#well my plush franz is

[pr1nce-jubiii]

can our franz' be friends?!

Finished the doll! Franz from Fire emblem 8. My favourite little FE blorbo

[catgirlkirigiri]

Hey guys is it cool to draw your webkinz as furries. Doesn't matter I'm doing it anyway

[taesanluv3r]

as the sun rises.

myung jaehyun x reader

inspired by one of my fave romance movies 'before sunrise' <3 a lot of dialogue (some are directly taken from the movie, some parts are diff to match the characters obv!!), a lot of cuteness, some swear words, TW: mentions of death, mentions of sex (not smut). pls read under ur own discretion tysm! ignore any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. enjoyyy!!

wc: 6,528

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"no but i'm telling you honey, that's just not how it works! you never believe me when i say..."

a young and pretty girl sighs, trying her best to drown out the sound of the arguing couple as she leans against the seat of the train and stared deeper into the book in her hands. she can't really focus though, the aforementioned couple's quarrel only getting louder causing the girl to finally get off her seat in frustration to sit in another one just a few windows down the cart. as her body makes contact with the plush leather material once again, she can't help but feel a set of eyes fixed onto her. the girl furrows her eyebrows, slowly moving her gaze away from the book and over to the guy that sat directly adjacent to her on the other side of the train cart. they make eye contact, he's quite good looking. an asian man, about a couple centimetres taller than she was. and he, too, had a half-read book in hand.

the boy smiles at her first, she returns the gesture before reverting back to the page that remained opened. "what are you reading?" he suddenly speaks, and she looks up at him in surprise. "um, this" she replies, lifting up the paper-back to show him it's cover. pride and prejudice by jane austen. he nods, familiar with the infamous piece of literature. "and you?" she asks, eyes lingering at the hard-cover book in his hands. "ah" is all he says, lifting up the collection of paper so she could see it well. metamorphosis by franz kafka. she nods too, going back into reading mode, and he does as well. they don't say anything to each other for about three minutes or so until the guy abruptly shuts his book and turns his body fully in her direction.

"hey, i'm heading to the dining car...care to join me?" he's standing and she's sitting, their eyes stare into each other's for a moment before she smiles at him. "um...yeah, let me grab my bag" she doesn't notice but the boy has a sort of proud glint in his eyes, waiting patiently as she gathered her things and making way for her to walk in front of him.

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"so...that couple, huh?" the boy says, beginning to slice at the sausage on his english breakfast plate. the girl giggles, "yeah..." she looks at him intently, her eyebrows knitted together. he notices, tilting his head off to the side. "what? is there something on my face?" she laughs, "no, no! it's just...you're not from around here, huh?" he smirks, "that obvious?" they share a mutual laugh. "well, you're right. i'm here on holiday...er, maybe not a holiday. i'm not really sure what to call it...but anyways, i come from korea" her eyes widen and her lips form an oval shape as she nods in understanding. "your english is amazing" she states, "i'm jealous" and he chuckles, "yeah...i studied abroad for a while. and you? are you from here?" she shakes her head at his inquiry, "oh, no! i go to art school in france, i was just here to visit a friend" he nods, sighing as he stares out the window. "so...you're going back there, then? to france" the girl smiles, watching the trees and clouds that passed by outside the train cart. "mhm...and you are...?" he answers right away, "i get off in vienna, catching a flight back home from there tomorrow morning" the girl responds with a hum, "how's europe been? your not-so holiday trip" she asked and he looked up for a moment as if he were really thinking of a good answer. "it's beautiful, really..." the guy trails off, "...but?" she's curious, her gaze on him getting stronger. "i don't know...i guess being on trains for most of the trip and not really knowing where i'm going...it's just...is starting to get to me" she laughs at his response, taking a sip out of the iced tea that sat in front of her on the table.

"i think this is vienna..." the young woman says, watching the world that stood behind the large glass window. the young man nods, "guess that means i have to get off soon..." they shared a moment of silence, juxtaposing the way natural conversation seemed to ricochet among the pair for the past hour and a half or so that they sat in the dining car. "we have arrived in vienna, please be careful as you exit the cart and don't forget your belongings...have a safe trip!" the announcement sounded scratchy and muffled coming from the old speakers that stuck against most corners of the transport. "so...um...i guess this is goodbye" the guy says, retrieving his stuff and getting off of the seat. she nods, "have fun in vienna" and then he turns around to leave, the girl left all alone as she watched his figure slowly disappear. she sighs, some sort of uneasy feeling starting to rumble up in her stomach. surely he can't just leave like that? right?

and as if he could read her mind from miles away, the girl gasps when she is met with his face again. he looked out of breath, his hands entangled with the strap of his carry-on bag. she's confused, not really understanding what exactly was going on. she was about to speak, not being able to stand the silence that flowed between them. however, he spoke first, though his voice was still a little mumbly from the way he had ran right back into the cart. "come with me" is all he said to her, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. "what?" she asked, not believing the words that came out of his mouth. "c'mon, it's just one night. and i'm not gonna lie i really enjoyed talking to you and i know you feel this connection too and i think this short vienna trip would be a lot more...fun if you were around...?" the last bit of his slight monologue came off as a question, like he was almost unsure about whether taking a stranger off the train to a foreign country with him was a good idea. she laughs, "okay" is all she said, getting her stuff and standing in front of him. "okay?" he asked, eyes widened like he had just seen a ghost.

"yes! c'mon, the train's about to leave again, we have to get off"

the pair walked closely beside each other as they hopped off the train, the automatic doors shutting tight behind them. he grabs onto her bag, taking it away from her hand to help her carry it and she thanks him silently. they stop a few feet away from the train tracks, breathing in deeply to take in the new air. "so..." he starts suddenly, "what's your name?" she widens her eyes, giggling at the thought of agreeing to get off the train before even learning his name. "i'm yn" he smiles, "what a pretty name for a pretty girl, yn" she rolls her eyes, tilting up her head to look at him. "and you?" she asks, tumbling in a zig-zag pattern as they began to walk. he grins, the corners of his mouth pointing up as he did so.

"i'm jaehyun, it's nice to meet you"

the pair exchange a shake of their hands, giggling gleefully as they go from nameless strangers to familiar acquaintances. "so...jaehyun, where to?" she asks, playing with the fabric of her denim jacket, a finger moving up to loosely tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. the boy sighs, squinting his eyes as he takes in his surroundings. "i guess it's all up to fate now" he turns towards her, shooting yn a cheeky grin, his eyes disappearing as he did so to which she laughs, grabbing a confident hold onto his hand. the girl drags him along with her as she strides forward and towards a pretty bridge that stood above a body of water. as they approach it, a pair of local men come into sight. "should we ask them what to do? they seem to be from here" yn asks, a finger pointing towards the two figures in the distance. jaehyun nods, following her as she continued to walk. as they strut alongside each other, a sudden silence takes over them. the girl laughs out loud, and so does the boy. "what?" he asks, finding her sudden outburst amusing. "nothing it's just...a bit awkward?" he nods in agreement, "yeah. yeah it's a little bit awkward" the end of his statement comes out breathy as he breaks into a slight giggle, inflicting a similar sound from the giddy girl.

"excuse me, do you speak english?" yn's voice is soft and somewhat unsure, the two locals she had come up to tilted their heads of to the side skeptically. "yes of course we do. do you speak german for a change?" the pair looked at each other with puzzled looks as the two locals bursts into laughter. "nah, nah i'm just kidding- t'was a joke" then they all laughed. "look, we were just wondering what's fun to do around here, that's all" jaehyun follows up, his tone slightly stronger than the one the girl had previously shown. the two men look at each other and nod before turning to look at the pair again. "how long you here for?" one of them asks, a thick german accent seeping through as he spoke. "only for a night, we-" jaehyun was cut off, "what're you doing here just for one night, then? nothing much to do" the other local says rather aggressively, causing the foreign pair to chuckle in surprise. "we..." the korean boy begins to come up with some sort of a reasonable response, trailing off as he searched his mind for one. "we're on a honeymoon!" yn's sudden excuse catches him off guard, his eyes going wide as he stares at her in disbelief. "is that so?" the one with the thick accent wonders, an eyebrow cocking up in search of confirmation. "yeah...yes...yes!" the boy's voice is clear and confident now, proudly sticking his chest out as he wraps an arm around his faux fiancee.

"she got pregnant, we had to get married, and this is supposedly our- um, well, our honeymoon...yeah" the locals laugh again, "you're lying...a terrible liar, you are, yes" the german men share incoherent conversation with each other for a moment, leaving the foreign pair to watch and listen in confusion. just then, one of the two reveals a pamphlet from out his shirt pocket. "this is uh...this is a play we both star in. we wanted to invite you, so yeah" the korean boy gratefully accepts the paper, scanning through it intently. "what's it about?" yn asks, stroking her hair away as the wind blew against it. "it's about a cow and indians searching for it, also politicians...and stuff" one says, "i play the cow" the other follows. "yes and the cow has a disease...acting a bit strange like a dog" yn and jaehyun share another puzzled look, using all the strength in their body to hold in their laughs at the ridiculousness that escaped the mouths of the german strangers.

"as you can see, there's an address there" one says, pointing towards the obvious map in the pamphlet he had passed them earlier. "it's in the second district...near the prater, you know it? the prater.." he trails off, making a circular motion with his hands. "oh! the big ferris wheel? we should go" yn says, turning towards the boy beside her. "yeah we should" jaehyun replied, nodding as he agreed. "perhaps you can go to the prater before the play, it starts at twenty-one thirty" the foreign pair nod, thanking the odd locals before parting their ways with them and waltzing over to the garden nearby.

he watches as she skips and twirls against the cobblestone. her hair is one with the breeze, as she hums to an unknown tune. "this is a graveyard...i've been here once before when i was young" she explains as they walk through a collection of withered head-stones. "this one" yn says, stopping before a particularly gray grave. "she greatly impacted my life...she died when she was thirteen, and i must've been just that age when i went here the first time..." jaehyun nods, "must've been crazy to think that you were thirteen then, and you're older now..." she agrees, "and this girl will stay thirteen forever" the pair let out a harmonious sigh, staring down fondly at the cemetery scene. "c'mon, let's go catch a tram. my feet hurt" he says, reaching a hand out for her to take. "let's go, the tram stop is just around the corner"

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yn and jaehyun smile softly at each other as they took a seat on the tiny public transport. the seat just big enough for the two of them to sit, yet so very small that the skin of their arms tended to rub against each under as the vehicle began to skim through the city. "okay, i have an idea, you ready?" the boy speaks and she just hums in response. "it's Q&A time. we have to take turns asking each other some questions and then we have to answer honestly, okay?" she nods, "okay, yeah...sounds good- you first, you ask me" jaehyun smiles, "okay, um...when was the first time you had sexual feelings for someone?" his question shocks her a little, "wow, okay um...probably this hot swimmer guy i went to summer camp with...he was so so fine and he had the most defined set of abs and i think i just wanted him so bad...and you know, at the time, my friend had the biggest crush on him!" jae laughs at yn's answer, "wow...okay, your turn ask me something" yn took some time to really think of a good question, a smile making it's way onto her face as she finally finds one.

"have you ever been in love?"

she looks at him in the eyes as she asks the unnecessarily deep question, catching the way a slight glint appeared in his eyes and the way his lips quivered a bit before he replied. "yes. next question" her deeply focused expression turns into that of a look of bewilderment at his underwhelming answer. "what?! you're giving me a one word answer? after i told you the story of my sexual feelings towards a hot swimmer?" he laughs, "yes, yes i am" she's in shock, mouth hung opened as she shook her head. "that's so unfair" yn says but jaehyun argues, "hey! if you asked about my sex life i would answer too! but love...love is, it's complicated okay!" the girl rolls her eyes, "whatever! you could've made something up, at least" the boy sighs, a hand slapping against his forehead in surrender.

the pair spent the rest of their tram ride going back and forth, asking each other all sorts of questions ranging from deep and dark to silly things like what their favourite colours were. at one point they had decided to hop off the transport, their feet having enough rest and ready to take them to wherever deemed fitting for the day. i guess somehow, fate had taken them over to an old record shop. the place was vintage, the yellow walls were faded and they were greeted with a hefty breath of dust as they entered the store. yn blinks slowly as her delicate fingers run through all sorts of vinyls that were neatly sorted on the rack. jaehyun did the same right across from her. "ever heard of this singer? my friend told me about her, i think she's an english singer" the girl asks, lifting up a pretty looking album. on it's cover, a picture of a freckled girl with bleach blonde hair. "hm...beabadoobee? should we go listen to it?" the boy asks, a head tilted towards the listening room that sat at the very end of the shop. the girl nods, "i wonder if the record players here still even work..."

sure enough, they do work. the boy and the girl watching silently as the round vinyl began to spin under the sharp pin of the player. a sort of scratchy sound rang in their ears for a moment before it died down into the sound of sweet female vocals. they didn't know the name of the track, not really caring enough to check the list of songs that were displayed on the back side of the vinyl's cover. they didn't speak to each other, their backs leaned against the wooden sound-proof walls. 'how was your day? was it okay?' the female voice sang sweetly, the acoustic tune calming down their muscles they didn't even realize were beginning to tense up. jaehyun sneaks a look at her, averting his gaze hastily whenever yn caught him, and then they'd giggle bashfully, as if they were little kids discovering true love for the very first time.

