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#2 years ago she used to fall asleep standing up because she was so afraid of him
thebibliosphere · 1 year
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ID: a video of a small tan Shih Tzu barking and growling atop a pink couch, trying to get @mothman-etd’s attention.
Mothman is in his office playing a game and Holly Mop is furious about it. Lots of grumbling and barking in this one.
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willowjay07 · 1 year
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I posted 1,256 times in 2022
That's 1,256 more posts than 2021!
76 posts created (6%)
1,180 posts reblogged (94%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@lastsona
@thesoftboiledegg
@indigayghost
@hazelnut-u-out
@4x01
I tagged 164 of my posts in 2022
#writblr - 8 posts
#fml - 7 posts
#youtube - 6 posts
#meme - 5 posts
#writing - 5 posts
#iran - 3 posts
#iran protests - 3 posts
#masha amini - 3 posts
#kanye west - 3 posts
#shitpost - 3 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#either way it was a pretty dick move to make them canon in the last episode send castiel to superhell before dean could respond and not hav
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
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God help us all. 
6 notes - Posted December 2, 2022
#4
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This is what’s going on in my head at all times. 
7 notes - Posted November 29, 2022
#3
My thoughts on Nandermo
I know their relationship is currently toxic, but I want both of them to improve before they get together. I want Nandor to stop being an ass. I want him to treat Guillermo with the respect  he deserves / like an equal. Hopefully Derek will turn Guillermo into a vampire, and Nandor will have no choice but to treat him like an equal. Guillermo wouldn’t be his familiar anymore. He’d be a vampire like all of the other residents in the house. He wouldn’t be their servant, he’d be their equal. 
I also want Guilermo to stop taking shit from Nandor, and stand up for himself more often. He should snap at Nandor for casually insulting him, he shouldn’t have to do all the chores in their house, he shouldn't have to do all of the hunting, and he should be more independent. He needs a life outside of being Nandor’s familiar. 
I think both of them do love each other. Guillermo has had opportunities to turn into a vampire. He’s killed so many vampires that I’ve lost count. He could’ve just let them bite him, kill them, then drink their blood. I think he even had some vampire blood saved in their refrigerator at one point. He could’ve just drunk it and left, but he stayed. If he didn’t love Nandor, then why else would he stay?  
Guillermo could’ve left years ago, but he didn’t. He’s risked his life so many times to protect Nandor, he rescued him from that cult, he tried to cheer him up when they were de-programming him (“It’s me, Nandor, the world’s greatest vampire!”), he made little puppets of him and Nandor, he was holding the puppets when Nandor left, he killed a whole room full of vampires to save his friends, Guillermo said Nandor should be proud of who he is when Nandor was complaining about his vampirism, and Guillermo confesses to killing the Baron when they’re on trial. 
I think Nandor, well, I’m not exactly sure what his problem is. I think he has repressed his feelings for Guillermo because he’s just a familiar. All of the other familiars didn’t last long. They’re supposed to be viewed as servants and nothing more. Nandor does love Guillermo, but he has trouble expressing it. He could be afraid of what the other vampires would think if he started dating Guillermo. He’s also self destructive, so that’s not good. . 
 He puts up an uncaring facade, because Guillermo is “just a familiar” (and a vampire slayer). There are cracks in his facade though. He asked Guillermo to stay with him until he falls asleep, he made Guillermo a glitter painting (and Guillermo hung it up in his room), when they were fighting the sire Nandor prematurely yanked Gullermo away and went to fight it himself, Nandor says he’d been very unhappy since Guillermo left, he gave him a day off each week, I could hear the worry in his voice at the night market fight when he says “I think I killed my friend”, he said Guillermo has been a great familiar, he called Guillermo his friend, and Marwa kisses Guillermo after Nandor wishes she would like what he likes. 
 Plus, I’m sure Guillermo being a vampire slayer didn’t help. In season 4, it’s revealed that a vampire having a relationship with a vampire slayer is very taboo. The guide got her job as a punishment for it. When everyone found out Guillermo was a vampire slayer, they wanted to kill him, but Nandor wouldn’t let them. 
 I think Nandor has been searching for love since season 2, and it’d be ironic if the love of his life was right in front of him the whole time. Minus his self destructive behavior, it would explain why all of his attempts at finding love have been unsuccessful. They’ve known each other for 13 years. They’re each other’s best friends, and Guillermo is really all Nandor has. He and Laszlo bicker, he and Nadja argue about the Vampiric Council, and nobody likes Colin Robertson. Of course he would grow to care for him even if it’s not in a romantic way. 
I think Nandor hasn’t turned Guillermo into a vampire yet because his perception of time is different, and he’s afraid Guillermo will leave him. In the first episode, Nandor thought Guillermo had only been there for 2 years. Nandor thinks the only reason he stays is because he wants to become a vampire. It’s why Nandor gets do agitated whenever Guillermo brings it up. He doesn’t want him to leave.  Guillermo has left before (twice I think). He’s afraid Guillermo will leave permanently, and not come back if he does get turned into a vampire. 
ALSO: Sean called Guillermo Nandor’s boyfriend when he and Laszlo were selling pillows (or something) 
And there’s this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQZENyKutdk&t=203s
TLDR: I want both of them to improve themselves and their relationship before they get together. Guillermo needs to become more independent, and Nandor needs to stop being such an ass. Nandor needs to treat Guillermo like an equal, and Guillermo needs to have a life outside of being Nandor’s familiar. 
I’m sorry this is so long. It was supposed to be way shorter. This took a couple hours. My crappy internet went down when I was writing this (I hate it with a passion), and I had some time to kill.  It kills me to write a few paragraphs for school, but I’ve got no problem writing a two page essay about Nandermo of all things. I’ve recently developed an unhealthy obsession with the show, and I’m rewatching it. I regret nothing. 
8 notes - Posted October 8, 2022
#2
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15 notes - Posted October 23, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
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18 notes - Posted August 30, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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celestialrry · 3 years
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stood up
3.5k
hello everyone!!!! I've been awol for literally weeks because i had absolutely NO motivation to write but i finally finished this piece ˊᗜˋ so YAY. ALSOO thank you for following me, liking, and reblogging my pieces (it encourages me somuchsothankyouireallyappreciateit-- and remember reblogging really helps us writers :))) )  here’s a hug for all ur patience and feel free to send me asks or requests i love talking to you guys! ε(♡'-')з
summary: Harry keeps standing Y/N up. (request from @ballerinrry! thank u love)
warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol and sex, angsty but with a happy ending cause for some reason i can never let them end on a bad note
Y/N was excited.
It had been a while since Harry had asked her to go on a date, it was always the other way around recently. She couldn’t blame him though, Y/N knew just how busy Harry always was, and it wasn’t like he was purposefully not asking her to go do things, he just had a lot on his plate.
That’s what she kept telling herself anyways. 
It’s what she told herself when it had been 2 weeks since they had even eaten a meal together, and given the fact that just a few months ago Harry had come back to London for a while, that was rare. So, Y/N asked him to grab lunch on a Saturday while they were lying in bed together, and when he agreed, but failed to show up, leaving Y/N sitting at the cafe, her lips morphed into a frown and her eyes not focusing on the phone in front of her, she told herself he was simply booked up with meetings and studio time and such. 
Thats what he told her when he got into bed that night to apologize for accidentally standing her up. She forgave him, of course, and suggested they could just get dinner the next week. He agreed, even walked around to his calander her to show her he was marking the date off in his calendar with a heart, her first initial, and 7:00 PM etched into the little box with red sharpie. 
So, the week passed with quick kisses of good mornings and good nights, and while Harry was gone Y/N had on a black dress she had been excited to wear for a while now, with those little mini silver heels and a coat strung over her shoulders as she sat on her couch waiting for Harry to swing by to pick her up. She shot him a text that simply asked “You otw? xx”
He was not.
It took about 30 minutes of waiting on their couch to realize he was standing her up, again. And it took until the next morning for Harry to see her text (his phone had been on do not disturb while he was at the studio and he ended up spending the night at Sarah and Mitch’s after a few beers), and for the guilt to seep through his veins. 
He apologized, again. And Y/N forgave him, again. 
Only until it got to the point where Y/N no longer remembered the amount of times Harry had stood her up, for being at the studio, or sleeping after a meeting, or simply just not paying attention to his phone, she knew there was a problem. 
Harry was fully aware of the problem too. He knew that this was no way to ever treat a partner, and if someone was doing this to him, he’d dump them— well, he’s never been one to end a relationship unless it was necessary, so that’s an exaggeration, but it’s the principle of the thing. 
Which is why when he got home one day around 11 PM, gave her a kiss to the forehead after she sat up in their bed to give him a hug, and a soft  “Can we talk?” escaped her lips, he knew he had to fix this. So he asked her if they could talk over dinner the next night, he just wanted to sleep but also wanted to fix things with his girl, asking her if she was free of course, before telling her he’s gonna make a reservation at that nice restaurant the two of them used to go to quite often, because “it’s been a while since I’ve taken my favorite girl out”.
A grin broke out on her face because he had asked her! And if Harry was planning it, there’s no way he’d cancel or stand her up. 
 So yeah, Y/N was excited.
She woke up that morning with a smile on her face, and something akin to a what she thinks a rainbow would feel like running through her veins. It had only been a few months since she’d last been on a date with her boyfriend of almost 2 years and a half in person, and she was going to make the most of it. Because after this date, things would change. They’d spend more time together again and it would be like this little bump (that neither had acknowledged) never happened.
Y/N did, well, everything to prepare. Took a long shower, shaved, put on that coconut lotion Harry likes— he tended to dig his face in her neck when he smelled it while holding her—, brushed her teeth more than 3 times, dug in her closet to find that one patterned soft purple dress she bought ages ago but never had a change to wear it, until now, put on those really cute heels Harry said he liked once (“Looks like something you’d wear on a runway pet, I love ‘em.”), and even styled her hair differently than normal.
He had told her he would swing by at 8 on the dot after the studio, and soon enough, it was 8, with no sign from the man who made the promise himself. Y/N thought maybe there was traffic, he was just running late, texted him a quick, “Can’t wait to see you!! xxx” and put her phone on the coffee table, waiting on their couch. 
8 turned to 9, 9 turned to 10, 10 turned to 11, and soon it was midnight. Y/N doesn’t think she’d ever felt more empty than how she felt then, walking to their shared room of a year, slipping off her heels and tossing them towards the closet, as well as pulling her dress over herself and letting it fall to the floor behind her, grabbing that one t-shirt she always wears when she needs comfort (which just happened to an extra 2018 Live on Tour shirt Harry had laying around that she snatched just 3 months into them dating), and flopping into bed.  
She couldn’t fall asleep, and instead spent her time curled up in their bedsheets, a steady flow of tears making their way down her blush covered cheeks.
。:°ஐ
Harry usually didn’t make mistakes.
Sure, he had his moments, grabbing the wrong coffee off the counter when his name was called at the cafe, forgetting to text Jeff that he actually couldn’t make it to a meeting that was scheduled in a few hours. Just little things, things that didn’t matter that much, and could always be fixed. He didn’t usually make mistakes that weren’t easy to fix. He just wasn’t that kind of guy.
Until, he was.
Harry loved Y/N. He loved having her around, loved spending time with her, loved loving on her, loved kissing her, loved touching her, loved the way she went about almost everything. He was so in love with her, that hurting her was out of the question. He never wanted to be the one to make her cry, make her bottom lip quiver before the tears rushed out like he’d seen many times before, due to movies, his songs (which as sadistic as it sounds was an ego builder to have someone so close to him so affected by the music he wrote), her school work, or even her friends that weren’t being so nice.
In fact, he was so in love with her, even being so afraid of commitment (it took him over a year of them dating to ask her to move in), all he wanted to do was blurt out those 4 dreaded words. “Will you marry me?” It was a bond for life, and he was terrified of that, but with Y/N all he wanted to do was spend the rest of his living days with her.
When Harry had come back from being in L.A. for so long and finally being in the same city as his girlfriend back at their home, all they did was spend time together. Every time he saw Y/N all he wanted to do was say those 4 words that he hadn’t even fully come to terms with himself. It was dangerous, and Harry’s self control when it came to Y/N was lacking, so he simply did was every normal person would do in his situation.
He stood her up. 
Many more times than he could count, and of course he felt like the shittiest person in the world— shittiest boyfriend in the world—but at least now she can’t possibly be under the impression that he wanted to marry her, which is what he wanted. Or thought he wanted, until Sarah called him up one day after he had stood Y/N up for dinner the night before and told him off. Told Harry just how fucking terrible he made Y/N feel, how unwanted she thought she was, how she felt like they were loosing their relationship, and Harry didn’t know what to do with himself. (Of course Y/N had sobbed to Sarah about it over the phone while she was drunk off the wine she opened 40 minutes after Harry said he would be there, so she really didn’t even remember the conversation).
And later that day Harry had come home, heard her wavering voice asking if they could talk, and decided in his head he would tell her how he felt, how sorry he was, and how he wanted to be with her forever and love her forever if she allowed him. He had a few expectations for their dinner, that Y/N would probably tell him how he’s made her feel, and Harry would apologize, tell her why he did it, explain he thought it was no excuse, then tell her he plans on marrying her (obviously not proposing just yet, but finally bringing up the conversation they had never had even though they were in a serious committed relationship) and they’d go back home, have the most amazing sex ever, and forget about the whole thing. 
What Harry didn’t expect was to get a call from Jeff around 5 asking him to come to the studio to fix few vocals, then end up nailing down 2 songs in one night, go to a bar with the band to celebrate, get drunk, then pass out at Mitch and Sarahs flat. 
But that’s what happened, according to Mitch, who woke Harry up the very next morning. 
“Good morning man, wakey wakey,” Mitch’s teasing tone echoed through Harry’s (what felt like full of vodka) brain as he groaned and squinted his eyes. “Why are you waking me up at this hour in the morning?” Harry asked drearily, sighing and simultaneously regretting last night as a whole because the last thing he wanted to do while hungover was be up before at least 9 AM.
“We’ve gotta go to meet with Jeff about tour in like a hour, H” Mitch stated .
At Mitch’s words Harry sat up on their couch, eyes wide in fear. “Wait mate, I thought tha’ meeting was on Wednesday.”
“It is Wednesday H, god how drunk did we let you get last night…” Mitch said, beginning to recount some of Harry’s antics the night before. Harry however, couldn’t hear a thing with the blood pumping through his ears. If today was Wednesday, that meant yesterday was Tuesday, and he went and got trashed at a bar with his friends Tuesday night when— when he was supposed to be on a date with Y/N, when he was supposed to confess his intentions, when he was supposed to apologize for standing her up over and over, yet instead he went and did it again.
Now this, this was a mistake.
“…H. H. Harry? Are you there?” Mitch’s voice came back into focus and Harry shook his head. “I- fuck, I was supposed to take Y/N out last night.” Harry said, his voice trembling.
‘I’m sure she’ll forgive you, it’s just one night.” Mitch tried to make Harry feel better. He knew Y/N was a very forgiving person, she would get over this in no time.
“No, she won’t. I-I’ve stood her up for the past month and a half, Mitch.”
At these words, Mitch stands straight up  making pained eye contact with Sarah in the kitchen who was overhearing most of this conversation with her eyes wide. She had no idea it was this bad. “Month and a half? I thought it was just that one time a few weeks ago, Harry what the hell is wrong with you?” Harry simply shook his head and didn’t reply. He had absolutely no idea how to make it up to her. “I-fuck, I don’t know Mitch!” Harry raised his voice. “I need to see her and apologize, now.” Harry said, standing up and rushing over to the front door and slipping on his shoes. 
“This meeting is mandatory Harry, as much as I want you to see her too, she’d probably still asleep, and I don’t think this can be solved in under an hour.” Mitch said calmly, already knowing Harry was close to walking out his door. Harry stayed silent for a moment, weighing the options. Either go apologize to his girlfriend, or prioritize himself over her again. 
“We can do it another day, I’m sorry, but I have to go see her, tell Jeff I feel sick.” And he walked out without another word.
。:°ஐ
The morning after Harry stood Y/N up again was brutal. 
She stayed up all night, replaying moments with Harry in her head, analyzing if he wanted to be there with her, wondering if maybe he felt like he had to stay with her out of pity. It was torture, and the pain seemed to turn into numbness as time went by, and eventually the sun came up, and she stayed in bed, her motivation lost.
A loud crash and “Fuck!” woke her up, swollen eyes fluttering open to the invasive noise. Y/N furrowed her brows, her mind connecting everything that happened yesterday and unfortunately reminding her of the unbearable pain she went through the night before. A groan escaped her lips as she sat up and flung her legs out of her bed sheets that had been flung off the bed in the middle of the night.  She began grumbling to herself as she made her way downstairs, ready to tell Harry off for making so much noise.
Her mouth stopped moving, and instead remained in limbo as her eyes met Harry’s. His mouth opened to speak, but his words were caught in his throat as he saw the state she was in. It was when her mouth pressed into a line that he could begin talking. “Y/N, baby, please I know you don’t wanna see me or talk t’me right now but I’m so fuckin’ sorry, love. So so sorry, it was an accident, I went t’ the studio to fix a few things then got hung up on the songs and by the time we went to celebrate I completely lost track of time, and I was too drunk to drive home so I crashed at Mitch’s.”
Her mouth fell open at his words. Everything was happening too fast. Hearing that he stood her up to drink at a fucking bar to celebrate himself, then coming home and accidentally knocking over a glass in their kitchen (which she put together was the crash earlier after seeing the shards of broken glass on the floor) frustrated her to no end. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him any longer, and Harry had stopped talking after realizing what he just admitted to her. Without another glance, instead of looking at Y/N’s tear stained face, all he saw was her back, walking up the stairs to their room. 
“Fuck,” He said to himself before following her up the pink stairs. “Y/N, love wait-please, I’m so sorry, I just need to talk to you, I need to explain myself, please.” He begged as she shut their bedroom door in his face, his voice turning into a desperate whine at the end. 
。:°ஐ
It’s been 3 days since then, and she hasn’t spoken to him. He would leave in the mornings, kissing her forehead and mumbling an “I love you” and telling her exactly what time he’d be home, before leaving and coming back on time to find an empty plate in the sink and her lying in their bed, whether it be reading, scrolling on her phone, or typing on her laptop. He would apologize many times, reaching his hand out for hers and she would simply situate herself in their bed and lay down, back turned to him. 
Harry just couldn’t take it anymore. 
It was when she had finally let him kiss her forehead goodnight that he decided to take his chance. “Y/N.” He spoke softly, with no response or anything to indicate she heard him. “Baby, can we please talk- or I’ll talk and you listen, I just- I really need to say some things.” 
She was still faced away from him when he leaned against their headboard and he decided to keep going. 
“I- um. I’m sure you know how sorry I am, but I really am- sorry I mean. Not just for tonight but for every other time I’ve stood you up. I’m so sorry for not showing you how much you matter to me, and how much the things you do matter to me.”
It was then that she slowly sat up next to him and looked at him, eyes begging him to continue. He blushed at her intense eye-contact that he had barely gotten over the past few days and took a breath, opting to look at his hands fidgeting in his lap.
“We’ve been together for 2 and almost a half years, which is the longest relationship I’ve been in, and it’s no excuse to treat you this way, but I had just been thinking about how things progress even further than now,” He coughs. “Which is marriage, and when I finally came home, all I wanted to do was ask you to marry me- I don’t- m’not proposing right now, I just- I got really scared because wanting to spend the rest of your life with someone is crazy to me,
I’ve never thought that way about anyone else until you, I didn’t even really want to get married before you, and I started to distance myself before I ended up telling you this, but obviously that blew up in my face.” He chuckled a bit, locking eyes with her unreadable ones for a moment and lifting a hand to run through his hair. “What I’m trying to say, is that I love you, so so much, and I plan on marrying you— obviously if you want to too, of course— and I’m so sorry for trying to make you think that I didn’t care about you anymore or love you any less, because it’s the complete opposite of that.”
His eyes were watery now, as he started down at his interlocked fingers, and his eyes widened when her hand was gently placed over his own. “Harry,” Y/N began. “Look at me, please.” 
His head lifted to see her facing him, her brows knitted and a small smile on her face. “I forgive you, okay? I could tell you were kind of scared of commitment when we first started dating, and I wish I could say your reason for standing me up is surprising but it’s not.” They both chuckled a bit at this. “I- I’m still upset at you, I need you to know that, because 2 months of thinking the love of your life is avoiding you doesn’t feel all too great, so you suck for that,” she said, planting a quick kiss to his cheek which quickly turned pink. “But Harry, even if you asked me to marry you a year ago I would have said yes. I love you, so much, and I plan on spending the rest of my life with you as well. I’m sorry for giving you the silent treatment, it was… unnecessary and immature. So, thank you for apologizing. I love you.” She confessed again.
“S’okay, I deserved it, and I love you too. Maybe even more. So um, we’re okay?” Harry asked, a hopeful smile on his face. 
She nodded with a smile and pulled him into a much needed hug and pulled away only for him to bring her into an even more needed kiss. “If you ever try to pull that shit again, I’m breaking up with you.” She laughed and he tackled her into the sheets hiding his face in her neck.
“Duly noted, love. Duly noted.”
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bangtanfancamp · 3 years
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Champagne Silk | KNJ
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⋅summary: Almost year ago, you became the arranged bride of the most powerful man in the city, Kim Namjoon, but this morning, with you, he’s just a man who’s head over heels for you who can’t help getting lost thinking about his future with you.
Alternatively: no matter how powerful a man Namjoon is, he is still a klutz in the kitchen. A sexy klutz though.
⋅ author’s masterlist
⋅part two of the Silk series ( read part 1 here)
⋅also the second installment of breakfast with bangtan series (masterlist here)
⋅pairing: mafia!namjoon x reader
⋅genre: mafia! au, arranged marriage! Au, smut, fluff, angst, established relationship
⋅word count: 15.5k words
⋅rating: mature
⋅warnings: a generous amount of consensual sexual activities 🙃, brief scene of oral sex, impregnation kink, a shared bath tub, multiple instances of christiana being uncomfortable with using proper technical names for genitalia and being intentionally ambiguous instead. (honestly it’s more tame and wholesome than you think but god, if these two aren’t hot for each other )
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“Damn it.” 
The sound comes rumpled from the other side of the kitchen, like someone’s trying to keep it hidden. It’s so subdued and muttered that around anyone else, it might have been successfully hidden. But not right now. And certainly not with you. Because you know the distinct, adorable huff of your husband’s regret in an instant.
“You all right over there, darling?” There’s an innocence in your voice to hide your humor.
“Promise you won’t laugh if I tell you?” 
“Oh, unfortunately I can do no such thing, my love. You’ll just have to brave the odds and tell me.” 
Your smile is benevolent, but unyielding. You politely, pleasantly even, refuse to give him another option, and he knows it. It’s that simple. Even with his back to you, he knows the jig is up. As he hunches with heavy shoulders, he sighs and mutters something too low for you to pick up at first.
“Once more for the people in the back, yeah?” You tease.
“I said, I spilled wine on everything,” he exhales. 
His voice is tinged in shades of caramel, rich with resignation, as he confesses, stepping aside so you can see the mess he’s made. 
“Oh, Joon.” 
A terribly bright fondness pulls your lips into a smile as your clumsy giant sheepishly ducks his head across the room. His once pristine white shirt, his linen pants and your white antique tablecloth are all freshly dip dyed in swirls of Pinot Grigio and rosé.
“I know. I know. You don’t have to say it.” His eyes flit down to the stack of too many wine glasses slotted between his large fingers that have spilled their bounty across every available fabric surface.
“You have no idea what I’m about to say,” you point out graciously.
Crossing the room, you tip up on your toes to press a tender kiss to the spots where his jolly dimples would show if he weren’t so flustered. 
“MmmHmm. Sure I don’t.” He squints at you while you slip one glass at a time out of his grip and reach for a cloth.
“Precisely. You shouldn’t assume, Namjoon. You know what they say.” You smirk, wetting the cloth with water you know will be too frigid for him to stand in this half asleep state he’s in, but the stains have got to go.
“And what exactly do they say?” His large palms dip to rest on his hips as he braces for your commentary.
“Simply that assumptions only make an ass out of you and me so…”
His nose scrunches in distaste, even as he starts to laugh. “What a beastly phrase. I forget how much delicacy Americans have.” 
“Oh heaps of it. More than they know what to do with, really.” You shrug as you wring out the cloth. “Positively genteel. Is that not why you chose to marry one?” You add with a wry smile.
Glancing down at the bands on your finger, you warm at the way they glisten in the bits of lazy Sunday light filtering through the window. Namjoon’s glints golden across the room as he waits for your rescue. Both still new enough to feel like a novelty. Enough to make a small light inside you beam with pride whenever you catch sight of it.
“I chose to marry the only one I could find who was quick enough to get the stains I make out before they set and sweet enough not to give me grief for it.” He arches an eyebrow down at you in challenge as you slip one hand past the deeply undone row of buttons on his shirt to pull the fabric up and away from his skin as you begin to gently blot at the wine.
“Oh no. Well, I hate to inform you of this, but unfortunately, I’m actually 0 for 2 in those qualifications. But I will sincerely try my best since you’ve placed so much trust in me.” You chuckle as you set to work. “Would it be helpful if I mention what a smart wife you have to have ixnayed buying that cabernet sauvignon you wanted so badly, especially given your current predicament?”
Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to your forehead before dipping to press his nose against your own while shaking his head. 
“No. Not in the slightest.”
“See? That’s good to know. Would have been awful if I mentioned the Merlot I put back too then. Can you imagine? Could have been so unseamly.”
He laughs, smiling against your hairline. “Well, what would have been the point of whisking my bride all the way out to a little villa in wine country and inviting guests only to not serve them red wine?”
“The point would have been you not turning into the kool-aid man whenever said wine inevitably spilled all over you. Case in point.” You look up at him through wide, fluttered lashes as you press the icy cold cloth against a particularly bold splatter on his chest. The frigid water grazes his nipple through his thin shirt and your giant of a man winces like he was wounded on the playground.
“Hey, that’s freezing.” He moves to swat your hand away. 
“Would you rather just take this off then? So I can work properly,” You smirk.
“No,” he sighs. “That would just be colder.” 
He looks so adorable right now. The lavender locks you’d once loved so well have been replaced, faded into a dusty blonde instead. His thick hair, usually coiffed so neatly, so perfectly, is currently disheveled entirely. Bits that had been gently curated to frame his face the night before are now plastered to his forehead, others shooting off at odd angles, all from falling asleep on the couch beside you once your dinner guests finally left late last night. 
He’s still in last night's now stained and rumpled clothes, still looking absolutely divine with the sleeves cuffed against his elegant forearms and his now wide open neckline thanks to the buttons undone all the way down past his rib cage.
His body is every bit a grown man, but his sleepy features- those wide eyes and pouted lips- make him look every bit the little boy you saw once in his mothers photo albums the week of the wedding. Big Namjoon still makes the same faces when he makes a mess as little Namjoon, and it makes your heart squeeze in your chest.
“Don’t be such a weenie,” you tease. 
“Careful who you tease, woman. You’re the only one in this city who forgets how many people are afraid of me.”
“This city is half a day’s drive away. There’s no one to fear you here,Joonie. Besides, your enemies have clearly never seen how quickly you’d fall in a battle against the cold or else you would have been displaced ages ago,” you tease with a twinkle in your eyes as he narrows his at you.
“I don’t think you’d like ice water on your breasts first thing in the morning either.” He huffs under his breath.
“You never know til you try,” you wink.
“Would you like to try?” His eyes rake over you salaciously despite the tenderness in his smile. 
“No, I can’t say that I do,” you chuckle, pushing a palm against his chest. “Besides, it’s hardly first thing in the morning, Joon. It’s almost noon.” You nod toward the clock.
There’s still sleep in his voice when he laughs, the sounds rich and resonant where it blooms from his chest. “Well, it’s still morning for me when we didn’t fall asleep til well after 3 because our guests don’t know when to leave.”
You smile to yourself at the memory of time spent with your friends. Well, more accurately Namjoon’s friends, i.e. the members of his crew who have become like family to both of you. Namjoon’s been on the move so much with work lately that there’s been no time to simply sit and enjoy their company. You were in raptures when he suggested they join you for dinner last night.
“It was so good to see Hoseok and Jungkookie though. Their new girlfriends seem so sweet.” 
Namjoon’s gaze seems far off somewhere as he listens to you.“They do, don’t they? JK’s seemed spunky too. She’s good for him.” 
