just like when he whines softly, muffled, stuttering ever so often. When he's close and the snapping of your hips grow quicker, his moans get more breathy and the look on his face is one as a result of his closeness to releasing. The look of his as he releases could best describe the phrase, 'like the crashing of waves on a summer day'.

Dawon | Lee Sanghyuk:

Oh, what a cutie! His part in Fanatic!

I have an inkling that he sounds pretty when he's in his element of safety and comfort around you and especially, with you. Let's take our imaginations somewhere, possibly fun!: With his regal stage outfit, the one of blue and white, imagine that you meet him in Narnia, transported via the painting. The room that was once filled with water from the Sea on High Waters painting leaves you and washes you onto a beach of an island, dry. You are surprised but also pleasantly happy to be back, it's been some time since you've seen your relatives. Forward, there's nothing for miles except for water, happily splashing around in the midst of a summer day where breeze gently blows past your ears. Behind are walls of rock of an impossible feat, at least to climb. Further on top, you have to squint to see, there are the unmistakable green flashes of leaves and trees with sways a result of stronger breeze. On this beach is where you meet Sanghyuk. He's dressed in a way that a royal would, if not, that's how he walks, along with his soldiers. The buttons to his sleeveless blue coat are open and his crew look tired, as if it's been a long journey here. ''Excuse me, who are you?'' he asks customarily, not sensing any danger. His soldiers hang back but not too far. ''I'm...'' but you are lost for words. How do you explain it? Crowned by Aslan? You have no idea who they are. ''Come with me" he says, looking here and there, urgency in his tone. It's funny how he disarms your cautiousness, with his honesty and personality- humour that goes straight to your heart. ''Give me a minute'', he mentions to one of his crew members and with that, he shows you past the railing of the huge boat. It has it's name engraved in white right below you but you can't make out it's name. ''See, after we crash landed- the storms'' he clarifies, ''we've been stuck here''. He smiles even as he says it and then you realise, even in such a terrifying situation, how beautiful his smile is. He's optimistic, it should help with the rest of your journey, you think. And it does. You begin. Just before you make your first stop, you encounter magic in the form of gold, so much gold just scattered all over the valley. A trap. Anybody who came here died. You found skeletons under all of it. ''We need to get out of here'', at that moment, dust swarms your vision in a regulated dance, as if it has had time to practice on all the people that came before. You collectively shudder at the thought but at the end, you live. It is your bravery and ever longing passion to fight for what is right that impresses him. Along the way, you tell him the truth, one secret for the other except that it's not a secret and neither of you have anything to hide. Because it's something to be hidden either. You get to know one another after that, introduced properly after your revelations. You find somewhere inside the forest to rest, on a thin sheet, here to rest for the night. You are anxious. He hovers over you, running his hands up and down your arms. Soothing you, that is the feeling, with him it feels safer, almost as if your anxiety about the previous fight has been sucked away, into the lost abyss of any voice in this forest. His crew members are searching. ''Look at me'', he says, softly, like a command but sincerely, ''Does it work on your crew, when you speak to them like that?'' you tease softly from under him, curiously committing his features to memory. Out of all your adventures, this one was going to be your favourite, you could tell. ''If they knew..'' he trails off sweetly kissing your neck, ''They would never leave me alone.'', he ends with a chuckle. You chuckle at it too. You take in a breath and it occurs to you that as much as you are relaxed, you haven't taken a breath in a while. He eyes you, keenly, wondering if you should be okay with this. Your secrets are out in the open and he has no reason to worry, the last thought along calms him. ''Less talking Hyukie'', you murmur, grappling at his coat lapels. He perks up, it is because of the name. That name, he thinks, uttered

so softly, containing so much love. It is as if you read his mind that you murmur once again, ''Hyukie'', ever so softly now, drawing him upwards and connecting your lips to his. The world is silenced, it's noise drowned out as well your tension, long forgotten now. He loves the nickname. It stirs him up, the way you say it, how you say it, he wants to keep hearing it. Then is the other concern that he will never see you after this, that you will be transported back to the world beyond the painting you came from.

He pushes it away as he reveals your top, exposing the curve of your breast ever so beautifully. And then he makes the brave move of uncovering your breasts, lingering his lips over the supple skin. Your stretch marks or not, your tattoos or not, or not, he kisses the skin, taking your perky bud into his mouth. He makes you gasp, swallowing the bud into his mouth and flickering his tongue around it. It's so arousing. There's a fire in your belly, of all the things he does to you, he cares for you. There's enough room for that. The most poignant is his voice, his groan when he's entering you, holding you and gasping at the unholy loving expression on your face. There are some things about you like your moans as he makes your toes curl and his face when you release for the nth time throughout that would make him release, immediately, on the spot, if he were to ever witness it if the two of you were not under such circumstances. He wants to hold you close to him, to relish in these moments he has with you because he doesn't know when it's going to finish, the expedition or- what the two of you have. So he does exactly that, gasping so prettily when you straddle him, ''You're so pretty you know?'' you can't help but say. Everything about the way he sees you right now, through hooded eyes that struggle to stay open because he wants to see, to commit, your waist that he holds as he guides you up and down on his cock, the way your breasts bounce, your expression and how you can't hold in your moans. From this position, you feel him in deeper, he moves his hands from your waist to holding your own, gently coaxing another release out of you. He takes in everything and moves in tandem with you, like two people on opposite sides of a street, instinctively walking when they see the signal turn green. Visually, he absorbs everything which is why, he couldn't be finished, not now. You lay in his arms, awake at almost six in the morning when the sun is barely peeking out from behind the mountains. You have a conversation about moments before when he awoke to you rustling your trousers on. He has his arms wrapped around you, like he doesn't want you to leave and from you confessing that you like him moments earlier, you suspect that you won't go now. His insatiability comes back when confesses that he likes you to, swathing you in his kisses, making you moan and grab him everywhere as you ask him of all the things he would gladly do for you.

Rowoon | Kim Seokwoo:

Possible au?, I'm in love with au's these days: I suspect that Seokwoo would introduce you to his cabin that is not to far away from civilisation. He could have met you as a new neighbour who recently moved into town and someone you grew close to very quickly or more towards the angel/demon au trope, he rescues you from a little accident which explain why he lives where he lives, there is nobody to bother him but is close enough for him to gather supplies. Truthfully, you could think of anything but the main principle applies: he is someone that you can trust and a person who lives in a balance of ambience and peacefulness whilst having fun. Every resident is excited since winter usually prolongs the days, making it seem as if its been cold for very long which some people enjoy and some people don't. Either way, summer dwindles the ice on the tree leaves, reducing it to puddles but it also brings out the playful sounds of birds and children and adults playing in the parks. If you are the new resident, he makes it a point to show you around, the parks, the offices, the restaurants, places to shop and relax. He also catches feelings for you, much more in a slow burn kind of way than fast falling and right from the start. Little touches or closeness makes him pause a beat and think about what he felt but sometimes he doesn't get that chance of thinking. It just occurs-when he's flustered. Say for example that you touch his hand or stand close to him, the proximity rises pink onto his cheeks, a prominent colour on him. You definitely go on a trip together, maybe a picnic on a day that is not particularly windy. This is different from meeting up outside of work or going on little adventures to the restaurants to try out a new cuisine or the pub or for shopping groceries. It's possible that he may not be shopping for himself but he'll accompany you where you go. All the times you go on a picnic are special to him, especially if you make some food for it, he'll appreciate it gladly but if you don't, he'll make it a point to make something. If you feed him, be assured that at first he may pull back but will like it very much, like the type that you love on second tries and continue loving it. It's then at the picnics that he'll gravitate towards what you like, he's curious in your tastes for example cotton candy or sweets or what games you like to play and your life before you came to this place. At pubs, you know what you like but he's not afraid to try out something new. It may be something that he'll want to share with you. Going to the pub becomes a thing when you want to speak to the other, tell each other about your day and eat and drink but most of all, to see the other person. Grocery shopping is well, the domestic side of him that makes you melt with his recommendations after staying in the place for so long that he knows what's good and what's not. It's only after you acknowledge your feelings for one another that he dwells on his sexual feelings for you, growing them one by one.

His voice is husky and it feels weird for me to describe it in this way but very naturally, it's a part of him. A part that you love. When he sees you from the back and surprises you, his voice makes it never sound like a surprise. Instead it soothes the tense posture you immediately assumed when you felt a figure come from behind you. His hugs are bear hugs, that he showers you with constantly, when he sees you, to hold you when you are upset and even when he is. When he nestles into your neck on a gloomy day, he can feel his stress seep away and bring something better- calm. It only goes to say then that when you make love, he loves to hold you in his arms, thrusting into your core. His moans make your feverish with delight, with a reflection of the icy weather melting into little puddles. It also become something that the two of you do, mutual masturbation, when you make out and as if on cue, you giggle and pull part. You lay on your back and he hovers above you, stroking his cock, small, breathy moans falling from his lips at the wonderous sight in front of him. At first if you are shy, he'll coax you softly with his voice, whispering, ''You can do this'', that little edge that it takes to soothe your mind and give it a go. In his eyes, you are a beauty and to see you fill yourself with your fingers makes him have to hold onto something, like grip the end of the bed or it's sheets tightly. After you release, he may take you to some other part of his cabin, maybe the kitchen to eat something but distracted by your naked body will he rub his cock in between your ass cheeks, putting you onto the counter and taking you from behind. In the way that makes your mouth fall open.

Zuho | Baek Juho:

Frustrated typing at his keyboards fills the room drawing a raise of your eyebrows half way up your forehead at the absolute demolition you hear. He leans back in his chair, sighing, ''You know, when was it?'', ''hm?'' he turns to you. The same chair he uses for producing, you are currently in his studio. ''Jaeyoon said that you couldn't game because you would... destroy the keyboard.'' and you have to laugh at this. He pretends to be unimpressed but a small smile peaks up in automatic response to seeing you smile. After seeing his expression, you laugh even more, his arms are crossed and he's staring at you as if to say, ironic but he won't say it out of a false hope at retaliation. You were pretty good, alright but to him, it was wonders! How could you do such stuff?! Moments later, he quits the game and opens a file, the studio grows peaceful as the keys of the keyboard are tapped in near silence, a huge contrast to the clickety-boom!-clackety of before. You grow bored. Feet shuffle from behind him and onto his lap, distracting him from his hold on his mouse and screen, your figure covers it. He smiles, innocently, very cutely in fact as you play with the material of his jumper, feeling his embrace bring him in-line with your chest which he nuzzles into. He sighs, asking, ''do you want to take a break?'', eliciting a yes! in thought and sound, tugging him to the sofa. The sofa is... comfy. You lay on it, extending your arms. He settles into them, hugging your waist and resting on your tummy. ''Ju?'', you ask, waiting a beat, ''How is it going?'', another way of asking his progress on the song, further leading to when you can listen to it. It's as if he knows your true questions because he says, ''Soon'', voice muffled by his hiding in your tummy. He pulls your top up, staring for a beat with a look that takes your breath away. His eyes... they marvel in deep thought that you think you know what he's about to ask you for your ''talk'' later. Your breath is taken away. You know what he wants to say, it's on the tip of your tongue but you can't voice it. Surely, you want to hear it from him even more. You would marvel even more then. ''Let's have that talk now?'', your breath hitches, pauses in your throat. He's got more reasons to come inside of your now and the thoughts makes your core ache. You squeeze your thighs together out of reflex. You sit up and so does he, his hands rests on your thigh. You can feel the heat from his legs that are so close to yours, suddenly becoming aware of his cologne that invades your senses. He reaches for your hand, eyes wide, looking around before he starts, ''Babe, I-'' but stops short. You hum, realising that it's importance made him pause. You give him an encouraging look, ''Go on, just say it, blurt it out, anything baby'', squeezing his hand in comfort. He sees your eyes, the love they have in them and he just says it, without a pause or hesitation. ''I want to have a baby, with you of course.'', he says and the last part provokes laughter. ''A baby?'', you ask, he nods, ''With me?'', now he sees that you are teasing and pulls back, ''But why? Why with me?''. Your laughter and playful teasing ease the tension he feels. At least you aren't averse to the idea. When you stop laughing, you reach to cusp his cheeks, ''Baby, I'd like that idea.''. Those words are enough for him to lose his mind. He thought that this decision would take time, weeks if not for just one day but his questions have been answered. Just like that, his shock wears off. It takes him less than a second to pull you up and start jumping around, out of pure joy. He sobers up pretty quickly though, must faster than you anticipate, he's pulling his stuff off the table, switching off the lights. ''Home?'' you ask, taking the lead. When you get into the car, you say, ''This is kinda funny, we couldn't possibly be running home for this.'', ''Why not?'', ''There's no expiry, at least not for now. We've got... time.'', ''Yes?'', ''Yes'' you confirm, nodding your head, heading home. ''Also, why are we going home?'' you ask,

''What do you mean?'' he replies, not believing why you have no idea that you're leaving his studio early. ''It feels weird to leave early.'', you want to stop over somewhere. He sees your anxiousness, ''Lets stop over the station and buy something to eat.'', pointing at the turn. When you get out of the car, you can finally breathe, leaving the anxiety accompanied by your decision earlier. He takes your hand, holding your cheek and pulling you closer. He needed to do this. To give you a kiss which he first places very delicately on your cheek and then on the corner of your lips, finally on your lips. The moment is everlasting. He cups both your cheeks, gently, kissing you lovingly as if to say a multitude of unspoken things.

*sigh*, dear anon, I did it again: I strayed off-topic. I should be ashamed but the above writing is gold so I will include the little titbits after this: Ju's voice colours everything he feels, even if it's just a little bit, his hands may twitch or he'll sound a low sound that will alert you of what he's feeling. His best sound is when he gasps, it's not too much neither too little. He throws his head back and his back arches, it takes a small breath for him to resume. The scene I imagine as I write this is him receiving a blowjob. Otherwise, he would love to try out having sex in new places with you. Against the counter? Having you lean against it as his cock fills you up? Slowly, lovingly? He's all for it, whatever or wherever you imagine yourself to be, with him.

Yoo Taeyang:

We'll start from the end: when he releases, his soft pants are capturing, distracting you even a little from your agenda of releasing your juices around his cock. His favourite position to have you ride his cock with your hands clutching his waist, circling your hips on his, he can't control the haziness that cloud his expression. His hands wander a lot though, to your nipples, pinching them but ever so often, he feels like tasting you. Having you in his mouth, to swirl his tongue around and relish in the beauty of how you taste. He brings you down, close to his chest so that he can take your bud in his mouth, ''I neglected this didn't I?'' and at your whines, he nods, chuckling, ''I'm sorry about that...'', trailing off to add extra vibration of pleasure that travel straight south. He's charismatic, without even trying.

Imagine another set of scenarios: Taeyang punishing. It's at a party, in a house containing lots of rooms save for the fact that the party is only on the first floor, you know that it's progress to the upper floors throughout the night. He takes you somewhere remote, messily clashing his lips against yours, tugging at your clothes. You've moved past the need for words. On your knees, you take his cock, bobbing your head and for the god lack of co-ordination, you stumble at first but he's quick to reassure you that you can do whatever for the first couple of times because he'll teach you well. His yelp is disappointingly loud when you playfully run your teeth along his cock and you peer up, to see his heated eyes, out of annoyance. ''On purpose?'' is the question that his expression seeks to answer but to which there is no answer. His moans are concealed when his hands land harshly on your ass, his cock red and hard no doubt. But instead, you pant and so does he, his breathing heavy and he struggles to stop just to fill you up. There's a hint of body worship that peeks out there, running his hands up and down your body, even into the dip in between your legs, coating his fingers in your juices. He loses control for a bit there, turning you around and kissing you with such high energy. His feelings for you- all over the place. In surprise, to contrast his previous energy, he gets down on his knees. He wants to. One leg over his shoulder, he dives in to taste your juices, placing kitten licks everywhere before pumping you with his digits, sucking greedily and only after he's wrecked you with one release or more as seen by your quivering thighs and shaking body but heated for more does he come back on top. If you don't think that you could release one more time, he's completely okay with it, equally loving your mouth on his cock that pushes him over the edge, once again with sheer force.

How about a best friends to lovers au now?: The suspect of loving you in this long-winded game is Taeyang, long-winded as in the past couple of months you've gotten to know one another. He's straightforward, to tell you that he likes you when the chance is there, an electric energy present, just before the two of you are about to kiss. He tells you how he feels about you. From there, your words satiate his nervous composure with relaxation. He kisses you, somewhat compose, majorly giddy from your confessions. He kisses you till your back hits the covers, passionately. Kissing your breasts (or chest), he loves to uncover you, to take his time, rocking his hips against yours in a pace that is just in between making love and fucking, he'll take your hot skin into his mouth, nipping and sucking and then hold your hands above your head, when a release rips through you. His groans beautifully grace your ears when he releases, kissing you once again. He would settle in beside you, giggling about what just occurred with a smile so shiningly bright or go to sleep and then wake up later to explore your attractions to one another, once again.

Hwiyoung | Kim Youngkyun:

Kyun has attitude

I'm sure that it may be not what you asked for but what is this blog without my ramblings??: When you first have sex together, he reaches for you. To touch you, to feel you and to remember every intimate moment he has with you. He'll feel your body, every part of you, your cheeks, chest, waist, tummy, inner thighs, backside and even places where stretch marks and/ or tattoos lie because those are personal to you. He'll show you and perhaps even tell you that your body is beautiful, multiple times. A beautiful session of making love follows. Where every moment is spent in each others arms as he fills you again and again, revelling in the sounds you make, Your cries, moans, whimpers incite him to hold you and continue his love-making.

His sounds vary but the majority are audible: his grunts when he enters you, his moans when he holds the headboard as he fucks into you or his cries that he let's out into the crook of your neck as you ride him. When he receives a blowjob, he doesn't hide his moans but it's not about hiding, he wants you to know. All in all, his sounds are low in tone, very pretty and arousing.

A little story for you, dear anon: It's summer! Unlike the others, this one is comparatively cooler. The breeze blows past your cheeks. You return home to find Youngkyun with an apron tied around his waist, delicately chopping the food and placing them into the utensil. The apron is an adorable sight that crinkles your eyes. For your boyfriend that regularly throws gang signs, it adds to the overall clarity of his cute demeanour. "Babe" you start your greetings but upon seeing you, he immediately throws off his apron and comes towards you, eliciting peels of laughter from you. He picks you up and places kisses all over your cheeks, ''I missed you'', he says, pouting. At your smile, he takes you to the bedroom, placing you on the bed. You wait, smiling, he's changing, ''Right now?'', ''Right now'', he nods, energy on full blast. He straddles you, placing smooth kisses everywhere, ''You are so pretty, you know that?'' he whispers, taking off your top and bottom. "Babe, really, how was your day?" you ask, the both of you laugh at the question as you switch positions, straddling him instead. Filling yourself up with his cock, you hear his little grunt upon entering and a sigh of relief comes from the both of you when he's completely in. The sounds he makes is beautiful in every tone. His hands on your backside guide your hips along his cock and ever so often, he let's out these pretty high-pitched moans, throwing his head back and swallowing all the arousal flooding through his body. You chuckle, moaning in his mouth as you give him a soft kiss. After you release, droplets of sweat can be seen on both of you and pink clouds his face, heated. Panic sets in his features. "What's going on-?" you ask, he doesn't move but points to the door, "the food". "We have to go save it", you say, little, displaced confessionals occurring now. You go to the kitchen and while he assesses for damage, you lean on your elbow, peeking at him in his naked form. It would very hard to argue with him if he was naked, you think. He nods, picking you and placing you on the counter, cuddling you. The moment could last forever. In between your legs, he doesn't bother with anything but laying peacefully in the crook of your neck, "Baby, I love you, I also feel like this was overdue", you chuckle, "of course not peach, I love you too" you say. A beat later, he kisses your neck, not hesitating to take a little bite that draws a laugh from you, ''Kyun!'', ''huh, babe?'' is his honest reply as he continues, till his mouth has reached your core.