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"there it is" yn says, looking up at the large ferris wheel at the center of prater park. "what are we waiting for, then?" jaehyun shoots her that smile she's gotten all too fond of, a contagious sight as she, too, grins happily. the girl takes hold of his hand, skipping excitedly over to the queue. not many people were waiting in line, just a few couples and families with their children. "wow..." the boy sighs, his arms hanging out of the window as he looks down at the view below him. "it's beautiful" he continues, moving closer to the center of the cart where she stood. "mhm...the sun's about to set too..." she states, watching as the pretty blue european skies get dim, and a slight orange tint began to paint against it. he finds himself staring at her, sure she'd catch his eye ever since the very moment he had caught a glimpse of her on the train this morning, but he swore nothing- none of that compared to the way he saw her right now. the sunset reflected off of yn's eyes, her hair a mess from all the wind, a soft smile placed delicately against her pink-ish lips. jaehyun just couldn't help himself, he couldn't let this sight of her go to waste, and only if she knew...if she knew how badly he wanted to-

"what is it?" her voice shakes him out of his trance. "huh?" he asks, shaking his head as his eyes meet her own. suddenly his mind goes blank, the boy who had been speaking oh so much all day was at a lost for words. "i...i uh...i just" the girl laughs, her arms moving away from where they sat at the rim of the ferris wheel cart and over to wrap lightly around his neck and against his shoulders. "are you trying to ask me to kiss you?" yn giggles again when a red tint engulfed the boy's cheeks and ears, a bashful look on his face as his gaze lingered onto her own. "i mean..." he begins, taking a single step closer to her. "i'm not opposed to it, are you?" the last thing jaehyun heard was a playful scoff, and the last thing he saw was her eyes rolling sarcastically to the back of her head. or at least that's all that he remembers before she closed off all the space they had between them, their tongues tangled against one another's as they breathed deeply into the kiss. they didn't realize how much they've been longing for a taste of each other until this very moment, what was supposed to be a sweet kiss against the sunset had slowly turned into something more hungry, thirsty like they've been starved for days prior. giddy, a term you must've read far too many times to describe the two strangers that met just hours ago on the train, but that's exactly what they were. so insanely giddy that they found themselves smiling and grinning like a bunch of circus clowns as their teeth tugged against their lips and their hands twisted against their hair.

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"i'm gonna call my friend from art school who i'm supposed to be having lunch with in a couple of hours, okay?" yn says suddenly, sitting across from jaehyun as they dined at a local restaurant not too far from the prater park. "okay" he says, though he sounds a bit unsure and his face showed just the same confusion as he watched her stick an imaginary phone beside her ear. "ring ring ring...pst, pick up the phone" she whispered the last bit, signalling for him to go along with her little skit. he obliges, creating a telephone shape with his own hand and pressing it lightly against his ear. "hello?" he speaks, she fails to hold in a laugh. "hi, it's me yn! listen...i don't think i'll make it to lunch today..." she nods, telling him it's his turn to speak. "oh no, are you okay?" the girl smiles, "well...i'm in vienna right now...i got off the train with this korean guy and-" she was cut off, "are you crazy?!" the boy exclaims in an awful french accent that he assumed her friends over in her parisian art school would have. "mhm..." jaehyun lets out a dramatic sigh, "why'd you get off with him?" she looked up in the air, deep in thought with her chin pressed against her palm. "well...he convinced me" she looked him straight in the eyes this time, not letting him interrupt her as she began to speak into the imaginary phone again. "he's this really interesting guy...we spoke of all sorts of things in the dining car on the train, he was reading metamorphosis by franz kafka, and i just felt some sort of a connection to him"

"well...what's he like?" now the boy was using this roleplay to his advantage, trying to make the most out of the situation and the fake phone call. "well he's taller than me, he's got kind eyes and a fond smile. he kind of mumbles when he talks but he's got this extroverted tone, the kind of person you'd feel warm around even during the winter time...he's kind of clumsy- oh! and he kisses like a dork" jaehyun's eyes go wide, "what?!" yn giggles, "yeah, we kissed...and as the night goes by i find myself liking him more and more..." she trails off, his gaze gets deeper, somewhat more intense. "you gonna see him again?" he asks, still in character. "we.." she stops for a moment, "we haven't talked about that yet" then the pair went silent, just basking into the atmosphere and taking their time to look into each other's sparkling eyes. yn sighs once, putting her hand down in a motion as if she were hanging up the call.

"your turn, go call one of your bros in korea"

jaehyun presses his hand against his ear again, "ring ring...it usually goes to voicemail..." yn laughs, "hey jae, what's up, my man?" she suddenly speaks in a deep voice, the change in octave caught him slightly off guard. "hey, woonhak- what's up bro, i'm alright" the boy says, his free hand toying with the silver cutlery that sat atop his plate. "how's europe? you leaving from vienna tomorrow right?" the girl had decided to rid herself of the previous faux-male voice, reverting back to her usual tone. "yeah, yeah man it's been great...i'm actually having the time of my life right now...and uh, i'll tell you why" the girl doesn't respond, only nodding to tell him to continue.

"i met this girl on the train and we got off at vienna together" jaehyun tells, as if the girl in question wasn't seated right across from him. "oh yeah? what's she like? she hot?" the boy laughs at the girl's awfully blunt response, wondering if that's what women thought men really sound like (they do). "there was this arguing couple that was so loud she had to move seats. she sat across from me reading a book and i decided to talk to her. we went to the dining car and talked for ages. she's smart- like, very smart. she goes to an art school in france. conversations with her seemed to be so natural...it was almost like we had some sort of a connection...but i was so scared i would say the wrong things to her" yn furrows her eyebrows, "but bro, you're never scared to talk to anyone!" she brought back the deep voice, snorting slightly as she fails to suppress a chuckle. he smiles, "i know man...it's just, i don't know...something about her...she makes me nervous"

the fake calls end there, the foreign pair paying for their meals before exiting the brightly lit restaurant. their fingers intertwined as they strolled down the streets of vienna. it was nighttime now, the scenery had become a different vibe from when they arrived earlier in the day. they had just past a beautiful street dancer, yn had explained to him that it was a prenatal dance, soon finding themselves in slight banter as they discussed the gender roles of men and women in society. yn had won the debate, jaehyun admitting defeat and simmering down with the excuse of fearing the wrath of an angered woman. the boy and the girl sat down at a table nearby a twenty-four hour cafe. "look at that..." she says, eyes pointing towards an old woman in a turban. a palm reader. "she looks interesting, no?" the boy nods slowly, "yeah...oh shit- shit, she's coming this way, oh god" the girl laughs, "oh fuck, we made eye-contact" in a matter of seconds, the old lady had appeared right in front of them. "hi...english or french?" yn asks, but she gets no answer, instead the palm reader just grabs at her hand, flipping it over to look intently at the wrinkles of her palm.

the lady drags her own finger against the skin, mumbling something to herself before looking the girl straight in the eyes. "you're a stranger to this place...you're a traveler, you seek adventure...what's more, you seek love. yet, you're a driving force, a strong minded girl..." the fortune teller trails off, dropping yn's hand and moving to grab a hold of jaehyun's. "and you...you'll be alright" the lack of depth in his reading must've felt unfair, a scoff escaping the boy's mouth as he stares at the older lady in disbelief. "now..." she croaks before rubbing her fingers in circular motions. the pair laugh, fishing their bags for some cash to hand over to the palm reading lady. she smiles softly, accepting the money before skipping away into the shadows to find another pair of tourists to rip off for a fortune.

"i just...there's no way you believe all that...do you?" jaehyun complains, his hands thrown up into the air in frustration. yn just laughs out loud, her arms wrapping around her own body to shield her from the cool nighttime air. "i mean...are you sure you're not just upset she didn't give you a great fortune?" the boy sighed, "she absolutely ripped us off!" the girl rolls her eyes, "whatever...you look too into things, you know? you're just upset you didn't hear what you wanted to" he gasps dramatically, "that is so not true! i'm just saying...she's using tourists and fake fantasies to make money and rip people off!" yn shakes her head, "you're so..." she trails off, stopping in her tracks to turn towards him. "i'm so...hot? sexy? fresh and cool? you so badly want to kiss me?" the girl sighs, "so insufferable" she says, watching the way his prideful smirk melts into a pout. "can't deny that you still so badly want to kiss me, though" he states, cupping her cheeks in his hands and leaning in to press his lips onto hers once again.

"huh..." yn sighs as they separate, their hands still intertwined with each other's. "what is it?" jaehyun asks, looking at her worriedly. "nothing...it's just funny to think that we won't see each other again after tomorrow" her words affected him more that he would've thought. "you mean...you don't think we'll ever see each other again?" his voice is sort of shaky, cracking a bit as if he were about to cry. "i mean, let's be realistic. you live in korea, i live in france..." he nods along with her sentences, "you're right..." he trails off, really trying his best not to cry right now. "but, i guess it's not a bad thing...we made the most of these past few hours, and we still have a few more to go, no?" she reasons, her hand unconsciously rubbing circular shapes against his. "yeah..." it's silent again for a moment. the only other sound apart from their breaths on this empty street was the live band that played a couple blocks away from them. "it's depressing though, isn't it?" yn speaks again, looking up at him with glossy eyes, noticing the way his gleamed as well. "hm?" jaehyun asked, "i mean now all we can probably think of is how much longer we have till we have to say goodbye" she bites her lip, still not breaking eye-contact with him. "then let's say goodbye now. so we won't have to do it again tomorrow" she smiles at his idea, nodding enthusiastically as they both fixed their posture to stand straight.

"goodbye" they say in unison. "au revoir" she says, giggling softly when he shoots her a toothy smile. "annyeong!" he says cheerfully, waving his hand around like an idiot.

by midnight the two had found themselves sprawled out against the grass, over at an empty plain of land in the depths of the city's large park, staring at the bright moon that gave light for people to see. "you know...i find myself caught up in special moments like staying up all night or dancing till the sunrise...i always knew those moments were special..." yn's voice quiets down, she can feel his gaze locked onto her face as she scans through the starry night sky. "but?" jaehyun asks, wanting her to keep talking. "but i always felt like something was wrong, like i wish i was doing all those things with someone else" they share a laugh. "but for some reason...i feel content with you- like there isn't a single flaw" he smiles, "do you think we'll have more moments like this?" she rolls her eyes, "what happened to being realistic, jaehyun?" the boy sighs, propping himself up on his forearm so he was almost hovering over her. "i know, but think about it..." he clears his throat and she shifts slightly to get a better view of his face.

"ten, fifteen years from now...we've been married for a couple years, gathering with all our new mutual friends. i'm getting a little too drunk, talking everyone's ear off about the same story about how we met on a train one day all by chance. everyone gets so tired of me yap on and on about how i fell in love with this girl, growing even more fond of her as the sun rises...and you come get me, tell me it's time to go home, tell me you'll drive cause i can't even walk in a straight line..." the boy's eyes wander off to the sky as he looks into his future fantasy, the girl can't help but smile as he went into immense detail, covering every part of their married life- as if just hours ago, they weren't mere strangers.

"are you saying you've managed to fall in love with me that quickly?" yn laughs, finding the way his cheeks flushed all too hilarious. "i mean...did i say that?" jaehyun tried to save himself, slumping down against the grass as he sighed in defeat, his hands went up to cover the embarrassment on his face. the girl sits up, turning to move his hands away so she could look at him. he stared up at her, a hint of longing in the way his dark brown orbs sparkled. she mimicked the same expression, like they were telepathically sending each other the same sort of signal. a signal that read in big bold letters.

kiss me.

the kiss was intense, his hands found home in the backside of her head, pulling her towards him and sending her body crashing down on top of his. lost in each other for a moment, the pair tossed and tumbled against the green grass, completely ignoring the fact that the leaves were starting to scratch against their skin, a high chance of a rash greeting them in the morning. they didn't even notice the way the skies were getting brighter, the sun rising all too quickly, before they could even process it.