“I think so too. He spent half the night blushing- he was so happy. It was good to see him so over the moon for once, that little romantic.”
Namjoon smiles, a soft thing nestled in the pocket of his cheek, full of fondness for the youngest of his friends. “Yeah, I’m glad he finally found someone so good for him.” 
Pulling you in, he kisses you gently, once, twice before pressing his lips to the top of your forehead, an unspoken “as good as you are for me” hidden his warm brown eyes.
“Big softie,” you whisper, reaching up to cradle his face, thumb brushing over his cheeks. He tips his face toward your palm to plant a kiss there too, his lips just brushing the inside of your wedding band as you smile.
“For you? Always.”
“For me? It was the food last night. God, That charcuterie board Jin brought was positively masterful.” The memory alone has your mouth watering. “Such a shame it was all gone so soon though.”
“Ooo, speaking of,” Namjoon slips out of your grip to rustle around in the kitchen behind you. “Not quite.” 
“What did you do?” You narrow your eyes at him as you settle into a wooden chair to start tending to the swirling stains on the tablecloth.
“Oh, the best thing. Husband of the year level best thing.”
“Husband of the year? Can't wait to see this then. Very moderate expectations, indeed.”
With his back to you, you can’t see what he’s up to, but you can certainly hear it. Especially the low grunt when his hip snags on the new island counter. This poor man was clearly made for a different life than this old world kitchen provides. You wonder which will go first, your husband or the architectural detail. You chuckle to yourself until you realize exactly what it is he’s carrying.
“Kim Namjoon, is that-?”
“A mini stolen charcuterie board? You bet it is,” he winks your way, and a storm of winged things flutter in your stomach.
“How did you even-“
“When you had everyone gathered in the backyard, and Jimin tripped over the cord for the string lights.”
“I’ll never know how such a graceful man can cause such disasters. Or how you managed to befriend the only other man on earth as poised and clumsy as you all at once,” you chuckle, stealing a fig from the corner of the board as he peels back the plastic film covering it. “Oh my god, that’s so good.”
“Mmm Hmm. I knew you thought so,” he taps you on the nose lovingly. “You always ask Jin to make these for you, and then you’re always so sad when all twelve people you invite make it vanish in half an hour.”
“I know. I know. It would go farther if there were fewer people to share it with, but Joon, the boys are like family. I haven’t seen them all together in so long. I couldn’t bear to leave anyone out.”
There’s a twinkle glinting in his eyes as he smiles down at you. He’s glad to see how soft your heart somehow remains despite the life you both lead. 
“Which is precisely why I took the liberty of stashing some of this bounty away while the guests were busy and saving it for you.” 
When he smiles at you like that, all softened edges and warm brown eyes, it’s impossible not to fall in love with him all over again. It’s not like you’ve forgotten how kind he is or how striking he can be when he smiles. It’s simply that the more you see it, the more in love you become.
Rising up in your chair, you reach across the table to tenderly cradle his cheek.
“I hate to say this, because then you’ll know you were right, but this is really is an excellent submission for husband of the year. I would like to point out, though, that you are welcome to make as many entries as you’d like before the panel comes to a consensus, you know.” 
He smiles so wide that his eyes get lost in their beautifully crinkled edges. “I’ll keep it in mind. Now, they do say that you should play toward the judge’s preferences. Would you happen to know any? To help me get that inside edge.”
“Now, now. I can’t help you cheat. You’ll have to conduct your own research.”
“Is that so?”
“Absolutely. We have a strict moral code. They’d ruin me if I let that sort of intel slip.” You tilt your chin up in defiance despite your smirk and laughing eyes.
“Hmm. We can’t have that, can we? Shame. I really thought this was going to be my year.”
“Do you really think the only way you’d win is to cheat? Come now...it can still be your year if you play your cards right.”
Your hand drifts up to his carelessly perfect hair, fingers gliding through it and tugging a bit near his scalp. One of his favorite ways to receive affection you’ve found out this past year. His lids fall heavy before he can catch them, a small hiss catching behind his teeth that means you’ve done it right.
“Careful. You don’t know what you might be starting.” His eyes wander the edges of your lips, trace the frame of your collarbone.
“I’d never take the risk if I wasn’t ready to face the consequences.” The twist of your lips is subtle, as gentle as the seduction you’ve learned is your forte. 
Namjoon licks his lips, the lower one snagging in his teeth as his eyes drift over you. Without breaking his gaze, he takes a champagne grape from the board and lifts it to your lips. You can feel your pulse flutter and quicken beneath your skin. It always does when he eyes you like that.
The man might as well be a snake charmer for all the control you feel like you have over yourself right now as your mouth parts of its own accord for him. But just before the fruit can graze your lips, his grin widens- wicked with delight- as he decides to pop it in his own mouth instead.
His dimples are so deep as he laughs at your flustered state that you wish you could crawl inside them and hide.
“Ha Ha. Very funny, Joon. Tease the woman you claim to love. Excellent way to keep a happy wife.” 
Rolling your eyes, you push off from the table, fully intent on doing... you have no idea what, exactly. All you know is that you need to get away from this table as fast as you can before you knock the carefully preserved remnants of this charcuterie board to the floor and take him on the table.
 The blush that was rushing to your cheeks is now crashing in your ears and all you can think to do is “go,” but before you can get even half a step too far, Namjoon’s warm, impossibly large hand is already wrapping itself around your wrist and grounding you to your spot.
“All I want is a happy wife,” he laughs. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I thought I made that pretty clear from the first day.”
Slowly, he stands as his hand trails its way down to dance across your palm before lacing your fingers with his. 
“Certainly doesn’t feel like it right now,” you pout, despite the excitement thrumming in your veins. You know that look on his face now. The one that’s evil and beautiful, sincere and serpentine. The one that wants to devour you playfully. To love you even as he ruins you.
“Oh no,” he tsks. “That won’t do.” 
Suddenly, he snaps you to him, his hands fastening themselves to the dip in your waist. You gasp, the force making you brace against his smooth, exposed chest to catch yourself.
“It won’t?” Your voice comes out airy, too thin, as the morning breeze billows through the open windows. 
“No. Not at all. So I wanna know: how can I fix this, baby?” His eyes are possessed by something wicked as one hand leaves your waist to trace a thumb over your parted mouth.
“I- I”
“Shh, I made this mistake. I’ll make it right.” He arches a single brow as his tongue wets his lips, and your brain loses any grip on rational thinking.
“And h-how do you plan to do that?” It’s a whisper- too breathy, too barely coherent. His hands are so warm. His touch is like lightning and suddenly even breathing requires too much energy with the way you feel like you’ve shorted out.
“I don’t know. You tell me, baby.” His knuckle tips it’s way under your chin, tilting your face up to his as you follow in obedience.
“But… I thought… I told you. The judge can’t help.” You swallow, lashes fluttering shut as his breath ghosts over your lips.
“Then she can’t get what she wants,” he challenges.
“Fair enough. That’s fair.” Your head bobbles in assent. 
“So I’ll try this again,” his face dips down until his mouth rests just below your ear. “What do you want, baby?”
You feel lightheaded as you melt in hands, rushing out the words, “Counter. Now. Please.”
 Your expression folds in on itself in satisfaction when Namjoon grips you around the waist and plants you on the kitchen island without a moment's hesitation. You gasp, airy and quick, before his palm is fitted against the curve of your throat with just the amount of pressure he’s learned that you like.
“Good girl. Open your legs for me, baby.”
A muffled inhale later, your knees have parted where you’re sat on the island and Namjoon is fitted between them, his hips to the counter as he kisses you in earnest. 
“Oh my god,” you gasp as his tongue and open mouth work their way down your throat, painting wide open blossoms of scarlet and blush along the way. Your hands are in his hair, at his scalp, tugging and grabbing to bring him back to your kiss. His taste is tinged salty and sweet from your skin and the grapes, and your thighs wrap themselves tight around the narrow slope of him.
He’s gotten so broad since the wedding day. If you had trouble composing yourself around him then god only knows how you’ve survived the past year. His shoulders seem wider, his arms more substantial, his chest impossibly inviting as you claw at the last remaining buttons of his dress shirt. 
“Off. Off. Take this off.” You push at the sleeves that bunch around the arcs of his newly swollen biceps, taking a moment to drink in how beautiful they are as you clutch at his golden skin. 
“So eager now. What happened to my shy girl?” His voice is teasing, light, but his eyes look proud of you.
“You did things like this to her, and now she can’t get enough.” Your mouth fits itself to the beautiful stretch of bare skin beneath his ear, suckling the indescribable taste of him before traveling down his throat and across his jaw.
He laughs, something deep and melodic, before his fingers begin to glide over your collarbone and dance over your arms, featherlight, like he always does when he’s trying to rile you up.
“Should I get this out of our way then?” His fingers tug at the slim straps of your champagne blush dress. You’d worn it especially for him at last night’s party. You’d never forgotten his affinity for your skin draped in silk.
“Why? Don’t you like it?”
“Of course I do, baby. It’s perfect.”
“Then why do you want me to take it off?”
 Your voice is sticky sweet with innocence, but Namjoon knows better. He doesn’t know where you got the wherewithal to tease him right now as he holds you pressed against his growing warmth, but when your eyes flick to his, he knows you’ve made the right choice. He likes it when you challenge him. It makes it more fun when he wins.
“So I can do this,” he grins with a flash of his teeth.
Without missing a beat, he’s slipped both straps clean off your shoulders, leaving the dress to pool around your hips, and scoops one of your soft breasts gently into his mouth. Your breath comes sharp, a stuttered, inhaled moan that tastes as sweet to him as the ripened figs on the tray. Deliciously priceless. 
He still can’t get over you. He doesn’t think he ever could. He’s never reached a point where the sounds you make fail to set his world ablaze. He’d like nothing more than to make drawing them out of you every morning just like this his sole profession.
Reverently, his other hand brushes up your side to cradle your other breast beside it. God, they’re so soft. Namjoon is almost ashamed to admit how infatuated he is with your breasts.  It would be embarrassing if you weren’t equally in love with receiving all the attention he gives them.
What can he say? He’s a simple man. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to him and for him? They’re perfect. Even with all the exploration the two of you have shared this past year, he knows this part of your body has got to be his favorite- your skin there is so velvet smooth and supple, so delicately sensitive, so perfectly sized for him to devour to his heart's content.
As his tongue warms the tender skin of your nipple with affection, and his thumb steadily plays with the other, he feels the muscled grip of your thighs tighten against him. The sounds you make for him as you clutch at the edge of the granite might as well be a symphony. He loves you like this. Wild and coming undone at his touch and attention. No one in the world but you and him.
“J-joon, baby.. I-“
Looking up at you through heavy eyes, entirely impressed with himself, he smiles and flicks his tongue against you again. When the jolt makes you jump, he stands to his full height above you, and sets his hands back on your sides.
“What is it, baby? You have to tell me.”
Your brows crumple in softly as you look up at him through your lashes. If you could speak, you would, but the way he plays you like an instrument with no effort at all always seems to dispose of your grace.
“But Namjoon…”  you’re trying and failing to catch your breath as both his thumbs come to lazily torment the soft swells of your chest. 
“You know what you like. You know what you want. Just tell me.”
You’ve barely got enough breath to function as it is, let alone to form a sentence. “But baby, I can’t…”
“Then I’m afraid you can’t have it.” He tuts. “Not if you can’t ask.” 
His grin is wicked, and as much you want to drown in it, something in you wants to wipe it off his pretty face.
“Not… fair…”
He runs his tongue over his teeth as he smiles.
“Really? Because to me, what’s not fair,” he grips your hips, snatching you forward that last little inch to sit snug against his hips, “is me giving you a prize you haven’t earned.”
His hands dip to cup the curve of your backside,
his fingers digging deep into the silk and softness he finds there as he continues.
“ What’s not fair is the way you teased me in this little dress last night when you knew there would be too many people around for me to enjoy it properly…”
Dipping down, his sumptuous lips brush your ear as he whispers, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What seeing you in this dress all night did to me?”  
As yet another lightheaded gasp leaves your lips, a dark, satisfied chuckle leaves his. 
“H-how would I know?” your air comes in shaky as he has his way with you
“You know, baby girl. You always know.”
 As his fingers dip firmly into the globes of your backside, he begins gently, just barely, rocking against you. No hurry. No fuss. Just maddening, slow pressure as he grazes you. When an airy moan comes whimpering from your lips, his strong hands tense, keeping your hips too fixed to succumb to moving with him.
“But you didn’t... say anything.”
Your eyes flutter closed as his face lowers toward yours. You can feel the brush of his lips ghosting over the edges of your cheek, his nose tracing against your skin.
“Don’t act like you couldn’t tell. You know silk always does me in.”
His fingers slip across your stomach where your dress has pooled to rest. They ghost like a whisper over your hips and down your legs until they reach the hem of your skirt. He fits his hands against your skin and drags them up achingly slowly, willing his touch to memorize the feel of your skin along the way as he pushes the fabric up inch by merciless inch- all while never stopping the insatiable way his lips move warm against yours.
His touch and his kiss are languid, unhurried, as he sets you on fire. When he reaches your thighs, his palms splay across them, his thumbs dragging along the inner swell of your legs as your vision begins to blur. 
He’s taking his time. He’s teasing you and enjoying it. It’s evident in the way he slows down the higher he gets. The way his mouth begins to travel down your throat in kisses so soft, so divinely sweet, that you swear you’re growing lightheaded from the swelling rush of pleasure.
His thumbs have made their way to the folds of your hips, his hands hidden beneath the fabric as your body lights up electric at his touch. Like if it shines bright enough for him, he might bless it with all that you know he is capable of. But even though he knows you’re more than willing, your tease doesnt satiate your body or her cravings for him just yet.
Instead, he slows down further. He fits his hands on the outer edges of your hip while his kisses turn gentle, calming, resolving, as if he has no intention of following through further after riling you up like this.
“What are you— why are you stopping?” Your eyes flit between his, a subtle , whining irritation building up beside your impatience when he doesn’t move. He’s quiet at first, in no rush to answer. As his beautiful face hovers over you, he's so smug you almost want to slap him for toying with you like this. 
But that won’t get you what you want. What you need. So Instead, you take one of his hands and press it to your breast as you guide the other toward the center of you.
He plays along at first, until his fingers are about to brush the part of you that’s positively tingling for his touch, and he abruptly pulls back, resting both of his hands on the countertop on either side of you.
“Ah, ah. That’s for when you use your words, my sweet.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, and suddenly, you’ve never been more greedy or more furious. 
Snatching at his waistband, you pull his hips forward and slip your hand over the linen to hold him. His breath catches at the back of his throat, and his eyes go wide, dumbfounded at the shift in power.
“And I said, the judge can’t tell you the answers.”
You level him with a look of quiet confidence as your fingers slip between his skin and the linen to hold him where he wants you most. His brows tip into softened u’s as the coolness of your touch brushes against him.
“Husband of the year should know what I want by now. I shouldn't have to tell him.”
You grasp him, fingers running delicately up the underside of him at the same time that you lick into his mouth. You feel him dip a bit as his knees buckle, making his hands on the counter the only thing holding him up.
“Mother of god,” he mumbles, even as his hips move in compliance with your touch. “Where did you learn that?”
“From the best,” you beam. Your smile is genuine, sweet and blindingly bright. It makes him want to take a bite out of the apples of your cheek, so he does. A playful nip that has you giggling and him pressing his lips together in fondness. 
The moment is sweet, until you catch his eyes with that same saccharine smile on your face, and take your hand away. His mouth opens, about to protest, until he watches you run your tongue in a long, slow stripe up your fingers before reaching back down behind his waistband to run the wet digits over his heated skin as you grasp him.
“Oh my… fuuuuck,” he exhales, his weight dropping to press into the counter. His face dips to lean against yours as he struggles to stay lucid. This feels so good, so out of nowhere, that his body is bursting to life more rapidly that he can keep up with. 
With every movement you make, he moves with you, gasping through his open mouth with every touch as he tries to keep his composure. Leaning into your forehead, he feels his nose bumping against yours as he searches for air. He feels nearly lightheaded but god, you’re incredible. Your touch feels so good- he never wants you to stop. 
Still, he wants control back though. To make you as much of a mewling mess as you’re currently making of him. He was enjoying the game you were both playing before, but he likes the feeling of winning more. However, just when he thinks he’s got a way to get the upper hand back, you ever so lightly twist your grip as you pump him, and suddenly, he can’t tell if he’s dying, ascending or blacking out. 
It feels so good so fast that he can barely remember his own name, let alone stage a coup. Your fingertips gently play with the tip of him at the top of each swell in your fluid flourish, and suddenly he can’t think of anything else to do with all this bursting excess inside of him but to kiss you. So he does. Open mouthed. Sloppy. Full of want. It feels so incredible that you can’t help but laugh brightly into his mouth, ethereally elegant, even as you wreck him. 
As you work, he can feel the way he’s growing harder with your attention, the way his blood feels like it’s singing the longer you touch him. His hips are obeying you like they belong to you, and at this point, he’s pretty sure they do. His mouth is painting your throat, adding swathes of crimson to the blooms he made before until your neck is colored with an entire bouquet of his affection. 
When he closes his eyes, the light behind them sparkles with effervescence as he listens to the quickness of your breath as you work. The sounds, the moans, the gasps you make as you touch him mingle with sounds of early morning nature and Namjoon wonders if this was what the poets meant when they described paradise. 
Pleasure is cresting over him in warm, molten waves now, and as it builds, he realizes he was wrong.
That as much as he loves your luminous eyes, your serene smile, the softness of your breasts, that those aren’t truly his favorite part of you if he’s honest. At least not right now. Not in moments like these. Because right now, with your hand wrapped around him, wrecking him with craving, that title is held by the treasure between your thighs; and as the blood rushes away from the rest of his body and swells where your hand lies, all he can think of, all he wants, is to bury himself in the wet, velvet warmth of you and never leave.
If he doesn’t get you naked with him inside you within the next three seconds, he thinks he might die.
So he does something about it.
“Open, baby. Open your legs for me,” he demands. It’s firm, commanding, but his eyes are so full of needy want that it’s hard to say who’s really in charge right now. 
Pushing your hand away and placing it on his chest, Namjoon kicks down his linen trousers and slides up your dress as you obey. He springs out, the length of him pressing into the meat of your thigh. It has you whimpering before you can catch yourself.
“God, I knew you were a smart boy. You’d figure it out eventually,” your voice is teasing, but your face is so dizzy, so desperate for him, that he could give you the whole world if you asked.
“You ready for me, baby?” His eyes are half blown with lust, his lashes hanging heavy as he runs his fingers over your opening, before collapsing against your shoulder. “ Oh my god.”
“What is it, Joon?”
“Nothing. I just,” he chuckles once, “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how wet you get for me.”
With no hesitation, he slips two fingers inside you as your belly contracts. Gasping his name, you can’t help but cling to him as light shoots through your body at the incredibly welcome feeling of his hands there.
“Nam- Namjoon, ah!” Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you can feel your nails dig into his sturdy flesh as he begins rocking you with a motion so good, so fluid you fear you may simply float away and never touch the ground again.
“Yes, baby? What is it?” 
“You. I want you. Please.”
“You have me, baby.” His teeth are gritted in focus as he works you, his brow dipped low as he watches how easily you come undone with his attention. Warmth gushes over his fingers as he feels your walls contract in tandem with the tug of your hands in his hair. The sting is sharp and sublime as you grasp him tight with every part of you.
“Inside. Come inside. Need you. Now,” you plead. Your other hand trickles down his torso to the soft hair above his member before holding him firmly with a twist of your hand. He moans, hips canting into your delicate palm.
Namjoon doesn’t need to be told twice. Slipping his fingers out of the way, he scoops you safely to the edge of the island, one large hand stroking himself and guiding him to line up with your eager entrance.
The essence of you coats the tip of him without any effort, your body unfolding, so relaxed for him, as he easily begins to slip inside you. It’s so abundant that the slide is effortless, helping him bottom out almost immediately within you. Your head falls back in wonder as he does, your hands quickly planting against the cold counter to catch you. 
Wow. God, Namjoon’s body always has a tendency to overwhelm you, no matter how many times you get caught up in each other like this. You still can’t get over that. Honestly, it would be impossible to when he’s built like he is. 
He’s broad everywhere- that’s obvious to anyone. But here, he’s long and thick, with thighs like tree trunks powering each movement as he glides inside you. Any other time, you might have needed his help to adjust, for him to take his time to warm you up, but this morning? Your body is ready for him, and he knows it. 
It’s unfolding itself for him like a bloom to the sun, and he’s reverent enough to return its worship. You’re so wet that he can feel it trickling down his hip as he pistons into you, and he regrets not dipping down to sample a taste of it before coming inside. But now that he’s here, there’s absolutely no way he’s leaving the warmth of your walls until you're both falling over and spent.
Your ankles are crossed behind him, pulling him as close as you can get him, and his face is pressed against your neck and collarbone as both your hips work in dizzy tandem. The sensation of it sends his consciousness swirling as the pressure in his abdomen builds.
He’s convinced now that you’re a real, actual goddess. There’s no way you could make him feel this divine if you weren’t. Your ambrosia coats his thickness, spilling over him as he thrusts harder, deeper, tilting his hips to curve against that spot inside you that—
“Oh! God! Joon,” you yelp. “Yes, don’t stop.”
His grin is infectious. You can feel it against your skin as you pull him tighter, rocking in time with him as your euphoria builds. Your laugh is bright, sparkling as he licks his fingers and slips them swirling over the sensitive burst between your legs. Your breath catches, his name and profanity tumbling from your lips in equal measure.
You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. Your senses are on overload, your vision darkening around the edges as the pleasure he paints across your body escalates rapidly. Somewhere far off, you can hear his voice. His mouth is near your ear, his breath cooling your skin that’s become sticky with sweat, but you can’t understand, can’t wrap your brain around what he’s saying…
Until you realize that even fully coherent, you’d still be lost because your forever intoxicating husband has slipped back into his native tongue. You love it when this happens. With his senses so thoroughly drowning in you,  translating language just becomes too hard a thing to manage, so the harder and deeper he goes, the lower the bass in his voice becomes as he mumbles in korean against your ear.
You’ve learned enough to catch words like “beautiful” “perfect” and “God, I love you,” but the rest remain a mystery as he captures the innermost parts of your body for himself with swift, perfect strokes of his hips. The depth he’s reaching right now has you in raptures. It has your breath coming in short gasps as your breasts bounce buoyantly with each...incredible… thrust he delivers.
You won’t last much longer. You know it. And All you can think right now is how badly you want to look in his eyes when you come- which you know will happen any second now.
  Between his touch, his voice, the indescribable way he moves his hips when he’s inside you, and the crescendo you feel from the spot he’s internally caressing right now, you know you’re only moments away from dissolving into the atmosphere, yet all you want is more of him.
“Joon, baby, I’m so close. Look at me. Please,” you move one of the hands supporting you to hold his face and bring it to yours.
God, that please of yours. It flows so naturally from your lips when he has his way with you. He doesn’t know how to describe what it unleashes in him, but he knows it never fails to wreck him. “Shh, let go, baby girl. I’m right here. I got you.” 
Before he can think, he’s kissing you deeply, his tongue insatiable as he tastes you. He alternates between kissing you and pulling back to catch your eyes. The depth of affection in his gaze warms you brilliantly from the inside even as you swear you can practically feel his thrust against the underside of your lungs. 
His once seamless rhythm has become all feel and nuance. All order is long lost as he makes his last powerful dives into the depths of you. You can feel it- the tightness in his body, the firm set in his jaw, the profound depth of his voice as he praises your body in Korean. If you were to die like this, caught up in Namjoon’s impeccably loving, gracious body, you wouldn’t have a single regret.
There’s nothing more you could ask for. 
The glittering sensation pulsing through your body let’s you know it’s almost time to surrender, and you’re ready to come undone. Surely, there could be nothing more blissful than this— until Namjoon takes the hand he’s kept gripped around your waist and slips it up to your throat.
Your eyes go wide. 
He really was paying attention. Husband of the year, indeed. 
And just like that, the express trip to ecstasy nearly slams into your body. His eyes are locked on yours. He’s muttering a soft “good girl” and “that’s it, baby” as he works his powerful hips into you. He has one hand clamped firm and perfect below your jaw along your throat, and the other dancing elegantly along the bundle of nerves between your legs. He takes those fingers into his mouth to wet them, his face crumpling in a satisfied moan at the taste of you on his skin, before slipping them back where they belong. 
It’s altogether too much and you are lit up sparkling as the combined sensation of it all builds with the warmth of his body against you, within you. 
“Come for me, baby,” he says it clear and firm, his touch generous to help ease you over the edge. 
“Only if you come with me,” you breathe. Your eyes meet his as you try to find something to hold on to as the tension in you crests. 
He smiles then. All dimples and sweet eyes and perfect lips. He places a sweet kiss on your cheek beside your lips, and that’s all it takes to ruin you.
You feel your body contract around him in bliss as his name spills from your mouth. Making love to Namjoon has never felt commonplace, but there’s something about today. About him. About the sweetness of this morning in the middle of your perfect hidden home with him that makes you burst not only with pleasure, but with love. 
As your orgasm washes over you, you feel illuminated from within like the sun is glowing out of your skin as your body melts against him.
“I love you,” you whisper. “You’re so perfect.”
As your body floats back down from wherever you just astral projected from bliss, you can feel that his body is just a breath away from tipping over the edge itself. He’s pulling back, pulling out, intending to spill himself elsewhere, but in that instant, you realize you don’t want that.
Your memory flashes back to your wedding day. To the moment those hideous people decided to squawk about your child-rearing, heir-producing duty just hours after your vows, and Namjoon had cut them off immediately at the jump and whispered,” don’t pay them any mind. That happens when you’re ready. Not a second before,” soft against your ear. 
It was one of the first instances that made you realize what a good man he was. How willing he was to put your readiness, your comfort, before anyone or anything else. And now, as you take him in, as you remember how truly and deeply you love him, you realize you’re ready for there to be more.
You’ve had countless discussions with him about starting a family, and everytime, without missing a beat, his answer has always been, “whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.” 
You've come to learn over this past year that he’s wanted nothing more than to become a dad since he was a small boy.
You’ve gotten to witness how fun, gentle and gracious he is with his nephews. With Jimin’s daughter, his sweet godchild. For a year, you’ve watched him be good and kind to any child he meets, patient with you, subdued as he hides the depth of his desire to be a father behind his dimpled smiles and suave redirection when you bring it up. 
He’s been willing to wait for you. He never pushes. He never demands. And in this moment, as you study the face of the incredible man who’s welcomed you into his heart and his home, all you want is to begin the journey to give him what you know he will never ask for, even though it’s what the secret parts of his heart want the most. 
“Namjoon,” you whisper,” don’t. It’s okay. You can finish inside me.” You caress his face lovingly as his eyes go wide. 
“Really? But baby… I… what…” Your eternally eloquent man has gone slack jawed in his loss for words as his hips begin to still.
“It’s okay,” you nod. “I want you to. I want to feel you.” You kiss the dip of his dimple.
“Are you sure? i-“ he stumbles before you lovingly cut him off.
“I think it’s about time we start trying for our family, don’t you?” You whisper. Your fingers thread through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes as his face beams with light. His shoulders and chest are shaking with laughter as his eyes flit between yours and he smiles.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” His hands slip up to cradle your face, the most beautiful mixture of excitement and relief and the purest joy making his misty eyes look brilliant in the early light.
“Absolutely,” your voice is soft as you tip your nose against his. Your smile is all pearls and laughter as you reach to grab the full apples of his ass and push him into you.
He’s laughing and smiling and gasping when you do, before happily resuming the final few thrusts he would need to send himself over the edge.
“Use me, baby,” you whisper, eyes alight with the gentle seduction that always ruins him. “I want to feel you when you finish.”
Biting his lip, he swallows and nods, almost too eager, but you’re beautiful and warm and you’ve gotten so tight around him and he can’t help himself. He’s close. He’s already soo close. He’s spent nearly this whole morning trying to contain himself inside you despite the absolutely mind numbing feel of you, and here you are telling him to let go? It’s impossible that you’re real.
Pulling his face to you, he realizes you’re kissing him. Your honey sweet tongue has made a home in his mouth. Your soft breasts brush his chest with every thrust. Your hands are clutching his back and in his hair. Your heels pressed into the back of his legs to pull him close, and now he knows you want to carry his baby.
To allow your body to grow and change just to hold his seed, start his family and realize his dream of not only being a husband to you but a dad to your babies. He’s so in love with you. So maddeningly, ridiculously, stupidly, over the moon in love with you, and all at once, it’s happening.