Chani:

He grasps the back of your head, gently easing you along his cock. Eagerly, he watches your mouth swallow his cock, his own growing dry at the sight. A slight twitching to be expected, you chuckle at the expression on his face, ''Chani'', you take yourself off his cock, snapping his attention to you. Truthfully, he was so aroused by the sight, he lost himself in it. You chuckle, brushing away strands of hair from his face. ''What is it?'', you ask to which he responds by taking you hands in his and squeezing ever so subtly to let you know that nothing is wrong, ''I was just staring, I'm sorry-'' he goes to apologise but you shake your head, already knowing that he was absorbing the visuals. He is surprised that his mouth works, could he even speak after watching something so heavenly? He's not sure that words could be formed. He leans on one hand, sitting on the bed with you in between his legs, taking him into your mouth once more, eliciting a groan from him, soft to begin with, accompanied by the scrunch of his nose at the feeling of warmth. He looses him hand on the back of your head when he feels like he's about to fall on his back. Your hands slowly trail up his inner thighs, squeezing the flesh along the way, pumping his shaft to kitten lick his tip, a trail of saliva coating your mouth and connecting to his tip. His eyes, although occasionally close out of pure arousal, he makes sure that they are open. By the time he's about to release, a layer of sweat lines his pink-dusted, heated temples. When he's close, his moans grow louder and he pants, making unconfigurable noises. The words that he wants to tell you, how he's feeling, how good you are for him and to him get strangled in his throat, instead coming out as muffled noises and quivering thighs. If you let him release into your mouth, he collapses on his back after as you straddle him. After a few moments, he would be in the mood to eat you out and have sex with you after. If you take him out of your mouth and pump him, he would prefer to release all over your backside, your butt that he'll repeatedly squeeze and even take a bite out off when he eats you out before he fills you up. He's ready to make love with you, surprising you and himself with his energy, pent-up, ''I'm surprised'', ''About what? This?'', ''Yes, very much.'', ''Babe, look at me.'', ''Huh?'', ''After sleeping for half your life, you have accumulated these reserves of energy...'', ''Babe please'' he says, stifling his laughter at your teasing.

For his sounds, he could also be non audible. For whatever it is that the two of you are doing, he could be exploring what he is feeling, especially the first couple of times that he has sex or receives a blowjob or mutually masturbates, a new situation.

How about a detective Chani au?: He's a rough character, particularly because of his past experiences in his job, naming more death than life, he once found it hard to stay afloat all the floating bodies in his nightmares. He's been there and he's not willing to go back, he's struggling and he knows. In this au, you are a random stranger, cross-pairing from a different department to hunt down a very articular group of organised crime. Around you, his control on his behaviour slips, like his physical affection and how much he speaks, he guards himself on a daily basis, stubborn to keep it that way. He fights with you, demeaning you and when he hears your words, they ring in his ears and also bring about a familiar, painful feeling in his chest. Even when he kisses you. He's rough, pushing you on your hands and knees, taking you from behind. Then, unconsciously, he brings you to his chest when he realises that you must be close and praises you, ''You're doing so well''. He also realises that he wants you by his side. You don't pretend to know who he is, despite his true horror stories of dead backlogging teams and ruined missions, unlike the people he works with. Guilt long suppressed clouds his chest, it's a weird feeling, even when the two of you are done and you take him into your arms. He's crying. You give him some space. He looks up when you come back into the room with water and some tissues, ''Here, tell me why you've been such a dick.''.

174 notes · View notes

yelena-bellova · 4 years ago

Text

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

chapter three - Chapter Four: Madripoor - chapter five

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n, Sam and Bucky pay an eventful visit to Helmut Zemo in Berlin, heading to Madripoor soon after to get answers about the serum.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: spoilers for episode.3, angst, violence, description of injuries, a few crumbs for the slow burn, breaking the law and looking good doing it

A/N: These chapters always end up being so long lol. I was going to include the nightclub scene but it would’ve made it too long so sorry, it’ll have to wait a few more days. Forgive my shitty Russian translations, I’m on Google Translate and that’s not saying a lot.

----

“Not that it makes a difference, but I still don’t like this.” I’d voiced my displeasure about meeting with Zemo several times since we’d arrived in Germany. Even though we were already being led through the high security Berlin prison hallways, I still felt the urge to state my opinion.

The guard that was guiding us gestured towards a door, “He’s just through the corridor.”

“Give us a sec,” Bucky said, the three of us coming to a halt in the middle of the hall. “I’m gonna go in alone.” “Why?” Sam asked.

“You’re an Avenger, you know how he feels about that,” Bucky looked to me, “You, I’m trying to keep as far away from him as possible.”

“It’s not like you two were known for frolickin’ in the sun together,” Sam remarked.

“I’m gonna say it again,” I took an assertive step forward, “I don’t like this.”

“He was obsessed with HYDRA,” Bucky pushed, “We have a history together. Trust me, I got it.”

Taking my cue from Sam, who didn’t fight him any more, I nervously watched Bucky stalk down the hallway to the corridor that led to our possible next step.

“Is he really okay?” I asked, watching Bucky’s figure until he disappeared, “I feel like we’re going a little too far with this.” “He’s invested, which means he’s desperate,” Sam answered, leaning his back against the wall, “This is a little too much though.”

I copied his posture and we stood in silence, the occasional guard passing by. “What happened last night after I left the room? C’mon, you come out crying and you thought I was gonna let it go?” “Bucky and I were just…” I sighed, remembering the change that had happened between our two conversations, “Learning to get along. I told him about Steve, that’s never fun to relive.” “Ah,” Sam nodded, “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?” “You’re not mad at me that I gave up the shield, are you?”

My brows knitted together as I looked over at him, “Why would I be mad? Your decision wouldn’t have changed even if I was, would it?” “No, it wouldn’t have. But you were close to Steve too, you care about his legacy,” he went on, “We’re all angry about Walker. I don’t care if Bucky’s upset at me, but I always care if you are.” “Someone ever tell you you care too much sometimes?” I playfully nudged his sneaker with my own, “Of course I’m not mad, you know I support you no matter what. You made the right decision for you and you have nothing to apologize for. Bucky and even Steve don’t need to understand why you chose to give it up. Would it have been cool to say that my brother is Captain America?” I coaxed a laugh out of him, “Of course, but it doesn’t change how I see you. I’m just proud to say my brother is Sam Wilson.” He poked me with his elbow and smiled, “Now I remember why I keep you around.” “Y/n Y/l/n, Falcon’s Ego Booster.” We were sharing a laugh when Bucky came back around the corner. “That was quick,” I observed. He’d been in there five minutes tops.

“We’ve got our next stop.”

————

“What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo outta jail?” Sam questioned in the dark, “Where are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?”

“We have no leads, no moves, nothing,” Bucky replied, shining his flashlight around to try and find the power switch. I couldn’t clearly make out where he had brought us to, he’d brought us through the back door of the building. “So because we’ve hit one dead end, you want to spring one of the most dangerous men in the world out of prison?” I asked, shining my flashlight at Bucky causing him to throw a hand up to shield his eyes, “Bucky, I don’t-“ “Like this,” he finished, “I got that, but we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on the loose.” “Zemo’s gonna miss with our minds, especially yours,” Sam interjected, “No offense.” I made out Bucky’s silhouette reaching up a beam, a loud click of a switch and the lights began to turn on. “Offense,” he scowled.

With the lights on, we could finally see that we were in an auto shop. I was glad to be out of the prison but I wasn’t seeing the correlation between it and freeing Zemo.

“Super Soldiers go against everything he believes in,” Bucky continued, “He is crazy, but he still has a code.” “I’ve been on the wrong side of that code and so have you,” Sam countered, I’d heard in detail about the havoc Zemo had caused and the ramifications of his actions had caused Sam and Steve to become fugitives. Never mind what he’d done to Bucky…”He blew up the UN, he killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans forgot about it? It’s a rhetorical question, they didn’t. I know why this matters to you, but it’s pushing you off the deep end.”

Bucky stood in front of us now, “We don’t know how they’re gettin’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are,” Sam turned his back in frustration, “Look, let me just walk you two through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

“What did you do?” Sam asked suspiciously, turning halfway to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I didn’t…” Bucky’s looked away briefly, “Do anything.”

“Then by all means,” I leaned up against a beam and crossed my arms, not believing him at all, “Let’s ride the hypothetical train.” Bucky frowned at my sarcasm before launching into it, “The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element. Now, in this lockup, it’s nine to one, prisoners to guards. And if two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond.” “So why would two prisoners randomly start fighting at that moment?” Sam asked.

“Who knows? There could be many reasons…But the point is, these things escalate. Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated and with all those bodies flying around left and right, wouldn’t be hard to slip down a hallway or two. And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated, someone could use the chaos to their advantage.”

“My gut is sounding off every alarm it has right now,” I commented from my place across from Bucky.

“Yeah, I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this, this is unnatural,” Sam replied finally, “Are you- and where are we, man?” A nearby door closing caused us to turn our attention towards it, a silhouette appearing soon after through a curtain. The shadow became a man and walked through the cloth divider wearing the face I’d had etched in my brain since the day it hit the news.

“You son of a bitch,” I mumbled, creating a ball of energy quickly with my hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sam’s voice rose, walking with me towards the man, “What are you doin’ here?” Bucky was quick to throw himself in front of us, “No, listen. I didn’t want to tell you ‘cause I knew neither of you would let this happen.” “What the hell did you do?” I exclaimed.

“We need him,” Bucky said. Sam pointed to Zemo, “You’re going back to prison!”

“If I may,” the Sokovian man began, removing the hat of his stolen prison guard uniform.

“NO!” the three of us yelled at the same time. He hung his head, “Apologies…” Bucky turned back to Sam, “When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me,” when Sam averted his gaze, Bucky chased it, “I’m asking you to do it again.”

“And what about her?” Sam gestured to me and the ball of energy I still had formed in my palms, “What happens when she breaks the law?” Bucky’s pleading eyes drifted to me, “He’s our only shot at getting any answers.” My mind was wrestling with itself, his rightness was inevitably going to come at a cost we would all have to pay. On a technicality, yes, I could plead innocent to freeing Zemo. A coconspirator charge, I wouldn’t be so lucky with. But stopping the Flag Smashers meant saving lives and that wasn’t something I could walk away from. I deformed the energy in my hands in cautious surrender, “I’m already breakin’ the law by going against the accords, I need to make it worth it at least.” Sam shot me an exasperated glance, but he didn’t fight me.

“I really think I’m invaluable…” Zemo began from his corner.

“Shut up…” Sam warned, effectively shutting him up. Sam thought it all over for a second before pressing his flashlight to Bucky’s chest, “Okay. If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.” Zemo shrugged, “Fair.”

The three of us shared an uneasy look, there was no going back now. “Okay, Zemo, where do we start?”

“Follow me,” he smiled, leading the way out of the auto shop and expecting us to follow. Sam went first, eager to keep his eye on Zemo at all times while Bucky and I brought up the rear.

“I didn’t want to have to go this route,” he said from beside me as if he owed me some explanation for his actions. I sighed, trying to shut off the part of my brain that was screaming at me, “Just be right.”

We maneuvered through a few corridors until we hit a room filled with beautiful antique cars. “So our first move is grand theft auto?” Sam asked. “These are mine,” Zemo corrected, “Collected by family over the generations. I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it’s out there, someone can create an army of people…like the Avengers,” he dug through one of the cars to pull out a bag and coat, “I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished.” My eyes unavoidably flickered to Bucky, observing his reaction to hearing his old code name. He simply watched the man continue speaking. “To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.”

“Well, join the party. We’ve already started…” Sam commented.

“First stop is a woman named Selby,” Zemo stated as he headed for the exit, “Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb.”

Sam, Bucky and I left a gaping distance between us and him, we were still highly suspicious and I had a feeling we would be until our temporary partnership came to an end.

————

Zemo had gotten word to somebody that we’d be meeting them at a private airport in Berlin and flying to someplace called Madripoor. Somehow we’d made the journey without being recognized, even those of us who were wanted across the globe. “So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asked as we made our way towards the private plane.

“I’m a Baron, Sam,” Zemo answered, “My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.”

Zemo greeted the man standing outside the plane, who was dressed like a butler, in Sokovian. “Well,” I crossed my arms and watched one of the world’s most dangerous men exchange cheek kisses, “If we’re going to work with a criminal, at least we picked one that comes with transportation.” “Please,” Zemo said, gesturing for us to follow him up the plane’s steps. Sam awkwardly bowed to the butler and headed up. Bucky extended a hand towards the jet for me to go ahead of him before following closely behind.

When we filed into the plane, Sam and Zemo were already seated. I moved to take the chair across from the baron, wanting to keep as close an eye on him as I could. Bucky’s flesh arm reached out quickly and grabbed my shoulder, I turned to question him and met his wary expression. “Sit with Sam,” he muttered quietly, our faces close enough that I could feel his breath as he’d spoken. It dawned on me that he wanted me to have the safer position. I answered with a nod, maneuvering around him to sit across from Sam. Even though his hand had left my arm, I could still feel its print through my jacket.

We had been flying for maybe twenty minutes when Zemo’s butler, Oeznik, came in carrying a glass of champagne for Zemo and offering to whip up some food. It astounded me how to the world, he was evil yet to his servants, he was a joy. “You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell,” the baron said before looking over at my brother, “Oh, that’s right. You do.”

Sam bypassed the jab remarkably, “Why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?”

“I’m sorry, I was just fascinated by this,” Zemo held up a book, “I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?”

Not two seconds after the name had left his lips, Bucky out of his seat with his metal hand wrapped around Zemo’s neck. My heart stopped as I watched him lean over the man threateningly. “If you touch that book again,” he growled, “I’ll kill you.” This was a side of Bucky I had yet to see, the one that straddled the line between his dark past and his true self. As he sat back down, tucking the book in his pocket and refusing to meet my eyes, I could tell he wasn’t pleased with how he’d acted. I wasn’t in a place to criticize but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been slightly worried when his fingers hit Zemo’s skin.

“I’m sorry,” Zemo said, “I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” “Don’t push it,” Bucky rasped, collecting himself after the scene.

“I’ve seen that book,” Sam spoke up, “It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man, he wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?” “I like ’40’s music,” Bucky shrugged and looked out the window, “So…” “You didn’t like it?” Sam exclaimed.

“I liked it,” Bucky replied unconvincingly.

“It is a masterpiece, James,” Zemo chimed in, his hands forming a triangle, “Complete, comprehensive…It captures the African-American experience.” While my brows raised at the European’s surprising education, Sam’s furrowed. “He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great, everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

Bucky shook his head, “I like Marvin Gaye.” “Steve adored Marvin Gaye.” “He did,” I chuckled, reminiscing back to only last year, “Played him almost anytime I got in a car with him.” “You must have really looked up to Steve,” Zemo said, “But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals.” “Watch your step, Zemo…” Sam warned. “They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there,” he shrugged, “Cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” Zemo turned his attention to Bucky, “You remember that, right?” As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? That is why we’re going to Madripoor.” “What’s up with Madripoor?” Sam looked between the two men, “You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago,” Bucky grumbled, “It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” “It’s kept its lawless ways, but we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves,” Zemo’s unsettling eyes moved back to Bucky, “James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

With the way Bucky’s expression had changed in mere seconds from complacent to tortured, it didn’t take long to decode what Zemo was insinuating. “No,” I blurted out, “That’s not fair to ask of him.” “I admire your devotion, Y/n,” Zemo complimented with his lips to his champagne flute, taking a quick sip, “But you know nothing of how Madripoor works. If you want to get to Selby, we must have protection. More than that, we must have leverage. James can provide us both by simply playing a part.” “Devo-?” I shook my head, sidestepping Zemo’s comment, “That’s not playing a part, that’s like reliving every nightmare you’ve ever had. I-it’s like-“ “Y/n,” I turned to see Bucky’s chair rotated towards me, looking helpless and determined all at once, “We need in.” “Yeah, but…” I started to protested before seeing his eyes, those ocean blue eyes I was growing to feel comforted by begging me to let the subject go. I clenched my own y/e/c ones shut in frustration, “Okay.” “Now that that’s settled,” Zemo stood from his seat, “I will find us something to change into, we will need to blend in where we’re going.” ——

The silver dress Zemo had chosen for me was…it made me wonder just what kind of scene we were planning to enter. It was more revealing than anything I typically wore, but gorgeous nonetheless and fit perfectly.

As I was finishing my makeup in the bathroom of the plane, I had to take a second to steel myself for what was to come. This wasn’t just dallying with Super Soldiers any more, this was dancing with the criminal underworld. Zemo hadn’t told us yet the roles we were playing, only that we needed to stay in character at all cost. I had never felt more out of my depth, but had no choice but to rise to the occasion. Giving myself one last check in the mirror, I unlocked and exited the bathroom.

“Okay, I hope whoever I’m playing is bad with heels,” I held up the elaborate shoes Zemo had matched to my dress, “Because there’s no way I’m going to be graceful in these.” Sam looked up from tying his dress shoes, dressed in a maroon suit patterned with yellow circles. His eyes scanned my outfit unapprovingly. “Uh uh,” he protested, going full protective big brother, “Nope. It shows too much.” “It doesn’t matter what it shows,” I said, bending over to strap on the shoes, “It’s what I’ve got.” “She’s right,” Zemo chimed in, putting his jacket on, “You two are supposed to be rich, glamorous travelers of the world. You need to look the part,” he nodded towards me, “You wear it well.” I politely smiled at the baron and looked up to Bucky, perched in the far corner of the jet. His gaze was fixed on me, eyes quickly traveling down my body before quickly locking with mine. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his plush lips parted ever so slightly. I found myself just as drawn into him as he seemed to be with me, for a few seconds it was just the two of us shutting our surroundings out. It was…something. “You look nice,” Bucky finally said, his voice slightly strained.

My lips quirked upwards, “Thanks.” “It is time for us to leave,” Zemo announced, bursting the bubble Bucky and I had built, “You’d better get used to those shoes quickly, we’ll be making most of the journey by foot.” He hadn’t been lying. We departed the runway and walked our way towards the city. Madripoor looked beautiful on the outside, the high-rise buildings lit up in all different colors emitting a glow across the waters.

“We have to do something about this,” Sam finally exclaimed, holding the lapels of his patterned maroon suit, “I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.” “If you’re a pimp, what does that make me?” I gestured to the amount of skin I had on display, “Suck it up, Wilson.” “Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo added as we crossed the large bridge leading to the city, “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” Sam took Zemo’s phone from his outstretched hand, “He even has a bad nickname.”

I leaned over to look at the picture of Sam’s doppelgänger, “Hey, be nice. That’s your twin you’re talking about.” “And you,” Zemo addressed me, “Conrad is known for entertaining beautiful women, one after the other,” he ignored the faces of disgust Sam and I made at the thought of acting as a couple, “You will be playing tonight’s date, no need to come up with a name or a story as his dates are typically just arm candy.”

“So I’m supposed to just sit and look pretty?” I side eyed Zemo in annoyance, “Great.” “You smell this?” he asked the group.

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam asked.

“Madripoor,” Zemo answered, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error. High Town’s that way,” Zemo pointed towards the part of the city I’d been admiring, “Not a bad place if you want to visit, but Low Town’s the other way.” We approached a car waiting for us at the end of the bridge, ready to take us into the darkest part of the city. Bucky, who had remained silent since the plane, climbed into the backseat first while Zemo took the passenger’s side. “Let me guess,” Sam remarked as we moved to get in the car, “We don’t have any friends in High Town.”

“I’m guessing not,” I muttered, ducking into the back seat and sliding till I was pressed against Bucky. He didn’t make a sound, he barely even registered my presence. I was about to ask him if he was alright when I realized what he was doing. We all had our roles to play and Bucky was doing just that.

Sam climbed in next to me and we took off, me sandwiched between the two men trying to convince myself that I could do this. I could pretend to be someone I wasn’t to get answers, but my nerves was convincing me I was going to mess it up for us. No margin for error, Zemo’s words bounced around in my brain. He’d said our lives depended on it. They depended on whether or not I could keep it together. Sam must have sensed my anxiety because I felt his palm slide against my clammy one and squeeze. I sent a shaky one back, taking what comfort I could that I didn’t have to do this alone.

We were escorted in by a motorcade till we got to the seedier part of the city, the bridge we parked under painted with graffiti. Sam helped me out of the car and Zemo took our group through the back way into the city. As we crossed the overhead bridge, looking down into the city, I began to feel like my life had suddenly become some fever dream. Even more so once we entered the city and I was surrounded by people from all walks of life. Smugglers were making deals, guards were stationed outside buildings with machine guns, forgers were trying to sell to people. It was like nothing I’d ever seen. Sam kept me on his arm the entire time, selling our characters while still retaining his protective nature. We followed Zemo into a crowded bar, weaving our way through. “Here we are,” he announced quietly, our fellow patrons took notice as soon as they caught sight of Bucky, “Gotov podchinit'sya, zimniy soldat?” (Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?)

I tried my best to keep my face neutral, though an unwelcome chill went down my spine as Zemo began his act. It was wrong. It wasn’t fair to Bucky or his recovery to make him do this.

We approached the bar and the bartender came over immediately, “Hello, gentlemen. Ma’am. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” “His plans changed,” Zemo explained, “We have business to do with Selby.”

