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jawabear · 4 years ago

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1 of 10 (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Not my GIF (look at this man...)

A/N: so here’s that Bucky fic I’ve been talking about. This took me too long to write but I like it? I’m absolutely loving Falcon and The Winter Soldier! I’ve mentioned this before but Bucky Barnes is my all time favourite fictional character. This is set before the events of episode one but maybe like a week or so before. I hope you enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, tfatws spoilers, Bucky being awkward, nightmares, therapy, Bucky isn’t as smooth as he was in the 40s but he’s still cute

Summary: Bucky has ten contacts in his phone. One of which belongs the the girl he feels he has been searching for for 106 long years.

The times in which he found himself now were more than confusing. But that was the best way Bucky could think to describe them. For him though it seemed a lot worse than for others. For others, they had a gap of five years missing. For Bucky, he had far more than that.

From 1943 to 2023 there was a lot missing. He remembered it however. He remembered everything. The good, the bad, and the horrifying. What was meant by missing was that it wasn’t him who was living. He had missed out on living between those years. He had missed out on everything. And he knew, like the billions of others, he would never get those years back.

But now he was a civilian. Working to make amends from his past after being given a pardon. However, settling into his new easy life was proving far from that. It had been a few months now since the whole ordeal with saving the blipped half of humanity, Bucky included, and it had been a few months now since Steve went back in time and started a new life leaving him and Sam behind.

Sam. Right.

Sam was an avenger. More so than Bucky could ever be. So he was off doing his avenging work while Steve’s shield gathered dust in a wardrobe somewhere he was sure. Sam didn’t have it in him to take up the mantle of Captain America. He felt the shield belonged to someone else. It was Steve’s. It only ever could be.

More often than perhaps Bucky would like, he would get texts from Sam. Asking him how he was and telling him about missions he was going on. Bucky never replied. He didn’t know how to half the time and he didn’t want to.

He didn’t know how he was. He didn’t know if he was okay. He was forced to go see a therapist but all he did was lie to her.

“Have you had any nightmares recently?” She would ask him.

Bucky would think back to the night before their meeting and all the others as well. Each night he’d have to be faced with the horrors of his past. Every mission he carried out. Every person he carelessly killed.

“No” he would answer. And it wasn’t like he was wrong in his answer. The things he saw in his sleep were not nightmares they were memories. The nightmarish horrors he was were his reality, so when he said no in response to her question, he found it difficult to be accused of lying.

There were few things he could agree with her about. But the one thing he could see eye to eye with her about was the fact he was alone.

Sure, he had Sam. But only when Bucky wanted to acknowledge him which had not been often as of recently. And as his therapist so kindly pointed out he only had ten contacts on his phone. But in his defence, he still wasn’t used to the whole world of mobile communications and internet. So his phone was basically redundant to him. His mind was still in the 1940s where you’d find a date, what would now be classed as, the old fashioned way. By looking in person and talking. Not just texting or swiping left or right on an app.

Granted, Bucky did try his hand in online dating but it was far too much for him. It wasn’t only hard for him to figure out but also he saw too much of people he didn’t even know. The openness of the internet was something that was mind boggling to him. So that was thrown out of the window pretty quickly.

But what his therapist had failed to note was one name in his contacts. The name of his neighbour and quite possibly the one he wanted to end his loneliness with.

Back in his time, when he didn’t just have the looks of someone in their 20s, Bucky was in fact quite popular and good with the ladies. But the ladies, he found, of this new age were completely different to the ones of his time. Not that there was a problem, he just knew that he couldn’t used the same moves now as what he could back then.

He met (Y/N), his neighbour, as he was first moving in. After coming back, loosing Steve and getting a pardon, Bucky thought it be best to try and start a new. He did that by moving back to his old home of Brooklyn. His old apartment was obviously gone and with little money to his name he couldn’t afford the one that replaced it. It was far to big for him anyway. But he managed to find a smaller more affordable one and he much preferred it. If not only for the quieter location then the others in the building too.

(Y/N) was the first person he spoke too when back in Brooklyn. She was sweet and kind when introducing herself. She offered to help him move in but he really didn’t have that much stuff to use in making his new apartment more homely. And he had no food either. So (Y/N) did the neighbourly thing and invited him in for some food. A meal of sorts although she didn’t have much food either at the time. Even so, it was nice for him to be in company for once. And it was such warm company. They didn’t speak about much but he learnt a few things about her.

And now, on most Thursday evenings, he’ll find himself with her in her apartment eating a meal, sometimes she’ll cook, sometimes they’ll order take out, but he enjoys it regardless.

It was clear from the offset that she knew who he was. He frantically explained to her that he wasn’t what he used to be anymore and explained the terms of his pardon and how he’s making amends. But he needn’t have waste his breath on it. She didn’t seem to care about it. About who he used to be. She told him that she doesn’t live in peoples pasts and that she wanted to get to know him for who he is, not who he was. Those words meant a great deal to him. And from that moment on he had fallen for her.

Bucky sighed as he dragged himself up the stairs to his floor. He desperately wished there was some way of getting out of these therapy sessions. But he was tied to them. He couldn’t stop going to them even though he wanted too. But there, it wasn’t really like he had anything better to do. Nothing but either sitting at home in silence or walking around busy streets constantly looking over his shoulder. Those were his only other options.

As he walked to his apparent at the end of the hallway (Y/N)’s door opened and she walked out dressed for the outdoors, it was getting cold so it was smart of her to be wearing a warm coat. “(Y/N)” he called gently to her. She lifted her head after locking her door and gave him a warm smile.

“Hi James” She said, she always called him James rather than Bucky. He didn’t know why but he didn’t exactly mind. “How was your session today?” She had memorised the times at which he went to his therapy sessions. She probably knew he schedule better than he did.

Bucky shrugged “the usual” he told her making her laugh a little.

“That bad huh?”

“I guess” he said scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, I’m heading to the store to get some food if you wanted to talk on the way? Don’t feel you have to”

“No, that sounds good” he tried to smile but it was a little awkward, but she didn’t seem to say anything and just motioned her head for him to follow.

The shop wasn’t too far away so it was a quick walk. Bucky wasn’t the talkative type, not really anyway. Especially not to someone he didn’t like. And Dr Raynor was someone who he didn’t like. He was sure that deep down she was a lovely person but he didn’t like the fact she was insistent in getting him to admit his feelings. Although that was her job.

It wasn’t long until they arrived at the store “so what happened?” (Y/N) asked as she picked up a basket.

“Just the usual...she asked me if I had a nightmare-“

“Did you?” Bucky didn’t answer and just looked away from her. “James, you know that it’s her job to help you. And it’s in your best interest to let her”

“I know...but at the same time...I don’t see the point. These things are mandatory. So if I don’t want to go then I don’t see it being helpful”

“I can understand that” her eyes flicking between two boxes of cereal as she inwardly decried in which one to get, but her indecisive nature got the better of her so she opted to get both. Her indecisiveness, Bucky thought, was incredibly cute. It linked in with her kindness, on their Thursday evening meals together it takes ages just to decide what to have. “But still,” she continued, Bucky following her like a lost puppy “like you said, it’s mandatory. And there are people who would love to be in your position. Getting therapy I mean. So you should at least make the most of it while you can”

“I mean...yeah. I guess. But...I don’t know I just...well it’s easier to talk to someone like you then it is to talk to her” (Y/N) smiled at little at this as she finished putting on the last few items before making her way to the till.

Neither of them said much else. Expect for (Y/N) making light conversation with the cashier as she paid although both (Y/N) and Bucky knew that the cashier really didn’t want to be there. Luckily it didn’t take long for (Y/N) to bag her items and pay for them before they were both leaving the store.

It had gotten colder outside then when they left originally. (Y/N) shivered and pulled her coat around her a little more before they both began walking back to their apartment building.

“So what is it about me that makes you find it easier to talk?” She asked, she brushed her hair from her face as a sudden gust of wind blew it out of place when she turned to look at him.

“Well...” he muttered shoving his hands into his pockets “for one, you don’t sit there with a passive aggressive notebook ready to write shit about me” this made her laugh a little, she always found it funny when he’d talk about this notebook Dr Raynor had. She didn’t really know why he hated it so much, and she knew she shouldn’t have found it funny but he never stopped her from laughing about it, in fact often times he would join in thereby encouraging her.

“Yes, that is something better I guess. Although, I’m sure I could find a notebook if you wanted” she teased.

“Oh god. Please don’t” He said holding back a smile.

“Anything else?” She asked him.

Bucky thought for a moment. There were many things about her that made it easier for him to talk to her, but he couldn’t list them all. For one, that would be embarrassing, and two he didn’t think he’d have the breath to do it. “Well-“

He was cut off when he saw (Y/N)’s smile fall and her pace began to slow right down to a stop. Bucky stopped and looked at her “everything okay?” He asked her, his voice full of concern.

She turned sharply to the side so she was facing the road “y-yeah..” she stuttered nervously “just...my ex is walking this way and I really don’t want him to see me”

Bucky felt a strange feeling inside him. He didn’t even know she had been in a relationship. It must’ve been a recent thing right? Unless it was a really bad break up in the past, or this guy had done something to her to prompt her being so on edge. Bucky turned to try and scope out this guy but he didn’t have a clue what he was looking for. So he reached over to her and pulled up her hood on her hoodie that she wore under her coat and pulled her into his side so that her face was hidden from view.

“Tell me when he’s gone” Bucky muttered to her. She nodded her head and let him walk her along the path, she kept her eye on the path ahead as best she could while still covering her face. But she was now more focused on two things, his arm around her and his wonderful smell. Never did she think she’d ever get this close to him. She never thought he’d let her, but here she was attached to his side with his arm wrapped around her, holding her protectively against him.

And his smell. It was just as comforting as she dreamed it would be. A mix of his cologne and what she could only describe as Him. All she wanted to do now was to just melt into his strong and warm embrace and just stay there forever.

In all her daydreaming she didn’t notice that her ex had long since walked by and they had reached the entrance to their apartment building and she didn’t tell him he could let go or that it was safe for her to walk properly.

Bucky came to a stop and slowly slipped his arm from her “I mean...I take it he’s gone now right?” He said a little nervously. (Y/N) stood up straight and pushed the hood from her head and nodded quickly, her cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“Yeah. Yes, right. Sorry. Yes. He’s gone. I um...I just wanted to make sure he didn’t suddenly turn around you know? That’s all” she said in an unconvincing tone. But Bucky himself was too flustered to actually care that she was flustered as well.

“Of course, that’s smart. Well we made it back” he said stepping up to the door and pushing it open for her. She nodded and thank you and quickly hopped inside the building, Bucky following after her.

The walk up the stairs was an awkward silence. They felt like teenagers after their first ever date. Who says something first? What do they even say? Luckily for them, this wasn’t a first date, and they weren’t teenagers. They were fully grown, mature adults. But that doesn’t mean adults can’t get flustered in the presence of their crush...right?

After what felt like hours, but was more like five painstaking minuets, they finally got to their floor and walked down the hall, both briefly forgetting that they lived right next to each other.

(Y/N) stopped at her door and placed her bag of food on the floor to fish out her keys from her pocket. “Uh...you want to come in?” She asked whilst fiddling around in her pocket to find the keys. “I know it’s not Thursday but we didn’t really talk as much as usual...” her voice seemed to trail off as she finally found her keys and put them in the key hole before unlocking the door. “You don’t have too..”

“I’d...like to...” he said in a soft voice with a gentle smile to try and put her at ease even though he too was freaking out inside. She smiled back and picked up her bag before walking inside her apartment, he did too.

They both made their way into her small kitchen and he made himself at home by sitting in his usual seat at her white kitchen table and she began to unpack the shopping “Do you want me to help?” He asked her as he went to stand up but she waved off his offer.

“No no, it’s fine. There’s only a few bits anyway” she told him as she began to pack each item away in its rightful place.

“So uh...” Bucky began quietly as he scraped his metal finger again the wood table. “This ex of yours...what’s the story there?”

Bucky was a little cautious of his words. He didn’t want to say anything to hurt or offend her but at the same time he wanted to know what about the guy made her so on edge earlier.

“Oh uh...” she muttered as she pulled two cups from her cupboard.

“You don’t need to tell me if you want want to. Sorry..”

“It’s fine” she assured him “nothing really happened I guess. It was just a bad break up. He didn’t really take it well and for a few weeks after that he just kept texting me and trying to call me. He came round to my place too to try and get me back. He never did know how to take no for an answer. But about a month ago he finally got the message and stopped all contact with me. Seeing him today...I was just worried that he’d try it all again”

“He sounds like a real asshole” Bucky said flatly making her laugh a little as she went about making some tea for the both of them. “But in his defence, if I lost a girl like you, I’d struggle with taking no for an answer as well”

(Y/N) let out a nervous laugh and almost dropped his tea cup from the shock of his comment but she was a little more used to his flirtatious nature that would sometimes make an appearance when they were in her apartment. After he told her about his boyish charms back in the 40s she noticed how he would often slip back into that era. It was cute to say the least.

She set down his tea in front of him and he flashed her a “thank you” smile before wrapping his fingers around it.

There was a brief silence in the room. She was greatly over thinking is earlier comment. But so was he. Maybe he shouldn’t have said it. He meant it though. But what if he had pushed the limit a little too far?

“What was the other reason?” She asked him, her finger nail scratching again the tea cup trying to avoid eye contact with him at all costs.

“Huh?” He questioned looking over the table to her.

“Earlier. You were going to give me another reason why I’m easier to talk to. What was it?”

Bucky’s muscles tensed as his fingers gripped the tea cup handle as he stared into the black tea she had made for him. “If I’m being honest...” he began slowly “I think...there are too many reasons why I find talking to you easier. But I guess one is that you don’t do it because you have to or it’s your job to. You do it out of kindness. And it’s...easier to talk to someone who’s listening because they want to. And yes, I get that Dr Raynor probably does want to help me but I also know that at the end of the day, it’s all for a pay check. But with you...you do it because you want to. Or at least...I think you want to”

“I do want to, James. I’ll always be around to ask if you’re okay. And to make you okay when you’re not. I care about you...”

“And...I care about you. Another reason I prefer talking to you is because...I like you...a lot. I just think you’re the most beautiful woman, and you have such a sweet and caring nature and a good heart that is wasted on me. But I can’t help but like you...” he couldn’t really believe he just said what he did. He wasn’t mean to tell her that. It was meant to stay a secret within him into the end of time. But there was a shift in atmosphere that just made it all slip out.

“You...you like me?” She asked, still not looking at him.

“Yeah...” he said. There was a little more confidence in his voice as he admitted his feelings towards her.

“I like you too..” she too held a little more confidence in her voice as she admitted her returned feelings. It felt...good. Especially since she knew he returned the feelings she had harboured for him since they met.

She stood abruptly and held her hand out to him. He looked at it and looked up at her again before taking her hand. She pulled him to his feet and a little close to her.

He smirked a little as he looked down at her “you want me to kiss you or something?” He said almost proudly.

“Yes..” she said “but first...I want to know something”

“What do you want to know?” He asked her. She squeezed his hand and dragged him out of her kitchen.

She lead him to her bedroom and noticed the worried expression on his face when he looked at her bed. This was what she wanted to know.

“You don’t have a bed in your apartment...” She told him quietly. (Y/N) turned her body so she was facing him completely, he cautiously lifted his hands to settle on her waist.

“I know...” he mumbled.

“Why?”

Bucky paused but he felt safe enough to give her an honest answer “I...I’m...scared. Of them”

“What is it about a bed that scares you?” She whispered, her fingers gently trailing down his cheeks. Bucky didn’t answer right away, for one he was to busy focusing of the beautiful touch of her hands, and for another, he didn’t really know the answer to her question. But he could take a guess.

“Because I...I don’t think I’ve slept in one since 1943. And I...after everything I’ve done...I don’t deserve to lie in such luxury...” his voice was quiet and barely audible, had it not been for the close proximity they were in, she probably wouldn’t have heard him.

“James...” she laid her forehead against his and he instinctively griped her waist a little tighter. The comfort and warmth she was bringing him was something he didn’t want to loose. She was someone he didn’t want to loose. He felt safer with no one but her. For once he actually felt...okay. But he felt he was holding her too tightly, but if he was she was wasn’t willing to tell him that.

“You know that you have no reason to be afraid. You are changing. You are becoming a good man. You do deserve to live in luxury, even if that starts with sleeping in a proper bed. Maybe it is scary for you...but...if you’ll allow me, I’ll help you face it”

“Please...” he whispered with a nod before pressing his lips to hers.

05/04/21

Taglist: @lunaserenade @phoenixhalliwell @slytherin4ever

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Sebastian Stan #tfatws #marvel #fluff #angst #fanfic

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

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Only Yours ~ JHS [M] [Request]

WORD COUNT: 3K

GENRE: Fluffy, smut, possessive Hoseok, fluffy ending,

PAIRING: Hoseok X Fem!Reader

A.N: Don't read if you're under the age of 18/19 depending on the law in your country/state! Love ya'll Hope this is okay for you doll

You stared out of the small window in your living room as you debated about going to work or not, Hoseok chuckled when he walked in to see you standing there. Pouting at the rain that seemed to be hammering down outside, it had done nothing but rain for the last two days. Luckily the roads seemed to be clear enough for everyone to drive on, no flood warnings were issued either so you didn't have to worry about not getting home. Hoseok knew how much you loved staying at home on rainy days, you would curl up on the sofa beside him and read a book or just watch TV. You loved listening to the sound of the rain hitting the windows and the roof of the house.

"You have to go out there sooner or later," He laughed as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your body kissing your shoulder softly, you sighed to yourself knowing he was right but that didn't mean you were wanted to go. Work was dragging you in over overtime while Hoseok had the week off from work. The first time in months he finally had some time off and you couldn't even stay at home with him. The rainy season was the best season to curl up next to someone you loved and yet you were being pulled further and further away from your loved one.

"What if I call in sick? Tell them I have chickenpox or the measles or something." You whined your mind filling with a random illness you could tell them you had to stop you from going into work. The common cold was too easy so you had to go with something like the chickenpox, someone contagious to those around you. Hoseok just began shaking his head as he pulled you towards the front door or you would never leave. It was like trying to get a child ready for school who really didn't want to go or trying to get Jungkook up in the mornings.

"You're only there for six hours, it'll fly by." He laughed softly as he watched your face fall at the mention of how long your shift was. It wasn't like you hated your job because you didn't, you adored your job but the one thing you hated about it was being away from Hoseok all of the time. If he wasn't at work you seemed to be at work and if you weren't at work he was either on tour or at the studios all day until late. But that was your life together and you wouldn't change it for anything else in the world, Hoseok was the love of your life and you were his.

"Go, I'll be here when you come home. A nice home-cooked meal and hot chocolate waiting for you." He promised as he wrapped your scarf around your neck and tightened it up so you would be warm enough to walk to the car. The thought of Hoseok cooking on the brand new oven was alarming, he hadn't used it yet but the last time he tried to cook in the old apartment he almost burnt it down.

"Don't burn the house down? We only just moved in and the neighbours already hate us enough," You told him as you remembered your landlord telling you both about the complaints he'd received from the tenants next door. Whenever the boys came around to see you or Hoseok it always ended up with them being loud, the joys of being friends with seven crackheads. All of them hyped up from their days at work or from a concert. It wasn't your fault that the neighbours were all old and moody all of the time,

"I'll give them something to complain about, we're not even loud." Hoseok chuckled as he bent down to give you a small kiss on the lips, you kissed him again...Then again trying to kiss him enough times so he would tell you to stay but it didn't work. He turned you around and pushed you out of the front door, standing in the door frame as he watched you pull out onto the road and head off.

As soon as you'd been gone long enough for Hoseok to know you wouldn't be coming back he went to make himself a hot drink and then head upstairs, he was going to be the nice boyfriend he always was and finish unpacking things for you. The two of you had been together for five years and this was your first big place together meaning there were boxes from the old apartment and your old home that needed unpacking.

"Where to start?" He hummed as he walked into the spare bedroom where all of the boxes were being stored, he grabbed your clothes boxes and headed back to the main room unpacking everything for you. He thought it might have been a nice surprise for you to come home to since both of you had been too busy to do most of the unpacking after moving in a week ago.

Hoseok had severely underestimated how much clothing you had as he finished unpacking the seventh and final box and took a couple of steps back away from the wardrobe. 90% of what was filling it was your clothes and he'd already unpacked all of his own.

"Damn babe how much-" Hoseok stopped speaking to himself when he found another box in the spare bedroom, it was duck taped tightly and had some love hearts drawn all over it. Smirking to himself he picked it up and carried it into the main bedroom to take a look at it. The two of you shared everything with one another so it wasn't as though he was doing something he shouldn't have been. He grabbed the pair of scissors from the bedside cabinet and slid the box open to reveal some folders and then more boxes.

"What have you been hiding Miss Y/l/n?" He chuckled to himself as he pulled one of the folders open to see a Yoongi poster inside of a plastic wallet, no big deal he knew you were a fan before you started dating but as he continued to flick through the folder it became more and more obvious that they were all pictures of Yoongi.

Next, he pulled out one of the smaller boxes to reveal every single Yoongi photo card that had been published with their albums, it must have taken you years and years to get every single one of only his cards. Then there was more items at the bottom of the box, every shooky item available in print. He knew he shouldn't have been growing jealous at the thought of someone other than him being your bias but he couldn't help it. Jealously was bubbling up inside of him at the thought of Yoongi being your bias, especially when he thought about how close you were to Hoseok as a friend. He knew that the two of you would never do anything to hurt him but the anger that was raging inside of him wouldn't let him see past the anger and the jealousy. The thought of you and Yoongi hanging out together and one day admitting to him that he was your bias hit Hoseok hard and he decided to pack the box up, leaving it on the box and waiting for you to come home from work.

"Hobi!" You cried out as you walked through the front door of your house, the warmth hitting you instantly as you shivered. The rain had started to turn to snow and you were freezing to the point where you could no longer feel your face. Hoseok had seen your car pull into the driveway so he headed up to the bedroom to wait for you, leaving the box in perfect view so you knew what was going to happen,

"Hobi?! I'm home..." You took off your layers of coats and scarfs and kicked off your shoes walking into the living room to expect to find Hoseok sitting there but he was nowhere to be seen, the lights were all off downstairs so you headed to the bedroom.

"Hoseok are you taking a nap?" You giggled pushing the door open but stopped giggling the moment you saw the box sitting there, covered in hearts and drawings you'd done.

"Hobi..." You whispered as you looked at the box but Hoseok wasn't in the room, at least not where you could see. He came up from behind you and pulled you back into his chest, arms wrapped around your waist.

"How was work?" He asked as he began to pull off the cardigan you were wearing, you looked at him out of the corner of your eye and bit down on your lip, you could sense that something was wrong with him. Normally you would come home to a nice conversation before he attacked you with kisses.

"It was okay...W-Where did you find-" He cut you off with a rough kiss on the lips and you smirked against his lips, you knew how possessive Hoseok seemed to get in the bedroom but you'd never meant for him to find that box. It wasn't even supposed to come with you in the move, you were supposed to leave it at home.

"You're mine, you know that right?" He smirked as he began kissing down your neck, his voice muffled by your neck as he kissed and sucked on the exposed skin. You hissed at him while nodding your head in answer to his question.

"I'm all yours Hobi," You confirmed as he continued to attack your neck in kisses, biting and sucking on every bit of skin he could sink his teeth into turning you into a whimpering mess.

"You're not allowed to hang around with him anymore, you're mine." He growled turning you around to look at him, you whimpered, even more, when you stared into his eyes to see they were clouded over. Lust filled eyes as he stared down at you, biting his lip as he pushed you down onto the bed. You watched him from the bed as he looked down at you, biting on his lip as he waited for you to start talking to him.

"He's just a friend," You whispered but he didn't care, he ripped the trousers you were wearing as he tried to get them off you as soon as possible. He was going to do anything and everything he could to make sure everyone knew that you belonged to him, that you were his and his alone.

"Mmm look at you," He hummed as he looked at your exposed core, he ran his fingers up and down your folds as he chuckled to himself the small touches making you whimper. Whenever you and Hoseok had sex it was like he was an entirely new person and you loved it, no one could ever imagine the type of person he would become,

"I'm the only one who makes you dripping wet like this, right angel?" He cooed as he continued to run his fingers through your folds, using his index finger to rub around your clit making you hiss out at the lack of contact he was giving to you.

"Only you," You told him as you bucked up to keep the connection between you,

"So needy and I haven't done anything to you yet," Chuckling darkly he kissed your neck once again, moving his hands away from your heat and unbuttoning the blouse you were wearing. Ripping it open leaving your black bra exposed to him,

"Take it all off, everything." He ordered as he sat down on the edge of the bed, it was now that you noticed he was dressed in nothing but his boxers. Palming himself through his trousers as he watched you get off the bed and slowly begin to strip out of the remaining clothes for him. Kicking them to the other side of the room as you got onto your knees and crawled towards him, running your hand up his thigh as you locked eyes with him.

"Nuh-uh, tonight is about you baby girl." He told you as he pulled you up from the floor and placed you back down onto the bed.

"Shall I bring Yoongi in? Make him watch you as I fuck you?" He smirked up at you as he kisses up your thighs, biting down on your skin softly,

"Maybe I should call him right as your cumming around my fingers and you can let him know who you belong to." Your head was in a whirlwind at all the things he was saying but you shook your head at him,

"Just fuck me," You begged him as you stared down into his eyes pleading with him with the look in your eyes,

"Look at you, moaning and begging for me like the good girl you are," He chuckled coldly as he watched you bucking against his touch. You were desperate for him to touch you even if it was just a small one,

"Please Hobi, need you." You knew how pathetic you probably sounded to him but you didn't care, all you wanted was his hands on your body. All over your body. He smirked looking at you as he used his thumb to circle your clit, pressing two fingers against your hole as he chuckled.

"Are you sure you need me? Tell me what you want me to do, exactly what you want me to do." He stared at you, kissing softly on each thigh as he got dangerously close to your core but never giving you the contact that you desired the most.

"E-Eat me out." You whimpered nervously as you locked eyes with him, you'd always been so nervous about receiving oral but tonight you were dying for it. You knew that when Hoseok was in a mood like this there was no holding back, he would be rough with you and within seconds of you asking his face was buried in your heat. Tongue gliding through your folds as he traced every curve he could delving into your entrance and moaning against you sending vibrations throughout your body.

Moans and whimpers left your body as you cried out his name, he smirked against ou as he felt you clench around his tongue.

"Hobi!" You whimpered running your hands into his hair as you pulled onto his hair pulling him closer to your core as you chased your high. Each lick of his tongue made you cry out louder and louder as our mouth fell open.

"Close! So fucking close!" You hissed out as he continued to assault your core, eating you out roughly,

"Cum for me baby," He mumbled into your core, pushing two fingers into you as he sucked and softly bit down on your clip. Your walls clenched around his fingers as your head rolled back against the bed. Legs shaking as you came around his fingers,

"Y-Yes! Hoseok!" You cried out as you came around him, tears welling up in your eyes as your high faded away quickly from you.

"Fucking love it when you tighten up like that princess...Do you want to do that around my cock? Huh?" He smirked as he kicked off his boxers, rubbing himself in front of you as your mouth watered at the thought of him being inside of you.

"You want me to fuck you full? Stretch you around it?" You nodded desperately as you reached out to touch him but he just rubbed the tip of his cock around your clit. Hissing as he felt you buck against him for more than the small contact he was giving to you.

"Just fuck me already," You hissed at him and he slammed into you making you yelp out and wrap your legs around his waist, he smirked at you as he held himself in place,

"You like that? Nice and rough?" He chuckled as he continued to thrust in and out of you roughly, hitting the right spot with every rough thrust.

"Fuck!" You moaned out as your back arched away from the mattress and you rolled your hand down your body to rub your clit for him. Mind spinning as the orgasm built up once again,

"H-Hobi-" You moans trailed off as you felt yourself getting closer and closer, the build-up getting more and more intense with each thrust of his cock. Your eyes widened as he continued to push into you, getting rougher each time.

"I know princess, let go." He looked into your eyes as he smirked wider at you, watching the way your eyes rolled back as you tried to focus on nothing but the pleasure he was giving to you.

"Fuck." You cried out as you rolled your hips up,

"So fucking pretty stretching around my cock huh? Are you sure I can't show Yoongi?" He leant down as he continued to slam into you, replacing your hand on your clit with his own as he continued to rub you in large rough circles,

"I want him to hear you cry out my name, 'cause you're fucking mine." He grunted as he continued to fuck into you,

"Hoseok!" You screamed out as he hit into the one place that made your eyes water and made your world spin, you went over the edge cumming around him as you screamed out his name. Nails dragging down his arms leaving marks as you clenched around him over again but Hoseok didn't stop. His rough thrusts continued until he came into you, moaning out as he fell down into your neck. Kissing your skin softly as you both panted heavily together.

"You know I didn't mean it right?" Hoseok asked after you'd been laying together in silence for a couple of seconds,

"Didn't mean what?" You mumbled turning to look up at him as you drew small invisible patterns into his skin,

"When I said you couldn't see Yoongi, y-you can do what you want I just-" You kisses his lips as you tried to set his mind at ease a little,

"I know baby, it's okay." You reassured him as you laid back down with your head on his chest just listening to his heart beating as he pulled you closer to him.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @rjsmochii @sw33tnight @bisexualmess007 @innersooya @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block

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peaceoutofthepieces · 3 years ago

Note

VDS 124 like if they’re just friends but also pinning and Lucas stealing Jens’s stuff

124. “Are you wearing my shirt?”

Sander was looking at him oddly. Lucas had learned long ago not to like any of Sander’s odd expressions. He braced himself, but all the older boy ended up saying was, “Nice shirt.” He was fairly nonchalant about it, too.

Too nonchalant.

Lucas blinked at him, then glanced down at himself in confusion. Then he froze. Then he thought, Oh fuck.

But he just said, “Uh, thanks?”

Sander raised his brows, but refrained from commenting further with a nod and pursed lips. Lucas let out a sigh of relief and tugged his jacket around himself, even though he’d been debating taking it off a minute ago. He was an absolute idiot. How had he even managed to do this?

No, it wasn’t that big of a deal. It was fine. No one would notice. He totally wouldn’t notice. And if anyone did, it wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t mean anything. Lucas didn’t care. He wouldn’t care. With the jacket, now, it was practically unnoticeable anyway.

Jens and Robbe plopped down across from them, and Jens frowned at Lucas almost immediately. “Are you wearing my shirt?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“What?”

“Is that my shirt?” Jens repeated, raising a brow at him.

Lucas innocently glanced down at himself. Again. “Nope, don’t think so.”

“It’s red,” Robbe pointed out. Lucas resisted the urge to glare at him.

“So?”

“You don’t wear red,” Jens said.

His face was turning red, that’s for sure. Why had he decided to lie? It didn’t matter. But he couldn’t very well turn back now, could he? Especially not when they were using such terrible, untrue logic. “I wear plenty of red.”

“Uh, when?” Sander asked.

Lucas glanced at him in betrayal. “I was wearing a red jumper yesterday!”

Jens shook his head. “That was pink.”

“It…was not. I have red things. Maybe you’ve just never seen me with this shirt. Maybe it’s a new shirt.”

“I’ve definitely seen it, ‘cause it’s mine. And it’s definitely not new.”

It wasn’t. It was old, and worn, and so soft, and Jens had been wearing it two days ago at Lucas’s house, looking as lovely as usual. Which totally explained why it still smelled like him. Lucas was a little bit in love with it. He swore, however, that he’d thought it was a coincidence. He hadn’t really thought about it at all. It was just a t-shirt. He’d just picked it up and put it on. He’d been running late! Besides, what did it matter? He couldn’t understand why the others cared.

Jens was eyeing him with a little too much intensity for someone who didn’t care, though.

Lucas willed the blush in his cheeks to stay down and decided playing it off was the best bet. “It’s just a shirt I picked up in my room. Do you want it back, or something?” He sat up straight and grabbed the edges of his jacket, mockingly prepared to take it off.

Jens snorted, smiling. “No, I’m not telling you off. It suits you.” He looked down at his food, and like Sander, appeared a little too nonchalant.

Lucas leaned back and couldn’t quite will his blush away.

He stole a handful of Sander’s fries when he noticed the boy’s smirk.

~^~

Considering they’d made it into such a big deal, it didn’t seem like a coincidence when more of Jens’s clothes seemed to magically appear around his room. He seemed to conveniently ‘forget’ a hoodie or jacket or shirt every time he was at Lucas’s. For the first week or so, Lucas avoided them like the plague and returned them as casually as he could, telling himself he was imagining the disappointment on Jens’s face each time a garment was simply handed back.

But it was inevitable. Lucas was in a rush and still have asleep; and Jens’s clothes were soft, and warm, and they smelled and felt like Jens. And Lucas did tend to lead towards a pinker shade of red, and so the change was nice, right? He was quite sure how he felt about it, but it was a nice change every now and then.

Not that he was doing it every now and then. He showed up to school that once, a week later, wearing Jens’s hoodie. Sander’s smirk at the gate was easily ignored in favour of Jens’s pleased smile. Lucas lived to please. He didn’t get it, really, but if Jens was happy, then it was fine. Anything was fine.

He wasn’t expecting Jens to start downright dressing Lucas in his clothes, tucking a jacket or coat around his shoulders at the first hint of a shiver or spit of rain. Even Robbe seemed to be growing greatly amused, and Lucas didn’t understand. He was beginning to think he was being made fun of, the butt of a joke he wasn’t privy to, but he didn’t think they would do that to him. Especially Jens. He hoped Jens wouldn’t do that to him. He was the one Jens was supposed to have inside jokes with.

He didn’t understand, and it was driving him crazy. Did Jens see the effect it had on him? How much he liked it? Why would he keep it up if he did? He was pretty sure Sander, at least, had figured it out. Which meant if Jens didn’t already know, it would likely be the reason Lucas gave himself away eventually. Especially if he kept blushing like a schoolgirl every time Jens tucked a collar up around his chin.

Because of course Lucas liked it. It was being wrapped in Jens’s embrace, all day. It was tucking his nose into the fabric and breathing and feeling like he was lying in Jens’s room. It was knowing what it looked like, especially when he received the subtle, jealous side-eyes from anyone who approached Jens. He wasn’t barbaric enough to call it the sign of ownership others may have thought, but, well.

It sort of was. He couldn’t explain what else it could be.

Which is why, when Jens tried to walk right past his hoodie and leave Lucas’s house in a t-shirt, into a downpour, Lucas found the courage to ask, “Why do you like me wearing your clothes?”

Jens halted just as he passed through the bedroom door, and turned back. “What?”

“Your clothes.” Lucas gestured at the hoodie hanging from his desk chair. “You keep leaving them so I’ll wear them, or straight-up give them to me when we’re out.”

Jens spread his arms out; Lucas thought he could see a spot of pink in his cheeks. “No I don’t.”

Lucas raised his brow. When Jens simply looked back at him, he said, “Okay. You should take your hoodie, then. It’s raining.”