His release is coming, strong and quick, and he can finally drown in the feeling of it happening while you surround him. His body is reeling at the burst of perfection he feels from losing himself in you like this. The cloud like swells of your thighs pressing around him might very well be the only thing holding him up.
“Oh my god. Oh my god, I love you.” His face is buried in your neck, your chest, your hair, your cheeks- everything all at once- his full lips dropping kisses on your skin like stars falling from heaven. 
When he pulls back to look at you, he can’t even put what he’s feeling into words. But it’s okay. Because you know. He can see it in your eyes.
Cradling his face, you smile up at him, eyes glossy and happy. “You ready?” 
“To have a baby with you?” His voice falters as his smile grows so wide his eyes nearly disappear. “There isn’t anything I want more.”
Pressing his forehead to yours as he hugs your waist, you both press your noses together and laugh. Overcome with something almost too sweet to simply be called happiness. The word seems too small to encompass it all.
“Maybe I’m not husband of the year yet, cause I definitely didn’t see that coming.” He chuckles.
“Oh shut up. I know you felt how you made me finish. You’re just showing off at this point.”
“I can’t have my baby girl leave anyway but satisfied with me.” He winks, and you smack his chest lightly.
“I’d be mad at you for being so smug if you weren’t actually as great as you think you are,” you scrunch your nose at him as he laughs.
“Well, if there are any areas of improvement I can work on, let me know. I hear I'm about to have a lot of time to workshop your suggestions.” Namjoon lovingly nips at your collarbone, and you tingle in bliss at the thought of how many more moments like this lie in your near future.
“Duly noted. On that note then, I feel compelled to point out that what you just did counted as an excellent submission for husband of the year.”
“Oh really?” He licks his lips slowly as you nod.
“Remember- you can make as many entries as you want.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah. Limitless,” you assent. 
“Good to know. I’ll keep it mind,” he smirks, dipping down to lift the fullness of one of your breasts into his hand as he gently kisses the top of the swell of flesh. You sigh into his kiss. This is going to be a spectacular journey— you can already tell.
“Namjoon.”
“Hmm?” His eyes perk up, though his mouth never leaves its preoccupation with your bare chest.
“Is this… is this okay? I hope I didn’t spring this on you too soon or… I don’t know...too out of the blue? Because your comfort is important too, and I—“
You’re swiftly cut off by the sweet press of Namjoon’s delicious lips against yours. “Shh. Yes, I want this. More than anything.”
“So my timing wasn’t—“
“No. It was perfect. You’re perfect,” he kisses the tip of your nose as your lips bloom into a smile. “And if we are going to try to fill that cute belly of yours with a baby, then maybe… maybe this shouldn’t just be a weekend visit.”
Tipping your head to look at him, you feel your brows scrunch. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, this has always been our getaway spot. A place to stay safe and lie low when things get jumpy in the city. A place to take you when we want to be alone. Truly be alone. But if…” he hesitates, lacing your hand with his and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “If you’re going to be carrying my baby, I want to keep you safe. I promised you that the day I met you- I’d never let anything happen to you. It’s been risky enough to have you in the city all this time as it is.”
“So...what exactly are you suggesting, love?” You run your thumb lovingly over his knuckles.
“I’m proposing if you do get pregnant, we move you out here. Permanently. Or at least somewhat long term.”
“Wait…” you pull away, eyes clouding as you do. “Alone? Without you?”
“No. No. I didn’t word that right. I’d be here as much as i can, and I’d send the security detail to stay out here whenever I have to leave so—“
“Namjoon, I don’t want to be all the way out here by myself. Surely, that’s not necessary.”
He frowns as he tries to gather his thoughts. “This is coming out wrong...You wouldn’t be fully by yourself. I’d be here as much as I can. I just... want you protected. Safe. And out of the city while you're carrying something so precious.” The backs of his knuckles graze your stomach. 
“But I don’t understand. Why—“
“I don’t want anyone to hurt you.” His voice has turned solemn, his eyes an odd shade of vulnerability when they meet yours. 
“Joon, nobody’s gonna do anything. You’ve made that city so secure-nobody could hurt me even if they tried.”
Something stormy and troubled clouds his eyes.It makes you wonder if there are things he hasn’t told you. Things he’s kept to himself to ensure that your life is as peaceful as possible. You wonder what kind of darkness he’s had to swallow for your sake. 
“But they have tried.”
It's news to you. 
“What do you mean… when?” 
“It’s happened a few times. Nothing ever got far enough to warrant bringing it up.”
“What on earth? Joon, why in the world wouldn’t you tell me that?” 
He sighs once, from some deep place in his bones. “Because i never wanted to have to see the look in your eyes that I do right now.”
Suddenly, any anger you held vanishes all at once. 
“Baby, why are you carrying something like that all by yourself?”
“So you don’t have to. I promised I’d keep you safe, and I meant it. That includes taking care of your peace of mind. Something you won’t have if you knew how many times someone’s shot off at the mouth about coming for you because they’re irate at me or how many times someone has done more than just talked and actually tried.”
It’s a sobering thought.
“Is that… is that the real reason why you never pushed for an heir?” For reasons you can’t explain, the idea makes you want to cry. Namjoon sees the shift immediately, his fingers ready to brush your tears before they even fall.
“Shhh, hey. No. I mean, it’s part of it. You know all I’ve ever wanted was to be a parent. When I married you, please know the idea of you being the mother of my children sent me over the moon, but I know this world. How people take what they want. Do what they want. I wanted better for you.” He runs his fingers soft over your cheek like you’re some spun glass artifact he needs to protect. 
“I wanted to be better for you than the men in this world were going to give you. I promised myself that I was never going to demand anything from you. That’s why I didn’t push for an heir. I meant it when I said we go at your pace. Always.”
Sniffling, you look up at him through wet lashes. 
“Joon, protecting me doesn’t mean you hide the truth from me.”
“Not even if it would hurt you? Scare you?”
“I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to marry you. It’s so kind of you to try to take these burdens so I don’t have to, but then who carries them for you? That’s my job. You have to let me do it.”
Closing his eyes, he exhales long and slow through his nose. 
“You really mean it, don’t you? You really want to know.”
“Yes,” you nod, caressing his face. He looks troubled. You’d give anything to help take some of his cares away.
“Then you should know why we came to the villa this weekend.”
“So it wasn’t just for a getaway?” You brace yourself for whatever it is you’re about to hear.
“It is, and it isn’t. I guess I have to go back a bit for this to make any sense, but my family isn’t from here. You know that. Our roots don’t go back as many generations as yours do, so when the new kid on the block started gaining power in this city faster than anyone had seen before, there were a lot of families that weren’t happy about it.
Especially not when the daughter of one of the oldest families in the city became my bride. There had already been a lot of grumbling against me before I made such a powerful ally, and there were certainly plenty after. Anything we’d stumbled on over the last few months had been mostly hearsay, but…”
“What is it, Joon?” You're worried now. You can hear the way his voice sounds choked.
“There was a deal that went wrong a few weeks back. Just a skirmish with some lower level captains that got out of control, but I thought I’d put a pin in it. Turns out the other family involved hadn’t let it go like I thought …” he stops, eyes going cold as color drains from his face.
“Baby, it’s okay. You can tell me,” you reassure. 
Closing his eyes, he licks his lips and takes a deep breath, his voice lower, raspier when he continues. “There was a hit put out on you this past week.
You’re shocked. “There— what?”
”It’s okay now. Jungkook caught intel on it soon enough that he crushed it before the people responsible could hurt you, but I've never seen anyone get this close. Y/n, I couldn't breathe when he told me. When I found out, I nearly lost my mind. I called you immediately to make sure you were safe— I couldn’t breathe til I heard your voice.”
You had no idea he’d been through that. You can’t imagine what you would have done if the roles were reversed, if you’d been seconds away from losing him. It would’ve shattered you. You’re not sure how he’s still standing.
“Once I knew you were okay, the first thing I could think was that I needed to get you out of town as fast as I possibly could. Something’s building in that city, y/n. The lower families are tired of their rank. They’re itching to get back any sort of power they can- it’s making them reckless. There’s rumors of a war building…I’d dismissed it so far. Didn’t think they were a real threat until they had the nerve to try something like this. We squashed it, but this was too close, and I’m not willing to risk you.”
Realization dawns across your face. “That’s why we left with less than an hour's notice. I’d thought you were just being romantic about a weekend getaway but ...That’s why we came to this safe house and not the one on the edge of town, isn’t it?”
His eyes fall away as he nods, “That’s why our security detail was thicker than usual.”
“But I've hardly seen anyone.”
“That’s on purpose. I didn’t want to scare you.  Didn't want to draw attention to a whole parade leaving town so I had them follow us at a distance. They’re stationed all around the property and schooled to stay out of sight.”
“What about the boys? Was it safe to have them here this weekend with their wives? Their girlfriends? Didn’t we put them in danger?” Your rounded eyes betray the sudden guilt you feel for what you thought had been such a beautiful night.
“Shh, no. Hey, they’re fine. I had them all moved out to safe houses not too far from here with a security detail on them too. They’re just a few miles from here. That’s why I didn’t feel bad about them driving out last night- they didn’t have to go all the way back to the city, just to our guest houses and then their safe houses in the morning….I’m having them all lie low for a little while. Figured they’d want their girlfriends and wives as close to their side as I want mine. Thought having them over was a good distraction for a night.”
You had no idea. Something cold runs up your spine at the thought that this weekend, this beautifully perfect day could’ve been so different. Or perhaps not even happened at all. 
Slipping your dress back into place, you cover yourself. It feels wrong to have this conversation half naked. Namjoon seems to sense it too as he pulls his pants back on. He offers to help ease you down from the counter, picking you up and placing you gently on the whitewashed floorboards, making sure you’re steady before he lets you go. 
Under any other circumstances, you’d laugh at how he has to make you sure you’re stable enough not to keel over where you stand after blessing you with an orgasm so bright it makes your soul radiate around your body. Now though, you find your hand cradling your lower belly, feeling entirely naive for thinking now was the time to bless the world with Namjoon’s child. You should say something, but the words get stuck in your throat…. you feel like a fool.
“I’m gonna make us some coffee, yeah? You want a cup?” Namjoon offers softly. When you look up, he looks so worn out all of a sudden. Like he’s somehow aged years during the course of this conversation. Like he really does need a cup of coffee, if not something stronger.
“Sure, baby. I’ll take one.”
Nodding, he presses a kiss to your forehead before he plugs in the black gooseneck kettle you’d gotten him for his birthday. The gift had been simple, thoughtful, and if he was honest, it was the best present anyone had ever given him.
He practically survives on black coffee most days. At the beginning of your marriage, he was always long gone before you rose most mornings, so in an attempt to slow him down and have more time with him, you’d gotten him a pour over set and a gooseneck kettle to replace his old instant apparatus.
He wondered if you were aware of all the additional gifts it had given him along the way....It required time to steep and brew. Time he’d never given himself before he met you. The methodology of it soothed him, provided his mornings with a small structure and routine he’d never had in a lifestyle marked by so much chaos. 
Taking the time to make his absolutely necessary coffee this way helped wake him up gently, slowed him down enough for you to have the time to slip out of bed and catch him before he was gone, to hold him while he prepared it. To remind him of the precious reason he needed to be careful while he was out that day. 
As the water boils, he turns his back to you. He feels himself melt when your arms wind around him. Softly, you press a kiss between his shoulder blades before your touch slips away as quietly as it appeared. The subtle sounds of your footsteps fading as you walk away and the gentle buzzing of the kettle are all that fill the room in the silence between you.
Namjoon sighs as he turns, his arms crossed as he leans against the counter to watch you.  Without a word, you silently procure a hearty loaf of fresh,crusty bread from the pantry and begin to slice it for breakfast. As your head tips down in concentration, he watches your untamed hair fall in your eyes. It’s beautiful the way it frames your face. It makes something squeeze in the center of his chest.
Crossing the room, he comes to stand beside you, lightly brushing your hair back into place for you with his hand. You still in your task, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.
“Namjoon?”
“Yes, baby?” 
“If it’s this dangerous…” your voice is barely above a whisper, “this unsafe… does that mean we shouldn’t have a baby?” When you look up at him, your eyes are starlit with tears. Your hands are trembling, and he hates to see you so sad.
“No. You’re ready, and I want a family,”’he soothes.
“But… but if there’s this much risk, how can our child ever have a normal life? Won’t we always be afraid for them all the time? Is that selfish? To make a life that has to live in this world just because we want them to?”
He brushes his fingers over the cascade of teardrops starting to fall from your eyes. “All parents have to worry about that, y/n. This world is still a scary place even outside my line of work.”
“I know. But they don’t have to worry about a hit on their child’s life or a ransom or generation’s old grudges putting their child at risk....They just have to worry about whether or not a child in their daughter’s class has a peanut allergy because little ashley will only eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches right now and nothing else.”
You’re talking with your hands as Namjoon gives you a smile that’s equally warm and sad. “That’s a really specific scenario.”
“I went through a phase in first grade, okay?”
He finds your eyes until you laugh before pulling you in tight against his chest. “First of all, that’s adorable. We’ll address that again later because little y/n sounds incredibly cute. And secondly,” he sighs,” you grew up in this world- the same as me- and we both survived. Having a child is expected of us, yes, but if that’s not what you want... it doesn’t have to happen. But, if we both want one… if being a mom will make you happy, then I’m going to find a way to give you that.” There’s a heaviness about him right now. An authority resigned to accept whatever fate weighs on your heart the most as he watches your eyes fill with questions.
“But won’t we be afraid for them all the time? I feel so naive for only thinking of how much I’d like to meet them, how much I’d love them just because they’re a part of you, when I should have known better.”
“That’s not naive. That’s beautiful. No matter what they’re like, we’ll love them. Because they’re ours.”
“What if they don’t want any part of this world? They should have a choice… but can I even give them one or will their only option be serving as the new head of the Kim family one day?” Your face looks stricken. “Did you get to choose?” Your watery eyes flit up to his. 
He swallows, face stony as you survey him. “I did what I had to do so our life can look however we want it to,” he’s sighing again, worn out out by memories you may never see. “Look, you’re my wife, and I’m your husband. As far as I’m concerned, we’re the ones get to decide what’s right for us, y/n. I’ve told you that, and I meant it- that extends to our children too. Their lives don’t have to look like what anyone else wants but them. I don’t care if they want to be painters or accountants or captains in the family. They get to shape the life they want. That’s what I’ve worked so hard for.”
You feel your eyes flutter shut in relief on their own accord. Of course he’s already thought this through to this degree. When has your Namjoon ever done anything less? It soothes your mind to know he’s taken the time to lay the groundwork so you don’t have to. Still though, questions you’re ashamed didn't occur to you sooner rattle through your head and spill from your mouth.
“Do they have to spend their life in boarding school like I did? Are our only options to send them away or be scared for them every day?
“Y/n, no. We’ll find what works for our family. I want that with you- figuring that out and watching them grow. I’ll keep you both safe. However I have to. I promise you.” His thumb brushes over your ring as he holds your hand against his chest. “I promised you.”
And just like that, it hits you all over again- how much you love this man. How deeply you trust him with every fiber of your being. How you couldn’t have found a better man to love you if you’d tried. You two are it for each other- you’ve known it since the day you met him on the steps.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers, kissing your knuckles,”... but, y/n?”
Your eyes flit up to meet his. “Yes, love ?”
“I meant what I said. If this is all too much, if this scares you, we can wait.” His brown eyes are so deep and sincere. You know every part of him means it, and it’s precisely because of that, that you say the words you do.
“No. I want this. All of this. With you. We’ll figure this out,” you nod, gently pulling the back of his neck down so your foreheads are touching. “I want to have a baby with you. I’m all in, if you are.”
You can feel the rush of tension that leaves his body. He wraps you in his arms, so close and secure, and something innocent comes from him that you don’t think you’ve ever heard.
“God, you know I am. Thank you.”
His voice is as robust and full as always, but his eyes… there’s something so young and soft and terrified in them. Like the weight of all he’s been carrying alone has crashed down on him all at once. “I’m so excited to have a baby with you if it happens. And it’s okay if it doesn’t. But I can’t wait to try.”
You’re nodding and crying, and you realize something that perhaps has never dawned on you before. This is the first time you’ve seen him truly this vulnerable. He’s always so strong, so composed. Too busy holding up an entire empire and caring for you to let his walls fully fall. 
But as he buries his face in your neck, you suddenly feel dampness pooling against your skin and realize he’s crying. You wonder how you got here on a morning that had been so serene and full of bliss. Bliss you now realize has come at a price.
“I was so scared I'd lost you the day we came here.” Slipping your hand into his hair, the other soothes his back as he clings to you tighter. “I'm so glad you’re okay. You’re so smart. I know you are. You don’t make reckless mistakes when you’re out— you take good care of yourself— but I was so afraid. My heart dropped when Jungkook told me what he’d heard. He couldn’t calm me down until I heard your voice on the phone.”
Stroking his hair, you recall the phone call just a few days ago. How strangled and out of breath he’d sounded. How you’d asked if he was okay, and he’d simply said he was now.
“It’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay.” 
He takes a moment to collect himself, pressing you so close you may fuse together. It’s unguarded, and precious. Something you know both of you treasure as he nuzzles into your skin in that space along your neck where his face perfectly fits.
It’s as simple as that. You both stay like this for as long as you can, secure in his embrace, your breathing settling until it’s nearly in sync. It’s peaceful for you, cathartic for him. It’s a moment framed by a different kind of intimacy than the one you both shared in this very room less than an hour ago. 
He shows no sign of letting you go until the kettle begins to howl for him from across the room. When he does, his fingers trace the silk fabric along your waist as his lips kiss your forehead. He takes one more heavy breath before he squeezes you in release to tend to the coffee.
“Cream and sugar?” He asks, his voice thicker than usual.
“Always,” you answer.
And so the morning resets itself. 
The day shifts into afternoon. The sun drifting higher, brighter, casting the shadows and ridges of Namjoon’s sculpted body in almost Grecian relief as he carefully pours the water for both of you over the coffee grounds. You finish slicing the crackling bread loaf and bring it to the table to place it beside the remnants of Seokjin’s charcuterie board. 
It’s only when you catch sight of your lacy table cloth that you remember the accident that started the whole morning to begin with. You’d both gotten so preoccupied with each other that you never made it any further than cleaning his shirt and not the rest of the disaster.
Smiling to yourself, you gently slide the cloth off the table and fill the sink with cold water to soak it. Looking over at your husband, you realize wine stains still swirl over the front of Namjoon’s linen pants. There’s a very good chance those are fully set now, but just in case, you might as well try to fix them. 
So, gently, you hook a finger into his waistband and tug. “Let me have these.”
“Round two all ready? Greedy girl.” He winks, his voice soft as follows the drip of his Colombian roast.
“No, smart girl. We did a terrible job of getting you cleaned up.” You pop the p at the end of the word as you snap the elastic on his pants.
Looking a bit lost, Namjoon glances down to see the lovely pastel splashes of rosé running clean down the front of his pants. He’d been too busy to notice once you’d gotten him out of them. Blushing for no reason other than the embarrassment of you having to clean up his foibles, Namjoon dips down to remove the trousers, leaving himself looking statuesque and unreasonably gorgeous in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs in the afternoon light as he tends to the coffee.
You feel terribly immature over how quickly affected you are by the sight of him in his current predicament and carefully take the pants from him, only to turn abruptly in search of some fresh air and relief. Namjoon catches your equally flustered state, smiling to himself, but doesn’t acknowledge it out loud. This spell of quiet that’s settled over the room is too peaceful to break.
Once the coffee’s done, he brings both your cups to the broad heirloom table, and you enjoy breakfast… or, he supposes, brunch at this point...together in the stillness. Every bite you take is piled high with prosciutto and fig while Namjoon drizzles honey on his slices of bread. 
It’s peaceful, idyllic. Tranquil enough to forget the world that awaits him back in the city.
It’s funny, the duality of his life. How easy it becomes in moments like these to lean into the simplicity of breakfast with his lover and ignore the undulating danger and uncertainty awaiting him in the rest of his world. It makes him realize how much he’s come to covet exchanges like this when he gets to feel like you’re just two people in love and nothing else. 
As his eyes trace over you, he promises himself to do everything in his power to make sure your life with him is hallmarked by sweet pockets like these. As many of them as he can give you. 
At some point Namjoon pushes up to get the carafe of orange juice from the fridge, and after assigning your more capable hands the job of opening the champagne, you both polish off your brunch with the tinkling clink of your toasting mimosa glasses. 
Once your bellies are full and satiated, Namjoon looks up at you. His elbows are propped up on the table, chin contentedly resting in his hands. There’s a question hidden in the corner of his lips as his eyes glisten with mischief.
“So… what else do you have in mind for your agenda today, my bride?” He reaches across the table to grab your hand, kissing the back of your palm as you giggle and roll your eyes.
“Well if you must know... I'm thinking I might give my sister a call. See if she’d be willing to come pay me visit.” You offer, pushing one of the last grapes around the corner of the board, avoiding the way Namjoon’s eyes shine. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” you shrug nonchalantly. “Maybe she could come stay in one of the guest houses. Potentially. Once I move out here. Whenever that may be.” 
“So my baby won’t be alone when I’m gone?” His dimples are popping in his cheeks as his smile spreads wide. It’s a brilliant idea to bring her out here with you until Namjoon can finesse a way to be by your side 24/7. He wonders why he didn’t think of it sooner. Probably because you’re as smart as you are beautiful. 
“Neither of your babies.” You crinkle your nose as you smile back at him. 
“I like the sound of that,” he’s beaming back at you, happy and light. His eyes are misty with emotion he can’t hide, and it only makes you love him more.
“Me too.”
“So, how would you feel about getting to work as soon as possible then?” His eyebrows bounce salaciously your way, and you can’t help but giggle.
“Is that what you want?” 
“If it’s what you want. Always.” Namjoon licks his lips and a crackle of electricity shoots up your spine. The parallels to how this morning started are not lost on you. It makes something in you thrill with excitement.
“Well, I would love to take a bath. Our activity this morning was excellent, but I must say you left a bit of a sticky mess in your wake.” 
“Sorry,” Namjoon ducks his head bashfully.
“So I’m going to break in that beautiful clawfoot tub and fill it to the brim with matcha bubble bath.”
“Mmm. With the orange blossom bath salts too?”
“Always,” you wink as Namjoon bites his lip.
“God, you always smell so good when you use that. It makes your skin so soft.” The thought of your skin fragrant and bare has his blood stirring again as his eyes rake over you.
“Well you are welcome to keep me company and read to me while I soak,” you offer nonchalantly as you walk away. You can feel his eyes on your hips as you round the corner, quickly followed by the sound of his bare feet against the floorboards.
“Or I could join you in the water.”
When he responds, his voice is closer than you expected it to be. He’s caught up to you so quickly with those long legs of his.
“Or you could finish the chapter of the book you were reading to me on the way up. You left me on such a cliffhanger when your hands got distracted on the drive. I’m dying to know what happens next.”
Biting his lip, that wicked gleam is back in his eyes at the memory of the drive up and the things the two of you got up to in the privacy of the tinted, shielded back seat.
“Fair enough, but I get to join after.” His hand is forceful where it slips across your waist. You tumble into him, wanting nothing more than to let him win and start this game all over again, but you had a feeling you were winning this round, and you like to win.
“I can promise you no such thing. We’ll just have to see how the day goes,” you shrug, dismissing him completely to climb the stairs.
As much as he enjoys the view, Namjoon loves the play for dominance more: it’s cute on you. Too bad he’s still got the upper hand. He catches you on the stairwell, turning you around to face him. His hand ghosts down the front of your silk draped stomach directly to the dip between your legs.
 He places enough pressure to catch your sensitivity there, smiling something wicked at the sound of your sharp inhale. He already knows how delicate you are after you’ve already finished once until he warms your body up again. The prospect of starting this dance all over again has him stiffening with delight against your leg when he feels the familiar slip of your essence help the fabric glide beneath his touch.
“Oh baby girl, you have no idea how well this day is gonna go.” His voice has dipped to an octave reserved only for the devil as he smiles at you and lifts you off the stairs and into his arms.
You squeal at the suddenness of it, wrapping your arms securely around his neck so you don’t fall. He just chuckles, something throaty and dark, as he carries you up the stairs and down the hall to the sunlit bathroom. 
Setting you on the counter, he turns to start the bath- scooping in bath salts, pouring your bubbles, raising the blinds so the room is flooded with light. He doesn’t want to miss a single look on your beautiful face when he has his way with you for a second time today.
Not once has it occurred to you to move from the spot where he put you. Instead, you sit perfectly still on the bathroom counter, feeling your nails dig into your palms, your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you watch him. Your pulse is already thrumming with anticipation all over again. 
When he turns back to you, you can see clear evidence of his arousal reshaping itself beneath his black briefs, and suddenly, despite your meal, there’s something else entirely that you want in your mouth. He catches the hungry way your eyes follow him as he walks back to you.
“Can I help you, baby?” His laugh is warm, even if his eyes are sinister. It’s all you can do just to nod your head and slip your fingers forward to tug at his waistband. When it begins to fall, you slip down to the floor, catching him off guard entirely. Not in a million years did Namjoon didn't plan on this course of events, but he certainly isn't unhappy about it. 
Namjoon leans back against the counter in the spot you’d just been sitting in as your hands grasp onto the muscular ridges of his toned legs. You set to work kissing his golden skin on his thighs slowly, indulgently, enjoying yourself as you go. 
You’ve always been weak in the knees for his absurdly gorgeous legs. They’ve only gotten more toned in the last year just like the rest of him, and between his dimples, his arms, his chest, and his legs, it’s hard to know where to begin. Or it would be if there wasn’t something hard and beautiful staring you in the face.
Namjoon is in heaven watching this unfold from above. When you slip him into your mouth, he feels all his rational thought go dark. He’s helpless to do anything but cave in. God, the two of you are like rabbits, but honestly, how can you not be when you make him feel like this? He begins to lose himself in the soft rhythm you create, something lazy and hypnotic, that makes him feel weightless.
He can barely hold himself, but every second is worth it. All he can do is luxuriate in the way you take your time as you bless him. At least, that’s how he always thinks of it because it’s truly nothing short of divine. 
He can’t tell if it’s been a few minutes or an eternity when all of a sudden, you’re abruptly letting him slip from your mouth with a pop and a sultry smile. The cool air rushing against him nearly startles him in the wake of the warmth he’d been cocooned in while your tongue did its incredible work. Because just as quickly as you started, you’re gone. 
He realizes then that the floor is wet. Apparently, You’d both gotten so lost in each other that the water in the tub had spilled over its edges and he hadn’t even noticed. Also, at some point during all this, you must have slipped out of your dress, because you’re lowering yourself into the water now as bare as you were on your wedding night.
Namjoon swallows. His body is ramping with endorphins, and he’s so worked up it nearly hurts. As he makes his way to the tub, you stop him with a dainty hand against his lower stomach.
“Ah, ah. I asked you to read to me.” 
Your eyes are coquettishly round as you bat them up at him. He’s tempted to scoff.
“Are you serious right now? Aren’t we in the middle of something?” His face is serious, focused as he eyes your breasts floating in the water amidst the matcha- scented bubbles.
You push back against his stomach again. “Yes, we were… in the middle of that last chapter. Book. Please.”
There it is again. The “please” he’s always been so enamored by. The “please” that’s usually the product of your need for him. The one he’s so infatuated with that he’d do anything to satisfy it. The one that, up until now, he’d thought you were unaware of, yet here you are using it against him.
That’s when he knows he’s trained you too well. There’s pride sparkling in your eyes as you look up at him, and he can’t believe it. Running a hand down his face, he shakes his head at you. What has he gotten himself into with you?
“ If that’s the way you want to play it, fine,” he squints at you with playful derision. “But I’m reading to you in the tub with you when I come back.”
“Oh please do,” you coo, batting your lashes at him.
Oh, you’re good. 
Namjoon can’t help but laugh at himself as he walks to the bedroom to collect the book. When he met you a year ago- the blushing, soft spoken girl who was too nervous to meet his eyes- he definitely never would have thought that a year later you’d be sending him down the hallway fully naked and half hard to fetch your literature for you while you float in a bath. He wonders when he got so wrapped around your finger like this, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t mind.
You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
 Being with you is the best his life has ever been. He’ll forever be grateful, that against all odds, you agreed to marry a man who was nearly a perfect stranger and create a life with him.