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"last night...it was all like a dream" yn's voice is raspy, a mixture of the cool morning air and the events of the night prior. "yeah...lot's of fun" jaehyun agreed, his left hand sneaking up under his jacket to scratch at a spot that began to itch on his lower back. they walked close to each other, roaming the silent streets of vienna for one last time. they were unusually quiet. it's not that they ran out of things to talk about, it's just that they didn't really feel the need to speak right now. they passed by a large theatre, right by where they were at the parter last night. the girl smiles softly, "we didn't end up watching that play..." the boy laughs at the memory. a sudden sound of piano music stopped them in their tracks, they paused to look at each other. both their eyebrows knitted together and their eyes moving around frantically in search of the source.

"is that it?" jae wonders, crouching down to peak into a tiny window. "i think so..." the girl follows, smiling as she catches a glimpse of a young man, sat behind a large grand piano. his fingers moving swiftly in complex patterns as he taps on the black and white keys. "wow..." the boy whispers, fascinated by the musical number. he steps back from the window, beginning to step along to the beat. she laughs when he offers her a hand, "care to dance with me?" who was she to say no, gladly taking his hand in her own and allowing him to take the lead. they waltzed for a moment, sharing hushed laughs when she accidentally steps on his feet for the third time. the streetlights had begun to turn off, indicating that enough sunlight had surfaced over the area.

"we better head off to the station soon..." yn says, her head now sat on his lap as they relaxed on a bench somewhere in the city. jaehyun sighs, reminded that they'd have to part ways sooner or later. he strokes a finger through her hair, her eyes closing once before fluttering opened again. "i wish this could last forever..." he says, his eyebrows twitching and his eyes drooping ever so slightly. she hums, "yeah..."

before they knew it the pair had made it to the train station. he promised to see her off before he looked for his own train. "you sure you know where to go?" yn asked, slight worry at the thought of a lost puppy-like jaehyun. he nodded, "yes, don't worry"

"okay then..." the girl says, standing before him with her bags in hand, the train getting ready to depart making loud noises that rang in their ears. "i guess...i guess this is goodbye then" she continues, her tone is melancholy, almost depressed. "yeah...um...you know, i really- i, you know" the boy tries his best to speak but for some reason he couldn't seem to form any coherent sentences at the moment. she understood him though, nodding as he pressed his hands on either side of her shoulders, her own ones placed against his waist. "um..." he sighs and so does she, deciding it was a waste of time to speak before leaning in for a long and passionate kiss.

"listen..." jaehyun was out of breath, he didn't know if it was from the kiss they had just shared, or if it was because he could feel his heart pumping right out of his chest. "that thing we said last night about being realistic i- i don't want that, i wanna see you" yn's eyes widened at his words, "me too" now it was his turn to be shocked. "what- why didn't you say anything?" he asked, eyes softening as did hers. "i was afraid you didn't want to..." the boy shook her head, as if to say that were impossible. "okay then...why don't we meet here again?" she nods along with him. "in um...five years" her eyebrows furrowed, "five years? that's like torture" he agrees, "you're right...okay one year?" the girl smiles, "okay, one year" but he shakes his head, "how bout six months?" now she looked bewildered, "six months? it'll be freezing!" he laughed, "i don't care! c'mon, six months, same spot right here" yn nods, repeating his words to herself. "okay...i'll see you then"

their conversation is cut short by the whistling sound of the train horn, signalling that she had to leave in just a minute. "okay, i...i have to go" she stutters, still out of breath from this whole thing. "yeah, okay" he replies, pulling her in for one last kiss. as they parted, they made sure to stare at each other for just a little longer, savoring the way the breeze flowed through their messy hair, the way his eyes watered and the way her eyebrows turned upwards in sorrow.

"goodbye" he says, voice just above a whisper. "au revoir" she replies, beginning to let go of his hands. "annyeong!" he exclaims one last time, waving as she hops into the cart. jaehyun follows her through the window as she finds herself a seat to sit in. yn laughs to herself as the boy sends her about a billion flying kisses. however her smiles fade into that of a somber frown as the train begins to depart, his tall figure disappearing into the distance until he was completely out of sight.

jaehyun got onto a bus towards the airport not long after. no matter how exhausted he'd been from all his unexpected adventures in europe, the last thing the boy could do was sleep. instead, he sat wide awake all the way back to his home country. only one thing in his mind that he kept circling back to again and again and again. and as all cliche love stories go, you know exactly what it is that's got him so insanely worked up. it was the mere thought of her. of the girl he met by chance on a train, the girl he spent a night in a foreign country with, the girl he could talk to for hours..

the girl he fell more and more in love with as the sun began to rise.

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

YAYYYY!!! this ended up longer than i expected 😭 guys if u havent watched before sunrise i think u shld DEFINITELY watch it it's like one of the best romance movies EVERRR!! anyways i hope u enjoyed this, sorry for being so ia while i was on my holiday trip </3 will be back on the writing grind i promise 🫶 reblogs n feedbacks r greatly appreciated <3 dms n asks r always opened if u wanna talk to me!! love, kona.

[redbeanboi]

Excerpt from “Un Sospiro”

Sneak peak at my upcoming Giorno/Reader fic titled Un Sospiro, for my dear beanie babies!!! A Business Before Pleasure spinoff fic. 

Fic summary: They say that “Mozart makes babies smart,” but who’s going to tell Giorno that Mista accidentally got him tickets to listen to Franz Liszt for two hours?

Arranged marriage awkwardness galore!!! Title taken from one of my most favorite piano pieces of all time, Franz Liszt’s Concert Etude No. 3 in Db Major, better known by its nickname “Un sospiro.”

“There,” you sighed, finally satisfied with the arrangement you’d set for the toys in the nursery.

Truth be told, the baby was not born yet and they wouldn’t be playing with the toys until they were at least several months old, but something compelled you to organize them by color and height as soon as you returned from your visit to the doctor that morning. Plucking at a plush elephant’s ear, you hummed. Yes; this would do. For now, at any rate.

“Finally happy with those ridiculous stuffed toys?” your father asked dryly over the phone. “I’m sure they’ve gotten enough attention from you for today.”

“You’d be doing the same if you were here,” you shot back into the mouthpiece. “And it’s called ‘nesting’ for a reason, Patri.”

“Oh yes, of course. How silly of me to forget,” he sighed. “But I do hope this child will be appreciative of your attention to detail… But… do you need any other toys? Or perhaps I should send one of those silly contraptions that they make—oh, I can’t remember what they’re called. High chairs?”

“You seem rather dedicated,” you taunted. “Excited, even.”

“Of course I am. I never did meet my first grandchild.”

*******

“One day, you’ll present your son—my own grandson— to the rest of the Commission. He’ll be treated like royalty, that is for certain—”

“What if I have a girl?” you asked. 

He laughed. “You and your husband will probably have boys and girls, and plenty of them—”

“And what if I only have girls?”

“It’s highly unlikely.”

“But what if?” you wondered.

“Well… In that case, I suppose Don Giorno would appoint Signore Mista as his successor until another suitable candidate came along.”

“And then everyone would hate me.”

“No one could ever hate you, trisoru,” your father insisted over the phone.

“My husband would,” you replied quietly.

“Why would you say that?”

It would fare better for you if you changed the subject. “Nevermind what I said,” you dismissed, plopping down into an armchair in defeat.

Giorno had been distant even earlier on in your marriage, and truth be told, little had changed since you announced your pregnancy to him. But several months earlier, you were convinced that your relationship with Giorno was beginning to improve. Perhaps he had felt unease by your aloofness, for Giorno had taken it upon himself to reach out to you with small gestures—attempts at conversing with you and becoming better acquainted with you, presenting you with gifts and a vase full to bursting with flowers every week and, most importantly, taking you out to dinner and spending time with you. 

In just a few weeks, you managed to share a few stories from your days as Don Vittorio and Cosa Nostra’s principessa, relating each tale with a level of comfort that surprised even your husband. Wishing for more, and perhaps thinking that it was time you fulfilled your end of the agreement, you suggested to Giorno that you try to… well, have children. And while Giorno agreed that it was time to start a family, you hadn’t expected him to withdraw once you announced your pregnancy to him.

Naturally, the event had erased all of the progress you’d made. Suddenly Giorno was too busy to even eat dinner with you, and when you proposed he attend your doctor’s visits with you, he had immediately offered one of his own men to accompany you in his stead. All of this you related to your father, and time and time again, you were told that it was all a simple misunderstanding. 

But it still could not explain why Giorno kept his distance or remained awfully cold when before he expressed an earnest effort to establish some relationship with you. 

“Is this about that business with your husband shying away?”

Frustrated, you pushed yourself to your feet, hobbling past the bassinet and towards an open window. You could use some fresh air.

As you finally reached the window, you leaned against the sill and inspected your appearance through a mirror several paces away. Moments like this were clear reminders of the fact that you were carrying your first child; even at sixteen weeks, it was rather obvious that you were soon to be a mother. Your waist had thickened significantly, and at times it was easier to simply slip into whatever loose fitting clothing that you had on hand. There was no need to buy new clothing, however, not until the next visit. Most of your clothes fit rather well still. That will change soon enough, you reminded yourself. You were nearly halfway through the pregnancy, though you often forgot that crucial detail yourself.

Nearly there, you thought, sighing. Sixteen weeks on your own thus far—and all with no family, no friends, and certainly no husband at your side. Would it always be like this?

“Can’t I stay with you until the child’s born?” Giorno would hardly notice your absence.

“You should stay with your husband, who, need I remind you, is the father of this child. He’s your family now.”

A shot in the dark, you noted bitterly.

“Y/n?” asked your father.

“Yes?” you asked, still staring into the mirror, half-listening.

“I don’t know your husband terribly well, but from the times I’ve spoken with him over the phone… I’m sure he doesn’t bear any ill-will or hatred.”

“I should hope not,” you joked lightly. “We did manage to get this far along…”

“Perhaps you ought to speak to him. He might not even realize what he’s done.”

Finally you pulled away from the sunlight, sighing as the curtain fell back against the window and certain you had found peace when you saw a shape move in its reflection. The drapes were still swinging when you spun on your heel and glanced at the door, which to your surprise, hung ajar. Had you forgotten to close it?

Whatever myths people made when it came to pregnant women and their memories, you were almost certain that the door was securely shut the moment you entered, having followed the same procedure you carried out whenever you called your father. The last thing you ever needed was for someone to overhear you share a few laughs with Don Vittorio. Maintaining your image as a dignified Signora was of the utmost importance to you, after all.

You were still pondering the question of whether you’d left the door open when your gaze fell upon a familiar tube of French hand cream sitting on the table just beside the door, barely used since the doctor’s visit this morning, when… when I had asked Don Giorno to hold onto it for me.

For several seconds you stood there, gaping at the door until you took slow, leaden steps towards it. You swallowed hard and prayed that it had just been your imagination. It was the wind! you told yourself. Just your silly pregnancy hormones playing tricks on you. The wind pushed it open, you idiot.

Softly, you pulled the door further open and called out. “Hello?”

Whoever it had been, you’d been too slow to catch them, but… You were convinced you had seen the edge of your husband’s coat swish around the corner at the end of the hall.

-------------

A/N: I really like that last line I spent a lot of time on it and I hope you like it because i think it’s neat!!!!! also the asterisks are a mark, as I’m currently adding stuff to that original space. it’s not going to change much of what’s already going on there, so not to worry, my dear beans !!

but poor reader!!!! pregnancy is terrifying (you can lose teeth and break your back!!! yikes!!) and she’s been doing it all alone!!!! but!!! you may notice that bits of this fic make references to this hc list from a while back. giorno picks up at scene 2 so hopefully that gives some insight to his very very cold behavior.

if you want to listen to Liszt’s Un Sospiro here are some of my most favorite interpretations of it (1 and 2 and 3) !!! it’s so beautiful and i hope you like it too !! mayhaps you can give it a listen when you read chapter 1 in its entirety!! the third link is handy if you want to see how the hand crossings look. it’s so complex but beautiful and it sounds so—and basdbkjjbkb i love classical music!!!

how was the food my children!!!! I hope it was to your liking !! :’)

[rawiswhore]

Tom Hiddleston, JJ Feild, Julian Sands x Fem Reader- “Candle in The Wind” Part 1: Julian Sands

It’s nighttime, 2 hours to midnight to be exact, and in 1800’s England.