The bartender looked over suspiciously at Sam, “The usual?” Sam nodded casually in response and the man walked away to begin prepping the drink. What took us by surprise was when he reached for a jar containing a dead snake rather than the bottle of alcohol. He proceeded to lay the reptile on a cutting board and slice its stomach open, I looked up to Sam who was doing his best to keep his composure. “Ah, Smiling Tiger,” Zemo jeered, “Your favorite.”

The bartender removed a piece of the snake’s guts and sunk it into a shot glass filled with vodka. I covered my mouth with my clutch to conceal my delight at the sight I was about to behold. Sam caught the action and addressed the bartender, “You know what? She’ll have one too.” “Oh, no, I don’t think so,” I quickly protested, waving it off as if it were a shot of tequila and not an animal intestine.

“No, girl, I insist,” Sam grinned phonily at me.

“They actually upset my stomach,” I giggled, glancing to the bartender, “Can’t hold my liquor to save my life, I’ll be up all night sick if it touches my lips. But you enjoy, sweetheart.” The bartender didn’t pay much attention to the exchange as he set the shot glass in front of Sam, who looked unconvincingly between the glass and Zemo. “I love these,” he stated, holding it up for us all to see.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo clinked his glass against Sam’s.

Sam made several, hopefully convincing, noises of excitement about his drink. After giving it one last look, he shot it straight down, holding a thumbs up to the bartender afterwards.

“How badly are you trying not to throw up right now?” I whispered after the man had left.

“I can’t even hear you right now,” Sam replied in a strained voice, focusing on keeping the drink where it needed to be. An intimidating bearded man made us all turn around, he looked to Zemo. “I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

Zemo, ever the cool and collected presence, turned to the man. “I have no business with the Power Broker. But if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured to Bucky, standing at his side.

“New haircut?” the man asked Bucky, who stayed silent.

“Or bring Selby for a chat,” Zemo finished.

The man left, leaving us with questions. “A power broker?” Bucky grumbled, “Really?” “Every kingdom needs its king,” Zemo replied, “Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” Sam inconspicuously asked. “Only be reputation the baron answered, “In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”

I spotted another man approaching us, this one walking with a purpose. Zemo looked to Bucky, the show was about to start. “Zimniy Soldat,” Bucky nodded once, “Attask.” (Winter Soldier, attack.) As soon as the stranger thumped Zemo’s shoulder, Bucky sprang to action, his metal hand grabbing and twisting the man’s arm. He pushed him to the center of the room where he proceeded to twist it further before dropping him to the ground. The groans coming from him were sickening as he lay helpless, clutching his most likely broken arm. As another patron came up to attack, Bucky moved fast to disarm him before power kicking him into a table several times. I clung to Sam’s arm even tighter as Zemo shoved someone forward for Bucky to punch, sending him sliding across the floor.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo slyly observed, from my side. It took everything in me not to send him flying across the room right then. He was enjoying this.

When Bucky lifted a man by his throat and slammed him down on the bar was when guns all over the bar were cocked. Sam grabbed onto Bucky’s metal arm, ready to pull him back to us and to reality. “Stay in character,” Zemo whispered, dead serious, “Or the whole bar turns on us.” Sam dropped his arm as Zemo leaned into Bucky, “Molodets, soldat.” (Well done, soldier.)

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said, watching the scene in awe. Bucky slowly let the man go, gasping and groaning for air once he was freed. Sam looked over warily, “You good?” When Bucky faced us, his eyes met mine before they met Sam’s. I wished I could have concealed my reaction better for his sake, but the second he had attacked was the first time since we’d met that I’d been properly scared of him. It made the incident on the plane look like nothing. My mind knew he was just acting, pretending to be someone he once was for the sake of furthering our mission. But my blood ran just as cold with fear as it would have if the Winter Soldier was standing in front of me. Bucky’s eyes now were watery, filled with pain that he’d worked hard with his therapist to get through, now being brought back to life. Had the bar not been watching and had I not needed to stick with Sam, I’d have been at his side trying to make sure he was alright. Instead, I could only watch as he sniffled, nodded to Sam and followed Zemo to wherever we were going next.

We were escorted upstairs through a series of hallways with a heavily armed guard following us. A white haired woman sat in the middle of the room we were led to, tapping her fingers against the couch she lounged on. “You should know, Baron, people don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Zemo smiled, “Not a demand. An offer.”

Sam and I took our places standing next to Selby, Bucky stood watch across from us, back in his act.

“A lot has changed since you were here last,” Selby spared a look at Bucky, “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo shrugged, “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

Selby pointed a blind finger towards Sam, “You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger,” she eyed Sam suggestively and gave him a purr before turning her attention to me, “And what a lovely little dish you’ve got with you.” Internally I was struggling to stay calm and had never felt more exposed with the thin materiel of the dress over my body. “What’s the offer?” Selby grinned at Zemo.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum,” Zemo replied, rising from his seat to circle Bucky, “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want,” Zemo rubbed Bucky’s chin, playing with it to provoke him but knowing he could get away with it. I felt sick to my stomach.

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember,” Selby approved, “I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but…things didn’t go as planned.”

I squeezed Sam’s arm, we were getting answers. The crazy, chaotic plan was actually working. “Is Nagal still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked.

“Oh, the bread crumbs you can have for free,” Selby’s flirtatious demeanor shifted as she stood to business-like, “But the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.”

A sudden vibration tickled my arm from Sam’s suit pocket, it was his cell phone. He pulled it out hesitantly and looked down at it, I glanced over to see that it was Sarah calling.

“Answer it,” Selby ordered, Bucky had moved behind her to give us protection if need be, “On speaker.” The armed bodyguards moved in closer, it was clear we had no say in the matter. Sam unlocked his phone and pressed the speaker button, “Hello?” “Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation,” Sarah’s voice filled the air, sending an all too brief wave of peace through me, “It’s been drivin’ me nuts.”

“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?” Sam replied stiffly. “Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.”

“What situation, Sarah?” Sam’s voice grew louder, “Say it.”

“The damn boat,” Sarah replied just as hard, “And watch your tone, okay? I let you slide at the bank.”

Sarah. The boat. Home. And here I was standing in a designer dress meeting with Indonesian crime bosses. Two unbelievable worlds were colliding on the call.

Sam scoffed and nervously chuckling, “Yeah, the bank. Laundered so much, yeah, they’ll come around.” “If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?”

“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see,” Sam paused menacingly, “When I have that banker killed.”

We almost had Selby convinced as I watched her pace around the room, we were so close to- “Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this!” Sarah yelled, “Sam, I’m sorry. Let me call you back, and make sure Y/n is with you too.” “Sam? Y/n?” Selby echoed the names, “Who are you? Kill them!”

A second after she had given the order, a bullet shot through the nearby window and struck her chest fatally. The four of us sprung to action, Sam landing punches on the guard stationed behind us while I used my energy to pull the machine gun from his grasp. Across from us, Bucky took care of the other guard. I handed the weapon to Sam and we took our positions in the back of the room, ready to retaliate against the hidden assassin. “They’re gonna pin this on us,” Sam panted, our backs against the wall.

“We have a real problem now,” Zemo said, unbelievably calm for someone in our situation, “So leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Bucky ripped the lock on the back door and the four of us filed down the staircase quick as we could. It dropped us back off in the middle of the city, we hurriedly made our way down the street where all heads were turning to us. “This is not good,” Zemo hurried. The words hung in the air for a grand total of five seconds before bullets started to rain down around us. Bucky, Sam and I tore down the street where in the chaos, Zemo took off in another direction.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled over the gunfire. “Oh, I don’t wanna hear it,” I exclaimed, struggling to keep up with them in my stilettos, “Screw it!”

I threw my hands out to my side and lifted off the ground, keeping low enough to dodge any shots but stay close to Sam and Bucky. Two motorcycles sped after us promising more bounty hunters, Zemo caught up with us and killed two lone gunmen hiding behind a dumpster. Two perfectly aimed bullets came out of nowhere and lodged themselves in the heads of the cyclists chasing us.

“You seem to have a guardian angel,” Zemo observed as the three of us looked around for our savior.

“Well, this is too perfect,” a woman’s voice said, she appeared seconds later drawing back her hood and pointing a gun toward us, “Drop it, Zemo.”

Bucky stepped forward disbelievingly, “Sharon?” Sharon Carter. I recognized her only from the pictures I’d seen of her on the news when the shitstorm that branded her an enemy of the state went down. As she strode forward, ready to strike down the man responsible, I couldn’t say with certainty if she was an ally or not. “You cost me everything,” she seethed.

“Sharon, wait,” Sam, ever the steady presence, held a hand out and carefully came towards her, “Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” “Well, that explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.”

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky asked.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” she answered, her face contorting, “I also took the wings for your ass,” she aimed her gun at Sam, “So that you could save his ass,” then at Bucky, “From his ass,” the gun landed on me after Zemo, “Your ass is new.” “I’ve had one hell of an initiation, trust me,” I replied, standing my ground between Bucky and Zemo.

Sharon turned back towards Sam, “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up so I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Don’t blow that smoke at me, I was on the run, too,” Sam recalled. “Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore,” Sharon shook her head sadly, “I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen, Sharon,” Bucky stepped forward, “We need your help. Please.” Sharon mirthlessly chuckled to herself, sighing afterwards as she made her decision. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

While Sam roughly shoved Zemo forward to keep him in his line of sight, Bucky pressed a gentle hand to the small of my back to act as a guide through the dark alleyways. “You okay?” he asked quietly, quickly looking over at me. With everything he’d gone through in the last twenty minutes, the fight in the bar, the unshed tears in his eyes, Zemo talking about him like he was property to be traded, I couldn’t understand why he was asking if I was alright. He was what I was concerned with right now. “I will be once I get out of these shoes,” I joked, trying to get him to smile if at all possible. A corner of his lips turned upwards in a blink-and-you’d-miss-it flash, mine doing the same right after in some sort of relief.

Sharon led us to her car parked down a different alley, Sam shoved Zemo in the front seat while him, Bucky and I squeezed in the backseat once again. The difference between Low Town and High Town was visceral, Madripoor may have been dangerous no matter where you went but High Town provided a little more safety. When we arrived at Sharon’s house, greeted by two burly guards, the feeling of protection increased. The first room we entered was filled with artwork, statues and other priceless works that told us exactly what Sharon had done to afford her lifestyle in High Town.

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well,” Sam commented as we walked through the room.

“Well, I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler,” Sharon shrugged, far too goodheartedly for a true criminal, “You know how much I can get for a real Monet?” Sam grinned at his friend, “Deactivate your hustle mood, you sell fake Monets.”

“No, she means real,” Zemo corrected, “This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” “I kinda thought that was implied,” I said, following Sharon and Zemo and beginning to relax in the shockingly calm environment, “No offense.” Sharon scoffed, “None taken, a girl’s gotta do what she can to survive. By the way, who are you?”

“Y/n Y/l/n,” I answered, “Sam’s sister.” “Hmm,” Sharon hummed, looking me over once before turning around to hurry Sam and Bucky along, “Come on, you guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour. You,” she pointed to me, “Second door on your left, I’ll bring something up for you.” At the promise of shedding the over exposing dress and blistering heels, I had never moved faster in my life.

————

I took the opportunity to catch my breath while I could, the night had been a little too exciting than any of us had wanted. Sitting on the edge of Sharon’s bed with my elbows balanced on my knees, I felt the adrenaline rush I’d been running on start to subside.

The door opened, bringing in Sharon and her garment of choice. “This looked like it would fit you,” she said, tossing me a black jumpsuit that looked ten times more comfortable than what I was in. She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out an outfit for herself, “I gotta change too, back to back?” “Works for me,” I replied, turning around and beginning to unzip the dress.

“So you said you’re Sam’s sister but your last name isn’t Wilson?” Sharon asked, I could hear the sound of her clothes hitting the floor.

“We grew up together,” I freed myself of the dress and kicked it to the corner of the room.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here though,” she said, “This is probably the shittiest family road trip you could go on so clearly there’s a reason.” I looked over to the wardrobe, a pair of black boots sitting on the floor next to it. I used my energy to levitate them and landed them at Sharon’s side. Her dry chuckle served as her reaction. “I kinda begged him to bring me,” I explained as I pulled the jumpsuit up my body, “He was going to send me back home before John Walker decided to not so subtly threaten me with the Sokovian Accords, figured I’d be safer here with them.” “Safer?” Sharon scoffed, “Did he say this before or after you were being shot at by bounty hunters?”

“Well, between getting shipped off to jail and going undercover with a superhero and a Super Soldier as protection, I’ll take my chances here.” I heard Sharon walk away, presumably finished dressing. I zipped up the suit and tightened the belt, turning around after to find her leaned up against her dresser with her hands in her pockets. “Look, I know we just met but let me do you a favor and shed some light on the subject of heroics. It’s all bullshit. The whole costume, nickname, swoop-in-and-save-the-day act is all hypocrisy. I get that you’re young, you’ve got,” she waved a hand at mine, “Whatever that is. Maybe you want to do some good, maybe you just want to feel like you’re a part of something. Maybe you didn’t think it through at all and just thought it would be cool to run with a superhero. But if you’re smart, you’ll get your ass on a plane to anywhere but here and stay clear of all this.”

There was so much going through my head that I wanted to throw back at her, proving her speech completely wrong. Then I remembered that this woman had sacrificed more than most had and the government had turned their backs on her. She’d stuck her neck out for Steve and Sam and had been punished for it. Plus, she was kind enough to give us refuge when she had every right now to. I wasn’t in a place to criticize her. If anything, she should have been a cautionary tale. “I’ve had these powers all my life and have never known what to do with them,” I responded, “I want to help people and this is the best way for me to do that. As easy as it would be for some people to walk away, this is personal and I can’t leave now.” Sharon stared back at me silently before pushing herself off the dresser and brushing past me. There were layers of her expression, if I could peel each one back I thought I might get to the sadness I suspected she felt regarding her current life status. She opened her wardrobe, pulled out a pair of combat boots and handed them to me. “Then take a step back and ask yourself how far you’re willing to go. And if the three of you live long enough to get there, is it going to be worth the hell that’ll come afterwards?” She gave me a half smile before leaving the room, her heavy words hanging in the air. Steve had been my friend, Sam was my brother and Bucky was quickly climbing the ranks of people I cared about. I was going to see this through to the end with them, but what was the end? Was it retrieving the rest of the serum and stopping the Flag Smashers? Was it only two of us returning? One? None? Questions I didn’t have the answers to swirled in my mind as I stared at the door, wondering what awaited us for the rest of the night.

----

A/N: Next chapter is going to be...let’s just say there’s gonna be a lot of developments. A lot. Hope you guys are enjoying it, let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged.

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlypotterwhodiaries @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @zozebo @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x platonic!reader #marvel imagine

293 notes · View notes

ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 3 years ago

Note

Can you please do a sequel to the Thomas piece you posted?? I would love to see more of their “rekindled” (idk if that’s the right word) relationship evolve. Thanks so much!!

So, uh...I know what the doctor ordered and all, but I kinda made it real angsty cause I have no idea how to write anything other than angst so...yeah...🤡

Sorry if this was all over the place🤦🏻‍♀️

~~~~~~~~~~

Looking back on the past several months, you wondered if there was anything you could've done differently.

Maybe, if you just kept to yourself, none of this would be happening.

You and Thomas tried your best to get everyone out of the Maze, you really did. You knew there would be casualties, but you never thought it would be Chuck...or Newt.

After your memories returned, you and Thomas did everything in your power to try and convince the Gladers that you weren't the bad guys. Of course, Gally didn't take too kindly to that news; and when Teresa came up in the Box, all hell broke loose.

You had no idea how you managed to get out of that situation, but thankfully you had more than just Thomas and Teresa on your side. You escaped the Maze. You escaped W.C.K.D. You saved Minho and countless other kids that were taken. Now...you were safe, as crazy as it sounds.

A part of you wished you never got your memories back. You wished you could've just stayed in the Glade with Chuck, Newt, Alby, Ben, or even Teresa. It was hard to not blame yourself, because you were to blame. Maybe none of this would've happened if you just stayed away from Thomas.

Sure, you harbored a bit of resentment. Not just at him though, the whole situation was fucked up, and you knew that, it wasn't fair to blame it all on one person.

Seeing so many of your friends die, in part, because of you, put a strain on your relationship with Thomas. It sucked, because you all were on the run for so long that you didn't even get a chance to spend quality time with him. All you had was your memories to keep you company, which is more than anyone else could say. Which, you guessed, made you lucky.

All these memories coming back to you in an instant, remembering how Thomas was then compared to who he is now, it took some getting used to. Before the Maze, you had a very specific idea of who Thomas was, who he was to you. He was your best friend. He was your partner. He was your soulmate. So why did you start to see things so differently?

It was subtle, at first, just little things you disagreed on from time to time. Like, how you both handled conflict. Then, when Gally became a problem, you had very different ideas on how to handle him. Ultimately, that problem came to a head quickly and you had no choice but to go along with Thomas' plan.

But after escaping the Maze, you two practically disagreed with everything. Granted, looking back, you wished you had agreed on certain things. You were ashamed of yourself for how you treated the Winston situation. When he got infected, you already came to the conclusion that he was just dead weight. Obviously, Thomas had an issue with that. You were never that close to the kid, neither was Thomas, but he was still dead set on dragging him across the desert. It was only when Winston tried to kill himself is when Thomas finally broke.

You apologized to Thomas that night, but he surprised you when he said he understood where you were coming from. He knew Winston would've make it, but he was too stubborn and scared to admit it to himself. That moment was the first time you kissed him since you had gotten your memories back, and Thomas kissed you back.

You always made a strong effort to see things Thomas' way, even if he didn't notice it. But your opinions were so strong sometimes, that you'd completely ignore the pit in your gut that told you that he'd never agree, even if you made a compelling argument. It was frustrating. You knew that some of your ideas were a bit lackluster, you came from a more inconspicuous, strategic approach when it came to plans, whereas Thomas was more guns blazing. But when it came to Minho's rescue mission, both of your views came in handy.

Even now, you wondered if you had went along with Thomas' plan of attack, would Teresa still be alive? Would Newt? Obviously, you had no way of knowing. But just the thought that maybe you might've been at fault made you shut down sometimes.

You had yet another argument with Thomas, and you just couldn't handle being around him anymore. It wasn't the smartest of plans, but you snuck out of camp and wandered into the forest away from the beach. Even in the heat of your rage, you were almost positive you could find your way back again, so you didn't worry. All you tried to focus on was steadying your heartbeat, but all you could do was take an unpleasant trip down memory lane.

It probably should've worried you that it was getting dark really quick. If you were still at camp, you could probably still see the sun going down. But the forest pretty much blocked out all light, even the moon just barely peaking through the trees. But you stayed, suspended a couple feet in the air, sitting on a sturdy tree branch.

Your wrist started to itch, the annoying stinging sensation forcing you out of your state of tranquility and back into the real world. You had to physically stop yourself from huffing, rolling your eyes when you realized that he was close by.

Ever since that day in the Maze, you could always sense Thomas' presence, the ink in your skin giving off a slight burning feeling whenever he was close by. It would start off dull, barely noticeable. The feeling would intensify the closer Thomas would be in proximity until it completely stopped.

"Y/n?"

"Go away." You quickly replied harshly, not even turning around to look at him.

"You need to come back to camp, it isn't safe out here."

"Oh, like it's any safer across the ocean." You sighed.

This was the hundredth disagreement, Thomas wanted to go back to the mainland. His hero complex finding it difficult to just stay in the Safe Haven while there may be other people in need of help. Teresa seemed to finally break him from beyond the grave. He wants to find a way to replicate the cure that she gave to him before she sacrificed herself.

You thought it was stupid. You kept thinking about everyone that has been hurt, everyone that was murdered, all their friends that were experimented on by W.C.K.D. in their hopes of finding a cure. Thomas held the cure in his hand, but it's always never enough. It's like he has to put himself in danger to find a purpose in life. You were almost sure that they was no purpose, just survive.

In the Glade, you had more hope, surprisingly. Without your memories, you woke up with a tiny bit of hope, hope that the world outside the Maze would be better. But then it wasn't. You remembered how shitty the world really was, it even made you miss the Glade. It was a cage, that's for certain, but it almost seemed like you were safer there.

Sure, you were safe now. But your experiences in the Maze combined with all your memories that you had to deal with, you changed, you and Thomas both. Sometimes, it didn't really feel like you were the same people before you lost your memories. Maybe that's why you two were at odds constantly, maybe you two weren't actually soulmates. Who knows what put those tattoos on your skin, it could've been W.C.K.D. for all you knew. It was a very disheartening thought.

"Come on, Y/n. This again, seriously?" Thomas scoffed. "I thought you of all people would understand why I need to do this. If we can replicate the cure, who knows what that could mean for us? For the whole world?"

You sighed, jumping down from the tree branch and standing to face him. "Thomas, I never said we shouldn't try to make more cures. I just think it's idiotic to try and go back to that hellscape."

"It's not that I want to, we don't have the proper tools here that can make it easier to remake the serum."

"Last time we were there, all those buildings were being blown up. Most likely, it's all rubble and ash by now. There wouldn't be anything left to salvage."

"But not impossible."

"Thomas..."

"It's not impossible. Those specific buildings might be gone now, but you know how many more W.C.K.D. facility's there are. We have those coordinates."

"Those buildings are probably overrun by Cranks."

"But there still might be equipment left, and that's enough for me. We owe it to Teresa to try."

You rolled your eyes. "We don't owe her anything, Thomas. She betrayed us all, remember?"

"She saved my life. Our life. Surely, you remember that." You didn't reply. "She was like a sister to you, Y/n. Those feelings aren't just something that goes away overnight."

"It's easier when you remember she always had an agenda to begin with." You snapped, but quickly felt guilty when you saw the tears in Thomas' eyes. Your gaze softened. "Replicating the cure isn't gonna bring her back...we have to move on."

"I know...I know it won't bring her back..." Thomas whispered, slowly sitting down on this forest floor.

You sighed, kneeling down beside him. "I admire that you...want to save the world. But you shouldn't go on a suicide mission because of one person who's not even alive anymore." You said as softly as possible, the chirps of insects around you almost drowning you out.

"You think this is just about Teresa?" Thomas quickly asked, furrowing his brows.

You shrugged. "I know how hard you took her death. And yeah, it's been hard for me too. I was just so angry at her that I didn't allow myself to mourn. But I honestly think that Teresa wouldn't want you to kill yourself over this cure just for her."

Thomas let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "It was never just about her. I...I couldn't save Newt. He wasn't immune, and I am. And I could've saved him if I had just listened to Teresa. So many people on this island aren't immune. Including you...if there's even the slightest chance I could make more cures in order for you to be safe...it's more than enough for me. I can't lose you too."

"Thomas..."

"I can't lose you."

You shook your head, quickly grabbing onto Thomas' hands. "Hey," You said softly, "you're not going to lose me."

"How do you know?"

"Thomas, no one here has the virus. And we're so far away from the mainland...don't you think it would be affecting people already if it could reach us here?"

Thomas stayed silent, casting his gaze to the forest floor dejectedly.

You sat closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder, but still keeping your hands on his. "Thomas, I think the worst is over now. We don't have W.C.K.D. hanging over our heads, and we're not running for our lives anymore...we shouldn't have to worry about this kind of stuff anymore."

"Sometimes it's hard to believe that we don't have to run for our lives anymore..." Thomas whispered softly.

You frowned, leaning more into Thomas. "I know...I've been feeling the same way."

Thomas brought up your wrist, kissing his tattooed name gently. "I'm sorry. I hate arguing with you."

You smiled weakly. "It's okay. I'm sorry too."

"I remember you telling me that my stubbornness will get me killed someday." He chuckled, then sighed. "You weren't wrong. I know I'm stubborn."

"Hey, it's not just you. I know I'm stubborn too."

"We make such a good pair, don't we?" He joked.

The thought about the origins of your tattoos came back into your mind, causing you to frown slightly. "Do you ever think about our tattoos?" You asked hesitantly. "Like, about how they got there in the first place?"

Thomas inhaled deeply. "Yeah. I have."

"Do you think W.C.K.D. is the one who put these here?" You asked, rubbing your thumb over Thomas' tattoo.

"I don't know...maybe. But even if they did, it doesn't matter to me. I love you, and that'll never change."

You looked up at Thomas, seeing that he was already looking at you with a small smile. You felt your face heat up when he moved a strand of your hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. "Thomas...?"

"Hmm?"

You leaned in and placing your lips against his gently. "I love you too."