As he walks back to the bathroom, Namjoon catches a glimpse of your rosy smile flashing his way, peeking at him beyond the wall of bubbles. It fills his chest with something buoyant and light as he makes his way back to you.
There’s absolutely nowhere he’d rather be.
As he sinks down in the water behind you, more displaces, splashing out across the white wood beams and dousing your hair in the process. He apologizes profusely but instead of getting mad, you simply slip the rest of the way under the water to finish the job. When you resurface, you’re laughing so happily that your smile is the brightest thing in the room, putting even the afternoon sunlight to shame.
He pulls you to him, affection for you glowing warmly in his chest as you settle between his legs and look up at him. He kisses your forehead, his heart filled with contentment, before reaching forward to dry his hands on the closest available towel and thumbing through the book until he finds the page he marked.
The two of you stay that way until the chapter is finished and the book is closed. Until the bubbles all dissolve and the water’s gone cold. Even then, once the water is drained, you still stay wrapped in a tangle of Namjoon’s long limbs as you twist to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.
Eventually he straightens out his legs to allow you to climb into his lap so he can find his way home again and slip inside you. Your bodies are swathed in the golden light illuminating the room as the two of you go effortlessly slow and unhurried, taking your time . 
Namjoon sinks into you, lost in the beauty of you and your connection. 
This time, your session together is marked in emotion and security. 
He knows how much you want to start a family with him, and you know how special it was for him to let his walls down, to let you know how scared he was to lose you. Both of you are in awe of not only how attracted you are to each other, but also of the caliber of human you’re currently sharing your bodies with, of how transcendent love making can feel when your hearts and hopes are as interwoven in the act as they now are with all your cards on the table.
When Namjoon finishes this time, it’s in sync with you. It’s the first time that happened for the two of you in tandem. As your eyes search his, you're both aware that this shared state of bliss is nothing short of miraculous. As story-worthy as this act has always been between the two of, this time feels different. Markedly so.
Perhaps, it’s because you’ve both dropped your guards enough to fully let the other in, in a way you hadn’t uncovered before. If the crashing of his heartbeat has anything to say about it, Namjoon would probably guess that you've both sunken so deep into each other that it was impossible for the crescendo of your orgasms  not  to crest all at once for the both of you.
Once you’ve gathered yourself enough to speak, you watch Namjoon with dazed eyes, in awe that someone as incredible as him even exists, let alone that you get to call him yours. As he slips out of you, the warmth of his seed flows out between your thighs, and some ridiculous part of you can’t help but smile.
Namjoon catches it too, and leans forward to kiss you. 
“You’re gonna be a great mom, you know that?”
Your eyes flash to meet his. Your body is spent, your emotions are big and at this point, your heart feels so filled to the brim with affection for him that you fear it won’t fit in your body anymore.
“They’re gonna be the luckiest kids in the world to have you for a dad,” you whisper with shining eyes as you touch his chest.
He dips his head, smiling so exorbitantly wide that it consumes his whole face, and all you can think is that you can’t wait to see that dimpled grin shining back at you from the face of a little boy or little girl down the road.
“By the way,” you begin as his gaze perks back up to meet yours. “You should know that we’ve tallied the votes for husband of the year.”
“Oh really?” His brows lift attentively. “Should I pack it up? Is it time to let the dream go? Surely it’s not going to a rookie this year.”
“You’d be surprised,” you tip your head. Taking his hands you place them so they’re cradling your chest. “On behalf of the board and the esteemed academy, it is my honor to present the award of husband of the year to you, Kim Namjoon.”
As he throws his head back, he bursts into a bright fit of laughter and mock cheering like you’re both surrounded by a make believe crowd. 
“Oh my goodness,” he squeezes your breasts in his palm like the globes are irreplaceable awards. “I would just like to thank all the people around the world who supported me and believed me, who shined the light of their support on me even on days when this seemed bleak. We couldn’t have made it here without you guys. This award belongs to all of you.”
He waves to the imaginary audience he’s created before pressing your breasts together and happily burying his smiling face between them. He mumbles something you can’t understand that gets lost in the downy softness of your chest as you laugh at him.
“What are you even saying down there?”
“I’m thanking the people who got me here.” He eyes you soberly like that should be obvious before breaking character and cackling at how ridiculous this is. “I can’t believe we really kept this joke going all day.”
“I can’t believe I got in the tub to clean up the mess you left earlier only to now, once again, be sticky with dried up mess.” You look ruefully between your legs.
“Hey, hey, that mess may very well become your child.” He tuts as you grin and narrow your eyes at him. 
“I don’t think that’s how this works.”
“Semantics,” he shrugs, kissing your nose. You can’t help your eye roll that follows. “Hey,” he breathes, eyes suddenly serious.
“Yes, love?” 
“Please know, whatever happens, I’ll always love you, and I’ll always take care of you. Both of you, if we’re so lucky.” The tips of his fingers rest against your lower belly, and yep. You were right. Your heart bursts clean out of your chest. You can feel the way your eyes glisten, happiness spilling from them as you get lost in Namjoon’s smile.
“I know you will, Joon. I know you will.”
-fin.
843 notes · View notes
softrenjunnie · 3 years
Text
the battle of hogwarts l pj
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pairing: reader x jay
characters: boyfriend!jay, friend!jake, brother!sunghoon, chosen one!heeseung, death eaters, voldemort, other small characters
genre: hogwarts!au, angsty angst (maybe a little speck of fluff somewhere? but i wouldn’t bet on it)
word count: 4.1k
warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, pain, death, torture and broken bones; swear words; character death.
note: spoilers !!!! i reference/talk about a lot of the stuff that happens in the battle of hogwarts, aka spoilers from the “harry potter and the deathly hallows” book (and movies), but i mean it’s a different story so it’s not super spoilery? note that heeseung plays the part of harry potter here !!!! also, the ending is rlly bad and weird (just like many parts of this oop-) but also pretty open so i guess there could be a pt 2? if i ever get the inspiration to write it heh
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“stupefy!”
you heard the voice from behind you and managed to leap to your side to avoid the spell just in time, letting the red light instead hit the wall in front of you. you turned around, and instantly noticed the death eater who was standing many meters away, his wand by his head and ready to strike. “petrificus totalus!”
“protego!”
the beams shooting from his wand met the shield yours had produced, blocking it and letting its light die out. closing the distance between you, he lunged forwards and kept casting a variety of spells, which you, with great difficulty, blocked. you couldn’t hold your protection much longer, it was getting too tough - so instead, you turned around and made a run for it. a green beam of light missed your head by only a few centimeters, as you turned around a corner and kept running. you knew he was following you, and you knew you couldn’t keep this up; just as he rounded the corner, you pointed your wand to the roof above of him. “bombarda maxima!” you tried your best to keep your voice as steady and strong as possible, despite your wild nerves. the spell worked; soon, the death eater lay buried underneath the heavy stones that had just fallen.
you let out a sigh as you determined that he wasn’t going to rise, but you remembered to not let down your guard. there were perhaps hundreds of others inside and around the castle, and you knew from this little incident that they weren’t afraid to attack. so as you ran ahead, on towards the great hall where you hoped to find the people you were looking for, it was with your wand raised high and your eyes listening for every small sound in your vicinity.
you had been taken aback at first when that death eater had arrived; you hadn’t expected to meet anyone the moment you stepped out of the room of requirement. you thought everyone ought to be in the great hall, or perhaps outside of the castle - not lurking around on the top floors of the building. but none of that was what was going through your mind at the moment. you were focused on finding-
“jake, watch out!” you could recognize his voice from miles away, and especially when he was calling out for his best friend, but you don’t think you’ve ever heard such desperation in his voice ever before. at the end of the hallway, you spotted him - jay’s wand was shooting rays of all colors as he leaped forward, shooting down the woman in black, long robes who had just a second ago had a good grip around jake’s neck. she lay still on the floor, and for a few moments the boys stand as if frozen, until jake crouches down next to her and declares that she’s still alive, just fainted, to which both boys seem to calm down for a second. that is, until a scream is heard from a bit away, and the both of them run to where it came from, out of sight from you.
you were surprised that you had stopped in your tracks to watch the scene ahead of you, and you shake yourself before starting to run forwards again. reaching the end of the hallway, you turn to the way jay and jake had just gone. through the big entrance to the great hall, your eyes scanned over your two friends who were helping a ravenclaw girl, who you recognized to have been in your charms last year, fight off two death eaters. sprinting towards them, you watched as the girl, who you now remembered is called yewon, got hit by a spell right in the stomach, launching her into the wall behind her with great force.
as the wizard cheered his own accomplishment and was left unfocused on the other students, jake used the opportunity to strike. “expelliarmus!” he yelled, and the death eater’s wand flew out of his grip and onto the floor, close to where jay was currently standing, fighting the other death eater. as jake stunned the wandless wizard, jay did something he shouldn’t have - he bowed down to pick up the wand from the floor, but in that exact moment, the witch in front of him aimed towards him and was surely about to jinx him-
“levicorpus!” you yelled with all your might, now only standing a few meters away from them both, and the witch too dropped her wand, now hanging in the air upside down. 
jay turned his head to where your voice had come from, and his jaw dropped once he saw your face. “y/n?!”
“petrificus totalus.” the witch now dropped down onto the floor, head first, and you almost felt bad for her for a moment before you started thinking about what she could’ve done to jay if you hadn’t jumped in.
“what are you doing here?” jay exclaimed, coming closer to you. “are you completely crazy?”
“a small 'thanks' would’ve been nice,” you scoffed, and before he had the opportunity to say anything else, you turned your head to where your former classmate had crashed into the wall, and spoke again. “yewon? are you still there?”
you didn’t hear an answer, and you ran over to where you suspected she was - and she was right by the wall, lying on the floor and sobbing as she held an arm to her chest.
“hey, are you alright?” you crouched down next to her, placing a hand on her trembling shoulder.
“my arm...” she managed to get out in-between sobs. “it hurts...”
when you looked at it, it wasn’t bleeding nor did it have any visible curses on the skin. you turned your head around to jake, who was now standing behind you. “do you think it’s broken?”
“likely. with that force, i’m surprised more isn’t,” he said, and you nodded agreeingly, pulling out your wand and tapping it to her forearm.
“brackium emendo.”
yewon gave out another cry, but this time it wasn't out of pain. “thank you! thank you so much-”
“y/n,” you heard jay’s stern voice from behind you and you turned around once again. his arms were crossed over his chest, and if you had been anyone else, you likely would’ve crumbled under his gaze. but you couldn’t, not now, there were much more important things to do, people were still screaming on the other side of the castle walls and- “please, can’t we talk?”
you stood up, dusting off your knees with your hands before speaking to jake. “make sure she’s okay, please? and pick up that witch’s wand from the floor, and make sure neither of the death eaters get up.” jake nodded at you, flashing you a small smile, before you walked over to where jay was now standing, two tables away from the others.
the great hall was completely empty now, except for the four of you and the two stunned death eaters, and the atmosphere was almost tranquil, even though there was a full-on war going on just a small distance away.
“what are you doing here?” he asked, the desperation clear in his voice. “i thought they made it clear that-”
“i didn’t get to choose what i wanted to do, i was just forced into the room of requirement like everyone else, and-” you took a deep breath. “of course, i escaped. did you really expect me to just follow the others?”
“yes, because you’re underage, y/n!”
“by two months,” you spat, having a hard time controlling your anger at jay’s stubbornness. “i’m two months too young to fight? that doesn’t make any sense, you know i’m better at charms than most of your classmates!”
he shook his head, his eyes wandering around the room. “they were the rules, y/n. i can’t believe you-”
“can’t believe what? that i would want to fight for my school? fight for my friends? fight for this world to not go under-” you let a few tears fall down your cheeks, and you weren’t sure if it was out of exhaustion, frustration, or despair; likely a combination of them all. but you didn’t bother wiping them away. “fight for you. did you expect that i would just sit at home, just hoping that my friends, family, and boyfriend would all survive? not knowing anything and not being able to affect it would’ve killed me, i think you know-”
you were cut off as he pushed his lips onto yours. your eyes fluttered closed instinctively, and your hand that wasn’t currently holding your wand went up to cup his cheek. he tasted of blood from a small cut on his bottom lip and you tasted of salt from your tears, but neither of you minded. kissing jay felt so familiar; it felt like you were home again. it felt like you were back in your common room with him like you’d been a year ago, when no war had been going on and no dark lord was preparing for his final battle. jay’s lips smoothed over yours with such ease and such softness that if you hadn’t been standing, you could’ve fallen asleep from it.
“hey guys,” jake’s voice made you jump into reality again, and you moved your hand from jay’s cheek to his chest to push him away from you far enough for your lips to part from his again. “i hate to be the one to interrupt your moment, but uh... we should really get going.”
you nodded towards him, before looking back over at jay again, who did not look like he had wanted to stop his previous actions, a tiny pout on his lips. now that you were standing so close to him, you could study his face; there were several smaller wounds all over it, and he winced slightly when you reached up to remove a small piece of glass that had been stuck in a cut below his right eye. you used your thumb to wipe away the blood which had leaked down from a bigger wound by his jaw. “episkey,” you whispered, watching as the skin melted together and soon looked as if nothing had ever happened to it.
there was a loud bang, and the glass of the windows behind the staff table shattered everywhere - and in through the hole ran at least a dozen new death eaters, followed by students, teachers, parents, and other adults who were fighting for your side. and amongst them, you spotted none other than your brother - sunghoon was dueling a death eater, whom you’d seen before in the newspapers, all alone, but as he struck the other wizard with a jinx that seemed to have an extreme force, the death eater flew and slammed into a wall just like yewon had done.
in the few moments that you had stood watching your brother, the people around you hadn’t stopped like you, but instead started helping out in battles. you instantly joined jay’s side again, helping him battle a tall and broad man whose wand was producing beams of light at a faster speed than you had ever seen before. “incarcerous!” jay roared, and ropes appeared out of thin air which wrapped around the death eater and held his limbs tightly together.
“good one,” you told him, and turned around to find someone else to help - but standing right behind you was none other than sunghoon. 
“jay, are you dumb?!” he screamed at the boy standing next to you. beads of sweat were rolling down his face and his dark eyes made him look of a mixture between exasperated and exhausted. “forcing my baby sister into a war?!”
“he didn’t force me, you idiot!” you frowned up at him, groaning. “i chose it myself. and what part of me is baby, sunghoon? i’m almost of age, start treating me like it!”
“either way, you can’t be here! you have to get back to the room of requirement!”
you shook your head and took a step closer to him. “in case you haven’t noticed, they’re fighting in here. if we don’t help out soon, we will all be dead. i’d rather die helping out than die arguing about this!”
you walked past him and raised your wand, ready to strike at a witch jake was taking on at the moment, but sunghoon grabbed your arm and pulled you back. you were about to shake him off and complain when he pulled you into a hug. holding you close, he muttered, “i can’t lose you. please, please, take care. never battle alone.” you squeezed him back and nodded into his chest, before pulling away from him. you heard how he told jay to protect you, and the two of them were just about to hug when a red light missed the tops of their heads by just a few centimeters, almost as if it was a signal that you all needed to get back to the war.
you and jay took on one death eater each, throwing spells and shooting colored jets through the air as quickly as you could. but after stunning your opponent, and helping jay do the same to his, you overlooked the room and realized just how many people there were. it was extremely crowded, with injured people crying for help while lying on the floor and voldemort’s helpers assaulting other wizards and witches with both their wands and their bodies. it was overwhelming, there were too many of them, how would you ever win this? your breath became uneven, and you felt like you weren’t getting any air. your head was spinning, and the ground felt like it was shaking below you - it likely was, to be honest - and you couldn’t stay in your place a second longer.
you turned around slowly, before moving towards the opening of the main hall and looked for the best place to go. to your left, your defense against the dark arts teacher was fighting two robed, tall men all by himself, though he seemed to have no problem doing so; to your right, the hallway was empty, so that’s where you went. you found a hole in the wall a bit away, and you could almost hear the fresh air of the night calling for you, so you climbed out through it. instantly, your lungs were filled with the cold air, making you close your eyes in satisfaction and sit down on the ground, relaxing fully. you instantly felt better, and you felt like you wouldn’t have to be out here for a lot longer before you could back inside, just-
“look at who we have here,” said a female voice from beside you, and you opened your eyes and flew up to stand on the stone debris from what had formerly been the wall. you recognized her instantly - she was one of voldemort’s most faithful followers, and you had read about her and her escape from azkaban in the newspapers before. “isn’t it the little mudblood who’s been helping lee heeseung in his plans against the dark lord?” you raised your wand to attack, but she was quicker. “expelliarmus!” your wand flew up into the air and landed right by her feet. you didn’t even bother trying to fetch it, you knew it would be to no avail. “tell me where the boy is hiding, and i shall spare your life.”
“i don’t know!” you cried out.
she raised her eyebrows. “hmm. maybe this will make you remember. crucio!”
you had never experienced pain like this in your life. you crashed down onto the ground, unable to control anything in your body. the pain was obliterating, intense, all-consuming. you screamed, but you couldn’t hear yourself, all your senses being dulled out by the pain. 
and suddenly, she broke off the curse, though your muscles were still throbbing from the curse. “do you know where he is now, then?” she sneered.
“no-” just as you had managed to whimperingly utter the word, she flicked her wand once again. the second hit of the spell felt a lot like the first, but this time she held it for much longer. your bones were on fire, a million knives were pushing into your skin, boiling water was being poured over your body, your head was about to explode-
the relief you felt when she stopped the curse for the second time was indescribable. high-pitched, horrifying laughs were flowing from the death eater’s mouth before she once again spoke. “i think you know now.”
you wanted to slap the grin off her dark lips, but you had no energy to even stand up. instead, you gathered your last bits of power, and said, “i don’t. and even if i had known, i wouldn’t have told you.”
she chuckled, before shaking her head at you. “you silly girl... you deserve this.”
the third time the spell hit you, it was much worse than the other two times; she must’ve gone extremely angry by now. it felt as if you were in space, there was no air for you to breathe. your lungs weren’t working properly. you wished to do anything to make this extreme pain go away, anything... even disappear or... die...
though it had felt like an eternity for you, there were only a few moments after she’d cursed you that the curse was interrupted once again. you couldn’t even look up; you were curled into a ball on the ground, eyes shut tight, wishing that everything would just be over...
soon, there was a shuffle beside you, and soon a hand lay on your shoulder, shaking it gently. “y/n? are you alive? please, be alive...”
by now, you were just barely breathing; it was too hard, it took too much energy from you and you already had very little left.
“hey, it’s all fine now,” a voice told you, as a hand caressed your cheek. “she’s gone. you’ll be fine. please, just-” the voice paused, and when it returned, you could tell that the person by you had turned around and was now yelling towards the entrance of the castle. “jake! get some water, quick!”
you were too exhausted to listen clearly to his voice and try to recognize it, but from his wording, you could easily tell who it was. slowly, you opened your eyes, looking up at jay who sat crouched next to you. he had more bruises and wounds all over his face now than he had had when you had left him, and he was looking down at you with eyes of such panic that you’d never seen before. “fuck, y/n,” he mumbled. “you can’t just go off like that. do you realize how-”
he stopped in his tracks when you reached up with a hand to thread your fingers through his hair, pushing his fringe back and out of his eyes. “i’m fine.”
“a-are you sure?”
you nodded slowly at him, closing your eyes once again and letting your arm fall to your side. “i just need to...rest a bit...” jay let out a sigh of relief, and his hand went from your shoulder and up to your face, letting his thumb wipe away a few tears that you hadn’t noticed shedding. “what happened to her?” you hummed, voice low.
“oh, you didn’t hear it?” you furrowed your eyebrows. “i stunned her at first, but then voldemort spoke over the grounds and told his forces to retreat, to give us one hour to treat to everyone’s wounds and to say our goodbyes to those who are leaving us. he said that heeseung has an hour to give himself in, or else the war is on again.” 
you were surprised that you hadn't heard voldemort's voice, but then again, you even now had to put in all your force to hear jay properly. you looked up at him. “he’s not going to, is he?” you questioned, to which jay merely shrugged. “he can’t, that’s-”
“y/n, are you okay?! someone told me what happened,” said jake as he came up to you two, an empty plastic bottle in his hand. “i only found this, it’s empty, i know, but i mean you can always-”
“aguamenti,” jay said to cut off his friend’s rambling, filling the bottle quickly before handing it to you. thanking them both, you sat up straight, although every muscle and every ligament in your body screamed as you did, and drank a couple of sips.
deciding that you wouldn’t get anything done sitting there all night, you put away the bottle and pressed your hands into the ground, trying to push yourself up, but instantly failed. jay saw your struggling and bolted up, offering his hand down to you and helping you stand up once you took it in yours. “how’s your balance?” jake asked as you froze for a few seconds when you were trying to figure out if you were blacking out due to the stinging feeling in your head or due to your blood pressure dropping from standing up too quickly.
“not good enough,” you chuckled. “will you guys help me?” they both nodded, and soon they were by your sides, letting you throw your arms across their shoulders to steady you.
as you walked into the castle again through the hole you had come out from a while ago, you couldn’t help but to think about what jay had said earlier. say our goodbyes to those who are leaving us... he made it seem like there are many who were too injured to bring back. there couldn’t be a lot, could there?
“where is heeseung?” you asked, moving your head between them to look at their faces. “he knows we are fighting, right? he can’t give up!”
jake stopped in his tracks, which made you jump back too even though you all were just a few meters from the main hall by now, and he gave jay a very specific look. “you haven’t told her, have you?”
jay rubbed his hand that wasn’t holding you up against the back of his neck. “i- i haven’t found a good moment to do it!”
“wha-” was all you could let out before jake spoke again.
“and you think this is a good moment?!” he almost yelled, shaking his head at jay.
“i don’t think we’ll find a better one, nor that we have any choice,” jay groaned, and just as your confusion and frustration of not being allowed into the conversation peaked, someone ran into your view.
“oh my god, y/n!” cried yewon, running up to you. “i’m so sorry for your loss, i wish there was something i could’ve done-”
and that’s when it hit you. you realized what jay and jake had been referring to, but you refused to believe it. she must’ve been confused, it can’t have been true, nothing was wrong-
you pulled away your arms from the boys and ignored their calls of your name when you sprinted forwards, past yewon and into the hall. you pushed away your thoughts of your aching muscles and how it was likely unwise to do this; nothing was more important right now than making it all the way to where the dead bodies lay in the middle of the room. they had removed the tables by now, and people were gathering in groups around the wizards and witches on the floor, though you couldn’t see anything other than the one body you were aiming towards. and as you reached him, the world turned black.
“sunghoon,” you whispered, crouching down to the floor and shaking him by his shoulders. “please, sunghoon. you’re not dead, you can’t die, not now, you...” before you knew it, your sobs were uncontrollable, your face buried in his dusty cloak. this couldn’t be real. there was no way. “wake up... i beg of you...”
you felt someone sit down next to you, and then a hand on your back. you instantly turned around and threw yourself into jay’s embrace, crying out loud. your hands clutched at the material covering his chest and once again you had trouble breathing, your breaths unnaturally short and rapid. jay held your trembling body to him as tightly as he could, hoping that if you felt that he was there with you he’d be able to hold you down in reality, to make sure your mind wasn’t floating away. 
but as time passed, and you started realizing that sunghoon wouldn't come back, your sorrow turned into something else. vengefulness. they weren't getting away with this. 
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jaehyunzzmilk · 3 years
Text
dinasty (part 2)
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pairing: prince jaehyun x concubine reader
word count: 3.4 k
genre: Historical Mafia AU, smut, light angst
summary: after the perfect escape, you have to find a way to fit in your new life, leaving the past behind may seem easy when you're working for 4 princes and one of them is interested in you, right?
notes: hello again, part 2 is up and we have a new love triangle, thank you for liking the first part so much, and prepare for even more surprises
this doesn't have any relation to real facts and history, it's just pure fiction for entertainment purposes
warnings: violence, blood, cheating, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving)
main characters: jaehyun (prince), yuta (samurai, villain), ten (thai mafia, villain), kun (China's emperor warrior)
Reality - Part 2
Part 1 here
"- Nice tattoo!" the man says.
It was dark and his face was only visible through the moonlight.
You freeze, the man stays still looking at you like you were his prey.
You try to cover your body but your only reaction is to grab your stuff and run, praying he wasn't gonna come after you.
Arriving at your room, breathing heavily you try to think about what just happened. A guy like that had to be a prince or someone really important. Ms. Lee told you to be lowkey and on the first day you let a man see you naked in the bath area. "Whatever" You were just too tired to think, you didn't do anything wrong anyway, so you were gonna pretend that it didn't happen. The Korean Palace was gonna punish you for going to the wrong bath?
Suddenly you realize Kun's necklace isn't with you. "Fuck, I must have dropped there" but now it's too risky to come back and look for it so you decide to do that tomorrow. You lay down on your mattress and try to fall asleep.
-
Next morning Ms. Lee showed you the rest of the Palace, the kitchen and assigned your tasks. It was a lot of work and details, each of their meals had to be perfectly planned. They had someone even to taste the food before them so they know it's not poisoned.
"- I'm gonna be responsible for the King's meal and you're gonna be responsible for the four prince's meals."
-Four?
"- Yes, Taeil, Doyoung, Johnny and Jaehyun. Now you should prepare their tea, they always drink green tea in the morning."
While preparing the tea you wonder which one you saw at the bathing area and if you should tell Ms. Lee what happened yesterday.
You're walking with the trays to the dining place when you try to talk to her.
-Ms. Lee!
-"Yes"
-So yesterday...
You realize you still don't know much about Ms. Lee and even if Kun trusts her, you don't. Also you can't help but think that serving tea was much better than your life at the concubine's house, so you try quickly to think of something else to say.
-Well, yesterday… Before I met you… this man helped me at the harbor, he was wearing black clothes and had a samurai sword.
-"Stay away from him!" She turns at you. "They are dangerous, they will kill everything and everyone on their way, people you don't want to mess up with."
By Yuta's facial expression when you mentioned Ms. Lee's name you weren't surprised she said those words, you wonder why but she wasn't gonna be the one to give you the answers. Otherwise, you still weren't afraid of him, he was gonna be the last of your problems here.
-"Now let's get in there, first you bow and then you serve them the way I showed you, don't look at them in the eye and don't say anything." She says.
In silence, you enter the dining room along with the other servants behind you bringing the food plates and you stop in front of the tables on the floor where all the princes are. There are two on each side, the two oldest and the youngest, all of them are sitting on cushions, they all have long hair and are wearing beautiful hanboks.
-"Your highness, may I introduce you to your new servant 'y/n', she is my niece and she is gonna work with me in the kitchen from now on." Ms. Lee said while you bowed, you were still too nervous to look up and look at them. "Now, may we start with the tea." Ms. Lee turns to you and signs that you can go and serve them.
Holding the teapot you go to the first prince, the oldest, Taeil, he is very handsome, with his light brown hair, face delicate and mature at the same time. Slowly you pour the tea into the cup by his left, he doesn't do anything, just stays still looking down and you wonder if you did something wrong. On his right it's Doyoung, after you pour the tea he gives you a small nod which makes you feel calmer. He is also very handsome, shiny black long hair, perfect posture, he sure looks like a prince. On the other side, Johnny, you can feel he is looking at you, the first to say "thank you" after you pour the tea. His face is gorgeous, even if he is sitting down you can feel how tall and strong he is. And then, Jaehyun, the man from the bath. You freeze when he looks directly at your eyes, you try to stay calm and pour the tea but can't help but shake a little bit. He is the definition of perfection, he had perfect skin, perfect face, everything about him.
Jaehyun keeps staring at you even when you stand up and comes back to Ms. Lee side.
-"Seems like someone likes our new servant!" Johnny says laughing. The other boys look at him but Jaehyun remains silent and serious, still looking at you.
They give the first sip to their tea. Taeil stops and smells the cup.
-"Did someone… put ginger on the tea?" He asks.
Ms. Lee turns at you with her eyes wide open.
-"Did you put ginger when you were making the tea?" She says in a low voice. - Yes, that's how we usually drink it in China, I'm so sorry.
-"Don't..." Taeil says taking another sip "- From now on keep in that way". You see Jaehyun smirking with the corner of your eyes.
Your whole body relaxed, you felt like you were going to faint. Ms. Lee bows and tells them to excuse both of you. As soon as you enter the kitchen's door she grabs your arm.
-"You have no idea how lucky you were this time young lady, Taeil is the most picky to all the food we make, when he started speaking I thought I was gonna have a heart attack"
-Me too! But I'm so sorry, I swear I'm not doing anything again without asking you first.