Every room in your home was pitchblack, it was also dark outside, the sky colored dark blue.

Benjamin Franklin might’ve discovered electricity a century ago, but you didn’t have any power in the house.

There were 3 British men you were enamored with.

Actually, there were 3 others you were enamored with, you’ll get to them later, but there are 3 you’re in love with now and were in bed with.

One was a British man with curly blond hair and a warm, infectious, ear-to-ear smile. He looked like a Renaissance painting cherub as an adult.

He looks like this:

Another was a British man with long, thick, dirty blond hair, he had one slight braid in his hair.

He looks like this, at least tonight:

He usually looked different, but this was the way you liked the way he looked the most.

The last one you were enamored with was thin in both the body and face, had long, straight, dirty blond hair, and had a widow’s peak perched atop his forehead.

He looks like this:

Like Franz Liszt almost (Actually, Julian Sands, the guy in this gif, played Franz Liszt in that gif/movie, but the guy in the above gif is just a regular 1800’s British guy).

Those 3 British men were in love and lust with you as much as you were with them.

They were all single, thank God, and you were single as well.

This was going to be a special night tonight.

You had a bottle of clear colored champagne with you in one hand and a red, burning candle in the other.

These 3 men were lying in your huge, king sized bed, the one you always sleep in but invite men to make love with you in it.

You were as naked as the day you were born, so were the other 3 men, all of their clothes as well as yours were scattered all over the floor.

The one you first wanted to pleasure was the one with the widow’s peak.

“Could you lay on your back for me please?” you ordered him, pointing to the pillow, swaying your hand and finger back and forth to let him know where to lay down.

He got what you meant, and he crawled on his hands and knees to the left side of the bed, reclining the back of his head on the soft, plush pillow and laying his back on the mattress.

You were sitting up next to him, sitting on your knees next to his legs clutching a champagne bottle in your hand.

You walked on your knees up to his chest.

Once you reached his chest, you hovered over him and tipped the champagne bottle above his chest, where champagne began pouring on his skinny chest.

The champagne splashed on his chest, eventually dripping down his abdomen and across his chest on both left and right sides.

You then asked the blond with curls to hold your candle for you, where he held the candle.

The candle felt very hot and he was so scared.

Some of the wax on the candle began dripping down his hand like a melting ice cream cone, some of the wax splatting on the bedsheets.

Fuck.

You could always get some new bed sheets, though.

Also, this champagne scenario won’t take too long.

The blond with curls and the one with the braid in his hair were probably very jealous of the one with the widow’s peak, but don’t worry, they’ll get their turn soon.

A true gentleman waits his turn.

You then moved your body back a few inches down to where the widow peaked man’s crotch was, where you then moved your leg to the left side of his body, straddling him like you were riding a horse.

You then lowered your face down to his crotch.

You weren’t going to give him a blowjob, no, however…

You then began slurping the champagne that was on his stomach, the champagne being sucked into your mouth like your mouth was a vacuum cleaner.

The champagne on his stomach began to disappear on his stomach.

The sensation of champagne being sucked from his stomach sent endorphins traveling through his body.

The one with the braid in his hair couldn’t help but have the urge to masturbate to this.

He put his hand on his erect penis and began moving his hand up and down his shaft.

The blond with the curls looked at the one with the braid, noticing him masturbating.

Precum began building out of the slit of the braided man’s penis, spilling down his hand like the candle wax down the candle the curly haired one is holding.

Though, it probably is best for the braided man not to masturbate, considering he might get to cum in you later on tonight.

He put his hand off of his cock and just decided to patiently wait and sit there until it was his turn.

Speaking of candles, the candle was hurting the curly haired one’s hand; he was scared the bed would catch on fire or he’d burn his hand, or something along those lines.

“y/n” the curly haired one said. “May I place the candle on the drawer next to your bed please?”

“Yes, sir” you replied.

You didn’t want the blond with the curl’s hand to be burned. Poor guy.

The blond with curls got out of bed and walked to the drawer next to your bed, looking down at the floor, trying not to trip on the clothes on the floor.

When he reached the drawer, he sat the candle on the drawer and let it sit there, where he then walked back to where he was sitting before and sat on the bed.

God, you hope the candle doesn’t run out to a nub.

The curly haired one’s hand could finally sigh in relief, at least he hoped so for now.

“Actually” you said, turning your head to the curly haired one.

“Could you hold my champagne bottle please?”

I hope it’s cold, he thought.

“As long as it’s cold” he chuckled, his ear-to-ear smile widening his face.

“Actually, before you do that, I need to do something else” you said to him.

You’ll explain without your words.

You poured more champagne down the widow peaked man’s chest, where champagne began dripping down his body down to his abdomen. Perfect.

Almost perfect.

You then moved your hand down to the widow peaked man’s stomach, where you tipped the champagne bottle and champagne poured down his stomach.

The alcohol was dripping down his stomach down to his genitals and thighs, some of it even dripped and dampened your bed sheets.

God, you hope you don’t empty the champagne bottle.

“Here” you said, handing the curly haired one the bottle of champagne. “Don’t drink it yet, please”

“I won’t, I promise”.

With that, you then put your hands on the widow peaked man’s thighs and pried them open, open enough so you could fit in the little space in between his legs.

You then put your left leg in the empty space in between the widow peaked man’s legs , where you were now sitting in between his legs.

You then put your arms on the side of the widow peaked man’s body, like you were about to do some pushups.

You then dipped your head to his stomach and licked up the remaining champagne like a kitten lapping up milk.

You tried collecting the champagne up with your tongue, which you did, and gulped it down.

His skin was very sensitive, goosebumps were forming on his arms.

You raised your body up more to his stomach when you licked up the champagne on his stomach.

The champagne was starting to intoxicate you a bit, you started feeling a little bit buzzed and drunk, but you weren’t completely drunk yet.

The one with curls in his hair was getting so jealous, so was the one with the braid in his hair.

But their time will come, don’t worry.

You then tried reaching for the candle on the dresser drawer, but it’s probably best to get up and get the candle yourself.

You scrambled yourself off of the bed, your feet eventually on the floor.

While trying to walk to the drawer, your eyes were also halfway looking down at the floor, making sure to not trip on the clothes on the floor.

Your eyes eventually met the wooden dresser next to your bed, your eyes elevating from the floor up to the drawer, to where the candle was.

The candle was still burning, but hopefully it won’t be down to a tiny little nub.

The reason you poured champagne on his chest first and afterwards candlewax?

So you won’t have to taste the disgusting candlewax.

Your eyes darted from the dresser then to the widow peaked man’s chest.

His chest was pretty wet, hopefully his skin won’t burn or worse, he’ll get set on fire, but you weren’t going to set his body on fire and burn him with the light, oh no.

You then tipped the candle wax gently, where some candlewax dripped onto his chest.

Sadly, it wasn’t any thick candle wax, but it was liquid-y, like the champagne you poured on him.

His face clenched tightly, like someone had kicked him in the balls.

His eyes were shut tight and his mouth was grimacing, showing teeth.

His mouth let out these gasps from the back of his throat.

His hands gripped onto the bedsheets tightly.

Boy, it must sting for him.

The one with the curls and the one with the braid in his hair looked at him, both in shock.

You were quite shocked too.

“Does it hurt?” you asked him.

“Y-yes” was his response.

“Do you still want me to massage you?” you asked him.

He had no idea what to respond with.

Is she some sort of sadistic psychopath? thought the curly haired one.

The one with the widow’s peak probably thought that too. And so did the one with the braid.

You didn’t want to hurt any of them.

“I just wanted to…make you feel good” you said. “Massage you”.

Even though you obviously aren’t.

“I’m not a sadist or psychopath” you promised.

“Why do you want to pour candle wax on me?” the widow’s peaked man asked.

“I just want to do an�� experiment” you responded. “I don’t want to hurt or kill you”.

“I did enjoy it when you lapped up the champagne on my body” he said.

You then flipped his body, to where his chest and stomach were now lying on the mattress.

God, you hope the bed won’t be set on fire now that his chest smeared in candle wax will touch the bedsheets.

You tipped the candle a bit, directing the tipped candle to his back.

A little thin drip of candle wax began dripping and splatting onto his back.

You wish the wax could’ve been thicker so you could massage his back with it.  

His face clenched, his mouth let out some breathy cries, not too loud, but hushed and whispered.

His eyes were shut tightly, his mouth grimaced in pain.

“Hold my candle” you said to the one with curly hair, handing the candle to him. “If you don’t want your hand burned, then put it back on the drawer”.

He grabbed the candle, then got out of bed and walked to the drawer sitting next to your bed, placing the candle there.

He walked back to where he was sitting in the bed.

You then hovered yourself over him, where your mouth was close to his ear.

“It’s alright” you whispered, trying to sound soothing. “I won’t hurt you”.

If the words “yeah right” existed in the 1800’s, he would’ve thought that.

The tips of your fingers were gently caressing his shoulder.

Luckily there was no candle wax on his bare shoulders

The man with the widow’s peak actually enjoyed you touching him on his bare shoulder, it felt so good.

But too bad about the candle wax situation.                

You weren’t really trying to hurt him, or any of them, but you were a little bit kinky.

You then raised your body up a few inches above him, where you placed both of your hands on the middle of his back, where the candle wax was splattered.

You then began moving your hands up and down his back, smearing the candlewax there.

Not only was it burning and stinging his back, but also your hands and fingers as well.

His eyes were shut tightly, his mouth grimaced, gritting his teeth together in pain.

His hands gripped tight onto the bedsheets, the sheets clenched in his fingers.

He could nearly let out a cry from the bottom of his throat, this hurt so much.

And to be honest, this hurt your fingers too.

You were a little worried he was hurt.

“Are you alright?” you asked, whispering and hushing your voice, sounding concerned and even looking concerned in the face.

“N-n-not really” he stuttered, his eyes opening, looking up at you and his head turned towards you.

“Do you want me to stop or continue?” you asked.

By the looks of him in pain, he probably wants to you to stop.

“It’s alright” you coaxed.

You wish you could rub his shoulder to comfort him again, but your hands were covered in hot candle wax, you didn’t want to hurt him again.

“You want me to do something about the wax on your back?” you asked him. “Maybe…relieve you?”

“It’s alright, love” he responded.

You can relieve him tomorrow. Try to find a remedy for the burns on his back and chest.

He called me ‘love’, you thought. Even after you hurt him and his skin.

I wonder if I’ll end up hurting the other two men in bed with me when I pleasure them.

________________________________________________________________

This actually will be a series of fanfics of a sexual fantasy I had last year in the summer, and each man shown in a gif in the fanfic will be the one you’ll pleasure in each chapter.

Also, I’m aware JJ Feild in “Turn: Washington’s Spies” is set in 1700′s England, but this was a sexual fantasy I had last year in the summer.

[littletroubledgrrrl]

Tom Hiddleston, JJ Feild, Julian Sands x Fem Reader- “Candle In the Wind” Part 1: Julian Sands

It's nighttime, 2 hours to midnight to be exact, and in 1800's England.

Every room in your home was pitchblack, it was also dark outside, the sky colored dark blue.

Benjamin Franklin might've discovered electricity a century ago, but you didn't have any power in the house.

There were 3 British men you were enamored with.

Actually, there were 3 others you were enamored with, you'll get to them later, but there are 3 you're in love with now and were in bed with.

One was a British man with curly blond hair and a warm, infectious, ear-to-ear smile. He looked like a Renaissance painting cherub as an adult.

He looks like this

 Another was a British man with long, thick, dirty blond hair, he had one slight braid in his hair.

He looks like this, at least tonight:

 He usually looked different, but this was the way you liked the way he looked the most.

The last one you were enamored with was thin in both the body and face, had long, straight, dirty blond hair, and had a widow's peak perched atop his forehead.

He looks like this

Like Franz Liszt almost (Actually, Julian Sands, the guy in this gif, played Franz Liszt in that gif/movie, but the guy in the above gif is just a regular 1800's British guy).

Those 3 British men were in love and lust with you as much as you were with them.

They were all single, thank God, and you were single as well.

This was going to be a special night tonight.

You had a bottle of clear colored champagne with you in one hand and a red, burning candle in the other.

These 3 men were lying in your huge, king sized bed, the one you always sleep in but invite men to make love with you in it.

You were as naked as the day you were born, so were the other 3 men, all of their clothes as well as yours were scattered all over the floor.