~~~~~~~~~~

yes, i'm aware this was a bit of a mess lmao. hope you enjoyed regardless

#the maze runner #the maze runner imagine #tmr thomas #thomas x reader

39 notes · View notes

headoverheelsforramsey · 3 years ago

Note

Hello, hello! This week, we are going on a little:

Home Tour!

Notes: Answer the following with pictures (dialogue from your characters is optional!). Collages are highly encouraged if you want to answer a question with multiple pictures because tumblr mobile only allows 10 total pics. Otherwise, tumblr on a desktop lets you add multiple pictures (non-beta)!

For both:

What does the outside of the home look like? (Front/back yard, garden, pool, etc)

Living room and home office (if any)?

Kitchen and dining room?

Bedrooms? (Master, guest, others)

Other rooms?

Do you own your dream home? If not, what does that dream home look like?

What is your favorite room to spend time in with each other?

Super super late to this, because of my stupid exam but now we are here so let's go! 💃🏽🏠

A/N : I am placing this two years and seven months after the wedding, because I HC Ethan and Meera staying at Ethan's apartment for two years after the wedding and they only start house hunting when they have the baby talk and start trying for a baby. So technically not newlyweds anymore. Now let's get started! ✨

Meera opens the door and greets Bree.

Meera : Hii Bree, welcome to our humble abode.

Bree (chuckles) : This place is anything but humble. I hope I am not causing much trouble.

Meera : Absolutely not. Who else is going to make me feel like a youtuber?

Both laugh, Ethan joins and greets Bree.

Bree : Congratulations on the good news Dr. Ramsey. How far are y'all?

Ethan : Thank you Bree. It's been 3 months already.

Meera (cradling her small bump) : Yup one trimester down two more to go.

Ethan (kissing her forehead) : And then there will be a mini version of you running around these halls.

Meera : Nope it's gonna be a mini you.

The couple shares a look as if challenging each other.

Meera : Fine, Bree, whose team are you on? Do you think it'll be a boy or a girl?

Bree : I am happy with either because at the end I'll be interviewing him or her too.

The three of them share a laugh.

Bree : Let's get started, shall we?

Ethan : Sure.

What does the outside of the home look like? (Front/back yard, garden, pool, etc)

Front :

Meera : We were looking for something modern yet chic, something that is totally us. I fell in love with the design whereas Ethan was in total awe of the open space and glass doors. Needless to say our heart was stuck on this no matter how many more houses we visited.

Backyard :

Ethan : The backyard also doubles up as the garden but it's not quite completed yet.

Meera : Yes it's been two months since we moved, and we haven't been able to work on the garden because of work and the pregnancy. Ethan : But we want to build a garden with a tree house and maybe some swings.

Meera (too excited) : Ohh swings! Yes please add it onto the list. Why didn't I think of it before?

Pool :

Meera : Definitely my favorite part!

Ethan : She is a water baby through and through so that's no surprise.

Meera : Don't act like you don't appreciate me in a swimsuit, Ramsey (winks)

Ethan : There is no denying that.

Living room and home office (if any)?

Living room :

Ethan : Meera was hell bent on having an L-shaped couch.

Meera : Those things are so bougie I had to have one because now I can finally afford one. But yeah the living room is so relaxing with a beautiful view of the outside.

Home office :

Meera : Honestly speaking, I do not understand the utility of a home office, I didn't understand back at his apartment neither do I understand now. If I am supposed to work from home I can do that on the couch or on my bed or even better on the daybeds by the pool.

Ethan (shaking his head) : You'll get it darling. When you start your maternity leave I'll see how you make zoom calls with the pool as your background.

Meera shrugs.

Kitchen and dining room?

Meera : This part was all Ethan so I'll let him do the talking.

Ethan (proudly) : A Poggenpohl kitchen with a granite-topped island adds an ultramodern touch. Glass shelves display colorful glassware convenient to the wet bar. A translucent sliding glass door below the shelves hides the more utilitarian gadgets. And finally playful mod pendant lights seem to levitate over the dining table, which is meant to resemble a river running through the woods.

Meera : You sure you didn't miss your true calling as an interior designer babe?

Ethan (smirks) : Nope, just the fact that I tend to excel at everything I do, Rookie.

Meera : And that makes you 10 times hotter!

Bedrooms? (Master, guest, others)

Master bedroom :

Meera : The bedroom has a different color scheme and tone from the rest of the house because I wanted it to stand out and break the monotone.

Ethan : Again the chandelier was Meera's opinion.

Meera : Finding common ground between his minimalistic taste and mine was difficult but we made it through.

Master Bathroom :

Ethan : Meera I don't think it was necessary to bring Bree in here.

Meera : It was absolutely necessary! Just look at this tub Bree! The bubbles and champagne dates we have here are a total hit.

Guest rooms :

Ethan : We have two guest rooms and both are styled the same way, but unfortunately we haven't had any guests yet.

Meera : Is it unfortunate Dr. Ramsey? Bryce is just a call away from crashing here.

Ethan (pinching the bridge of his nose) : Anyone but Lahela.

Meera : We haven't thought about the baby's room yet. But we have the nursery now.

Ethan : Yes, maybe we'll turn the nursery into a bedroom or one of the guest rooms in a few years. Let's see.

Nursery :

Meera : This was completed just yesterday hence the delay in the interview, Bree.

Ethan : We decided to keep the gender of the baby a surprise so we went with a gender neutral nursery that matches the colour scheme of the house.

Meera : Also because Ethan Ramsey would rather die than paint the walls of his house pink and blue.

Ethan (rolls eyes)

Other rooms?

Home library :

Meera (takes in the smell of books) : Better known as my safe haven.

Ethan : This was absolutely non-negotiable for Meera.

Meera : We both own a lot of books and the collection keeps on increasing now with the baby incoming. And look at this reading space. It's from my dreams.

Ethan : This is tucked away in a far corner of the house and is the most serene place around here. Once, I returned home from the hospital and called out to Meera a hundred times, she didn't answer, I started panicking and then found her silently sitting here in her own world.

Meera : If I ever go missing please check here before running to the police, because once I am in here I forget the existence of the world.

Bree picks up "Peppa pig's super noisy Sound Book" which was kept on a thick medical journal with a smile.

Ethan feels embarrassed but Meera laughs.

Meera : Yes these are the new ones in our collection. Ethan was reading it to the baby before you arrived.

Home Bar :

Ethan : The wine cellar grew into a home mini bar because we had this unused space left.

Meera : He loves showing this and his collection off.

Ethan : Excuse me! If I remember correctly your friends were very impressed as well.

Meera : True that. Bryce went bat shit crazy during the housewarming party. He said he felt he got back his bartending days.

Ethan (proudly) : And Jackie's exact words for that evening's toast was "to hell with Donahue's"

Meera : Yeah yeah, you did a great job honey. Also the more surfaces the better for us.

Ethan : Keep it PG for the love of God.

Meera (shrugs) : Pregnancy hormones.

Bree (points) : And that?

Ethan (facepalms) : The only thing that doesn't match with the vibe here.

Meera : Nonsense! It was a housewarming gift from my friends and I absolutely love it. Ethan just feels it is a cheaper and juvenile version of his favourite game, soccer. But don't worry Bree, I'll get him to play someday.

Ethan (smirk) : I would very much like to see you try Dr. Ramsey-Bose.

Meera : And I'll see how you say no when your son asks.

Ethan : It's gonna be a daughter.

Meera : We'll see.

Do you own your dream home? If not, what does that dream home look like?

Ethan : For the majority of my life home for me was a structure of bricks and cement with a ceiling but Meera was the one who brought all the love and light and showed me what a real home felt like. So for me, my home is where my heart is and for this lifetime it's kept safe with this gorgeous woman whom I fortunately call my wife.

Silence lasts for a couple of minutes then Meera snorts.

Meera (drying her eye) : Damn you pregnancy hormones, I am not even wearing waterproof mascara. It was super cheesy Ethan, a non pregnant me would have definitely called you out on your cheese but this pregnant Meera has to agree with you. Even a stable is my dream home if I have my dream husband with me. (she kisses Ethan) but I wouldn't mind a Jacuzzi, a home theatre, a game room (laughing)

Ethan (an easy smile on his face) : Always knew you were in it because of the money Bose.

What is your favorite room to spend time in with each other?

Meera : The library. Just him reading to our unborn child like he isn't already the most perfect man in the world.

Ethan (a very satisfied smile on his face) : First I am very surprised that you kept it PG. So the obvious answer is the bedroom but other than that, the patio, which is not a room though.

Ethan : Meera has a slight deficiency in vitamin D so to avoid complications, we spend a lot of time here in the sun. We play board games, read and even discuss work here sometimes.

Meera : Ooh yes! This was another great investment and a great way to utilise the humongous outdoor space we have.

Ethan : I hope you had fun Bree. Thank you so much for doing this.

A quick shoutout to @a-crepusculo and @jamespotterthefirst who came to my rescue when I couldn't add more than 10 pics. Also thank you Bree for doing this you are a star and an angel. 💜

Tagging my usual : @starrystarrytrouble @mm2305 @charisworld @choicesfanaf @potionsprefect @genevievemd @shanzay44 @little-flowers-on-heaven @schnitzelbutterfingers @coffeeheartaddict @gryffindordaughterofathena @chemist-ana @adiehardfan @custaroonie @ireneadlerisseggsy @takemyopenheart @natureblooms24 @mainstreetreader @izzyourresidentlawyer @a-crepusculo @quixoticdreamer16 @starryeyedrookie @barbean

+ @openheartfanfics

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed. And if you want to sit out only the answers to the ask games hit me up too. There won't be any hard feelings. I promise. 💜

#asked and answered #newlywed game with our host Bree #queen Bree supremacy!#jamespotterthefirst #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #ethan x meera #dr. meera bose #cue the queue

33 notes · View notes

heavenunderthemoon · 4 years ago

Text

Line Without A Hook- Jennifer Jareau x Reader

summary: You were brought onto the team as a tech analyst to help with the new workload and find a certain blonde has taken an interest in you.

warnings: none just some angst and then some fluff

I would recommend listening to Line without a hook by Ricky Montgomery while reading bc that’s what I listened to while writing (hence the title), always, enjoy! Also go check out my other works here

"Hey, hot stuff."

Your fingers tightened around the black, government issued telephone you had been holding up to your ear, eyes flickering to Penelope who was finishing up typing in a code to help filter your search results for the unsub.

Jennifer Jareau's arrogantly smooth (in your own, professional opinion, of course) filtered through the phone with ease and successfully made your cheeks tint pink.

"Jennifer." You said curtly, and Penelope spun around in her chair, her face twinged with amusement already.

Ever since you had started working at the bureau a month ago, the team had noticed a...flirtation between you and the blonde former media liaison. You remembered your first day, how her hand had gripped yours tightly and the way her lips had quirked up when you pulled yours back just a bit too fast.

The team had watched for a whole month as the blonde had found fun in her flirtatious poking, the first time she had expressed interest in anyone since her divorce. And you hadn't had any complaints- well, any real complaints. Sure, you answered her stiffly, choosing to only call her Jennifer (because, according to her, only friends called her 'JJ' and you would vehemently attest that you were not friends), but, if you had actually been bothered by the constant poking you would've voiced it. So, she continued.

"Now, that's no way to greet your favorite co-worker." The blonde teased and you could swear you could hear the smirk in that overly-confident, pompous, velvety voice of hers.

You rolled your eyes as Penelope hit the button to put it on speaker, eyes glued to your face as if to gauge your reaction. But, over the last thirty days you had become excellent at putting on a poker face. With a dry tone, you responded.

"You're right, I'd never greet Emily that way." You cracked wittily, and a small chuckle ghosted from her lips.

They had only been gone for six hours and you knew she probably hadn't changed. She was probably still wearing that wonderful little blazer that fit her slender, toned arms so well. The one that made your eyes follow her as she moved throughout the room, that annoying, adorable little smirk on her lips because she knew it too.

"Ah, how you wound me, Y/N/N." The name grated against your ears and your lips twitched in annoyance.

You hated that nickname. You had never had a nickname before, which, you supposed should be surprising because you were well above the age that nicknames were typically given but no one had ever bothered to give you one and now that someone had (and that someone was Jennifer), you couldn't help but have your annoyance spike at the usage of it.

"Have I ever told you how much I hate when you call me that?" You asked sarcastically.

"Every time I use it." Jennifer responded cheekily, and you rolled your eyes, scooting in to your desk while Penelope giggled.

And just like that she was asking you for an address and you were dutifully searching for it. This case was similar to most you had worked on so far, though the likeness to the others did little to numb the severity of the situations these people found themselves in. You didn't know how they had all been doing it for so long. Looking at this team from the outside in had made it seem like a safe haven, a group of untouchables, of the elite. But now that you were one of them you could see that it was the opposite. That, eventually, this job chipped away at them, piece by piece. You wondered how long it would be until the first part of you left too.

The address pinged onto the corner of your screen and you were speaking into the phone once more, giving it to Jareau woman as she showered you in thanks. Perhaps it was the heat of the moment, or perhaps it was the case itself, the way the women all had blonde hair- it wasn't like Jennifer's hair, no, Jennifer's blonde was golden, like the sun itself had ventured down to earth to lay a kiss atop her head, bleeding some of its golden rays onto her long locks. Whatever the reason may be, you wouldn't particularly know because you were speaking far before you could think twice.

"Wait, Jennifer?" There was shuffling on the other end, the agent most probably gearing up as she walked to the squad cars, preparing to catch the man that had started the whole chase.

The blonde noticed the change in tone immediately. Of course she did, because you had developed a certain tone whenever you spoke with her. An exasperated, breathy, really adorably annoyed sort of tone that she knew was just for show because that cute little smile that you had, the smile that tilted down at the corners because you were trying so very hard to suppress it, always tugged at your lips. That tone was gone, stripped bare and all that remained was you.

"Yeah?" And now you noticed the change in tone, because the tone she normally used with you was irritatingly confident and poised and so frustratingly perfect that it made you automatically go in defense mode because, let's be honest, you were very far from it.

"Be safe." You said, and it seemed more like a plea than a statement and the back of your neck felt extremely hot when you recalled Penelope's presence behind you, the very excitable woman practically shaking at the small interaction and you hung up the phone before Jennifer could even respond.

"Not a word." You warned the Garcia woman, keeping your eyes glued to the screen before you. There was nothing to be done, at least, nothing pressing. You had given the address to the team. Now, what was left was the waiting. The waiting to confirm you had the right guy, waiting to make sure your team turned out okay (the standards for okay, you had learned, was that everyone was in one piece or not in jail by the end of the case), and that the paperwork was filled out.

Penelope Garcia, being that she was Penelope Garcia, did not follow your request. Her earrings jangled as she rolled her way to you, your shoulders touching as she occupied the space next to your desk. She hadn't been too thrilled at the idea of a new occupant in her bat cave. In fact, she had detested it, all but striking where Emily had brought up the idea. But, the Prentiss woman had been quite adamant about the new addition, claiming that the technical analyst needed help with the new workload as they began to take on more cases, not to mention your resume had been nothing short of sparkling.

Grumbling, Penelope had met you, her eyes landing on the woman staring at the rows of action figurines on display on the righthand corner of the room. She had watched the way you peered at them, the recognition flashing in your eyes and successfully called you out on being a nerd (a secret nerd, as she called you, because you didn't broadcast your 'dorky' interests quite like Penelope liked to.) And that had been that, the Garcia woman clearing out a space for your desk and promising not to tell anyone about your weird niche interests that she had all but pried out of you.

"'Be safe', I think I'm swooning." The Garcia woman fanned her face teasingly and you huffed, refusing to meet her eyes.

"What part of 'not a word' needed to be translated into Penelopian-"

"Peneloponese is actually my official language, but continue."

And this time you did turn to face her with a cross look, arms folded. "Very funny, we'll have to get you on Seinfeld." You said flatly.

The blonde let out a laugh, as she so often did around you. As adamantly against she had been on your presence in her bat cave, she was grateful you had come into her life. Previously, she had relied on figurines and plush animals to bring her happiness when the darkness threatened to breach her area of sanctitude but now she had you, her secretly dorky, outwardly cool coworker who very obviously had a crush on one of her oldest friends.

"I tease out of love, Y/N. Speaking of love,"

You turned back to your computer, cutting th Newman off swiftly. "No."

Penelope let out a whine. "No? You don't even know what I was gong to say." She argued, though she knew you did.