-"Good! Now get back to work"
-
Later after you finish your schedule you come back to the bath area to look for Kun's necklace. You look everywhere but it's nowhere to be found.
-"Looking for this?" Jaehyun stops behind you holding your necklace.
You turn around and he comes closer to you.
-"I asked if you're looking for this?" Now he is inches from you.
-Ye- yes!
Jaehyun walks behind you and gently moves your hair to the side, putting the necklace on you.
-"Does that belong to your boyfriend?" He is so close it's almost he's whispering in your ears. You get goosebumps.
-Excuse me?
He smirks and comes back to look you in the eyes.
-"I fought in the war 2 years ago, I remember those from the chinese soldiers." He tilts his head to the side and looks at you from head to toe. "Or you did?"
-A prince fighting at the war?
-"And a very bloody one but yes... it would be a shame being a prince and let your people alone bring victory to your country"
-It does… belong to my boyfriend.
You hold your necklace in your chest.
-"And where is your precious boyfriend when a pretty face like you is talking to the enemy in another country?"
-It's complicated!
-"I have time!"
-Why? Do you want the full story to snitch on me?
-"Sweetie if I wanted to snitch you out I would have already!"
He was right.
-You wouldn't believe if I told you anyway!
-"Try me, I've seen it all"
You both sit on a stone beside the water.
-Well, when I was 9 my family was struggling, we didn't have food, money, anything… so my father sold me and my sister to a concubine's house. She went to a different house than mine so I never saw her again actually. But anyway after years of being a slave in all forms to that house I fell in love, to someone from the thai mafia, of course things got out of control, I was so dumb. When I tried to run away he found out and did this tattoo on me, I was in so much pain because I fell off the roof trying to run away that I didn't even felt the pain of the needle, I just stayed there, still. Then I met Kun, I fell in love again, he helped me to escape, and it worked.
-"And I assume that story of being Ms. Lee's niece is all lies."
-Yes! She helped to raise Kun and met his mother so it's the only reason she's doing this until he arrives.
-"Oh so he's coming."
-He works for the Emperor and he said they would kill both of us if he ran away, so he is gonna wait a little bit and ask to retire, he wants to do it the right way, then he'll join me.
-"If you allow me to say this but… I would never have let you to come alone, sometimes you don't have to do it the right way" He gets up and walks to the exit of the bath. "But I'm glad he did and we could meet"
You give a small smile with the corner of your lips.
-"Oh and by the way..." He turns at you. "The staff's bath area is on that way." He points to his left.
-I know now. Thanks.
He smiles and leaves.
-
Weeks passed and you were getting used to your new life. You were doing your job right, even making some different dishes from your hometown to the princes. Meanwhile you unexpectedly started spending time with Jaehyun. Since your conversation at the bath, you both got closer in a natural way. On every free time you had you spent time together, you mostly liked to walk on the garden because it was more private, he told you about his childhood, how he had to give up on so many things to be who the kings expected him to be, how he felt like he was on a prison his whole life and how he found joy on learning how to fight because it was the only way he had to express himself and not follow the rules. You were surprised at how wholesome he was, he made questions about your life in a way that you know he wasn't being just pity, he was interested in how other realities exist outside the Palace.
One afternoon Ms. Lee asked you to go to the flea market to buy fruit for the dinner's banquet. You went alone since now you were familiar with that.
Because of the summer there were a lot of different kinds of fruits on sale. You bought peaches because you knew Jaehyun likes it. After buying everything you needed you see some crowd gathering between the market, you approached them and notice some weird men you've never seen before. They were thieves. They were on their horses, destroying the sellers' stands, pushing everyone in their way, they even tried to put a food stand on fire. You saw a little kid who got lost from their parents and was crying right in the middle of the path where the thieves were. You run in his direction and catch him, putting him safely to the side of the road, when one of the men slaps your face "Get out of the way slut!"
The slap was hard so you fell on the ground when suddenly you see another group of men coming that way, they all had black clothes and katanas. The samurais. They were so fast, they fought the thieves in a blink of an eye. There are people running and dust everywhere, you feel a hand on you. "Let's get you out of here" you recognize the voice, Yuta holds you and takes you to a safe place.
-"Why every time I see you, you're in trouble? Didn't I tell you to not walk around alone?"
-I was just buying stuff at the market when they came out of nowhere.
-"You're bleeding, let me see your lips" Yuta takes the fabric that was covering his mouth and carefully wipes the blood on your lips.
-"You're gonna need ice if you don't want to get bruises..."
-Don't worry, I've had worse wounds! - You laugh.
-"You didn't tell me where you came from"
-You didn't either, and why are you doing this? Helping me when you told me to stay away?
-"Well you should!"
-I'm not afraid of you.
Yuta looks at you, his mysterious gaze turns into vulnerability.
-So, I will tell you my story if you tell me yours! - You say.
-"Years ago the king had a deal with Osaka’s emperor, since he traveled there and they proposed to do an alliance and protect each nation together, but when the war happened and the emperor asked for the samurais to fight on their side here in Korea. We came and it was all a trap, a lot of us died, the emperor stole our ships and made all his people be afraid of us spreading lies, that we were dangerous. Since we couldn’t come back home we settled ourselves here, but the funny thing is every time the small villages are in danger, like what you saw today, it’s us who come first to help them. You asked me why I saved you, where I came from, we take care of everyone, no matter what."
-I'm sorry!
-"Now your turn, what’s your dark pass?"
-Apparently like you I was also a victim of the war in my country, but other than having a sword and fighting I was just a concubine trapped in a house for so many years, let’s say I just involved myself with the wrong people and ran away.
-"It’s called a katana… the sword. And maybe I can teach you how to fight." He smiles.
-Me?
He gives you the sword.
-It's much lighter than I thought.
-"Careful, it's lighter but the blade is gonna be the sharpest of all swords. Here... You must hold like this!" He took your hands and taught you how to hold the sword, carefully he showed you some self defense moves.
-"Now if someone ever tries to slap your face again, you do this..." Yuta grabs your wrists and pins you agains't a tree, you can't move obviously, he is so close to you and you feel the sexual tension building.
-"Get away from her!" You hear a familiar voice screaming. It's Jaehyun.
Jaehyun gets off his horse, he was mad, you never saw him like that. You jump in front of Yuta.
-No wait! He saved my life! - You scream.
-"What? Y/n do you know who he is? He is a murderer." Jaehyun looks at you.
-"If you arrived 10 minutes earlier you could have joined us but the little prince was busy at his Palace right?" Yuta provokes him.
-"That's enough!" Jaehyun comes closer but Yuta doesn't even flinch.
-Please Jaehyun, let's go!
You grab his arm and take him away from Yuta.
- "This doesn't end here bastard!" - Jaehyun spits at Yuta's direction.
-
You come back to the Palace with Jaehyun and he takes you to the bath area.
He is sweating, you could see his veins popping because of how mad he was.
- Jaehyun please, everything is alright, you need to calm down!
- "No it's not, look at you, you're hurt" he grabs your face and touches your lip with his thumb.
- It's ok now, I was at the market when some thieves arrived, I was protecting a little kid who was gonna get hit by their horses, they got mad because I was in the way but I swear it was nothing and Yuta helped me and everyone in there!
- "What? How do you know his name?"
- When I arrived from China he saw me at the harbor, I was so weak from the trip he helped me and even took me to Ms. Lee! I don't care about your old family issues, he helped me and that's all.
- "I'm sorry I'm just… the Palace guards heard the thieves were at the market and when I knew you were there I got my horse and went after you, I just couldn't let anything bad happen to you y/n!"
He grabs your face with both of his hands and kisses you. You try to push him but still can't open your eyes and break the kiss completely "Jaehyun we shouldn't..."
- "If you don't want it then tell me to stop" your heart is beating so fast, you swallow hard and look up at Jaehyun, "I know I'm not the only one feeling this" He says kissing you hard again.
He is right. "Touch me" you say, grabbing his hands and placing them on your breasts. When he is caressing his hands on your breast he removes your necklace, dropping it on the ground. He unties your dress and slides the fabric until your lower body, he is on his knees in front of you and he passes his hands on the back of your thighs until your butt and kisses your thighs slowly. He keeps eye contact with you and licks your clit, you moan and grabs his hair in response to his tongue going faster.
In your head it felt so wrong because you were in love with Kun, but Jaehyun made you feel so needy, mind and body.
Jaehyun gives a hard lick on your clit and makes his way up to your stomach leaving a tray of kisses until your breasts, he sucks one nipple while his other hand and flicks the other one. He gets up and kisses you, the kiss was so wet, for a moment you forget that anything else exists while he kisses you hard, licking and sucking your bottom lip. He takes off his clothes, his hard dick slaps on his toned abs, pre cum leaking over his tip. Jaehyun lifts you up "Let's go inside" taking you to one of the hot tubs.
When you felt the heat of the water on your body, the feeling of pleasure and lust took over you, Jaehyun pulled you down onto his lap and gave you another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck when you feel his tip on your core. "Oh my god" you scream while his hands holding your waist puts you down until his whole length was inside of you. The feeling was so different, you got a harder friction because of the water and you start moving up and down to get used to his size. Jaehyun's shoulders and biceps tense while his cock is stretching you out. You bounce on him screaming in pleasure, body trembling as he helps you to move faster.
He was pushing all the way into you, hitting your g-spot. You arch your back and moan his name, clenching every time he enters you. You're almost out of breath when he sucks your neck and presses his thumb against your clit. "Jae, I'm gonna..." you can see he is close as well as he sucks your neck even harder and moves his finger faster. You scream when you feel your orgasm, your arching pussy made his cock tighter while he couldn't hold it anymore and released into you as well.
You both stay in the water for a bit recovering from the climax, he pulls you to his chest and you close your eyes.
-Am I dreaming?
-"I think the reality right now is better than your dreams."
"Reality" you thought, back at your own senses you couldn't help but be disappointed at yourself. Because of you Kun was risking his own life to help you to run away and now you're with the prince of the place he arranged you to work for. Maybe you were just a filthy concubine, maybe you deserved everything they did to you, even your tattoo. You roll your body and rest your head at the border of the hot tub, a tear coming out of your eye.
-
Part 3 coming soon
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ivyglow · 3 years
Note
being a single mom and your child falls asleep on one of the boys
it was a movie theater night, you used to do it with your four-year-old daughter every month, and after she met Brock, your boyfriend for seven months now, she was absolutely in love with him. Although you knew he was great with kids, you were not expecting her to get so attached to him, especially because she was shy and it took her time to get around people and be outspoken, but Brock stole her heart so fast you could only smile when they two were together. You couldn’t even remember why you were afraid of introducing him to her when you started dating. Maddie was so happy when you agreed on calling Brock to join your movie theater night, she wore her favorite overalls and held the stuffed shark he gave her a while ago. When Brock rings the bell Madison runs so fast to open the door you can’t help but laugh. He’s standing there holding a bag of something and you instantly know it's for Maddie because he loves to spoil her. 
“Hey, little one! I got you and mommy some chocolate chip cookies from my favorite coffee shop,” he crouches down to her level and she smiles before wrapping her little arms around him and saying a shy thank you. He gets up and you hug him too, leaving a small peck on his lips. Brock settle Madison on the baby car seat he bought specially for her considering his nephew and niece were way too small for the seat - he confessed to you it was for her a while back, and the drive to the movie theater is comfortable, there’s some calm music playing and Madison goes on about how Frozen 2 is gonna be cool and she can’t help but watch it, while Brock agrees and they discuss theories -because yes, she got him into the movie just like she does with everyone around, Madison was this charismatic. 
The night went on smoothly, the three of you shared a medium popcorn bucket, Brock drank orange juice with Maddie while you went with water and they shared a bag of skittles close to the end of the movie. He would smile at you every once in a while and hold your hand, but his focus was mainly on Maddie because she seemed so happy and energetic, she was glowing and so were you because her happiness was yours too. 
When the movie was over you went to the bathroom and Maddie waited for you with Brock, her small hands being swallowed by his and you couldn’t help but noticed how they looked for the people passing by. they looked like father and daughter. you took your time washing your face and fixing your hair since the two times you came to the bathroom during the movie was to take Maddie to pee. After washing and drying your hands you got out and the scene in front of you melted your heart. Madison is now on Brock’s arm, head rested on his shoulder and eyes closed, her face seems so peaceful you know she’s in her deep slumber, you smile walking to them. 
“Hey,” you whisper, even though the place is full of people and there’s noise enough to wake Madison. 
“Hey, there” he answers giving you one of his signature smiles, “she seemed tired and she asked me to hold her, is she asleep?” he asked. 
“Yup, it usually takes forever for her to sleep outside especially when it’s noisy around,” you point out and he smiles shyly. “Thank you,” you whisper holding his free hand and Brock blinks at you. 
“No need to thank me, y/n. You know I love her,” he tells you while holding her closer. He motions for you to hold his hand when you start a walk to the parking lot, your fingers thread together and his hold is warm, Brock always feels so warm. There’s the safety sensation around, he makes your heart warm too and you know it’s real love, you know you were finally the lucky one. 
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chibivesicle · 3 years
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Golden Kamuy - Kikuta deserved better - 273-276
As I catch up on things, I’m gonna hit the highlights that really stuck with me.  Ogata is able to escape from Vasily using the tactics he observed from the showdown in Barato with Hijikata cutting through random row houses.  He’s seriously gotten into Vasily’s head as he hesitated to snipe aggressively after killing the wrong guy with Ogata’s cloak.
The only worthwhile thing from this continued and seriously a no longer interesting plot point, is getting to see Ogata wiggle under a fence like a cat.
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So, I approve of this at least.  My own cat scores this as an 8/10 in cat wiggling.  Minus 2 points for not enough emotion from Ogata’s face.
Thankfully, Asirpa was able to escape with Sofia after Tsukishima gunned down Ariko.  It seemed to me that Koito froze/hesitated during that situation.  Tsukishima had no problem brutally shooting Ariko at point blank while Koito literally just hung back and watched. 
Asirpa is in a state of extreme shock. She just interrogated by Tsurumi to give up the code, watched Ariko be shot and now sees Boutarou’s corpse in the bottle-mobile.  Our girl needs years of therapy - she’s reaching the same level as our male cast members at this rate.
At least she breaks down in tears as Sugimoto tries to console her.  The artwork for this part of the page is excellent, it really does capture the melting of her mind and how she’s realizing how deadly the gold is.
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It ties directly back to her argument with Kikuta before all this shit went down.  I’m always giving Sugimoto crap for being a moron, but it seems that he did make the right action by reaching out to allow her to hug his arm.  There is that soft look as he gazes down at her and just lets her be emotional.  It is clear that his presence is a comfort to her as she takes her time before returning to a more lucid mental state.  This is shown by how she opens her eyes and looks up before declaring that they need to meet up with Hijikata since she’s figured out how to crack the code.
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Meanwhile, Kikuta rushed Ariko to a clinic to save his life.  Being the father figure/older brother he is, he tells him that it isn’t his time to die; he never made that makiri yet! And to my relief, Ariko wakes up!  Noda didn’t go for the lazy writing of killing of the minor Ainu character, something I was afraid of.
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If his father saved him, it means his makiri was where he was shot in the chest under his uniform.  There is a lovely transition about a makiri in a fictional museum that was made by him, implying that he returned home and did make the makiri and likely resolved some of his identity issues, though it was still likely a tough life for him.  Ariko apologies for not being able to work as a spy for Central and really it isn’t like he’d be able to do so anyways.  But he did verbally point out he’s now politically on the side of someone like Asirpa to fight for their culture and right to exist in spite of colonial powers. The middle panel of Kikuta bidding him farewell just gives me the feels.  It is so clear that Kikuta knows he’s toast.  He saw Tsukishima shoot Ariko and Tsukishima likely watched him as he tried to save the man.
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The fact that he said a casual line about going to an onsen.  Ugh, death flag for sure right there.  It seems Ariko knows that as he looks forlorn.  Kikuta is that sort of suave man who is going to look cool even though he’s doomed; he’s that awesome.
The action returns to Tsurumi at the church having solved the code.  With Tsukishima gone off to try to kill Ariko, Koito has remained behind.  All of a sudden Koito reverts to his extreme Satsuma accent when addressing Tsurumi in the absence of Tsukishima.  I think he didn’t even realize it at first, just like how after they escaped the fight with Boutarou, Koito spoke normally to Tsurumi without realizing it.
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It is clear it took him a moment to realize he was speaking ‘Koito’ as Tsurumi is unable to respond to him and he then panics.  Koito is more than willing to chase after Tsukishima and support him, but Tsurumi instead recalls him.
At first he consoles himself that everything is okay. 
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He is trying very hard to convince himself that everything that they witnessed through the keyhole was all an act to get the key!  Yes, it isn’t that Tsurumi doesn’t have some sort of awesome goal and this isn’t about how the death of his wife and daughter left him unhinged!
But the other random members of the 27th then comment on how strongly Nikaido reeks of beer . . . and Koito then thinks about how he and Tsukishima were hiding in the room at the church when Tsurumi ‘checked’ that he was alone.  And then it hits him - they were also played as a part of the ‘Tsurumi theatre’.  Unlike Tsukishima who has whole-heartily given himself over to Tsurumi, it is clear that Koito can’t.
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That monologue sounded too good to be true.  He weakly says Tsukishima’s name into the rain as he then thinks ‘No . . .’  The rain is really fitting in this scene, I think it really is a stand in for Koito’s own disappointment and tears in this entire crazy quest for the gold.  Is he worried about his ‘older’ brother figure?  Himself?  Both of them?
He continues to try to rationalize the performance that Tsurumi gave them - even if Tsurumi lied to them, it wasn’t all a lie.  Oh Koito.  I want to give you a hug and pull you away as your little bon-bon-ness has won me over.  Most of that speech wasn’t for Koito, it was for Tsukishima.  Speaking about helping Japan is what Koito would like to hear but we can tell he doubts that as well.  Hence, his waffling.
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But then he realizes that as Tsukishima has given so much - all of Tsurumi’s words, even if they were ‘sweet lies’ as he he referred to them on Karafuto, it was just perfect for Tsukishima.  However, Koito has broken the spell that Tsurumi held over him.  The final page of the chapter of Koito looking at the illuminated Tsurumi and shutting the door on him.  It is the exact opposite of when Tsurumi rescued Koito from the kidnappers when in his youth. I now find myself wondering how this relates to the tiger curse.  It is clear that the curse for Tsukishima will not end well.  After he shot Ariko, his eyes regained their sparkle!  Not good, not good at all!  However, have I misinterpreted it for Koito that by becoming disillusioned with Tsurumi he will be cursed to be miserable through him gaining independence from his hero worship of Tsurumi?  The idea that ignorance is bliss, and now Koito is well in the know.  The fact that when he and Tsukishima were sort of on the same page was when he could speak to Tsurumi but now that he’s on a different path from Tsukishima he’s tripped up again.
Chapter 274 finally allows Asirpa to determine the fake skins after what she witnessed with Boutarou in the brewery and thinking about Ainu garments that she figured out that Edogai likely went above and beyond with his fakes.  Thanks money counterfeiting guy from the fake Ainu village for the inspiration.  It is a lot of pages that tie together other plot points nicely but really doesn’t do anything for me as a reader personally.
The most important point is that as Sugimoto falls asleep while Asirpa and Hijikata work with the skins is that we get another flashback - one that links him to Kikuta!
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and even more importantly - Hanazawa Yuusaku!  Chapter 275 starts out with an homage to the classic movie ‘Singing in the Rain’.  As soon as I saw Sugimoto spinning on a lamp post, it was obvious.  Yes, small town boy in the big city - causing trouble.  He gets in some sort of brawl with random guys from the army and is ‘rescued’ by Kikuta, who immediately realizes that he’s hungry and decides to treat him to some lunch.
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It shows that Sugimoto has a short fuse and is an impulsive youngster.  Really, he is lucky that he didn’t do more stupid shit to get him in trouble.  We can also clearly see that Kikuta is a member of the 1st Division, the Tokyo based one that Sugimoto eventually enlists with.
Kikuta decides that he wants Sugimoto to impersonate Hanazawa Yuusaku and to go on a marriage interview for him.  This is because Hanazawa Hiro, the now identified wife of Hanazawa, is pulling the strings in the background to prevent Yuusaku from becoming a flag bearer.
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This then makes us wonder why these two parents have such contrasting expectations for their only son.  It makes me think back to my theory that Yuusaku was a pretty poor solider and lacked any skill or potential.  Long ago, Tsurumi told Nikaido that Ogata is the ‘true heir’ of Hanazawa inheriting his military and [some] leadership skills as he stood on the watch tower in Barato ordering the random gangsters how to fight effectively.  Yuusaku is a disappointment for Hanazawa - he can only save face by having his son become such a symbolic part of the army.
I laughed at the next page where Kikuta confirms that Hiro is colluding with the young heiress to steal Yuusaku’s virginity and thus preventing him from becoming a flag bearer.  I love the posture of the terrified Yuusaku!
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However, Hiro’s plan has been found out by Hanazawa and he consulted with the leader of the 1st Division to assist him with resolving this unpatriotic and embarrassing issue.  Recall that Ogata was born as a result of Hanazawa being posted to Tokyo - this implies that he likely became good friends with the leader of the 1st Division during this time.
To prevent anyone from identifying Sugimoto, he’s the perfect substitute for Yuusaku and changes into Kikuta’s uniform.  He’s one of those guys who just has that look.  Sugimoto immediately thinks that since he’s been treated well by Kikuta, joining the military might be a good way to find security - in food.  However, we get a link of the cap to Kikuta and what appears to be his dying younger brother.
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Kikuta looks so sad, like there is something unfortunate with Sugimoto’s statement of food.  We don’t get to see his expression, indicating he’s likely hiding his emotions from Sugimoto and instead tells Sugimoto he’s going to have to train him in food etiquette.
He’s presented with some Western cuisine, something that may blow his cover and something that Kikuta didn’t expect as he watches from a tree outside.  But again, due to his extreme luck, he’s able to use nervousness as an excuse and it gives him time to state his family his super traditional so they wouldn’t have eaten food like this.  When he’s removed the cap, Kaneko Kaeko is smitten with his handsome face. He can use his excuse as a way to have an out for not knowing how to eat that tasty ebi fry (why to I hear ‘ebi fry’ in Nyanko-sensei’s voice?).
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As she explains the fancy places she’s dined at, Sugimoto thinks about how he was living off of cat food.  Cue another reason why he just hates on Ogata, since he was stealing food from Ogata’s people! 
The rest of the dinner goes well, and Kikuta checks in with him.  Meanwhile, our wealthy heiress is completely smitten with him!
As Sugimoto mulls over the idea of a somewhat arranged marriage as a negative he spills the beans about Toraji and Umeko.  And Kikuta isn’t having any of his bullshit.  I love how Kikuta points out how selfish and downright stupid Sugimoto is being in all of this.  Kikuta gives Sugimoto good advice - which he’s clearly still never followed.
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He makes it clear that he’s got to give up on that hometown and move on.  Which will be completely ignored as Toraji will end up in the 1st Division with Sugimoto in the trenches.  I’m now wondering how Toraji and Sugimoto reconnected.  Hrrrmmmmm?  Is this something that Sugimoto encouraged and that’s why he has all of these unresolved emotions about Toraji’s death in the war?
The chapter reveals to us that Tsukishima’s love ended up marrying the cousin of Kaeko, making Tsukishima’s acceptance of her ‘death’ even more heartbreaking as he thought that Tsurumi had lied to him about her fate.  [weeps bitterly]. 
As Kikuta and Sugimoto discuss what appears to be Yuusaku’s lack of a free will, he’s told not to meddle in others concerns.  What does Sugimoto do? The man just can’t keep to himself and he goes and finds Yuusaku to confront him.  He wants to know if Yuusaku wants to be a flag bearer even though it is a death sentence.  How does that conversation go? Just how we’d expect with all of the information we know about Yuusaku.
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I love how he’s like it isn’t to meet my father’s expectations!  It is because understand my father’s convictions and fight for my country.  Okay, you keep telling yourself that Yuusaku, but it still sounds like you are doing this for your father, you know tomay-to, tomah-to.  Sugimoto mulls over what Yuusaku would choose if given the choice.  I just sigh as we know enough about Yuusaku’s backstory that the man only does what his father says - with great conviction. All of our Ogata flashbacks have made this so clear, Yuusaku is a doomed man from the moment he entered the army.  Maybe even a doomed man from his birth even.  Perhaps, he’s acutely aware of this, but based on how freakkin’ awkward he’s with Ogata and his older brother actions, I continue to think he’s not the brightest bulb in the pack and can only be used as a patriotic pawn.
Yuusaku then becomes suspicious of Sugimoto’s line of inquiry and realizes that he’s got Kikuta’s cap.
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Not sure how to respond, he runs away and we learn that Kikuta’s younger brother died of illness during the first Sino-Japanese war.   That same war that killed Koito’s older brother and that Tsurumi and Tsukishima fought in as well. With the statement of illness, I know what most likely killed Kikuta’s younger brother - malnutrition - specifically beri beri.  As the Japanese military rapidly modernized using European models, they ran into an issue with many soldiers and sailors dying of some sort of mysterious illness and it wasn’t something that impacted the Westerners at all.  Most of this has to do with the ability to eat white rice which was much more processed.  It made it more expensive, but was nutritionally bad for men who came from lower incomes or poverty.  Remember how stoked Asirpa was when she ate white rice all the way back at the herring fishery?  If anyone has read “House of Five Leaves” by Natsume Ono, you’d know the protagonist is a poor ronin and he falls ill due to beri beri.  The solution was to return to the countryside/hometown to eat a more diverse diet.  For a more detailed explanation of how bad this was for the Japanese military check out the video by Linfamy on youtube here.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzIBpFDRr5g
The video even highlights the fierce (and counterproductive) competition between the Army and Navy which has already been well defined through Koito’s backstory. The chapter ends with Sugimoto dropping the cap and the polite man who picks it up for him is Tsurumi with Ogata, Usami and Tsukishima in Tokyo. The plot thickens . . . somehow Sugimoto got mixed up in the business of the 27th and apparently Tokyo isn’t a vast city that you can get lost in and everyone knows everyone.  Like how I was on flight to Saskatoon and the man next to me started up a conversation how he was from Burlington and went to Guelph and my friend who I was going to visit was also from Burlington and went to Guelph it is a small world kinda moment and in agriculture.  I digress though.  Things are starting to pull back together but I’m still not 100% on with this plot direction/story arc.
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dmcvergillament · 3 years
Text
Bedtime Stories [Part 1]
Fem!Reader x Vergil
Summary: Unable to sleep, young Nero requests a bedtime story. You happily oblige and weave a tale that Vergil recognizes. Nero falls asleep to the legend of the dancer and the dragon and Vergil remembers how he fell in love with you.
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Tucking little Nero in for the night, Y/N kisses his forehead. "Sweet dreams, my little angel."
Vergil picks up toys off the floor.
Nero catches Y/N's hand to stop them from leaving. "I...can't sleep without a story."
Vergil looks up from studying a blue bird plush he found. It looked oddly familiar...
Y/N smiles and sits back down on the bed to brush aside Nero's bangs. "Alright. What story shall I tell?"
Nero snuggles up to his chin in his comforter, eyes shimmering with curiosity. He waits for his mother to begin.
"Ah! I know: how about the legend of the dancer and the dragon?" suggests Y/N.
Vergil pauses as he sets the bird down alongside a black cat on a shelf. His interest is also piqued. What fantasy is Y/N spinning now?
"In a land far, far away in a time long, long ago..." begins Y/N, twirling her hands.
'There they go again with that dramatic voice,' thinks Vergil. Still, he cannot deny how his lover never fails to spark wonder in their son's eyes. Only a few words in and she has Nero's full attention.
"...there was a dancer who could mesmerize entire palaces with every step. When they moved it was like watching petals on the breeze. The soft colors of their clothes twirling around their long legs. Stories spread across many kingdoms of not only their unrivaled skill but also that of their bewitching beauty. All that bore witness to their dance were charmed. It was like a magic spell only they could use," continues Y/N.
"Were they as pretty as you, Mama?" mews Nero, tilting his head in that way that always melted Y/N's heart.
Y/N reaches over to stroke their son's ivory hair, before opening her mouth to say---
"What a foolish question." Gliding over to the bed, Vergil sits opposite of Y/N. His eyes flicker to Y/N before he continues, "Do not compare a rose to a field of dandelions."
Nero seems satisfied with this answer.