The one you first wanted to pleasure was the one with the widow's peak.

"Could you lay on your back for me please?" you ordered him, pointing to the pillow, swaying your hand and finger back and forth to let him know where to lay down.

He got what you meant, and he crawled on his hands and knees to the left side of the bed, reclining the back of his head on the soft, plush pillow and laying his back on the mattress.

You were sitting up next to him, sitting on your knees next to his legs clutching a champagne bottle in your hand.

You walked on your knees up to his chest.

Once you reached his chest, you hovered over him and tipped the champagne bottle above his chest, where champagne began pouring on his skinny chest.

The champagne splashed on his chest, eventually dripping down his abdomen and across his chest on both left and right sides.

You then asked the blond with curls to hold your candle for you, where he held the candle.

The candle felt very hot and he was so scared.

Some of the wax on the candle began dripping down his hand like a melting ice cream cone, some of the wax splatting on the bedsheets.

Fuck.

You could always get some new bed sheets, though.

Also, this champagne scenario won't take too long.

The blond with curls and the one with the braid in his hair were probably very jealous of the one with the widow's peak, but don't worry, they'll get their turn soon.

A true gentleman waits his turn.

You then moved your body back a few inches down to where the widow peaked man's crotch was, where you then moved your leg to the left side of his body, straddling him like you were riding a horse.

You then lowered your face down to his crotch.

You weren't going to give him a blowjob, no, however...

You then began slurping the champagne that was on his stomach, the champagne being sucked into your mouth like your mouth was a vacuum cleaner.

The champagne on his stomach began to disappear on his stomach.

The sensation of champagne being sucked from his stomach sent endorphins traveling through his body.

The one with the braid in his hair couldn't help but have the urge to masturbate to this.

He put his hand on his erect penis and began moving his hand up and down his shaft.

The blond with the curls looked at the one with the braid, noticing him masturbating.

Precum began building out of the slit of the braided man's penis, spilling down his hand like the candle wax down the candle the curly haired one is holding.

Though, it probably is best for the braided man not to masturbate, considering he might get to cum in you later on tonight.

He put his hand off of his cock and just decided to patiently wait and sit there until it was his turn.

Speaking of candles, the candle was hurting the curly haired one's hand; he was scared the bed would catch on fire or he'd burn his hand, or something along those lines.

"y/n" the curly haired one said. "May I place the candle on the drawer next to your bed please?"

"Yes, sir" you replied.

You didn't want the blond with the curl's hand to be burned. Poor guy.

The blond with curls got out of bed and walked to the drawer next to your bed, looking down at the floor, trying not to trip on the clothes on the floor.

When he reached the drawer, he sat the candle on the drawer and let it sit there, where he then walked back to where he was sitting before and sat on the bed.

God, you hope the candle doesn't run out to a nub.

The curly haired one's hand could finally sigh in relief, at least he hoped so for now.

"Actually" you said, turning your head to the curly haired one.

"Could you hold my champagne bottle please?"

I hope it's cold, he thought.

"As long as it's cold" he chuckled, his ear-to-ear smile widening his face.

"Actually, before you do that, I need to do something else" you said to him.

You'll explain without your words.

You poured more champagne down the widow peaked man's chest, where champagne began dripping down his body down to his abdomen. Perfect.

Almost perfect.

You then moved your hand down to the widow peaked man's stomach, where you tipped the champagne bottle and champagne poured down his stomach.

The alcohol was dripping down his stomach down to his genitals and thighs, some of it even dripped and dampened your bed sheets.

God, you hope you don't empty the champagne bottle.

"Here" you said, handing the curly haired one the bottle of champagne. "Don't drink it yet, please"

"I won't, I promise".

With that, you then put your hands on the widow peaked man's thighs and pried them open, open enough so you could fit in the little space in between his legs.

You then put your left leg in the empty space in between the widow peaked man's legs , where you were now sitting in between his legs.

You then put your arms on the side of the widow peaked man's body, like you were about to do some pushups.

You then dipped your head to his stomach and licked up the remaining champagne like a kitten lapping up milk.

You tried collecting the champagne up with your tongue, which you did, and gulped it down.

His skin was very sensitive, goosebumps were forming on his arms.

You raised your body up more to his stomach when you licked up the champagne on his stomach.

The champagne was starting to intoxicate you a bit, you started feeling a little bit buzzed and drunk, but you weren't completely drunk yet.

The one with curls in his hair was getting so jealous, so was the one with the braid in his hair.

But their time will come, don't worry.

You then tried reaching for the candle on the dresser drawer, but it's probably best to get up and get the candle yourself.

You scrambled yourself off of the bed, your feet eventually on the floor.

While trying to walk to the drawer, your eyes were also halfway looking down at the floor, making sure to not trip on the clothes on the floor.

Your eyes eventually met the wooden dresser next to your bed, your eyes elevating from the floor up to the drawer, to where the candle was.

The candle was still burning, but hopefully it won't be down to a tiny little nub.

The reason you poured champagne on his chest first and afterwards candlewax?

So you won't have to taste the disgusting candlewax.

Your eyes darted from the dresser then to the widow peaked man's chest.

His chest was pretty wet, hopefully his skin won't burn or worse, he'll get set on fire, but you weren't going to set his body on fire and burn him with the light, oh no.

You then tipped the candle wax gently, where some candlewax dripped onto his chest.

Sadly, it wasn't any thick candle wax, but it was liquid-y, like the champagne you poured on him.

His face clenched tightly, like someone had kicked him in the balls.

His eyes were shut tight and his mouth was grimacing, showing teeth.

His mouth let out these gasps from the back of his throat.

His hands gripped onto the bedsheets tightly.

Boy, it must sting for him.

The one with the curls and the one with the braid in his hair looked at him, both in shock.

You were quite shocked too.

"Does it hurt?" you asked him.

"Y-yes" was his response.

"Do you still want me to massage you?" you asked him.

He had no idea what to respond with.

Is she some sort of sadistic psychopath? thought the curly haired one.

The one with the widow's peak probably thought that too. And so did the one with the braid.

You didn't want to hurt any of them.

"I just wanted to...make you feel good" you said. "Massage you".

Even though you obviously aren't.

"I'm not a sadist or psychopath" you promised.

"Why do you want to pour candle wax on me?" the widow's peaked man asked.

"I just want to do an... experiment" you responded. "I don't want to hurt or kill you".

"I did enjoy it when you lapped up the champagne on my body" he said.

You then flipped his body, to where his chest and stomach were now lying on the mattress.

God, you hope the bed won't be set on fire now that his chest smeared in candle wax will touch the bedsheets.

You tipped the candle a bit, directing the tipped candle to his back.

A little thin drip of candle wax began dripping and splatting onto his back.

You wish the wax could've been thicker so you could massage his back with it.  

His face clenched, his mouth let out some breathy cries, not too loud, but hushed and whispered.

His eyes were shut tightly, his mouth grimaced in pain.

"Hold my candle" you said to the one with curly hair, handing the candle to him. "If you don't want your hand burned, then put it back on the drawer".

He grabbed the candle, then got out of bed and walked to the drawer sitting next to your bed, placing the candle there.

He walked back to where he was sitting in the bed.

You then hovered yourself over him, where your mouth was close to his ear.

"It's alright" you whispered, trying to sound soothing. "I won't hurt you".

If the words "yeah right" existed in the 1800's, he would've thought that.

The tips of your fingers were gently caressing his shoulder.

Luckily there was no candle wax on his bare shoulders

The man with the widow's peak actually enjoyed you touching him on his bare shoulder, it felt so good.

But too bad about the candle wax situation.                

You weren't really trying to hurt him, or any of them, but you were a little bit kinky.

You then raised your body up a few inches above him, where you placed both of your hands on the middle of his back, where the candle wax was splattered.

You then began moving your hands up and down his back, smearing the candlewax there.

Not only was it burning and stinging his back, but also your hands and fingers as well.

His eyes were shut tightly, his mouth grimaced, gritting his teeth together in pain.

His hands gripped tight onto the bedsheets, the sheets clenched in his fingers.

He could nearly let out a cry from the bottom of his throat, this hurt so much.

And to be honest, this hurt your fingers too.

You were a little worried he was hurt.

"Are you alright?" you asked, whispering and hushing your voice, sounding concerned and even looking concerned in the face.

"N-n-not really" he stuttered, his eyes opening, looking up at you and his head turned towards you.

"Do you want me to stop or continue?" you asked.

By the looks of him in pain, he probably wants to you to stop.

"It's alright" you coaxed.

You wish you could rub his shoulder to comfort him again, but your hands were covered in hot candle wax, you didn't want to hurt him again.

"You want me to do something about the wax on your back?" you asked him. "Maybe...relieve you?"

"It's alright, love" he responded.

You can relieve him tomorrow. Try to find a remedy for the burns on his back and chest.

He called me 'love', you thought. Even after you hurt him and his skin.

I wonder if I'll end up hurting the other two men in bed with me when I pleasure them.

________________________________________________________________

This actually will be a series of fanfics of a sexual fantasy I had last year in the summer, and each man shown in a gif in the fanfic will be the one you’ll pleasure in each chapter.

Also, I’m aware JJ Feild in “Turn: Washington’s Spies” is set in 1700′s England, but this was a sexual fantasy I had last year in the summer.

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 15

Title & Song:  Sympathy For The Devil

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 3600+

Summary: Genevieve is a force to be reckoned with. An intelligent, independent and brutal businesswoman. She’s been intrigued by Alfie since she met him. But where will she draw the line between business and pleasure now that they are working so closely together? Genevieve is all flash but will their time spent together start to show the cracks in her powerful facade?

A/N: Every chapter of this story will have a song to work as the title and as a soundtrack. Chapter song is Sympathy For The Devil by The Rolling Stones. The songs give a good background to the stories and have some further insight into the characters. Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes and comments feed this artists beast to write more!

Part 1: Thieves & Kings.- Pt. 2 Conquest - Pt. 3 Nail In My Coffin - Pt. 4 - 60 Feet Tall Pt. 5 I Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor Pt. 6 Stop The World Pt 7 Making A Fool Of You Pt 8 L'Amour et la violence Pt 9 Play With Fire Pt 10 Black Treacle Pt 11 These Stones Will Shout Pt 12 Fireside Pt 13 Trouble Pt 14 Tighten Up Pt 16 Don’t Speak

My Masterlist.

Tags! Let me know if you’d like to be added or dropped! Thanks!

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer@cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog@brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @iliveonchocolateandnetflix@jess2464  @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons​ @pootle

You are once again spending your Friday night in the study with Alfie. This was becoming a reoccurring theme.  He's sunk back into the couch in front of the fire. His glasses sit on his nose, it buried in a book. His feet covered in slippers and crossed at his ankles, the grey fabric matching the pajamas he was wearing, all covered in patterned light silk robe you'd talked him into trying on and he'd actually loved it. He hadn't admitted it but you'd seen him in the kitchen in the middle of the night wearing it and seemingly nothing else. Once you'd seen this you knew your theory about it feeling good with his sensitive skin was indeed correct. Aggie had pulled you out of bed to see him, and although you hadn't been opposed to getting to see him in such a way, you found her matchmaker tactics a bit heavy handed even if they were well-intentioned.

You're sitting incorrectly in a chair, sweet sucked in your mouth, a common approach to lounging in your home. At first it had caught Alfie off guard, catching you upside down and sideways in chairs reading. He'd even come across you perched on table tops and laying on stair banisters in the sun much like a cat on occasion. Currently, you're sitting with your knees bent, legs hanging over the back of the chair, your back in the seat. You've been staring at the ceiling for a bit, just letting your mind wander where it wanted.

You were contemplating Alfie Solomons currently, as you found yourself doing far too often lately. Watching his nostrils flare and nose twitch over his fluffy mustache. You contemplated the charming glasses that sat atop his nose. His heavy, focused brow atop piercing eyes, even without the powerful look behind them, the blue enough to stand on its own and still affect a woman without the addition of intent behind them. You smile at his dark hair, currently lax and messy, longer bits falling about his forehead and ears. He was in such a state, as he'd had a bath after dinner and was now in full recline for the long haul into the night with the lovely plans of doing nothing in particular. His gingery beard, in a mix match to his dark hair reminds you of a Calico cat and makes you hum quietly in amusement. His rough hands with scaled knuckles hold an old book, you think you recognize the language to be Russian. He clears his throat, completely unaware of your study of him. You find yourself jealous you can't read Russian. You knew a handful of swears and basic directions from your childhood nurse, Ida but you only had very limited knowledge past that. You chew the inside of your cheek and consider learning Russian. You shift your weight in the chair, contemplating how intelligent he is. And not in the obnoxious academia way that you were too well acquainted with. He wasn't simply informed, he was clever. Your favorite expression of this being his quick and funny wit. Your mind then reminds you of how much he made you laugh, causing your nose to wrinkle subtly in consideration of how much you enjoyed his company. You switch back to considering the breadth of his knowledge before you take too many steps down that road of thought. Surely there were things for you to learn from this brain.