And you did. You knew that she was going to ask what the latest gossip was on you and Jennifer was because that's what she always asked and, yes, while you typically playfully denied anything going on you didn't quite this you could do that this time because this time you were far too trapped into your own brain to dig yourself out long enough to lie. You were stuck, deep, deep in there, think about all the ways in which you thought Jennifer Jareau was an actual angel sent from Heaven above, starting from the golden color of her hair and ending with the way she twirled her pens out of boredom. And you hated that you noticed all those things, mostly because it meant you spent more time than you cared to admit sneaking Ito the bullpen, making excuse after excuse just to stand there and observe the funny way she did things (she ate Cheetos for almost every meal and it baffled you how she was still standing).

But you also hated it because it meant that you liked her and you could not like Jennifer Jareau. You couldn't like her because there was no way in hell that you were dumb enough to set yourself up for failure like that, you weren't that sadistic.

You would never be able to handle the crushing weight of rejection that would inevitably come from unrequitedly liking Jennifer Jareau and, of course, it would be unrequited because how could she like you? How could she like you, someone who simply refused to read a book unless it was a physical copy (you didn't understand the appeal to e-readers because you couldn't smell the old pages as you flipped them or run your fingers along the spine as you read it. Someone who had learned seven languages, one of which was Klingon just because you wanted to see if you actually could (it hadn't been too hard but now you had to live with the fact that you actually knew Klingon). Someone who hated polka-dots. Someone who had a fear of walking over sewer grates because you thought you might just be the one person unlucky enough to fall in. How could Jennifer Jareau, the woman who always walked in to work, never a wrinkle in sight or a hair out of place, possibly like you?

Surely, the flirty nature of your conversations was just something to tease you with, something she found satisfaction in and you hated it because as much as you wished it was true, those sultry looks and kind smiles, the shoulder squeezes and over the shoulder smirks, the walks to the car and greetings in the morning, it wasn't. It wasn't true and it never would be because she was Jennifer Jareau, a newly divorced mother of two.

"Drop it, Pen." And before she opened her mouth once more your tone was softening, shoulders deflating from the tense posture you held before, slumping in vulnerability. "Please."

Penelope's lips pursed shut, the two of you sitting in that silence you had created for what seemed like eternity. The hum of the machines, something that had typically served as a sense of comfort to you, seeming to mock you, a symphony of interruptions that added to the very loud, very panicked screaming currently happening in your brain.

It was the kind of silence that you asked for but once you received but, you regretted it. The silence that enveloped you in its entirety, consuming you whole and dropping you right into the belly of the beast. You started to drown in that silence because, for you, it wasn't silence at all, it was just a big, large, bottomless abyss that served as a chasm for your thoughts to fill and boy did you have a lot of them, none of them entirely pleasant and almost all of them torturous. You felt yourself teetering onto the edge of that metaphoric chasm, tiptoeing the ledge of hate and love for Jennifer Jareau.

But, Penelope Garcia was nothing if not a savior, and her hand latched onto your still one with gentleness.

"She likes you too."

And just like that the chasm was emptying, mind going blank, going absolutely numb because your ears were ringing at even the slightest notion that Jennifer Jareau liked you. Your face must've displayed that because Penelope was continuing.

"She does, I swear, she told me. Well, she told Emily but it was Girls' Night Out and I went to get more drinks and she told Emily but you know that JJ can't hold her liquor all too well and I don't think either of them know that I know and I can't tell them that I know because then they'll know I was eavesdropping- which I wasn't! My eyesight is just really bad so I think my hearing is just hyper-sensitive-"

Your mind raced attempting to keep up with the blonde. "Wait, hold on." You throat felt dry, full of cotton and closing up by the second so you forced yourself to breathe. "She...likes me? Not as a friend but actually likes me?" And you hated how juvenile it all sounded, cringed at the concept that you had to ask your friend if the girl you liked, liked you back, but you had to.

Penelope took a breath of her own, that brilliant smile she always adorned coming back into play. A nod toddled out of her head and she squeezed your hand. "Yes! She never told me, though I think that's because everyone thinks I can't keep a secret. But she always talks about you, never shuts up actually, and the look on her face-"

"She likes me." And as cool as you always tried to look, as mature as you always claimed to be, that childish little smile that overtook your features demolished all of those walls in an instant. Your heart beat quickened and you could've sworn they were singing, singing her name, cheering it, really.

Jennifer. Jennifer. Jennifer.

"She does." The Garcia woman confirmed.

The phone ringing cut off your inner symphony, your hand flying to the phone as you answered it.

"Hello?" You were breathless and you couldn't quite help it.

"First ring. Nothing better to do than answer my calls, huh, Y/N?" And Jennifer was back on the line, the sound of sirens haunting her background. It had been almost an hour since your last call and you could safely assume she had gotten out of the situation alive, the unsub apprehended and the team beginning their victory laps.

"Don't flatter yourself, Jareau, I thought it was someone else." And because your mind had emptied, because your thoughts had gone blank, your quips weren't;t as lethal as they always were, your guard lowered.

JJ snorted. "Oh yeah, like who?"

You spun your chair around, blurting out the first name that came to mind. "Penelope." And instantly your hand was slapping your forehead.

"Penelope? Is she not right next to you?" A breathy little laugh escaped her lips and you stared at the blonde tech analyst, eyes widened and hands gesticulating wildly to which she merely shrugged.

"Uh, yeah, she is...it's a, uh, game...we play." Your excuse was weak and asinine but it was the only one you could think of and if you could astrally project out of your body to smack yourself you would but you couldn't. "Anyways, did you catch the guy?" You asked, quickly changing the subject.

If JJ noticed the awkwardness, she didn't mention it. "Yup, so you won't have to wait too long to see this face if that's what you were wondering." That confidence, the confidence that you know understood was her way of flirting and also would probably be your cause of death.

And with that new understanding, your mind simply stopped working. "Good." And at the realization of what you had just said you attempted to recover. "I mean that's good that you'll be home soon, not good that I'll see your face- not that I don't want to see your face, it's a good face, symmetrical and all that-"

Penelope was waving her hands, signaling for you to stop and your hand was covering your own mouth to stop yourself.

JJ was silent for a moment, the sound of a car door closing before she was speaking once more. "Are you okay, Y/N? You're being...weird."

"Ask her out!" Penelope hissed and you smacked her shoulder.

"Was that Pen What did she say?"

"Nothing!" You shrieked, before clearing your throat, voice returning back to normal. "Nothing, just, uh,"

The Garcia woman was back to miming and you watched as she panto-mimed a date (very poorly, you might add, but it was enough to make you relax, shoulders regaining some movement).

"Do you want to go out for dinner sometime?"

The silence you had so loathed had returned with a sickening fervor and your stomach flipped at it. "With me...in case that wasn't clear." Your hand scratched the back of your neck, hot with embarrassment toward the entirety of this exchange.

And just when you thought you might die from the embarrassment or Penelope might faint from the whole ordeal, Jennifer responded.

"Yes."

#jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds #penelope garcia

187 notes · View notes

fencesandfrogs · 4 years ago

Text

clan culture inspiration fic master post

a collection of fics/series/w/e i've used for inspiration. ordered by how much i used them

Flightless Dove, Poison Ivy acaciapines

read it, it’s good. it's 100% my main fic inspiration, i love it, it's very good.

the light that shines on you solacefruit

huge inspiration for my riverclan. just. massively where i get a lot of ideas. probably a larger source of material than flightless dove, if i'm being honest.

RIVERCLAN leaders have a litany of names. weather caller, storm seer, spirit walker. a new leader being made is a chance to find another for the list. these names are to honor leaders for the role they play in their lives.

(names. leaders. meaning.)

so you can see where i got that from.

Warriors Redux Deconstruction Dullard on ao3 (not linked)

i've split this into two parts, because there's a lot. i'm a fan of this in terms of world building, but i've been select in what i've used from it. deconstruction is linked highly because it had a lot of key details that shaped my opinions on what wouldn't be. a lot of this i would've changed anyway, but i wanted to list WR because it'd be dishonest to act like this wasn't shaping my thoughts.

anyway, a short list of things that were mentioned in WR:D that i'd already decided on or am now using

behaviors. i mean, i've said "flicked her tail" or "flattened his ears" so much it's getting old, but by god if i am not being true to cats movements. i think WR:D is somewhat conservative on use of purring, but i've also been writing about kits, and a lot of purring is involved with kits, so special case, i suppose. but i'm very cautious with my descriptions. i've tried really hard not to use smile, because cats don't smile. that's the one that gets me the most.

water. this is kind of a specific thing. but. in ctd's fading echoes. the lake is a concern not because the cats need water, but because the prey needs water.

queens and toms. now. i have always been irritated by this. and the lack of female leadership. because toms should know they're kept on the graces of the queens. the sisters got it right. but i can't just kick out half the cast, so i'm forced to keep them. i have, however, kept toms out of the nursery. queens are protective around their kits. it's the best i can do to appease my strong desire to literally just kick every male cat out of the clan. in all of my stories, though, i keep track of who's in the nursery with what kits, because those kits are going to bond to every damn mother. it's super annoying that this isn't kept more clear anywhere. i have to do so much math and check so many allegiances every time.

kits. it's basically impossible to convince me to write this the way the hunters do, so even in ctd, we see kits not walking, not opening their eyes, until real kittens would. does this make the early chapters of growing shadows a pain because dovekit does basically nothing but sit and listen? yes. do i care? yes, it is important to me that dovekit does nothing but sit and listen because she's a baby. bb. need protect.

genetics. usually i correct coat colors for POV cats. because it bothers me. see: tortie dovekit/ivykit in CTD, and the fact that i think in jaywing, jayfeather is going to end up amber like brightheart. i need to do some research to double check, but...i think that's what will happen. (please don't ask about hollykit, ivykit, and lionkit. i don't even know who their parents are. how is crowfeather "dark grey, almost black"? what does that mean. how is leafpool even leafpool. i don't understand anything.)

religion. i'm not fundamentally changing how starclan works, because i'm writing the books where magic is confirmed real, but...i've tried to distance the connections with it. and god, so help me, i'm going to make things a proper religion for w&f. there will be religious things like prayer. god.

cultures, folklore, names. this is getting long so i'm lumping this together. basically, i've got some name stuff sorted out. it's not "traditional" naming, because i'm not going WR on this and renaming really important cats (altho the reason WR has my respect for traditional naming is because they're not afraid to rename cats to fit the scheme), but i have some pretty defined rules. and there will be folklore and stories. this is especially important for dovefeather, when she goes to riverclan.

Sharing Tongues Icej

a series. i don't think i've used much of this directly, but it has shaped a lot of my opinions on clans. it's why thunderclan is militaristic and why windclan is so strict.

it's also shaped my thoughts on a lot of parts of clan life. i'm writing this all out of order, so i'll say, a lot of the inspiration that warriors redux had, is shared in this series. i'm not sure if there's overlap in the interst, but it's got simularities.

especially in terms of relationships. i have a bit of a fascination with story telling as a form of culture, if only because in my personal life, story telling, especially verbal story telling, has always been really important. so i think a lot about it.

anyway, these are a good set of fics, and they're ranked so highly because they're kind of a paradigm i've crafted my thoughts around.

Tell me about your Ancestors Drowsy_Salamander

so this was what got me started, even over flightless dove. it got me thinking about the differences clans would have.

i haven't written "funerals. mourning. prayer." yet, although as you might guess from the fact that i have a title, it is on my mind. i think i'll draw heavily on this for that.

one other very specific line in this that i draw on is

When SkyClan was reformed by Firestar at the gorge, it was reformed in ThunderClan’s image.

now i say that specifically because i didn't want that. i wanted leafstar to find her own tradition. a lot of skyclan's destiny deals with her struggling to adapt the warrior code to her clan. so Ancestors continues by talking about tree's influence, and this is what i got from it:

SKYCLAN once held ceremonies at tilt, when the birds were quiet, but now, they hold most ceremonies at low moon, when the spirits are strongest. ...

apprentices are made at low sun, born from a time when they were not always gathered.

(ceremonies)

and i'm happy with that

Warriors Redux: Ammendment Dullard on ao3, not linked

this is ranked significantly lower than deconstruction because (a) i'm borrowing superificial things at best and (b) i had already come to a lot of these conclusions. still, i'm writing a full list because there are little things i don't think to write whole essays about sometimes. that said, whereas in deconstruction, i could basically say "yes, everything that's said here, i agree with, i'm only tweaking things for personal taste or because of differences in perspective" here it's more like "here are the things i'm using" and the other stuff is just there, but not really anything i want to use

time and date. in one of my generic CTD posts i had a few paragraphs about this. basically, i like the system of time. except for half, because that confuses me. so it's dawn, sunrise, low sun, (sun) tilt, sunhigh, dusk, moonrise, low moon, (moon) tilt, moonhigh, repeat. and kits are aged to apprentices at the beginning or rough midpoint of seasons.

numbers. math. drawing things in the dirt with claws. in short, yes, no, what the...no. just no. cats in my stories can basically count, but they don't really, like, count the way we do? they might say five leaf bares ago, because i am not saying, "the leaf bare before the one with X which was before the one with Y" and that's what a cat is thinking and maybe they have words for this, i don't know, i'm not writing that. four and nine are holy numbers, or the closest cats get. (apprentices are apprenticed at nine moons in the holy sense, because a queen pregnent for a three --- two, but who's counting --- and in the nursery for six. this will never come up in a story unless it's a background note, because it's confusing and hard to explain off the cuff.) i don't have to explain my last point.

names. i have my own rules. i don't intend on changing character names with the exception of the symbolism in jaywing and dovefeather, but i may at some point make some comments on what, based on my rules, i would do. i don't want to change names because it confuses me, but i don't want to say for sure that i won't. definitely not based on WR rules, i have my own form of "traditional naming" for the w&f world.

clan specific notes. you can find it in my writing. there's a lot of influence in it. i don't want to list everything.

come back to you one by one solacefruit

i haven't really used this for anything, i just generally like it. it's definitely given me inspiration for how i use stories, but not any particular thing.

it really is beautiful, though.

alright, that's about it.

#warriors au #warriors worldbuilding #worldbuilding #warriors #warrior cats #jaywing #cloudtail's daughter #dovefeather #mine #txt #28th #February #2021 #February 28th 2021 #1st #March #March 1st 2021 #q

59 notes · View notes

darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years ago

Text

The Idiot ~ Fyodor Dostoevsky

In which the reader is the last Russian princess from our contemporary times and Fyodor is there to watch, observe, analyse and write a novel while being the reader’s sort of guardian/mentor, all while reader finds herself in an impossible, almost-Anna Karenina-like situation that drives her to desperate decisions.

And yes, I’m very much basing this story Dostoevsky’s “The Idiot” novel, Tolstyi’s “Anna Karenina” and Katyusha, both the Russian song, and the “Resurrection” novel from Tolstoy that has Katyusha as an unfortunate, yet important character.

Also, a little nod to our dear Ana Lesko for her song “Anicyka Maya”, which will serve as a cute little nickname for our dear reader, although the song is Romanian, and it’s about a seductive woman.

Other nicknames will include: Kiska ( kitten ), Zaika ( bunny ), Kroshka ( little one ), Krasotka ( gorgeous ).

I’m not Russian, I don’t know about Russia’s culture, history and language as much as I know about my own, obviously, but as ex-commie & ex-USSR, we still have a shit ton of similarities. Nevertheless, I will try not to get into too many details that will compromise authenticity.

Luxury, glamour, wealth, gold, jewellery, diamonds, class, facades, masks, masquerades, social gatherings, lies, marriages, politics, horses, deals, gambling... These represent some of the few words people from everywhere around would describe the royal family.

Why do some still exist, anyway? Shouldn’t they have just completely disappeared at the same time with the Romanov family? ...Stupid cartoon movies and their resurrection of Anastasia...

Nobody truly cares about these rich rats who worked naught for their wealth, and would never understand the struggle and poverty of the normal citizens of Russia...They just live in their abnormally huge palace, having more servants than the population of Moscow and eat at one meal more than normal people do in one week altogether.

How utterly ridiculous.

Their lives are all perfect, they marry themselves to keep that ridiculous purity and their infinite wealth in the family...How atrocious! What about charity? Kindness? Altruism? Helping out the common folk?

All these thoughts, and you’d think a very bitter and vindictive, very poor and malicious person came up with, and yet, the reality was rather distorted.

From the top stair of the palace, in a dark room, sitting on the windowpane, a gorgeous young woman cast her dull eyes over the snowy city and the people hurrying down the roads, hoping to go home before it got too late and cold.

Maybe they were poor and hateful, and rightfully so, she’d say, but perhaps they can also be deemed happier, if they can take into account their freedom...As much as the government provides them, at least - Yet even so, even the poorest person held more freedom than this caged bird, forever trapped and shackled by fate from the second she was born...As if she had any choice, that is.

Perhaps she deserves this treatment, this hatred, this...Manipulation from her own family, who only see her as a political and financial pawn, planning her marriage from the second she first cried into this world... Like a martyr, she will accept all torture and live on, never knowing what ‘living’ truly means, only imagining it by reading all day and all night long, or when she plays the piano one of the many songs she learnt.

As the grandfather clock rang to 7 times to announce dinner time, Y/N dressed in a simple, yet elegant dress, put on a pair of classy black stiletto shoes, and went down to the luxurious dining room, sitting in her usual seat, only for a brunet stranger dressed in white to grace the sight with his unexpected presence.

She didn’t dare speak to him, yet her eyes couldn’t leave his form, no matter how her meek demeanour made her hung her head to avoid showing anything other than her demure expression.

Thankfully, her parents arrived, along with the waiters that served the food, so it saved some of the awkwardness of the unknown.

“Y/N, darling, this man here is Fyodor Dostoevsky. He is here as a writer, wanting to learn more about us and about people in general. As a compromise, he agreed to be your personal guard...Considering the other one was a sacrilege to our dear daughter...What a lecherous man, making advances on you...But, anyway, let us toast to the success of this young man’s writing career!” the mother raised her champagne, and the four of them clinked glasses. “I thank you for the unique opportunity to learn and understand society and people better. May you live a long and prosperous life.” this new stranger held a charming smile on his face, trying to impress and buy everyone’s trust. “Do you have yet any idea about the theme of your novel? Or, perhaps an idea for a title?” the father asked, making the brunet shake his head softly. “No, not yet, unfortunately. I prefer to study hard, and only then, when I am educated enough, to allow the flow of creation to take over me.” this Fyodor nodded in acknowledgement, while the girl kept completely silent for the duration of the dinner, waiting for everything to be over so she could escape back to the little faux haven she created and called ‘safe’. “Y/N, show Mr. Fyodor to your room, he will be sleeping there for now on. The butlers already brought a spare bed there, so it’s alright.” the mother waved her hand dismissively, and the girl could only bow quickly and go back to her room, making sure to point out what each of the rooms represent, before reluctantly inviting him to her bedroom. “Please, make yourself at home, Mr. Dostoevsky. I hope it will be comfortable and to your liking. Should you need anything, please do not hesitate to tell me so we can make your stay as great as possible.” she spoke to him in a soft, meek voice, not daring to make eye contact in any way. “Call me Fyodor, no need for formalities. We are going to room together, might as well become friendly. What don’t you tell me about yourself? Your hobbies, your interests, your dreams, your aspirations.” the brunet paced around the room, observing all of her personal objects, which, turned out, except for jewellery, books, a small, pink Gloxinia, and a pickup with 1920s British vinyls, there was nothing to represent her...Which was, in its own way, an intriguing peculiarity. “I...Like reading, flowers, music...And I wish I could get a dog and learn how to play the violin too. There aren’t many interesting things about me...I’m not special or anything out of the ordinary. I am not allowed to put myself out there in any way, so this is the little I could do to express who I am.” so tried to be as vague as possible, fidgeting on her feet uncomfortably, knowing that the punishment for embarrassing the family would be grave, should it be known. “Hmmm...I see, I see...Ah, you’re a Tolstoy reader, I see. Anna Karenina...Very interesting, yet tragic, wouldn’t you say?” he asked, picking up a book that was supposed to be hidden. “N-No! Don’t take that out of there...Nobody can know I have it. I was strictly forbidden from reading it...Please don’t tell anyone I have this book.” the princess snatched the book from his hands, hiding it further back in the bookshelf. “Ohh~? Why would you not be allowed to read a Russian book? You’d think the Russian princess would be urged to read Russian literature.” he stepped in front of her, picking her chin and raising her head slightly to allow him to look deep into her fawn-like eyes. “Because of the ending...And the controversial decisions Anna made, some of them even contradictory to her own beliefs, and yet, she made her own decisions, at some point in her life. When your fate is decided from before you are born, having opinions is the worst enemy of a puppeteer...Wouldn’t you agree?” she muttered, walking away from him, taking her nightgown and walking towards her bathroom.