“Right. Yeah.” Jens cleared his throat and wandered back into the room, snatching the hoodie up. Then he stood there, fiddling with it, as he alternated glances between it and Lucas. He let out a sigh, and blurted, “Fine, I like you in my clothes. Happy?”

Lucas froze. He hadn’t actually been prepared for Jens to say it outright. In fact, he’d expected to be laughed off at best and brushed off at worst. He didn’t really know what to do now. He dragged himself down to the end of his bed and sat up straight, looking up at Jens. “Uhm. More confused?”

Jens shrugged. His ears were definitely red now. “You think it’s weird.”

“If I thought it was weird, I wouldn’t have worn them,” Lucas pointed out.

Jens bit his lip.

Lucas licked his. “I just don’t know…why.”

“Red suits you. And you always wear more stylish stuff and, I don’t know. My clothes are bigger on you and you look all soft and…cute, or whatever.”

Lucas stared at him.

“Fuck,” Jens muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Cute?” Lucas repeated.

The blush had spread through Jens’s whole face. Lucas couldn’t compute it. “Cuddly,” Jens shrugged, glancing away.

“So…it’s not some kind of joke, or something. You actually like me wearing your clothes.”

“Well, I’d like it if you weren’t wearing any clothes, but mine are—“ Jens cut himself off, his expression scrunching up in horror.

Lucas decided he must have been dreaming. But he was sure, if that was the case, Jens would hold his usual confident ease, rather than looking like he wanted to run out the door. Lucas managed to choke out, “What?”

“That’s definitely weird. That was the weirdest—the worst thing I could have said. I didn’t say that. Can we pretend I didn’t say that?”

“No.” Lucas surprised himself with the conviction in that, but Jens outright flinched. Lucas held a hand out to him, scrambling to his feet. “No, I mean…we don’t have to…I can’t forget you said that,” he settled on. Then, “I don’t want to forget you said that.”

He cringed at how unclear he was being, but Jens’s expression had slackened out into a much better type of surprise. Jens took a shuffling step forward, hesitantly bumping his hand against Lucas’s. “I really don’t want to make this worse,” he said carefully, “so could you clarify what you mean by that?”

Could he? It was doubtful. He was bound to say something stupid. “I mean.” He faltered, and gave himself a moment to think by locking his fingers with Jens’s. “I mean, I’d really like it if you left all your clothes in my room. Not like, all the clothes from your wardrobe, I mean, all the clothes you’re wearing. Not as in these exact clothes that you’re wearing now. Just—all your clothes, at once. That’s not better.”

Jens’s eyes had gotten very wide, which made sense, because Lucas had not clarified anything and actually gone on the most embarrassing ramble of his life. And he’d come out to Kes in the most extended, convoluted way possible.

Then a smile broke over Jens’s face, and he was laughing. Breathless and beautiful and maybe not entirely at Lucas’s expense. Maybe in relief.

“That could be arranged,” Jens eventually said, still grinning as wide as his face would allow. He stepped further into Lucas’s space, passing the point that would break them toe-to-toe and instead slotting their feet together. “But if you actually do think it’s weird, you could always keep my shirt on. Since you really are comfortable with that.”

Definitely relief.

It extended to Lucas, who was the one to burst out laughing this time. He tipped forward into Jens to hide it, muffling the sound in his friend’s—more than a friend?—shoulder.

“You could have just told me you liked me, you know,” Lucas eventually said, thankfully sounding braver than he felt.

Jens slid his arms around Lucas’s waist. “I definitely couldn’t. This was easier.”

Lucas laughed again. “This was easier?”

“We’re here, aren’t we?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Let’s see if you’re still saying that when I carry out your wish.”

Lucas blushed, but pulled back to look at Jens and tried for teasing. This was still his best friend. Lucas had been crushing on him long enough to put a good front up over his nerves. “Maybe you should just try kissing me first.”

Jens still seemed surprised by the offer; then he was beaming. “Sounds like a good place to start.”

His clothes did look great strewn around Lucas’s room.

#van der stoffels #vds #i realised when i was done i don’t think this is exactly what you requested haha #and i think it might suck #but i hope it’s somewhat enjoyable!#prompts

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anyoneseenadam · 4 years ago

Text

Home: Chapter Six

azriel x reader (acotar)

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing, THIS PART HAS SMUT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED but it is very soft

word count: 3.2k

dress featured: x

a/n: this part was gonna be super fluffy and lovely but of course i cant do that so it’s quite angsty lol sorry. BUt Percabeth make an appearance and we love them so I think that evens it out :) I also apologise if there are any mistakes I wanted to get this out ASAP because I have exams coming up :( pls comment it genuinely makes my day i get so happy when people comment, anyway enjoy!

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Azriel wasn’t entirely sure he would ever get over ‘Captain America: The Winter Soldier’, or any other Marvel movies for that matter, having cried when Bucky was revealed, or when Pietro died making you practically piss yourself with laughter as you muttered something along the lines of “Just wait.”

When the sun began to rise you had turned the laptop off, pulling him in tightly as you pulled the thick duvet over you and proceeded to snore softly with your head pressed over his heart and your other hand reaching out and clutching your favourite soft toy. He thinks he maybe got three hours of sleep, but he laid with you the whole morning, addicted to the heat emitting from you and the way the whole room seemed to be resting as you slept, the breeze swaying the curtains matching that of your gentle breaths and the plants drooping as they too relaxed.

When you did wake, Azriel found his way between your legs, determined to wake you up properly. Your soft cries were like music to his ears, and he made you cum three times before you were pushing his shoulders away, shaking from over-stimulation, and climbing on top of him, sinking down slowly, letting yourself feel every inch. As he sat back, his hands resting on your waist to guide you when you became breathless, holding tightly and occasionally thrusting up into you when the pace became to slow for his taste. You reached a hand to his wings as his thumb found your clit, and you kissed sloppily as you searched for release.

Soon, you fell on top of him as he grunted, hips stalling as you whined into his open mouth. He slowly pulled out and wrapped his arms tightly around your middle, the two of you laying silently simply enjoying the others presence. You soon looked up at him and gave him a breathless smile, pecking his jaw, before swinging your legs over the side of the bed and grabbing a robe of the floor. You made your way to the record player and filled the room with the sound of the Bee Gee’s, Azriel closing his eyes and letting the foreign sounds consume him. You sat down at your vanity and started putting on your jewellery, all the movements practiced, and he cracked open an eye watching you string necklaces with crystals hanging from them around your neck. He laughed as you sang along to the song, flirty eyes catching his as you swayed from side to side.

“More than a woman…” you sang softly as you pulled lacy panties up your legs and rubbed fruity lotion into your legs and hands, waving your hands to dry them before pushing of numerous rings. He sat up in bed, watching you intently as you moved to your wardrobe and pulled out a pretty off-the-shoulder, white dress with frills and faint flowers decorating it. You dropped your robe and pulled on the dress, shaking your hair out and turning to walk over to him. The golden light from the window coated you and you look like you belonged in the Day Court as your skin was cast in the glow, it seemed to weave around you alike a halo and he was struck by how angelic you looked.

“I’m gonna go wash my face,” you said, pressing quick kiss to his lips and giggling sweetly when he tried to chase your mouth for more, pulling away and leaving the room, blowing a kiss in his direction.

He stood, a love-drunk smile on his face as he went about finding his boxers from the night before and pulling them on, grimacing at the tight fit, before he wandered to the drawer you had pulled them from, laughing when he found men’s joggers as well and pulling them on. When he turned to find a top he was instead greeted by a middle-aged man in running gear. He reached for truth-teller, moving into a fighting stance, his shadows swarming around him menacingly and silently begged that you would stay in the bathroom to avoid seeing any blood.

“At ease Azriel, I won’t hurt you.” The strange man said, not actually looking at him and instead typing furiously on his phone.

“How did you get in here?” Azriel asked gruffly, assessing the man to see if he had weapons.

The man waved a hand through the air dismissively, “You are not supposed to be here you know.”

“What do you mean?” He was still uncomfortable at the fact the man knew his name, and now he was insinuating that he knew that Azriel wasn’t from this world.

“Stupid Aphrodite and her hopeless ideals messing up the routes so you could meet (y/n). The fates won’t be happy if you don’t return soon, and even worse Persephone will lose it if she thinks her daughter has been dragged into any messy situations like this, so you boy, are going home, come on.” He beckoned to Azriel, but he didn’t budge.

“Who are you?” He demanded as the man rolled his eyes.

“Hermes, messenger God, now come on I don’t have all day.”

“What did you mean by the fates?”

Hermes sighed deeply, muttering something about a pay raise under his breath before he finally looked up at Azriel. “Some soulmates simply just aren’t meant to meet I’m afraid, why do you think we wrote so many tragedies. If a Greek is born lucky enough to have a soulmate they will likely be from another world, and that means they cannot be together. I know you think she is your mate, but she must stay here, she’s not even immortal it would be cruel. I told Aphrodite to not let you two meet and that it would just end in heart-break, but she didn’t listen, felt bad for the girl or something, but either way you need to leave now.”

Azriel opened his mouth to reply but couldn’t find the words, you really were his, his mate, but now he was being told that he couldn’t be with you. He tried to reply again but before he could you were floating back into the room, smiling widely when you saw Hermes.

“Hermes, long time no see. What calls you to my humble abode?” you asked, moving to Azriel’s side and laughing when he still didn’t put down his dagger, “It’s okay Az, Hermes is actually one of the nicer ones.”

Hermes laughed at the compliment, but sadness shone in his eyes as he looked upon you.

“You look happy,” he said, a regretful look suddenly over-coming his features, yet Azriel couldn’t feel any sympathy for the man that was going to hurt his mate.

“I am.” You said, gazing up at Azriel with soft eyes, and Hermes placed his buzzing phone in his back pocket.

“My child, it’s time for Azriel to leave,” he said softly, your head whipping around to look at him.

“What?” The sharpness of your tone surprised Azriel. He had grown used to your soft side that spoke to flowers and baked homemade bread, but now he was remembering the broken part of you that was part God and build walls up in seconds. He placed a hand on your lower back as the room suddenly shuddered under your power, all plants awakening.

“You two were never meant to meet, Aphrodite just wanted you to meet him after your fall, but she forgot that he would have to return, I’m so sorry.” Your eyes filled with tears as you tried to make sense of what was happening, snarling at the God.

“No but this has nothing to do with the Gods, it- he got here on his own, we met by chance,” You were shaking as you tried to explain, sadness and confusion battling anger, and Azriel thought he could hear his heart break.

“I’m sorry child, I have to take him back. He only got here because of Aphrodite.” You were shaking your head, tears flowing freely now, gripping his arm and Hermes approached.

“NO, no there must be another way, please don’t take him from me! I need him, I love him, please don’t do this!” Hermes, shockingly, also appeared to be close to tears as he rested his hand on Azriel’s shoulder, his body going numb as he was pulled from you, unable to fight back.

“(y/n), baby, I’m sorry, I’ll figure this out okay I promise. I’m not leaving you here.” He didn’t think he would ever feel this much pain again as he watched the woman he loved sob, trying desperately to hold onto him as he was pulled from her world, the image of her collapsing to her knees as he was wrenched from her grip becoming imprinted in his mind.

He was gone. He was gone and you were alone again.

The scuffed wooden floor below you was cool as you pressed your forehead against it, sobs racking your body. You pushed yourself up and sat against the wall, checking the time on the clock. 15 minutes. You would cry for 15 minutes and then you would get him back. To many times you have just accepted your fate, but you couldn’t this time, you and Azriel met for a reason there had to be something. You wouldn’t let the anger and fear swallow you again.

When 15 minutes had past you forced your self to stand, wiping your eyes with your hand before searching for tissues. When you had blown your nose, you found an old notebook and grabbed your pen. A list, a list would organise your thoughts, you could find a loophole something had to work. You wrote down every theory you had, every book you would have to look in and every person you had to ask, sniffling, and rubbing the tears from your eyes. When you were done you found the backup burner phone you kept for emergencies and found Annabeth’s number. She picked up on the third ring and you took in a shaking breath.

“I think I need your help.”

Hermes left Azriel on the outskirts of Velaris, strangely back in his Illyrian leathers, he had apologised again, true sadness shining in his eyes, but Azriel just growled as feeling returned to his limbs. Hermes looked as if he wanted to say something but decided not to and with that left.

As Azriel shot off the ground he was struck with a sharp pain in his chest, as if being apart from her was physically paining him. He flew over his home, the city he had grown to love but even the feeling of coming home couldn’t distract from the cold that was seeping into his bones. He would destroy the Gods themselves before he let them take you from him and he fought a snarl as he pictured the hell he would make them pay for making you cry.

He landed outside the town house but before he could even open the door the wind was knocked out of him as Cassian barrelled into him in what was either a really rough hug or a tackle, it was hard to tell with Cassian sometimes.

“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN IT’S BEEN WEEKS?!” he winced as Cassian yelled right in his ear, shoving him off him as the rest of his family, minus Amren, surrounded him. Feyre was next to hug him and he returned his High Lady’s embrace, when she pulled away he met Rhysand’s eyes, and he saw the sadness in Azriel’s, shocked as Azriel rarely let any emotion show on his face.

“C’mon lets go inside,” Rhys said, outstretching an arm for his wife. Mor, holding Nyx, followed them in and Cassian who was still glaring at Azriel grabbed his arm and tugged him in, grumbling under his breath about how Azriel hadn’t even sent a letter.

When they were all sat, including Amren who apparently just couldn’t be bothered to come greet him as she knew he was coming her way anyway, Feyre asked him what happened. His eyes instinctively found Elain where she sat huddled in the corner of an armchair, and as he took in her spectacular beauty, all he could think of was how no one compared to you. No one compared to your callused hands that had seen many fights and handled many weapons, or your scarred back that only proved how strong you truly were. No amount of beauty could ever compare to you when you had completely stolen his heart, it didn’t help that you were also the most beautiful woman he had ever met.

He paused, a small part of him wanting to keep you a secret as he feared Cassian’s flirting and the prospect of losing the woman he loved again, but as he looked upon where Cassian sat with nothing but worry for his brother in his eyes, Nesta perched next to him, back straight as usual but a hand in his brother’s, he realised he was being ridiculous. He rubbed his temples and took a deep breath, fiddling with his hands as he told his family everything.

Percy had forgotten how much he loved (y/n)’s cottage. It always smelt of cinnamon in winter and roses in summer and it usually had the second-best homemade goods her had ever eaten, their only flaw being the lack of blue food colouring. But he didn’t have time to dwell on how he had missed the house too much as Annabeth pulled him through the door and into (y/n)’s kitchen where she sat staring with the blank look on her face that Percy knew meant something had gone horribly wrong. She looked up when they entered and stood, practically falling into Annabeth’s arms, hugging her tightly before Percy tugged her into his own, a hand resting protectively on her head. She had always been like a little sister to him even though she was only a few months younger than him, and consistently beat him in training exercises. The first few months after they escaped Tartarus, he had brought her meals and held her when she sobbed and threw up due to nightmares, helping her through the trauma and trying not to throw up himself when Annabeth applied the ointment Will had given you to her back. When she told him of the fraught relationship she had with her father he decided that she needed someone who would be like family and had practically adopted her after they defeated Kronos, the seven, Nico and Will becoming the loving family she had always wanted.

When she pulled away, he nudged her to sit down as Annabeth started preparing chamomile tea for her in the hopes of relaxing her.

“What happened kiddo?” he asked softly, and she huffed a laugh at the nickname. He smiled when he remembered her reaction when he first said it.

“We’re literally the same age!” She threw her hands up as he laughed at her reaction.

“Doesn’t matter you’re technically younger than me.” He argued as she glared at him playfully before waving her hand, laughing when he was strung upside down by a thick vine encircling his ankle.

“Right that’s just unfair!” he laughed before adding “kiddo,” at the end, flipping her off when she rolled her eyes and let him fall and land in a heap, sitting up and rubbing his elbow.

“Rude.” He muttered but she just laughed, picking up the swords she was training with and moved to continue with her training.

They sat and listened as she explained what had happened, taking small sips of her hot tea as she went. When she finished Percy let out a soft curse.

“So Hermes just took him?” Annabeth asked, her eyebrows furrowed in a way Percy knew meant her mind was going a million miles an hour.

She nodded sadly, “there has to be something I can do right? I was finally making progress; I watched all three Iron Man movies with him.”

“That’s a lot of red,” Percy noted, and she bit her lip, nodding sadly.

“What if I never see him again?” She asked, the way her voice broke hit something inside him as he remembered how much it sucked being separated from Annabeth.

“You will.” Annabeth said with such certainty, Percy expected this faerie boyfriend to appear in the seat next to him. Annabeth lifted her bag and started pilling the books she had brought with her and (y/n) stood and moved around her living room, grabbing ones of her own.

“I figured old myths of my mum might help, y’know forbidden love and all,” she said the joke not quite reaching her eyes, but Annabeth nodded.

“I thought the same, but I also figured maybe something to do with Eurydice and Orpheus given he went to the underworld to get her back when they were separated.”

“Didn’t they both die at the end?” Percy asked and (y/n) laughed sadly.

“Shush,” Annabeth said, passing him a book and highlighter. He groaned.

“Why did I agree to this?” He asked but no one answered, and he looked up to see the two women already reading, determination covering their features, so he instead cracked his neck and picked up his own book.

Almost 10 hours later you slammed your book down in frustration, wiping your eyes roughly.

“Nothing, there isn’t one thing here. Either I do something stupid and we both die, or I need to find a way to be allowed to live in his world half the year and this one the other half.” Your shoulders slumped, “And that’s presuming I ever get to see him again, and then! Even then, I have what 70 years with him if I’m lucky. That’s nothing to him, he’s fucking five hundred years old.”

Annabeth looked up sympathetically, one hand woven in Percy’s hair as he slept with his head in her lap.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t think this has ever happened before. We might have to start looking elsewhere.”

“I just miss him. I know it’s not even been a day, but he was my soulmate, Hermes said so, he thinks I didn’t hear, but I did and now my chest actually hurts now that he’s gone. He’s gone and I don’t think he’s coming back.” You didn’t know how you had any tears left but they were flowing down your cheeks, hot against your cold hands as you wiped your face.

“You will, I promise we’ll figure something out, even if we have to go to the Gods themselves.” Annabeth smiled at you.

“WAIT!” Percy jumped up suddenly, surprising you both, given he appeared to be sleeping. “The Gods, (y/n) you never got your reward.”

“What?”

“After the battle and the fall, you were offered a reward, but you said no because you sensed you would need it in the future. This is the future you need it now you can be with him!” Percy was practically running circles around your living room, gesturing widely as his arms flailed but Annabeth had gone wholly still, doing the math in her head.

“He’s right, that could work.” You felt hope rise in your chest as Annabeth spoke, “But you would have to be specific, if we’ve pissed off Zeus he’ll try trick you, he’s kinda like a genie.” You let out a genuine laugh.

“I think I need to visit my mum,” you said, eyes bright with hope.

“But it’s September.” Percy said, and you gave him a pained smile, grimacing as you realised where you were going.

“I think Nico and I are overdue for a family dinner.”

#acotar #acowar #acofs #acomaf #acofas #Azriel #azriel x reader #percy jackson #Heroes of Olympus

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sp00kworm · 4 years ago

Text

A Den of Iniquity (Part 4)

Pairing: Dracula/Count Dracula/Vlad Tepes x Female Reader

Warnings: Death, Murder, Blood, Gore, Injuries, Violence, Vomiting and Adult content.

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

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The vampire felt a tiredness seep into his very core. His rest in the icy cold storage had made him lethargic and slow. He eased himself upwards, standing on two legs out in the grass of the hospital gardens, wobbling on his legs a little. The night air was cool, but not as cold as the locker had been on his dead flesh. There wasn’t a soul in sight as he peered around, red eyes burning against the dark. Dracula felt his cold flesh regain a bit of movement. He was lethargic as he took a few steps forward, heading towards the fences where the hole he had entered through remained. Thankfully, there was no one to witness the naked form of a man rushing through the gardens, and the vampire turned his gaze to the moon before shifting into a wolf and rushing through the metal wire fencing and into the streets. He raised his black nose and sniffed at the air, remembering where his closest apartment was in a flood of pictures, turns and jumps towards the property. The beast howled before it took off, pink tongue hanging between sharp teeth as it bolted through the streets of inner London. The night air was cool against his black coat as he ran.

The apartment block was quiet, and he awkwardly stumbled in through the window before regaining a semblance of grace, snarling as he shed fur and sniffed at the air. There wasn’t anyone here, and the cleaning lady had been recently. Lemony scents clung to the floor as he moved through the apartment, bare feet dragging along the carpets and slapping against the stone floor of the kitchen. He turned on a light, and squinted at the brightness, before turning it off again and heading towards the small bedroom. There was a wardrobe with some clothes he had stashed in case of an emergency. The vampire drew out a shirt and a pair of trousers, forgoing underwear in favour of collecting a pair of boots and heading to bathroom. The water was cold, but he showered quickly, scrubbing the clotted blood from his mouth, chin, neck and chest. He turned his hands under the spray and gouged at the blood beneath his nails before daring to run his hair under the spray. Pink water circled down the drain as he scrubbed his hair with whatever shampoo had been left. The smell of roses clung to his nostrils as he washed and washed, removing as much of the evidence of his murder as he could manage.

Dracula dressed slowly, twisting, as if unused to the human skin covering him as the shirt clung to him tightly, the material feeling claustrophobic against his skin. He towel-dried his hair and hissed at the mirror, watching the glass erupt into shards with his cursed gaze, the reflections of shadows and bones shattering before he could really catch a glimpse of it.

“The vanity of man.” He grumbled as he rubbed a hand over his styled facial hair. His form was still the same, not a hair had grown nor a freckle on his face. The same. Cold and dead but changeable, malleable to his own and other’s desires. With a deep breath, he stood and tied his hair back, before heading to the door, snatching a coat off the hook as he headed back into the dark London streets, intending on getting home with another meal in his dead stomach. As he took a deep lungful of air, he scented a cut on the wind, and headed towards the scent with a deceitful smile on his face.

His home was dark as he arrived back, feeling energized yet ready for the rest of the night in his bed of foul earth. He’d had a little bit too much of an adventure over the past couple of days. He was becoming an old vampire with the taste for the sedentary luxuries of wealth. Striding up the drive, he came to a halt as he spotted a black cat splayed across his doorstep, its thick tail flicking with irritation as he approached. The cat hissed, claws flashing as his shadowed form loomed ever closer, flickering and spitting back at the beast.

“I will have her.” He promised in heavy Romanian, amidst the fog of his own form, “Whether you want me to or not.” The words echoed around him as he watched the beast snarl at him again, claws scratching his leg through his trousers, opening three tiny wounds which sealed as soon as they opened. The black cat bounded from his doorstep, fluffy with anger as it leaped into the bushes and disappeared into the street, yowling as it went. Dracula watched with a smile before a leaned over into his front lawn and clicked on the cat repellent machine, grinning as the awful noise warded off another beast that was hiding in his bushes.

It had been three days since you sent the restocking email to Vladimir, and you’d yet to have a reply. A text message was still sat unread but received and you were beginning to wonder if you had stepped over an invisible line.

“Maybe he’s not interested, Drac?” You cooed as your black cat wandered around the shop, purring against your legs before he jumped onto your serving counter and chirped for your attention. You ran your hand over his thick, black fur and smiled at your cat as you messed with the fur on his neck. A sharp tone rang through the shop. Your phone blinked awake as you received a text message. His name was across your screen.

‘I apologise for my absence. I had to attend a business meeting in Romania. I only just got back. Forgive me, for I did not mean to make it seem like I was ignoring you. I look forwards to seeing you again soon.’

Another notification chirped before appearing on your screen. The invoices for the next order and the scheduled payment date. You smiled at the text message and replied as Drac attempted to bat the top of your phone.

‘Don’t worry about it. See you soon.’

He read the message as soon as you sent it, the bubble indicating he was typing a reply.

‘Shall I see you at my home again this weekend? I found an interesting selection of English movies I have never seen in Romania.’

With a smile you sent him a small bat emoji and a time for the date before he replied with how he was going to bed, claiming to be tired from the flights and work he’d been dragged into. Drac successfully hit the phone onto the counter with a yowl, his tail swishing back and forth over the wood until you relented, laughing as your cat pushed himself into your arms and purred, a sandpaper tongue licking underneath your chin as he enjoyed your sole love and affection.

Your movie night was cut short with your own business. Vladimir hadn’t been too upset with the disruption to your plans together but did pop in to see you in the shop. He’d even gone as far as to offer his help dressing the place for the wine tasting you had booked, grinning and joking about his own brands that were laid on the table for the guests to give a try. You’d enjoyed his presence, the man helping to calm your nerves with soft gestures and consoling words.

“You have nothing to be nervous about, my dear. The shop is dressed to perfection and the wines are delectable. You will do fine.” You could remember the ghost of a kiss on your cheek before he left you in peace to host the evening, his coat fluttering as he disappeared past the glass front windows of the shop and down into the dark street. It had been a success, and many people had complimented the low lights and fine decorations. When you thanked him, he was nothing but kind, turning the success around, pinning it on your own abilities.

The supermarket was dead this time of night. You scowled at the tins of tomatoes and beans on the shelf, looking for the usual deal with a huff of hot air between your lips. The deal was on another brand this week, and you shrugged as you threw four tins of tomatoes into your trolley and ticked your list on the scrap of notebook paper clutched in your hand. You still had quite a few things to collect. You peered at the list as you walked up the aisle. You trolley collided with another with a metallic bang.

“I’m so sorry!” You rushed to apologise to the other person before gazing upon the tall stature of a familiar man, “Vladimir? I didn’t expect to run into you!” You laughed as he tipped his head at you, clutching his own list of shopping in his hand.

“I too did not expect to see you here.” He chuckled before holding his list up, “I decided to come and collect the ingredients for my next dinner event.” The man tucked his trolley to the side of the aisle, pressed against your own, to give other shoppers room to pass, “Are you here doing your…how do you say it here? Weekly shop?” He offered, his accent thick and heavy as he rushed to think of the words.

With a nod you laughed, holding up your own list, “I’m here doing my weekly shop, yeah. I was running out of cat food, so I figured I should come before Drac kills me in my sleep and eats me instead.” You joked.

Vladimir gave a thin smile, “Cats are such mean beasts.” He offered, “I did not know you had one. What was its name again? Drac? Is it short for Dracula, perhaps?” He joked.

Embarrassment coloured your cheeks, “Ah yeah, it is. He’s so big and scary so I just named him that when I picked him up from the rescue woman. He used to bring me all sorts of bleeding things, so the name just stuck with him.” You explained before tapping your trolley handles, “Do you want to walk together? I can help you find the things you have left, if you want?” You offered.

Vladimir smiled, “But of course. I am a little lost, I must confess.” He admitted before offering you his list, “I do not know where the meat counter is.”

“Oh, all this is on my route around anyway! I’ll show you.” You smiled up at Vladimir before waving for him to follow you, “The meat counter is just up here, but I think this cut of beef will be expensive.” You offered him his list back.

“Money is no problem. I must impress these men. They are part of the chain I would like for my warehousing here.” He confessed as you both approached the small butchers counter.

“Well then we best get you the finest we can find!” You joked as Vladimir turned to take his meat from the butcher on duty.

“Only the finest, indeed.”

Your trip around the shop was brief, or it seemed very brief as you both laughed and talked about what had happened since his impromptu trip abroad.

“I heard Miss Westenra is engaged?” You asked, “Harker told me the last time he was in the shop buying that wine he likes to impress with.” You rolled your eyes at your friend before smiling at Vladimir.

He nodded, “She and a man named Doctor Harvey Seward are to be married. Apparently, his family are all Doctors, and have been since the Victorian era of this country. I hope the marriage is favourable.” Vladimir stopped at the end of the aisle and smiled, “I think I am finished shopping, my dear, but this has been wonderful.” He took one of your hands in his own and placed a kiss on the back of it, “Will I see you this weekend?” He asked as you looked into his dark eyes, admiring the way his long, dark hair framed his face.

“How about we have coffee in the square by the shop?” You whispered as he drew close.

“Nothing would make me happier.” He whisked himself away with a grin and a flip of his coat, and you were left holding the pack of toilet rolls, flustered and hot to the touch.

When you got home you found a bunch of black roses tucked on the doorstep of your shop. You picked them up and admired the deep, scarlet ribbon that was wrapped around them, styled into a beautiful bow. There was a tag attached with a small note.

‘I hope we can spend more time together- Vlad’

You took them inside with a smile, unaware of the red eyes and fanged grin watching you from the mist curling in the shadows across the street.

The vampire watched as you entered the book shop across the square. The café inside the book shop was where he was supposed to meet you. He looked into the window as you passed them by, smiling to the clerk before you headed into the back through the aisles. Curiously, the vampire followed, ducking through the crowd as he entered the shop and smiled as the cashier with a wave of his hand. She smiled back pleasantly at him and continued to price the books stacked on the counter. He followed the route you had taken into the back of the shop and paused in the entrance to an aisle as you passed around the end aisle with a heavy looking book in hand. Dracula smiled as he watched you, ducking into the next aisle to watch again before he looked at the metal watch on his wrist and peered at the time. It was still early. He too, had some time to look around and pick up something to read. With a graceful spin, he headed towards the world books and peered at the titles, wondering if there was something in his own language that he would be able to read properly.

“Vladimir?” You asked as you turned the corner in the bookstore, gazing up at the man curiously, “I didn’t expect to see you in here just yet. With a smile, you tucked the book under your arm and looked up at the ‘around the world’ section.

Vladimir jumped at your interruption, smiling as quickly as he could as he held up a selection of a couple of books. They were all rather heavy looking reading. He offered you a smile, “I was looking for something to read in my home language.” He looked embarrassed, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck, tucking a few stray hands of his dark hair back into his bun after the motion.

“I thought you could read in English?” You asked, confused.

Vladimir smiled before tapping the cover of a novel that was in Hungarian, then another that was in Romanian, “I can read English, but the meanings of many words and phrases escape me in it. My home languages are much easier to comprehend.” He confessed.

You looked at the adaptations of old horrors before tapping the front of your own book, “Maybe I can help? I know you find it easier to read in your mother tongues but maybe if we read together you can get better at understanding certain words?”

Vladimir considered your offer for a moment, dancing from hip to hip before he hummed, “This was not the ideal coffee date I had in mind.” He joked as he plucked another Romanian book from the shelf.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed about it.” You soothed with a hand on his shoulder, “I’ll happily sit and read with you…It…” You tucked your book higher, “It actually sounds like a nice time.”

The vampire felt his chest ache as you smiled, face red from the cold outside.

Vladimir smiled back at you and tipped his chin, “You have convinced me. I will read and you will instruct.” He offered you his arm as you both headed to pay for the books in your hands. As you reached the register he plucked the short stories from your hands and smiled deviously, “I insist.”

You reached to take it back, “You don’t have to do that! I can afford it, you know.”

Vladimir shook his head, his gloved hand raised to silence your protests, “Think of it as payment for your instruction.”

“Thank you.” You relented and smiled warmly. Vladimir returned the gesture by reaching for your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. The lady at the register took the total from his card and packaged the books before ushering you both on your way. With your book in hand you headed upstairs to the café, Vladimir following close at your heels.

The smell of black coffee was somewhat calming as you sat by the window and watched the British rain fall in violent sheets. It didn’t seem to want to calm so you and Vladimir had ordered a second coffee each to pass the time a little more, hoping to not have to run out in it. You listened to him read, your head rested in your palm as you listened to him read softly across from you.

“The subway train lost its life current between two stations and for a quarter of an hour they could hear nothing but the dutiful beating of their hearts and the rustling of newspapers. The bus they had to take next was late and kept them waiting a long time on a street corner, and when it did come, it was crammed with garr…” Vladimir scowled at the word in the book before spinning it to you, pointing at the word in the middle of the page.

You leaned forwards, hot coffee clasped between your hands, “Garrulous.” You smiled at his confusion, “It means, chatty or talking excessively about something trivial.”

Vladimir nodded, rolling the word around his mouth as he repeated it back to you and then himself. He turned the book back to himself before starting the sentence again, “The bus they had to take next was late and kept them waiting a long time on a street corner, and when it did come, it was crammed with garrulous high-school children. It began to rain as they walked up the brown path leading to the sanatorium.” He continued reading, his English seeming to get better and more pronounced as he practiced aloud, and you listened in a trance, watching him for a while before looking out at the bouncing rain.

Vladimir’s soothing voice lilted in the air as you took another sip of coffee and looked back at Vladimir’s handsome face, admiring the angles of his strong jaw and the stylized facial hair. Dark eyes locked with your own as he finished the last line of the story.

“He had got to crab apple when the telephone rang again.” He closed the book around his finger as he reached for the receipt and marked the page for now. He’d gulped his expresso down in the true way, three quick swigs before he’d continued reading to you. Vladimir smiled as he moved his chair out, “Excuse me a moment. I must use the bathroom.”

“Oh, its fine. I’ll be here when you get back!” You joked as you sipped your coffee and turned your gaze back to the window.

Vladimir’s shoes tapped as he walked across the café to the small, single male toilet. The door was heavy and wooden. A thick fire door. He locked the stall with a snap of his wrist and inhaled the smell of bleach and toilet cleaner before he crouched down over the toilet and pushed the seat out of the way. The vampire drew a vial from his trouser pocket and grimaced at the sight of the heavy Ipecac syrup in the plastic tube. Dracula drew the stopper out before squeezing the tube harshly, feeling it coat his tongue and throat before he tossed it into the waste and swallowed with a violent gag, waiting for the influx of coffee stained stomach lining to pour from his body. He stared into the water, a reflection of bone and ash, and gaged as the first mouthful of vomit dripped past his lips.

“You took a while.” You observed with a light tone as Vladimir returned, sitting at the table with his usual smile. He’d changed his hair, “But now that I look at you, I realise that you spent time messing with your hair. Preening in the mirror were you.”

“My hair was a mess, what can I say.” Vladimir teased as he turned his cup upside down on its saucer, pushing it to the side of the table for the waiting staff to pick up.

Gently, you reached to tuck a long piece of his hair behind his ear, watching the man remain still to let you do so, “I think it looked just fine. You always look handsome, Vlad.”

Vladimir took a deep breath as he caught your hand, pressing it to his cool cheek before he laid a kiss on your palm and leaned forwards, “Just as you are always beautiful.” He complimented before releasing your hand and nodding to the window, “We should make a dash for your home while the rain has paused.” He stood up before you to wrap your coat back around you before storing your book in two layers on plastic bag, “Hopefully we can keep the books dry.”

“Here.” You took your card out and paid for the drinks before he could protest, “You can get the next one, Mister Gentleman.” You teased as you paid and turned.

Vladimir offered you his arm with a chuckle. As your arm wrapped around his own, he purred, “Are you implying you would like to go out again, my dear?”

You jabbed his side with a finger, “Yes I am, you big tease.”