Y/N gestures for Vergil to not interrupt before she adds, "So one day the dancer gets invited to the royal palace to perform. Afterwards, the King becomes so enthralled, he begs them to stay and marry one of his sons. The dancer politely refuses and leaves. This was not the answer the King had hoped for and so he hired a famous knight to find her and bring her back to the palace."
Rubbing his chin, Vergil wonders, 'Why does this sound oddly...familiar?'
"This knight always wore brilliant, scarlet armor, so the people called him the 'Crimson Knight'. Legends spoke of how he could slay any monster and of the sword he carried upon his back. It was a grand sword said to be enchanted with an ancient magic that allowed it to cut through even dragon hide," explained Y/N, waving her hands like she was trying to make the sword appear.
"He was a dragon slayer?" asks Nero curiously.
"No matter how tall or dangerous the monster may be, he was always victorious. While many claimed to have been witness to such a feat, no one knew for certain if he had slain a dragon. After all, dragons were the most powerful of foes. They were cunning, proud, and equipped with immense magic," answered Y/N.
"Could he beat a dragon?" questions Nero.
"He most certainly believed he could. After all, he was the Crimson Knight: the warrior of all the human kingdoms. Whenever a monster appeared, he was called in to defeat it," replied Y/N with a nod.
"Sounds like someone I know," grumbles Vergil.
"Shhhh."
"But here he was faced with a strange request: to hunt not a beast but a woman. A woman armed with only an aptitude for dancing. This was not a job for the Crimson Knight. The King---afraid he'd decline and she'd slip away---lied. He told the knight that the dancer was harboring a curse set upon her by a demon. That if she was not found and brought back to the palace to be purified, she would die. Now this resonated with the Crimson Knight. How could he let such a beauty wither and wilt from such misfortune? So he set off to find her," continued Y/N.
"How could he lie? She's not really cursed, is she?" asks Nero with a frown.
Vergil interrupts, "People lie because..." He clears his throat. "Sometimes they lie to get what they want."
"She's not really going to die, right?" whispers Nero.
Vergil glances at Y/N. "No, she won't."
Y/N nudges him with an elbow. "Shhh, no spoilers."
"So without even knowing she was being followed, the dancer hopped from town to town to perform. Rarely did she stay for more than a few days in the same area. Her heart was set on adventure and she enjoyed the journey even if it was tedious without a horse or carriage. She felt as free as the birds in the sky. With her spirits soaring, she set out for the neighboring city. However, along the well-trodden path, a man appeared. Whipping his cart into a frenzy, he was approaching fast. Spotting her, he jerked on the reins and nearly fell off the bench. 'Young lady! Young lady!' he gasped. 'Turn back now! Only death and hellfire awaits at the end of this road!' Stunned, the dancer asked him to explain. 'A dragon has appeared! He has built his den inside the ruins of the castle and he strikes down all who disturb him! The people are terrified! Protect yourself and run while you still can!' Then with a crack of the reins, his cart was disappearing down the road in a cloud of dust. The dancer stood there flabbergasted. How can there be a dragon of all things? Were they not creatures of myth? Not believing in the danger, she continued onwards despite the warning."
"No! Don't go! You'll get eaten!" gasps Nero, burrowing deeper into his comforter to hide.
Vergil snorts. "Depends on what you mean by 'eat' her."
Y/N shoots him a look. Luckily, she seems to be the only one to catch it. Nero is oblivious as he is too busy trying to blend in with his pillows.
"Anyway..."
"Our heroine reached the city and was hit by a startling revelation: it was quiet. Walking through the marketplace, she found stands of fruit abandoned and carts of goods unprotected. Where was all the hustle and bustle? Where were all the people? Further up the road, shutters rattled and there were hints of movement. The dancer wondered if she'd even be able to perform here if there was no one to be the audience. Then an idea stuck her: what if she could coax the people out with her talents? If not dancing, then maybe a lute or harp would soothe their spirits and rekindle the city's vigor. So she sought out the very reason she had come to this territory specifically: the grand theatre. There all kindred souls of music and art showcased their passions. She had hoped to connect with other performers here who were as dedicated to their craft as she was. Spotting the gold rooftop shimmering in the evening sun, she scurried towards it with a renewed excitement. Throwing the doors open, she gleefully announced her arrival."
"Only to be met with silence."
"How can a place of boisterous joy be silent? On hooks and shelves, all the instruments sat idle. Not a single string was singing. Even the tables were vacant with not even a crumb set out for the mice. 'What is going on?' she wondered. Still, she was even more determined now. Picking up a lute, she played a few notes. Testing its voice, she listened to the hearty tones and wondered how anyone could have put it down. Jumping into an energetic melody, she smiled to herself. This hall echoed the sound perfectly: each note complimented each other rather than drown in a sea of cacophony. Erasing the silence eased the chill that had settled in her chest. That is, until someone snatched the lute from her hands. 'Are you mad?!' hissed a man, 'You'll draw the beast right to us!' Confused, she asked him to explain. 'Music attracts him. If you keep playing, he'll come back!' She asked him if he was speaking of the dragon she heard about. 'Yes. He has settled into the castle on the hill. Both the castle and its lord perished many years ago. The city has never been quite the same since. Now this monster has taken over and the peace in our hearts have been shattered.' The man's words sowed worry in her heart. Yet, something struck her funny: if this dragon was so vicious, then why did it only attack, when he heard music? Did music have some kind of power over him?"
"Did the dragon not like music? Why?" Nero peeked around the edges of his blanket.
Y/N fixed her son's hair behind his ear. He was already nurturing the start of a bird's nest.
"The music made him remember..." Vergil's eyes were glossed over. Y/N could tell he was somewhere else. "Remembering was...painful for him."
Not expecting a co-narrator, Y/N waited to see if he would continue.
"See, the dragon was cursed: his memories stolen from him. Hearing a melody sometimes brought those memories back in bright flashes. Remembering what he had lost pained him more than the sharpest blade. Rather than endure his past, he silenced the melody any way he could. Even if it was...cruel," explained Vergil, his voice dry.
Was that a twinge of guilt Y/N could hear?
[Continued in Part 2...W.I.P.]
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deliasqueen · 3 years
Text
Battered Love
Summary: Falling in love with Cordelia was easy, but will your brain allow her to love you back.
Warnings: Shitty parents? Idk if that’s a warning but just in case.
Word Count: 2.5K
A/N: So this may or may not be about my life with actual examples. So um this is my heart poured out into writing, and I’m terrified to post this.
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You had been living at the academy for almost a year now. The second you walked in you were completely enthralled with the Supreme’s beauty.
Wanting to know everything about being a witch, you started spending time with her. It started as small lessons in her classroom to spending long hours in the greenhouse. At first the relationship was purely platonic, with a lingering glance here and there, but after a couple months, it started to turn into something more. You two making each other’s preferred morning drinks when you got in the kitchen before the other, lingering touches, and using your greenhouse time to destress and get to know each other better as opposed to practicing spells.
One night in particular had you really feeling a certain way for your favorite witch.
Cordelia was sitting on the bench, and you were lounging on your pillow pile on the floor. You two had been talking about nothing really when Cordelia opened up about her past.
“You know I have an ex-husband, right?” Looking over at Cordelia you see her staring mindlessly at the ceiling, and you were shocked.
“I didn’t know that. May I ask what happened? Only if you want to talk about it of course.”
“You’re fine sweetheart. He was a witch hunter, which was bad enough, but he also cheated on me,”
After a deep exhale she continued, “I felt worse than I could put into words. I hated myself for loving someone who hated who I am. I hated myself for loving someone who put the girls into danger. I hated myself for loving someone who didn’t value me,”
Wishing you could wrap her in your arms, you just listened to what she had to say.
“What made the pain even worse is that my mom was so awful to me. I mean she was always awful to me but this…made it so much worse.”
After hearing her say that, you got up and took her into your arms. You pulled her down into your pillows, and you two fell asleep on the greenhouse floor tangled in each other’s arms that night.
After that night you knew you were truly in love with her, but you were too scared for her to love you back. Hearing your entire life how much your mom hates your dad, and how you are just like him, hearing how much your mom hates you, hearing your mom constantly talk about how if she could leave you two she would, eventually took a toll on your idea of love. No matter how respectful you were, how much of the perfect straight A student you were, no matter how many awards you got, you just weren’t good enough for her. You knew no matter what you did you would never be good enough for anyone to love. You were so afraid that if you let Cordelia in, and let her love you, she would eventually start to hate you just like everyone else. The only thing that gave you a little hope was that Cordelia knows what it’s like to be hated by her mom, no matter how perfect you try to be.
 It was Saturday evening, and the girls were all in the living room having an extremely competitive game of drunk Uno. Skipping tonight because of an assignment you had to get finished, you were sitting in your room when you heard a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” turning off your music and moving your laptop you looked up to see Cordelia walking in.
“Hi honey, can I sit?” with a sweet smile, she motioned to the spot next to you.
“Of course.” scooting over, you gave her room to sit with you.
“You know the girls are asking for you to come down.” She looked at you with a pout.
“I want to, but I have too much work,” with a frown you motioned to your laptop.
Humming Cordelia just laid her head on your shoulder.
Feeling electricity shoot through your body you murmur, “How come you aren’t downstairs?”
“Why would I be downstairs when my favorite girl is up here alone?” She wrapped her arm around your front snuggling into your shoulder.
When you tensed up, she immediately knew something was wrong.
“Are you ok honey?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Scooting over, tears formed in your eyes and you did everything in your power to not let Delia see.
With a look of pure hurt in her eyes Cordelia said, “Y/n did I do something wrong? You can always tell me if I’m overstepping.”
“No! No, no. It’s not that, it’s just me being complicated.” Quickly you grabbed her hand and ran your thumb across it to get the pained look off her beautiful face.
“You know you can talk to me about anything.” With big does eyes Cordelia looked at you and made you want to melt into a big gay puddle.
Quickly trying to decide to open up to her or not is one of the hardest decisions you’ve had to make. You could tell her everything now and have the possibility of being able to love her, and kiss her, and cuddle together, but at the same time what if she hates you and wants nothing to do with you once you two start dating.
Letting your negative thoughts get the best of you, you decide it’s better to live in this eternal torture of not expressing your love than it is to have the love of your life hate you.
“It’s really nothing Cordelia, I’m just stressed and tired from school.”
Cordelia being the ever observant one caught onto you saying her full name. Thinking that she had done something wrong she left your room with a mumbled “goodnight” and went to bed.
Watching Cordelia walk out of your room like a sad puppy broke your heart. You knew you had screwed up. Big time. Regretting every choice you’ve made in your entire life, you disregarded your assignment, laid down, and cried.
 Waking up to a sun filled room on Sunday, you walked downstairs to see your mug in its place inside the cabinet with a missing Cordelia’s. With a big sigh and sadness filling your chest you went back to bed and quickly fell asleep.
Awaking to a knock on your door, you groaned and rolled over to see what time it is. Picking up your phone and squinting from the abrasively bright light, the time read 2:07. Shocked at the fact you slept in so late, you jumped out of bed and answered the door. Opening the door you were met with a very angry Madison and annoyed Zoe.
“You broke Cordy,” snapped Madison.
At a loss for words, you just stared at her with your mouth slightly agape.
“Cordy isn’t being her usual chirpy annoying self. Today she is just mopey, rude, and even more annoying.” With that Zoe elbowed Madison and looked at you.
“Look Cordelia is clearly upset and it’s affecting us. Just whatever happened please fix it, so she starts acting like herself again.” With that they both walked away and left you staring at the Supreme’s door conflicted.
What got to you the most about what the girls told you was that Delia is clearly upset. And that makes you upset. You thought her hating you would be the worst feeling in the world, but the fact that she was upset because of you broke your more than you could’ve ever imagined. You knew now was the time to open up about something you had locked away and buried so deep for so long.
Walking over to Cordelia’s door you hesitated. You knew you wanted to do this, but you were also terrified to do this.
With a light knock to the door, you bit your lip and wanted to run away.
A somber “come in” was all it took for you to swing the door open.
You were met with the sight of Cordelia snuggled up in a blanket reading the book. This was the book of poems you gave her for her birthday a couple months ago. You highlighted all the parts that made you think of her. Things that talked about beauty, grace, and intelligence. You put doodles of flowers and stars in the corners of some pages just because when you think of Delia you’re inspired. She cried when she read through it and told you this was the most special, heartfelt thing she owns.
“I owe you an explanation,” you looked into her sad, red eyes and your heart broke 1,000 times more.
“May I sit?” With a nod from Delia, you sat next to her with just a little space between you two to give you room to breathe.
“Look y/n, I’m really sor-“
Cutting her off with a finger to her soft lips you began, “I want you to know that my reaction yesterday had nothing to do with anything you did. You do not need to be sorry about anything. I should be the one apologizing. I reacted harshly when I shouldn’t have,”
“Y/n you tensed so hard it was like I hurt you.”
“I know, and I shouldn’t have reacted that way. That’s why I owe you an explanation,” Scooting just a bit closer to Delia for her comfort, you prepared yourself to bring up this topic.
“Growing up my parents couldn’t stand each other. They were constantly arguing and fighting no matter where we were. Every year they would have this one massive blow out fight. I had to watch them do awful things to each other and call each other the worst names. Names you would call your enemy in a fight, not something you should ever call someone you love. Constantly watching my dad make my mom feel like she’s nothing and watching my mom shoot off at my dad over tiny things really started to wear down on me. I didn’t know what to feel or who to love when there was just so much anger,” Catching your breath, you didn’t realize tears were trickling down your face until Cordelia wiped them for you.
“And sure, plenty of people’s parents fight, but my biggest issue came from my mom. She was so miserable with my dad, and I was her venting outlet. I had to listen to her talk about how my dad makes her stomach sick and how she can’t stand being married to him. I was also the outlet of her anger. Even without a failed marriage my parents have actual anger issues. Between that and the anger she held in from the way my dad treated her, I had no chance. Delia, she was so mean to me,” Voice cracking on the last sentence, you look at Delia with tears flowing from your eyes and you reached out with grabby hands.
Cordelia quickly scooped you into her arms, and you buried your face into her chest and sobbed. She cooed comforting nothings and gently rubbed your back until you calmed down.
Laying on her chest, you began telling her more, “Ever since I was little, I remember my mom coming home from work and talking about how she wished she didn’t have to come home, she wished she could go somewhere else. I was young and didn’t really understand, but I knew deep down I was hurt my mom got so upset to come home to me. As I got older, it just got worse. Her and my dad started fighting more, so she took that anger out on me. She would constantly scream in my face about how I’m just like him and how she hated both of us. She would follow that with, ‘I would leave here if I had somewhere to go.’ Everything got so much worse when I came out. Well, I didn’t really come out. She forced me to, and I wasn’t ready. She acted awful towards me until my grandma died, and then she tried to be more accpeting. Even after that though, she was still miserable and mean. She would call me a little bitch when I swear I did nothing wrong. I didn’t do ‘bad’ stuff, I made exceptional grades, hell I took the SAT in 7th grade and scored so high I got state recognition, but no matter what I did or how hard I worked it was never enough to please her. It was always I could do better, and it got to the point where that was all I heard. That I was awful, and I could do better.” Tears back in full force you just sank into Cordelia.
Through your sobs you choked out, “The reason why I pushed you away last night was because I love you Delia, and I don’t want you to end up hating me like my parents do. I don’t want to have a relationship just for us to hate each other”
Completely shocked with your confession, Cordelia holds you against her so tightly and whispers as if she’s afraid speaking too loud will break you, “Honey, baby girl, love of my life you are not awful, and I am so proud of you. You are so smart, and talented, and oh so loving. You care about people so much. You always do what you think will help others before you do anything for yourself. You are the most special girl I have ever met; I could never hate you princess. I love you with my entire heart y/n, and my love for you will only grow. Our love is not your parents love. Just because they have the relationship they do, doesn’t mean everyone else does. There is true, honest love in this world y/n, and we have it.”
Sobbing into Cordelia, you are so unbelievably relieved with her response. You feel this sense of love and pride you have never felt before.
Once your sobs had calmed down into small hiccups Cordelia gently pushed your chin up with her finger to look into your eyes. Seeing the red, puffy y/e/c eyes she loves so much made her heart swell. With a soft smile on your face, you looked at her beautiful, full lips and back into her eyes with a pleading look on your face. With that Cordelia pulled you up to her and your lips met in a passionate, soft, and long-overdue kiss.
“I love you so much Delia.” Looking into her honey-colored eyes you felt at home.
“I love you too, more than anything in this world baby girl and not one thing on this Earth will ever change that.” Laying down she pulled you onto her chest.
“Sleep now my sweetheart and know you are so incredibly loved.” Placing a kiss to her chest, you drifted off into the most comforting sleep of your life.
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cafedanslanuit · 4 years
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Legend
♡   —   personal favourites
☆   —   fan favourites
♠   —   nsfw
♫   —   includes songs
Headcanons
RFA + Saeran - Dirty Dancing  ♫ ♡
RFA + Saeran - MC wants to have her own business
RFA - MC is ten years older than them ♡
RFA - What goes through their mind when they’re cuddling? ☆
RFA + Vanderwood - Having a rebellious kid ♡
RFA - MC can’t sleep unless with them
RFA - A bubbly MC makes self-deprecating jokes as a coping mechanism ♡
RFA - MC that is bubbly, confident and never afraid to stand up for someone
Yoosung dragging MC back to bed because it’s raining
RFA + V - MC blasts music when she’s upset ♫
RFA + V + Saeran - MC with a passion for anime and drawing
RFA + V + Saeran - MC with a major in fashion
RFA + Saeran - Quarantine edition ♡
RFA + V + Saeran + Obey Me! brothers on a trip to the beach ♡ ☆
RFA - MC with a hand fetish
MC has Jumin trying commoner food
Zen + Jumin + Saeyoung - MC is selfconscious about being chubby and they make her feel better  ♠ ♡
Jumin comforts MC about a guy who is texting her constantly and making her upset
RFA reacts to a MC that is called Elizabeth
RFA + V + Saeran - As Les Misérables songs  ♫ ♡
Saeyoung messes with Yoosung’s phone to help him out
Saeyoung x MC - MC makes her own music
Latina!MC and Jumin get stuck with MC’s latino parents during quarantine ♡
RFA + Saeran - MC gets her wisdom teeth out ♡ ☆
RFA + V + Saeran - MC has a bad coping mechanism of punching her thighs (tw!)
Domestic Texts Series: Zen & MC || Saeran & MC ♡
RFA - MC is obsessed with Elizabeth the 3rd
RFA + V + Saeran with a MC that likes going to protests
RFA - MC grew up in really bad poverty
RFA + V + Saeran - They find out MC is only eighteen after everything that happened during their routes ☆
RFA - How do they calm MC when she’s anxious?
RFA - MC has dyslexia
RFA - MC with chronic pain
Royal AUs with Jumin, Zen and Yoosung
Love Language Event with Yoosung, Zen, Jumin, Saeyoung, Saeran and V
Happy New Year Event with Saeyoung, Saeran, Zen, V and Yoosung
Thirst Asks [+18]
[All Asks]
[Jumin] [Jihyun] [Yoosung]
Fanfiction
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Mystic Messenger as failed love stories  ♡
reminiscing about the characters and your failed love stories in an alternate universe
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You get me ♡
What happens when you’ve finally found your prince charming, but he doesn’t seem to fit in your life anymore?
Bet you can’t leave me
Mystic Messenger Week 2020. “The first time she threatened to leave me, I felt like I was dying.”
Who are you?
Drabble prompt - Zen always sought recognition for his work. Lately, he’s been using other resource to achieve his goals.
Dance with me
Latina!MC tries to teach Zen to dance bachata.
Jealousy [Kinktober 2020 - Day 2] ♠
When Zen agreed to be MC's plus one at a fancy party, he never expected she would lock them both inside a bathroom in a fit of jealousy. The hunger in her eyes could only indicate she was about to remind him who he was with.
A plan gone wrong [Mysme Angst Week - Day 1]
You convinced Zen to stage a fake coffee date in order to give Jumin, your fiancé, a wake up call about how much he had been ignoring you lately. However, things don't go as planned.
i could buy you anything but i cannot buy you  ♠ ♡
[kinktober 2021 - day fifteen: body worship] Zen had always had the need to be in control for a lot of years. (...) His guard may not be up as much as it did back then, but to this day Zen still takes a second look at any situation he’s in. He can’t let anything drive him away from his acting career so he always has to give his best and not take anything for granted.
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You get me  ♡
What happens when you’ve finally found your prince charming, but he doesn’t seem to fit in your life anymore?
I always wanted to marry rich
Jumin Han stood with his hand holding the doorknob, not believing what he had just heard. There was no way this was happening. Not days before his wedding. Not only that, days before he married who he thought was the love of his life. The one who he thought he could trust, the one that didn’t ask for anything but his love and attention.
Home
You are staying at Jaehee’s after Jumin did something that made you really angry. While staying there, you start feeling sick and end up at the hospital. What you first thought was nothing to worry about, quickly turns into a nightmare that could change your relationship.
Sweet Creature  ♫ ♡
Jumin gets stuck in another country away from his wife due to the pandemic. He’s been having trouble falling asleep, so MC decides to tell him a bedtime story. A simple request ends up making Jumin open up about a small insecurity he had over his wife and his best friend.
If I could tell him  ♫
Request: “can i request a jumin fic where MC has a crush on jumin but is very shy and so ends up talking with the other members more and then jumin confronts her about it and she accidentally confesses/he confesses.”
Animal I Have Become  ♫
500 followers event. “So what if you can see the darkest side of me? No one will ever change this animal I have become. Help me believe it’s not the real me.”
Young God ♫  ♠
500 followers event. “He says: “Oh, baby girl, don’t get cut on my edges. I’m the king of everything, you know my tongue is a weapon. There’s a line on the clock that’s separating your thighs, if you wanna go to Heaven you should fuck me tonight.”
Crowded Room  ♫ ♡ ☆
500 followers event. “Baby, it’s just me and you, just us two, even in a crowded room, baby it’s just me and you” - [SMAU Epilogue]
Dear Jumin ♡ ☆
What if after all the events that happened during Jumin’s route, he didn’t fall in love with MC?
A new life
When MC gets into a car accident, Jumin ends up with her medical records. He never thought he would find out about what happened to his wife six years ago.
You see me in my room, wish you were here right now [Kinktober 2020 - Day 12] ♠ ☆
Jumin Han clicks on a pop-up ad and gets stuck into a cam girl website. As he waits for someone to come to his penthouse and fix his laptop, he can't help but notice a young woman giggling as she read through he comment section. From that moment on, he's hooked. And he can't wait to see more of her.
Sometimes I think about Elizabeth [Mysme Angst Week - Day 3]
Jumin tries to deal with the grief of losing Elizabeth the 3rd.
A late night conversation
A late night conversation with Jumin takes another turn into a much better scenario. [Fix-it fic for Jumin's DLC. Set on Episode 3]
Seven Minutes in Heaven - Holidays Edition  ♠
You’re home for the holidays and your friends invite you to a party. After a couple of drinks, one of them proposes playing seven minutes in heaven and makes everyone at the party leave an item of theirs in a small basket. When it’s finally your turn, you walk over and inspect the items before choosing the one that will decide your fate for the night.
A day off
For @/mysme-rbb event! You convince Jumin to take a small trip to the theme park. Taking into consideration it was the first time either of you had stepped foot in a place like that, it went exactly like expected.
you know i’m just a flight away (if you wanted you could take a private plane) ♠ ♡ ☆
[kinktober 2021 - day five: sex tape] Knowing Jumin is about to leave on yet another work trip, you suggest recording something for him to see while away. A little souvenir so he doesn't miss you too much- but now he's not sure he wants to leave at all.
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Superstar  ♫
500 followers event. “Before I met you, I pushed them all away / Soon as I kissed you, I wanted you to stay.”
What you always wanted
Mystic Messenger Week 2020. As MC’s anniversary with Saeyoung is approaching, she asks her friends of the RFA for advice on what present is the best one. After several recommendations, she decides on what she should give him. Her only hope is that he’ll be happy with her choice.
The Ghost Of You   ♡   [ Vietnamese translation ]
A love story between a man with a mysterious job and a nurse during the Second World War. “And all the things that you never ever told me and all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me. Never coming home, never coming home.”
Loving You ☆
Drabble Prompt. “I am profoundly enchanted by the flowing complexity in you.” - John Keats
Discoveries [Kinktober 2020 - Day 27] ♠
After you find a transparent light blue dildo hidden in Saeyoung's room, the question hangs in the air. Why not trying it out together?
Lost on you [Mysme Angst Week - Day 2]
A discussion about how to handle Saeran's recovery turns into the worst fight Saeyoung and MC have ever had. Both of them bring back past memories that should have never been talked about, in a desperate try to prove their point, not noticing how much they're tearing their relationship apart.
Just like him [Mysme Angst Week - Day 7]
No one teaches you how to grief. Sometimes you just do whatever it helps the pain go away.
give me the stars
For @/gureishi’s event. A small piece to celebrate Saeyoung’s birthday. A late-night escapade for two young lovers.
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Wildest Dreams  ♫ ♡
500 followers event. Slightly NSFW. “He says no one has to know what we do, his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.”
Seven Minutes in Heaven - Holidays Edition ♠
You’re home for the holidays and your friends invite you to a party. After a couple of drinks, one of them proposes playing seven minutes in heaven and makes everyone at the party leave an item of theirs in a small basket. When it’s finally your turn, you walk over and inspect the items before choosing the one that will decide your fate for the night.
Beautiful  ♡
Jihyun has a couple of burn scars on his torso after the fire that took his mother’s life. You make sure you know he loves every part of him.
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Wait for me
When the pandemic starts, MC gets stuck in another country, away from Saeran who was just starting his recovery. She tries to work a system with him so they can feel close even when they’re kilometres apart.
How ♫
500 followers event. “I’m asking for your help, I am going through hell, afraid nothing can save me but the sound of your voice.”
Vanilla ♠ ♡ ☆
NSFW. Saeran’s favourite place was between MC’s legs.
Apricity
Drabble Prompt. He never understood the reason behind this change (...). All he knew was that when winter came, he would start feeling tired out of nowhere and he would lose his appetite.
Gardening
Drabble Prompt. In which Saeyoung and MC break one of Saeran’s pot and they try to cover it up before he gets home.
All I’ve Ever Known  ♡ ☆
Drabble Prompt. Saeran has some doubts before his wedding. Thankfully, you’re there to send all his worries away.
Not to be able to love
Drabble Prompt. He wants to love her, he does. But when you’ve been through that much, it gets hard to love and not need.
Four Seasons (15 chapters)  ♠ ♡
Saeran’s After Ending. Saeran has finally found MC and is ectasic to finally be able to enjoy the good ending his tumultous life has reached. But with Saeyoung still missing and Mint Eye around, his happiness may have to wait a little more. Was love really capable to win against his inner demons or will he have to learn to fight for himself?
In another life [Mysme Angst Week - Day 4]
When MC knows her time is coming, she promises Saeran she will do whatever it takes to find him in another life. The only mistake was that she didn't expect to find him like that.
Our time
Saeran is saying his goodbyes but this time, you decide not to let him go. || Fix-it fic for Saeran's After Ending
even in the dark
For @/gureishi’s event. A small piece to celebrate Saeran’s birthday. Some days are better than others. But the people who love us stay through it all.
753 notes · View notes
cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years
Text
Tension
Pairing: Danny Rand x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of injuries
Word Count: 4.5K
Summary: What happens when Iron Fist takes an interest in an undercover agent? (I’m so bad at summaries and Titles please forgive me)
A/N: This has been sitting incompleted in my drafts for like months and I finally got the energy and ideas to finish it. I feel accomplished.
It made sense that you and Danny never crossed paths. You were just a S.H.I.E.L.D agent and he was part of the superhero program. Even though you were similar in age, you didn’t attend the same school and you had no skills in common so you never saw each other during training.
You were born into being a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, growing up on the Helicarrier and training your entire life to be an undercover agent. You spent your days with different names and different personas, gathering intel and you were more skilled using weapons and gadgets than actual hand-to-hand combat, while he was parading around the city in a spandex suit.
You, of course, had heard of him but only by the name Iron Fist, and you had never seen him in person.
And it would have remained that way if you hadn’t gotten shot on your last mission. Even though it missed anything vital and the surgery had been a success, you were still told not to do anything that might agitate it for the next 3 months.
So, that was how you got transferred from the undercover agent assignments to team strategist department.
“But I don’t want to be in strategies!” You complained, stubbornly following Fury around the Helicarrier as he desperately tried to get away from you.