"Alfie?" you call out inquisitively.

"Hmm?" he says with a grunt, eyes not leaving his book.

"How well versed are you in Faberge?" you ask while you swivel yourself around, legs now over the side of the chair, your back against the opposite arm. His eyes look up from his book and over at you.

"Quite a bit, sweetheart. What d'ya want to know?" he removes his glasses and closes his book.

"Oh, nothing in particular," you shake your head. "I was just thinking about them." you say biting your lip. "Have you ever come across one?"

"I 'ave." he nods, bottom lip jutted out just slightly.

"Which?" you pry enthusiastically.

"Lillies of the Valley and a few of the Russian ones, but I didn't get as good of a look at 'em as I did the Lillies." he says with a fond, nostalgic tone.

"Mmmm." you hum contently at the thought.  "I've heard it's breathtaking, covered in pearls with shimmering pinks and greens." you hand emphasizes the description and lands on your chest.

"Stunning, it was." he nods. "What about you?"

"I've seen five different eggs." He blinks at you, very surprised. "I had friends with exceptionally rich fathers growing up." you explain with a chuckle and a wave of your hand. "One was a Kelch, and the others from the Imperial collection." he nods in thought, his eyes looking down to the ground. "Seeing as my encounters outnumber yours, might I interest you in adding another egg to the list of those you've seen?" you grin sheepishly.

"Is this your way of asking me about a job?" he says, a singular brow raised in a scolding expression.

"No. I have one." you savor the look on his face as it shifts quickly before your eyes.

"Ya fuckin' what?!" he shouts, his brow shooting up in his excitement that was masked by a mean tone. "In the fuckin' house?" he says just as loudly, cutting you off and your smile grows wider as you see that familiar enthusiasm.

"Yes." you nod and give him an obvious expression. "Where else would I keep them?" you say in a playfully condescending way.

"Why'd you never mention this before?" his eyes blink rapidly at you, he leans forward in the seat, his tone stung slightly with offense.

"I didn't know if I could trust you now, did I?" you say, turning to sit in the chair normally. "I couldn't have you going and stealing my favorite things because then I'd have to kill you and that would be a great big fucking mess to deal with." you chuckle as you stand from the chair. "Besides, it's in my bedroom and I'm not about to go invite a known criminal to come in and get his hands all over my precious things as soon as he walks in the door." You smirk at him, making your way across the room, being entirely cheeky with the double meaning of your words.

"Well no one can say you aren't smart, Genevieve." he says with a chuckle, eyes watching you as he sits up in the chair.

"A man has to earn these sorts of things from me." you state, your hands on your hips. "I suppose you've earned it, Solomons." you say in a playful tone as he stands from the couch.

He's standing in the doorway of your massive bedroom. You've disappeared into a doorway to change out of the dress you'd been wearing, Informing him to stay as if he were a pet. He takes in the room, finding himself almost intimidated, highly intrigued and slightly aroused.  Everything felt plush and luxurious as soon as you walked in, the thick rug beneath his feet,  the velvet fabric hanging from the bed and walls, the pale grey paint covered in pictures. Paintings of all sizes in bold, elaborate gold frames in a well-spaced collage across the room. Among the squared paintings hung portraits of you and of others he didn't recognize, depictions of gods and goddesses, and acts of biblical brutality. The huge canopy bed, draped in black velvet curtains sits in a circular space, huge tufted with gold buttons headboard sitting very close to the solid wall that sat between two huge windows. The curtains matched those of the canopy, everything else in the room in gold and rich jewel tones. A black based, but brightly patterned rug covers most of the floor, the wood beneath it stained almost as dark. The furniture all a matched set, a beige-white and gold filigree exterior, a similar look you had in many rooms of the house.

He walks to a bookcase, books in many different languages, some very old and well read, some new with uncracked spines in rows. The ones he could understand the writing on shown a similar theme among all the books...sex. This made him give a cheeky glance that wasn't meant to be seen in the direction you've walked. A large painting hung above the bed which now held his attention. He didn't recognize the artist, but it was a nude woman, slightly reclined with a huge black snake twisting up her body, it's head resting on her shoulder, a subtle smile on both their faces. He could imagine the things he didn't know about you, the bits of you that caused you to choose this specific painting to hang in such importance. He imagined and he yearned to know with more certainty, feeling his interest peaked. He hadn't expected this in your bedroom, but as his eyes search for something to give him further insight into your mind you call out in a lilted voice for him.

(”The Sin.” Franz Von Stuck)

He walks through the threshold, through a tiled and marble bathroom, through a less obvious doorway which led him into a huge closet. "Ya dead posh, innit ya?" he says, his mouth slightly open. Taking in the multiple rows of clothes with a wide grin at your possessions.

He follows you further into a different chamber of the closet, a fitting room with raised center and huge mirrors, and drawers and drawers of glass lidded boxes containing jewels.  A top a pedestal, covered in a large bell jar with a gold handle and rim, sits the Danish Palaces egg. The pink egg, lined in gold and diamonds sits in its holder, it's keepsake stretched out, a series of panels matching the egg with different landscapes inside sits alongside it.

You sit with legs crossed at the knee, leaning back on your hands on a big, round, tufted and fringed mauve ottoman. "The bell is very heavy dear, be careful, I know you're in a hurry to get your hands all over her." you tease, watching him gently set his cane onto the seat next to you and inspects the egg.

"Hello." he drags out the word in a groan, in a voice so low it makes you smirk at its implications. The tone being warranted to be said between thighs instead of to an object. He picks up the egg with two hands, approaching it with a face that saw nothing else in the world at that moment. You watch him with a smile and a tilted head, your foot bobbing up and down as his brow weighs heavy over his eyes. "Did ya steal it?" he asks, no hesitation or judgment in his voice.

He looks over his shoulder at you as you let out a loud laugh at his straightforward question. "I did not actually. I bought it as a birthday present to myself."

"When's ya birthday?" he asks, his face scrunched up and almost looking your way, not willing to look away from the egg.

"August." you answer, surprised he cared to ask such a thing.

"You would buy yourself a birthday present." a subtle smile comes across his lips, his face moving back to the egg.

"Well, I would know better than anyone else as to what to get myself for my own birthday, wouldn't I?" you ask, no tone of offense to his critical retort.

"If Faberge is what you demand for your birthday, you're pricing out most of the men in London there, princess." he muses, humor in his voice but not so much his face.

"Good," you say with a low chuckle. "And I am not a princess. I don't demand Faberge for my birthday." you roll your eyes and purse your lips at him, holding your chin up.  

"Getting a Faberge egg on your birthday though, yeah? Sure sounds like a princess to me, mate." he grins.

"More like a Queen," you say with a weak, smug expression. "I worked my ass off for the paydays that purchased that." you point aggressively at the egg. He turns his face to you as you start to walk towards him. "I wanted this bought legally and with own money I earned so it couldn't ever be taken from me." you reach out with a type of sadness he's only seen before briefly as you spoke of your family. He hands the egg over to you. You sigh heavily and inspect it. "I understand why you'd call me a princess." you glance up at him, a small chuckle escaping you, a fleeting smile passes across your face. "And I am a bit, but I'm self-aware enough to know that." you shrug slightly. "But then there's the woman who had to go through the mistakes and work her ass off to get this." you sigh and hand the egg back to him. "I suppose I'm as much of one as I am the other." your head tilts to the side, your eyes are gazing far away to something intangible. "But I would rather you refer to me as a woman than princess out of the two." you look at him with much more humor at yourself than he anticipates when he looks up from the egg.

He doesn't respond for a heavy minute but looks at you very seriously, you let out a relieved sigh as you study his face. "I weren't implyin' you dinnit deserve it." he says quietly, his face leaning in closer to yours.

"I know that,"you give him a small smile. "I'm just a bit sensitive about money sometimes." you scrunch your nose in an apologetic look. "Didn't mean to come at you so heavy with the feelings." you take an animated deep breath and let out a slightly nervous chuckle and move over a set of drawers.

"If there's anything to feel strongly about," he says, sitting the egg back on the pedastool "I believe money would be near the very top of that list." he holds your hand and pats it with his own. You nod and look at him from under your lashes. His eyes searching yours for a sign he could make the sadness receed in them. "You've managed to buy one for yourself though, eh?" he adds. "I dont know no princesses that can say that." he suggests with a shrug of his shoulders.

Now it's your turn to pause. You look up at and can't help but smile at the genuine look in his eyes. You push up to your tip toes and plant a single kiss on his face, directly by his mouth. He's very surprised by this as he stiffens as you move away.

"What's 'at for?" he asks, his voice inflected with amusement at you.

"You're very sweet when you want to be. You know that?" you ask, your eyes wide at the question. You slip your hand from his, turning to place them on the drawers in front of you.

"I don't recall bein' referred to as sweet before." he says, only his eyes moving over you.

"Perhaps it's not everyone's kind of sweetness." you shrug. "I'm sure you've been told you're good with words before." you state matter of factly. "Same horse, different color." you add before you turn to face him. "Now you can understand my actions that day at The Garrison a bit better."

"Oh I understood that as soon as I found out Tommy proper fucked ya on that." he nods enthusiastically.

"I've not been able to find out who bought that egg." you say quietly, as his eyes slide back over to you after being distracted by the contents of the room. "You wouldn't have happened to have heard anything, would you?" you ask.

He makes a low humming noise at your request. "Might have." he shrugs. "Might not've." he grins. "If you can tell me how you knew about that egg being there then maybe I can entertain a bit of tit for tat."

You snort at his choice of words."I bet you could." your tone scolding your face on the verge of laughing. "I know the owner. I've been in the house before." you say obviously, your arms crossing across your chest. "But I couldn't get to the floor with the safe as a guest."

"How you know 'im?" he asks, his eyes narrowing.

"Someone that seemed to take a liking to me after I had to distract him for a job once." you explain. "Sometimes I keep in touch if their particular sets of skills might serve me in the future." you explain, calmly.

"Oh, is that what ya doin' with me then?" he teases, giving you a boyish smile.

"I'm not visiting your home, I invited you to live in mine." you state with importance. "Hardly the same thing, dear." you say with a huff of a laugh, tilting your head with a smile as your eyes scold him for the suggestion.

"You might got a point there." he says quietly, sheepish smile as he looks around the room again. "I don't know who bought the egg but I could give you a short list of who it might be if it's in London." he offers, his hands out. "The Italians tend to sale things quickly and therefore a local buyer is usually behind the purchase." he further explains, offering you actual helpful information. Not exactly as advertised but you had agreed to the terms.

"Thank you for saving me the trouble of having to flirt my way for information through the jewelry quarter." you say with a lighthearted laugh. "What do I have to do to get some names from you Solomons?" you ask playfully, leaning back against the set of drawers.

"I can't go giving you the names of all my best buyers now, can I?" a grin, predatory but charming still,  appears and is directed forcefully at you. "I know you're not that thick," you snort at the suggestion of you trying to sneak information out of him. " and I know nothing is free so that's why I asked what I need to do so I can find this person and this egg." your voice is softer in volume but sharper in tone.

"I ain't promisin' nothin'." he shakes his finger at you and your confident grin makes him let out a low groan of a noise at your cheeky stare. "But I will ask about eggs if the opportunity arises." he says hesitantly, narrowing his eyes to make it seem like he wasn't giving in.

"You are going about paying me back for saving you in such a lovely way, Alfie. I told you you were a sweetie." you say with a cocky grin, your hand trailing across his chest as you move to the other side of the room.

"I think you and I have a different understanding of the word, sweet." he says in a low tone.

"Doubtful." you say in a mysterious little laugh. "If there is one thing we do speak the same language on its jewels, isn't it?" you say with a near lilt in your voice, pulling open a drawer. He wants to ask you what you mean but his eyes and body are currently being ripped towards the diamond and sapphire necklace he's now looking at.

"Hell." he hoarsely whispers out. "You like sapphires, eh?" A very long chain, consisting of diamonds, and a large, flat backed sapphire oval sits suspended.