The two of you laughed as the sun set, making the streets of London an even drearier grey, plunging them into darkness. The rain splattered across the pavements and tarmac, drenching everything, making the concrete city smell of ash and rain. You laughed, hand in hand, as you dragged Vladimir across the road, dodging a speeding cabby, who promptly stuck his finger out of his window along with some screamed verbal abuse, and jumped up the curb, heading towards the front door of the side stairs to your apartment above the shop. Vladimir dragged you back under his black umbrella as you rifled through your bag for the keys to your apartment. You laughed as the rain poured off the sides and snatched your leys, unlocking the door. Before you could swing it open, Vladimir pushed himself closer, taking your hand and pushing it against the wood before he dived to claim your lips. A cool kiss pressed to your skin and you responded tentatively to the pressure before opening your mouth and feeling the caress of his tongue. It was cold, chilled from the rain, but full of emotion, a desire that was locked deep inside both of you. The man pressed against you, his free arm dropping to wrap around your waist as you clutched at his neck. He drew back with a heavy exhale and pressed his nose to your throat.

Dracula merely pressed a kiss to the hot skin, fangs sliding free at the feel of hot flesh and the blood pumping under his lips. He relented. He controlled himself and then, he pulled away, looking into your half-lidded eyes, wanting nothing more than to steal another intoxicating kiss.

“What are you?” Vladimir whispered against your cheek, “It is like there is a force. A pull I cannot resist…” He kissed the column of your throat again, “It drives the beast wild.”

“What…” You heaved a breath, “What do you mean?” You asked before he kissed you again. Gently, you pushed him away by the chin, “Not…” You steadied yourself, “Not yet. I don’t…”

Vladimir’s eyes appeared black in the darkness, the whites gone, “I understand. I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” He pressed another hurried kiss to your cheek, “Goodbye my darling. I will see you again soon, I hope?”

You nodded before opening the door, “I’ll message you.”

Vladimir turned his collar up against the wind, “I await your call.” A ghostly kiss pressed to your face once again before he disappeared. In the time it took you to open your eyes he was gone. There was an ache in your chest that you couldn’t describe as you entered your apartment and flopped onto your sofa.

Your dates and meetings with Vladimir were few and far between as Halloween finally rolled around. Sales of his products went crazy and you found yourself contacting his supply team more and more often in the weeks leading up to the holiday. You closed early on Halloween, watching the kids rush around the streets in their costumes, giggling and screaming with joy as they held buckets of sweets and chocolates in their grasps. There was very little to do but finish tidying up. You jumped at a knock on the door and rolled your eyes as Harker made faces in your window.

You unlocked the door and peeked through the gap, “If you’d learn to read, you’d realise I’m closed.”

“Aw come on, love. I just want a bottle of that brandy you keep selling!” He remarked and you sighed before letting him in, rushing to grab him the bottle so you could get rid of him faster and close for the evening. You had a movie night planned with Drac, your ever faithful grumpy cat. Vladimir had insisted, with much regret, that he was busy tonight.

“Nice vampire costume. Very gimmicky.” You joked as you plonked the pricey bottle of brandy on the counter, “You sure you want to pay for this for a Halloween party?”

“Sure, I’m sure. I have some guests to impress.” Harker joked as he offered his card and slid the chip into the machine.

A black wolf watched from outside the shop, snarling with teeth as it watched you hug Harker and usher him from the shop. The wolf became a man and snarled again before melting into the shadows, wishing a fall upon the accountant as he staggered back to the early starting party from which he had come. The vampire watched, his hand reaching towards the streetlamp as he moulded back into the shape of the great wolf-dog you had shown such love and affection for last time. He craved your touch. The caress of your fingers. It calmed the lust and hatred for a moment in his everlasting existence.

The taste of your skin was sweet.

A whine made you look up from the counter as you finished packing away the cash for the night. A great paw clawed at the glass and you smiled as you caught sight of the dark eyed, great black dog once more. It had been a long time since you’d seen it. You’d assumed it had been taken in or disappeared altogether. You walked towards the door and unlocked it, letting the hound inside the shop. He was dry this time and the dog rushed to jump up at you, snuffling and licking at your face as it whined and wagged its tail.

“Hey there. Its been a long time since I’ve seen you.” You cooed as you pushed the wolf-dog down and ran your hands through its thick fur, enjoying the warmth trapped in its fur as the animal curled around your legs close.

The dog sniffed his way to your door to upstairs and you smiled before sighing, locking the doors and lowering the shutters before you headed to the door and pointed at the big dog, “You can come up but only if you promise to behave, okay?” The dog stared at you and you opened the door, watching him bound on before you, up the stairs, turning on the landing to watch you follow it up.

He barked sharply and you laughed, “Okay, okay, I’m coming!” You petted his nose as you took the scruff of his neck and opened the door.

Drac, your cat, scowled from the counter in the open kitchen as you eased the dog inside. He hissed, jumping up his fur on end as you looked between them. The dog was silent, watching your cat with a mild amount of interest.

“Come on Drac, be nice. He’s just here for the night. I’ll call the rescue service in the morning.” You cooed at your cat let go of the dog and watched the two glare at each other before Drac jumped up on top of your cabinets and bedded down for the night away from the new house guest. You fixed yourself dinner as the dog padded around. He saw fit to laying underneath your window, dark eyes looking up at the moon, ears pointed back to listen to the noise you were making in the kitchen. It slept as you ate, black fur like silk against your wooden floor. Only when you plonked yourself on the sofa did it open its eyes and perk up, standing from the floor in favour of pushing its way onto your couch.

“Come on, you can’t get up here.” You scolded before the wolf-dog was in your lap, its giant head rested in the crook of your arm, its tongue licking at you as a sign of peace and contentment. With a soft sigh, you began to work your fingers through its fur and turned on the television, content to watch the movies you had planned with your hot drink and the dog in your lap.

“Sleep my love. Sleep without fear. Tonight, I will keep the darkness at bay.”

You felt your eyelids drop at the movie, your hand combing the fur before fisting at the hound in your lap, holding onto the beast as you listened to the movie and the soft lines whispered by a deep voice. A tongue lapped at your cheeks as you felt the great hound exhale. You lulled off into a pleasant, warm sleep, wrapped around the mysterious dog.

“For tonight, your dreams will be mine.”

An old castle stood before you when you opened your eyes, as though you had been awake, and just blinked on a walk. Black silk rippled over you as you walked towards the castle in a dark trail of liquid dress. It almost flowed from you as you opened the great doors and peered inside. There was silence in the main hall, a great shadow of a cross blinding you as you peered down at the stone. You walked through the last of the sun’s orange light and cast no shadow as you moved towards the old, grand staircase. The stone was laid with plush carpet, Turkish and heavy, thick against the soles of your bare feet as you climbed, gazing at old paintings of great battles. Red curtains hung from the ceiling and you ran your hand along one as you reached the top of the stairs, feeling the fine material before you continued, walking in the direction of the ache in your chest. More old stone connected with your fingers as you continued into a labyrinth of corridors before eventually arriving at another old door, the wood engraved with a dragon spewing fire towards its own tail, curled around a sword. With a gentle push, you eased one door open enough to slide into the room.

Warm candlelight greeted you, four giant floor-standing candelabras lit with twenty of so candles each glowing in every corner. A man made no move to greet you, laid across a luscious canopy bed, surrounded by sheer white fabric, hidden from sight. You walked over animal skins and pulled aside the sheer fabric to see a man asleep in a thin, billowed cotton shirt, his trousers loose as though he had simply collapsed into bed. Gently, you eased his face to the side and smiled down at the picture of your mysterious suitor. Vladimir’s sleeping face was restful and calm. A smile curled across his face, telling you he had never been asleep. The man reached to grab you with a great laugh, easing you into his lap on the bed, your hips pressed together as he reached to move a veil you did not know you were wearing.

“My love.” His words burned your throat with adoration, “I have missed you. My heart has longed for you.” You watched his lips move to reveal fangs and reached for his face gently, thumbs pressing to the points. He drew your hands away before continuing, “The beast in me cannot be sated without you, my little tamer.” He rushed to kiss you soundly, thoroughly, moulding his front to your own as his hands sought to pull at the silk covering you to reveal skin and flesh.

You remained silent, soaking in the adoration in his touches and kisses as sharp teeth grazed at your skin.

“I remember your scent.” He purred as his features blended into something more beastly, his red eyes burning as his mouth filled with wolf-like teeth, “I kept your clothes close, everything to remember you.” The beast snarled, a wolfman’s claws tugging at your clothing. You watched the beast, mouth open, wondering where this dream was going as he laid back and pulled you on top of him, “Please, my dearest, let me feel you. I have missed you.” He blathered as you leaned over to kiss him again, tongue catching against the fangs in his mouth, blood mixing with spit. He was cold underneath your hands as you raised yourself, palms against his pectorals. You reached for his groin as he tore his shirt free and pulled his bottoms away enough to reveal his cock. As you grasped him you felt his nose press against your throat, human and cold. Raising your gaze, you looked back at a human shape with a mouth full of teeth, spit dripping between his jaws as they unhinged wide and grasped at your shoulder. With a cry of agony and bliss, you gouged your nails into his back and opened your eyes to see bats fly from the window, screaming into the sunset as your lover’s tongue licked blood from your neck. He dragged you down for another kiss then, blood and spit mixing as you slid him inside of you.

Dracula felt himself stir in the dream, watching as a woman clad in black slid into his bedchambers. He remembered the woman and played at being asleep on the bed as the faceless creature parted the silks and crawled along his body, fingers teasing over his face, admiring his bone structure before he turned to catch her, dragging her hands up before he grinned with fangs and drew her into his lap.

“I’ve waited for you to return.” He purred, feeling the beasts of the darkness howl and coil outside in the beginnings of the night, “I have missed you.” The vampire drew her wrists closer and licked at the skin exposed out of the silk sleeve, “I have missed the taste of you, my love.”

She said nothing as she mounted his hips, watching through the black veil as he grunted, pushed back against the bed by some invisible force, his wrists pinned to the cushions and furs. Her hands dance over his chest and he feels the pull of his own change, howling as wings spread from his back and claws grab for her. He is naked, he realises with a start, before she draws her fingers between her legs and reveals a wetness to his gaze. The bat-like form howls at the scent, and Dracula pumped his hips upwards as her legs spread and she welcomes him inside of her. The hooked claws of his wings slam into the wooden frame of the canopy bed, anchoring him as his clawed hands reach to pull the veil free.

Your face peers down at him, a mouthful of blood dripping from your lips as you look at the hole his other wing had made in your chest. He watched the hole between your breasts close and opened his mouth for a bloodied kiss. As he gazed up, claws shredding the silk covering your skin, he slowed his own hips, snarling when you refused to let him slow. A pair of greying wings thrust over his vision, appearing over your head, a thousand eyes glaring at him from within the feathers. The vampire’s claws snapped the faceless woman close, clutching her close before Death’s bony hands covered his eyes, the two eyes within each of the bony palms rolling, looking into his own in the darkness as he felt the form over him melt away into ash in his arms. Darkness crippled him, dragging his form in on itself.

“She is not yours yet, Dracul.” Death whispered in his ear, “Not unless you can give me what I want?” The cloaked figure appeared before him in the darkness, wings burning with fire that was once radiant.

Dracula snapped his own leathery wings, “What do you want from me so badly?! Is it so worthy of you making my dreams so miserable and tormenting me with the agony I have suffered a thousand times over!?”

Death watched him for a moment before opening its palms, “One death.” He whispered.

“Give me the name.” The vampire hissed.

“Her.” Death offered him a burning flame, “I want her death.” He laid the small burning fire of your life in his hands before stroking the vampire’s leathery wings, “I need her life, but her soul is yours.”

The vampire whipped around with claws and fangs in the darkness, but there was no one there to listen to his dark screams of anguish.

You awoke to an empty sofa and old horror movies still rerunning. Drac had taken the hounds place in your arms, curled tightly against you. You frowned and looked up as a chilly breeze graced your legs. The open window let in another frigid gust of air and you rushed to close it as a great black smog rushed around the corner of the building, just in the corner of your eyes. You ran a hand through your hair and swallowed as you remembered the dream that had haunted you last night. You clicked off the TV and clicked the hot water on before starting to make yourself some breakfast to distract yourself from the realness of what you had seen.

“Halloween is crazy.” You muttered as you boiled some water for a hot drink.

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glassworkspiderlilies · 5 years ago

Text

got me good vibes thank god i ain’t driving

Fire Emblem Three Houses | Dimitri/f!Byleth | AO3 Summary: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd goes grocery shopping at 3:30AM and meets an enigmatic girl in the dairy aisle. It goes from there. (Or, something-of-a-college-cryptid Byleth comes and goes as she pleases and befriends the Blaiddyd heir. Or he befriends her. In any case, it's an interesting semester.) Notes: Stress relief fic of no real discernible plot; best described with “head empty, just typing”. I’m serious, please do not think too hard while reading, I got nothing LOL. On the other hand, I had a lot of fun. Approximately (and absurdly) 10k words; more notes on AO3.

“Hey, Dimitri. One of those nights, huh?”

“Yes. Want a Mad Bull?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

It’s 3:30AM, and Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd is grocery shopping. The cashier on graveyard shift is well-acquainted with him now, at least on a surface level, as one becomes when you’re (usually) the only two people in the store at an ungodly hour. Dimitri buys him energy drinks sometimes. The cashier slips him extra coupons if he’s got them.

A combination of insomnia and nightmares keeps Dimitri up a lot, and while he can mostly regulate the insomnia, some nights are just particularly bad. Alternatively, if he is asleep but wakes up at any point, it’s too difficult for him to fall asleep again, so he may as well get up.

It’s not the worst, since he’s used to it by now, and at university. There are things enough that he can do during these witching hours, grocery shopping at the 24-hour supermarket being one of them.

On the rare occasion there are other people in and out of the place, but Dimitri only sees them from a distance as they go about their own shopping. At this time, everyone’s minding their own business for one reason or another.

That’s why it’s a surprise when he turns into the dairy aisle to see a young woman standing in front of the cheeses. She’s wearing a soft gray hoodie with pink striping on the cuffs and hem, her hands in her pockets and the hood covering her hair, dark jeans, and knee-high boots. Despite the more casual style, it strikes Dimitri as somehow a little dressy, though Sylvain would snort and say he’d be one to talk. (Dimitri can’t help it. It’s how he was raised; he feels most comfortable in button-downs and crisp jackets. His most casual is a neat sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers, like now. And anyway, Sylvain seemed to have fun enough choosing things to add to Dimitri’s wardrobe. At this point, all of Dimitri’s friends borrowed his clothes if they fit—even Felix, who always did so without asking, and sometimes Dimitri never even knew.)

The girl doesn’t even turn despite the sound of Dimitri’s cart, and he thinks that he’ll wait politely for her to finish her selection before making his, pretending to look at the nearest shelf. But she stands there for a few minutes too long without moving, and so after some deliberation and hesitation, Dimitri decides to approach. It’s his last aisle, and he more or less knows what he wants, so he’ll be quick and out of here.

She doesn’t move even as he comes to stand next to her, and he murmurs “excuse me” as he looms a little over her to reach for a block of Gautier cheese. An unfortunate yet unavoidable action based on positioning, because she is spectacularly dead center of the things he wants, and she still doesn’t move despite the proximity.

Dimitri glances at her, wondering if she’s okay. Her expression is totally blank; she’s either zoning out or focusing extremely hard.

Well. It’s pretty late—or early—after all.

He reaches for a second block and puts the two into his cart, stepping away from the girl to turn his attention to the yogurts that he gets for Sylvain on the next section over. He takes two of the mixed berry ones first before debating over the others.

“Plain or spicy?”

It takes him a minute to register the voice and the words, soft and pleasantly mid-tone.

Dimitri turns to find the girl looking at him, and he thinks oh, she’s really pretty, now that he’s seen her in full view, before actually connecting the dots that she’s the one who had spoken.

“Um, spicy?” he offers, and the girl seems to think for a moment before she nods decisively.

He watches as she reaches for two blocks of artisan cheese, flecks of herbs and spices visible through the packaging—not one he’s tried before, or honestly remembered seeing here—and turns to plop them squarely in his hands, balancing them perfectly on top of the yogurt containers.

She then walks away, putting her hands back in her pockets.

“Uh?” Dimitri says belatedly, looking between the girl’s retreating figure and the cheese.

Am I supposed to buy these for her? He wonders, as he puts everything in his hands in his cart. He grabs a six-pack variety of yogurt before rushing after her, but she’s gone by the time he makes it to the registers.

“All set?” the cashier yawns, and Dimitri blinks at him.

“Wasn’t there a girl just now? In a gray hoodie?” Dimitri asks, laying down his purchases.

“Hm? Oh yeah, she walked out without buying anything,” the cashier says, starting to scan the items, “People just come in here to kill time sometimes.”

“Oh,” Dimitri says, looking towards the doors.

He completes his transaction, leaving the Mad Bull for the cashier, who waves his hand gratefully, and makes his way back to his car. The girl is still nowhere in sight; Dimitri realizes he wishes that she were.

He loads his groceries into his trunk and drives back to the dorms.

By the time he finishes finding space in the fridge for everything, it’s a little past 4AM. In about an hour and a half, Ingrid will be up for her morning run, and she always welcomes company. Dimitri shoots her a text for when she wakes up; he’ll pick up coffee and pastries for them too.

For now, he might as well work on his upcoming paper a little more.

“So, what’s with the special cheese in the fridge?” Sylvain asks later that day, when their childhood quartet all meet up for lunch.

“Oh,” Dimitri says, remembering. “That. Um…there was a girl in the supermarket who just kind of…had me buy them?”

Sylvain, Felix, and Ingrid blink at him.

“What do you mean, ‘had you buy them’?” Felix says.

Dimitri recounts the whole experience.

“And you bought them,” Felix says, with his brows furrowed, his eyes and tone clearly conveying what the hell, that was so stupid.

Dimitri just shrugs.

“We should eat it later,” Ingrid says, biting into her burger, and Sylvain laughs.

“Yeah, leave it to Ingrid,” he says. “But we should. To commemorate Dimitri’s weird 3AM experience.”

Sylvain makes a big deal of it when they do eat the cheese later, when their classes have ended for the day and they’re back in their suite. He puts the crackers on a plate and tries to cut the cheese into fancy shapes, which only Dimitri actually appreciates.

“Oooh, spicy,” Ingrid says, as she pops a cube into her mouth. “Hey, this is really good!”

Felix says nothing, but reaches for more. Sylvain laments about the lack of appreciation for his artistic attempts, but also agrees that the cheese is great when he finally eats a piece himself.

Dimitri, as always, cannot really taste the flavor, but he likes both the scent and the texture, at least.

“So Dimitri finally meets a girl, we get a brand new cheese, what else is next?” Sylvain says, leaning back on the sofa.

“It wasn’t like that,” Dimitri protests, then pauses. “But she was very pretty,” he admits quietly, and Sylvain grins. “Like a goddess,” he adds, even quieter.

Sylvain smacks his own face in secondhand embarrassment.

“There, you see? It’s Dimitri’s romantic awakening.”

“Hardly matters unless he gets to see her again,” Felix says lazily, and Sylvain is the one that makes a wounded noise.

Dimitri, on the other hand, merely looks thoughtful. He hadn’t actively thought about wanting to see her again until Felix brought it up. But he thinks he might like to, if the chance presented itself.

“It’s the awakening,” Sylvain whisper-hisses, and no one seems to care.

“Stranger things have happened,” Ingrid says, in response to Felix’s statement and not Sylvain’s, “In any case, you should get this again.”

She tries to eat the rest. Felix fights her for it.

(When Dimitri goes shopping again two weeks later, he can’t find the cheese anywhere. Ingrid looks let down, Sylvain looks surprised, and Felix looks offended.

“What the fuck? Go find your 3AM cheese goddess again and ask her,” Felix says, and Sylvain laughs a little too hard.)

Dimitri’s not sure why he allows himself to be dragged to parties, but he keeps letting it happen. Ingrid had brought them news that Dorothea was throwing her beginning-of-semester bash, which was always a Big Deal, and several of their mutual friends were going. Ingrid couldn’t not attend, because she was good friends with Dorothea. Sylvain was absolutely going, because he would never miss a party. Felix had not wanted to go, but Sylvain had somehow convinced him, and if Felix was going to suffer, then Dimitri better damn well suffer too, and so he relented from the combined pressure of Felix’s glare and Sylvain’s coaxing.

He supposed he could use the change of pace every now and then. And he could always slip away; people were usually too drunk to notice after a couple hours.

Sylvain borrows a shirt from Dimitri’s closet and wears it with three buttons undone. Felix steals a black jacket from Dimitri’s closet and wears it halfway down his arms. Ingrid does not take anything from his closet this time, but does borrow one of his hair ties.

Everyone tells Dimitri to change when he comes out of his room; Sylvain, as usual, takes control to make Dimitri more “party ready”, which consists of a long blue coat and off-white shirt—with several buttons undone, of course. (Dimitri buttons at least two up again later.)

The party is loud and raucous as it’s meant to be, but he’s amongst mostly friends, and so he’s actually not that anxious. There’s a few people he doesn’t know, but he is otherwise at least mostly familiar with everyone else. Annette bounces up and down when she sees them walk in, tapping Mercedes on the shoulder, who was conversing with Ashe. Dedue appears a moment later, and Dimitri’s main friend group is all here.

“Yay! I’m glad you made it too, Dimitri,” Annette says cheerfully. “Gosh—frowning already, Felix? Here, have a drink.”

Annette proffers her own cup.

“You already drank out of this,” Felix scowls, but he takes it anyway, and grimaces when he takes a sip. “What is this, fruit juice?”

“Felix is too good for Noa liquer,” Annette declares, turning her nose up, “Fine, go get yourself a beer or whatever!”

Felix teases her by holding her cup too high to reach, and she screeches at him until he finally puts it back in her hands. Mercedes chuckles as she watches them, and Sylvain takes the opportunity to compliment her dress with a roguish wink. She returns the compliment easily enough, with genuine warmth, which always throws Sylvain off.

“Dedue! I was surprised to hear you were coming,” Dimitri smiles, and Dedue smiles back.

“Dorothea asked if Ashe and I could make a few things,” he said. “Since I am here, I may as well make sure nobody gets in too much trouble.”

Dimitri chuckles.

“Oooh, Dedue, Ashe, you made food?” Ingrid chimes in, looking excited. While some things had obviously been bought, Dorothea was pretty picky about the specifics of her parties when she threw one. “I’m excited!”

“We did a really good job, if I say so myself,” Ashe smiles. “The meat skewers came out really well, so you and Felix should grab some while you get a chance.”

“Oh, you bet I will,” Ingrid says, already wandering away. “Hear that Felix? I’m not saving you any!”

Felix yells back, and in a second they all start wading deeper into the place, and everyone starts to branch off on their own. Dedue still mostly sticks with Dimitri, though, and the two of them stick to the peripheries.

Dorothea’s parties really span the entire apartment building; her neighbors across the way and downstairs are either friends or people she’s friendly with, so the doors to their apartments are also open for more space. If Dimitri thinks about it, it’s really nice, the way everything comes together.

As the night wears on and he’s consumed a couple drinks that Mercedes had kindly procured for him (with a reminder to drink slow), he begins feeling—looser, braver, almost a little giddy. Dedue is in conversation with Ashe, and Dimitri slips away to the kitchen for a moment, because there had been an extra dish of saghert and cream that he now wants in a very visceral way.

The kitchen is surprisingly empty—except for one person, who has climbed up on the counter, and is perched on her knees as she rifles through the topmost cabinet. The slit up the side of her skirt shows a generous bit of leg with the way she’s positioned, and Dimitri stares before he tells himself not to. The girl takes out two bags of—some kind of snack, and when she turns her head, Dimitri sees that she is holding another bag with her teeth, and also that he recognizes her.

“From the dairy aisle,” he blurts, and she blinks at him before trying to climb off the counter.

She teeters a little and Dimitri automatically moves to help her, in which he actually just lifts her off the counter by the armpits like a wayward cat.

“Oh—sorry,” he says, realizing that the action was way too familiar for someone who barely qualified as an acquaintance.

But she doesn’t look at all offended, and merely sets all three bags of chips down before she speaks.

“Thanks,” she says, then stares at him. “From the dairy aisle,” she states, in a manner that is confirming that yes, that is where they met.

A pause. She is so, so pretty, Dimitri thinks. There is sparkly gold eyeshadow brightening her already-bright green eyes, making her stare more intense. The more they’re at a standstill, the more nervous he becomes.

“I couldn’t find the cheese again,” he blurts.

She nods.

“It’s only stocked the fourth Tuesday of the month,” she says, ripping open a bag of chips, and taking a few to cram in her mouth before offering them to Dimitri.

“Oh,” he says, taking a chip. “It was very good. My friends liked it a lot too.”

She stares for a moment again, then offers him a tiny smile, a brief upturn of her lips. She had expected him to, he realizes, and she’s at least minutely pleased to have that expectation fulfilled. A short laugh escapes him at how odd this all is.

“You didn’t buy anything that night,” he says, though it comes out as a question.

She shrugs.

“I was just there,” she says, offering the chip bag again.

“Just there,” he repeats, taking more chips. At 3:30AM. “To…hang out?”

She gives a brief shake of her head.

“To stare at a specifically stocked cheese, only to give them to a stranger to buy?” Dimitri tries again.

She blinks at him, popping more chips in her mouth.

“Not a stranger,” she says, after she finishes chewing.

“Pardon? Forgive me, I don’t…recall us meeting before that night?” he says. He would have remembered someone like her, he’d think.

“You’re Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd,” she says, and he blinks at her use of his full name. Her eyes crease in amusement at his expression. “Not a stranger to me.”

Ah.

“But you are a stranger to me,” he says, and she shrugs again, as if saying it’s not like it’s something he could help.

“Byleth,” she offers, putting the open bag of chips in his hands, and opening up another one. (He looks at the labeling on the front. Beast meat and onion flavor. Huh.) “Want to go on an adventure, Dimitri?”

He looks back at her, mouth slightly open. She continues to stare at him, munching away from the other bag of chips, waiting for his response.

“Okay,” he says.

She nods, then rinses her fingers at the sink before motioning for him to follow with her head. She takes the two bags of chips with her as she walks out of the kitchen.

She navigates the crowd until she finds a group of three, all dressed looking as if they could kill, dumping the chip bags into the hands of a redhead.

“Hm? Chatterbox, where did you find these?” the girl says, reading the unusual flavors.

“Kitchen cabinet,” Byleth says, and the girl shoots her a half-exasperated look, but questions no further.

She hands one of them to the girl with blonde curls beside her, and Dimitri proffers the third bag as well, which the redhead also takes with a curious glance at him. Byleth makes to leave, but the boy with lavender hair and sparkly eyeshadow—the same that glints on Byleth’s eyelids, he realizes—stops her.

“Whoa, hold on there, friend! Not so much an introduction?”

“You know him already,” Byleth says, and the boy frowns at her.

“Yuri Leclerc,” he says, turning to Dimitri.

“Name’s Hapi,” the redhead pipes up, still looking at the chips.

“And I am Constance von Nuvelle,” the blonde says, tilting up her chin with a haughty smile.

“Dimitri,” he says, a little shyly, since they already know him. “A pleasure.”

“I’m sure,” Yuri says, with a nod of his head, before glancing back at Byleth. “Are you leaving already? And kidnapping the Blaiddyd Heir?”

“Yes,” Byleth says.

A pause.

“Well, carry on then,” Yuri says with a shrug. “Want a drink before you go?”

“Yes,” Byleth says.

They wait as Yuri makes his way to the counter full of bottles a little ways away, watching as he makes a cocktail in a shaker with professional ease. He strains the drink into three cups, carrying all of them back, and Byleth and Dimitri take one each.

“You get what I’m drinking,” Yuri says, eyes wicked, and does not offer up what it is. Dimitri sips, and by the way it burns, he can tell it’s strong. Yuri looks faintly impressed with Dimitri’s lack of reaction beyond a few rapid blinks. “I’ll tell the Heir’s friends where he went, if I see them asking.”

“Thank you,” Dimitri says, realizing that he doesn’t know where any of them are at the moment.

Byleth merely nods, and motions for Dimitri to follow again.

The night air is refreshing, and Dimitri feels pleasantly floaty as he trails after his new friend. They round the Black Eagle complex and head into the dark woods behind; he doesn’t know where they’re going and feels like he shouldn’t ask; he has an idle thought that he should text one of his friends to let them know, but Byleth looks back at him to make sure he’s following and he can only think about how pretty she is. He smiles at her, and she tilts her head before reaching for his hand.

“Hand,” Dimitri says, looking down at them.

“Hand,” Byleth agrees. “The ground is uneven here.”

He looks a little longer and then swings them a little. Byleth looks amused.

He enjoys the silent companionship between them for a little while but quickly becomes curious, so he begins asking her questions. What year was she? A senior. Where did she live on campus? In Abyss, at the Ashen Wolf dorm. Her major? More or less the teaching program, with a focus on weapons and tactics. Technically it was something of a double major, paired with history and international studies. It was complicated. Her weapon concentrations? This year, faith and reason magic. She’d already passed for swords, brawling, and bows.

He stares at her open-mouthed as she answers his questions with easy patience.

“That’s…quite the curriculum,” he says slowly, “When do you sleep?”

She glances at him.

“I manage,” she says, “I could say the same for you.”

He pauses, looking up at the sky as he collects his thoughts, sipping at his drink absentmindedly. She must already know what his curriculum more or less was—the three heirs apparent of Adrestia, Faerghus, and Leicester attending the same school the same year had been quite the news, and though their ideas of management differed, they did also overlap in areas. A handful of their core classes were inevitably the same before they branched off into their own areas of interest. But in any case, all of them were double-majoring with incredibly heavy courseloads to help prepare for their futures.

“It’s just insomnia,” Dimitri says instead.

“Ah,” she says, nodding. “So, 3AM grocery shopping.”

“So 3AM grocery shopping,” he agrees.

He’s not sure how long they’ve been walking, but even if it’s been a long time, he finds this all terribly pleasant. A distant part of him is aware that he would not be this at ease had it not been for the drinks he’s had tonight. Alcohol is wonderful.

Byleth pushes through some branches, and they walk into a clearing, and Dimitri looks up at an enormous tree, his mouth open.

“Ta-da,” Byleth says, though her inflection doesn’t change, “Biggest tree on campus. Good place to sleep under.”

“Now?” Dimitri says, with some alarm.

“You could camp if you wanted to. But in the daytime,” Byleth tells him, drinking from her cup. “Try it sometime.”

He blinks at her, unsure if this is just a general suggestion or specifically geared advice.

“Not sure I could find it again,” he says, because he doesn’t recall the path they took at all, too distracted by other things. Also, despite the moon, it had been quite the dark trek.

“I’ll bring you,” she says simply.

They go closer to the tree, and Byleth reaches up to one of the lowest branches and snaps off two thin stalks of leaves, inspecting them before nodding.

“Okay, let’s go back.”

“Oh,” Dimitri says, a little dumbfounded, “Okay.”

They make their way back. Along the way, Dimitri finishes his drink, Byleth stumbles over a tree root (her shoes are heeled, he realizes just now, how did she trek all the way in those?), and Dimitri somewhat insistently offers her a piggy back ride. She accepts, loosely wrapping her arms around his neck with both of their empty cups stacked in one hand, and Dimitri feels just a little giddy. He wants to run. (He tells himself not to.)

“You know,” she says after a while, resting her chin on his shoulder, “You shouldn’t follow strangers into dark and unknown places.”

“Not a stranger,” Dimitri says, feeling exceedingly proud of himself for the response.

He feels rather than sees her smile, and is disappointed he can’t see it. When they make it to Dorothea’s, Sylvain and Felix are outside, and the former hollers when he sees him.

“You stupid boar, why the hell didn’t you pick up your phone?!” Felix hisses when they near, and Dimitri’s eyes widen.

Byleth hops off of his back (and Sylvain stares), and Dimitri pulls his phone out of his pocket to see six notifications of missed calls and texts.

“It was on silent,” Dimitri says apologetically, and Felix huffs. “Sorry.”

“Aw, no harm no foul,” Sylvain says, “Dimitri was just occupied, huh?”

“I kidnapped him,” Byleth says, throwing the two empty cups into a nearby trash can.

“We had an adventure,” Dimitri says, enthusiastically.

“Did you now,” Sylvain says, looking at Byleth, who merely stares back and adjusts her posture like a challenge. It only serves to make Sylvain more intrigued.

“This is Byleth,” Dimitri says, “From the dairy aisle!”

“Oh, the 3AM cheese goddess?” Sylvain says with a laugh, and Felix flushes at the stupid moniker as Byleth blinks in surprise.

“Yes,” Dimitri nods, “She says it’s only stocked…uh…”

“The fourth Tuesday of the month,” she supplies.

“What the fuck?” Felix says incredulously.

She shrugs. A chime goes off, and this time Byleth reaches into her bra to pull out her phone. All three boys stare at her.

“Gotta go,” she says, tapping out a quick reply. “Balthus is fighting someone.”

“Ah,” Dimitri says, wilting, his eyes and countenance like a sad puppy.

“You’ll see me around,” Byleth tells him with a faint smile, and disappears back into the apartment.

“He’s smitten,” Sylvain whispers to Felix, watching Dimitri stare after her.

“Disgusting,” Felix says back, scowling. “He’s also drunk. Did she say there was a fight?”

They head back in to find the rest of their friends to assure them that Dimitri is alive. There is indeed a fight, but a result of two very brawny guys—one presumably Balthus, the other Raphael—testing their abilities against each other. Dorothea is yelling, trying to get them to take it outside before they break things in her apartment and someone else gets hurt, to no avail.

Dimitri catches Yuri’s eye from across the crowd, who grins and waves in a cheeky sort of manner, pointing back to the ring. Byleth then appears, sliding her way in between them with impeccable timing and launching her own surprise attack. She punches the one with wild dark hair in the gut, then grabs him by the wrist and throws him to the floor. The apartment erupts in cheers.

“Aw, what the hell, Byleth!” Balthus yells, sitting up.

“Didn’t you hear the lady?” she says to both him and Raphael, who is also cheering, “Outside.”

“You deserved that, B,” Hapi chimes in, “You started it.”

“Alright, alright,” Balthus groans. “Round two outside, then!”

Sylvain elbows Felix, and they both look at Dimitri.

“Smitten,” Sylvain says.

“Disgusting,” Felix says, with feeling.

(Alcohol is terrible, Dimitri decides the next morning, when he wakes up with a massive hangover. He ventures out of his room and all three of his childhood friends—who are somehow already up, how was that possible?—stare at him in one coordinated movement to incredibly eerie effect. They also look how he feels.

“We’ve got the hangover cures,” Ingrid says, placing a plate of greasy breakfast food down as Sylvain holds up the full coffeepot and Felix rattles their mega-size bottle of aspirin. “So spill about what the hell happened last night.”

Dimitri demurs momentarily to brush his teeth and wash his face. After, he sits down at their common table, accepts a cup of coffee, and dutifully spills.)

It’s two weeks before he sees Byleth again, having not being able to catch a glimpse of her anywhere. Garreg Mach was a big university, and he hadn’t recognized her from campus previously, but…now that he was looking, he’d kind of expected to at least see her on occasion from a distance.