This made the man think more about how dysfunctional this supposed perfect royal family actually was. The illusion of a flawless individual, living together, forming a flawless family, a flawless life, in a flawless palace.

Perhaps facades aren’t as obvious to see through, or understand, for while the parents are completely bland...This girl...So much potential locked away in a timid chest of massive oak wood, embellished with overly expensive jewellery, clearly unwanted. She could be a genius, shining in her happiness, glowing like her dazzling smile, and yet, there she is, eclipsed by chaff, when she could be burning brighter than the morning Sun.

Those parents of hers think he wants to be here and get dazzled by the infinite stream of diamonds that keep flowing around the whole place - And yet, perhaps they are the ones living in mental poverty, considering they believe financial wealth and fame is the sole reason for being alive - To uphold a certain kind of status that they worked naught for, but received hereditary, from one lazy deadbeat to yet another generation of useless people for this society.

They truly are like the plague, incredibly rare nowadays, but completely fatal once you fall grasp to their dark claws that drag you to hell to succumb to their completely fictional utopian world that they create only amongst themselves, as if whatever lives beyond these golden walls is putrid and deserves to rot to pieces.

As his mind wandered farther and farther away down the country, snowy roads he created with his own imagination of thoughts, he heard the bathroom door softly open, and the angelic creature garbed in a thin - Possibly silk, snow white nightgown - Stepped back into their now shared room, and just as before, her demeanour resembled that of a small, frightened fawn, or a bunny.

When you have to deal with such a pure being that could completely shatter, it’s difficult not to impulsively break down all walls around and snatch her away - It’s close to impossible not to attempt to test all existing boundaries and see the limits where she would break...Or, almost, at least.

However, abstinence makes for a great suspense and greed...You want more...And more...And the more you wait, the harder it is to resist, but the satisfaction you get when the frail creature trusts you enough to eat from your own palm, and you finally claim it as yours...

It’s Heavenly.

“Sweet Dreams, Fyodor.” she spoke softly, putting on a Tchaikovsky vinyl and picking up a book, getting in bed and reading it, the only light still open being a dim lantern on her nightstand. “How would you like to show me around the city tomorrow?” the brunet asked so casually that it shocked the girl enough to drop her book on her lap. “O-Oh...U-Uhmm...I’m not exactly to go out of this place unless it’s for Christmas shopping...I’m sorry I can’t properly do as you wish...” she quickly took her book back, hiding her face to hide her embarrassment and disappointment. “Well, then, what a gorgeous coincidence, isn’t it? In barely two months, Christmas shall come, and then, you can properly show me around, correct?” the man mused, the ghost of a smirk playing on his face. “..You’re right! My, you’ll get to see the beautiful fairy light and Christmas decorations all around the city! I can’t believe it, you truly chose the perfect time to come here. Oh, and, the ballet, the opera and the national orchestra are going to perform...I believe The Nutcracker is going to play this year...And Traviata. It should be beautiful, don’t you agree?” Y/N asked with a soft smile on her face, sparks gleaming in her eyes, and for the first time since he’s met her, it felt like she was finally alive. “Yes, yes, I would have to agree. And if you are there with me, the experience will be even better.” he hummed, teasing the poor girl who had no idea what else to say to such bold affirmations. “O-Oh...W-Well...Th-Thank you...I-I think...Your presence there will also make the going out more interesting...And nice.” she offered a comeback that pleased the man well enough. “Good night to you as well, Printsessa.”

What a lovely young woman, he thought, as he closed his eyes and let his mind fly at different aspects of life and of humanity, trying to decipher each and every person he met that day and wondering if his assumptions were correct, as they always are.

Morning came by faster than expected as a shy ray of of Sun creeped inside the room through the window, but Fyodor was already awake, writing at the desk rather rapidly - Most likely, he had some inspiration hitting him, so he proceeded to pour out his conflicting thoughts on the paper, all while stealing a peek from time to time at the girl sleeping peacefully, almost as if she was a Disney Princess.

The way the soft light caressed her face had him take the stray streak of h/c hair and pull it back so it won’t tickle her awake, while also being allowed to watch her peacefully inhale and exhale, a small smile on her face...Perhaps she was having a beautiful dream? Was that why she told him to have sweet dreams? Were her dreams her only lovely escape from this horrible reality she was forced to live in?

There were so many mysteries yet to be unveiled, but all in due time, as Fyodor noticed the gentle flutter of her lashes, and with a grace only reserved to a Swan Princess, she raised and stretched with a sweet hum, and the brunet man watched as his eyes felt absolutely blessed seeing such a beauty...

If people complained that Disney Princesses weren’t relatable, since they have messy hair when they wake up, just like Anna, they clearly haven’t seen how perfect Y/N looks, even as she blinks her sleepiness away.

“I see you slept well, Printsessa. Good morning.” she heard him speak, and she noticed it wasn’t as en garde and...It almost seemed...Pleased to see her. “Fyodor...You woke up before me. You should have woke me up. Please wake me up next time, I wouldn’t want you to feel lonely or upset. This place is like a piranha tank...Thread carefully, otherwise, you’re like a little animal who fell in.” she quickly got up, rushing through her daily routine so she could be by his side, not only because her parents assigned her to that, but also because this Dostoevsky man is the only little thing that could rip her out of her completely dull routine and show her a little bit of insight into what could be something out of her imagination entirely. “Aww, the little songbird wishes to spend time with me, how adorable. Very well, Printsessa, what is it that you want to do today? My job here is to observe and write, after all.” he asked, crossing one leg over the other, resting his chin on his fist, watching her with intense interest. “Oh, well, I have to practice the piano today, but other than that, I have nothing in my schedule.” she explained, guiding him to the music room that very much resembled a whole orchestra surrounding a place - Not too small, yet not too big either - Meant for ballroom dancing. “I bet the national orchestra isn’t as fancy as this place is.” he mused, walking up to the cello and tracing his fingertips across the chords. “...Do you know how to play it?” she asked, walking up to him, having the curiosity of a baby fawn exploring the world. “Would you like to hear?” he asked, sitting on the chair and expertly hugging the cello, he grabbed the bow and teased the girl with a mischievous look in his gleaming purple eyes. “Oh, yes, please, if it’s not too much to ask! It would be absolutely splendid.” Y/N clasped her hands together, grinning widely as she stepped a few feet away to give him enough space so he could start playing. “It would be my pleasure, Printsessa.” and with the nod of his head, he started playing the famous Sugar plum fairy song, making the girl gasp in surprise at how gorgeous it sounded.

She crouched to reach the perfect eye view of the bow gliding along the chords, her mouth slightly agape and she gazed with absolute wonder, not even realising when the song was over, for she was much too mesmerised.

“Well, Printsessa, how did you like it?” he rested his arms on the curves of the cello, leaning forwards for a better look at her. “That was better than even our national cello player! It was absolutely stunning, woaw...Just...You left me speechless! You’re...You’re...You are...Perfectly splendid!” she clapped for him rapidly and incredibly enthusiastic, making him chuckle in amusement at her cuteness. “Why, thank you, Printsessa. How about you entertain me now, little Anicyka Maya?” he carefully put the Cello in its place, stepping in front of her and caressing her porcelain skin, quenching his thirst for discovery by seeing her rosy cheeks. “Well...I can’t say I’m anywhere as great as you are...But, sure. I hope you will like it.” she looked down, fidgeting with her fingers as she hurried timidly to the piano, and taking a deep breath, cracking her fingers, she liter her fingers skillfully dance over the keys, as her voice followed every word of the song called “Katyusha”. However, she wasn’t expecting him to applaud and whistle to her, congratulating her for being such a beautiful nightingale. “You clearly underestimate your hard work and talent. Perhaps we should play together one day. I’m sure it would put a smile on your parents’ faces.” Fyodor bowed to kiss Y/N’s hand, only to hear the door opening. “Yes, Mr. Fyodor, we would quite like to hear the two of you dueting together. Since Y/N will have to perform both dance and a song at the piano, as a Christmas tradition, it will show how much she’s improved...If at all. I have to tell you the truth, Mr. Fyodor, over the past few years, she has been exceptionally disappointing...Well, perhaps you coming here will prove to give her a jolt in the right direction.” Y/N’s mother came out of nowhere in the music room, almost as if she was stalking the pair, and Fyodor could see how the Princess’ behaviour changed 180 degrees, and from the excitable and lively young girl, she went back to hide in her guarded shell, trying to protect herself from the numerous blows everyone throws her way.

And just as he expected, once they started playing, despite throwing in one or two intentional mistakes, while she had none of her own, the mother reprimanded her daughter, while praising him. He thought, at first, this was going to be some kind of tough love encouragement and determination she was trying to give the girl, but truly, it was nothing more than unrealistic dreams of an already flawless performance.

This family was nowhere close to being the perfect, or the most loving one, that was without a doubt. But being so horrible to your own daughter, humiliating her in front of a complete stranger, making her tremble softly while trying her best to keep herself from bursting into sobbing fits, was a whole different kind of cruel and unnecessary malice.

For some reason, Fyodor felt a certain kind of warmth in his chest...But not the same kind of warmth he feels when he is around Y/N, but something...Similar to fury. To rage. He was sure he never felt such a personal sort of offense, despite not being him that was belittled.

A terrifying sort of justice bubbled inside him, and he smirked, thinking about just one sole thing.

Crime and Punishment.

Fyodor hoped dearly that it would be only the maternal figure that was the problem, yet it seemed to be much worse, and the toxicity levels that kept vibing all over the place seemed to be equivalent to that of Chernobyl at the time of the explosion.

All throughout the week, he noticed the dirty looks all the staff was giving the Princess, possibly because she was being a shy and quiet pushover...But it went completely beyond his understanding how these servants would even dare be so rude to her, considering she is always so sweet to them, always forgives their mistakes and shares her whole allowance with them in equal parts...

But they complain it’s not enough. They complain others get more, or less, but clearly, they don’t care about that, they just want more and more money...They are greedy jackals who don’t care about the life or soul of a poor little lady who just wants to be happy...

But perhaps happiness isn’t meant for royalty.

A week until Christmas, and Fyodor was ready with the quick draft, and he left it on the desk for Y/N to read, and he couldn’t help but admire and drink in each and every emotion she would express on her lovely face with every word she read, every action, every chapter that stirred more and more conflicting feelings and thoughts battling together - Conflicts that she was trying so hard to hide, no doubt feeling his burning, hawk-like stare on her, analysing her as if she was a new specimen under a microscope.

She was great at hiding what she truly felt, yet her eyes betrayed her inner self, the sparkling of nostalgia and sadness crawling out, shrieking at the top of her lungs to be discovered and taken out of this well of darkness she was drowning in - She wanted to be saved, she was at her breaking point, and clearly, she was afraid.

Afraid of life. Afraid of people. Afraid of her family. Afraid of this society. Afraid her own self. Afraid of her actions.

And most of all.

She was afraid of spiritual, mental and emotional imprisonment.

As Christmas approached with rapid footsteps, Fyodor could notice how Y/N stiffer, more silent, flinching more, keeping herself in check, alone, barely speaking to anyone...Clearly, she was being stressed out and afraid of the consequences of screwing up anything.

Perhaps, the problem here was the fatalist and completely out of her control destiny she was thrown in, and she knew from the very beginning that, no matter how flawless her performance was, she would still be reprimanded and punished, so she resigned herself to this kind of treatment...The same as every year.

“It’s so beautiful outside...And it’s snowing...! So soft and cold...It’s almost numbing you entirely, but the beauty of Christmas still melts down even the most frozen of hearts.” she spoke with such sadness dripping from her tongue, that Fyodor felt the need to take his fur hat and put it on her head before taking a hold of both of her hands, rubbing them together and kissing her knuckles. “It’s not the day or the decorations that are supposed to move a person, but the kindness and altruism of people. From what I’ve seen in the past weeks, the only consistency in this place is the beauty of your heart and the cruelty of everyone else that keep eclipsing you. You deserve better than this, kroshka.” the man spoke simply, waiting to see the way she’d react. “...I didn’t choose this life, nor did it choose me, yet here I am, trying to keep my head above the water in a whirlpool. I have all my life planned and written ahead of me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. From the very beginning, since before I was even born, they knew they will sell me out to some old, rich man, just so they could benefit, but they cared naught about my well-being, as long as I could keep him entertained in any way possible. The least I can do is try to enjoy the little things...Even if they are nothing more than just that...Little things.” she admits to him, taking away her hands and holding them to her chest, too afraid to trust her own heart. “You let the servants make a mockery out of your kindness. You let your family humiliate you in front of everyone. You let common folk bash you, even if you tip them greatly...Tell me, krasotka, have you read the draft to my book yet?” they continued to stroll down the cobbled streets, looking up at the snowflakes gently dancing in the light of the lamposts, as Fyodor carried most of her shopping bags that held Christmas gifts for everyone but herself. “Yes...I did...But I did not finish it. I was much too afraid to read the ending of it.” she nodded to him, biting her lip nervously. “Afraid? Why ever would you be afraid of reading some words made of ink on a piece of paper?” the man frowned in confusion and interest, hearing such a peculiarity of an answer. “Because...Because I know that Prince Myshkin actually represents me...And how life treats me...So I’m afraid the ending will hint to Anna Karenina’s ending...And I don’t want that. I don’t...That’s why I’m afraid...I’m scared that...I’m scared that I won’t be able to endure this madness anymore, and sooner, rather than later, I will shatter into an unrecognisable version of myself that not even I will decipher...And I will do scary things that I would otherwise be afraid of even thinking about. You know I read the book, I wouldn’t put it past you to tease me like that.” she smiled ironically, shaking her head to stop herself from shuddering at such a dreadful thought. “Congratulations, Printsessa, you are surely insightful. However, I must advise you to read it, and keep in mind that you are not entirely wrong in your thinking. While the ending isn’t identical to Tolstoy’s novel, it isn’t on the complete opposite spectrum either. What you read is one of the possible outcomes of your life, should you choose to remain a passive onlooker and let everyone control you, like a little, pretty doll. Should you, however, choose to take fate into your own hands and finally make your first choice of your life...I can promise you, you are going to be much happier.” Fyodor kissed her forehead before leading her back to the palace so she could take the day off...For tomorrow, she must perform.

But the author wasn’t lying, Y/N realised as she spent the last hours past curfew to finish the book, and she realised that while Myshkin didn’t kill himself, he was still dead inside, and just like the catatonic state he was stuck into, she has been living a life of complete comatose herself. Fyodor was right all along - A life without choices is not a life, nor is it one without freedom and happiness - And maybe, for the first time in her life, she would make the most difficult decision the universe threw at her, and that was to choose between Duty and Happiness, something every royal member, especially women all over the world, who were seen as nothing more than political and decorative objects meant to create heirs and nothing more, had to pick, and dutifully chose to sacrifice themselves to keep the family and the nobility going.

But not anymore....

“You look beautiful today, my little zaika. This velvet colour of your dress, the way it highlights you stunning silhouette...And this jewellery...And your hair and make up...You are above and beyond the most beautiful person to ever grace this life. How are you going to enchant us today?” Fyodor pat down his white suit so he would look completely impeccable...Or, perfectly splendid, as Y/N would say. “Does it truly matter, in the end? Nobody but you will pay attention, and at the end of the day, I will only hear critiques. It’s the same every year, so there is no point in bothering to stand out, have any particularity or give a name. It just...Is. So...Let me get this over with so I can go to my room and pretend this day never happened...Again.” she muttered, hooking her arm to his, entering the big ballroom together.

A ton of people were there, not only family, but enough family ‘friends’, all of them incredibly rich, with a combined fortune great enough to buy the whole Russia somehow...And all eyes were on her. She didn’t mind. She was used to the nervousness and the either critical or lustful stares she received - But only during these kinds of events, and because she was a Princess, otherwise nobody would have cared about her existence or her feelings...

Nobody...Except for Fyodor.

Until the time of his arrival, nobody cared about her, nor did they bother trying to understand or talk to her, and yet, here he was, always by her side, and frankly, she fell in love with him. She, for the first time in her life, cared naught about everything surrounding her, and she thought solely about him and their time spent together. That is all that mattered to her.

So, with that in mind, and a warm heart, she performed the Waltz of Flowers flawlessly at the piano, along with a few other songs, adding some festive ones. Fyodor was absolutely captivated by the spells she put on people whenever she radiated with such pure gentleness, just like Christmas’ true angel.

Her fingers glided so gracefully over the keys, as she hummed along the music, not even bothering to look at the sheet, for she new everything by heart - But somehow, it all sounded even more magical than before, and nobody could tell why.

But Fyodor knew, and he smiled, figuring out her trick. And he was going to call her out for that when this whole charade was over. But for now, he allowed himself to enjoy bathing in her radiating warmth, for she was shining brighter than the Sun itself.

By the time she finished her little repertoire, she did a pretty courtesy and walked to the man in the white suit, taking a glass of red wine and sipping from it, that gentle smile never leaving her face.

They exchanged no words, but there was no need for that, as the look in their eyes spoke more than anything else, and they danced the night away, together, in graceful and intimate waltzes, or swaying together, keeping their hearts glued together, beating in sync and feeling each other’s heat.

She might not have wanted to end up like Karenina, but she wasn’t too far away from her situation, and she knew very well, should she leave with this man, she was going to break down every rule, and find an identity for herself, after all these years.

But happiness is emphemeral in the life of a Princess, and just before the Christmas Ball ended, her parents dragged her to the table of this old man, so they would share gifts. This old man, who so happened to be the man chosen to be her future husband, and had fewer hairs on his head and teeth in his mouth than her age.

Most of the gifts were pretty basic - Jewellery for women, cigars, fedoras, watches for men...But for her...She received some of he oddest gifts so far - And yet, she thought life couldn’t surprise her anymore.

Several little outfits, fit for babies, were neatly folded in all boxes, sans one - The sole box being a small, velvet box, which revealed a sapphire ring that expressed the definite bond of marriage that must be officiated very soon, through papers and a church ceremony.

Frozen was the clock, frozen was the time, and frozen was life itself, for the shock was great - Being put on the spot is scarier than the anticipation and fear of venturing into the unknown - Yet here she was, with her supposed fossil of a husband, with several babies promised to be born, and a very angry author, watching the disgusting exchange of pleasantries between the elder people.

He noticed Y/N doing a little courtesy, excusing herself with a nervous smile, and rushing out of the ballroom, the clicks of her elegant heels giving away her location at all time. Following her, he saw her on the edge of the rood, barefoot, her back to the empty space, as she hummed, looking up at the clouds pouring snow, and swaying to her tippy toes occasionally.

“You sure like the feeling of being alive, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t be staying there after being faced with such a disgusting situation.” he pointed out, clasping his hands behind his back and carefully stepped towards her. “Life is full of surprises. But it is not called life, unless you have a say in the paths that you go down by. Today, I realised what I have to do in order to achieve true bliss and happiness...Something ethereal, although utopian in its quintessence. I have to make a choice. And right now, I’m making it.” she smiled, extending her arms to the side, resembling a Goddess, as a few stray tears streamed down her face - But they were tears of relief, not of fear, anxiety of depression. She was happy. “You said you didn’t want to choose the path of Karenina, nor of Myshkin, and yet, there you are, on the brink of death, as the way to show that you are no longer a caged bird. Is it truly worth it, in the end?” Fyodor asked, frowning at the delusional words she was spewing. “Death is but the beginning of a new adventure, and with me falling, I will find out what freedom is, unlike all the other Princesses before me. It is not death I’m choosing, nor will I regret it as soon as I step into this free fall hazard, like Karenina, and, as you can see, I chose to wake up from my catatonic state, unlike Myshkin. I know what awaits me as soon as I reach the ground...But do you?” Y/N hummed in amusement, watching the conflict painted all over his face - And it was for the first time that Fyodor showed such confusion and inner turmoil, that much was obvious to her. “Stop this, Y/N, I don’t understand your reasoning, but don’t kill yourse- “ but he couldn’t finish his sentence, for the girl uttered just a few words - Words that changed even the rotation of the Earth around the Sun - And as she pushed herself on the tips of her toes, she embraced the cold wind of Winter being her guide down to the ground, as she watched the snowflakes following her down.

And she smiled.

Because love won, and life won, and she knew she chose correct - These weren’t the times to choose everyone else over herself anymore, and nor is she a saint, a martyr, an angel, or some perfect Christian role model. She was just a woman thirsting for happiness and for the tangible sensation of life and of flying, and with this jump, she got completely wasted.