"I look good in blue, what can I say?" you say oozing with certainty."I've not found an occasion to wear her out yet though." you say as he looks over to you for permission to touch it. You nod with an obvious expression and watch his eyes reflect back the shine of the stones. "Wearing it starkers around the house just doesn't give one the same excitement as wearing it out where others can envy it." you muse for a moment, you speak almost as if you're thinking out loud and he lays the piece back on its velvet cushion. "Would you like to see something besides Sapphires?" you grin with a dramatic flutter of your long lashes up at him.

"There's more?" he asks almost exasperated.

"Oh my god, yes, Alfie." you let out a cackle, one hand to your chest. "You see all these drawers on this side of the room?" you ask, hunching over slightly and running your hands across the top of the one you were standing in front of. "All pieces. Necklaces, earrings, bracelets, rings, did I mention necklaces because I am quite fond of those." you sigh contently, beaming up at him.

"You just keep these all in your closet?" he asks, slightly concerned.

"Well you didn't walk through a normal door to get into this room did you?" you say with a head tilt and a grin. "This room is it's own safe of sorts. Can't just leave these things lying about, ya know." you smile sweetly, twisting your shoulders.

"What's the percentage of purchased and stolen on these?" he smirks and you meet him with your own.

"Does it matter?" you ask cheekily, your shoulder moving up to your chin in exaggeration. You both shake your heads no and share a scrunched expression that turns into a shared laugh as you hold out your hands for him to explore the contents of the shelves.

Pt 16 Don’t Speak (I Came To Make A Bang)

[pandaemoniusarchive-blog]

★ (gimme some anton and lukas bc fuck context)

★  five times my muse though yours looked breath-taking, and the one time they voice it. also known as the five times anton almost caused an international incident, and the one time he did. 

aka this is crack.

ONE.

The first time he sees him, Anton thinks he’s still drunk from the night before.

The man hardly seems real - hell, it hardly seems fair that someone who looks like that would exist in a world like this. But it happens while he’s walking down the steps with Maria, talking a mile a minute about some fabric they had both been desperate to find, when he catches sight of a shock of red hair and a wide smile and those shoulders - lord help, those shoulders. All Anton can do is stop dead in his tracks and watch the man laugh, open and guileless and so utterly captivating that he’s sure he forgets to breathe for the beat of a moment. ( He really wants to fall into him, see if his shoulders really are as sturdy as they look. He only stops himself because he’s pretty sure Maria’s going to mock him for it later. ) But Anton does smile at the man as he walks past, his gaze roaming up and down, before he turns to his brother’s mistress with a disbelieving stare; his mouth agape.

“Please tell me you saw him too, because I think I just saw a heavenly vision.”

If Maria rolls her eyes at him, he doesn’t notice.

TWO.  

The second time, he knows he’s still drunk from the night before. 

He’s standing on the balcony, enjoying the warmth of Swiss summer and trying his very hardest not to crawl back into bed and sleep for the rest of the day. So Anton takes a sip of his juice, his lips curled into a frown, as he looks over the grounds with the same amount of enthusiasm that he has while talking to old men who don’t know whether to find him pretty or a royal pain. That’s when it happens - when he notices a pair of shoulders he recognises immediately. Down in the expanse of green lawn, a familiar redhead clashes swords with someone with far inferior shoulders and rather shoddy footwork, and Anton watches closely; his hangover all but forgotten. The man prevails - of course he does, the universe just despises Anton - and throws his head back in a laugh: his white shirt is soaked and sticking to him, his blade is still grasped in his hand, and yet there he is, laughing as if he hasn’t a care in the world. 

Resisting the urge to call down at him or whistle or attempt to measure exactly how wide those shoulders are, Anton just takes a sip of his juice and refuses to wonder what the man’s name is. 

THREE.

When he finds out exactly who the man is, he wants to laugh. Hysterically.

They’re all in the Great Hall; mingling, exchanging pleasantries, pretending that they hadn’t all been planning to stab each other in the backs or declaring outright war against one another just recently. No, they’re all politely laughing and asking after each other’s families - trying to forge peace with as little inconvenience as possible. Taking a large gulp of wine, Anton glances across the room, trying to spot if his brother has turned his back long enough that he can sneak out. But instead, his eyes find a head of red hair that’s increasingly familiar to him by now; hair that’s been pushed back and neatened; wide, wide, wide shoulders that are dressed up in a plush coat; and a matching smile that never seems to fade. He wants to go over and introduce himself, wants to tell the man just how incredible he looks, but he doesn’t. Swallowing down the last of his wine, Anton instead turns to a nearby servant - oh, this one’s handsome too - and hands him his empty glass. 

“Tell me something,” he begins, words slurring at the end, flashing the servant a grin of his own, “who’s the man with the - ” Anton raises his eyebrows, trying to mime an appropriate depiction of shoulders. When the servant looks completely befuddled, he outright points. “That man - the one in the blue. Or the black. Or whatever - the blue and black.”

The King of Lithuania, my lord, the poor lad answers - and Anton feels his smile slip off his face by increments.

“And the woman on his arm?” His wife, my lord.

He snorts in an attempt to keep his laughter at bay, reaching blindly for a fresh glass of wine and downing the liquid in a single go. If he wonders whether the utterly gorgeous Queen of Lithuania has measured the width of her utterly gorgeous husband’s shoulders, well. 

Only he and the servant know.

FOUR.

The thing is…it wasn’t his fault.

It was Friedrich’s fault for never teaching him to have self-control. Or Alexandra’s. Or Franz, or - whatever, it was someone else’s fault. That much was certain.

Though this time, he couldn’t even blame the wine. He had been completely sober.

He’s just managed to unsaddle his beloved mare, preferring to do it himself rather than leave it to anyone else, because if there’s one female in his life, it’s Dafne. She gives him a happy neigh as he brushes her coat down and cleans her off, feeding her a bit of apple and petting her head with more affection than he musters up for most people, when it’s obvious that someone else has just walked in. Anton can hear the heavy footsteps of a man leading a horse inside, and his gaze snaps upwards to zero in on an all too familiar face. He stands up, his black curls in complete and utter disarray, sticking out from every which way and streaks of dirt on his - everything. On his everything. 

The redhead gives him a smile - the King of Lithuania, you idiot! - warm and friendly and Anton’s mind stops functioning properly, grinding to a halt and spewing all sorts of nonsense that he can’t discern. The man’s eyes are blueblueblue; not the cold and calculating ice blue that the Luxemburgs have, but bright and emotive and catching the sunlight when he looks up. 

He should smile, shouldn’t he? That’s what you do when someone smiles at you, isn’t it?

So Anton smiles, easy and languid like he always does. 

And then he winks before he can stop himself, the acute horror of it all setting in so very slowly. 

As the King walks away, presumably at a quickened pace, the German princeling turns back to his horse - his expression one of absolute pain. “What the hell did I just do, Dafne?”

Dafne just neighs for another apple.

FIVE.

He stumbles upon a private moment - but he doesn’t move, simply watches from the balcony and pretends to read. 

Absently, Anton realises just how sweet they are: the King and Queen of Lithuania with their son; laughing, playing, happy. The King is all boisterous laughs and lovely beams, as if he doesn’t have a single care in the world - not at that moment, not when he is with the two people who matter most to him. But the Queen is just as breathtaking, with her dark hair and radiant eyes and ridiculously charming smile. Anton’s never admired women, but even he can tell that she’s a vision. And he knows he never had this - any of this. His siblings tried their very best, but none of the Luxemburgs had the sort of incandescent joy that these three have. He was intruding on it, an unwelcome guest, he knew that. But the more he stood there, rooted to the spot with his book still on page eight and his eyes trained on the happy sight in front of him, he couldn’t help but think that this was what family looked like. This was what families were supposed to be like. 

Later, he realises he didn’t think of the King of Lithuania’s shoulders a single time. He just wanted to tell him that he had a beautiful family. 

SIX.

He’s had just about enough.

Anton’s sitting in the library, a book of poetry open against his knees, and he glances up to see the goddamn King of Lithuania, dressed up like…the goddamn King of Lithuania, looking all…like the goddamn King of Lithuania. He is seated at a desk, red hair falling into his eyes as he scratches away at a bit of parchment; focused and serious, with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth and a slight furrow to his brow. He looks like a red-haired angel from ( Lithuania ) God knows where, and Anton’s had just about enough. Then the man sighs, looking all thoughtful and sweet and nice.

And that is the last straw. 

“You know, I’m not a mathematician,” Anton begins, not thinking his words through - but then, when did he ever think anything through? His own birth hadn’t been thought through well enough. He was just a lesson in unfortunate events. When Lukas looks up, all confused and ridiculously attractive, he rambles on: “I mean, obviously. I’m too pretty to be a mathematician. But really, I’ve wondered for a while now, and - ” He snaps his book shut, eyebrows raised. “How the hell are you so - ” Anton gestured at his general vicintiy, shaking his head. “ - all of that. And what exactly is the width of your shoulders, because I’m a hundred percent certain that I’m not the first person to come asking you about that.” 

He pauses, a smile finding its way to his lips. “With all due respect, Your Majesty.”

[idornaseminary]

Chapter One-Hundred Twenty-Six: Natasha

Natasha knew one thing for sure, and that was that she had to get back to Idorna. Even if she had to risk her life to get out of here, she wasn’t going to spend the rest of her time stuck in this room, waiting for Reinhard to decide a worth punishment for her. Unfortunately, her options were so limited that it seemed as though trying to run or Disapparate were her only choices, and they each came with their own dangers that she didn’t like the idea of trying to face.

It had been quite awhile since she spoke to Reinhard, made her “confession”, and now she was just waiting for the punishment. Frankly, she was starting to get impatient. It would be nice to at least know what fate he intended for her, so that she could know what the best option for escape would be. But Reinhard was either having a hard time making up his mind, or just enjoyed torturing her by leaving her dangling like this. She certainly wouldn’t put it past him, not after everything else she’d seen him do lately.

Thankfully, he didn’t let her stew for any longer. The door finally opened to reveal the tall man, a grim look in his eyes. Natasha put on a smirk, situating herself in the dark, plush armchair; she crossed her ankles and rested her chin in one pale hand, trailing her brother’s movements with her dark eyes. “Hello, brother dearest,” she murmured, the tone high and mocking. She wasn’t even sure what the point of this was anymore, although the way his face creased with aggravation was amusing.

“Natasha,” he greeted, schooling his voice into a neutral tone that she might have actually been able to believe was devoid of emotion, if she couldn’t see his face. The lines in his face spelled anger, especially the curve of his lips and the tension in his forehead, but his eyes, those glistened with pain. Natasha didn’t know if the tears were ones of sadness, of grief, or something else, but he was clearly trying his hardest to restrain them.

“Have you determined my fate?” she asked him, the jest at the drama of the situation clear.

Reinhard shook his head a little. He didn’t understand how Natasha could take this all so lightly, but that wasn’t what he was here for. It wasn’t his job to understand her. “Yes.” He took a deep breath, as if to draw strength from the air. “I’m sending you away. Funny enough, to what I believe is the same asylum Mom and Dad tried to send you to.”

Natasha couldn’t help but allow her guard to drop slightly at that. She’d expected him to want to hurt her, or maybe even to send her away, of course, but not for him send her to the exact same place their parents had tried to. “W-What?” she stammered.

A small smirk appeared on Reinhard’s face when Natasha’s pale features fell from the smug apathy and into what could almost be described as despair. “They are sending two representatives tomorrow to take you. I sent them the tapes and they agreed that you are too dangerous to allow to go free.” He eyed her for a moment, and Natasha suddenly felt the discomfort of scrutiny under the same dark shade as her own eyes. “I will warn you, running would not be a good idea. I will not hesitate to stop you from hurting anyone else. Do you understand?”

All Natasha could do was nod mutely, still trying to understand, to figure out what she was going to do. She was being sent away, just like she’d feared with her parents. She didn’t even look up at Reinhard when he exited the room, once again leaving her by herself. What was she going to do? He would be looking for her to run, to try to escape, and maybe that was what he wanted. His conscience was probably keeping him from just executing her, but after seeing how he handled that gun, she could only imagine that he was itching for the excuse to kill her. And she didn’t want to give him that chance. But what other options did she have?

Without a wand, trying to apparate posed a large risk of splinching, which only increased the further she tried to go. And if she wanted to stay away from the man for long enough to get back to Idorna, she would have to go quite far. She had no doubt that he would tear Starnberg apart looking for her if she disappeared now.