It’s another late-night chore night, and it’s about 1AM when he hauls his basket of dirty clothes to the laundry room. He expects the potential of others doing their laundry since the hour isn’t that late, but when he pushes through the doors he does not expect to see Byleth sitting on top of one of the washing machines, legs drawn up, a hardcover book perched on her lap.

She holds up a hand in greeting, as if she had been waiting for him to walk through the door.

“Hello,” Dimitri returns, blinking a few times, disoriented.

One, her legs are distracting him, because they are so bare and it doesn’t look like she’s wearing pants. Two, while she isn’t disallowed here to do laundry, this is the Blue Lion dorm. She lives in the Ashen Wolf dorm, which is oddly isolated from every other housing, so there is absolutely no reason for her to be doing laundry here, at a location of total inconvenience, at 1AM.

“What are you doing here?” he ventures, walking over and setting down his basket in front of the empty one next to her.

Byleth lets her legs down so they dangle over the side of the washing machine, just over her sandals. She is wearing pants, he sees—or shorts, rather. They’re just…very short, and her oversized sweatshirt nearly covers them. She looks comfy, at least.

“Reading,” Byleth responds, holding up the book, A Treatise on Srengian Weaponcraft.

“You’re studying—here?” Dimitri asks incredulously.

Byleth shrugs.

“Good of a place as any,” she says.

“I...guess it could be,” Dimitri relents.

It’s not busy at this time, and the machines are top-notch, so the noise they produce could be acceptable enough ambience. He stares at her a minute before he moves on to load his clothes into the machine, carefully measuring out the detergent and pressing his desired settings. Byleth watches him, and when the immediate task is completed, Dimitri nervously faces her.

“I um…I’m sorry for my behavior at the party,” he says, trying not to wring his hands as he thinks about the piggyback ride. “My actions were—overfamiliar.”

“On the contrary,” Byleth counters easily, “You helped me out.”

He brightens a little at that, and she tilts her head at him. After a moment she smiles a little, and Dimitri feels his heart skip a beat.

“How was the morning after?” she asks, and Dimitri coughs at the wording.

“Not ideal,” he admits, rubbing the max of his neck. “My tolerance is not very high. But I recovered.”

“I’ll note that,” she says, with a nod. “Yuri hits hard with his drinks. You took it well, considering.”

He debates whether to bring up his lack of taste, but decides against it. That conversation always goes one way, and he doesn’t want to bring up past tragedies and traumas, right now.

“You were okay?” he asks instead, and she gives him an amused look.

“High tolerance,” she says. “Father’s side.”

“Ah,” Dimitri nods. Not that he knows her very well, but she hadn’t seemed drunk at all—though by the time he’d run into her in the kitchen he wasn’t confident in his own observational accuracy. He doesn’t know where to go from here, and his eyes fall on her book. “So…Srengian weaponry?” he tries, and winces at the awkwardness of the delivery.

But Byleth nods.

“Known for their maces,” she says absently, cracking the text open again, “But their other weapons have some good durability.” She pauses, looking at him. “Might be a worthwhile investment.”

He blinks. The Blaiddyd line is well-known for their greater-than-average strength, and Dimitri is no exception. Still, he hates how easily things break in his hands; even iron and steel can shatter in his grip if he’s startled. But Byleth offers this suggestion so matter-of-factly, as if she were recommending a flavor of ice cream or color of shirt, that he can’t even be embarrassed about it.

“It might be,” Dimitri says eventually. “I’ll look into it. Sylvain has contacts in Sreng.”

“So do I, if you need another,” Byleth says, and Dimitri blinks at her again.

Sreng’s clan politics are notoriously turbulent, and Sylvain only had actual contacts because he had been trying to improve relations as the next head of House Gautier, whose lands bordered Sreng. Otherwise, Sreng wasn’t usually a place people had, or could get, contacts in.

“You…have contacts in Sreng?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“My father used to be a mercenary before a bodyguard,” Byleth says absently, “So I grew up as one, too. We used to travel a lot.”

There’s more to it, Dimitri can tell, but he doesn’t push, purely because he doesn’t know what, exactly, to ask.

“There more I learn about you, the less I seem to know,” he says with a wry smile after a minute.

She stares at him.

“And to me, you feel familiar,” she murmurs.

His eyes widen.

“Oh,” he says.

“Oh,” she agrees.

There’s silence.

“I only ever seem to meet you unexpectedly,” he ventures, after a long while. The washer beeps, the lock to the door releasing. He goes to open it.

“I’m not a ghost,” Byleth says, watching as he takes out his damp clothes and begins moving them to the dryer.

“That’s relieving,” he smiles. “I also only ever seem to see you at night.”

She only smiles faintly at that.

“Let’s spar,” she says.

“Wha—now?”

“No, tomorrow,” she says. “During the day.”

He’s not entirely sure what brought this on, but he does think he’d like very much to see her fight.

“After one o’clock?” He asks, wracking his brain for his schedule, and she considers it for a moment before nodding and hopping off of the washing machine.

She slides her feet back into her sandals ad begins walking away. Dimitri panics for a moment, because they haven’t hashed out any details.

“Wait! How will we—?”

“I’ll make myself visible,” Byleth says, already halfway out the door as she peeks back, “You won’t miss me.”

And then she’s gone. Dimitri shakes his head as he finishes moving the rest of his laundry. Once he straightens back up, he realizes she’s left her book.

A tether, he thinks.

After a moment, as he waits for his clothes to dry, he picks it up and cracks it open.

A good of a place to read as any.

He tries to not tell his friends after lunch where he’s going (and technically, he doesn’t even know), but his antsiness is apparent, so his secret-keeping fails spectacularly. Sylvain and Ingrid tag team him, and he gives Ingrid a betrayed look.

“Fellas, do we think it’s a date?” Sylvain asks, holding out his hands as if he’s addressing a council.

“It’s sparring,” Ingrid says, “Not a date.”

“Could be a date,” Felix says.

“Only you would consider that a date,” Sylvain laments.

Felix shoves him. Dimitri hurries along, trying to leave them behind in the cafeteria to no avail. He really wishes he had been more insistent on details last night, because in a few moments, he’ll be at a loss of where he should be heading.

It’s a needless worry, because as he walks out, he is reminded of Byleth’s words. In the distance, where the space opens up and there are benches situated along walkways, an enormous amount of birds are flocking.

“Oh,” Dimitri says, and when his friends catch up behind him, they also stare.

“What the hell is that?” Felix says, and Dimitri picks his way towards the mass.

“Byleth, I think,” Dimitri answers faintly. “She said I wouldn’t miss her.”

When they near the birds scatter in one movement, though some brave ones flutter back. Byleth is indeed revealed to have been in the middle—and cause—of that, a bag of birdseed mostly empty in her hands. She nods her head in greeting as Sylvain starts laughing.

“Hello,” Ingrid says, whacking Sylvain once, but he doesn’t stop and doubles over instead, “I think I missed out on meeting you properly at Dorothea’s. I’m Ingrid.”

She holds out her hand, and Byleth says her name in return as she shakes it.

“I want in on the spar,” Felix says, and Sylvain wheezes, his laughter abruptly cut off by Felix’s self-imposed third-wheeling status of this potential date.

“Okay,” Byleth says without hesitation, and Ingrid and Sylvain sigh. Not a date.

Dimitri isn’t offended, mostly intrigued. Byleth stands, brushing feathers and seeds off of her lap, and sets off in the direction of the gyms and training halls. The others follow, Ingrid and Sylvain too interested to stay behind.

Dimitri had brought a change of clothes, but it becomes evident that Byleth intends to fight in her jeans and nice blouse and heeled boots, so he doesn’t end up changing. There’s no conversation, though Sylvain fills the silence with chatter anyway, as if this is a routine they know well.

Byleth picks up a practice sword and Felix’s eyes gleam; Dimitri picks up a practice lance, handling it with a light touch.

“Best two out of three,” Byleth says, and Dimitri nods.

She lets him take first hit, the two of them warming up as they trade easy blows. She’s quick, but so is Dimitri despite his size. He does well enough at keeping her at a distance, but he misreads her intention and she lunges in close, tapping her blade against his ribs.

“Point!” Sylvain calls excitedly.

“No need to go easy,” she says, “For lances, the moment the distance closes, you have to be quick and readjust, or it’s over.”

“Yes, Professor,” Dimitri says, the title slipping out. “Ah—”

Byleth gives him an amused look but doesn’t comment, getting back into position.

They go again. Dimitri throws away some of his reservations but still not entirely, and she lands the second round too.

“Harder,” she says, and Sylvain whistles as Dimitri flushes.

“I’m concerned about my strength,” he admits, examining the practice lance. Breakage of the practice equipment itself is no matter, but it’s the ensuing issues that can arise.

“Mercenary training, remember,” Byleth says, and though they don’t see it, Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid’s eyebrows rise.

Dimitri frowns, but takes a deep breath, and trusts her.

He whirls. Byleth’s reflexes are excellent and she dodges fairly easily, tracking his moments with an even sharper gaze than before. He doesn’t like fighting, but he’s been trained since he was a child; it wasn’t necessary in this day and age to know how to—it was more common to just hire protection detail against demonic or wild beasts, or other enemies—but those descended from the old noble bloodlines especially still held onto tradition, whether as a hobby or actual self-protection. Even so, he can tell the difference between them; she’s seen real battle, and though he has too, not in the same capacity. The way she strategizes and reads his movements in a split second is incredible.

The cracks from their clashing practice blades are louder, and Dimitri registers that his will shatter soon. It’s hard to control his strength when the fight is so exhilarating. He goes for it anyway, jumping back from her slash and spinning his lance in his hands rapidly; Byleth’s eyes narrow, and he lunges.

He just barely sees her move, her timing is impeccable—she jumps, stomping the tip of the lance into the ground before stepping forward and snapping his lance at its weakest point. As her foot hits the ground, she crouches low and sweeps his legs out from under him.

When he opens his eyes, she has her sword under his chin.

“A good move,” she says, “But it’s going to take more than that to catch me.”

She’s not even saying it flirtatiously. She does, however, smile at little at him before offering a hand up, and Dimitri thinks he might be in love.

“Oh, he’s done for,” Sylvain says under his breath.

“He doesn’t deserve her,” Felix scoffs, his tone almost bored, but his eyes are bright at the display of Byleth’s skill.

Ingrid doesn’t say anything, and when the two boys turn to her, having expected her to respond, they see her typing furiously on her phone.

“Traitor,” Felix says, clicking his tongue.

“Just doing my duty,” Ingrid replies solemnly.

(Felix also loses all three bouts against Byleth, though he comes close the third time. Afterwards, they all end up training together, and even Sylvain puts his mind to it after Ingrid drags him onto the field.

“We’re getting milkshakes,” Ingrid declares, after they wrap up.

She’s sitting on the ground while Sylvain is lying flat on his back. Felix and Dimitri are less expressive, but they too look worn. Byleth is unreadable, but she does, at least, look a little winded. She offers a hand to Ingrid, while Felix rolls his eyes and pulls Sylvain up after he complains.

“Dimitri’s buying yours, Byleth,” Ingrid says, and the two in question look surprised.

“Oh,” Byleth says, “I—”

“Allow me,” Dimitri smiles.

Byleth blinks at him.

“Okay,” she says. “Thank you.”

Felix and Sylvain look at Ingrid, who looks smug.

“I’ll buy yours, Ingrid,” Sylvain says, with a discreet salute.

“I’m buying my own,” Felix tells them.

They all fall into step. Byleth politely listens to them squabble all the way to the shop.)

Byleth comes and goes when she wants to, like a cat or a ghost.

On a few occasions she shows up during their group lunches, stealing fries or other sides off of someone’s plate (mostly Dimitri’s), staying only to chat for a few minutes before she is off again. Sometimes she is in the company of her friends—the ones Dimitri met at Dorothea’s party (who he learns are also her suitemates) or Linhardt von Hevring, who seems to be either half-asleep or hyperfocused on his thesis project. Dimitri actually does see her around campus sometimes now, but he does see her friends more than he does her.

“Dunno what to say about that,” Yuri tells him, when he and Dimitri cross paths and are walking the same way to their next classes, “Half the time she’s not in her room and none of us know where she is. She’s always been like that. That’s just Byleth.”

“You’ve known her long?” Dimitri queries.

“Maybe around—five, six years? Constance, Hapi, Balthus, and I banded together after some…unfortunate circumstances. Byleth helped us out of a tight spot during our last year of high school. Stuck with her ever since.”

“I see,” Dimitri says, and Yuri glances at him.

“You’re not bad, Princeling,” Yuri says after a moment. Most people want to pry into the “unfortunate circumstances” and “tight spot” that he spoke of, and Yuri feels more inclined towards Dimitri for not doing so.

Dimitri winces instead.

“It’s just…”

He trails off. Yuri can guess why.

“Ohh. Yeah, okay. I get it.”

Dimitri blinks at him in surprise.

“You do?”

Yuri doesn’t answer that. There’s little he doesn’t know about the people on campus; the Blaiddyd Heir didn’t question Yuri, so Yuri will not question him in turn.

“Byleth’s Byleth,” he says instead, “Count yourself lucky that she makes a point to find you.”

With that, Yuri nods his head and turns into his classroom. Dimitri stands there, mulling over Yuri’s words, before he realizes that he’s running late and dashes to his own class.

There’s a small park nearby that Dimitri goes to as well during the nights he can’t sleep. All it has is a couple of benches and a swingset and a basketball court; a surprising number of people use both during the day, but unsurprisingly, no one’s there at night.

Except Byleth. Dimitri is no longer startled when he comes across her, even though her presence is always more unexpected than not. She’s swinging on the swings, kicking up woodchips as she drags her feet.

“Hi,” Dimitri says, walking closer. “Need a push?”

She nods, and he helps her swing higher. Pretty quickly the height she reaches seems dangerous, but she just calls “higher” and so he keeps pushing, until it seems like she is going to go over the whole set.

“Um,” Dimitri says, pushing her once more, and she glances at him as she surges up.

As she glides forward and reaches the highest point—she jumps.

Dimitri yells, startled, but she soars through the air, serene and graceful with her arms outstretched, hair spreading out behind her. She nails the landing a ways away, and when she turns back to him, she has a faint smile curving her lips, looking—exhilarated.

“You scared me,” Dimitri says, holding a hand over his rapidly beating heart.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, as she walks back to him. “Again?”

He frowns at her. She tilts her head. Something about the way she went through the air—he can’t place that brand of fear. He gives himself a shake, forces a weak smile onto his face.

“Okay,” he says, and she blinks at him a few times before seating herself back on the swing.

She jumps three more times before she’s satisfied, then offers to push him if he wants a turn, or four. He politely declines, but sits on the other swing, and they move back and forth lazily.

“Drink for your thoughts?” she asks after a while, and rummages through her bag that he didn’t see earlier, pulling out a glass water bottle.

Dimitri debates, taking the bottle warily.

“Did Yuri make this?” he asks, shaking it a little, and Byleth smiles at him.

“Constance did,” she says. “It’s pleasant.”

It smells fruity when he opens the top, so he takes her word for it. It goes down easily and doesn’t burn at all, so he assumes (hopes) it’s of the weaker alcohol content variety as well.

“Do you…know what you’re going to do after you graduate?” he asks hesitantly, passing the drink back to her.

Once the question is out, he realizes the truth of it—Byleth will be graduating at the end of this year. The fact saddens him more strongly than he would have thought.

She’s silent for a while, sipping twice from her bottle.

“Yes and no,” she says finally. Opens her mouth as if to speak again, closes it. Turns to him. “You’re thinking about your position as heir.”

“I want it,” he says automatically, then pauses to consider if that’s true. It doesn’t feel like a lie, but…“I…I have never known anything else.”

Byleth looks at him, leans forward a little so that her hair falls forward too.

“That’s okay too,” she says, “To want—or to be okay with—what others want of you, until you don’t.”

He looks back at her.

“How will I know if I don’t?” he asks.

“You’ll know. Or…your friends will be able to tell.” She pauses, swings a little. “It’s hard to say.”

“You seem to have all the answers,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow.

“I’m not sure I really gave you any,” she says.

“That helped, nonetheless,” he says, with a smile. “Thank you.”

She smiles back.

They share the drink between them until Byleth speaks again.

“I avoided your question earlier,” she says.

“Technically you answered it,” he responds, drinking again.

She snorts, and laughs a little. Dimitri feels inordinately proud of himself.

“I’m answering it again, then,” she says, though she pauses still. “I might want to be a teacher. I might want to do what my father does.” She cocks her head. “I’ve been given a lot of choices. Theoretically, I could do anything I want.” She looks at him. “I don’t know what I want.”

Dimitri pauses, holds her gaze.

“It’s okay to not want, until you do?” he tries, and she laughs again.

“Does it work like that?”

“It could,” Dimitri says. “Probably?” He pauses. “You could pick one until you don’t want it anymore.”

Byleth swings.

“It could work like that,” she says with a slight nod. She glances at him. “Thanks.”

He gives her a helpless sort of shrug, not feeling like he really gave her an answer, either. He guesses he understands how she felt just a few moments ago, then.

“Bottoms up,” she says, and drains half of the remaining liquid in the bottle, handing the rest to Dimitri to finish up.

He does so dutifully, and she puts the empty bottle back in her bag. After, she kicks off the ground, swinging higher and higher. Dimitri watches her, then gets up, walking a bit of a distance away. She watches him in turn, then flashes him a sort of sharp smile before she pumps her legs once more for momentum, then sends herself flying.

He gauges the distance, adjusting his position, then catches her as she comes hurtling down.

“Oof,” he says, as their bodies collide and he wraps his arms around her.

“Nice,” she says into his neck, then leans back to look at him.

Oh. She’s so close. His eyes widen as he stares, lips slightly parted; her expression is unreadable, but she isn’t looking away, and he can feel her breath on his skin as she tilts a little closer, his heart beating so fast he swears she must hear it—

He lets her down. His brain immediately starts screaming. Idiot idiot idiot, why did you do that, WHY DID YOU DO THAT??? WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT???

Byleth, for her part, looks unruffled and unperturbed.

“Finals are coming up,” Dimitri says, very smoothly.

She nods, walking back to the swingset to take her bag, slinging the strap over her shoulder.

“If we’re awake, we might as well study,” she says, very seriously.

He follows her out of the park, walks her back to the dorm partway.

“Good night,” she says.

“Good night,” he echoes, and he watches her walk away until he can’t see her anymore.

When she’s out of sight, he squats down and puts his head in his hands.

(He puts himself on trial tomorrow, when his friends are awake. Sylvain and Felix sit across from him, and their gazes are piercing when he recounts the previous night. Ingrid does not sit at the table because she is more inclined to be sympathetic, and moves in the background making a smoothie for herself.

Sylvain wails when Dimitri tells That Part of the story. Felix is silent, just sits there with folded arms and looks so many levels of disappointed, though it’s probably not necessarily just about this one thing.

It’s like that maybe for forty-five minutes, this whole pathetic display. Ingrid leans against the counter, drinks her smoothie, and recounts a play-by-play on her phone into one of her group chats.)

Dimitri does not see Byleth again until they are well into finals week, and he tries not to despair.

“It is finals week,” Mercedes says soothingly.

“And she’s a senior,” Annette adds. “She’s gotta be super busy!”

“Plus, you said you never know when you see her!” Ashe says helpfully, “It’s been longer before, right?”

“But,” Sylvain almost howls, pulling at his hair, “After that? AFTER THAT?”

“Sylvain!” Annette and Ashe scold, but Dimitri feels the same. He doesn’t even have the number so he can apologize, because she always appears and disappears so suddenly that it keeps slipping his mind to ask.

Felix’s frown has grown more severe. Ingrid and Dedue look at each other and back at Dimitri, and say nothing. Mercedes and Annette look at Ingrid almost pleadingly, who gives them a sheepish shrug.

“It’ll be okay, Dimitri!” Annette tries again, and he lets out a sad sort of keen.

“For now, just focus on finals,” Mercedes suggests, “And then maybe it’ll all work out afterwards?”

“It will at least be a distraction,” Dedue finally chimes in.

Dimitri says nothing. Sylvain says it all for him.

Dimitri sees Byleth’s friends around a few times, and though he knows them and they know him, he hasn’t spoken to them very much, so he feels awkward asking after Byleth. Yuri, on the other hand, he knows better, and the boy looks amused when Dimitri (hopefully) casually brings her up.

Yuri has nothing new to share though, except he does insinuate that Byleth is hard at work at finalizing her thesis paper. Dimitri calms a little at that—enough to focus better on his own work later. Yuri gives him a look and pats his shoulder lightly before walking off.

As always, when Dimitri does find Byleth, it’s unexpected.

He’s half dead after finishing his last final, one that took place in one of the more isolated buildings on campus. Pleased that he’s finally done with that, at least, he takes the scenic route back to his dorm—there’s a glass hallway that cuts through a forested area with a river, and it’s especially beautiful this time of year.

As he looks out, movement catches his eye down below, and he’s startled to see Byleth come out from under the old stone bridge and look up at him.

His heart leaps to his throat. She waves, and he waves back hesitantly, and then she motions for him to come down.

Dimitri looks left and right, trying to figure out the best way to reach her, and he goes.

He’s slightly out of breath when he reaches her, and she has a pile of stones in her hand when he does. He blinks at them, meeting her eyes, confused and mildly concerned as to what she might use them for. Is she angry? But she’d waved him down…but was it because she was angry and about to give him a piece of her mind?

“Do you know how to skip stones?” she asks, and it takes him a minute to process.

“I…suppose I’ve never tried,” he admits.

She nods, then proceeds to do so, showing him the method. He watches as she considers the angle, then snaps her wrist as she throws the stone, which skips beautifully across the surface of the river before hitting the other side. Byleth deposits half of the stones into Dimitri’s hand, and they spend the next few minutes skipping stones—or in Dimitri’s case, trying and failing.

He ends up becoming focused on trying to succeed, Byleth keeping him stocked with a steady supply of choice stones. When he finally manages to skip one (though it only skips once before it plops into the water), he shouts in triumph, turning to her excitedly.

“Did you see that?!” he says, and freezes when he catches sight of her face.

She’s smiling, the expression both amused and proud and gentle and absolutely, absolutely mesmerizing.

“It’s nice to focus on things that aren’t exams,” she says, turning back to the river. “You’re all done?”

“Y-yes,” Dimitri stutters. “You too?”

She nods, checking her phone.

“Handed in my last paper yesterday,” she says absently, “Finished up packing up my things today.”

His throat goes dry. It feels like the world is slanting and narrowing to this point, where Byleth leaves and steps out of his life forever (forever?) and this is where it ends.

“Oh,” he says, and it comes out as almost a whisper. He clears his throat nervously. “Oh. I—do you need help moving anything?”

“No, it’s okay,” Byleth says, “I don’t…have too many things anyway. I just wanted to—”

“It would be no trouble!” Dimitri blurts, somewhat frantic. He’s cutting her off, he knows, and it’s stupid to think that if he prolongs the conversation she’ll stay a little longer, but—it’s not exactly wrong, either, is it? “I mean, I’m sure some things would be heavy, and I could—”

She looks a little surprised at his interruption, but blinks it away.

“No, I—”

“It would be faster, probably, but I mean, not that I want you to leave faster—”

“Dimitri—”

“—the opposite, really, but I mean, you’re graduating! That’s exciting, I’m sure you can’t wait to be out of here—”

“Dimitri—”

“You probably have some great summer plans, and I hope you will—”

“Go out with me.”

“Yes, exactly, go out with me, I—what?”

He snaps to attention, thinking surely he must have heard wrong. Despite the fact he was unraveling at the seams, Byleth looks amused, if also a little worried.

“I’m—sorry, could you repeat that?” he breathes, and Byleth shifts her position a little, the movement just slightly unusual.

“Go out with me?” she says again, though it’s pitched more as a question this time.

Oh, Goddess, he hadn’t heard wrong. And…that shifting, the pitch of her tone, was she—nervous?

Dimitri gapes at her and she meets his gaze calmly, though after a prolonged silence she looks to the side, tilting her head down a little as if embarrassed.

“You…can say no, you know,” she says softly, and he blanches.

“No! I mean, yes! I mean—I’d like to go out with you very much,” he says, defaulting to a more formal tone and posture out of desperation.

She looks back up at him and smiles again.

“I’m…glad I didn’t misunderstand your heartbeat last time,” she says, and he both winces and flushes at the reminder of that night.

“I—panicked,” he says, looking away. “But I…regretted it very much, after.”

“I know,” Byleth says.

“You know?” he asks, mouth falling open a little.

She only nods, amused again, but offers no explanation.

“Come here,” she says, motioning for him to lean down.

He does, and she kisses his cheek.

“Hand,” she says, and he obeys mechanically, shocked by that simple action.

Byleth pulls out a marker and scrawls on his wrist. He stares at it incredulously when she pulls away.

“My number,” she says pointedly when he doesn’t say anything. “I do actually have to go, but call me. Or text me. Whatever. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Of…course not,” he says, somewhat in awe. This is happening, it’s really happening.

Byleth looks like she wants to laugh again, but she gives him a little wave and makes her way back up to the building. It takes him too long to recover and realize that he should have walked her back. When he does regain his senses, however, he pulls out his phone, typing out a text as fast as he can.

Can we meet over the summer?

It’s only a few minutes before he receives a reply.

Yes.

Are you free next week?

Yes.

Canitakeyououttuesdayarounclunchtime

There’s a few seconds of pause, and Dimitri suspects she is laughing.

Yes. It’s a date.

He grins stupidly at his phone, rereading the conversation over and over again until he’s satisfied. Then he runs back to his dorm, throwing open the door with wild abandon.

“Guess what!” he shouts into the room, and he’s in luck, because all three of his suitemates are there, each in the midst of something different. Sylvain pokes his head out of his room, Felix looks up from the stove, and Ingrid looks over from the laundry she’s folding.

“Oh, shit, really?” Sylvain says, taking in Dimitri’s expression and also honing in on the number on Dimitri’s wrist. “You finally got her number?”

“We’re dating!” he announces, then pauses. “I mean, well, if I understood correctly, unless she was just—?”

“You’re dating,” Ingrid tells him before anxiety can take him over, grinning widely. “Congrats.”

Felix just waves the spatula in his hand, but he mutters thank the Goddess—about fucking time under his breath.

Sylvain, who is closest, is the first to be subjected to one of Dimitri’s bone-crushing hugs, and even spun around a few times. Felix hisses from where he stands, but is unable to escape being next in line. Ingrid laughs and pats Dimitri’s back when it’s her turn.

“Had a good semester?” she asks fondly.

“It was an excellent semester,” Dimitri says brightly.

“Disgusting,” Felix grumbles, and Ingrid and Sylvain laugh.

Dimitri knocks on the door nervously, trying not to fidget too much as he waits. He doesn’t have to wait long, however—but when the door opens, his eyes go wide.

A man roughly his own height, muscular and rugged with a scar across his cheekbone, a grave sort of face, and an air of someone who demands respect without having to ask for it, stands in the doorway with a large mug in hand.

“Can I help you?” he asks, his voice rough and deep.

Dimitri’s attention goes to the mug for a moment, which he registers reads “World’s Best Dad” in big letters, confirming his assumptions.

“I’m—here to pick up Byleth?” Dimitri manages, and to his relief, Byleth’s father simply nods and turns back into the house.

“By! Your Blaiddyd boy is here!” then, turning back to Dimitri, “Come in.”

He wonders briefly how he knows who Dimitri is on sight; his name might be well known enough, but he tries to stay out of anything where his image might be broadcasted. He steps inside cautiously, then glances at the man again. There’s something strangely familiar about him that he can’t quite place, and it’s not because of his relation to Byleth, because they look nothing alike.

“The kid’ll be a minute,” her father says, “Anyway, I’m Jeralt. Obviously, I’m By’s dad.”

“I’m Dimitri Blaiddyd,” Dimitri introduces, with a weak smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Jeralt just grunts and pats Dimitri’s shoulder in acknowledgement before offering him coffee, which Dimitri accepts out of nervousness. The drink is potent and bracing, without sugar or milk, and Jeralt refills his own mug.

Dimitri peeks at him from over the rim, still trying to figure out why Jeralt is familiar as the man stretches, the multitude of pops and cracks coming from his body making Dimitri wince.

“Don’t get old,” Jeralt tells him, “How reckless you were in your youth doesn’t fuck around when it cashes in.”

“You’re reckless now,” Byleth says as she comes down the stairs. “Cut back on the drinking.”

She’s in a loose blouse and mid-length skirt this time, a pink headband decorating her hair. Every time Dimitri seems her she seems to be sporting a different style. It’s fun.

Jeralt grunts.

“Yeah, well, can’t avoid recklessness in my line of work, and Rhea sure as hell don’t know how to take it easy. Trust me, the drinks are necessary.”

It clicks, then, and Dimitri almost cracks the cup in his hands. He lets out a strangled noise, and both Byleth and Jeralt look at him.

“You’re Jeralt Eisner,” he wheezes, looking to Byleth and back to Jeralt again. “You guard Madam Rhea—you’re the Blade Breaker, Seiros Security’s finest!”

Jeralt drinks his coffee.

“Well, it’s embarrassing to be called that, and also—kid, he didn’t know?”

Byleth shrugs. “Never came up.”

Jeralt sighs.

“Well, there it is, then. Yeah, Rhea and I go…way back, and now I’m in charge of her security company. By’s been trained since she was a kid, so…if you have any issues, she’s got your back.”

Dimitri looks at Byleth, who flashes him a peace sign with a deadpan expression.

“Thank you,” he says, for lack of anything else to say. She nods.

Jeralt looks amused, then waves them off.

“Anyway, have fun or whatever, and bring him back by curfew if he has one, kid.”

Byleth nods, and Dimitri looks back and forth, unable to fully process the information he’s just learned. But Byleth tugs him along, they’re out of the house and in his car before he regains his senses and looks at her.

“Every time I see you, you surprise me,” he says, and Byleth smiles faintly.

“Yuri says a lady cannot reveal her secrets,” she says, “But I think I’d like to start sharing them with you.”

Dimitri blinks at her, surprised, but then smiles.

“I’d be honored if you did,” he says. “There are…things I’d like to tell you as well, in time.”

She nods, looking pleased.

“We’ve got plenty,” she says. “So, where to?”

“There’s a new Duscurian spot that opened up a couple miles away. I was thinking we try it?”

“Lead the way,” Byleth smiles.

Dimitri starts driving. He lets Byleth choose the music and roll down the window; the wind ruffles their hair vigorously and she tries to keep it out of his face for him, which makes him laugh before she just rolls the windows up again.

He knows this is just the beginning, but there’s happiness bubbling up in his chest and a sense of ease and contentment over them both—so what he also knows is that it’s going to be a wonderful summer.

#dimileth #Fire Emblem Three Houses #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #byleth eisner #dimitri x byleth #dimitri x f!byleth #fanfiction #listen there's like no real context and no worldbuilding and the characterization is questionable #BUT i had fun #migraine hit hard today so editing was very cursory rip

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kpopscenario · 5 years ago

Text

Did I stutter? (Part 2)

Pairing: Yunho x Female Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut

Word Count: 16.5k

Summary: Two mafia gangs, enemies to death. And one twisted, dark desire connecting the two.

A/N: Mafia!Au, Shooting, Kidnapping, Slight Gunplay, Degradation, Cursing

___

The second my eyes opened, I felt instant regret. My head hurt like hell, as if I had hit a rock or something. Out of reflex I wanted to check the back of my head but as I raised my arm, or well – wanted to, there was a new problem.

“The fuck”, with a deep frown on i stared down at the black rope that had my wrists tied together. Unable to move out of the tight knot, I kept trying to loosen it which turned out to be both hurtful and pointless. There already were little bruises on my wrists when I gave up untying the knot but I couldn’t care less about the slight pain. The more important point next to my headache was the lack of information I had from the place I had woken up in. It was the first time I looked up and tried to properly scan the moderate big room I had been in.

I had kept in – by Yunho.

A strong feeling in my guts made me press my lips together. Where was that man, why the fuck did he have to kidnap me and what happened to my taskforce. And then fear hit me out of a sudden.

I had let my taskforce behind. Although I had no say in them kidnapping me, I was the one with the responsibility over my team and I didn’t have a single idea what the enemy did to them. Mingi, what did he do once he was outside? The gang member inside the enemy’s bar? The snipers, everyone. Did the mission fail or did we get them?

There was one big question mark in my head as I stared into the empty, silent room. What would Hongjoong think, would he be upset with me? Would he already be looking for me? But…how should he, I didn’t even have a clue where I was. The next thing that went through my head was that I needed to collect all my belongings. Quickly I looked to my side and down my body, I was still wearing my usual uniform but the coat was gone. Other than that, everything seemed in place. But then…where was my gun? I struggled but eventually my hand had reached my waist but there was no gun, nor a belt. Nor the dagger belt!

With wide eyes, I felt slight panic mixed with a growing amount of anger rise up inside of me. Where have they put it? I needed my weapons, without them I didn’t feel whole. I sighed and had to look for them, immediately before this would end really bad for me.

The room had no light turned on but because it must have been noon already again, there was weak sunlight flooding the room, bedroom which it turned out to be. I was sitting on a bed. My eyes kept scanning the room and I figured out that it wasn’t anything too special really. There was a suspiciously big piece of furniture next to the guessed wardrobe, which I recognized as a weapon storage place. I needed to know what was inside there so I collected my shit and ignored the stinging pain I felt in my head as I sat up and then got off the bed. There was a plump sound my feet made against the wooden floor but after staying still for a few seconds, I figured out that nobody heard me so I kept walking towards the furniture, opened the drawers and…

As I had expected, there was an impressive amount of the newest and most effective colts, shotguns, knives and ammunition inside. Everything was neatly put in place and they all seemed as if someone had cleaned those weapons for hours, they wouldn’t be that shiny otherwise. My fingers brushed against the cold metal, those all were familiar weapons to me, nothing wasn’t new. After all, I knew the enemy too well. I had met them more than once, even if it had only been with distance between us. Even if I had only seen them driving past in their dark trucks. I had seen them, observed and analyzed them and their fighting skills. I had heard them giving out commands to their own taskforces. Yunho sounded very stern whenever he talked about business. I had once observed them at a harbor, their ships just arrived and he, the leader of the traffic business missions, seemed to have made it clear that his people wouldn’t want to disappoint him. He didn’t have the most intimidating face I had to say, but he was the type of man that had this certain body language that could completely throw you out of concept.

Those focused, eager but pitch-black eyes and black hair stood in contrast with the pale skin.

Not to talk about their dark uniforms with leather gloves and details I had never seen from too close before. And yesterday I had been a little too busy with trying to escape his shockingly harsh grip than I could have looked at my competitor.

I had no idea for how long I had actually been at the drawer and observed the weapons of the enemy but at some point, I could hear voices. They were quite distant and probably far away from where I was located, however it gave me chills to know that I wasn’t alone. Someone was in here, maybe it was Yunho? Maybe it was someone else or even a whole team. Fuck, where was my weapon when I needed them. Out of reflex, I grabbed one of the colts and managed to slide it in the back of my leather pants. Without the thick coat on, and with tied hands, it would be pure struggle to defend myself but I hadn’t been trained for so many years so I would only function with a gun in my hand. I was able to kick out and give someone a hook on the chin if I used my elbow. I wasn’t helpless at all.