“Strategies is for boring people! Like Coulson!” You shouted ignoring Coulson’s offended ‘Hey!’, practically throwing a tantrum in the middle of the training room.
“And more importantly, you gave my assignment to that bitch, Lia?! I’ve been gathering contacts for that mission for around a year and you want me to just hand it over to that lazy piece of shit who would rub it in my face even if she never did anything for the mission?!”
That finally made Fury turn around to face you and you sighed in relief, hoping he would at least listen to you.
“Agent Coulson, make sure that every time (Y/N) swears, 50 bucks is cut down from this month’s pay check.”
You threw him a foul glare.
“You will be transferred to strategies in a week—”
“But I don’t want to—”
“Under the superhero programme—”
“Those pyjama freaks—?!”
“End. Of. Discussion.”
You glared at him so coldly, it could have frozen hell over. Your nails were digging painfully into the palm of your hand but you barely felt it through your anger.
You practically growled, pulling out a 50-dollar bill from your pocket and slamming it onto Coulson’s desk.
“MOTHER F—”
***
The first time you met a member of the team wasn’t one that you had expected. It was a month and a half into your recovery and you had written numerous mission reports on behalf of them and reset the programming of their training bots after each practice session but you still hadn’t met any of them.
The time you were taking to recover was driving you crazy. It made you feel weak. 2 months ago, you were in Barcelona, undercover as an underaged bartender for a mafia gang and now you were going to physiotherapy every week.
Since you were young and Fury didn’t want to take the change of you permanently injuring yourself, he was being very strict about what you could do, he basically confined you to a desk job for the next 2 months.
It was driving you mad.
So, one day when everyone was asleep, you snuck into the training area to practice shooting which you were sure had gone a little rusty since the accident. Nothing a little practice couldn’t help.
You picked up your favourite gun, smiling at the familiarity in your hand, loading it and clicking the safety off before pointing at the target and shooting.
The next thing you felt was excruciating pain. So painful that you were on the floor, pressing your forehead against the cold metal, wondering why this was happening to you.
The rebound of the gun had been too powerful for your arm to take. You felt your injury pull suddenly and you couldn’t think of anything other than the blinding pain as you cried on the floor. Feeling utterly helpless.
“Hello?”
You started, teary eyes getting wide at the sight of a blonde by the door. You had to wipe your eyes for your vision to focus, grunting in pain as you raised your arms again.
You recognized Iron Fist. You had been seeing footage of him and his team members for the last few weeks and writing mission reports about him but seeing him in person was a different feeling.
You hid your face, pulling your knees to your chest, hoping he would leave.
“I heard a gunshot.”
“Yeah,” Your voice cracked embarrassingly, “That was me.” 
“Everything alright?” He came closer to you, standing a foot away from you and you shook your head no.
In all honesty, you wanted to get off the floor and go back to bed, but your arm burned so painfully you were scared to move it again.
“Here, let me help.”
You froze, but still let him raise his hand towards you. You saw his palm light up before he pressed it to your shoulder and you whimpered, shuffling away from him but he continued to apply a gentle pressure.
Soon you felt the pain get better, it slowly reduced to a dull buzz.
“H-How did you do that?” You asked, turning to him with wide eyes and he chuckled, seeing the childish wonderment. You clearly had never seen him in person before even if he had seen you.
Danny noticed you the day he had joined S.H.I.E.L.D. You were returning from yet another mission and the soft blue dress you were wearing among armoured soldiers was hard to miss when he passed the debriefing room. Immediately, he stopped to peer inside.
The contrast between the soft summer dress and your cold, professional expressions sent a shiver down his spine. You looked so untouchable. However, he noticed the blush on your face when the agents complimented you and felt his heart flutter.
He had seen your road to recovery, he noticed you falling asleep at your desk every day, constantly doing work because you had nothing else to do and he wondered if it would be weird if he asked you to lunch sometime. For your sake, of course.
Looking at you curled up on the ground, he had wished he had done it sooner.
“You shouldn’t strain yourself before you’re ready.” He muttered, feeling tongue tied next to the girl he had been infatuated with from a distance.
You could only nod. This whole-time people had been telling you the same thing and you always retorted with confidence, saying that you were as good as ready to get back on the field. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought they were right.
“I’m Iron Fist.”
“(Y/N).”
“I know.” His answer came a little too fast and had you raising a brow. Danny wished he adorned a mask to cover the whole of his face like Spiderman when he felt his cheeks becoming warm, “You write our mission reports. I’m not creepy, I swear.”
You chuckled airily, turning back to the gun that was left on the ground and you pulled it back into your hand before clicking the safety back on before chucking it across the room.
“Thanks for helping me.” 
“I’m glad I was there to help.”
***
After your first meeting, you found him approaching you more often after training. At first it was just ‘hello’s and ‘goodbyes. Then he began asking about your day and you gave him mundane responses before you were forced to ask him how his day was.
Then he started coming early before his training with a cup of tea for you, though it was sometimes juice, sometimes hot cocoa.
Then he started staying late after training and you would give him a bottle of water and complain about him being sweaty.
It was an unlikely friendship but nonetheless, you got closer as the days passed by and once you did, it didn’t take long for you to meet the rest of the team. They kept you company and you grew fond of the rest of them; however, it wasn’t the same way that you felt with Iron Fist.
Your crush on Iron Fist snuck up on you when you were least expecting it but once you realized it you couldn’t stop yourself from falling hard and deep. Still, you continued to hang out with him, pushing down the butterflies whenever he smiled and stopping yourself from grinning too wide whenever you were around him.
You tried to keep your relationship platonic, not wanting to get caught up in it because it was unprofessional. You didn’t even know his identity and you didn’t want to find out. You were afraid that once he revealed that part of his life to you there was no going back on your love for him.
So, you stayed friends, good friends.
***
“So, it all blew up in her face? Huh, I should say I’m surprised but I’m really not.” You said, sighing when Fury handed you the mission file that you had been working on for a year before handing it off to another agent.
“You get to relieve her of her duties and start working again. Effective as of next week.”
You were grinning now. The doctor had given you the all clear a month ago and you had been waiting for a mission to be handed off to you but it had been a quiet month, with no need for undercover or even recon missions.
To get back the mission that you lost when you got shot seemed like the best one to start off again, and you thought your day couldn’t get any better but it seemed like you were having an incredibly good day.
As soon as you exited the room, there stood Iron Fist in all his glory and your excitement got better of you. You bolted right into his arms, catching him off guard with a hug.
“Woah, did something happen?” He asked curiously but still wrapped his arms around you to return the hug. You pulled away, flashing him the mission file in your hand and grinned brightly.
“I finally got cleared for a mission!”
“Congratulations!”
“Thank you! I’m so excited! I have to go and prepare right away!”
“Wha—Right now?” He asked and you nodded frantically, “I’m off in about a week, lots to prepare before that.”
“Well, how long is it going to take?”
“Not sure, oooh, maybe I’ll get relocated someplace cool like Dubai or India or something.”
He didn’t seem to share your enthusiasm but just chuckled in a dejected sort of manner before nodding his head, “Maybe.”
***
“Partner? Fury, I don’t do partners. I am a single lady and would like to stay that way.”
He just sighed, used to your temper tantrums. Though he was honestly wishing he had a mute button on you. You were like the daughter he never wanted. Usually, he maintained a professional relationship with all the other agents but you were like the gem of the department.
Being one of the youngest and most capable of the agents was a reason for many of the older ones to fawn over you. I mean let’s be honest, a baby who can kick ass was adorable!
That always made you more outrageous than the other agents, letting yourself have the temper tantrums and choosing not to be a stiff, boring agent. You knew just how to push Fury to get what you wanted.
“The mission is to go to a socialite party and while you have the skills, you don’t have the contact.”
“That hasn’t stopped me before—”
“We need someone that has the last name to get you in. Besides, after last time, another agent looking after you wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”
Your face fell and Fury knew he made a mistake in choosing his words. Your lip quivered slightly and he heard an agent tut disapprovingly at him and mentally sighed.
“That wasn’t my fault...” You said softly, your voice seemed thick and he knew one wrong move could possibly break the floodgate. He sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “I know that. But we just want you to be safe. Just in case something goes wrong again, so this time somebody can have your back.”
You nodded sadly, lips in a small pout and eyebrows furrowed. Somewhere in the background he heard another agent whispering to another that Fury was trying to make you cry and felt his eye twitch.
“No one blames you for what happened.”
You nodded wordlessly again, still frowning.
“Tell you what, because it’s your first mission back, you get a higher budget for it.” That was it. Your face brightened like the sun and you giggled childishly, sending him a mischievous smirk as you thanked him.
You disappeared before he could even scold you and Fury then heard the rest of the agents burst into laughter about how you managed to play him.
Again.
***
“Daniel Rand.” You mumbled, looking over the case file. Apparently, he would be your partner for today but it was odd that you never heard of him before. It took you a very short time going through the S.H.I.E.L.D. database to find his name.
‘Daniel Rand, a.k.a. Iron Fist.’
‘WHAT?!’
Daniel Rand? The blond aristocrat that looked like he was picked out of your wildest dreams. With a face that could break hearts and make knees weak, was the confidant and friend that you had been crushing on for weeks now?
Wow, he definitely had a face to match.
Without realizing, you had been staring at his picture for about 5 minutes, fawning over his sharp jaw and deep green eyes with a ridiculous love-sick smile on your face, with your heart fluttering in your chest.
‘God, please, like me.’ You said in your head. So far you had sort of a flirtationship going on with Iron Fist but you wondered if it was the same for Danny. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would intentionally lead you on, but now that you were seeing his face, you realized just how little you knew about him.
He probably had a life of his own and you took up only a sliver of it. Being an agent, you didn’t leave the Helicarrier very often, and you certainly didn’t have too many very friends. You never really realized how much you were missing until you got shot.
Iron Fist, well Daniel, filled the void you felt during your time off but it was also very possible that he didn’t feel the same way, that you were just someone he spent time with to get over his boredom.
Maybe tonight would be the time to change that.
The mission was supposed to take place today, so you woke up bright and early to finish up some things. Go over case files, do a weapon check and pick out your outfit. You were supposed to wear something that would catch people’s attention. And in the back of your head, you also wanted to blow Daniel’s mind right out of his skull.
Red seemed like it would make a statement. So would a bodycon, or maybe a long dress with a high slit. You wanted to go all out for your first mission in months. Maybe even get a few jaw drops.
Finally deciding on an outfit, you quickly texted Daniel.
‘Wear (F/C).’
***
“This guy is coming right?” You asked, bored. You had been ready for about 15 minutes now, looking like you were dripping diamonds and lounging comfortably in Fury’s seat, with your legs thrown over the armrest.
“He’ll be here any minute now.” Said Coulson, checking his phone.
You rolled your eyes, “Why do I feel like this is one of those movie moments where the girl comes down the stairs and the guy is just staring at her with a jaw drop. Or like when the bride walks down the aisle and the groom bursts into tears.”
You sighed, checking your watch again. 20 minutes.
“For someone making me wait this long, he better be so good looking that it makes me cry.”
“Well, I hope I don’t disappoint.”
The new voice certainly turned a few heads and there stood Daniel Rand. The pictures online really did him no justice. Sure, you didn’t cry, but your eyes definitely didn’t feel worthy to be looking something so pretty in the eye.
Before you could help it, a ‘wow’ slipped past your lips and he blushed, having heard you. Wow, he was cute inside and out. Unfortunately, Coulson had to come in where he wasn’t wanted and suggested a quick briefing which you had to agree to.
In the middle of the briefing, Coulson handed you a ring box and you raised a brow, “I’m a little young for you, don’t you think?”
He let out an irritated sigh but you noticed the tips of his ears turn red from embarrassment, “You’re posing as his fiancé. You need an engagement ring to match.”
“Shouldn’t he be getting on his knee then?” You joked, gaping at the size of the diamond for a second before slipping it on, completely missing the way Danny got redder at your teasing, “Wow, it suits me so well one would think I was made to be a socialite’s fiancé.”
Danny didn’t say anything and you brushed it off, putting him off as the shy but cute bookworm who would come through in a difficult situation. As soon as the thought came to mind, you facepalmed. All it took was one good looking guy to mess up your work habits.
“Well, come on honey, we have a party to get to.” You called out teasingly and handed him the keys to the car before strutting to the garages.
Coulson clapped him on the back with a small smirk on his face, “Good luck, honey.”
***
It didn’t take much effort to meet your contact in the party and you quickly left Danny’s side to discreetly to get any information he could pass to you. You quietly chatted with the contact.
Behind you, you vaguely heard a bunch of girls flock around him, giggling shrilly and trying to flirt with him. You resisted rolling your eyes. You had on an engagement ring but Danny’s finger was still bare and even though he might have announced being taken to them, apparently it was necessary for a ring to show his commitment. Something told you that even if he got it tattooed on his forehead, people would still try to flirt with him.
He just had one of those faces. Those faces that made people lose all reason. I mean, you’re slightly annoyed at the girls that have no moral and are shamelessly throwing themselves at him. But really, can you blame them?
Danny was gorgeous. He looked like a Greek Adonis that was sent down from the heavens to grace your eyes. Honestly, you couldn’t take your eyes off him while the two of you were driving down to the party.
Seeing them get handsy was more irritating than It usually would be. As annoying as it was to see these women through all their morals out the window and try and get a taken man to reciprocate their advances, it was more annoying to see them gawk over the guy you were crushing on.
A part of you wanted to just leave him in the car and not have anybody look at him.
But to keep your crush a secret, you maintained your distance from him, talking to the contact in a mixture of different languages so no one would be able to understand. Once you were done, you opted for getting a drink until you saw the pleading look on his face and almost felt bad.
So, you sauntered over to him, cutting right through the throng of girls, disgusted to see that some of them had wedding rings on, right to Danny’s side, snaking an arm around his waist and placing your hand underneath on his chest, giving him a sweet smile.
The shiny engagement ring on your finger caught their attention and they frowned, reminded that they were allowed to look, but not to touch.
“I hope you didn’t miss me too much.” You said, syrupy sweet and loud enough for the girls to hear before turning to them with a charming smile, “I hope my fiancé wasn’t too short with you girls today, he’s very stressed lately, with the wedding planning and all.”
Their faces fell further when you leaned into him and they could all recognize the possessive glint in your eyes. A look that said, I saw you trying to get your hands on something that was mine, you vultures.
The left you two quickly after that, resorting to go gossip in some corner. You wondered if they were snivelling about you but then realized that you shouldn’t be too cocky.
Instead, you turned your unamused gaze to your ‘fiancé’, pulling away from him with a frown.
“I’m assuming that you haven’t come here to flirt with someone else’s wife.”
“I wasn’t flirting though...” He replied innocently and you pursed your lips, resisting the urge to scowl at him. Instead, you just sighed and turned away from him, keeping an eye on the rest of the guests.
If what you were told is true, then someone is going to attempt an assassination on your contact and it was your job to protect him. However, you were distracted once more when he placed a hand on your waist.
You meant to turn around and ask him what he was doing but his grip was strong and he then pressed his lips to your ear. You froze, neck getting uncomfortably hot.
“At the entrance to the foyer.” He mumbled, looking into the mirror that was facing the entrance. Sure, enough you saw it too, the glint that came from the shadows. Someone was there.
The two of you still managed to stay inconspicuous, pretending like you were a couple in love. You turned to him with a smirk, hand going to your thigh where a gun was holstered.
“What do you say about getting out of here?”
With a hand around your waist, he led you to the other end of the room. Just as you expected, a waiter came up to you, trying to guide you elsewhere and you realized that both exits were covered. Grinning up at him, you asked him where the restroom was, giggling in a way that suggested something and he showed you up to the staircase to a hallway. 
Some of the older couples gave you knowing smiles while some of them passed disgusted glances as you made your way to the bathroom that for some reason had a couch in it. Damn, rich people.
You pulled up a schematic of the house, along with security cameras and looked figured out that each one of the exits were covered. Quickly making a plan with Danny, the two of you were about to exit again when you stopped him
You reached up and raked your fingers through his hair, dishevelling it a little before messing up his collar and slightly untucking his shirt. Taking a step back to admire your handiwork, you stopped for a second.
Something was missing.
It quickly occurred to you and you used your thumb to ruin your lipstick a little before smearing it at the base of his neck, “That should be convincing enough. Don’t you think?”
You didn’t give him a moment to answer, not that he even could, with you so close that he could smell your perfume and the scent made him feel dizzy. You pulled away to mess up your own hair and dress.
“How do I look?”
“Dishevelled.”
“Excellent.”
***
“Mission successful, assassination attempt was unsuccessful, contact is safe and being placed into witness protection, assassinators are in custody for questioning. Report 291220. Agent 290803. Phase Beta successful.” You reported into the com set.
Danny was quiet beside you, choosing to pay attention to the road while you deactivated your gadgets for the night. A quick glance from the corner of your eyes made your heart speed up just a little. He was doing that thing where he drove with just one arm.
“You know...” You started, clicking the safety on your gun, avoiding his eyes, “We don’t have to go back to HQ right now? We can get some dinner or something? In the mood for a veggie burger?”
“Is this meant to be platonic?”
“It’s meant to be a date.” You commented. His jaw tightened slightly and you raised a brow at him, did you really make him so uncomfortable?
“I thought you were in a relationship.”
“What?”
“Iron Fist. You like him, don’t you?”
An amused chuckle left you. Of course. He didn’t know you were aware of his secret. Resisting the urge to laugh at him, you shot him a smirk, leaning against your arm.
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Danny’s hands tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. He didn’t look at you, instead staring at the road with a steely gaze and for a second you wondered if you shouldn’t have pushed him.
“It’s a little hypocritical of you to nag me for not being loyal in a fake engagement and then going behind Iron Fist’s back, don’t you think?”
His voice was tight and he was gritting his teeth as he talked to you. You sighed, not wanting to upset him, “Not when you’re the same person.”
He jerked.
“Woah! Drive straight dude!”
“You knew?”
You snorted, “Pretty much, yeah. And since when are we in a relationship? I don’t remember you ever asking me out?”
His cheeks coloured, embarrassed and he looked away from your gaze, “I was planning to.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
You continued in a comfortable silence while he drove. You weren’t really paying attention to where he was driving, choosing to look at him with a small smile. He really was beautiful. Judging by his red ears, he was well aware of your staring.
Eventually, he pulled into a parking space and you were mildly surprised to see he had driven you to a McDonalds. You grinned at him and he returned the smile, getting out of the car to open your door before taking your hand.
“You owe me a date.”
You sent him a soft smile, curling your finger underneath his chin before pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He returned it immediately, slightly pushing you onto the car door and gripping your hips. You pulled away, giggling when you realized some of your lipstick was now staining his.
Chuckling, you leaned up until your lips were brushing against his ear, “Hey genius, you still haven’t asked me out yet.”
Forever Taglist: @simonsbluee
USM Taglist: @imcarolinashannon
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solangelover · 3 years
Text
A Glowing Future
Submission by @satans-little-helper33
This piece takes place right after Nico’s final chapter at the end of Blood of Olympus.
Main Characters: Will Solace and Nico DiAngelo
Solangelo fluff
Nico’s encounter with Eros had cracked him wide open and left him feeling vulnerable and broken, forced to face his own reality and feelings, exposed in front of Jason; he was forced to share his darkest secret for a god’s amusement. Nico now knew he could trust Jason to keep it to himself, though, and he was beginning to realize that in order to crawl out of his self-constructed prison, his barriers first had to be torn down.
The feelings that had haunted him for so long—the shame, the fear, the denial—caused by the mentality of the 1940s he’d grown up in began to fade away. 
He was no longer that scared little boy who had been enraptured by the presence of a powerful demigod, and now that he had finally confessed his past feelings to Percy, Nico felt that he could finally move forward. 
Hades’s son made his way back down the hill to where Will was waiting for him, wearing scrubs,  jeans, and a crooked smile that made his heart skip a beat.
--------
“Sorry I didn’t come visit you in the infirmary,” Nico said, wearing the hint of a smile.
“It’s alright, I forgive you,” Will Solace said, his mouth set tight but laughter in his eyes, like he was trying to stay mad at Nico and failing.
“You wanted me to stay there--”
“For at least three days. Doctor’s orders.” Will started to lead Nico back toward the infirmary.
“Really, I’m Fine,” Nico began, but then his knees buckled and Will hoisted him back up.
“Uh huh. Right. Let’s get you to a bed.”
--------
Even after Coach Hedge’s nature magic/sports drink concoction, which had sustained Nico for a while, the arduous task of shadow-travelling the Athena Parthenos across the world had caught up with him again.
When Nico opened his eyes again, he was in the infirmary half sitting, half lying on a piece of furniture that was somewhere between a bed and a stretcher. 
“Welcome back to the world of the living,” a familiar voice intoned, “have some ambrosia.”
Will sat on a chair beside the bed; the room of the infirmary he was in was long and lined with similar bed-stretchers, separated by white curtains that shimmered in different colors when they were moved.
Several other beds were occupied with demigods sporting now-relatively-minor injuries left over from the battle with Gaia and the monster army: a daughter of Hecate 2 beds over was glaring at her leg in a cast as if she was insulted by the inconvenience.
Nico turned back to Will, and noticed that beside the bed there was a small table with a baggie of ambrosia squares on it. Nico reached out to pick one up but encountered a familiar problem: his fingers passed right through the baggie and ambrosia, as if he was becoming one with the shadows permanently. His hand appeared fuzzy around the edges, as if he was dissolving.
“Uhh, maybe if I try again--”
Will frowned, then sighed. “This is what happens when you overextend yourself. Here, let me help you.” He picked up a square and held it out to feed Nico.
Nico leaned back. “What are you doing?”
“No arguing. Open up.” Solace said, his tone making it clear that he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
Will took none of Nico’s shit. That was one of the things Nico found most endearing and annoying about him; no matter how hard the son of Hades tried to push him away, Will simply refused to let him.
Nico took the ambrosia, and after a few moments they looked back at his hand, which seemed to be coming back into sharper focus.
“You had me worried there, diAngelo,” Will said, smiling, and briefly gripped his hand to check if it was now solid. Day of the Dead skeletons tapped out a jig in Nico’s chest.
“You were worried...about me?” Nico said, still wrapping his mind around the fact that Will had wanted a death demigod to visit him in the infirmary.
“Get some sleep.” he said, closing the ziplock bag.
“I’m not tired.” 
“Well you will be in a second. CLOVIS,” he called out. The calf-like son of Morpheus appeared around the corner and Will told him “we’ve got another stubborn one,” throwing a teasing smile Nico’s way.
Clovis yawned. “I’m all over it,” he said, and--despite Nico’s protests--touched his forehead. The son of Hades drifted off into a deep sleep.
----------------------------------
Nico awoke feeling more rested than he had in weeks. 
He quickly sat up, suddenly worried, because the last time he’d felt this rested, he’d been asleep for three days.
Nico stopped a passing Apollo healer. 
“How long have I been out??”
The healer scratched his chin, trying to estimate. “About 6 hours?” He walked off.
Will walked into the infirmary, arguing with a Demeter camper; something about herbs and supplies? He turned and spotted Nico.
“Well, good evening, sleepyhead! How was your nap? Feeling better?”
“I think 6 hours is slightly more than a nap.” Nico retorted.
“Well, count yourself lucky that Clovis has learned to control his powers better. A while ago he put a camper out for a week by accident.” Will made his way toward him. “Can you stand?”
“Um, let’s find out.” Nico swung his legs over the bed and got up. Aside from stumbling a little, he was feeling much better. Nico marvelled at the healing powers of sleep.
As if he read his mind, Will said, “Oh yeah, sleep has endless benefits.”
Nico twisted his skull ring. “Hey, I came in here at about noon, which means--”
 The conch horn signalling the dinner feast echoed across the valley. Will grinned. “I think that’s our cue.”
--------
The Half Blood campfire that night still carried with it an aura of elation spurred from disbelief, that they had won the battle against Gaia and made allies with the Romans, and a sort of desperation to feel alive brought about by all of those who had died in the process. Nico felt a pang for Leo, though he had a strange feeling that his death wasn’t as straightforward as it seemed.
Will sat by him at the bonfire, the Apollo cabin on his left and Nico on his right, leaving Nico unsure as to whether Will had sat next to him or his cabin. He chastised himself for hoping that it was the former.
The enchanted flames in the brazier blazed brightly with the energy of the campers, and Nico felt the warmth flare in his heart as he cast a glance at the son of Apollo, the light from the fire reflecting off of his blonde hair. 
--------
Nico lay in his bunk that night after the campfire, staring up at the ceiling of the Hades cabin that was inset with precious stones. He quickly realized that there was no way he was falling asleep any time soon, and he climbed out of bed. The whole room was drenched in liquid shadows, and despite his exhaustion after the journey shadow travelling with the Athena Parthenos, Nico stepped forward and became one with the darkness with ease.
  He melted from the shadow of a tree, finding himself by the lakeside at the edge of Camp Half-Blood. A full moon cast a pale glow on the night. Nico walked down to the sand and sat down; the silence was intoxicating, and Nico closed his eyes and listened to the gentle lapping of small waves against the shore. Suddenly he felt something nearby, heard the brush rustle, and wondered whether the cleaning harpies had come to eat him for being out past curfew. Nico drew his Stygian sword, which seemed to pull at the darkness like a magnet, and got ready to defend himself. What actually emerged from the brush was Will, who abruptly spotted Nico’s sword and laughed quietly. 
“Expecting a fight?”
Nico quickly sheathed his sword. “What are you doing out here?” He noticed for the first time that Will had something in his hands.
He held up two goblets. “Mind if I join you?”
Will was the only one at camp who was not blatantly wary of him; after several years as an outcast, the effect felt foreign.
Will sat down next to the son of Hades and spoke to one of the goblets--“Pomegranate juice”--and handed it to Nico as the cup filled with garnet liquid. 
“Are these--” Nico began.
“Glasses from the dining pavilion? Yeah. I snuck a couple out before dinner ended.” He wore his trademark mischievous smile. “I noticed you asked for pomegranate juice at dinner.” Nico felt his face grow warm as Will turned to his own cup and requested ginger beer. Soon the glass was filled with amber.
“It...reminds me of my mom.” Nico said quietly. “Not Persephone, ironically. When Bianca, my mom, and I...” his voice caught on Bianca’s name “when we lived in New Orleans, I was little, but I remember her giving us pomegranate juice on special occasions. It was a tough thing to find where we lived, so she would only have it on celebrations or...when my dad came to visit. I was just a baby when she was murdered.”
He stared down in silence at his drink.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know. Bianca, your mom, none of it,” Will said gently.
“I know,” Nico muttered, his voice nonetheless doubtful.
Will placed his hand on Nico’s, and he tensed, ready to pull away, but then instead turned his palm up to hold Will’s. 
Nico turned his head to look up at Will, his pale blue eyes shining in the moonlight, almost periwinkle, an indiscernible expression on his face.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Will murmured, his gaze taking Nico in. Will looked into his dark eyes as if he could perceive all of him, good and bad, and was still enraptured by what he saw. 
Will reached out hesitantly, as if to touch Nico’s face, but stopped before, gaging his reaction, and when the son of Hades didn’t pull away, he brushed the ink-black hair out of his face.
Involuntarily, Nico’s eyes closed and his heart began to race. His life had, for years, been spent more with the dead than the living. No one had touched him tenderly for what felt like eons, not since Bianca, and only now did he realize how starved for physical affection he had been. Not just starved, he thought to himself, afraid of it… 
And in that moment he decided that he was not going to be afraid anymore.
  Will’s gaze moved from Nico’s eyes to his lips, and he leaned in carefully as if approaching a wild animal. Nico closed the distance, and as their lips met, his life bloomed before him like a chrysanthemum opening layer by layer. Suddenly Nico could see a future before him that wasn’t ruled by death and solitude. 
Unnoticed by either of them, a dead mouse at the edge of the forest was brought back to life and scampered off into the trees.
 - Alya
@satans-little-helper33
My writing blog: @from-story-to-screen
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writingsfromhome · 3 years
Text
Winner’s Choice
A/N: I only have series-type ideas in mind, so I’m trying to write out short one-shot type fics instead just to pump the breaks a little. Any ideas are welcome but here’s my go at this: you lost a drinking contest to Harry and winner decides a tattoo for the loser...
--------------
"3...2...1...GO!"
I lift the mug to my face and down the beer, ignoring how it splashes over the new top I had worn today. I should've know going out with Harry & Co meant I was getting messy.
Just a second apart, I slam my mug down.
"That was Harry!" The crowd shouts. "Harry's won!"
"It was tied!" I try to shout, ignoring Harry's smug face as his ego rises with the crowd's voice.