The secure embrace of a white angel made sure she lived for another day, but not quite, for her guardian angel jumped to save her, yet had no idea himself that he wasn’t the only special one, after all, and just as they were going to reach the ground, time seemed to stop, and they reached the ground gracefully and softly, like two linked feathers.

She lay down on the crystal blanket of snow, laughing mirthfully, almost with a childlike charm, as her long hair was sprawled all over her, and Fyodor’s arms were fiercely holding her, and he looked down at her, his eyes wide in understanding.

“I didn’t choose death. I chose life. I chose love...I chose you, and I chose me. I knew you had an ability too, and that you were confident in it, so I was sure that, should you choose to, you could jump from the roof of the palace to save me - Which you did. I never really have the opportunity to use my ability, but it’s rather useful in some situations, if I can say so myself. So, by the way you’d respond to my feelings and actions, I’d know whether I chose right or not...I think we both know the answer now, don’t we?” she grinned mischievously, extending a hand to his face to caress it gently. “That’s the most idiotic, most reckless thing anyone has ever one...And yet, you strategised everything, as if we were pieces in a game of chess. How did you get the courage to reach such a conclusion?” his voice was low, like a murmur, trying to understand her impossible, labyrinthine mind. “Life offered me a Christmas gift today, and that was serendipity, so, I used it. Everything else was a perfect strategy of a game of chess I played myself - The White King versus the Black King - And, was far as my luck and the universe brought about, I believe I won. But you must still answer back, otherwise, the magic will vanish.” Fyodor noticed a smirk growing on her face - One that somehow resembled his, and he almost felt conflicted seeing her mimicking him in his demeanour, in a way...But he also felt incredibly proud. “I cannot take you with me, Y/N. The part I walk is dangerous, it could even be fatal, and I would rather you not walk down a boulevard of broken dreams. You just now achieved happiness, don’t throw it out of the window. It a world full of crimes, I choose to be both the justiciar and the executioner of the unworthy. In a world of crime, I shall inflict punishment upon the evil-doers and paint this world red with the blood of the guilty.” he wanted her, he truly didn’t want to leave without her, nor did he want to leave her alone, here, with these hyenas, but could he really have it in his heart to endanger her so? “Fyodor, my darling, it matters naught for me whether I live or die, as long as the journey is by your side, and I’m not shackled anymore. I want to see, I want to hear, I want to touch, I want to taste, I want to smell, I want to learn. Everything. Without exception. There is a whole world out there, open, waiting to be explored and unveiled, and I shall be its explorer. As long as I have you by my side, I will surely be fearless. Being a hero, being a villain, or anything in between is of no concern for me...However, I cannot deny that I would be rather...Interested in seeing you deliver the sentence down to...Some specific people.” she giggled, winking at him, as she obviously hinted towards her kin and the unlimited amount of gossips she has heard about so many people, over the years.

With a wide smirk on his face, Fyodor Dostoevsky helped Princess Y/N on her feet and gave her a passionate, fire-like kiss, before picking her up bridal style and making their way to her room, so she would start packing and leave at the earliest convenience.

There may still be a bit of official work to do at the palace, and as his ability is called, there is no crime without punishment, he was going to make sure of that. Until then, there was one thing certain, and one alone, that was going to guide the both of them to a path of exciting uncertainty and thrill.

“I love you, my dear Y/N.”

#bsd fyodor #bsd anime #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd imagine #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs imagine #bungou stray dogs #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor dostoevsky imagine #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bungou stray dogs fyodor x reader

66 notes · View notes

crushedbyhyperbole · 4 years ago

Text

Indomitable

Pairing: Sebastian Stan / Plus Size Reader

Words: 1.5k

A/N: Written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club endless quarantine as long as there are prompts we’ll write them thingy, and a prompt from @prunes-said-bucky. I’ve never written Sebastian before, never really considered it TBH, since he’s not just a character to play with but hey, I gave it a shot. Hope it’s not horrific.

Warnings: Angst, body shaming, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, strong and confident plus size reader, emotional support, kissing and teasing, no smut.

There is a section that contains a list of body shaming comments. This is a block quote with ######### at the start and end, so feel free to skip over those if you are so inclined.

***FINAL REMINDER TO READ THE WARNINGS FOLKS***

Sebastian slumped back in his chair. The computer screen glared at him accusingly as bile rose in his throat. He did this. He failed to protect you. His career, and the whole shebang that went with it; toxic.

There were good parts, hell, there were great parts, but this… this wasn’t one of them. His fans were usually great. Kind, accepting, fun, keen, and dedicated. He loved Winter’s Children and gave as much of himself as he could while maintaining a balance that kept him sane.

You were part of that. Far removed from the lime light, you were a nobody. A regular person. Not tied to the entertainment industry in anyway other than being his girlfriend. The world barely knew you existed and he worked hard to keep it that way.

Until now.

“Hey, sweetie!” You knocked on the study door after letting yourself into his apartment, peeking in to see him at his desk. “You need anything? I’m just about to make some fresh coffee.” You smiled knowingly; he loved his coffee

“Oh, hey, yeah sure.” Sebastian scrambled to shut the screen off so you wouldn’t see what he was reading. “Thanks, babe.” He smiled back.

“Oooohh, was that porn?” You smirked, coming to stand behind him, resting your hands on his shoulders and feeling tension there. “Discovering something new you want to try, huh?” You teased a little to lighten the mood. Something had him stressed out.

He sighed, leaning his head back to rest against your stomach. From there he looked up at you, past your boobs, with worry in his big blue eyes.

“I wish it was porn.”

“Skype audition not go so well?” You massaged his taut trapezius until he moaned lightly, relaxing under your touch. You slid your hands into the neck of his shirt, smoothing them over his chest, feeling the light prickle of stubble where his chest hair was starting to grow back in. “Want to talk about it?”

He wrapped his hands around your wrists, stilling you gently. The nervous lick of his lips concerned you.

“Oh, the audition went great.” He sat up, swivelling his chair to face you where he tugged on your hips to sit you across his lap. “It’s what came after that I need to talk to you about.”

You could see something was really eating him up but you let him get to it in his own time.

“I spoke to Elaine.”

“Social media manager, Elaine?” You knew every member of team of people who Sebastian relied on in his career. Elaine had been with Seb for years, helping him managing his social media presence, and she was very good at what she did.

“Right.” He stroked your lower back absently. “Well, I called her because some pictures got out. Of us.”

You knew he tried to keep you separate from all the media stuff. He needed a safe haven, and he also didn’t want to ruin your life with paparazzi hounding you and gossip sites dissecting your whole existence.

“Of the other week when we went out comet watching and ended up getting jiggy in the back of your car?” You teased.

He laughed, scrunching his face up in that cute way you loved. “No.” He grinned. “Surprisingly, not that.”

“Phew,” you play acted utter relief, “thank heavens my tatas didn’t make it onto TMZ.”

“You’re amazing, you know that right?” He squeezed his arms around your waist.

“Yeah, I know,” you beamed, “caught you, hook, line and sinker, didn’t I?” You murmured into his hair, pressing a kiss there. “What’s up?”

“I don’t really know how to deal with this, y/n. It’s everything I’ve always tried to shield you from.”

You tightened your arms around his shoulders, reassuringly. This really wasn’t like him at all. “Just show me.”

The pictures were fine. Seb and you, sat on a wall by the banks of the Danube, eating charcoal black ice cream in the sun. Holding hands by the stalls of a street market. Him stealing a kiss while you laughed at something he said. They were older photos from a trip you took to Romania the year before. You smiled, remembering the fun you had there. Seb’s boy-like exuberance as he rediscovered his country of birth with you. They were great memories.

It was the bitchy comments that he was concerned about.

##########

Why would someone as hot as him be with someone like her?

Ikr, she fat

Who is she? Nvr seen her b4

Not surprised we’ve never seen her. I’d be embarrassed to bee seen with her too.

Pity fuck

Maybe it’s for a role.

Guurrrllll… Swap that ice cream for a salad.

She’s disgusting! Sebby what are you doing?!!!

Look at that fat body! What a waste of a pretty face…

Pretty? Lol pretty ugly.

What does he see in her?

He looks younger in this. Must’ve already dumped her fat ass.

She’s curvy? Maybe he likes that. Not my cup of tea though.

Curvy like the Michelin man lol

Definitely not the right clothes for your body type sweetie… dress appropriately.

Lost all respect for Seb now UGH!

Look at that cellulite!

Seabass meets a whale lol

##########

You glanced through the comments. Most were positive but some were brutal. You could see why he was upset by these. He cared a great deal about his fans but this was making him consider if it was worth the effort.

Sebastian swallowed nervously, looking up into your eyes.

“You’re worried about how I feel about this?”

“Of course I am.” His tone was pleading. “I love you. I never wanted you to get dragged into any of this crap, but look at them!” He was getting agitated. “I’m going to tell Elaine to take it all down, I’m done.”

“What’s that going to prove, huh?” You soothed.

“Nothing. But it’ll be gone, right? No more fan stuff if they can’t respect both of us.”

“I dunno, it seems a shame to deprive your good and loyal fans of their sexy seabass,” you winked at him, “besides if the things people did online got to me I’d have drawn a line in the sand at some of that filthy dirty fan fiction they like to write.”

“C’mon, y/n, I’m being serious,” he begged with his eyes. “They can’t talk about you like this. It’s shitty and they’re completely wrong.”

“Babe.” You levelled a steady gaze at him. “I don’t care what these people think.” Stroking your fingers soothingly through his hair, you scratched and massaged gently. “The only people whose opinions matter about any of that stuff are right here in this room, okay?”

Seb sighed and hid his face in your plush bosom, and for a while neither of you spoke. He relaxed, breathing slowing until you thought he’d fallen asleep. You trailed your fingers across the back of his neck and to the sensitive place below his ear.

“If you keep at that there’s going to be trouble.” Muffled against your chest you could feel him smirking.

“I like trouble.” You whispered with a cheeky grin as he lifted his head.

“Thanks for distracting me.” He stretched up to place a chaste kiss on your lips. “I think I know what to do.”

“Oh?” You chuckled as he scooted the wheels of the chair closer to the desk with you still in his lap. You tried to give him some space but he held you firm.

“Stay put,” he shifted so you were stable again, “this’ll take 2 seconds.”

Sebastian fired off an email to Elaine, letting her know everything was fine. You weren’t concerned by the comments but he suggested letting a few of his top most trusted fans to help moderate the official site. Let them get invested in the two of you as a facet of his brand. You were definitely here to stay.

He counted himself the luckiest man alive to have found someone so caring, kind and gentle as you, but also someone so confident and steadfast. Your spirit was unbreakable. You were his rock, the foundations on which he grew and thrived.

“So, now that you’re done righting wrongs, what’s the plan for today?” You asked sweetly. “You asked me to sleep over on a work day, so…”

“Well, first of all,” he eyed you mischievously, “I’m going to reiterate how much I love every single inch of you.”

“I like the sound of that,” you simpered.

“Do you?” He teased.

“I do.”

“Good,” Seb nuzzled your neck seductively. “Then we’re going to go out to eat,” he nipped your ear with his teeth. “I made reservations.”

“Sounds… public.” You sighed, distracted.

“Don’t care.”

“Okay…”

“And then,” he pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Then, I want to talk to you about getting a place together.”

“You had this planned? You kissed him between sentences.

“I did.”

“Seems rushed.”

“Four years is plenty long enough,” he murmured.

“Ok,” you smiled against his lips, “but I’m keeping my apartment.”

“Of course.” He slid his hands into your hair ready to deepen the kiss but paused. “Where else is all your craft stuff going to live?”

Laughter rang out as you swatted at him and he tickled your waist. The world could do whatever the hell it wanted. As long as you both had each other, there was nothing else you needed, and nothing you needed to prove.

#HBC Drunk Drabbles #sebastian stan x plus size reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fluff #body shaming #confident plus size reader #angst #no smut #cloudy's writing #indomitable

225 notes · View notes

osakaprince · 4 years ago

Text

𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐚 - 𝐳.𝐜𝐥 & 𝐩.𝐣𝐬

the eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that is usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — after a tragic accident that left you without your two best friends, the duo decides to pay you a visit on their one year anniversary

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 — sad, a little fluff

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 — mentions of death

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 — 1000+

you’d be lying, to not only yourself but everyone else, if you said you didn’t think about them everyday. they were your best friends, how could you not? having the lights of your life ripped away so suddenly could only result in such reaction.

today was their one year since passing and the entire atmosphere was off. the sky showed no hope of sun, clouds masking across in shades of gray. the air inside your room — where you lay, unable to get up —seemed to slowly be suffocating you.

“y/n?” jaemin sauntered into your room, eyes already red from crying in his own. “taeyong brought everyone breakfast. he wanted me to ask if you were hungry.”

you turned to look at the sad boy, “no.. thank you, though.”

he didn’t push it further. jaemin knew how hard you took the boys’s loss. though, everyone did. it was apparent when it became apart of your routine to alternate between chenle and jisung’s bed every night, soaking in the last bit of them that you had.

the morning slowly turned into mid afternoon and you had yet to move from the mattress. you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was an energy circling around you, trying to grab your attention with every brisk waft of air that nipped at your nose. pulling the covers up over your head, you closed your eyes and tried to fall back asleep.

“wow, napping when your favorite people are here?” a voice tsked and you swore you nearly jumped out of your own skin.

yanking the blanket down, you were convinced your eyes were deceiving you. maybe this is what sleep deprivation does to you because there in front of you stood chenle and jisung. they looked exactly as they did the day of the accident, before all of the trauma wounds and shredded clothes.

chenle plopped down on his bed beside you with the biggest grin, “miss us?”

“wh-how-you-” you couldn’t seem to formulate any sort of proper sentence.

jisung joined the other boy on the bed so they were now both sitting in front of you. you couldn’t take your eyes off of them, trying to process what in the hell was happening. how did they get here? were you just dreaming?

jolting up, you leaned in closer to analyze, “how did you get here?”

“well, we’re obviously dead,” chenle deadpans then returns to his bubbly self. “but we’ve been watching over you for the past year and felt like it was only right to visit on a day you might need us the most.”

jisung leaned back on his hands, “think of us as your guardian angels.”

you stared blankly, “i’m losing my mind.”

chenle and jisung had been following you around the dorm for the past two hours, being as loud and chaotic as possible because nobody else could hear them. they informed you that only one person could see them per visit; strict rules from the higher figure, they said.

“oh, y/n!” jisung jumped down from the couch he and chenle were bouncing on. “let’s go to sm town! i wonder if we’ll see anyone we know?”

he was going to be surprised.

you watched at they raced each other down the sidewalk towards the building, giggling at how their hair flew up against the wind. there was no doubt bypassers thought you were deranged for laughing at nothing. by the time you caught up to them, they were standing across from the shop, shock spread across their face.

jisung glanced down at you, “there’s no one here.. it’s usually crazy busy?”

stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets, you exhaled deeply, “that’s the reality of it, sungie. ever since you two passed, business has been down. nobody wants to be reminded that you’re gone.”

chenle gaped at the empty window. due to low levels of sales and staffs inability to see their faces plastered across the walls without crying, the company agreed to close down shop for a while. unfortunately, it had yet to reopen even a year later.

“i never thought we had such an affect.” he drew his eyes away. “we were the youngest, little noobs. figured it wouldn’t haven been that big of a deal.”

you furrowed your eyebrows in surprise, “what do you mean? the company lost its pride and joy. you two brought energy to everyone you came in contact with. there wasn’t one person that wasn’t hit heavily by your deaths. you were so loved, boys. you still are.”

you hadn’t even noticed the tears pouring down your cheeks until chenle wiped them away with his thumb. jisung hugged you tightly and patted your head, keeping you close. your heart sank and reality set in when you couldn’t hear his heartbeat. he really was gone; and so was chenle.

“we have to get going soon,” chenle whispered whilst joining you both in the hug. “don’t wanna upset the boss man.”

pulling away, you looked up and for the first time in what felt like forever, you genuinely smiled. these were your other half. the people you trusted with every ounce of your being. despite not physically having them around anymore, you knew they’d always be by your side til the end.

“what are you trying to say, y/n?” the chairman sat at the head of the table.

you had gathered all of the members and board directors to discuss a matter very important to you. though, the boys didn’t speak much, wanting to hear what chairman had to say before giving an opinion, you knew they were entrusting in your idea.

“i’m saying we should reopen sm town, sir.” you managed to speak so clearly yet your hands were trembling. “i think it’s time to continue on with our lives. not to forget our boys, but to accept and begin a new chapter with broadened eyes.”

chairman slowly tapped his foot several times on the floor, “and what makes you think this is a good idea?”

a subtle smile appeared, reminiscing back to a month ago. the pain you had previously felt when thinking of your best friends was no longer as prevalent. now you knew they were safe and sound together, watching over you and the team.

“i know it’s what chenle and jisung would want.”

82 notes · View notes

fics-not-tragedies · 5 years ago

Text

Italian anger

This fic is based on a request I got ages ago, that was sent by @queenselana and hopefully it’s something that fills in the need.

SUMMARY: You were offered to Santino as a gift from your family that wanted to repair their relationship with the D’Antonios. After you two got married you absolutely loathed him, but one day when you walk into the conference room in the middle of a meeting he does something that changes your opinion on him. Words: 2608; Warnings: smut and a tad bit of angst;

Readers tag list:

@spookier-than-u; @oreofenyloetyloamina; @derangedcupcake; @geostarr; @catsmieow; @wickedlangdon; @bodhi-black; @bugalouie; @onebatch--twobatch; @fandom-lover-4; @mikaneonox; @drunkonyellow; @spadesandaces2342; @harrisongslimited; @hhighkey; @lunilate; @i-cant-remember-my-old-login; @sgt-morgan; @coloursunlimited; @childrenofthegun; @weminiaturestrawberry; @silverlambcaptain; @scarletmoon83; @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day; @krazycags01; @charlottebonnie; @moonlit-raven-haven; @girl-at-the-verge; @boopdedoop; @jardani-jovonovich-bitch; @ladyreapermc; @wifeofdarklordsworld; @mysticfluffyness; @zombiepandajfish; @kollover24; @greenmanalishi; @persephonehemingway; @lovelycarose;

You had been busy the whole day, managing the books for his club, filling up the orders for whatever was needed and by the time you were done, it was late to your standards. You knew Santino would kill you if he caught you still working so you decided to pack up and tell him that you were on your way to the home side of his large mansion.

You knocked on the door to the meeting room and walked in without waiting to be told to come in, you didn’t know if it was out of force of habit or that your mind was in a universe of its own. You opened the door as you were fixing the buttons of your coat and immediately regretted it.

“Santino I- nevermind,” you spoke as you turned back around to leave, a group of men stared at you as you turned. You cursed yourself as you forgot Santino had a meeting with his associates today.

“Bella, come in�� you heard Santino speak in his usual stern voice. You slowly turned back around, your cheeks tinted a light shade of pink.

“I’m sorry Santino, I completely forgot-”

“Come here” Santino cut you off, and tilted his head, signalling for you to cross the group of men and walk towards the front of the table where he sat. The room was silent as you walked up, the only noise that filled the room was the clicking of your heels on the marble floor.

He patted his thigh when you stood next to him, a proud smirk on his face as he watched his men look anywhere except at you. He liked showing you off and when you sat yourself down, he whispered in your ear, “I’ll only be a few minutes, bella, then I’ll take you home.”

He had one of his hands holding your waist to ensure you didn’t fall while the other cradled a cigarette. “Right where were we?” He asked, addressing the room and continuing on with the meeting as normal.

The meeting continued smoothly for a few moments and you eventually found yourself enjoying learning about this side of the business, although your heart dropped when you heard a snide comment slip out of a new member’s mouth.

“I thought whores weren’t allowed in meetings, Santino?” The man grinned, his grin morphing into a frown when nobody else laughed along with his comment. You felt Santino tense from beside you, his grip on your waist tightening, enough to possibly leave a slight mark, but not enough to hurt.

“What?” He asked, a look of pure hatred planted on his face as he narrowed his eyes at the younger man, “What the fuck did you just said?”

“No whores? Isn’t that your number one rule?” He defended as he crossed his arms against his chest and slouched down into his chair. Santino scoffed at the man, you saw him quickly clench his fist from the corner of your eye.

“Santino it’s fine, just a simple mistake” you whispered in attempt to defuse the situation.

“It’s not ok, I’m not going to tolerate you being disrespected right in front of me, especially by one of my own men” He shot back, his eyes never leaving the poor man who knew he had fucked up.

“Tutte fuori!” He demanded, “except you” he shouted, pointing his finger at the young associate, “no, faremo una piccola chiacchierata.”