Since it wouldn’t bring me anything to stay in that room, I decided to sneak on the enemy. With cat-like eyes, I looked out on the empty and dark hallway as I carefully closed the door to the bedroom. Every caused sound could have costed my life so I needed every muscle of my body to not fuck this up. Somehow I needed to either sneak out without anyone noticing it or a confrontation was what would happen. And then I had to be ready for everything. But first I needed to get closer so to know how many people I was talking about. As the door behind me was closed, I crouched down slightly and walked a few metres until I came to the end of the hallway, there had to be a living room around the corner since that’s what the voices came from. It wasn’t hard to tell that it wasn’t only one person. There were two, at least. And one of the two voices immediately made my heart pound against my ribcage. It was Yunho giving further orders to someone. While I closed my eyes and was careful that my breathing wasn’t giving me off, I leaned against the wall and listened to them discussing some business.

“Any response from them?”

“No, sir. Hongjoong must have been busy enough to scratch the rest of his people off the street.”

“Good”, Yunho’s cold chuckle and footsteps let my blood freeze. “what he deserves.”

“Sir, how long do you think it will take for them to find her?”

“Oh, let him look for her. It’s pointless anyways before he doesn’t give in and bring us the wanted amount of product. Either he will give us what we want or he can forget about his precious assistant.”

Yunho’s seemingly careless words made me gulp. He was keeping me here as a hostage and wouldn’t give me free unless Hongjoong gave in to some kind of exchange deal? Something in me hated Yunho for letting me feel helpless, I was useless here. Could I free myself? There had to be some way because he was messing with the wrong girl. I was miles away from being dependent on my leader and he was clearly underestimating me. He would regret taking me here.

“Is she already awake?”, as I heard Yunho asking that, I got tense – fuck. I needed to get out of here as fast as possible. But hell, I wanted my weapons back. After debating for a hot minute, I decided to escape. Footsteps were audible but I couldn’t quite assign them to a location. Yunho seemed to be alone again, maybe that was my chance to rush past the living room, hoping somewhere there would be the exit door. After scanning my surroundings again, I carefully stood up. I was about to sprint. Now or never.

But my plan got crushed by something forcefully pulling me back on the collar of my shirt. My breath cut short for a moment, hands instinctively wanting to grab the person but it was impossible with tied wrists to do anything useful.

“Got you! Sir!”, the voice behind me shouted through the hall and dragged my body forward, despite my attempts to kick back or running away. Before I knew, I got pushed into the living room so I almost lost my balance but the person behind me still had my collar in their grip. I growled and knew nothing better than to kick back, successfully hitting the person’s knee. With a yelp, the man let go of me to grab his leg.

“You’re in big trouble, you-”, the man who turned out to be one of the taskforce members of Yunho’s team, the one with the braided brown-purple hair, was giving me a cold glare and seemed ready to go for me. But he got interrupted by the chuckling man in front of us.

“That’s enough, San. I will take over.”

I followed the hurt man’s eyes and directly met the ones of Yunho. He was leaned against one of the column in the wide, expensive looking living room. With his arms crossed, head against the wall. Those black eyes seemed to dig right through me, and I didn’t like how that made me feel tingly. He wasn’t dressed in his usual uniform in which I knew him. The black pants were decently covered with thin and thicker chains, let alone the leather harness that was over a simple black dress shirt. I must have looked over his appearance a bit too long since the next time I met his eyes, there was a decent smirk plastering his face. San was silently leaving the room and then there was complete silence for a moment.

I didn’t quite know what to think or say in that moment. It would be as useless to tell him to let me go than it would be to attack him. With my tied hands I wasn’t too much of a danger. More than sending him a dark glare and pulling in my wrists wasn’t happening from my side. Then his eyes dropped to my hands.

“I did a good job there, I see”, I huffed as a response. Ignoring the pain I got from the sensitive red skin under the ropes as good as I could.

“I don’t need my hands to knock you out and get out of here.”

That’s when he scoffed, showing his white teeth. He pushed himself off the wall and slowly walked around the couch, as if he were taking a walk in the park on a sunny Sunday.

“You won’t go very far if you’ve got the same strategy as yesterday. In two seconds you’ll be against a wall, tied up, and asleep again”, he was now sitting on the couch arm, one leg on the ground, one hanging loose. Eyes on me again but this time I had to look to my feet. What was it about the tall man that made me hate him but flustered me at the same time? This wasn’t usual.

“Try and you will see what happens.”

He sighed, not seeming very convinced of my quiet threat. From the corner of my eye I could see how his hand rose to the side of his torso. First, I didn’t get why but then it hit me. Yesterday. My dagger. I hurt him.

“Seems like the precious assistant isn’t that innocuous?”

That made his dark eyes meet mine in an instant. This time he wasn’t smirking, nor grinning. I must have hit him pretty well given that reaction. 1:0 for me. He seemed like it was bugging him that the hostage had caused so much trouble. It was like I prevented his mission from being flawless and that made me feel more powerful, braver even.

“It’s nothing more than a little scratch. Your toothpicks of daggers couldn’t even hurt a dog”, a frown was plastered on my face when he said that. I could see that he was lying but just wouldn’t want to admit how I had hurt him.

“Give them back to me.”

“What if I won’t?”

The way he was talking to me as if I wasn’t on the same level of intimacy as he was towards me made me sigh out of frustration. He shouldn’t mess with me, he really shouldn’t because when I lost my temper, I wouldn’t hold back. But he was just looking down at me almost casually – the kind of way that made me want to stamp. He only tilted his head in a provocative way.

“I’ve got all the time in the world. I’m not the one in a rush”, I wanted to respond and defend myself but he interrupted me with a shrug. “And Hongjoong won’t rescue you anyways, so better lay back and obey.”

That really threw me out of my mind – what did he just say?

“Excuse me?”

“Did I stutter?”, my lips parted but there was no sound coming out. He was throbbing with confidence I seemed to lose with every second I was standing in front of him, hands tied, standing there like an idiot.

“Why do you think I would obey to someone like you? As if.”

“Look at yourself”, I got chills running down my spine when his eyes travelled down my body. It made me stand straighter, legs pressed together. What was the point in this? Did he try to intimidate me or make me submit…because I hated how some part inside of me screamed for it but everything else screamed at me to stay strong. He just wanted to confuse me. That must be it.

I took a step back, a reaction against being that close to him. He looked up at me again and that’s when he stood up. It was only then when I realized how fucking tall that man was compared to my tiny frame. I barely could look over his shoulder but that view was better than to look up. I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to see how he looked down at me as if I was less. “Am I supposed to be scared of you, huh? Should I be intimidated by your stern look or your pitiful threats?”

He came dangerously close, much more than I was comfortable with. There were only a few inches between him and me so I tried to breathe as quietly as possible. He shouldn’t notice how I was trying to stand still when my insides were basically turning. A few seconds past but it felt like an eternity that he was standing there, doing nothing but to stare down.

“Pathetic, I knew it.”

With a scoff, he walked past me. The second he was out of my sight I closed my eyes and breathed out the air that hadn’t left my body since he stood in front of me. I hated myself for it but the second he spoke up with a degrading undertone, I couldn’t help but slipped into an unfamiliar, odd headspace. Usually, I had no problem with my confidence or with having the power over others, whether it was business related or personal. But this time everything had turned around. Yunho had something that I had never seen in someone else and no matter how stupid that sounded, it was as cheesy as it was true.

I heard his footsteps wandering around behind me, my heart pounding loudly. I wanted to speak up, tell him that he wasn’t winning whatever he intended. I wanted to tell him that I would escape, I would leave this place and him behind, he wouldn’t win. But there was no sound coming out of me. Suddenly the footsteps stopped abruptly. I looked up and blinked, what was wrong, what would he do?

I tried to carefully listen but hell, I wasn’t prepared for him to step close and grab the gun that was put in my pants. Fuck, I had completely forgot about the weapon being there. He pulled it out and apparently checked the ammunition. I pressed my lips together and tried to breathe quietly, would he hurt me? Would he shoot me right here?

“What a clever thing you are, mh?”

A sharp gasp filled the room as I felt the cold metal against my temple. No muscle, not one single one, was able to move now. It was like my body froze to the spot. I didn’t even dare to breathe or turn my head. I felt his presence behind me, he was basically pressed against my backside, the gun held against my head.

“Y-you can’t kill a hostage”, were the only shaky words that I was able to bring out. In hopes of him to have mercy, I had to say something, anything really. But he only pressed the weapon more against my head, forcing a whimper out of my parted lips.

“Oh, you better bet I can”, his lips brushed against my ear, which caused goosebumps to rise on my neck. “I think you keep underestimating me with every time we meet, little one. Do you remember how I slit the throat of that one friend of yours back then? It was at the harbor I believe. Or that one time when I shot that awful shooter right between the eyes? Oh, how you’ve cried. I remember the way you were shaking. I could see how you were breaking, you were weak. You always think that you’ve got that blank face, a careless aura, the one of a true assassin. But look at you now. The little slut is all flustered and turned on.”

The gun suddenly brushed over my cheek, which made me flinch heavily. The coldness of the metal met the heated skin.

“You’re blushing because you like when someone shows you your real position.”

“T-that’s not true”, I whimpered, barely able to stand on my feet after the gun kept wandering down my face, down to my jaw, along the line and stopped on my neck – right on my artery. He could have ended it all, right here and there. The fact that he simply needed to pull the trigger and I would have been gone made my mind get messy.

“No?”, I gulped. “Say that again.”

“It’s n-not true”, I could practically feel my confidence leaving my body. It should be illegal how much he liked seeing me like that. How much he liked to play games with me while I could only stand there and let him do whatever he wanted. Again, I pulled on the ropes, wanting them to finally let me free. It was a bad idea, since now, my wrists hurt even more and caused me to scrunch up my face in slight pain. He must have noticed because he dropped the gun, threw it on the couch and then harshly grabbed my wrists to turn me around in a swift movement. A gasp escaped my open lips as I was practically forced to look up to him, but I just didn’t have the courage to. I didn’t want him to see that he was on the way of winning this game. I tried to get his big hand off mine but he only pulled harsher on the rope, causing me to trip and fall against his chest. He was playing and loved that I could literally do nothing about it. My cheeks were redder than any tomato at that point in time, another reason why I would never look up.

“Then why I don’t believe a single word that leaves that mouth? You can’t even say it in my face.”

“B-“, I didn’t even get the chance to defend myself before his other hand grabbed my chin and harshly lifted it so I had to look into those eyes. The blackness in them was so intimidating that I wanted to turn my head away but he kept bringing me back to the same position, facing him. I wasn’t prepared to see him up-close. I was basically forced to watch his expression which was as blank as it could be. No smirk, no frown. He wanted me to speak up.

He wanted me to tell him something he already knew.

“Say it.”

My eyes widened as the order hit me.

“S-say what-“, I instantly whimpered embarrassingly loud as he moved my chin further towards him. Only inches were separating me from him and it was way too much to handle. How badly did I want to look away, how badly did I want to escape his grip, this game.

“You know what.”

My eyes were slowly becoming glassy, the tension was clearer than ever when it became silent in the room and he waited for me to speak. I knew that he wouldn’t interrupt me this time, he wanted me to say it. But how could I? Everything about this was wrong. Yunho was the enemy, he held me hostage, I shouldn’t be here. My mission was to ruin them. To ruin him, to end him. But here I was, speechless about the power that man held against me. Oddly enough, I noticed how I didn’t even think about how fucked I would be when Hongjoong or any of my gang found out about this scene. I didn’t even cross my mind because all that fitted into my messed-up brain was the two words he wanted me to say. And no matter how hard I tried to prevent them from coming out, he would eventually find a way to force them out of me anyways.

“Use me.”

And then, everything happened very fast.

Yunho didn’t hesitate to crash his lips against mine, which I immediately kissed back. He was eager and it was hard to stick to his pace, especially he let go of my hands and instead held the back of my neck in order not to lose the contact with me. A few muffled whimpers and sighs from my side slipped between the kisses but he stayed focused and completely in control. His big hand wandered through my black hair before suddenly pulling on the very base, making me gasp embarrassingly loud. He didn’t waste any time but rather used the chanced to shove his tongue in my mouth, playing with mine. He was basically sucking the last drip of confidence out of me when he decided to pull on my bottom lip, making me feel his teeth. He repeated this a lot until I grabbed his harness as a way to support myself on my weak knees. Without stopping the make-out, one of his hands slipped down my side and grabbed the rope again. But this time, he suddenly let go of me and dragged me with him.

Like a fucking dog on a leash.

I almost tripped more than once because my legs were on the verge of giving in but he didn’t seem a need to slow down. He pulled me down the hall that I went through earlier, into the familiar room. He didn’t even let go when he closed the door – was he scared that I would run away? Now? To escape was the least thing I wanted to do in that moment. With big eyes I looked up to him but he didn’t talk, he didn’t look at me, nor did he give any instructions. Once the door was locked, he walked to the weapon storage, which was an unexpected move. The blood in my veins froze once more today, what was he thinking? I lightly pulled on my rope, trying not to stand too close to him as he looked through the drawer. Maybe his only intention was to end me? Was I stupid to have fallen for him that fast? Maybe I really was a brainless mess at this point.

“N-no…please”, slipped out of me, which caught his attention and made him look up at me. At this point, I must have looked like a puppy-eyed creature, not at all like a savage assassin anymore. Without looking at me, he took one of the freshly sharpened knives out of the drawer and closed it again. With a flip, he smoothly played with it while still holding me with one hand. My eyes kept changing from his face to the knife in his hand and he must have noticed since he sighed and stored it in the back of his pants.

“I won’t slit your throat if you think that…for now”, the last part made me panic and I pulled on the rope again but instead of pulling me back against his chest, Yunho used the force I was using and effortlessly made me fall on the bed, caused by my own action. With a soft huff, I landed on my back as he let go of the rope. It was almost embarrassing how easy it was for him to get what he wanted. With wide eyes I looked up at him, waiting for what he had planned next. But he only nodded towards the headboard of his bed and then dropped those black eyes back on me.

“Shift, arms above your head.”

I hesitated a moment, got lost in the way he almost sounded soft when giving that order, but when I saw how he impatiently rose an eyebrow, that thought was soon gone and I tried to shift. But there was a problem.

“And how am I supposed to do that with no hands to use?”

For a second he didn’t do anything, probably realizing his own mistake. But before I could even try to shift, he climbed on the bed himself, grabbed my body on the hips and with one smooth movement, I was lying in the new position. He was definitely strong, fuck. And how effortlessly it looked when he used his strength. I was slightly startled by his action but didn’t have more time to drift off since Yunho packed my wrists and pressed them in the pillows. Instantly, I arched my back and was breathing louder. He was hovering over me, knees placed on each side of my waist. As I was looking up into his eyes again, I felt a wave of curiosity overcome me. What was he planning on doing? He answered that question pretty quickly after as he leaned down and kissed me again, this time even more eagerly than before. It was hard for me not to be totally vocal just yet when he was holding my hands down with that big hand, had the other roaming up and down my side and kissed me like there was no tomorrow.

How badly I wanted to touch him too.

How badly I wanted to roam my hand through the black hair, across his neck or down that body.

I wanted to pull on that harness he was wearing.

The desperation alongside breathlessness was slowly rising the longer he went on to suck my tongue, bite or to sloppily lick over the outlines of my plump lips. Eventually, my eyes opened and I wanted to speak up but he had different plans. Within a second, his lips were attacking my neck, he was digging his face underneath the collar and placed wet kisses all over my sensitive. Tingles made the skin get covered with goosebumps, chills were running down my spine. I wanted to lower my hands in order to hold the back of his head but his hand immediately pressed the rope into the soft pillows again, which caused me to whine out loud. He stopped the kisses and between some licking over the freshly made bruises, he was mumbling, hot breath against my skin.

“No touching for you, slut. Wait for your turn. Understood?”, I was beyond dissatisfied with his careless answer so I kept whining and shook my head, making it hard for him to continue creating hickeys. At one point he just had enough. His patience was hanging on a thin string, which took a lot usually. He raised his head and looked down at me, his free hand eventually found its way to my throat. And I swear, the second I looked up into his eyes while feeling his hand on my throat, I instantly stopped with my whining. It was like a button that he needed to push to make it impossible for me to be bratty.

“Y-yes.”

I had seen Yunho going off before, and every time I did, I got me the same kind of feeling.

Every time I had seen him exchanging heated words with someone in a calm voice and then, a second later, he snapped their neck.

Every time he got threatened and then shot the man in the head without flinching.

Every time he hopped off their car, walked towards his enemy with the blankest face and then ended their lives without changing a single expression.

Every time I had seen him lose his temper like that, I realized once more how dangerous that man was. And this moment right here felt exactly the same. I didn’t know what he would do if his patience was gone completely and that was what scared me but made me press my legs even further together at the same time. He was unpredictable, instinctive, he was the definition of a loose cannon.

Apparently, my answer wasn’t satisfying enough since I suddenly felt an increased pressure on my throat, which made me hiss, my back was completely arched.

“Speak up, slut.”

“Y-yes”, I stumbled, a bit louder this time. The pressure against my neck didn’t disappear yet, which made me look between his eyes with slight desperation.

“Yes, what?”

“Y-yes, I understood. I’ll wait for my m-my turn.”

He hummed at that and then let go of my throat. It was weird how I almost felt empty without it, I wanted him to choke me again but Yunho was already starting to eagerly unbuttoning my shirt. I gulped as I just let him do whatever, I wouldn’t complain – the opposite happened. I looked at his skilled hands working fast, however not fast enough for my liking. I whined and slightly bucked up my hips.

“Hurry up”, his eyes quickly landing on me made me shut up again. “P-please.”

“That’s how I like it. Beg for the things you want instead of whining around like an impatient piece. Not too difficult, no?”, I nodded with a slight pout on my lips. Thankfully he had unbuttoned my shirt soon and exposed the black lingerie. His eyes thoroughly scanned the dark fabric, for a little too long since I was already getting impatient again. I arched my back more and shifted underneath him, as some sort of sign to him to hurry the fuck up. Luckily, he then leaned down and kissed a path south, not too slow and with exactly the right amount of eagerness. My eyes fluttered close but when he reached the waistband of my pants, I just had to look at what he was doing. Within seconds, my pants and boots were lying on the floor in a random corner. Out of sight was out of mind as he looked up at me from between my now bare legs. When his big hands roamed up and down them while he checked if I still had my hands above my head, I bit my lips, my eyes were glistening at that point in time. For a moment, we were just staring into the other’s eyes, the room only filled by heavy breathing.

“H-how come that you’re still fully dressed?”, I then needed to ask, my voice sounded way poutier than I intended to. It made him chuckle quietly before he reached down his torso where the straps to unbuckle the harness were placed. I was so impatient but I didn’t even care anymore. He should lose those layers how he did it with me. While unbuckling the few straps, his eyes were still on me, which sent shivers down my spine once more. There just was something in that glance that made me feel things on a different level.

“Because I’m the one in charge, remember?”, his cocky response made me scoff and roll my eyes. Did he really change from stern to cocky just like that? I knew that his confidence was high but Yunho dripping in that sureness hit differently.

“Yeah, right”, I brought out in an impressingly clear voice. If he wanted to tease, I could play the same game. “There’s a lot of talking but where are the actions?”

Apparently, me being a bit braver wasn’t something he expected to happen that suddenly. Based on the way he was looking at me with a raised eyebrow, I took him aback at least for a second before he collected himself again. Without saying anything, he got rid of the heavy looking harness. It hit the floor with a loud sound but he didn’t flinch a bit. He then went on and unbuttoned his own shirt, pulled it off and there we were – Yunho kneeled in front of me, shirtless. The first thing that caught my eye was the bandage around his lower torso. The dagger. He seemed to notice how I bit my bottom lip since he rubbed over the rest of his chest before speaking up.

“Maybe it was a bit more than a simple scratch.”

“I told you not to underestimate my skills, you’re not the only one that can handle a sharp knife.”

“Ah yeah?”, my expression slightly dropped when he pulled out the sharp knife from the back of his pants and provocatively played with the tip of it. Based on how well it was sharpened, it could easily bruise him but he seemed to know what he was doing. And that fact made me worry on the inside. “Are you sure about that? Should I show you how good I’m with a knife in my hand?”

When he then slowly leaned down, placed one hand right besides my head and was much closer to my face with that knife, my breathing instantly got louder and more panicked. My body was stiff again and I didn’t feel like doing a wrong movement. Again, Yunho could just end it all.

“Yunho, stop playing, please”, the words just rushed out of me when he came even closer, the sharp tip dangerously close to my cheek. At one point, I even squeezed my eyes shut out of panic. I couldn’t speak up anymore, the panic overtook. I didn’t know what he was planning on doing. When I suddenly felt him shifting quite fast, I loudly whimpered and had the urge to make myself tiny. But when I felt the rope around my wrists getting loose the next moment, I opened my eyes again. With clear surprise and disbelief, I lowered my freed hands and rubbed my lightly bruised wrists. The whole point of that knife was to free my arms? I stared up at him but there wasn’t much time before his lips landed on mine once more. And this time, maybe because of the adrenaline, I sunk deeply into the kiss. In no time, I cupped his cheeks, then grabbed the hair on the back of his neck, pulled on it while the other hand dug into his exposed shoulder. I soon lost track of time and almost missed out when he unbuckled his belt and then got undressed completely.

“We’re even now”, I mumbled with a shaky voice but gasped when he suddenly ripped the shirt off my body – finally, I thought. Now that I could move my arms, I unclasped my bra and threw it away as soon as he gave me the space to. His eyes lingering over my chest was everything I needed right then. Soon, his hands cupped my breasts and started kneading them, a little too harsh but I actually loved it. I wasn’t used to be dominated like he was doing it now so the pain that I felt changed into pleasure way faster than I had expected. My breathing was shakier when his tongue suddenly ran over the sensitive nipple between his fingers. I arched my back and pushed him down even more, wanting to feel him all over me. He even teased them with his teeth, fuck, Yunho really knew what to do to make me submit. Even if I had my troubles to accept the circumstances- to be in bed with the enemy – I felt myself falling for him harder and faster than I intended. It was like I locked the rational thoughts away and got rid of the keys.

I hated to admit but my breast held in those hands and kissed by those lips felt really fucking good and made me whimper louder and louder, which turned out to make him get affected too. Before I knew, his thigh pressed down against my core. An embarrassingly loud moan made him chuckle, I only felt my cheek heat up.

“Someone seems to like that”, he kept repeating that actions over and over, riling me up in the right way but at some point, I craved more than just a leg against my clothed middle. So I slid my hands down his sides and lightly leaned my forehead against his.

“I need more, p-please.”

I ignored the fact that I had just begged him for something, it felt oddly satisfying. Hell, what was happening with me.My thoughts got interrupted as Yunho put more pressure against my clothed middle with his strong thigh. Someone seemed to enjoy teasing me like that, I thought as I looked at him with a shaky sigh. Out of pure desperation, I grabbed his slim waist and pulled him down against me. He wasn’t the only strong one here. Skin against skin. Bare legs brushing against others. My actions seemed to affect as both as I heard him grunting in my ear. The tingling feeling between my legs only increased as he was now completely pressed against me.

“Fuck, Y-”

I got interrupted by him shifting around. As I looked down, I realized that he was getting rid of my panties. His actions were so sudden and fast that I didn’t even have time to really say anything against it (as if I had complained). I could feel my skin tingling as he left me completely naked underneath him. In no time, he spread my legs more so cold air hit my middle and left me whimpering. He got between them once more but didn’t initiate anything such as finally taking me. Like a good slut. I would behave for him, eventually. He had already worked me up way too much and now he didn’t give me what I wanted? My expression got even more desperate, I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him down but he once again seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

“We don’t have to rush”, his words made me frown. Excuse me? Why all of a sudden did we have to take it slow? I was on such a rush on the inside that I would have jumped him if he wasn’t on top of me.

“B-but”, he shook his head and freed himself from my arms as he moved south. Still with those eyes on mine. I wanted to say more but something about the way he got down on me was making my lips locked. Yunho just shook his head again before he stopped. And just like that, my expression dropped. Just like my heart. He wouldn’t…

“One more whine and I will stop. Take it like an obedient slut. Is that clear?”, the way he said those words was a mixture between stern and soft due to his rather collected voice. Next to me, he really seemed the one in control whereas I already was ready to be taken as a brainless thing. I gulped loudly as he leaned down more but his eyes were still on me, waiting for an answer. And something told me that he wouldn’t do shit if I didn’t respond to him with the right words. So I tried to get a clear sentence out as I gave in and took the challenge.

“Y-yes, sir. I’ll be obedient.”

And that’s when the hard part started.

After he set my feet on the soft mattress, neatly spread, he lied his body down. Yunho firmly wrapped his arms around the base of my thighs before he set the first kiss on my heat. And fuck, this would be hard. I could already feel the urge to whimper out loud – whether it would be his name or another desperate plead. Whatever it would be, I wanted to get vocal. He basically made it impossible to stay quiet. The way his nose then rested on the spot right above my clit as he started to work me up in rather eager and passionate way made me throw my head back, fully surrounded by the pillows. His lips felt so soft against me, and when I closed my eyes, the tingling sensation seemed to multiply by thousand within seconds. The next few moments felt like an eternity. I felt every little brushing of his fingertips. I felt his hot breath making me even wetter than I had been anyways. I felt his how strands of hair tingled my tummy. But the most intense thing I felt was when his flat tongue made its way over my folds, only to tease the pounding clit. Everytime he did that, I was so close to just ache my back and moan that cursed name out loud. And he seemed to notice. That one time when I dared to peek down, our eyes met and I stared right into that darkness. There was something about the way he looked at me. It wasn’t like a normal human being would look at someone else. It was like a hunter taking one last stare at the poor prey that was totally helpless. Seconds before it would get wrecked by the dominant part. And that’s how it felt when he pulled my legs further apart, his nails digging into my flesh which almost made me whimper. But I could bite my lip in the very last moment.

Somehow I always senses when Yunho was lifting his eyes in my direction. But I didn’t dare to risk another glance. This was the hardest game I had ever been trapped in so I didn’t want to lose embarrassingly fast. The feeling I received from his tongue working wonders on my sweet spot told me that this game wasn’t for me to win. And something told me that he was familiar with that fact as well.

However, when he pushed his face deeper against my skin, pressed my thighs closer to him and started to eagerly suck on my clit, it was over.

A loud, shaky whimper filled the room and left an embarrassingly long echo. As if my action could erase what had just happened, I squinted my eyes even more and stiffened up. Every muscle of my body seemed to be under pressure right now. My cheeks couldn’t feel hotter than in that very moment when I felt him stopping. He just…stopped. Without further hesitation, nothing. It was over and a cold shiver ran down my spine. I was so damn close to an orgasm and so I opened my eyes and to my surprise stared into those black ones. He was still holding my thighs in a tight grip – a grip I could have never escaped out of. Something about the energy around him, something about the fact that he didn’t speak up, didn’t joke and didn’t scold me, made me slip even deeper into subspace (if that was even possible). Was he waiting for me to say something? Why should he wait, he was the one in charge.

A deeply confused pout appeared on my heated face as I waited for anything. A sign maybe. But he just raised one eyebrow and tilted his head a little. A simple action that almost made me cum right on the spot.

“Y-You…stopped..”, I could consider myself proud that I managed to get somehow understandable words out, given that intense glare he gave me.

“And why do you think that is?”, there it was. I was the one to answer that question myself. As if my cheeks could get even hotter, I felt new heat spreading all inside my body.

“B-because I have broken a rule?”, needless to say, that was exactly what he wanted to hear. It turned me on even more to know what he wanted. I knew what was going on inside his brain – but still he wasn’t making it that easy for me. I couldn’t help myself from shifting around a bit. This was torture. He didn’t seem as if he’d cut me off completely but yet he still didn’t just continue. Hell, he was right above my core – he could have just leaned down and made me cum in seconds. What else did I need to do? The single fact that he took so long to show any kind of reaction made me whine. But this time embarrassingly loud. Like the needy slut I was. “P-please, for fuck’s sake – do something!”

Too embarrassed to look up at him, I stared at the ceiling and tried to make the tingling feeling last as long as possible. I tried not to say anything else because I knew damn well that from now on, I would only sound needier and more frustrated the more I talked. It was a trap.

But then, when I just couldn’t act all tough anymore, I risked one gaze. And to my shock, he had that cocky grin plastered over that attractive face again. And that’s when it hit me.

He wanted me exactly in this situation. Right there, he had me trapped. He was in charge and it was the end of me acting against it.

Unconsciously, I tried to please him in any way he wanted. I was willing to be his toy if that meant he would take me finally. I had had enough teasing and breaks, I wasn’t gonna act up anymore. With a soft whimper leaving my closed mouth, I bucked my hips up, widening my eyes when I saw how I hit his mouth with my body. The accidental touch even made me shivering.

I was trapped under those pitch-black eyes, and since I really had nothing on my mind but him at that point in time, I could as well risk it all.

“I’ll be a good slut for you, sir…please end me. It’s a-all I’m asking for.”

“Took you quite a while to be obedient, mh?”, Yunho spoke in such a low, mumbling tone that I instinctively wanted to close my legs but it was impossible. With him spreading my legs even more, I was literally trapped. There was no reason I would try to get away from his grip anymore. He had put me in a certain space I knew I wouldn’t get out that easily. Meant that I leaned back down into the pillows, arched my back beautifully and almost broke out in tears the second I felt that sinful tongue on me once more. I swear to God, this time felt different. He didn’t give me any time to adjust to his fast pace, the opposite happened. Totally breathless, desperately gasping for needed air, I became a complete wreck underneath his tongue technology. His grip on my soft thighs was getting tighter by time and made me whince but hell, I couldn’t care less about the pain. Oddly enough, that pain felt better than any pleasure. I wanted more of it. I knew that I would be covered in bruises by tomorrow and I actually lived to see my body in a mirror soon. A masterpiece, all painted by Yunho.

Once the knot in my lower region was getting more prominent than ever, I desperately searched for somewhere to dig my fingers in. Eventually, I found those broad shoulders and pulled them down towards me. The impressive force that woke with me soon coming to a collapse was only semi-aware to me. All I cared about right now was Yunho’s tongue, and his long fingers pounding into my dripping core.

“C-close!”, I whined around - a really pathetic sound leaving my mouth as I knew I couldn’t hold it any longer. Desperately I shifted around underneath him, and even moaned when our eyes met. There was something different about the way he stared up at me, while his fingers were still working on my shaking body.

“Cum for me, slut. Now.”

He didn’t even have to say that twice. It was the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced, in all those years, nobody had the power over my body that he had that night. The way he kept throwing orders at me and I slipped deeper into subspace with every one of them. My whole body was aggressively trembling, especially since he didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping pounding his fingers inside of me – even after I had cum all over them. With teary eyes and heavy breathing, I watched him doing his work on me, without any sign of exhaustion. Fuck, what was he doing?

Once the orgasm had rolled over me completely, it was more tempting to shift underneath him again, the overstimulation hit me unexpectedly – something I really didn’t see coming. Again, loud whimpers and exhausted whines as he stared up at me, apparently reading out of my face. Was he planning….he wasn’t planning on making me cum a second time, right?

“It’s … t-too much, Yunho”, I desperately hit his shoulders harder the longer I felt the additional sensation. “Yunho, stop!”

I threw my head back as he simply smirked at me, locked eyes on me. He was loving this game so much, maybe a little too much since I was starting to completely lose my mind once again. I pushed his shoulders, tried to push his chest away from me and even tried to kick my legs out of his grip. It was all helpless. He was the one deciding whether I could get free or not. It was all in his hands. As his fingers pounded into in an even faster pace and with less mercy on the tight knot in my stomach, he suddenly leaned over my small frame, now caging me underneath him. I hated how his face was only inches from mine, his torso brushing against mine as my trembling body kept moving up and down. Without having to look up into those eyes, I knew that he was scanning my expression. He was eating it all up. I threw my head to the side, afraid of him chuckling at the pitiful face that was so close to his. My cheeks were literally burning at that point.

“Look at this. Pathetically trying to escape. Not able to take the extra sensation, a little overstimulation already is enough for the slut? A pity. Maybe I should stop completely then? If you can’t even take the treatment properly…And you better use the right name for your dom next time you open that dirty mouth.”

Alone the tone he used, talking down on me without any sense of sympathy in his voice, my body was trembling even harder. It got hard to breath, if he was so damn close to my face. But what I could do was shaking my head, with a deeply frustrated expression on my face.

“D-don’t stop, I can bear through it! I’m strong, Yunho don’t stop, Yunho please, I-“

I couldn’t even finish the sentence since within a second, I got turned over. Face down into the pillows was the position I had found myself in after having felt his strong hands on me. My pathetic attempts to escape that new position were useless the moment I felt him kneeling behind me. Not being able to know what he was doing back there made my body shake heavily. Eventhough I wasn’t physically trapped underneath him, I knew better than to fight against him right now. His mindset wasn’t easy to read so he could completely rip me in two in one moment and brush hair out of my heated face the other. I could hear my heart loudly pounding as I registered a lack of physical presence by the male. The hell was he doing? I was tempted to look back but the second I wanted to, I got hit by a sharp, stinging pain.

A loud gasp echoed through the room as I had the urge to curl up or at least rub over the aching spot on my ass.

“What-”

Another spank,

another whimper.

“That’s the only thing bad sluts deserve. Do you even know why you’ve been bad? Mh?”, he was using that tone again on me. Like I was nothing but a disappointment. As if I was nothing more worthy than a doormat to step on. But honestly, if he wanted to step on me, I would thank him in a thousand ways possible.

His big hand on the already hot sensitive skin made me hiss sharply. My eyes were squeezed shut as I bared through five more spanks without having to shift. But after he had lifted his hand once again, I loudly gasped and lied on my side, desperately needing a break while unconsciously loving the tingling flesh. I only heard a cold chuckle from behind, which made me feel even tinier.

“I-I have learned my lesson, sir. S-sir, not Yunho…It’s Sir, I’m so sorry! I won’t repeat the mistake ever again…please, have mercy and just-”

“And just what, mh?”, all of a sudden, the black-haired man was hovering on top of me, just like that. His presence was clearer and more evident than anything else. He had his arms on either side of my shoulders, supporting his weight and caging me at the same time. One knee was right underneath my exposed ass, and the other one was caging my waist in between both legs. I had no chance of moving like that, except for desperately wrapping my hand around his wrists to have something to hold on to.

“Just finally fuck me. W-wreck me, sir.”

My fingers dug into his wrist as I suddenly felt his knee grinding against my core. He didn’t tease this time, he was eager. The pressure of the grinding made me whimper louder, I arched my back but to my surprise, I collided with his warm chest. He pressed himself even closer by then, he didn’t even left space between our bodies, not one bit. I was actually caged and being in this position made me think of me as nothing but a little slut for the man behind me. Soon, he started to grind in a certain rhythm. He was doing it while low grunts left his lips and echoed through the rooms, in sync with my high-pitched whimpers. If he continued rubbing himself against me like that, I would just cum a second time, without him even having fucked me. That thought made me shift more underneath him, as I pressed core slightly against him.