Natasha was interrupted from her thoughts about her escape. “Come to gloat some more?” she asked with the door opened, barely turning to look at the varnished wood.

She was surprised when she got no response, and instead only heard a pair of muffled footsteps, quieter than Reinhard’s were. This was enough to make her look up, and she was honestly shocked to have her eyes land upon Franz. “What are you doing here?” she asked him, not bothering to disguise her surprise. There was no advantage in her being one step ahead of him here, and she honestly had no idea why he would be here to see her.

“Reinhard...Reinhard told me,” the blonde boy mumbled softly, ducking his head down nervously. He was shifting back and forth on his feet, toying with his fingers. His shoulders were hunched forward slightly, making him look much smaller than he was. “He told me what you did.”

Of course. Franz had already been afraid of her, and Natasha knew he’d suspected the same thing as Reinhard, even if the older man believed it more staunchly. It wouldn’t have taken much convincing to make Franz think that Natasha had in fact killed their parents, particularly once there was a recording of her admitting to the crime.

“Alright,” Natasha said, the word traveling slowly from her pink lips as she attempted to decipher the reason why Franz was here. “And did you want your own revenge? Is that why you’re here?”

Apparently, that was incorrect, because Franz’s eyes went wide with fear as he practically jumped and looked at Natasha. “No, no, not that!” he insisted, breath picking up at just the thought of hurting someone else. Natasha didn’t really understand why Franz was such a timid soul, although she couldn’t help but wonder if it was in part her fault.

“Then why are you here? Reinhard surely doesn’t want you to see me.”

Franz bit down and glanced at the door again, as if considering fleeing, before he shook his head at himself and shuffled further into the room. He took an agonizingly long time to decide what he wanted to do, although he eventually seated himself across from her, in the chair usually occupied by Reinhard. He clearly was trying to fight for words, and Natasha decided to just wait, to let him get there in his own time.

“Did you really do it?” was finally the quiet question that came from the teenager. Natasha frowned a little, wondering what kind of question that was. Surely he had already made up his mind about her.

“What do you mean? You heard the tapes. You heard Reinhard,” she told him.

Franz looked up slowly, his blue eyes searching her face, eyeing her more directly that he had in probably years. “I did hear them. But I want to hear it from you,” he told her, slowly building more confidence. Or not so slowly, Natasha noted, as she saw the way his posture was slowly straightening and his voice was gaining more of an edge.

“I already did this once, Franz. I don’t want to do it again,” Natasha said, holding his gaze.

The boy shook his head again, leaning forward a little, actually moving closer to her. “This should be easy for you. All you have to do is tell me whether or not you killed them. Natasha, did you do it?”

There was a hitch in her breath when he effectively called her out for what she was doing - avoiding the question. For some reason, it was much harder to lie to Franz than it was to Reinhard, much harder to tell him that she had been the cause of their parents’ death. He didn’t deserve it, and she didn’t want to give him her false confession.

“I…” She practically choked on the word, and Franz looked more and more earnest as he waited for the response. Finally, the dark-haired woman had to admit defeat. Out of everyone in the world, Franz was not the person she expected to break her. He’d always been so easy to take care of, a pushover. It never took more than a gentle suggestion for her to get him to do what she wanted, likely more out of his fear for her than anything else. But now, in this moment, for some reason he was the most powerful force against her; there was just something in the innocence of his face, the look of someone who just wanted to know the truth about his sister and his parents.

“No,” she breathed finally, ducking her head down and allowing her dark hair to form a curtain around her face.

Franz was quiet for a long moment after that, probably trying to process, to figure out which time she had been telling the truth. She’d been very convincing during her confession, certainly, but there was so much more emotion in the single word she’d just uttered, emotion that couldn’t be faked even by the greatest actors.

“No,” he repeated, his voice muted as well. “You didn’t kill them.” As if somehow, saying the words would help him to process them better.

Natasha caught her bottom lip between her teeth, working it slightly. She didn’t know what Franz was going to do with the information, or if he even believed her, but she was nervous. Finally, the blonde looked at her again. “I knew you couldn’t have done it.”

She couldn’t help but wonder how Franz would have known that, or why on earth he would have had that kind of faith in her. Based on both of their actions around each other the last few years, there was no reason for him to have any kind of belief that she was a better person than others thought. “What?” she asked finally.

It was Franz’s turn to duck his head, although this time it was more nervous and embarrassed. “I knew you couldn’t have killed them. It just didn’t seem like something you could do.”

Natasha couldn’t help shaking her head, still utterly confused. “You were terrified of me, Franz. You wouldn’t even look me in the eye. You barely will now. Surely you must have believed that I could be capable of something like that.”

Franz sighed a little, running a hand through his hair and ruffling up the careful style. He clearly didn’t care about looking disheveled right now, though, because he didn’t bother to try to fix it. “I...I don’t know. Something just felt wrong about it,” he said, not meeting her eyes as he gave a noncommittal shrug. “You’re my sister. I couldn’t imagine you killing our parents.”

A sigh escaped her at that. If only Reinhard held the same sentiment. But that didn’t matter right now. “And, what, you want to believe I’m good? That I’m not a bad person?” He nodded a little in response, and she slumped back in her seat; it was her turn to run her fingers through her hair, thinking. “I’m not good, Franz.” That got his attention, got him to look at her. “I’m not a good person. I’d argue that most people aren’t, but I’m worse than most.”

“But you can change!” Franz insisted. “You can stay here, you can learn to handle things like everyone else, how to not manipulate them and control everything. You’re already changing, already different. I don’t know what it is, but something about you isn’t the same. Can’t you see that?”

Natasha was well aware that he was right, that she was different. Was it really that obvious? But she didn’t think she was ready to just give up having control over people, didn’t even know if she could. It was part of who she was, and she liked seeing what she could make them do.

“And what if I don’t want to change?” she asked him. “What if I go back to it?”

Franz leaned forward a little, another hand dragging through his blond locks and further mussing the style. “Natasha, please,” he begged. “Reinhard is going to send you away. I am trying to help you!”

“I don’t need your help!” Natasha shot back, before realizing that that was very, very wrong. Help was what she desperately needed, because, while she may have had plans, there was no way to pull any of them off without at least a little help. “I can take care of myself, thank you. Maybe you should go.”

Franz looked at her for a long time, then sighed and shook his head. “Okay,” he mumbled, standing up. He rubbed one of his arms, clearly contemplating words before he left. “Just don’t forget that you’re still a person, Natasha. You’re still one of us.”

He shut the door on the way out, the click of the lock reverberating in Natasha’s head along with his words.

[taesanluv3r]

as the sun rises. (snippet ver!)

myung jaehyun x reader

heavily inspired by one of my fave romance movies 'before sunrise' <3 a lot of dialogue (just like the movie), a lot of cuteness! ignore any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. enjoyyy!!

full fic HERE!!

snippet wc: 1,225

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"no but i'm telling you honey, that's just not how it works! you never believe me when i say..."

a young and pretty girl sighs, trying her best to drown out the sound of the arguing couple as she leans against the seat of the train and stared deeper into the book in her hands. she can't really focus though, the aforementioned couple's quarrel only getting louder causing the girl to finally get off her seat in frustration to sit in another one just a few windows down the cart. as her body makes contact with the plush leather material once again, she can't help but feel a set of eyes fixed onto her. the girl furrows her eyebrows, slowly moving her gaze away from the book and over to the guy that sat directly adjacent to her on the other side of the train cart. they make eye contact, he's quite good looking. an asian man, about a couple centimetres taller than she was. and he, too, had a half-read book in hand.

the boy smiles at her first, she returns the gesture before reverting back to the page that remained opened. "what are you reading?" he suddenly speaks, and she looks up at him in surprise. "um, this" she replies, lifting up the paper-back to show him it's cover. pride and prejudice by jane austen. he nods, familiar with the infamous piece of literature. "and you?" she asks, eyes lingering at the hard-cover book in his hands. "ah" is all he says, lifting up the collection of paper so she could see it well. metamorphosis by franz kafka. she nods too, going back into reading mode, and he does as well. they don't say anything to each other for about three minutes or so until the guy abruptly shuts his book and turns his body fully in her direction.

"hey, i'm heading to the dining car...care to join me?" he's standing and she's sitting, their eyes stare into each other's for a moment before she smiles at him. "um...yeah, let me grab my bag" she doesn't notice but the boy has a sort of proud glint in his eyes, waiting patiently as she gathered her things and making way for her to walk in front of him.

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"so...that couple, huh?" the boy says, beginning to slice at the sausage on his english breakfast plate. the girl giggles, "yeah..." she looks at him intently, her eyebrows knitted together. he notices, tilting his head off to the side. "what? is there something on my face?" she laughs, "no, no! it's just...you're not from around here, huh?" he smirks, "that obvious?" they share a mutual laugh. "well, you're right. i'm here on holiday...er, maybe not a holiday. i'm not really sure what to call it...but anyways, i come from korea" her eyes widen and her lips form an oval shape as she nods in understanding. "your english is amazing" she states, "i'm jealous" and he chuckles, "yeah...i studied abroad for a while. and you? are you from here?" she shakes her head at his inquiry, "oh, no! i go to art school in france, i was just here to visit a friend" he nods, sighing as he stares out the window. "so...you're going back there, then? to france" the girl smiles, watching the trees and clouds that passed by outside the train cart. "mhm...and you are...?" he answers right away, "i get off in vienna, catching a flight back home from there tomorrow morning" the girl responds with a hum, "how's europe been? your not-so holiday trip" she asked and he looked up for a moment as if he were really thinking of a good answer. "it's beautiful, really..." the guy trails off, "...but?" she's curious, her gaze on him getting stronger. "i don't know...i guess being on trains for most of the trip and not really knowing where i'm going...it's just...is starting to get to me" she laughs at his response, taking a sip out of the iced tea that sat in front of her on the table.

"i think this is vienna..." the young woman says, watching the world that stood behind the large glass window. the young man nods, "guess that means i have to get off soon..." they shared a moment of silence, juxtaposing the way natural conversation seemed to ricochet among the pair for the past hour and a half or so that they sat in the dining car. "we have arrived in vienna, please be careful as you exit the cart and don't forget your belongings...have a safe trip!" the announcement sounded scratchy and muffled coming from the old speakers that stuck against most corners of the transport. "so...um...i guess this is goodbye" the guy says, retrieving his stuff and getting off of the seat. she nods, "have fun in vienna" and then he turns around to leave, the girl left all alone as she watched his figure slowly disappear. she sighs, some sort of uneasy feeling starting to rumble up in her stomach. surely he can't just leave like that? right?

and as if he could read her mind from miles away, the girl gasps when she is met with his face again. he looked out of breath, his hands entangled with the strap of his carry-on bag. she's confused, not really understanding what exactly was going on. she was about to speak, not being able to stand the silence that flowed between them. however, he spoke first, though his voice was still a little mumbly from the way he had ran right back into the cart. "come with me" is all he said to her, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. "what?" she asked, not believing the words that came out of his mouth. "c'mon, it's just one night. and i'm not gonna lie i really enjoyed talking to you and i know you feel this connection too and i think this short vienna trip would be a lot more...fun if you were around...?" the last bit of his slight monologue came off as a question, like he was almost unsure about whether taking a stranger off the train to a foreign country with him was a good idea. she laughs, "okay" is all she said, getting her stuff and standing in front of him. "okay?" he asked, eyes widened like he had just seen a ghost.

"yes! c'mon, the train's about to leave again, we have to get off"

the pair walked closely beside each other as they hopped off the train, the automatic doors shutting tight behind them. he grabs onto her bag, taking it away from her hand to help her carry it and she thanks him silently. they stop a few feet away from the train tracks, breathing in deeply to take in the new air. "so..." he starts suddenly, "what's your name?" she widens her eyes, giggling at the thought of agreeing to get off the train before even learning his name. "i'm yn" he smiles, "what a pretty name for a pretty girl, yn" she rolls her eyes, tilting up her head to look at him. "and you?" she asks, tumbling in a zig-zag pattern as they began to walk. he grins, the corners of his mouth pointing up as he did so.

"i'm jaehyun, it's nice to meet you"

end of snippet.

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FULL FIC SOOOON!!!! and hiiii im finally out of hiatus 😭😭😭😭 im EXHAUSTED from my trip and i have a fever rn 😭😭😭 but i was watching before sunrise on the plane recently and i just thought it wld be so cute as a myungjae fic <333 hope u enjoyed this teaser snippet moment, reblogs n feedback is VERY appreciated 🍭 love, kona.