Santino then turned to look at you, a softer look in his blue eyes as he whispered, “wait in the living room, it’ll only be a moment” then he gave your forehead a little kiss and waited until you had closed the door to speak again. You could hear the shouts coming from him as you walked along the corridor and you were certain you even heard the smashing of glass at one moment.

It was when the building became silent that you began to worry. You were just about to check up on Santino and the boy when you heard a knock on the door. You opened it to find the young man stood there, his head bent downwards and his hat between his hands.

“I am sincerely sorry about how I called you a few moments ago, you didn’t deserve that, I’m sure you’re a lovely lady and… well… I’m sorry.”

“And?” You heard Santino speak from behind him.

“And I’m an asshole.”

“Good, ora vaffanculo, cazzo!” Santino demanded and the man quickly walked away while your husband walked into the living room, his hands immediately going to your waist.

“You didn’t have to make it such a big deal, you know” you giggled, placing your hands on his shoulders as you looked up at him.

“Of course I did” he shot back, his lips turning up in a slight smile. You laughed at his words and gave him a quick kiss.

“Thank you” you whispered once you pulled apart.

Santino then pulled you into him and bit your lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth and kissing you in the most passionate way he could. You walked backwards slowly until your legs hit the back of your table and Santino lifted you up onto it, standing between your legs, his hands now resting on your thighs.

He moved his mouth to your neck where he placed a trail of kisses from your jaw down to the base of your neck. He squeezed your thigh before resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re all that matters to me.”

“Santi…” it was the first time you called him that and he looked at you with the softest look in his eyes you’ve ever seen. You gently cupped his large face in your hands and rested your forehead against his neck, “Baby, I know I’m not the best wife in the world, nor the one you deserve-”

“No, principessa, no” he cut you off by placing his fingers under your chin and gently lifting it up, so you could look at him, “you’re everything I need. I know you hated me at first… you loathed my presence, but for me… you were like the heavy rain after a muggy day… like the first rays of spring sun that warms the whole world. I needed you more than you thought.”

“Santi, my dear…” you breathed out and he blinked away the tears that formed in his eyes, “Santi your hand is shaking.”

“I’m still pissed off” he cackled and took a step away from you, “how could he even thought about saying that out loud?”

“Dear, it’s alright…”

“No! No it’s not! He called you una puttana! Nessuno chiamerà mia moglie così!” Santino shouted and you just took a deep breath before reaching out for his hand and pulling him closer again.

“Santino…” you murmured his name under your breath as he sprawled out his hand on your thighs.

“You, principessa” he said with this dark chuckle, as you felt felt a pair of wet lips nudge against your left lobe, with the warmth of a pink tongue tracing its contours… Making you lose all the control you had, “you belong to me.”

Santino has turned your head and was literally leaving a trail of wet saliva on your cheek as he hungrily devoured your lips, smearing that deep red lipstick all over your mouth as he turned your head towards his. You felt your cunt clench when he managed to unbutton your lavender blazer and insert a hand inside of it, revealing that you had no bra underneath as he freely tweaked a nipple that was growing hard against the hard fabric of your light violet blouse with his thumb and index finger.

Moaning inside his mouth, you managed to free your torso from his other hand affixed to your shoulder as you violently tugged at that navy blue tie. Pulling at the necktie, you managed to tighten it and almost choke him, as he violently yanked his head away from yours, separating his lips from your red-smeared mouth.

“Show me who the boss is, Santino” you growled at him as he flashed that mobster type evil grin at you…

Only for him to snake his free hand up your hair to tug at your perfectly made bun, destroying your hairstyle as he tangled his fingers around your locks… Managing to pull your head back he hovered his lips dangerously over yours, his mouth ghosting over your lips as he spoke, the tips brushing seductively as he sent vibrations down your body.

“I’ll show you who’s the boss” he said in that deep baritone Italian accent that shook you to the core.

He suddenly flipped you around and shoved you on the mahogany table, pressing your stomach flat on the surface. You hear the unbuckling of a belt as you heard your heart thumping in your ears as he violently kicked your shoes apart – wedging those expensive Loubotins from each other as he pressed that throbbing erection at your now exposed black-satin panties that came into contact with his slender fingers as he began to massage the spot where your clit should be issuing this long haunting moan from you as you closed your eyes.

“And all this time you claimed you were disgusted of me” he growled as you grit your teeth upon his mischievous digits slowly tracing the wetness of your slit, only to halfway part your panties aside - allowing him to brush the pad of his fingers on your moist cunt, “It seems like you love me doing disgusting things to you… no?”

You gritted your teeth as you felt his other hand push you flatter on the desk, as you felt his weight rest over you, “Just fuck me, darling” you gasped.

You felt your entire body shudder as he roughly nudged the head of his cock against your folds with his two fingers parting the entrance of your cunt, allowing him to slowly enter you as you found yourself struggling violently against him. But the more you thrashed your ass against his hand, the more you gritted your teeth and dug your nails, almost making marks in the expensive desk, the more he slowly eased himself into you, the wetter and aroused you become, squabbling under him as he eased his nerves and focused on fucking you.

As his every move and every inch pushed into you heightened your senses, and reminded you forcefully of the girth that he has and how much his length managed to stretched your aching pussy.

And mind you, Santino is very endowed than most men. And you knew this personally.

“C-cazzo” he hissed as he fought your retaliations, the way you tried to pull him out with jerking your hips, only for his strong hands to push you back down and his nails to dig into your hips as he slowly entered you with your slickness against his making this wet sound every time you moved against him, “Baby you’re so tight…”

You could only answer with a moan when he finally sheathed his entire length within you, causing you to heighten the loudness of your moan the moment the head of his cock hit your entrance.

And then stillness.

The only sound you can hear was the pace of your breathing and the way he panted in rhyme with the beating of his heart and that was when you began to feel his cock throbbing against your walls…

“Ohhhh!”

You began to struggle against him as he held you still by the hips, weighing down your thrashing as he rutted inside of you, the hardness of his cock causing your walls to clench around it again, eliciting this breathless moan that escaped both of your lungs as you both began to lose control…

“Fuck!” Santino growled as he began to pull out in a swift mode, only to slam back forcefully into you, causing you to wince and grit your teeth with every quick movement that involved his naked thighs slamming against your ass, causing your cheeks to bounce against his skin.

“C-cazzo” His voice suddenly sounded so melodious, strained by his anticipation, and fogged up by sex, “You… feel… so… fucking… good, principessa…” he iterated against your moans with each word accentuated by his thrusts, as he pushed his hips repeatedly against your ass, thrusting that bulging cock inside your swollen folds repeatedly as if there was no tomorrow.

In fact, if any of those newly-gained contacts that were still roaming the halls of the mansion dared to peek between the almost-closed doors of the living room, the sight they would see would be two pairs of feet pressed against the edge of a table with both hips attached to another, grinding against each other, with a hand snaked around a waist… with the string of underwear pulled down and wrapped around a slender thigh whose expensive pencil cut skirt was bunched up the waist.

And that would be enough of reason for Santino to shoot them causing another war between most of the mob families in the country.

Not to mention the mahogany room table that was beginning to shake in unison with your movements.

And with this thought, you began to shudder.

It didn’t help how your panties weren’t fully parted, with a bit of fabric snug against your folds, with your clitoral hood covered by the laced edge, biting through the skin and heightening your sexual sensations with every movement of Santino’s hips…

And to fan the flame he noticed this specific detail, as he deviously wet his finger and slowly lowered it in between your legs rubbing your clit furiously, with the textured fabric brushing hard against your bundle of nerves.

“FUCK!” You cry out as you felt your inner thighs quiver, “S-Santi… I’m gonna come!”

It wasn’t long till Santino let out this guttural groan as you closed your eyes and opened your mouth - a soundless cry escaping your lips as your juices squirted from your cunt, drenching your black underwear and staining the man’s fingers pressed against your clit.

Overcome by this sensation of your cunt clenching and tightening around his throbbing cock Santino gave one sharp shove that completely pressed your bare thighs against the edge of the desk, the wood almost biting into your smooth skin as he released himself inside of you his juices mixing with your own arousal as he filled you up to the brim with his climax.

You both were stuck in that position for a while your husband’s body draped against yours, as your helpless twitching legs was covered by his own, his cock still throbbing within you, as you milked him of his juices, robbing him of a climax he’d been dreaming of ever since he watched you walked into the meeting.

Santino was the first to retract himself from you, the sensation of him pulling that half-erect cock from your swollen folds almost giving you another orgasm as he found the power to sit down on an ignored chair as he cleaned himself up.

You then found whatever was left of the strength in your legs to move away from the table and walk over to him, as he gestured for you to come over and sit in his lap.

“I’ll stain your pants…” you mumbled out, but he just smiled and scooped you into his embrace and you sat down in his lap, pressing your body closer to his, resting your face in the crook of his neck.

“I don’t care… I love you, principessa” his hand gently caressed your cheek.

“I love you too, Santino.”

180 notes · View notes

queen-scribbles · 4 years ago

Text

Shepherd’s Honor

This oneshot brought to you by the mental image of Trouble carrying Trick piggyback that wouldn’t go away. :D Not that I tried all that hard.

----

Patrolling Haven was boring. Usually. Trick couldn’t say she cared much for how today chose to make itself an exception to that rule.

Namely the sharp, familiar pain that spiked through her right shin. It had her bracing one hand against a nearby wall for support even as her gaze tipped skyward.

Trouble must have heard her harsh breath in, because he stopped and swung around to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Trick said, not finding what she’d expected in her scan of the pale blue sky. She pushed away from the wall and fell in step next to him again, but only made it a few paces before a follow-up ache cramped her leg and made her flinch. “Okay, maybe something...”

Trouble shot her a look caught somewhere between confused and concerned. “What?”

“Well, first off, it’s gonna storm later,” she replied, leaning against his shoulder for support as she tried to shake out the cramping muscles.

That made him frown up at the cloudless sky. “How can you tell?”

“I’m magic,” Trick deadpanned, cautiously setting weight back on that leg.

Trouble snorted. “Shit, I know that. Seriously, Trick, how can you tell? An’ are you alright?”

“Yes, to the second,” she assured him when her leg held weight, “and short answer for the first is I broke my leg real bad when I was younger an’ now it aches when rain’s comin’.”

His nose wrinkled. “That’s... bad. But also kinda cool.”

She laughed. “Tell me about it; all in lookin’ for the silver lining. I don’t like that my leg hurts, but it really comes in handy to have a warning about that kinda thing when you’re debatin’ if you should move on from a town or stay put one more night.”

“I’ll bet.” He cocked his head. “You okay to keep going?”

Trick nodded. “Kinda hafta be, don’t I? We’re only halfway done.”

Trouble rolled his eyes. “Like I’d make you keep walkin’ on that leg if it was hurtin’ you that bad.”

“Sweet of you,” Trick laughed, flipping her braid back over her shoulder. “But it’s fine for now. I’ll let you know if that changes.”

He grinned and nudged her shoulder. “Promise?”

“Shepherd’s honor,” she grinned back. “I promise.”

They made it another quarter of the way before it changed. Not coincidentally, that was when the first dark storm clouds appeared on the horizon. Trouble noticed those two things in the opposite order Trick did; saw the clouds and turned to look at her.

She was limping, she knew, just noticeably, and flashed a sheepish smile. “It doesn’t hurt. Not that bad. Only thing that might be a problem is stairs.” The words had barely left her mouth when they reached the first (very long) flight of stairs back down to Ashtown and the Shepherd compound. “This just isn’t my day, is it?” she muttered wryly, and kicked a pebble off the top step.

Trouble scratched the back of his neck. “Want me to carry you?”

“What, like piggyback?” Trick snarked, touched by the offer but unsure how well it would work.

He shrugged. “’Less you wanna bang your head against the wall every few steps, that’s prob’ly the best way, dontcha think?”

“Yeah, but...”

He winked at her. “C’mon, Trick, you can’t be that heavy.”

Not for you, at least, she thought dryly. “It’s not that! I just know how fast carryin’ weight--any weight--can tire you out on stairs.”

Another shrug. “Better that than makin’ you walk on it.” Trouble grinned. “I’m not gonna drop you.”

Trick laughed. “Promise?”

His grin widened. “Shepherd’s honor.”

She only hesitated a couple seconds more. “Oh, fine.” It would be better than fumbling down on her own, no matter the loss of dignity. And they were pretty close in height, it was easy enough to wrap her arms around his neck and boost herself up. Trouble jokingly staggered sideways as he settled his grip under her legs.

“Muti,” Trick growled through a laugh as she freed one arm to punch his shoulder.

“Just teasin’,” Trouble promised with another grin.

“I know,” she said, resting her chin atop his head. His hair smelled like sun and charch and she smiled at the familiarity. “I’m good when you are.”

“Right.” He shifted ever so slightly so his hands were closer to the backs of her knees, and started down the steps.

It was trickier than either anticipated to keep their balance, but they managed to get to the bottom without killing themselves. There were two or three more similar flights to go, but Trick insisted on walking in between so Trouble could have a break. “It doesn’t hurt that much,” she promised. “More like a really strong cramp than anything.”

“You say that like it’s any better than your leg actually hurtin’.” he muttered.

“Trust me, it is,” she sighed, running one hand along her braid. I know from experience.

Trouble kicked a pebble, and they watched it skitter ahead of them. When they caught up to it, Trick kicked it further. This time it veered sideways when it ricocheted from the edge of a cobblestone and out of reach.

“So, how exactly didja break your leg so bad it helps you predict the weather?” he asked when they reached the next flight of stairs, longer and narrower and curving left.

Trick laughed as she hoisted herself up on his back again. “Oh, it was very exciting. I fell off a ladder.”

Trouble barked a disbelieving laugh of his own. “Really? That’s it?”

“Well, I may have been runnin’ from some people...” she allowed, tightening her grip when he started to turn and look at her. “Trouble, watch where you’re goin’.”

“Right, right.” He hesitated a beat. “Who were you runnin’ from?”

“You want the long version?” Trick chuckled. Even that wasn’t a terribly exciting story, in her opinion, but he was carrying her down steps without a word of complaint. She’d spin him any damn tale about herself he wanted.

“Sure, why not?” Trouble grunted, shifting his grip. “If you don’t mind, anyway.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” she promised, wriggling higher when she realized she was sort of strangling him in her current position. “So, there’s this merchant. Decided he wanted extra muscle for the trip from Capra to this town out near Lindell, which makes sense. He was offering good money and I needed work, so I signed up. It’s a pretty long trip, we had to scare off a couple groups of bandit, actually kill some mean-spirited critters, so I more than earned my lyss this time ‘round.”

“And?” Trouble prompted when she paused.

Trick snorted a laugh through her nose and rested her chin atop his head again. “And the kisich tried to weasel outta payin’ me. Dunno if he was just a skinflint or had something against Diminished or whatever, but when I stood my ground instead of cavin’ like he expected, his men went to force the issue and we had a... uh, scuffle.” She chuckled. “Got the mother of all beautiful black eyes from that scrap. Anyway, partway in, one gets the bright idea to taunt me with the coin purse holdin’ my pay. Guess he thought it would rile me up so I didn’t think straight. He forgot how hard I am to rile. And how quick I can be.” She grinned, her fingers digging into Trouble’s collar. “Punched him in the nose and took off with my money when he dropped it.”

Trouble snorted. “Lemme guess, they came after you.”

“Like yiwari after a rabbit,” Trick confirmed, sliding off his back as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “But I had a really good head start.” Her leg cramped and she glanced up at the much closer storm clouds. “And I made it even bigger ‘cause the outskirts of the town had the houses all built close together, y’know, where you can jump pretty easy roof to roof?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“There was a ladder to the roof every so many houses, so I went up the first one I found and zigzagged my way along the outskirts, jumpin’ alleys an’ hidin’ a couple times ‘til I lost ‘em.”

“Good thing you didn’t fall,” Trouble commented

“Oh, very good,” Another of those silver linings. Trick agreed wryly, scanning the side streets they passed for anything off. It seemed all clear. “Would not have been pretty.”

“Why didn’t ya just tell somebody that kisich was tryin’ to cheat ya?”

She snorted. “Maybe I woulda if I weren’t so obviously Diminished.” She watched his gaze flick to her hair, then back to the street. “They had an.... unlovey reputation regarding how they treated my kind.”

“Oh.” Trouble cracked his knuckles. “I’da kicked their asses. The merchant’s men, I mean.”

“I know,” Trick said with a smile, bumping her shoulder to his(harder than she’d meant to, her limp was getting worse). “If I’d had you backin’ me, I mighta gone for that myself. As it was, I didn’t really wanna fight them. Not there. Just wanted my money. An’ I got that.”

This last stretch of road was a short one, and they reached the final flight of stairs much more quickly than the previous ones. The clouds were actually starting to dim the sun as Trick climbed up on Trouble’s back again, and she hoped the approaching storm held off long enough for them to reach the compound.

“So where this ladder you fell off figure in?” Trouble prompted as he started down the steps.

“Right.” Trick pulled her attention off the sky and back to her story. “Getting down. I waited a good... half hour in my last hidin’ spot to make sure they were gone. The sun was startin’ to set when I finally felt safe comin’ out; the shadows kept me from seeing the, uh, condition of the closest ladder. The wood was all dry-rotted, fourth or fifth rung down broke the second I put weight on it. I fell maybe fifteen feet? Somethin’ like that.”

Trouble gave a low whistle. “Ouch.”

“Tell me about it, I’m lucky my leg’s the only thing I broke. But it was bad enough to more than make up for being the only damage--bone ripped through the skin and everything.”

“What didja do?” he asked, boosting her higher as she started to slide.

“Limped--well, hobbled is prob’ly better--around til I found a healer. Fortunately didn’t take too long,” she shrugged. “Hadn’t scrapped together enough know-how to fix somethin’ that bad for myself yet.” She wiggled her finger significantly and snorted. “Barely had twenty lyss to my name after payin’ the man. And even with his help, it still scarred real nasty. ‘Bout this long.” She let go with one hand to hold thumb and index finger four or five inches apart in demonstration. “An’ now I have a surefire way of tellin’ when it’s gonna” --a fat, wet droplet hit the back of her neck and made her flinch--”rain.”

Trouble swore as they reached the bottom of the steps and he let her down. “Was hopin’ we’d make it back ‘fore that got here,” he admitted as rain freckled both their shirts.

“You and me both,” Trick said wryly. She grabbed his wrist. The compound was in view down the the far end of the street. “C’mon, if we hurry, maybe we can at least avoid getting completely drenched.”

He laughed and let her tug him into motion, but was nice enough to not outpace her when her limp slowed her down. Which meant they both got drenched when the skies opened up just before they made it through the Shepherd compound gates.

Trouble swore again, but he was grinning when they ducked under the cover of the entrance and he shook water from his hair like a dog.

“Sorry,” Trick said through a laugh, only slightly sheepish, and squeezed water from her braid. “But thanks for the help. And stickin’ with me.”

“Don’t mention it,” he winked, thumping her on the back with one hand while he raked hair out of his eyes with the other. “It’s what you do for friends.”

“Still.” She lightly punched his shoulder. “I appreciate it. And I appreciated even more that you didn’t drop me.”

“Hey, I promised, didn’t I?” Trouble said with a laugh. “Shepherd’s honor an’ all.”

“And I’ve encountered enough people who didn’t keep their word to make me appreciate when someone does.” Trick glanced toward the courtyard, rain now falling in sheets. “You know we still have to make it across that to get to our rooms, right?”

Trouble’s grin widened. “Need another ride?”

Trick’s leg twinged even as thunder rumbled and she snorted a laugh. “Wouldn’t turn it down.”

““Alright, then.”

Neither of them cared if anyone saw their pell-mell run through the downpour for the dormitory wing of the compound, Trick’s arms locked around Trouble’s neck and both laughing the whole way. Trouble kicked the door shut behind them and Trick tightened her grip in a backwards sort-of hug before sliding off.

“Thanks, Trouble,” she grinned, bumping her shoulder to his.

“Welcome, Trick,” he returned, also grinning as he returned the shoulder bump before they headed for their rooms to dry off.

Trick found herself smiling as she stripped off her wet clothes--and not just because her gun had escaped getting wet. While her leg flaring up and then getting rained on wouldn’t have been her first choice for how to break the monotony of patrol, at least handling it with a friend--especially one strong enough to carry her--had kept it from being entirely awful.

Honestly, she had to admit as she dried off and reached for fresh clothes, it had almost (almost) been fun.

#queens fic #shepherds of haven #elyana trick #trouble alder #shoh #not really shippy bc neither of these goofballs has started falling yet #(not that they'll REALIZE when they start falling #she's at least as oblivious as him)

45 notes · View notes