“P-please, sir…Fuck me already. I-I…I need you so bad it hurts…”

My face was completely heated up as I heard my own pathetic sounding stutters leaving my lips, in hopes to finally get what I had been begging for ages now – at least that’s how it felt. Luckily, Yunho seemed to have gotten enough pleasure at teasing me since the knee was gone the next second and left me with nothing but cold air. It made my body tremble – the loss of touch made me crave him even more. It was like he was my drug and I was hooked on the feeling. And hell, how bad I finally wanted him to wreck me.

“Enough begging for tonight, don’t you think that the slut deserves a treat now?”, the voice right at my ear made me shudder. How come that a simple sentence like that affected me so much now? But instead of thinking more about it, I nodded my head like the needy slut I was and turned my head back, so I could look at what he was doing. To my shock, I watched him reaching for a condom from his nightstand. The little plastic wrapping soon was torn apart and put onto his throbbing length. A sight that I could get used to. Our eyes only met for the split of a second before Yunho was all over me again, knees now spreading my trembling legs, that I wanted to close by instinct. But this was impossible. As much as I would try to work against his position, I wouldn’t stand a single chance at making him lose his balance. He seemed impossible to get out of his concept right now and this only made him hotter. Sooner than I knew, I felt the cold tip of his cock on my entrance, not teasing me anymore. It seemed like he had had enough of it as well. Based on how fucking hard he felt, he had tortured himself before with that slow pace. But now the dynamics seemed to have changed for good. This was it.

An embarrassing loud whimper escaped my lips as the tip was shoved into my core, luckily the wetness was enough to make him practically slip in without problems. Instead of taking his time with inserting, there was one hard thrust until he was fully inside of me. One single thrust that already made me see stars.

“H...f-fuck-!”, it wasn’t to anyone’s surprise that my legs were about to give in already after he had slowly pulled out but right back inside. Finally, the room got filled with deep grunts and curses from the man on top of me, slowly he started to pick up a pace. It was quite fast given that he hadn’t given me any time to adjust to size and length. I hated how much I had to shift around when he had just started fucking me. The affect he had on me shocked me but was electrifying at the same time. As my toes curled up and my hands gripped the bedsheets desperately, I felt his body pushing against me with every thrust.

Skin slapped against skin.

Hot panting thickened the air.

Eyes kept fluttered close as I just couldn’t keep them open once Yunho started to pound into me.

“That’s what you deserve, mh”, I gasped as his lips brushed over my neck so suddenly. He was now laying on top me, nothing would have fitted between our bodies. I was pressed into the mattress and my face into the ocean of pillows. As I wanted to shift around with my arms, he suddenly put his hands on top of mine, intertwined our fingers and made sure my hands would be pinned down. Now he had full control over me, the realization hit me once again. My shaking body underneath his, his lips on my neck, slipping out teasing words that would seriously get me even more turned on that I already was. Before I knew, I felt teeth nibbling on my sensitive skin, making me have the urge to hide my shoulder from him so it wouldn’t tickle that much. As he went on and spread my whole shoulder and neck with hickeys, I thought about how hard it would be to hide them. They would be everywhere, a constant reminder of what happened here. Soft whimpers escaped my lips as he shamelessly was fucking me, grinding his body on top of mine while creating deep purple hickeys.

His hips rolling against mine, causing him to pound into me the deepest he could possibly go. With all of that combined, it was impossible for me to stay quiet, not even one bit could I keep my mouth shut. Soft, frustrated and shaky pleads, cut whimpers and loud panting sounded muffled against the pillows.

“Right, slut? You don’t deserve more than getting that pussy fucked real good. I’m gonna wreck you until you can’t walk for days, weeks. Everywhere you go, you’ll get reminded of me. You’ll get reminded of this…here. Me fucking you so well that you will be having troubles catching your breath. In the office, in a meeting with your boss – you will feel your sore ass. Everyone will notice your weird walk. And they will all want to know who has fucked you this good that you’re affected days after the accident. They want to who did this to you, who could easily dominate the usual tough girl. There’s only one problem with that. Well, you can’t tell them, little one. Got it? Have you understood what I’ve just told you?”

“I-…y-“, there was no way I could build a real sentence right now, the constant pressure of his harsh thrusts took every space of my brain, I couldn’t help but to whimper after every single thrust. This seemed to bother the grunting man behind me, as I soon felt a strong arm around my throat. The gasp that left my lips by then was loud yet muffled since he applied pressure, literally choked me with his arm while fucking me into the mattress. His face was so close that his nose pressed into my cheek. He could have just kissed me straight away but he was waiting for my answer, I knew his behavior by now. He stared down at me, letting me hear his heavy breathing.

“I haven’t heard an answer yet, so? Slut, you shouldn’t let me wait if I want something. Or else I guess the slut needs another round of spanking?”, right then, an especially harsh thrust hit my g-spot and made tears shot into my eyes.

“N-no! No….I won’t tell anyone a-about us… I swear, Yu-…Sir, I swear!”, I sounded so fucking pathetic, what had he turned me into? “I won’t, I promise!” It was the biggest challenge to keep talking while Yunho was constantly pounding into me, thrusts fast and merciless.

“Not even to Hongjoong?”, he then moaned into my ear, causing me to cry out louder than before. His thrusts were constantly harsh and impressing fast, so I didn’t even had time to catch my breath for a hot second. I needed to answer him, I was very well aware of that but how could I when he fucked me like that? Of course, he did it on purpose to test me, there was no doubt about that. Some time was passing, the pressure became more real and I just stumbled over desperate words.

“N-no, not even to him, I won’t tell anyone! I will keep it a-a secret!”

Yunho once again hummed into my ear and then started to slow his pace slight down, only to grind into me. He was as deep as never before which caused my whole body to move under his. I felt his strength pushing me for- and backwards, my frontside was getting tingly from all the times I was rubbing against the sheets. The whimpers only got louder and eventually turned into soft cries.

“Glad to hear that. And little one? I will know when you tell anyone. The information will come to me, believe me. So don’t even try to fool me. It won’t turn out well for you. Understood?”

“Y-yes!”, I cried out and felt how there was a knot in my stomach that’s been getting tighter and tighter, causing me to literally drip over him the longer he fucked me into the mattress. I felt every single motion, I felt him slipping out and shoving back in even harsher. Everything. “S-sir? I-I’m so close already…”

There was a slight pause before I heard the male chuckle lowly into my ear, once again, tingles rose on my whole body. I was getting embarrassingly hot again, why was I already close to my second orgasm? Yunho really knew how to tease one and then get them on cloud nine without even blinking twice.

“Already close? How pathetic is that? Please”, the way his voice wasn’t more than a vibrating hum against me neck already pushed me closer to my orgasm. His words only made me want to bury my face into the pillows even more. Luckily, some strands of my black hair covered some parts of my face from him.

“V-very pathetic, I-I know….but please-”, a cold shiver ran down my hot body as he hit a specific spot inside of me that cut off my sentence completely. I was so damn close and he was fucking me so well. With so much eagerness, power holding me in my place as his slut while his lips on my neck drove me mad almost.

I was his and he was mine, at least in that moment.

“Cum for me, slut.”

When I felt like coming any second because of how sharp his thrusts suddenly got, his face suddenly distanced from my neck – and left me cold. But to my surprise, his hand around my throat rose my chin, and seconds later, his lips laid on mine. The kiss ran me like a river. It was eager and messy, tongues fighting for some kind of power even if he was the clear winner anyways, but on the other side, I felt some kind of deeper devotion. It was like I was fully his, there was nothing else but him in my head right now. Everything seemed to blurr, even the fact that I was getting pounded into. Time seemed to stand still – even if it was only for a second, it felt like an eternity.

That was until I loudly whimpered into open-mouthed kiss, and came all over him.

My body was a trembling mess under his as he kept shoving in and out, in order to chase his own orgasm which didn’t seem too far away either. At this point I couldn’t keep quiet, thank God all the members of his taskforce were out of the house because they would clearly had heard us. Unable to beg him to cum inside of me, I just pressed my forehead against his, dug my nails into his wrists and even tried to push back to meet his thrusts. And apparently, it worked. Sudden loud gasps and curses slipper over those pinkish lips as I kept repeating the movement.

“Y-Yunho, cum”, I managed to get out as he seemed on the peak of his power. I wanted nothing else than him losing some of this untouchable attitude, he seemed in control all the time, but now I wanted to see that special expression in his eyes when everything would get over him like a wave. With my last power, I pushed back at him with more force, causing him to hit me deep. And that was the final thrust he needed.

“F-fuck, fuck”, with the clearest voice he had used yet, he locked his hips with mine, didn’t thrust back anymore but shot his load into the condom. I could feel his body trembling, vibrating against my back. His loud panting mixed with mine for a long minute before he rolled off me. It looked like his whole power, the one which he was drooling in before all of this in the bedroom happened, left his body. He had used it all on me, and it showed. I was completely uncapable to move from my position, he didn’t even need to pin me down anymore. As the weight lifted from my slim body, I felt lighter as never before. Nevertheless, I already missed the warmth that had surrounded me all that time. As I was trying to control my breathing to a steady rhythm again, I heard something getting thrown into a metal bin. Then it was silent- if you ignored the heavy breathing.

The silence brought back the thoughts that filled up my whole brain before Yunho threw me on the bed. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one to do some thinking now.

“What have we done”, Yunho didn’t seem upset, yet he didn’t sounded incredibly amused either. Actually, he was back at being hard to read. I never knew what he was thinking before and now I felt as if he went back to that mysterious behavior. It made me turn around, I was now facing the man who had a slight blush on and some strands of sweaty hair stuck to his forehead. Somehow he had never looked better than right now. Somehow…vulnerable. Touchable, not so distant. It seemed like I had been staring for too long since he suddenly turned his head and face me as well. When our eyes met, we both started chuckling. Whatever it was that was amusing, we both were on the same ground.

“I have no idea”, I stated, the first time in a steady voice again. It made me grin even more, don’t ask me why. Just the simple fact that we had hated each other for…forever, still there always had been that tingly feeling in my stomach whenever we had interacted. And it led us to here, in his fucking bed. And now, after degradation, rough treatment and total ecstasy, we looked at each other and giggled like the best friend in the world. “This is so twisted, and confusing! How did it even come to this…ah”, I sighed and looked at the ceiling for a while. Actually, I didn’t regret being with him one bit. Maybe regret would hit me on the way home, when I cursed at the sky for my soreness or when I had to face the struggle of hiding dark marks. But right now? Not one bit of it. I smiled to myself and then turned my head back towards him, only to see him having already looked at me, with a sheepish but genuine smile. It was so odd and rare to see Yunho like this that I blushed.

“W-what is it?”, his only answer was a shrug.

“You’re cute when you’re blushing.”

40 notes · View notes

hecohansen31 · 5 years ago

Note

Tinder date anon here (again!): write more please!

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

Ahhh can you believe that a few days ago I literally went like ‘I need to write something christmass-y for Ivar’, and then I wrote it and then you asked… so… this is low key creepily magical!

But on a more serious note, my period has started (TMI), so if you want anything with Ivar, because that is my actual mood, I am more than happy to write and in the meanwhile I hope you’ll like this little babe!

Have a nice day!

WARNINGS: Family Drama, Abandonment Issues, Problematics Relatives, Talk of Medical Problems and Family at Christmas In General (also I know… I am the only person who can write Christmas fic… AFTER CHRISTMAS).

You hadn’t expected this to happen so quickly.

But when Ivar had asked you to come to meet his family for Christmas’ Eve dinner, you hadn’t been able to reject the proposal, mostly when you, yourself, had no plans for it…

… and you would have loved nothing more than to spend it with your boyfriend.

So, it was all settled, although you had had to rush all your gifts for his bothers and his parents, since he had let you know about the proposal only a week before Christmas.

‘I didn’t want to seem like an obsessed kind of type…’ he had mumbled, once you had asked the reason behind his timing ‘… I didn’t want you to feel rushed’.

Well you certainly weren’t feeling rushed for that, but it didn’t mean that you weren’t feeling less anxious about meeting Ivar’s big family, although you already knew Hvitserk, who was fine and nice, once you understood how to take him.

(And to ignore the condoms laying around all over his and Ivar’s shared house, which had come quite handy a few times).

‘… well then you have seen the worst of us’ had mumbled Ivar, after you had asked him to prepare you for what you were going to have to deal with ‘… Ubbe is nice, if you ignore the fact that he is annoying as hell and that his wife is a bitch, Sigurd is a bitch, but he is not a threat, and Bjorn won’t probably come…’.

The fact was that you weren’t exactly worried by Ivar’s brothers.

Who truly worried you was Aslaugh, Ivar’s beloved mother.

If you were Ivar’s love, Aslaugh had been his first love and you could see with the way he constantly talked about her, valuing her opinion as if it was the Law which both irritated you and made you anxious about her opinion of you.

Would she consider you not enough for his son?

And what would Ivar do in that case?

Would he discard you without a second thought or would he dare to go against his beloved mother’s opinion?

You had tried to push any of those thoughts down, but the day you had had to get ready to reach Ivar’s childhood house, they all came back to you and you tried not to panic hard in front of Ivar and Hvitserk, who were the calmest, even going as far as joking around, rather brotherly.

And you were tying not to throw up, in the car.

When you finally arrived, you tried to focus on the luggage that needed to be brought inside, helping Hvitserk, meanwhile Ivar insisted he could get also something.

‘You are wearing heels, woman, for Odin’s sake!’ he swore, looking at your polished booties, which you had worn to try to impress Asluagh with a classier look, having stalked her profile on Instagram to try to match her style, in order to impress her.

‘I can handle, sweetie’ your tone was sickly sweet, and Ivar sent you a confused look, before he turned around, giving up on his mission and going to knock on the polished door of the beautiful manor.

Although Hvitserk and Ivar referred to it as a simple ‘house’, for you it was a manor, with a perfect garden and even a swimming pool, which Hvitserk had suggested you used for the traditional ‘Lothbrock Christmas Swimming’, on Christmas morning.

You followed Ivar a few minutes later, with your backpack on your shoulder, carrying two suitcases (yours and Ivar, trying not to swirl and fall onto the iced surface, since all around the manor there was snow, in a beautiful winter-y atmosphere that looked like it was brought out of a winter legend.

It wasn’t Asluagh that opened the door, but an elderly man, although he looked as handsome as he had been in his earliest years, but his age was evident, alongside the wolfish grin he held, taking you in, although surprise quickly blossomed in your eyes as Ivar’s hand tangled with yours.

Your boyfriend, also, seemed surprised by the vision and it was Hvitserk who made the man known also to you, gently saluting him:

“Hey dad!” he muttered, quickly hugging him, as he dragged himself and the rest of the luggage inside, leaving you and Ivar blinking for the surprise “… didn’t know you would be there”.

And apparently didn’t Ivar, who after a first moment of holding his eternal grudge, moved in, bringing you alongside him, grabbing ahold of his luggage, trying to avoid with expertise his father, who still managed to catch him.

And more importantly: you caught his attention.

“Hello there, Ivar!” mumbled his father, once he got away from Hivtserk’s hug, who soon moved away towards what you thought was the kitchen “… and you brought a little friend”.

You didn’t know much about Ivar’s father: he had abandoned his family after Ivar’s birth. but he had still tried to be present in his sons’ lives.

At least economically.

“… dad, I thought you were dead” mumbled Ivar, no sarcastic tone his voice, and Ragnar quickly realized that he wasn’t welcome there, as his son quickly sprinted away, suggesting he was tired and would bring the suitcases to his room, on the first floor.

Leaving you with a rather sad Ragnar.

“He is just tired, he tends to get grumpy when he is tired” you tried to justify the situation, not even knowing why you were trying, but feeling a bit bad for the man: he wouldn’t have won best father of the year, but he had showed up “… I mean he is constantly grumpy…”.

“That’s the Ivar I know!” smirked Ragnar, softly as if he was remembering sweeter times, before gently offering his big hand to you “… I am Ragnar by the way, Ivar’s asshole dad”.

“I am (Y/N)” you mumbled, accepting the hand graciously “… Ivar’s…”.

“Oh you must be (Y/N)” a chirping voice exited the kitchen and a blonde girl a bit older than you appeared with an older woman that you recognized as Aslaugh: they both looked like they came from a cookie batch competition, but Aslaugh managed to seem regal even covered head-to-toe in flour.

She looked at your cryptically and for a minute.

You were wondering whether she was analyzing each flaw she could find, but then she gently smiled at you.

“Poor (Y/N)” she mumbled, pushing Margrethe, the blonde girl, which you had recognized as Ubbe’s wife a bit away from you“… five minutes she is in here, and she already gets stalked like an animal… I am sorry for my husband and son’s behavior, mostly Ivar’s, he should know better than to leave a woman, alone…”.

Ragnar found this as his cue to move away, sending you one last smirk at you, as if he knew all too well that you were going to go through a lot

“He was a bit tired and said he would have gone to his room to lay down” you suggested trying to shift the conversation away from you, having received more attention than you had hoped for, since Margrethe also kept on looking at you, definitely trying to find any weak point you owned.

“Still… he knows better than to come here, without at least letting his poor mother that he is still alive” she mumbled, huffing annoyed, although you could detect a bit of worry in her tone “… I also am rather sorry for not properly presenting myself to you: I am Aslaugh, Ivar’s mother… I hoped he told you this at least, and I would gladly hold your hand, but… I have flour in places I didn’t know flour could get…”.

You laughed, a bit relieved that Aslaugh was this fun and gently nodded, before you showed her the direction, Ivar had gone to, although you felt like she already knew, getting Margrethe to grab your coat and show you the wardrobe where you could store that.

‘I’ll check on my son a few minutes and then we can meet in the kitchen for a few cookies, hoping Hivtserk hasn’t eaten all of them, in the meantime, you and Margrethe can have a good talk over tea’.

You doubted you could have a ‘meaningful’ conversation with Margrethe, although you’d have to admit that you were used to ‘small talk’ having had to deal with Elaine all your college and work life, but you still didn’t like it, in the slightest.

Also, with the ‘totally weirded-out’ look she kept on sending your way, you didn’t feel in the slightest at ease with her, although you could understand why.

Ivar had confessed you that one of the reason why he didn’t feel comfortable having sex, was that once he had tried to hit it off with Margrethe (‘I was young and stupid and all my brothers had had their own experiences with women… it made me feel… self-conscious’) and he hadn’t been able to ‘raise up to the occasion’.

And Margrethe had laughed at him, taunting him enough that sex for him had been a rather taboo topic and only lately he had been more open even getting some control visit to see if it was truly some kind physiological problematics or simply psychological.

So, you understood that the blonde girl was trying to understand what you were staying with Ivar for.

“Oh Gosh, we weren’t certainly expecting you” her voice was slightly noisy and you couldn’t help but feel like it had some haughty tone that made you feel even more at unease and were secretly thankful that Aslaugh quickly reappeared.

“… but I am definitely glad that you are here, (Y/N)” her tone held an immediate warmness that you couldn’t help but appreciate, feeling more at ease, as she joined you on the table you had set down onto, before she quickly grabbed from an ‘hidden location’, as she called it, a jar of cookies “… and my son will join us shortly, I gave him quite my piece of mind about not leaving his pretty girl all alone, I was once also all alone in some stranger’s house, so I know it can be intimidating”.

You dared a shy smile at her, meanwhile Margrethe applied onto her face a smile of circumstance.

“Thank you, I truly appreciate it, but I stopped trying to get Ivar to do what I want… he will… eventually” you joked and Aslaugh laughed lightly, before adding.

“He was also a stubborn child” and then her eyes grew a bit sadder, a memory flashing in them “… he had to be, because… of how he was born”.

“… it never stopped him from doing what he wanted” you reassured Aslaugh and she sent a small smile at you, gripping your hand.

The sudden gesture made you flush lightly and you were happy when Ivar appeared on the kitchen threshold, quickly setting himself between you and Aslaugh, donning both you and his mother with a quick kiss onto your cheeks.

“Oh cookies…” he mumbled, trying to grab some from the jar, but Aslaugh slapped off his hand “… ouch… mom!”.

“Cookies are for people who don’t leave their girlfriends all alone” she mumbled, and you smirked a bit, meanwhile Ivar just flushed and pushed himself a bit closer to you, something which didn’t go unnoticed to the other women in the room.

The cookies didn’t go unnoticed so long to Hvitserk, who walked in the kitchen fascinated by the smell of freshly baked cookies, fighting with Margrethe for cookies, meanwhile you slipped one of yours to Ivar, who kissed your hand in a gentleman way to thank you.

“Sorry for having left you there…” he whispered softly into your ear “… I just wasn’t expecting him to be here”.

You simply patted one of his hand, before dragging him closer, in an almost kiss.

“… just don’t do it again” and then pushed him lightly away from you, making him giggle, and he managed to set a little kiss on your forehead.

“… cross my heart and hope to die” he whispered back, softly kissing your cheek, meanwhile Margrethe looked at you half disgusted and half weirded out “… do you think that Margrethe has something stuck in her eyes?”.

“Only her dignity” you mumbled, gaining an immediate smirk by Ivar, as Hvitserk joined your side, hoping to gain some cookies, with his puppy eyes, but he didn’t get none, moving onto trying to plead Aslaugh, who eventually relented.

“… oh, by the way, where are Ubbe and Sigurd?” asked Hvitserk, mouth half full of cookies, probably to know if he should just rush in eating the rest of the cookies before they came back from wherever they had gone, or if he could consume them more calmly.

“They went out grocery shopping, for a few missing things for the dinner” which low key surprised you since Aslaugh didn’t seem the type who missed anything for her ‘perfect dinner’ and soon Ivar solved the enigma.

“… they went to get dad a Christmas present, didn’t they?”.

Aslaugh nodded darkly, before some softness washed over her face.

“He just came here a few days ago, saying that old age is making him value what truly matter and what doesn’t”.

“It never seemed to stop him before” muttered darkly Ivar, gaining an annoyed look by Aslaugh “… oh c’mon, mom, you certainly can’t be happy to see him here, he left you! For another woman!”.

“I am certainly not happy to have him, here” her tone was stone cold, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were an outside to all this drama “… but I still have to recognize that he is your father, and he still deserves to see you and make peace with you, before it’s too late”.

Something broke in Ivar’s eyes and he relented in the word-fight with Aslaugh, meanwhile Hvitserk stopped eating his beloved cookies, probably understanding the graveness of the situation.

“… I still… it is strange…” mumbled Ivar.

“Well, then get used to strangeness because he is going to stick around at least till tomorrow morning” Aslaugh now donned her motherly tone and Ivar didn’t seem to have any intention to disobey her, meanwhile Hvitserk stood on his toe a bit more upright “… and now won’t you help me setting up dinner?”.

—

You couldn’t help but feel definitely inexperienced about dinners once Aslaugh got everything ready for the night, mostly because she made it seem so easily, as it it wasn’t something that came from experience or such.

Margrethe was quickly able to follow her commands, meanwhile you were extremely clueless and were glad for Hvitserk and Ivar’s back up in the kitchen, since they had also been put to use (‘I didn’t raise my sons to be some annoying sofa-warmers’ had mumbled Aslaugh, ordering them to get ready the vegetables).

But what made the experience even more nerve-wracking was the constant chit-chat going on between you and Aslaugh, which seemed harmless, but again… you didn’t want to fail her interrogation.

She asked a few personal questions of circumstance, asking whether you were still in college or working, and what you did, if you liked it or were aiming for something more., probably trying to sound out whether you were a gold digger or not.

Then she pushed the themes onto your and Ivar’s relationship, involving also her son in the questions: how long they had been together for, how they had met (Hvitserk bumped in this question, explaining the entire ‘tinder date’ thing, gaining quite the annoyed look by Aslaugh) and if you felt well together.

“Aren’t three months a bit too little for meeting the family?” asked naively Margrethe, the tone calm only onto the surface, under it, there was some kind of intent to break her apart to see what was going down, behind closed door.

“Ahem… yes…” you honestly wanted to reply that it was ‘none of her business’, and it was what Ivar’s face said, but you thought ‘kill her with kindness’ “… but I felt like I was personally ready for it, and Ivar didn’t make me feel rushed into this, so I think that timing only counts when you feel like it”.

Margrethe looked like she had been smacked, meanwhile Aslaugh gave you a soft smile.

“Ah, you are completely right, (Y/N)!” she smirked, before moving her examining glance to Margrethe “… also weren’t you and Ubbe already ‘dating’ a few weeks after having met, and with ‘dating’ I meant that you were coming over here, and acting like you owned the place”.

That seemed to shush her for quite a bit, for which you were thankful, because it made the conversation more lighthearted.

Finally, at 5 p.m. the two wandering brothers came home, bringing some grocery bags, meanwhile they hid badly a bag form a jewelry store, as they passed a horrendous Christmas card with a sloth to Ivar and Hvitserk to sign it.

And meanwhile this happened, they presented themselves to you: Ubbe in a more heartwarmingly way, even going as far as to hug you, meanwhile Sigurd simply gripped your hand in a loose shake, looking at you as if he had a unicorn in front of him.

And then they moved onto their brothers, giving a similar treatment as they had done with you, with Ubbe hugging warmly his brothers, before he moved onto kissing softly Margrethe and you almost shipped them, then and there.

Meanwhile also Sigurd hugged Hvitserk, he simply acknowledged Ivar, with a look of hostility in his eyes.

“… we weren’t expecting you to bring her, here” he muttered, more a whisper than actually anything, not wanting to be heard by you and Aslaugh, who was looking through the groceries “… we all thought she was some kind of fake joke…”.

Before Ivar could kill him, you gently pushed him back, suggesting you went to change for the dinner, gaining a little nod of approval by Aslaugh, who suggested that she brought you both the towels and something to wear.

You didn’t know what she meant with ‘something to wear’ but simply nodded, pushing Ivar away from the kitchen and Sigurd.

As you were under closed doors, and you had actually smashed your face against Ivar’s fluffy comforter, thankful for a few minutes alone with your mind, before Ivar smashed against you, making you let out a loud ‘ouch’ and him a laugh, as he kissed onto your neck to ease the pain.

You moved to face him and kiss him, gently, feeling him melt against you and you gently smashed your finger into his hair, getting a low moan from his chest.

“… we are making out like two teenagers, and we are even in your childhood room” you joked meanwhile he started nibling onto your neck, his way of releasing stress from Sigurd’s affirmation was to worship your body, getting lost in it.

“You are the first one” he blushed, shyly, his inexperience always surprising you, even more when he would kiss you like that.

“Am I not lucky?” you giggled softly, pushing him softly away, to get a look at your luggage, in order to decide what to wear, meanwhile Ivar got himself in the shower, as you told him to shout if he needed any help “… also what was your mother meaning with ‘sending us some clothes for dinner’”.

“Oh, mom is probably going to lend you some clothes, nothing on your fashion style, but she has her own clothing etiquette for Christmas Eve dinner…” he shouted from the shower, before water poured over his voice.

Although it was obvious that Aslaugh didn’t mean it badly, the clothing thing still made you feel a bit at unease, both for the lending and both for the clothing and as you were in the shower, you heard Ubbe walking in the room and quickly exchanging a few words with Ivar.

And when you walked in, Ivar was already in his expensive suit, and your elegant burgundy dress was waiting for you: it was rather conservative and definitely a bit different from what you were expecting.

“Is this your mother? Or does she buy new clothes for your girlfriends’ each year?” you mumbled “… because I don’t know which is creepier”:

“They are some of her oldest dresses, and she adapts the one she doesn’t use whether for charity or friends” Ivar explained to you, meanwhile he helped you adjust the dress, pushing the zip up, meanwhile he laid one last soft kiss at your neck.

“Is there something that your mom can’t do?” you mumbled a bit worried that you couldn’t ever be half as amazing as her.

“Stop us from screaming at each other, each dinner” he joked, before he made you turn to him and look at him “… and you shouldn’t compare yourself to her: I know that you are fucking nervous, but you are the most perfect thing that has ever happened to me, whether my mom approves or not”.

“I am still…” you mumbled, lowering your eyes, just for Ivar to push them up.

“You are perfect, never ever fucking forget that” and then he entangled your elbows together “… now let’s go to eat, hoping Hvitserk hasn’t eaten everything”.

You giggled and dragged your handsome man by his tie, meanwhile he smirked at you.

Once you were down the only thing that had stopped Hvitserk from eating anything on the table was the fact that Aslaugh was looking at him like she would straight up disown him had he through about eating anything, before everyone was down there.

After you and Ivar, followed Ubbe and Margrethe who had changed in a stunning icy blue dress, that highlighted her delightful completion and her pretty eyes: you were almost jealous, hadn’t Ivar sent her the same look he had given in the lamp, illuminating the stairs.

Last but not least came Ragnar, who just looked around curiously, probably checking his sons’ reactions to his presence, smirking softly at each of them, trying to avoid the pure hate glares he received and you couldn’t help but pity him a tiny bit.

As you settled down you were sat on Ivar’s right, meanwhile Aslaugh set up on his left and Ragnar onto your left, and in front of you there was Sigurd, on his left Hvitserk and on his right Margrethe and Ubbe.

It all started with a little appetizer, alongside wine, for which you were grateful, because the situation was kind of awkward: Ivar kept on looking at Ragnar, as did Aslaugh, but whereas she was more checking whether he was still there or not, Ivar was sending him his constant reminder that he wasn’t welcomed.

As did Ubbe and Sigurd.

Hvitserk was too bothered by sniffling the appetizers, meanwhile Margrethe had set herself up on the most distant place of the table to avoid the drama, which was a smarter move than you would have thought from someone like her.

In all this you tried to keep polite conversation between your two in-laws, not wanting to get on their nerves.

Ragnar mostly seemed interested into knowing details of your relationship, as a proud father would, sending rather shiny grins over at Ivar as if to say “that’s my boy”, meanwhile Aslaugh tried to keep the conversation also on you, asking your interests and hobbies and suddenly your worst nightmare had become true.

You were the center of attention.

And you were secretly thankful when Aslaugh had to take a bit of a break to gather the first dish, bringing alongside Ragnar, asking for his help with bringing the plates and you were already full but were thankful for the distraction that broke the main conversation in different smaller groups.

You risked spitting out all your wine, when Sigurd talked next, staring blatantly at you.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore we all know that the only way Ivar can land a girl like you is through money”.

“Excuse me” you shot back, pushing your glass of wine down, because you were quite sure that you would have certainly splashed Sigurd with it “… I don’t think I heard what you said quite right”.

“You either are doing it for money or for pity, I am sure” he mumbled back and, you were extremely thankful that you had put down your glass.

“I am sorry but that is none of your business first of all” you mumbled, meanwhile Ubbe tried to stop Ivar from getting up “… and second of all, you might not see it, but Ivar has qualities and I am with him for that, not for money or pity”.

“Oh, you’d be the first one to like Ivar because of his personality” mumbled Sigurd, his tone sarcastic and your tone immediately matched his, in your reply.

“At least he has one, unlike someone else” and with a roll of your eyes you sent him a look that meant that that ‘someone’ was him.

Silence fell down upon the table, but you felt Ivar’s hand gently push itself onto your thigh in an attempt to calm you down, but you were far too gone and turned to him, kissing him on the lips furiously.

You weren’t the expressive couple in the slightest, both you and Ivar taking PDA to a bare minimum, although you would always have your hands on each other, in a subtle and elegant way.

But you just felt like in that moment it was the right thing to do, and as soon as Ivar’s plush lips were onto yours, you were very much in heaven and only separated at a slow clapping of hands, found Ragnar looking at you even more fatherly-proud.

Ivar quickly hid his head into the crook of your neck and you were almost thankful when Aslaugh walked in bringing the first dish, completely disrupting the attention from you and Ivar, although you still felt Sigurd’s eyes following you, meanwhile Margrethe blushed, hiding her gaze behind her hands.

“… what did I miss?” asked Alsaugh, noticing the strange silence.

Hvitserk was halfway through opening his mouth full of food to answer, when Ivar kicked his knee under the table effectively shushing him.

“Nothing mom” mumbled Ubbe.

You were able to continue the dinner without a hitch, although you still felt self-conscious about your ‘excessive’ reaction to Sigurd’s provocation, but Ivar was smirking as brightly as the sun, staring all victoriously at Sigurd, meanwhile he twirled a knife in his hands.

The conversation helped you a bit, since it quickly shuffled onto more ordinary stuff and you were more than grateful to be chosen to be the one who had to help Aslaugh in the kitchen.

And she immediately noticed it.

“Ahh, my boys can be quite ‘too much’, sometimes” she mumbled, taking a huge gulp of wine “… and when Ragnar is with them, it is even worse”.

“I am sure that everything is alright” you mumbled, taking your own gulp of wine, meanwhile Aslaugh got the meat out of the oven, as you brought some plates where she could put it once it was cute “… and I honestly feel almost bad for Ragnar…”.

“I don’t want to risk on sounding like a vengeful woman: but it’s what he deserves for running away for all these years” although Aslaugh was trying to keep her tone calm and posed like she always did, there was some rage beneath it, and you just retired yourself back, helping her bring out the dishes.

The dinner continued calmly, and then once you had all washed the plates and collected the tablecloth to scroll it down for the crumbs, effectively moping them away meanwhile the boys helped set up the fire in the chimney, you all came around it to share your gifts.

The first ones to receive them were Aslaugh and Ragnar: all the boys had teamed up at least for the gifts, choosing a beautiful pendant in glass for Aslaugh, which looked like it was handmade, resembling a rose.

Ragnar instead received the jewelry bag, you had seen that afternoon and seemed more than delighted just at the appearance of the bag, as if he hadn’t expected the gift, being even more surprised as it turned out as a pretty watch, expensive from the little golden inserts.

He looked like he was about to cry at the thoughtful gifts and received a few small smiles by his older sons, meanwhile both Sigurd and Ivar kept themselves indifferent, although you felt Ivar gripping gently your hand a bit tighter, excited to see his father happy, although he didn’t want to let him see his happiness.

He wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

Then the boys passed to share their gifts with each other.

You and Ivar had chosen together the gifts, dividing the brothers, you would take Sigurd and Hvitserk (since it was impossible to hide something from that idiot) and Ivar would take Ubbe and Margrethe.

In the end you had gone with two tickets for Hvitserk’s favorite soccer team and a little music playbook for Sigurd, which you had embellished with some music sheet you had found online, as a way to let the playbook feel more familiar (you almost thought he didn’t deserve it for the stuff he had pulled at dinner).

Meanwhile Ivar had chosen a two-days-trip to one luxurious spa, which seemed to please Margrethe, who wasn’t certainly expecting this, from Ivar.

You were also surprised to receive gifts, because your presence had been announced much later: Ubbe and Margrethe gifted you two pair of golden earrings shaped as stars and Hvitserk gave you and Ivar a ‘tasting experience’ for a luxurious restaurant (although you were well aware that his first option had been a ‘vibrator’, but Ivar had literally threatened to change the locks of their shared house, had he chosen that gift).

Even Sigurd gifted you of a little something: a beaded headband, elegant and classy, matching your style.

You were surprised but hastily took it, even trying it on, as Ivar complimented the look, sending a slightly softer look at his brother, who blushed, his eyes speaking of unspoken apologies.

And even more weirdly, both Aslaugh and Ragnar had a gift for you: the latter one gave you a pretty flower vintage dress, this time, completely new and suiting you perfectly, a famous brand in the little label.

‘Oh, I don’t know if I got the measurements right! If you ever need to chan…’ and you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from hugging the woman, almost immediately regretting the decision till she hugged you back.

Ragnar’s gift was instead for you both: a trip to England, in one of his lofts (at which Ivar huffed in an annoyance, but you thanked your father-in-law, since you had always wished to visit England again).

Many more gifts were exchanged, and the things got a bit out of hand as also Floki and Helga joined the night, and you were swept off the floor as Floki brought you in a bone-crushing hug, meanwhile Helga giggled softly.

Although you were happy, and Ivar was literally the most at ease you had ever seen him, you had to retire a bit outside, in order to calm yourself down, with the excuse for a toilet break, from anyone.

Ivar followed you, gaining the wolf-whistles of his brothers, who joked about ‘what you truly were going to do in that bathroom’.

You went out, Ivar donning his coat onto your shoulder, since you had forgotten about it, a bit too warmed by the niceness of this new family.

“I am sorry if it was a bit too much” mumbled softly Ivar, gently getting a few sweaty strands away from your face, meanwhile you shook your head.

“No no, it was perfect” and softly kissed his face, meanwhile he scrunched his nose, faking that he didn’t like your affection “… I just… they are low key all so… welcoming”.

“It went better than I expected” he mumbled, meanwhile you adjusted your hair “… with you by my side, everything is better”.

“Flatterer” you mumbled, and made to go back inside, knowing that Ivar couldn’t handle the cold for long, but then he stopped you and got something out of his pocket, a small box.

Breath got stuck in your lungs, but Ivar quickly reassured you.

“It isn’t what you think I swear, but I felt like I just had to get you another little thing for Christmas…” you were a bit at loss of words: you had made a deal about getting a simple gift for each other for Christmas, since you didn’t want to disappoint the other “… oh c’mon! I know that you got me that Viking book, other than the beautiful tie”.

You blushed being caught red-handed, but still didn’t do anything else.

“You didn’t have to get me…” you mumbled, but Ivar shut you up with a slightly angered look.

“Please don’t make me wait anymore, I am low key anxious that you won’t like it!”.

And you finally opened the box to reveal a little necklace with a ladybug on it, Ivar’s silly nickname for you, because according to him ‘you were his lucky-charm’.

You sighed a bit at the prettiness of the golden beauty, before Ivar suggested to help you put it on, and he adjusted it, gently giving a soft kiss to the back of your neck, as he slipped another bigger present from one of the pocket of your coat, making you send him an exasperated look.

“Oh, c’mon! This one is for us both!” he mumbled, blushing distinctively the reddest you had ever seen, as you revealed under the elegant box a simple set of burgundy lingerie.

“Is this a sign that you want to try?” you tried to be the most delicate possible with your words.

And Ivar grabbed softly your hand, pushing up to kiss your lips again.

“… didn’t I tell you? You are my lucky-charm, little ladybug!”.

#ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless fic #ivar fic #ivar imagine #ivar the boneless reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar fluff #ivar the boneless fluff #fluff #tinder date! anon #ivar the boneless ask #vikings #vikings imagine #ivar drabble #ivar blurb

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alyseofwonderland · 5 years ago

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How to Make The Goldfinch a Good (read- Gay ) Movie

So @rollono had me watch The Goldfinch with her and then linked me to @wellntruly‘s post about the book it's based on. Then I read the wiki on the book.

Here’s how to reshoot the movie so it actually works as a movie. (I see now that @wellntruly has done her own but I am not going to read it until I am done with this because these are my thoughts.)

(typed semi stream of consciousness style because the thoughts came at me so hard)

okay, so on my drive to work I spent a bunch of time thinking about how I would edit/change the movie so its a more coherent story with a tighter flow I think I have the answer but it will make fans of Andy sad. You have to cut the Boroughs from the story almost completely. at the front and the back of the plot. zero in on the Hobie/Pippa stuff and the Boris stuff. from the fanfic I have been reading it seems like Theo is like sorta obsessed with the concepts of "before" and "after" and I'm just like we should have one person for each thing. Pippa as a Before and Boris as After.

Open the movie with Pippa and Theo looking at each other across the painting. their guardians in the shot but they are the focal points. cut to credits was the explosion happens

Come back from the title credits to Theo and Welty. scene of Theo getting placed in the Boroughs home but don't linger on that. focus more on him at Hobie's and finding Pippa and maybe showing them bonding a bit more. give him a panic attack there or something.

have his father arriving be a phone call that like pulls him away from Hobie and Pippa.(yeah sad about Any but it gives us time for other stuff)

Spend more time with Theo and Boris just vibing in different ways. the movie did a decent job but it had so much else going on that we should have had some more time there. maybe even ignore the stuff about his dad trying to steal from him and just have the dad like abuse him or some shit and then go off and die.

phase two of why cutting out the Boroughs makes sense: CRIME

we don't see Theo passing off fake antiques as real just one guy threatening him. we should have scenes of Hobie struggling after Theo returns (maybe before he starts working there) and so we see Theo's motivation as doing crime to save Hobie. Only we make it apparent that like after one or two fake antiques he has gotten them out of the red and should technically stop now. only he can't because he likes the high of it.

this crime element means that we then can see shady people lingering around the shop. He is slipping into a darker world. the return of Boris, while Theo is looking to get high, makes more sense tonally. With no Kitsey nonsense, the tension can be amped up with Theo and Boris. the angst, the heartbreak, the crime.

and it can be juxtaposed with Pippa and Hobie where he is trying to keep up the fake face of "before Theo". instead of having Boris interrupt and engagement party. he comes while Theo is out to dinner with Hobie and Pippa. (It can be her engagement party if we like the DRAMA of it all which honestly we do.) So he has to choose. Make him a more active and semi like excited part of the heist. he's a criminal. The boy from ‘before’ is dead and we see it visually with his actions.

maybe even like do some imagery with Boris and Pippa that both lean towards bird stuff. being like "oh so one of them is the goldfinch". Make the allusions from the book a visual thing because movies are a visual media. Pippa wearing feathery earrings. Boris flapping his arms like a bird. End the film still with Boris saving Theo from suicide attempt but like have it more emotional. Boris admitting to all the previous times he saved him. (give me like cry shouting and angry hugs)

The final shots are Theo going to see the Goldfinch now on display at a museum. not even like inside just standing outside. if you want to make it really gay have Boris appear in the final shot, stepping into frame and taking Theo's hand. get someone with a big fan to make their coats flow out behind them as they walk up the stairs. They take flight visually, as the goldfinch never could.

Other details. Lean heavier into the “I’m a hero from a novel that doesn't belong in this time.” Have Pippa’s boy maybe make a comment about Theo and Hobie being ‘of another time’ or visiting being ‘like time traveling’. The hilarity of an English man dragging these two NYC for being obsessed with history is golden. Do more with costuming to show some of the points that we should understand. As Theo goes from ‘before’ to ‘after’ his wardrobe should visibly change. Maybe even give him a different pair of glasses near the end, his view of the world is different now.

I get that dense books like this one (still haven't read it. might listen to the audiobook) are hard to adapt. But I think back to my MVP adaptation, Lord of The Rings. They slashed out major parts of the book and characters. The number of elves is drastically reduced. They removed an entire section about Tom Bomderdil that hardcore fans love. Three different fights are cut out of the first movie and a new one of Arwin fighting the wraiths is added. This is done because books can meander, movies have to run.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk now go read @wellntruly‘s stuff because its so good I took my laptop into my pitch-black bathroom to keep reading when I needed to pee. and then my boyfriend looked at me like I was losing my mind.

#jabberwockytalkies #words #the goldfinch #theo decker #boris pavlikovsky #wellntruly #rollono #the goldfinch film #alyse writes

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rebellect-writes · 4 years ago

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[b]Name:[/b] Jess [b]Age:[/b] Old enough not to fall for easy pranks. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] I didn't! You found me!

[b]Name:[/b] Archer Rousseau. [b]Nicknames:[/b] [LIST] [*] Archibald Moreau. – Alias. Get over it. [*] Arch – Meh. He’ll acknowledge you. [*] Archie – No way. He’ll hurt you, if not kill you. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 28 [b]Date of Birth:[/b] 20th of November, 1982. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Pansexual. [b]Occupation:[/b] Supernatural Trafficker.

[b]Powers:[/b] Nope, he's a plain old human. There might be a dash of sensitivity in there, but only enough to make the hair rise on the back of his arms and neck. Not enough for him to pay too much attention too. This will change in the future with a little nip...

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Gaspard Ulliel. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/bleuchanel11.jpg[/IMG][LIST]Archer isn’t that remarkable really or so he thinks, of course he’s vain enough not to complain and brush aside any complements because he likes them. What he doesn’t see is that he truly is a handsome young man. With dark blue eyes that have a habit of assessing people’s souls, Archer’s stands at a simple 5’10 ¾ inches which isn’t that bad in today’s world, more so when he weighs in at 178lbs in weight. Dark brown bangs normally fall across his eyes, only to be swept back in annoyance. He’s too damn stubborn to get his hair cut, so he has left his shoulder length hair alone. Oh he ties it back on occasion, but most of the time he leaves it as it is. He’s even tried the shaven look, but recently he’s developed a liking for the five o’clock shadow and goatee.

He has one simple tattoo on the inside of his left wrist which serves as duel reminders to his past. The [URL=http://www.chinatownconnection.com/chinese-symbol-carpe-diem.htm]Chinese symbol meaning "carpe diem"[/URL] He received it from his twin sister, otherwise he would have most likely had it removed it by now. Instead he covers it with a watch strap and really has forgotten about that. As it so happens, with his job and his tendency to get into the thick of things, Archer has a few scars from his work. One nasty – and fully healed scar – on his shoulder, from a werewolf that had a temper. Other than that, he’s got rough hands but little else in the way of imperfections.

As far as his sense of fashion, Archer doesn’t mind dressing down into something casual, in fact, if he can pull off something with jeans, he prefers that. However, he can normally be seen in a formal set up, shirt and tie, waist coat or jacket, trousers, sturdy shoes, when dealing with clients and anything work related. Which seems to be most of the time with Archer, but he’s taken a liking to looking smart. Jewellery isn’t that big of a challenge for Archer either, a wedding band to fool people if it’s needed a watch by necessity. Maybe even a necklace or bracelet at times. Most of the time however, his wardrobe is dictated by his mood so it all depends really. [/LIST][b]Special Skills:[/b] Does your character have any special skills that set them out from other people? This can include weapons training and the like. If they don’t, just put n/a.

[b]Personality:[/b] Let us know what your character is like in here, the good, the bad and the in-between. One paragraph minimum isn’t much! [b]Likes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Relaxing in the tub after a long day with a glass of wine. [*] Reading. A good book can save anyone’s sanity. [*] Cooking when he’s bored or thinking. [*] Exploring new things. It doesn’t matter what it is. [*] Control. He needs it in some form or another. [*] A successful sale. What? It’s just a business. [*] A challenge. In any shape of form. [*] Movie/Television shows marathons. [*] Women, over men…If you’re talking anything sexual. [*] Art. In all its forms and glory. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Having to chase after people. It’s annoying and reminds him of hunting. [*] A bad business transaction. They make him look like a fool. [*] Insomnia attacks. It normally means his conscience is still alive and kicking. [*] Clingy people. Women seem to want to cuddle, and cuddly men? We don’t speak of it. [*] Vegans and vegetarians. Meat is not murder in his eyes, but he's willing to commit it. [*] Having to be nice to idiotic people. [*] Weak willed people. They’re easy too easy to control and there’s no challenge. [*] Being backed into a corner and dragged into the lime light by something. [*] People that try and manipulate him. It leaves him in a [*] Tears. People make him cringe when they cry. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST]• Sweet talking and charming people. He uses every skill to his advantage. • He’s not the type to let pleading get to him. • Follows orders when he wants too. This mind set is directed at some people out of pure amusement. • Loyal to his siblings. He will do anything for them. • “You have to make them believe you’ll hurt them…” … He will. • He’s a very good listener; you could say he was a people’s person. • His twin sister. Don't mess around with Simona or there’ll be angry words. • Isn't stupid enough to brush threats away completely but he doesn't let them bother him openly. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] He’s a sucker for anything exotic. [*] He can be unbelievably blunt at times. Bad for business that. [*] He’s stubborn when it comes to asking for outside help. [*] He goes out of his wait to bait a reaction out of people at times. [*] He can be a bit of a control freak. [*] Has a dark and dry sense of humour at times. [*] Simona and Bernard. He’d do anything for his family if they were in trouble. [*] He has a heart. Tucked away in there, somewhere. [/LIST][b]Family:[/b][LIST] [*] Fallon Rousseau; father; dead. [*] Audrey Rousseau; mother; mia, presumed dead. [*] Simona Rousseau; twin sister; alive. [*] Bernard Rousseau; older brother; alive and technically mia for now. [/LIST][b]History:[/b] 3 paragraphs minimum here, you can tell us what’s happened in your characters life, from their birth to the current day.

#WHY #why didn't i fkin finish this one???

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ezmodo · 6 years ago

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Dancing for Dunces

Surveying the room from her seat, Weiss was genuinely impressed with Atlas Academy’s school dance. The hall was spacious, the music tasteful, the food and drink more refined than she expected from a military school. Even the decorations were adequate, lack of doilies notwithstanding. There was one glaring issue, however.

“I’m going to kill that dolt.”

“Which dolt is that, Weiss?” Yang asked from across the table, her knowing grin adding to Weiss’ mounting frustrations.

“Her. Him. Them!” she fumed, angrily whipping her hand towards the two sources of her irritation.

On the far side of the room stood Ruby Rose and Jaune Arc, hiding behind the punchbowl.

---

Weiss didn’t think her friends appreciated just how much work went into setting this up for them. She didn’t organize the academy’s social, no, but she did everything else in her power to make the night memorable for her team, some of which required some uncomfortable visits home. Her team didn’t have clothes suitable for a dance and she wasn’t about to let them wear borrowed formal military uniforms for the occasion. But with thankfully just one promised appearance at a future function of her father’s choosing, Weiss had access to the Schnee wardrobe and, most importantly of all, Klein.

She gave Yang and Blake free rein and naturally they went for matching ensembles. Yang chose a surprisingly modest black gown that went down past her knee while Blake chose a rather risqué halter dress, a stunning yellow piece that showed more than Weiss wanted to see from her teammate outside of a changing room. Yang certainly appreciated it though, loud and often. Weiss was happy for her friends, she really was, but couldn’t they show some restraint? Ruby’s mock gagging every time they started up mirrored Weiss’ thoughts on the matter. No one wanted to see their family acting like that. Just imagining Winter in such a scenario was enough to cause the bile to rise to the back of her throat.

For Ruby, Weiss had to take direct control. Left to her own devices, Ruby would have shown up in her hood and combat boots. Or, more likely, not shown up at all and stayed in her room to play video games instead. Which wasn’t an option, naturally. Ruby would have a magical evening even if Weiss had to drag her kicking and screaming into it.

Weiss chose for her a simple off-the-shoulder dress, a deep red to match her hair. The bodice had a tasteful bustline and the skirt was suitably “poofy”, to use Ruby’s vernacular, for her partner’s tastes. A silver hairpin kept her hair neat and out of her eyes. Weiss had wanted to include a stole as well for Ruby to wrap about her shoulders, to round out the look and provide her partner with the bit of comfort that she knew losing her hood would cost her, but Nora had fought her on it. Let those puppies breathe, Nora had argued. Weiss was scandalized, but Nora insisted she just meant her shoulders.

New knowledge of Jaune’s possible...proclivities made Weiss consider adding a heavy winter coat to all of her outfits.

She left Jaune himself in the care of his teammates and Klein. Nora aside, she could trust the two men to smooth out the rough edges of the moronic knight into something presentable. She had only two instructions for them. One – do something, anything, with that disaster he called hair; and two – pin a red rose to his breast. They had settled on a simple tuxedo and bowtie, the only color coming from the lovely red rose standing out proudly on his chest.

As she watched Ruby and Jaune gawk at each other when they first met before the dance, Weiss just knew the night was going to be a rousing success.

---

This is an unmitigated disaster… Weiss thought sourly as she watched her partner take a drink from the same empty glass for the fifth time in the last ten minutes.

The night had started so promisingly. She was initially worried that they’d be too flustered to talk, too dazzled by her and Klein’s perfect makeovers, but a timely joke from Yang snapped Ruby and Jaune out of their respective stupors long enough to bring back their usual dynamic. The group made their way to the hall and quickly secured a table and the two dunces actually tried to sit separately before she and Nora boxed them in. Was Jaune too stunned by Ruby’s elegant beauty? Was Ruby put off kilter by Jaune managing to look almost halfway dashing? A dinner full of quick peeks and long sideways stares confirmed the theory in Weiss’ mind.

As soon as dinner was cleared away Nora leapt to her feet, grabbed both Ren and Oscar by the collars, and dragged them away shouting that “this was happening”. Yang and Blake followed, telling the remaining three that they’d save them a spot on the dance floor.

This was it. Jaune would offer a hand to Ruby, which she’d accept demurely, and off they’d go to share a magical evening that they both thoroughly deserved. At least until Jaune mumbled something about dancing “requiring proper hydration” as he fled from the table. Ruby was quick to follow, offering her own squeaky excuse before stumbling along after him, faster than Weiss had ever seen the girl move in heels. They’d been at the punchbowl ever since.

Face in her hands, Weiss finally realized the fatal flaw in her plan. She wasn’t dealing with normal, sane people. She was dealing with Ruby Rose and Jaune Arc, the two biggest dorks to ever come out of Beacon Academy. Weiss had so graciously presented them with the best night of their lives, so easy to grasp that they could practically fall into it, and they had made it awkward.

They’d even spoiled the hard work she and Klein put into their appearance. Ruby had taken the hairpin out at some point and now half her face was hidden behind her red fringe. Jaune’s own hair had transformed back into its usual messy mop from the boy constantly running his hand through it while his bowtie hung loose and crooked from constant tugging.

“Why are they being so difficult?” Weiss groused, glaring at the pair across the room. “You’re at a dance. Dance.”

“Chill out, kettle,” Yang joked, earning an icy glare from the heiress.

Yang laughed uneasily before adding, “You know Ruby’s not into stuff like that, right? Maybe she doesn’t want to dance.”

“Nonsense,” Weiss scoffed. “Every girl wants to dance with the person they like.”

“They certainly do.”

Blake snuck up behind Yang and ran a hand down the girl’s arm as she joined her partner at the table. Weiss fought the urge to roll her eyes. These two…

Yang grinned dopily at Blake before turning back to Weiss. “What’s the big deal anyway? They’re having fun.”

She’d allow that. Even from across the room she would occasionally hear one of the two laughing, Jaune with his heaving guffaws and Ruby with her high pitched cackling. They’d occasionally bump hips or elbows with each other, starting an impromptu “fight” that would end with them standing just a bit closer than before.

It was cute. It was endearing. It made Weiss grind her teeth in frustration. They were so damned close but neither would take the first step.

“How goes the mission, Ice Queen?”

Nora announced herself loudly, Neon in tow, as they joined the group at the table. Neon sat to Yang’s left while Nora joined Weiss opposite them.

“Where’s Ren?” Blake asked. It was strange to see Nora without the boy, especially on a night like this.

Nora harrumphed as she crossed her arms. “He took over Oscar’s dancing lessons. Apparently I was going to ‘break him’ and ‘scar him for life,’” punctuating each complaint with air quotes.

Weiss looked back to the dancefloor and sure enough, Oscar and Ren were moving back and forth in a simple waltz. Oscar’s face burned red from embarrassment while Ren, unflappable as always, quietly offered direction as he allowed Oscar to lead him around the floor.

“Mission?” Neon asked, leaning eagerly across the table. “What mission?”

Weiss simply hooked a thumb towards the pair across the hall.

Yang explained. “Weiss wants my sister and Jaune to share a magical evening full of dancing and awkward se-”

Yang just managed to keep her seat as Weiss’ glyph rocked her chair back dangerously.

Neon laughed as she watched the two leaders chatting at the punchbowl. “They both the shy type or what?”

“Shy and awkward and dumb,” Weiss growled.

“Then just give them a little push,” Neon offered with a shrug. “Spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven, recreational dru- I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Neon jumped out of her chair, hands raised defensively as Weiss rose threateningly to her feet.

“I’ve got it!” Nora exclaimed. Jumping to her feet, she dragged both Neon and Yang into an improvised huddle as they whispered.

After a minute of excited conspiring, the three girls all raised their heads in confidence with a unified nod.

“Got any hot friends to do the job?” Yang asked, grinning up at Neon.

“Babe,” Neon said, wrapping an arm around Yang’s shoulder and pulling her into a friendly side hug, “all my friends are hot.”

Yang was oblivious, but Weiss didn’t miss the angry twitch of Blake’s ears.

Luckily, Neon practically hopped away before a cat fight (literally in this case, Weiss supposed) could break out with a happy “leave it to me!” before disappearing into the throng of dancers.

“What are you two scheming?” Weiss asked suspiciously.

“Simple, Weissy. The quickest way to get a huntress to pounce is for another huntress to threaten her prey,” Nora stated matter-of-factly.

Before she could puzzle that one out, Weiss noticed a girl approach their table. Tall with long brown hair, rather ridiculous curves, and a dress that made Blake’s look modest, the girl looked more like a model than a huntress.

“Hey,” she greeted the group. “Neon sent me. Apparently there’s a hunk looking for a dance?”

“Yup! Tall blond dude by the drinks,” Yang said, pointing discreetly towards Jaune. “Can’t miss him.”

The girl nodded and made her way towards the leaders. She stopped briefly, adjusting her dress in ways that showed even more skin, and sashayed her way towards Jaune.

Weiss sputtered. This was their master plan? To have some...some hussy steal the target of her partner’s affections right in front of her? Unacceptable. She made to stand but was grabbed instantly by Nora, who pulled her back to her seat.

“Have some faith, Weiss. You’ll see,” Nora said with a pat on her back.

She watched the seductress approach the table where Ruby had just told some joke that had Jaune wiping a tear from his eye. The girl centered herself, cocked her hip, and made a show of clearing her throat. The leaders looked to their new arrival and simultaneously froze, probably when the harpy asked him for a dance. Weiss’ hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palm as she watched some stranger break her best friend’s heart.

Until Jaune’s head suddenly snapped to Ruby, surprise evident on his face even from a distance. His gaze slowly shifted down and that’s when Weiss noticed – Ruby’s hand had found his. Ruby offered some hurried excuse and promptly started dragging Jaune after her out towards the dancefloor. The brunette sent to steal Jaune turned towards their table with a thumbs up raised high which both Yang and Nora returned with gusto.

I can’t believe that actually worked, Weiss thought as her eyes followed the pair squeezing by other couples out on the floor.

“All’s well that ends well,” Nora chirped happily. “‘Bout time I go find my man.”

“Ayup. Sis won’t let anyone take her sweets.” Yang stood, offering a hand to Blake. “Up for another dance, kitten?”

Blake rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her blush as she took her partner’s hand.

Weiss stood as well, straightening out her dress. I suppose I should get a dance in as well. Maybe Nora will let me borrow Ren for a song…

She turned towards the dancefloor and froze when she saw Ruby pinching her nose.

Did that idiot Jaune seriously…?

A goofy grin broke out on Ruby’s face as she raised her free hand and pantomimed sinking to the floor, wiggling all the way.

“The swim huh? Talk about a blast from the past,” Yang laughed.

Jaune looked like he was trying to knee himself in the chest as he ran in place.

“Ooo! Count me in!” Nora shouted, brushing past Weiss on her way to the dancefloor.

Weiss buried her face in her hands and let out a long suffering sigh.

Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.

This wasn’t romantic. This wasn’t magical. This was tomfoolery.

Dragging her hands down her face, Weiss finally noticed her partner smiling at her. With an exaggerated wave, Ruby beckoned her to join them.

They were her idiots at least.

#rwby #9daysoflancaster #rwby lancaster #ruby rose #jaune arc #weiss schnee #writing

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makistar2018 · 5 years ago

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Taylor Swift on Sexism, Scrutiny, and Standing Up for Herself

AUGUST 8, 2019 By ABBY AGUIRRE Photographed by INEZ AND VINOODH

Cover Look Taylor Swift wears a Louis Vuitton jumpsuit. Rings by Cartier and Bvlgari. To get this look, try: Dream Urban Cover in Classic Ivory, Fit Me Blush in Pink, Tattoostudio Sharpenable Gel Pencil Longwear Eyeliner Makeup in Deep Onyx, The Colossal Mascara, Brow Ultra Slim in Blonde, and Shine Compulsion by Color Sensational Lipstick in Undressed Pink. All by Maybelline New York. Hair, Christiaan; makeup, Fulvia Farolfi. Fashion Editor: Tonne Goodman

Photographed by Inez & Vinoodh, Vogue, September 2019

IT’S A SUNDAY AFTERNOON in Tribeca, and I’m in Taylor Swift’s loft, inside a former printing house that she has restored and fortified into a sanctuary of brick, velvet, and mahogany. The space is warm and cozy and vaguely literary—later, when we pass through her bedroom en route to her garden, 10 percent of my brain will believe her wardrobe might open up to Narnia. Barefoot in a wine-colored floral top and matching flowy pants, Swift is typing passwords into a laptop to show me the video for “You Need to Calm Down,” eight days before she unleashes it on the world.

I have a sliver of an idea what to expect. A few weeks earlier, I spent a day at the video shoot, in a dusty field-slash-junkyard north of Los Angeles. Swift had made it a sort of Big Gay Candy Mountain trailer park, a Technicolor happy place. The cast and crew wore heart-shaped sunglasses—living, breathing lovey-eyes emoji—and a mailbox warned, LOVE LETTERS ONLY.

Swift and a stream of costars filmed six scenes over about a dozen hours. The singer-songwriter Hayley Kiyoko, known to her fans as “Lesbian Jesus,” shot arrows at a bull’s-eye. The YouTube comedian-chef Hannah Hart danced alongside Dexter Mayfield, the plus-size male model and self-described “big boy in heels.” The Olympic figure skater Adam Rippon served up icy red snow cones. Swift and her close friend Todrick Hall, of Kinky Boots and RuPaul’s Drag Race, sipped tea with the cast of Queer Eye.

Speak Now “Rights are being stripped from basically everyone who isn’t a straight white cisgender male,” Swift says. Celine coat. Dior shoes. Fashion Editor: Tonne Goodman. Photographed by Inez & Vinoodh, Vogue, September 2019

The mood was joyous and laid-back. But by the end of the day, I wasn’t sure what the vignettes would add up to. There were shoot days and cameos I wouldn’t observe. For security reasons, the song was never played aloud. (The cast wore ear buds.) Even the hero shot, in which Swift and Hall sauntered arm in arm through the dreamscape at golden hour, was filmed in near-total silence.

For weeks afterward, I tried to sleuth out a theory. I started casually. There was a “5” on the bull’s-eye, so I did a quick search to figure out what that number might mean. Immediately I was in over my head.

Swift has a thing for symbols. I knew she had been embedding secret messages in liner notes and deploying metaphors as refrains since her self-titled debut in 2006—long before her megafame made her into a symbol of pop supremacy. But I hadn’t understood how coded and byzantine her body of work has become; I hadn’t learned, as Swift’s fans have, to see hidden meanings everywhere. For instance: In the 2017 video for “Look What You Made Me Do,” a headstone in a graveyard scene reads NILS SJOBERG, the pseudonym Swift used as her writing credit on Rihanna’s hit “This Is What You Came For,” a Swedish-sounding nod to that country’s pop wizards.

After an excessive amount of ad hoc scholarship—a friend joked that I could have learned Mandarin in the time I spent trying to unpack Swift’s oeuvre—I was no closer to a theory. Pop music has become so layered and meta, but the Taylor Swift Universe stands apart. Apprehending it is like grasping quantum physics.

My first indication of what her new album, Lover, would be about came just after midnight on June 1, the beginning of Pride Month, when Swift introduced a petition in support of the federal Equality Act. This legislation would amend the Civil Rights Act to outlaw discrimination based on gender identity and sexual orientation. (It has passed the House, but prospects in Mitch McConnell’s Senate are unclear.) Swift also posted a letter to Senator Lamar Alexander, Republican of Tennessee, asking him to vote yes. The request, on her personal letterhead (born in 1989. LOVES CATS.), denounced President Trump for not supporting the Equality Act. “I personally reject the president’s stance,” Swift wrote.

Back in the kitchen, Swift hits play. “The first verse is about trolls and cancel culture,” she says. “The second verse is about homophobes and the people picketing outside our concerts. The third verse is about successful women being pitted against each other.”

The video is, for erudite Swifties, a rich text. I had followed enough clues to correctly guess some of the other cameos—Ellen DeGeneres, RuPaul, Katy Perry. I felt the satisfaction of a gamer who successfully levels up—achievement unlocked!The video’s final frame sends viewers to Swift’s change.org petition in support of the Equality Act, which has acquired more than 400,000 signatures—including those of Cory Booker, Elizabeth Warren, Beto O’Rourke, and Kirsten Gillibrand—or four times the number required to elicit an official response from the White House.

“MAYBE A YEAR OR TWO AGO, Todrick and I are in the car, and he asked me, What would you do if your son was gay?”

We are upstairs in Swift’s secret garden, comfortably ensconced in a human-scale basket that is sort of shaped like a cocoon. Swift has brought up an ornate charcuterie board and is happily slathering triple-cream Brie onto sea-salt crackers. “The fact that he had to ask me . . . shocked me and made me realize that I had not made my position clear enough or loud enough,” she says. “If my son was gay, he’d be gay. I don’t understand the question.”

I have pressed Swift on this topic, and her answers have been direct, not performative or scripted. I do sense that she enjoys talking to me about as much as she’d enjoy a root canal—but she’s unfailingly polite, and when we turn to music, her face will light up and she will add little melodic phrases to her speech, clearly her preferred language.

Balancing Act Later this year, Swift will appear in the film adaptation of Cats—as the flirtatious Bombalurina. Givenchy dress. Bracelets by John Hardy, David Yurman, and Hoorsenbuhs. Photographed by Inez & Vinoodh, Vogue, September 2019

“If he was thinking that, I can’t imagine what my fans in the LGBTQ community might be thinking,” she goes on. “It was kind of devastating to realize that I hadn’t been publicly clear about that.”

I understand why she was surprised; she has been sending pro-LGBTQ signals since at least 2011. Many have been subtle, but none insignificant—especially for a young country star coming out of Nashville.

In the video for her single “Mean” (from 2010’s Speak Now), we see a boy in a school locker room wearing a lavender sweater and bow tie, surrounded by football players. In “Welcome to New York,” the first track on 1989, she sings, “And you can want who you want. Boys and boys and girls and girls.” Two years later, she donated to a fund for the newly created Stonewall National Monument and presented Ruby Rose with a GLAAD Media Award. Every night of last year’s Reputation tour, she dedicated the song “Dress” to Loie Fuller, the openly gay pioneer of modern dance and theatrical lighting who captured the imagination of fin-de-siècle Paris.

Swift, who has been criticized for keeping her politics to herself, first took an explicit stance a month before the 2018 midterms. On Instagram, she endorsed Democrats for the Tennessee Legislature and called out the Republican running for Senate, Marsha Blackburn. “She believes businesses have a right to refuse service to gay couples,” Swift wrote. “She also believes they should not have the right to marry. These are not MY Tennessee values.”

Swift says the post was partly to help young fans understand that if they wanted to vote, they had to register. To tell them, as she puts it, “Hey, just so you know, you can’t just roll up.” Some 65,000 new voters registered in the first 24 hours after her post, according to Vote.org.

Trump came to Blackburn’s defense the following day. “She’s a tremendous woman,” he told reporters. “I’m sure Taylor Swift doesn’t know anything about her. Let’s say I like Taylor’s music about 25 percent less now, OK?”

In April, spurred by a raft of anti-LGBTQ bills in Tennessee, Swift donated $113,000 to the Tennessee Equality Project, which advocates for LGBTQ rights. “Horrendous,” she says of the legislation. “They don’t call it ‘Slate of Hate’ for nothing.” Swift especially liked that the Tennessee Equality Project had organized a petition of faith leaders in opposition. “I loved how smart it was to come at it from a religious perspective.”

Meanwhile, the “Calm Down” video provoked a Colorado pastor to call Swift “a sinner in desperate need of a savior” and warn that “God will cut her down.” It also revived heated debate within LGBTQ communities about the politics of allyship and corporatization of Pride. Some critics argued Swift’s pro-LGBTQ imagery and lyrics were overdue and out of the blue—a reaction the new Swift scholar in me found bewildering. Had they not been paying attention?

Nor did it strike me as out of character for Swift to leverage her power for a cause. She pulled her catalog from Spotify in 2014 over questions of artist compensation. She stared down Apple in 2015, when the company said it would not pay artists during the launch of its music service. (Apple reversed itself immediately.) As a condition of her record deal with Universal Music Group last year, the company promised that it would distribute proceeds from any sale of its Spotify shares to all of its artists. And this summer, Swift furiously called out Scott Borchetta, founder of Big Machine Label Group, for selling her master recordings to the music manager Scooter Braun. (When I ask Swift if she tried to get her masters from Big Machine, her whole body slumps with a palpable heaviness. “It was either investing in my past or my and other artists’ future, and I chose the future,” she says of the deal she struck with Universal.)

Swift’s blunt testimony during her 2017 sexual-assault case against a radio DJ—months before the #MeToo reckoning blew open—felt deeply political to me and, I imagine, many other women. Swift accused the DJ, David Mueller, of groping her under her skirt at a photo session in 2013. Her camp reported the incident to his employer, who fired him. Mueller denied the allegation, sued Swift for $3 million, and his case was thrown out. Swift countersued for a symbolic $1 and won.

Watch Taylor Swift Take Over Go Ask Anna:

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In a Colorado courtroom, Swift described the incident: “He stayed latched onto my bare ass cheek” as photos were being snapped. Asked why photos of the front of her skirt didn’t show this, she said, “Because my ass is located at the back of my body.” Asked if she felt bad about the DJ’s losing his job, she said, “I’m not going to let you or your client make me feel in any way that this is my fault. Here we are years later, and I’m being blamed for the unfortunate events of his life that are the product of his decisions—not mine.”

When Time included Swift on the cover of its “Silence Breakers” issue that year, the magazine asked how she felt during the testimony. “I was angry,” she said. “In that moment, I decided to forgo any courtroom formalities and just answer the questions the way it happened...I’m told it was the most amount of times the word ass has ever been said in Colorado Federal Court.”

Mueller has since paid Swift the dollar—with a Sacagawea coin. “He was trolling me, implying that I was self-righteous and hell-bent on angry, vengeful feminism. That’s what I’m inferring from him giving me a Sacagawea coin,” Swift says. “Hey, maybe he was trying to do it in honor of a powerful Native American woman. I didn’t ask.” Where is the coin now? “My lawyer has it.”

I ask her, why get louder about LGBTQ rights now? “Rights are being stripped from basically everyone who isn’t a straight white cisgender male,” she says. “I didn’t realize until recently that I could advocate for a community that I’m not a part of. It’s hard to know how to do that without being so fearful of making a mistake that you just freeze. Because my mistakes are very loud. When I make a mistake, it echoes through the canyons of the world. It’s clickbait, and it’s a part of my life story, and it’s a part of my career arc.”

I’d argue that no heterosexual woman can listen to “You Need to Calm Down” and hear only a gay anthem. “Calm down” is what controlling men tell women who are angry, contrary, or “hysterical,” or, let’s say, fearing for their physical safety. It is what Panic! at the Disco singer Brendon Urie says to Swift in the beginning of the “ME!” music video, prompting her to scream, “Je suis calme!”

I cannot believe it is a coincidence that Swift, a numbers geek with an affinity for dates, dropped the single—whose slow, incessant bass is likely to be bumping in stadiums across the world in 2020 if she goes on tour—on June 14, a certain president’s birthday.

IT'S ENLIGHTENING to read 13 years of Taylor Swift coverage—all the big reviews, all the big profiles—in one sitting. You notice things.

How quickly Swift went from a “prodigy” (The New Yorker) and a “songwriting savant” (Rolling Stone) to a tabloid fixture, for instance. Or how suspect her ambition is made to seem once she acquires real power.

Other plot points simply look different in the light of #MeToo. It is hard to imagine that Swift’s songs about her exes would be reviewed as sensationally today. I wonder if, in 2019, any man would dare grab the microphone out of a young woman’s hands at an awards show. I stared into space for a good long while when I was reminded that Pitchfork did not review Taylor Swift’s 1989 but did review Ryan Adams’s cover album of Taylor Swift’s 1989.

I ask Swift if she had always been aware of sexism. “I think about this a lot,” she says. “When I was a teenager, I would hear people talk about sexism in the music industry, and I’d be like, I don’t see it. I don’t understand. Then I realized that was because I was a kid. Men in the industry saw me as a kid. I was a lanky, scrawny, overexcited young girl who reminded them more of their little niece or their daughter than a successful woman in business or a colleague. The second I became a woman, in people’s perception, was when I started seeing it.

“It’s fine to infantilize a girl’s success and say, How cute that she’s having some hit songs,” she goes on. “How cute that she’s writing songs. But the second it becomes formidable? As soon as I started playing stadiums—when I started to look like a woman—that wasn’t as cool anymore. It was when I started to have songs from Red come out and cross over, like ‘I Knew You Were Trouble’ and ‘We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together.’ ”

Those songs are also more assertive than the ones that came before, I say. “Yeah, the angle was different when I started saying, I knew you were trouble when you walked in. Basically, you emotionally manipulated me and I didn’t love it. That wasn’t fun for me.”

I have to wonder if having her songwriting overlooked as her hits were picked apart and scrutinized wasn’t the biggest bummer of all. Swift: “I wanted to say to people, You realize writing songs is an art and a craft and not, like, an easy thing to do? Or to do well? People would act like it was a weapon I was using. Like a cheap dirty trick. Be careful, bro, she’ll write a song about you. Don’t stand near her. First of all, that’s not how it works. Second of all, find me a time when they say that about a male artist: Be careful, girl, he’ll use his experience with you to get—God forbid—inspiration to make art.”

Without question the tenor of the Taylor Swift Narrative changed most dramatically in July 2016, when Kim Kardashian West called her a “snake” on Twitter, and released video clips of Swift and Kanye West discussing the lyrics to his song “Famous.” (No need to rehash the details here. Suffice it to say that Swift’s version of events hasn’t changed: She knew about some of the lyrics but not others; specifically, the words that bitch.) The posts sparked several hashtags, including #TaylorSwiftIsASnake and #TaylorSwiftIsCanceled, which quickly escalated into a months-long campaign to “cancel” Swift.

To this day Swift doesn’t think people grasp the repercussions of that term. “A mass public shaming, with millions of people saying you are quote-unquote canceled, is a very isolating experience,” she says. “I don’t think there are that many people who can actually understand what it’s like to have millions of people hate you very loudly.” She adds: “When you say someone is canceled, it’s not a TV show. It’s a human being. You’re sending mass amounts of messaging to this person to either shut up, disappear, or it could also be perceived as, Kill yourself.”

An overhaul was in order. “I realized I needed to restructure my life because it felt completely out of control,” Swift says. “I knew immediately I needed to make music about it because I knew it was the only way I could survive it. It was the only way I could preserve my mental health and also tell the story of what it’s like to go through something so humiliating.”

State of Grace Dior bodysuit and skirt. Photographed by Inez & Vinoodh, Vogue, September 2019

I get a sense of the whiplash Swift experienced when I notice that, a few months into this ordeal, while she was writing the songs that would become her album Reputation—and fighting off Mueller’s lawsuit—a portion of the media and internet began demanding to know why she hadn’t un-canceled herself long enough to take a position in the presidential election.

On that: “Unfortunately in the 2016 election you had a political opponent who was weaponizing the idea of the celebrity endorsement. He was going around saying, I’m a man of the people. I’m for you. I care about you. I just knew I wasn’t going to help. Also, you know, the summer before that election, all people were saying was She’s calculated. She’s manipulative. She’s not what she seems. She’s a snake. She’s a liar. These are the same exact insults people were hurling at Hillary. Would I be an endorsement or would I be a liability? Look, snakes of a feather flock together. Look, the two lying women. The two nasty women. Literally millions of people were telling me to disappear. So I disappeared. In many senses.”

Swift previewed Reputation in August 2017 with “Look What You Made Me Do.” The single came with a lyric video whose central image was an ouroboros—a snake swallowing its own tail, an ancient symbol for continual renewal. Swift wiped her social-media feeds clean and began posting video snippets of a slithering snake. The song was pure bombast and high camp. (Lest there be any doubt, the chorus was an interpolation of a ’90s camp classic, Right Said Fred’s “I’m Too Sexy.”) Nonetheless, most critics read it as a grenade lobbed in the general direction of Calabasas.

One longtime Nashville critic, Brian Mansfield, had a more plausible take: She was writing sarcastically as the “Taylor Swift” portrayed in the media in a bid for privacy. “Yeah, this is the character you created for me, let me just hide behind it,” she says now of the persona she created. “I always used this metaphor when I was younger. I’d say that with every reinvention, I never wanted to tear down my house. ’Cause I built this house. This house being, metaphorically, my body of work, my songwriting, my music, my catalog, my library. I just wanted to redecorate. I think a lot of people, with Reputation, would have perceived that I had torn down the house. Actually, I just built a bunker around it.”

IN MARCH, the snakes started to morph into butterflies, the vampire color palette into Easter pastels. When a superbloom of wildflowers lured a mesmerizing deluge of Painted Lady butterflies to Los Angeles, Swift marked it with an Instagram post. She attended the iHeartRadio Music Awards that night in a sequin romper and stilettos with shimmery wings attached.

Swift announced the single “ME!” a month later, with a large butterfly mural in Nashville. In the music video for the (conspicuously) bubblegum song, a hissing pastel-pink snake explodes into a kaleidoscope of butterflies. One flutters by the window of an apartment, where Swift is arguing in French with Urie. A record player is playing in the background. “It’s an old-timey, 1940s-sounding instrumental version of ‘You Need to Calm Down,’ ’’ Swift says. Later, in the “Calm Down” video, Swift wears a (fake) back tattoo of a snake swarmed by butterflies.

We are only two songs in, people. Lover, to be released on August 23, will have a total of 18 songs. “I was compiling ideas for a very long time,” Swift says. “When I started writing, I couldn’t stop.” (We can assume the British actor Joe Alwyn, with whom Swift has been in a relationship for nearly three years, provided some of the inspiration.)

Swift thinks Lover might be her favorite album yet. “There are so many ways in which this album feels like a new beginning,” she says. “This album is really a love letter to love, in all of its maddening, passionate, exciting, enchanting, horrific, tragic, wonderful glory.”

In Focus Swift’s new 18-track album, Lover, will be released August 23. Hermès shirt. Chanel pants. Maximum Henry belt. Photographed by Inez & Vinoodh, Vogue, September 2019

I have to ask Swift, given how genuinely at peace she seems, if part of her isn’t thankful, if not for the Great Cancellation of 2016, then for the person she now is—knowing who her friends are, knowing what’s what. “When you’re going through loss or embarrassment or shame, it’s a grieving process with so many micro emotions in a day. One of the reasons why I didn’t do interviews for Reputationwas that I couldn’t figure out how I felt hour to hour. Sometimes I felt like: All these things taught me something that I never could have learned in a way that didn’t hurt as much. Five minutes later, I’d feel like: That was horrible. Why did that have to happen? What am I supposed to take from this other than mass amounts of humiliation? And then five minutes later I’d think: I think I might be happier than I’ve ever been.”

She goes on: “It’s so strange trying to be self-aware when you’ve been cast as this always smiling, always happy ‘America’s sweetheart’ thing, and then having that taken away and realizing that it’s actually a great thing that it was taken away, because that’s extremely limiting.” Swift leans back in the cocoon and smiles: “We’re not going to go straight to gratitude with it. Ever. But we’re going to find positive aspects to it. We’re never going to write a thank-you note.”

Though people will take the Perry-Swift burger-and-fries embrace in the “You Need to Calm Down” video as a press release that the two have mended fences, Swift says it’s actually a comment on how the media pits female pop stars against one another. After Perry sent Swift an (actual) olive branch last year, Swift asked her to be in the video: “She wrote back, This makes me so emotional. I’m so up for this. I want us to be that example. But let’s spend some time together. Because I want it to be real. So she came over and we talked for hours.

“We decided the metaphor for what happens in the media,” Swift explains, “is they pick two people and it’s like they’re pouring gasoline all over the floor. All that needs to happen is one false move, one false word, one misunderstanding, and a match is lit and dropped. That’s what happened with us. It was: Who’s better? Katy or Taylor? Katy or Taylor? Katy or Taylor? Katy or Taylor? The tension is so high that it becomes impossible for you to not think that the other person has something against you."

Meanwhile, the protesters in the video reference a real-life religious group that pickets outside Swift’s concerts, not the white working class in general, as some have assumed. “So many artists have them at their shows, and it’s such a confounding, confusing, infuriating thing to have outside of joyful concerts,” she tells me. “Obviously I don’t want to mention the actual entity, because they would get excited about that. Giving them press is not on my list of priorities.”

At one point, Swift asks if I would like to hear two other songs off the new album. (Duh.) First she plays “Lover,” the title track, coproduced by Jack Antonoff. “This has one of my favorite bridges,” she says. “I love a bridge, and I was really able to go to Bridge City.” It’s a romantic, haunting, waltzy, singer-songwritery nugget: classic Swift. “My heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue,” she sings. “All’s well that ends well to end up with you.”

Next, Swift cues up a track that “plays with the idea of perception.” She has often wondered how she would be written and spoken about if she were a man, “so I wrote a song called ‘The Man.’ ” It’s a thought experiment of sorts: “If I had made all the same choices, all the same mistakes, all the same accomplishments, how would it read?” Seconds later, Swift’s earpods are pumping a synth-pop earworm into my head: “I’d be a fearless leader. I’d be an alpha type. When everyone believes ya: What’s that like?”

Swift wrote the first two singles with Joel Little, best known as one of Lorde’s go-to producers. (“From a pop-songwriting point of view, she’s the pinnacle,” Little says of Swift.) The album is likely to include more marquee names. A portrait of the Dixie Chicks in the background of the “ME!” video almost certainly portends a collaboration. If fans are correctly reading a button affixed to her denim jacket in a recent magazine cover, we can expect one with Drake, too.

Eyes On Her Designer Stella McCartney on her friendship with Swift: “In London we’ll go on walks and talk about everything—life and love.” Stella McCartney coat. In this story: hair, Christiaan; makeup, Fulvia Farolfi. Photographed by Inez & Vinoodh, Vogue, September 2019

She recently announced a fashion collection with Stella McCartney to coincide with Lover. “We met at one of her shows,” says McCartney, “and then we had a girls’ night and kind of jumped straight in. In London we’ll go on walks and talk about everything—life and love.” (Swift has no further fashion ambitions at the moment. “I really love my job right now,” she tells me. “My focus is on music.”) Oh, and that “5” on the bullseye? Track five is called “The Archer.”

Yet something tells me the most illuminating clue for reading both Lover and Reputation may be Loie Fuller, the dancer to whom Swift paid homage on tour. As Swift noted on a Jumbotron, Fuller “fought for artists to own their work.” Fuller also used swirling fabric and colored lights to metamorphose onstage, playing a “hide-and-seek illusionist game” with her audience, as one writer has put it. She became a muse to the Symbolists in Paris, where Jean Cocteau wrote that she created “the phantom of an era.” The effect, said the poet Stéphane Mallarmé, was a “dizziness of soul made visible by an artifice.” Fuller’s most famous piece was “Serpentine Dance.” Another was “Butterfly Dance.”

SWIFT HAS HAD almost no downtime since late 2017, but what little she does have is divided among New York, Nashville, Los Angeles, and Rhode Island, where she keeps homes—plus London. In an essay earlier this year, she revealed that her mother, Andrea Swift, is fighting cancer for a second time. “There was a relapse that happened,” Swift says, declining to go into detail. “It’s something that my family is going through.”

Later this year, she will star in a film adaptation of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Catsas Bombalurina, the flirtatious red cat. “They made us the size of cats by making the furniture bigger,” she says. “You’d be standing there and you could barely reach the seat of a chair. It was phenomenal. It made you feel like a little kid.”

But first, she will spend much of the summer holding “secret sessions”—a tradition wherein Swift invites hundreds of fans to her various homes to preview her new music. “They’ve never given me a reason to stop doing it,” she says. “Not a single one.”

Speaking of: Inquiring fans will want to know if Swift dropped any more clues about how to decode Lover during this interview. For you I reviewed the audio again, and there were a few things that made my newly acquired Swifty sense tingle.

At one point she compared superstardom in the digital age to life in a dollhouse, one where voyeurs “can ‘ship’ you with who they want to ‘ship’ you with, and they can ‘favorite’ friends that you have, and they can know where you are all the time.” The metaphor was precise and vivid and, well, a little too intricately rendered to be off the cuff. (Also, the “ME!” lyric: “Baby doll, when it comes to a lover. I promise that you’ll never find another like me.”)

Then there was the balloon—a giant gold balloon in the shape of a numeral seven that happened to float by while we were on her roof, on this, the occasion of her seventh album. “Is it an L’?” I say. “No, because look, the string is hanging from the bottom,” she says.

It might seem an obvious symbolic gesture, deployed for this interview, except for how impossible that seems. Swift let me control the timing of nearly everything. Moreover, the gold seven wasn’t floating up from the sidewalk below. It was already high in the sky, drifting slowly toward us from down the street. She would have had to control the wind, or at least to have studied it. Would Taylor Swift really go to such elaborate lengths for her fans? This much I know: Yes, she would.

Taylor Swift Talks Googling Herself, Which Celebrity's Closet She'd Raid, and the Bravest Thing She's Ever Done:

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pebble-xo · 6 years ago

Text

Alone (b2)

prologue; part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight; part nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve; part thirteen; part fourteen; part fifteen; part sixteen; part seventeen; part eighteen; epilogue.

bonus scenes: one, two.

Chanyeol found his fiancé in the darkened nursery, body slumped over the edge of the cot to peer inside. He knew you could hear him coming, but you made no move towards him, simply letting him wrap his long arms around your waist and hold you close. Your attention was otherwise preoccupied by your son sleeping soundly in front of you.

“We’re going to be fine babe,” he told you in your head, feeling your anxiety wash over him through your connection. Today was the first time you would be leaving Cal since you gave birth and understandably you were worried about being separated.

You turned in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck to bring him closer. Even in the dimly lit room, he could still see the twinkle in your eyes that he loved so much. “I’m not worried about Cal,” you thought softly, your voice filling his head up like music that made his knees weak. “I’m worried about you.”

“What? Are you worried I’ll drop him on his head?” Chanyeol retorted, internally feigning hurt.

Your lips broke out in a warm smile - the type of smile that made Chanyeol feel right at home. “That’s exactly what I think,” you teased, although Chanyeol could tell there was a hint of seriousness in your thoughts.

Dipping his face low, he pressed his forehead against yours, surrounding you completely in body and mind. “We’ll be fine babe,” he told you out loud, still hushed so his voice didn’t wake Cal.

He had hoped his touch would’ve soothed your anxiety, but it was still there in the deep recesses of your mind, immune to Chanyeol’s gentle touch. “Maybe I shouldn’t go today. It’s only a spa day with Talia, she’d understand,” you said without moving your lips, starting up the internal conversation again. You ducked your head under Chanyeol’s chin and snuggled into his chest, tightening your grip as if to say this was where you wanted to stay.

A soft smile stretched up on Chanyeol’s lips as he ran his hands up and down your spine in an attempt to comfort you. “Babe, you and I both know that Talia will drag you out to the spa if she has to.”

Right on cue, the doorbell rang through your apartment.

Just like you, Chanyeol immediately peered into the cot to make sure Cal was still sleeping without interruption, which he was. Only then did the pair of you let out the breaths you had been holding in.

You unwrapped yourself from Chanyeol’s embrace, leaning over into the cot to give your son the gentlest of kisses on his flushed cheek. “Look after Dada for me,” you whispered, just loud enough for Chanyeol to hear.

“Your lack of faith really hurts me,” he murmured directly to your head, giving you a playful slap over your bum as he left you with your moment with Cal.

He waited outside the nursery for you, his heart dropping when you appeared - eyes a little teary and your heartbeat pounding hard and fast in Chanyeol’s soul. Immediately you moved into the little circle his arms created, seeking any inch of skin for a taste of his soothing touch. His delicate fingers brushed past the nape of your neck, slamming you both with each other’s calm.

“Please don’t close me off today,” you whispered, your voice cracking with a vulnerability that made his heart hurt. Chanyeol knew how hard it was for you to leave Cal, even for a few hours.

“I won’t,” he replied in his head, making sure his whole mind was open for you to explore. Nowadays neither of you closed your minds off entirely unless one of you were trying to hide a surprise from the other. Both of you much preferred living in each other’s heads a little.

Together you stayed, just for a moment, wrapped up in each other’s thoughts and touch. This was what it meant to be soulmates, to share everything without words. Chanyeol could feel your anxiety as if it was coursing through his own veins, and through his touch, he was able to take some of the ache away.

You stepped back first, blinking away the tears that had built up in the corners of your eyes. “You’ll let me know if anything happens, right?” you pleaded, your lips pinched together.

Chanyeol nodded, reaching out to smooth your hair back, just to touch you once more. “We’ll be fine babe. You have nothing to worry about,” he consoled, letting his fingers slip off your cheek. “Now go before Talia kicks the door down.”

Your heavenly laugh echoed straight to Chanyeol’s heart, making it stutter over the rush of love he felt for you. “You know she would never ruin her shoes by kicking the door. That’s what the battering ram in her car is for,” you joked, leaving his embrace to grab your coat and bag from the counter by the door.

He followed behind you, in two minds whether to let you walk out the front door or wrap you up in his arms and pull you back to bed. Listening to his thoughts, you peeked over your shoulder and smiled demurely into the collar of your coat. “You’re making it so hard to leave,” you murmured softly, the worry returning to the forefront of your mind.

Chanyeol frowned, waiting for you to wrestle your arms into your coat before swinging the front door open for you. “Make sure you have fun and relax” he told you with a warm smile. “Cal and I will be fine. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Famous last words,” you teased, shouldering your bag in front of Chanyeol. “There are bottles already made up in the kitchen and the changing bag has everything if you go out-.”

“Will you just go already?” he interrupted, dipping his head to dot a little kiss on the corner of your mouth. “I promise I won’t burn the apartment down,” he added, with another press of his lips

You rolled your eyes at him. “Oh yeah, because that’ll ease my nerves,” you remarked sarcastically, softly caressing his cheek with your feather-like touch. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Chanyeol replied in a sweet thought, closing the door behind you.

Perfectly timed, Cal woke up from his long sleep, his loud cries echoing through the quiet apartment. With heavy sigh, Chanyeol ran his hands through his hair and hurried to collect his son. He had a funny feeling this was going to be the longest day of his life.

-x-

“Cal, this is the third outfit of the day that you’ve ruined,” Chanyeol groaned, hoisting his yoghurt-covered son out of his highchair. The first was because he ate his banana too quickly and threw up all down himself. The second was after a very unfortunate mess created in his nappy. Chanyeol couldn’t believe his luck.

Cal squealed excitedly, oblivious to the chaos he’d created. His two tiny hands reached out, smearing yoghurt all over Chanyeol’s white t-shirt. “And now I need a wash too,” he added with a hard laugh. Cal found the whole thing hilarious and kept licking the yoghurt off his fingers.

No longer worried about keeping clean, Chanyeol cradled his son close and carried him into the bathroom, fitting the plug in place and turning the taps on so the bath could slowly fill up. “We’ll have a nice bath together, right Cal?” he said brightly, picking up the little rubber duck and squeezing it in Cal’s face.

He burst out laughing, gripping the rubber duck in his small fist and putting the head straight into his mouth to chew on. His baby teeth were breaking through, meaning everything he could get his hands on went straight into his mouth.

Keeping his son on his hip, Chanyeol walked through the apartment for his phone. He was expecting an email from someone at the office to make sure everything was surviving without him for the day. But as he swiped at the screen, he saw he had received nothing. Surely if something was going wrong, they would have called or emailed straight away. Still, the lack of contact worried him.

“Hey Cal, shall we go to Dada’s work after our bath?” he asked, looking down at his son’s big brown eyes. He inherited those for him, along with his dark head of hair and sticky-out ears, whereas he seemed to have your nose and full lips. “In the beep-beep?”

There were a few words Cal had mastered so far. ‘Beep-beep’ meant any vehicle with wheels, but he especially loved cars. ‘Yum-yum’ meant food. And of course he knew ‘mama’, although he was yet to master ‘dada’ - much to Chanyeol’s disappointment.

“Beep-beep!” Cal chimed cutely, throwing the rubber duck on the floor so he could clap his grubby hands together. “BEEP-BEEP!”

“Yes, beep-beep,” Chanyeol exclaimed, retrieving the duck on his way back to the bathroom. “But first, we need to get cleaned up.”

Cal loved bath time: splashing in the water, all the toys floating around him. He even loved washing his hair, which you and Chanyeol were very thankful for judging by the stories Minseok and Iris told about bathing their daughter Arwen. As soon as he saw the water, he tried to wriggle out of his father’s grip, babbling away about his excitement in his own language.

Sitting him on the little bath mat, Chanyeol checked the temperature of the bath and then switched the water off. “Let’s get you nice and clean,” he announced, maneuvering Cal out of his yoghurt-drenched clothes and placing him in the warm water.

Chanyeol quickly joined, peeling his clothes off and climbing in the bath opposite Cal. Together they played with little boats and splashed half the water up the walls, only getting out when the water started to get cold.

“Shall we get dressed in matching outfits?” Chanyeol asked enthusiastically, earning a high squeal from his little boy as he wrapped him up in a fluffy towel and carried him down the hall to the nursery. “Do you wanna dress like Dada?”

Cal just laughed, slapping his little palms lightly on Chanyeol’s bare forearm until he was placed in the middle on the floor in front of the little wardrobe in the corner of his room. “Stay there for a minute,” he told him, not that Cal would listen. As soon as he stood up straight, Cal was off, rolling out of the towel onto his front and crawling across the carpet for toys.

Huffing to himself, Chanyeol easily swooped down and returned Cal to his original position, only for him to wriggle off naked in search of fun. He knew he had to give you more credit: you made taking care of Cal look so easy but Chanyeol felt like he was bordering on exhaustion after just one morning. After wrapping Cal up in the towel for a fourth time, he gave him his favourite squidgy hippo for him to chew on.

Thankfully, that was enough to keep him entertained while Chanyeol dressed him in a black striped t-shirt and light blue jeans and his first pair of black Converse. Maybe he’d be able to keep this outfit clean for more than an hour.

Then placing Cal in his favourite bouncer, Chanyeol hurried to get dressed himself, matching his son with a long-sleeved striped t-shirt and ripped jeans. He picked up his phone to tell the office he was on his way, but decided to surprise them instead. He liked to see what his team got up to when he was away.

In the living room, Cal was bouncing happily, stretching out his leg muscles. Another month or two in the bouncer and Chanyeol reckoned his little boy’s legs would be strong enough to handle walking. At the moment, he could stand himself up, but only for ten seconds at the most.

“All ready for the beep-beep Cal?” he asked in a strangely high-pitched voice.

Cal screamed in pure excitement, almost breaking the springs in his bouncer.

Chanyeol rushed to grab the bottles from the kitchen and stuff them in the changing bag his wonderful fiancé had already packed, leaving the bag by his briefcase at the front door. Then he retrieved his hyperactive son and kept him pressed up against his chest.

“BEEP-BEEP! BEEP-BEEP! BEEP-BEEP!” he cheered enthusiastically all the way down to the underground car park. The sight of all the cars made Cal squealed, dark brown eyes innocent and wide. He tried fervently to wrestle out of Chanyeol’s hold so he could try and drive every single car he laid eyes on. But he kept a tight grip, only letting him go when he was in his car seat.

Throwing the bags into the boot of the car, Chanyeol climbed up into the driver’s seat of his Mercedes. Cal was still in a rear-facing car seat but thanks to a mirror on the headrest, Chanyeol could easily keep an eye on his son through the rearview mirror. “Do you wanna listen to some music Cal?” he asked, already turning on the stereo system.

“Yay!” his son cheered, clapping his hands and wriggling his legs.

Choosing his son’s favourite playlist, the upbeat guitars of The Beatles’ ‘All My Loving’ played through the speakers. Immediately Cal started to dance, swaying from side to side and bobbing his head along to the music.

Chanyeol couldn’t help but beam with pride as he drove out of the underground carpark. He obviously wanted Cal to take his own path in life, but the fact that he loved music so much at such a young age made his heart soar.

-x-

As Chanyeol pulled into his reserved space at the main office, he checked on Cal in his mirror and spied the little boy fast asleep. At last a bit of quiet. He slowly turned the engine off and with that the music, pausing to just enjoy the first moment of silence he’d had all day.

Eventually though, he had to get into the office. Doing his best not to wake his son, he gently lifted him out of his car seat and cradled him against his chest while he retrieved his bags. Then he carried him into the building, nodding to his staff as he entered and reached the lift.

When he got to his department’s floor, he opened the frosted glass doors and said hello to his team, grinning at their shocked expressions. They all scrambled to explain how their tasks were coming along but Chanyeol placed a finger to his lips and stepped further in to reveal Cal still sleeping. “Can I just get the revised version of the contracts in my office please?” he asked, leaving them to their work with a soft close of the doors.

At the other end of the corridor, he entered his office and immediately settled Cal down on one of the sofas, surrounding him in the little cushions and covering him in a blanket from his changing bag. Hopefully he’d sleep a little longer so he could get some work done.

Sliding into his leather chair, he fired up his computer and read through the notes that had been left on his desk. Nothing urgent needed his attention so while he waited for the contracts he had requested, he closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift to you.

You sensed his attention immediately. After years together, the pair of you had become so attuned to each other’s presence in your minds. It was like feeling complete and whole.

“How are my boys doing?” you asked softly, your voice like a gentle caress of silk slipping across his soul.

Chanyeol leaned back in his chair, losing himself in the warmth of your presence. “Exhausted, but only one of us is allowed to take an afternoon nap,” he joked, hearing your laughter echo around in his head like music. “How’s the spa?”

Your morning flashed through his mind in a series of images: swimming in a pool, eating breakfast in a greenhouse surrounded by countryside. “So relaxing,” you hummed happily. “We’re in a sauna at the moment and then I have a deep tissue massage booked in half an hour.”

Chanyeol groaned under his breath. “If you’re trying to make me jealous, it’s working,” he told you, wishing he had a deep tissue massage scheduled in thirty minutes instead of trying to juggle sorting out these contracts and entertaining an eleven month old.

“Why are you at the office?” you questioned.

He opened his eyes and rubbed them gently, signing into his computer and pulling his emails up on the screen. “I just needed to drop by and sort the team out, but don’t worry we won’t stay long and I’m going to take Cal to the playground afterwards to make it up to him,” he explained quickly.

You smiled, the warmth of it spreading through your connection and radiating across his whole body. “Just don’t have too much fun without me,” you replied.

“I could say the same to you,” he retorted, lifting his head to the sharp knock on his office door. His eyes immediately darted to the sofa, to make sure the noise didn’t wake Cal, but his son didn’t even stir.

“I’ll leave you to your business. Squeeze Cal for me,” you quickly added, withdrawing from his mind to leave him with an aching sense of emptiness in his heart.

Shaking off the disorientation that came with losing yourself in your soulmate’s thoughts, Chanyeol ran his hands through his hair and pushed his tall body out of his chair, moving to let his team into his office. Thankfully, not all of them came, only his assistant Olly and his most promising employee Kalani. Still he reminded them to be quiet for Cal and beckoned them to the series of seats surrounding his desk, gladly accepting the coffee Olly passed to him. “Let me see those contracts then,” he began, falling into his chair and taking a long gulp of some much-needed caffeine.

-x-

Cal managed to nap through most of the meeting, inevitably waking up with a whimpering cry when Chanyeol was going through the last two pages of the contract revisions. Switching to dad mode instantly, Chanyeol jumped to his feet and wrapped his son up in his arms, grabbing his hippo to chew on while he finished with the contracts.

The meeting wrapped up nice and swift, thanks to Cal needing a new nappy. Thankfully Chanyeol had made his last revision. “You two go back and sort that problem out,” he told Kalani and Olly, passing the contract back across his desk. “I will catch up with you once I have sorted out this problem.”

His employees laughed lightly under their breath and nodded politely, exiting his office quickly before the smell made the room unbearable. Chanyeol grimaced down at his son who was beaming up at him proudly. “You sure know how to clear a room,” he joked, earning an adorable babble in reply. Once Cal was in a fresh nappy, Chanyeol sat him up on the sofa and gave him some biscuits to nibble on.

“Shouldn’t he be wearing a bib or something?” a low voice asked from the other side of the office, making Chanyeol twist in his crouched position to find his youngest brother lingering by the door with a smirk on his face.

“So a couple evenings of babysitting and suddenly you think you’re a baby expert?” he retorted, reaching over to grab a bib from the changing bag.

Sehun laughed, running a long hand through his dark hair. “I just heard some of your team grumbling in the canteen about your surprise visit to the office on your day off and thought I would pop by and see if I could help,” he explained with a smile.

This was why Chanyeol loved having such a big family.

“Could you look after Cal for an hour while I make some phone calls?” he asked sweetly, grinning from ear to ear.

His younger brother pinched his lips together in deliberation, eyes wary as they glanced over at Cal, seemingly innocent as he happily sucked on his biscuit. In the end though, Cal’s cuteness won over. Sehun’s expression softened and he gave in easily. “Just don’t tell Sofia, ok?” he insisted, hiking up his tailored trousers as he crossed the office. “Don’t want her getting ideas!”

“Your secret’s safe with us,” Chanyeol laughed, packing up Cal’s changing bag and passing it for his brother to shoulder. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

“I’ll try and return him in one piece,” Sehun joked, hoisting his nephew on his hip and tickling his tummy to make him giggle. “Come on Cal, let’s see if those cute Dumbo ears will get us some free chocolate cake,” he continued, already walking out out of Chanyeol’s office.

“Don’t give him any sugar,” Chanyeol called out, sighing as his words fell on deaf ears.

Great, now he was going to have to deal with a hyperactive Cal all evening.

-x-

You leaned through the open passenger window into Talia’s car, checking the time on her dashboard. It was late; later than you had expected to be but Chanyeol convinced you to stay out and enjoy yourself. Still you were eager to get home to your boys, the whole day apart leaving you weary and withdrawn.

“Thank you for today Tal. It was nice to take a little break from Mummy life,” you joked, stretching further to place a little kiss on your best friend’s cheek.

Talia blushed a little, beaming a huge smile up at you. “What are best friends for?” she replied, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. “Are we still taking Cal to the zoo this weekend?”

“Absolutely! Cal is so excited to see the bears,” you explained, slowly pulling yourself out of her car. The night air had a chill to it, making you hug your arms around your body. The pull to get inside to your fiancé and son was even stronger. “I’m not sure about times though. I think we’re going to a family dinner the night before.”

Talia waved you off with a flick of her hand. “Just text me babe,” she answered, turning the engine on with a loud rev. “Say hello to Chanyeol and Cal for me,” she added, blowing you a kiss through her open window before pulling out and speeding up the street.

The nocturnal breeze skimmed across your skin and had you hurrying for your apartment building. Once inside, you impatiently waited for the lift to take you to your floor. You wanted to check on Chanyeol in your head but stopped yourself, like you had done several times today. You didn’t want him to think you didn’t trust him with Cal.

Opening your front door quietly, you left your coat and bag on the hook and slipped out of your shoes. “Chanyeol?” you called out in a hushed voice, just in case Cal was already asleep. The apartment was quiet, which immediately made you suspicious.

But as you stepped into the living room, you were stopped in your tracks by the sweetest image your eyes would ever behold - Chanyeol and Cal cuddled up together on the sofa sound asleep. The sight melted your heart, a soft sigh escaping your lips at your sweet little family. They must have worn each other out.

“I need a picture of this,” you murmured to yourself, darting out of the room to retrieve your phone from your bag. Swiping up the screen, you quickly brought up your camera and took a couple of photos, already planning the perfect caption to go with it on Instagram.

Then stowing your phone in your pocket, you leaned over the sofa and slowly lifted Cal out of his father’s embrace. Chanyeol’s hands fell limply into his lap, while Cal wriggled and eventually snuggled into your neck. It felt so good to have your son back in your arms. Admittedly you had enjoyed your little break from changing nappies and cleaning up sick, but you’d missed Cal with all of your heart.

Holding him close, you carried him down the hallway to his bedroom, agily stepping around the toys that had been abandoned on the floor. By the looks of it, Cal had had a fun day. You planted a small kiss on the tip of his ear before lowering him into his cot, silently praying the movement wouldn’t disturb his dreams.

You weren’t that lucky though. Cal wriggled around his cot, his face scrunching up as a little cry spilled from his trembling lips. Immediately you tried to soothe him, leaning over and smoothing his hair off his face, letting him know Mama was home.

But he didn’t want you.

“Dada?” he whimpered before launching into another round of crying.

Believe me when I tell you I have been working on this for over a year but I’m finally happy enough with it to share it with you all. I hope you like this little snippet into the lives of the Alone soulmates! I was so happy to revisit these characters and I hope you all like this bonus scene.

Sending you all lots of love

Jade xo

[masterlist]

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