"I say rematch!" I shout.
"Don't be a sore loser, love!" Harry shouts at me. I stick my tongue out and hold my empty mug up, declaring louder I wanted a rematch. My swimming head tries to reason with me that it may not be a good idea but I needed to redeem myself.
Harry and I were good friends, I worked as an actor in the industry he dabbled in. And when he laughed at a stupid joke I made one day a few years ago, I'd latched onto him and we'd just become part of each other's lives since.
I moved across the pond from my childhood town in Maine when I turned 21 for an acting job, and have stayed since flitting from role to role. I missed my family and friends but moving here was also the best thing I did for myself. It did get lonely...which was why meeting Harry was also one of the best things to happen to me. Over the first year of knowing him, his friends became my friends and vice versa. I called them all Harry& Co. especially when I was drunk, all their faces blurred into each other and there were too many of them. Except for Harry. His face always stood out from a crowd. Being around him usually cured the ache I had for home.
"If I go again, you've got to put something on the table." Harry finally agrees. The crowd shouts out inappropriate things I could put down and I flip them off. I catch my friend's eye and she gives me a cautious look but I shake my head. I was having fun tonight.
"Loser gets a tattoo of the winner's choice. Tonight." Harry announces and the group goes crazier. My own mouth drops. I had to win this, knowing Harry he would do something ridiculous like his face on my ass. And this was the first time I lost to Harry, I could do this.
"Deal," I shake on it.
"Wait!" My friend tries to reason with us but we pull our mugs supplied by the crowd, closer to us.
"3...2...1...Go!"
I black out downing it but somehow, Harry's mug clashes down millisecond before mine does. A silence descends the room before Harry laughs. And suddenly everyone is shouting, cheering, throwing out tattoo ideas, and one voice is just shouting long live Harry over and over.
"I...." my mouth doesn't close on it's own, I lost. I rarely lost a drinking contest. But...Harry had me beat.
"Fair and square," Harry maneuvers around the table to sit beside me.
"I lost." I say, dumbstruck.
"It happens to the best of us, eventually." Harry kisses my cheek before jumping up and taking my hand. "Celebration dance."
I let him drag me to the dancefloor, trying to bring my mind back to reality. I was going to get a tattoo. My first. "Harry-Harry!" I try to get his attention. "Nothing ridiculous?"
"No promises," he winks. The alcohol sloshes in my brain as he pulls me into him and moves from side to side.
"Harry!" I shout out.
"You'll see," he grins, enjoying my torture way too much. "Just dance now."
His voice in my ear tickles, and I feel fluttery, far away. Some part of me knows that sober me was going to be pissed at drunk me.
I dance with Harry, following his lead, eventually drifting off to my friends, some strangers, and back to him.
"Should we get that tattoo now?" Harry says in my ear then.
"Maybe..." I try to put on my best convincing voice on. "We should wait for tomorrow."
"Nope!" Harry shouts gleefully. "Let's go now!"
"Nothing's open!" I shout but I was lying and he doesn't believe me for a second. I sigh, and find my friends to say goodbye. They try to tell me I didn't have to follow through but I know Harry would get this done one way or another. I may as well get it done while I was drunk and blame it on that.
The cold outside reminds me I left my coat inside, and when I come back out Harry's jumping up and down to keep warm. It makes me laugh but he quickly tugs on my arm. We run to stay warm towards wherever he decided this was going to happen.
It's a few blocks away, a sterile looking place with crazy colours on the walls that I realise are tattoo designs. The warmth inside the studio makes me shiver and Harry wraps his arm around me as we walk through.
"Harry nothing unprofessional please? I don't want to get fired from a job I don't even have." The cold air had sobered me up a bit and I was starting to regret this even more.
"Don't you trust me?" He asks with a glint to his eye that I didn't trust. "Wait here."
I sit down while he goes to talk to the artist, showing her his phone, pointing to various parts of his body.
"Y/N! Come on!"
I drag my feet over and glare at him as I settle in.
"You'll have to take your shirt off," Harry lets me know.
"You're picking where I get it too?" I ask.
"That's part of the deal!"
"I should've read the fine print," I grumble. Harry shows the artist the side of my rib cage-my shirt was still on but his finger traces a small curve up and down where he wants to place it. It sends butterflies to my stomach.
"Okay," I grab his hand so he could stop doing that. It wasn't helping my nerves. "Let's get this over with. But you can't stay."
"Yes I can," Harry insists. "I make up the rules."
"If I have to take my shirt off, he goes." I look at the girl giving me my tattoo and she shrugs, looking over at Harry. He sighs but agrees.
I take my shirt off and have to hike my bra strap higher, ready to settle into the torture.
"Please tell me it's nothing crude? His face included? Or a stupid message like Y/N hearts Harry?"
The artist laughs, "I'm not allowed to tell you anything apparently but from one girlfriend with a crazy boyfriend to another. It's not. Don't worry, just relax."
I try to tell her Harry wasn't my boyfriend but she turns away and I decide it wasn't worth it. I'd explained that a million times to my own mom who always asked if we'd gotten together yet. It was embarassing, my family back home was convinced we were having a secret affair. I stopped wasting my breath nowadays.
"So, do you get this kind of request often?" I try to make small talk.
"More than you think," the cold of whatever she spreads on my skin makes me shiver. I sort of wish Harry was here, to keep me distracted. I pull my phone out and text him.
"I'm back," his head pops in a few minutes later. The tattoo artist looks to me to make sure I was okay.
"Just talk your usual shit so I don't have to think about what I agreed to," I call out. He sits beside me but he falls silent. When I lift my head to look at him, he's staring at me. "Hey!"
"Sorry, I was thinking about the other tattoos I'm going to beat you into getting."
I roll my eyes, but my skin warms under his gaze. "I'm never agreeing to something like this ever again. You got me while I was weak."
"I'll convince you to get another tattoo again," Harry rolls closer to me. He rests his arms on my leg and leans his head on it.
"My leg's going to fall asleep," I warn him.
"Then we'll put another tattoo there," he smiles.
And back and forth we go, he keeps me distracted, and for the most part, the tattoo process is okay. I'm barely listening as she begins to tell me about its aftercare, she'd already said she would give me a pamphlet and Harry had plenty experience, I could ask him.
"Do you want to see it before I wrap it up?" She asks me. From what I felt, it was at least a few inches long and a bigger tattoo was too scary for me to think about.
"I need something to drink before I look at it," I say. "But I know if I don't like it it's his fault not yours."
"You'll love it," Harry pulls me to him and presses a wet kiss to my cheek. I push him away aggressively and agree to be bandaged. I tell Harry he owed me a few beers before I looked at it and he agrees. He purchases some on our way back to my place along with some food. The train ride home is mostly filled with him gloating but I suffer through it, imaging the worst case scenarios.
Back at my place, I stand in front of the full length mirror in my room, deathly afraid. I had waited nervously, threw back a couple of beers and shoved excessive pizza in my mouth. Harry seems more excited than me for the reveal and finally he joins me upstairs.
"So?" He asks, eyes on me in the mirror.
"Fine." I decide. I peel my shirt off slowly and Harry helps, I try to ignore the way my knees turn into jello at the sight of him doing that. "Fine."
My bra is crooked and I act as casual as possible that Harry is still standing behind me. I slowly peel the bandaging off, Harry comes around to help. I close my eyes as he finishes and count to three in my head. When I see it, my heart stops.
"Do you like it?" Harry asks like a kid on Christmas morning. He's buzzing with nervous excitement but all I can do is stare at the simple tattoo as my heart swells.
A few inches big, covering the side of my ribcage, is a twig of wild blueberries: a symbol of home.
"How did you..." I'm at a loss for words. My first tattoo. I just got my first tattoo, and it was...perfect.
"Well, you're always taking about how you miss home. And you rarely get to go back because of your schedule. And I looked up the official things for Maine, didn't think you wanted a moose so I-"
I shut him up by kissing him; that was the only possible response to this. He'd tricked me into getting the most perfect tattoo and if I was ever unsure before I was sure now that I loved Harry Styles. He knew me. His choice of tattoo made that clear. And I loved him.
"Woah," Harry steadies my shoulders when we part.
"It's perfect," I say, feeling tears well up in my eyes. "I don't know what else to say."
"I should've got you a tattoo a long time ago," he says before kissing me again. I could do this forever, I think, as I bury my hands in his hair.
His hand brushes the open tattoo and I flinch. It didn't hurt, but it was slightly sore.
"Sorry," he apologises against my lips. "We should probably take care of that."
"Ugh, wait." I kiss him one last time. "Where's that info sheet-"
"It's okay, c'mon." He leads me into the bathroom and sits me down on the countertop. I watch as he carefully washes his hands and washes the area. He knows where everything is. His face is scrunched in concetration as he washes and dries it. I marvel at how the evening started with his chaotic public personality to this gentle version here.
"This is gonna be cold," he warns before applying jelly over the whole thing. "Don't sleep on this side."
"I won't. I don't really plan on sleeping at all," I grab his shirt and pull him back up to me. I feel him smile as I kiss him, and he pushes me as far back as I can go before I hit the mirror behind me. I can tell he wanted this as bad as I did, and if it weren't for the tattoo we would be a roughened jumble on my bed right now.
"Bad night for a tattoo," he rests his forehead on mine.
"A tattoo can't stop me," I say. "Let's go." I lead him back to my bed and unclasp my bra. "I probably shouldn't be wearing this anyway."
"Fuck," Harry's mouth hangs open but before I can grow self conscious, he strides over and crashes into me. He doesn't bother with holding back, although he avoids my right side. But it doesn't even matter as I simultaneously forget every sense I have and feel every single nerve in my body at the same time as he takes me to bed.
After, when we lay facing each other on the bed, Harry uses his finger to trace my face. When he reaches my mouth, I kiss his finger. "Thanks. Tonight was...great."
"If you think tonight was great, wait until your tattoo heals." He swipes down my nose.
"I was only talking about the tattoo," I tease. "The rest of the night was...okay."
"Okay?" He immediately perches up.
"Yeah. Like...a 6 out of 10?"
He turns on his back and laughs, "You're in so much trouble. You better watch what you say next!"
"I'm not afraid of you--you had your chance with the tattoo and you chose something lovely."
He turns back to me, pressing a kiss to my lips. "You have to trust me."
"I do...usually." I smile. Harry rests his hand on my hip and zones out, his mind elsewhere. The silence stretched out and I can't help but ask.
"So...tonight isn't like, a one time thing right?" I was going to wait to ask but my nerves needed to be soothed. I also didn't want things between Harry and I to be in a gray area. He meant too much to me.
"No, unless...you want it to be?"
"No!" I nearly shout. "Only the tattoo part. Everything else, I'd like again."
"Okay, good." He slides closer to me under the duvet. "Because I wouldn't mind putting a label on this and-"
"Done." I say, not caring how eager I sounded because the grin that splits his face shows the same eagerness.
I mentally apologise to all the people I scolded who asked when Harry and I would get together. As I nuzzle my head into his chest, and he drapes his arm around me, I just think about how right it feels and why I didn't do it sooner. Tonight was a crazy night of bad decisions but every single outcome was perfect.
"I love you Y/N," Harry says after a while, I thought he'd already fallen asleep. I peek out from my position and his eyes are closed. I wait a moment but they remain closed.
I snuggle back in and suppress the urge to squeal. This night felt too good to be real, like I would wake up tomorrow morning and realise it was all a drunk-hallucination. And on the off chance that might be true, I wrap myself tighter against him and whisper the words back, hoping that he was awake enough to hear them.
When his arms tighten around me, I fall asleep happy, knowing he knows too. Maybe tomorrow morning, I would say it again.
173 notes · View notes
mommymooze · 3 years
Text
Dreaming of a Different Day
Reader, Fe3h Characters, Modern AU
Blood, gore, fighting, dead bodies, homework, sweating
7986 words
Working night shift at a gas station isn’t the most glorious job, but it helps pay the bills while you are trying to complete your degree at college. Determined to graduate without getting buried under an insurmountable amount of student debt, you work two jobs, sometimes three, even if it means taking 10 years to get a 4 year degree. Scoring a job in building maintenance for the college certainly helps with getting reduced fees on classes and books. Between two current jobs and classes or study time, there isn’t much time to sleep. Sometimes you volunteer your body as a lab rat for some of the studies done at the university, if you can work them in to your hectic schedule. This time they want to study your brain while you sleep. Getting paid to sleep? Sign me up!
Filling your 32oz. thermal bucket with coffee, you head out to catch a bus to campus. You have about an hour to study before you make it to the appointment at the psychology building.
An alarm sounds on your phone, time to pack up to make it to your appointment on time. Stashing your laptop and books into your backpack you head up the stairs to the third floor. Opening the door, you see a sleepy looking green haired student gathering forms together and stapling them into packets, placing them into manila folders.
“I’m here for the 8:00am appointment.” You announce.
He hands you a folder and a pen, telling you to fill out the paperwork and return them to him when complete.
You fill out the forms completely and honestly. Your sleep schedule is hell, you sleep when you can, mostly during daylight hours. You don’t recall any of your dreams or nightmares. No drinking or drugs. No sense in lying on these forms, they’ll find out if you’re trying to say something to please them or force yourself into their study group. Forms complete, you place them on the front desk as the young man nods.
Returning to your table you pull out your laptop and begin working on homework. You notice someone is standing in front of you.
A tall young woman with short blonde hair smiles at you, asking you to follow her. You grab your things, she leads you to a small room with a bed and several different machines, some on tables, some freestanding.
She tells you to change into a hospital gown, tie in the front because they need to attach some wires for monitoring. Most of the wires are attached to your head. She tells you the liquid they use to have it stick to your head is easily washed out of your hair. Once you are fully wired, she leaves and comes back with the fluffiest, warmest blanket you have ever felt and wraps it around you leading you to the bed. She asks if you want a sleep mask to block out the light and you do. The hum of the machines, the darkness and the fluffy warm blanket are enough to get you to fall asleep quite quickly.
A soft alarm goes off and you hear the voice of the green haired man asking you what you remember. You stay still, thinking. You recall walking down a corridor, speaking with other people. They are dressed differently. Maybe wearing a school uniform? You were carrying a book headed to…you can’t remember. It is strange, why suddenly have a dream here of all places? Taking the mask from your eyes you look to see him writing. He finishes his notes and leaves muttering a soft “Thank you.”
The wires are removed, you are told to change back into your regular clothes. They will message you if you will be chosen for further study. Handing you an envelope full of cash you head out the door, just in time to make it to your class.
Classes done for the day. You are mopping the floors of the student housing building 3. Yet another party to clean up after. Sure, you could notify the RA’s and make the other students do it, but they would make more mess and take too long. It is easier to simply clean it up yourself. Giving the floor a final mop, you shriek as someone steps behind you and taps on your shoulder.
“Hey, sorry we made so much mess for you.” A handsome male with dark hair, darker skin and brilliant green eyes smiles at you.
“No prob. No mess, no job, right?” You answer. They always show up when the work is about done.
“Can I interest you in some cake? We have some left.” He gestures with his hand open towards you.
“Nope. Smelled it too long cleaning it from floor vents.” You keep swiping the mop back and forth, then dunking it in your soapy bucket, squeezing it out and slapping it back on the floor.
Claude attempts to introduce himself. “Claude Riegan, Senior, Political Science.”
You answer in a monotone voice, “I am the janitor.“
“Hah.” He forces a laugh. “I’ve seen you in the halls here and there. You’re a student as well.”
You shrug, going to the closet to dump out your bucket. “Gotta run. Bldg 2 calls.”
He smiles and waves, you sort of wave back.
Work complete you head back to the smaller than an efficiency apartment you rent. Hotplate, and microwave for cooking, it has a half bath so you wash in a plastic tub. One small room for everything, no closets. Everything you own is in labeled tubs. No windows, but there is a door that locks.
You work on homework until your brain is fried. Collapsing on your bed you set an alarm, plug in your phone and laptop and sleep for a few hours before you have to get up for work tonight at the gas station.
Making it to class 5 minutes early you haul your bucket of coffee with a straw in it to your seat. Did you see that Claude guy in the halls? He likes yellow shirts. Both times you saw him in that color.
Today you listen to the lecture while looking around the room. Most of the time you take notes but you know this particular subject well. There’s a guy with light green hair and glasses to the right. Why does he look familiar? Have you seen him in a class before? You recognize the emo guy in front with a brown haired girl always huddled together. Oh no. The horrendous heartbreaker is here. Who doesn’t know about him? How many messes of his have you cleaned up because he’s dumped a girl and she resorted to violence and damaged school property? At least 100. You had no idea he was in your class. You lift up a book to block his direct view of your face. Perhaps you can remain nonexistent to him.
The professor ends the lesson. You note the work to be turned in, due date, assigned reading. Just as you’re about to finish tossing everything into your bag, you get a text. The psych guys want you for another sleep study. You tell them you can daytime sleep Tues or Thurs or Fri til 5. Great. They take all 3.
Cool. You may actually have some free cash for a few weeks. Maybe you can splurge on new shoes.
Monday night at the gas station is quiet. They usually are. Coffee keeps you coherent enough to make correct change and clean things properly. You have enough time to get home, clean up and hit the psy lab by 6am. They are to wake you 2 so you can make your class in plenty of time.
Mercie is the girl that wires you up to the machines. She hands you the sleep mask and fluffy blanket. It doesn’t take you long to go to sleep having come off your caffeine high a couple hours ago.
The alarm goes off and you bolt upright to a seated position in the bed, gasping for breath.
“Tell me quickly.” The green haired man encourages you to speak.
“I was fighting for my life. There was a battle. It was primitive. There were swords and long spears and huge axes with blades bigger than your head. A woman had fire coming from her fingers killing a man. I could smell his flesh burning. I stabbed bad people with my spear. I had to help my friends. We were fighting…um…a gang? thieves? They were hurting people nearby. My friend was hit by a spear and I killed the guy that hit him. Then I was…touching my friend’s stab wound. Light came from my fingers and I watched the hole in his side close up.” You sat there, staring at your hands. They were your hands but no longer covered in blood. You were grimacing as hard as you were in the dream, concentrating on your hands. But they did not glow.
“What else? What about the land?” His disinterested voice demands more.
“It was in a wild undeveloped area. No buildings. Just trees and rocks and bushes. We were fighting our way up a hill. Some of us going up one side, some going the other. I could hear them fighting on the other side of the hill. We were going to meet at the top. I couldn’t wait to see the leader, I kept looking for her blue hair. I knew she was the best fighter ever and would do everything to keep us safe.”
“Anything else?” His last follow up question.
“It’s faded a lot now. So much blood everywhere. The smells, they were awful. Metal banging on metal was so loud.”
He stands and stretches. “Thank you.” He says as he closes the door behind him.
You get dressed and grab your stuff heading for your afternoon class. Why are you suddenly dreaming? You don’t remember dreaming much before since you were a kid. This was a nightmare. You didn’t drink anything. You had slept over 7 hours, that’s the longest you’ve slept in…months? If the nightmares keep up, you’re not sure this is worth the extra cash.
After class you head home. You don’t feel as exhausted as you normally do, so you work ahead on a class or two. Most of the time homework can be done while you’re at the gas station counter.
Class in the morning is boring. Only a few more weeks to suffer before you get a break. Heading home you lay in your bed. You want to sleep. You really, really do. But now you’re afraid if you close your eyes, will the dreams continue? You grab your accounting book and start reading. You wake up with your alarm going off so you can get ready to head to work tonight. You do not dream, not even a about spreadsheets.
Work is uneventful. Mostly the same people coming in to buy the same things. Taking deliveries of different foods and replacing the purchased items on the shelves. Completing homework as time allows. Finally, it is time to clock out as the next shift comes in to deal with the daytime crowd.
You hit the bus, get to your room, swap out what you don’t need with what you do, toss your backpack on and head out to the Psych lab. You’re wired up and under the blanket. You feel a bit anxious about sleeping, however it is totally dark and the humming of the machines soon overtakes your thoughts and you fall asleep.
You awaken to hear the same guy as before asking you to talk.
Not opening your eyes you go through what happened.” There was a battle but not a real battle. Everyone is fighting but you aren’t really trying to kill each other. The weapons are fake. The magic is real but not seriously real. It reminds me of watching football practice. Each team wore their colors and are trying to beat up the others. The yellow team wins and everyone goes to a party. The blue haired leader lady said I had done a great job. She asks me to have tea and wants to talk about joining her house. Is she leading a fraternity? I woke up as I was helping clean up the mess after the party.”
“Tell me where this happened.” He asks.
“Well, the battle was on a big open field. There was a hill that someone could pull a lever and fire stuff at others. Scattered clumps of trees here and there, where some people would hide. It was a long walk to get to the field there. When walking I spoke with a grayish haired guy that would talk about stories he read about knights and do gooders. Oh, and on a big hill were three people with bright green hair. A man, woman and a younger shorter girl. They were watching. But they did not go to the party after. The party was in the dining area back at the school.”
You’re dressed, your hair feels sticky, so you put on a baseball cap with the university logo on it and head to your janitorial job. Mind numbing floor sweeping, mopping, and emptying trashcans fills your night. You are glad you had a good sleep at the psych lab, because it’s a short night tonight after getting off at 3am and having a class again at 8am the next day, you make it, like any other college student.
Grabbing something awful to eat after class, you head back to the third floor in the psych building for the last sleep of this week.
You wake up completely and totally freaked out. What a nightmare. Walking forever in the rain until you are soaked through, your skin all cold and wrinkly, and now you go into the creepy tower with the rest of the Blue Lions. You’re on the blue team. An older woman is the teacher, you wish you had the blue haired lady, she was so awesome.
Everyone creeps around and around going up higher in the tower while bad guys are firing arrows and popping out of hidden spaces. You remember using magic. You concentrated and this circle with marks on it appeared in your vision and next thing you know you shot lightning out of your fingers at a monster. A horrifying monster. It used to be a mean ugly guy but he changed and got big and evil looking, like a T-rex heavy on the claws and teeth. Everyone is fighting for their lives.
The worse part is one of them was his brother and had to get something back for his family. There was so much blood. Everyone was freaked out, especially the guy that killed his brother. It was horrible. By the time you finished talking to Linny, you were shaking and holding yourself. He just kept saying it was only a dream and told you that you would be fine.
You head to classes trying to best to concentrate.
Normally the job of polishing floors is nice. The machine does all of the work, you just change out the heads to clean then polish. The hallways here lead to rooms that have been reset for a large Art show presenting the student’s works. Many of the students are in your way, hauling in stands and setting up displays of their work. You keep looking down, studying the polishing machine. You can’t look at most of the artwork it, reminds you of the monsters you’ve dreamed of, or swords, or there is blood everywhere. What happened to fields of flowers? Paint a bowl of fruit or something bland.
You clock out at 3 am, head back to your room and crash burying yourself under a ton of blankets. One class today then you don’t have to be back to the university until 6pm. You need to hide in your bed. You are mentally exhausted. You need to sleep, so you down some cold medicine and it knocks you out.
Sleep is not kind. You aren’t in the lab, you are in the safety of your own bed. The dreams, okay, nightmares continue. Some girl is missing. Everyone is trying to find her. The Blue Lions leave to find some item and fight monsters, when you come back they found her, some other gal that was missing, and a creepy skeleton looking guy on a horse fought them in the basement. Ugh. You remember that head someone had on a stand in the art class, with the red glowing eyes. At least before you woke up you remember having tea with the blue haired professor and you agreed to join her group. She also gives you nice flowers for your birthday. You wake up just after tea was over.
You’ve never dreamed before. What the hell. You aren’t getting paid to dream at home. You don’t want this. What can of worms have they opened on you? You want your regular dreamless close your eyes, sleep, open them and go again. Not running miles and chasing horrible things and stabbing stuff and getting hurt and bleeding.
After class this morning the library is your destination today. Gotta get some references and info for a class. You stop by a quicky mart on the way. Need coffee. You’re not one of those fancy coffee kids, just creamer and go. You could care less what mountain they grew the coffee on as long as it is caffeine and keeping you awake.
Filling your cup with the elixir of consciousness, you see a girl with purple hair having problems with the whipped cream function of the expensive coffee and creamer dispenser.
You walk up to her. “Hey Bernie, want me to help?”
“Sure.” The girl says still punching buttons.
You fiddle with the machine knowing how temperamental they can be and get plenty of whip cream on top of her coffee.
She looks at me to say thank you, drops her books and screams. “Who are you? I don’t even know you!”
You shove a lid on her cup and put it in her hands. “Take your coffee.” Picking up her books, you stuff them in her arms. You head for the checkout. Your brain is confused too. You don’t know her, but she’s in the dreams and it’s her, Bernadetta.
Heading to the library you pull out your laptop and begin working on a project for class. You keep your head down, concentrate you keep telling yourself, but pieces of the dreams creep up on you every time you try to focus. Writing a few sentences, you click on an arrow on your laptop screen. You remember Bernie shooting arrows and she’s an amazing archer along with Ignatz. They love to paint. You wonder what it would look like if they did something together.
Concentrate. Fingers on the keyboard. The page is filling with text, the project is coming along. You need to find another book for reference. Signing into the library website you search for its location. You find the book and take it back to your seat. Flipping through it you find the section you want. Inside there is a postit note:
“Don’t bother with this. It’s wrong. See…” It lists a book you passed on, thinking this would be better. Perhaps the mysterious postit writer has been through this class and is saving everyone else from the same headaches. Nice. You get up and trade out books. This one does have exactly what you are looking for and your project speeds forward. You flip through the book once you’re finished with its contents and surprise! Another postit. “Bonus: Check out…”
You are enraptured, of course you go to find the next book. It is even better than the last one. The section related to your task has a note. “BTW, don’t quote that last book, Prof hates it. Do this instead. The curious get the rewards!” OMG. This is the greatest stuff. But the game is over, no more notes, you even check behind the last one. It did keep you entertained and focused though, a great help or you may have never finished this.
Saving everything and backing it up onto the cloud you have enough time to toss your stuff into the employee lockers and get your janitorial getup on. Baseball cap and earbuds in, it’s time for 8 hours of cleaning up after everyone else.
Building 3 is the party hub of the campus. At least they cleaned up some of the party decor, floor vents contain no cake, but they still leave a mess. You have to wash down the walls.
About 1:30am a dark haired guy with a ponytail comes in all frazzled asking if I’ve seen a red headed guy passed out somewhere. Nope. We both check the balcony and there he is out on a plastic chair. It is heartbreaker Sylvain.
You ask for help picking him up to get him to a standing position. You tell his buddy to hold him still. Throwing your right shoulder into his crotch you grab his left arm and throw it over your opposite shoulder. Sylvain is now up over your shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
His buddy gets the door and elevator for you. When the door opens there is a wheelchair close by and you dump Sylvain into it.
“How’d you know how to do that?” His friend asks.
“I’ve carried him before.” You answer as you help wheel Sylvain to the car. You help pour him into the front seat and reach over the seatbelt to his friend.
“Good luck. He’s your problem now.” You mutter as you turn around and head back to work.
At least this time he wasn’t bleeding you think. Wait. You’ve carried Sylvain before, during a fight. To get him to safety. That was Felix who came to get him. When you carried him, you were in leather gear and had more muscles. It reminds you of highschool wrestling. You did that for a few years. It felt so right doing that, but this college doesn’t have women’s wrestling, so you left it behind. It was how you got the job in janitorial because you are a female that can lift and move heavy weights, doing it the right way and not getting hurt.
Finishing your shift it is early Sunday morning. You go home, sleep, and dream.
You’re playing chess with Hubert. You’re beating him and he is pissed. He threatens you with cheating, distracting him, etc. You laugh at him. He’s always threatening someone or something.
Byleth comes in and ends the game. You head to a war meeting with the rest of the Black Eagles Strike force. Now that Byleth has returned Edelgard wants to recapture the great bridge at Myrddin.
After the meeting you head out to the training area for magic users. Warming up with a few Thunder spells, you work through Thoron then Bolting. The magic flowing through you feels amazing, you are one with the forces of nature.
You can feel the cold flowing from your fingertips as you cast blizzard at a target. Casting Fimbulvetr you watch as a solid ice grows around and surrounds the target.
Taking a few cleansing breaths, you then cast sagittae, the arrows breaking chunks of ice off of the target. Agnea’s Arrow finally strikes the ice, causing bright flames releasing steam into the area. The ice and target are obliterated.
You feel a good exhaustion come over you. Practice complete, you head to your quarters to complete additional research for some spells you have been working on.
The next moment you are on the bridge, fighting Alliance fighters and a few former classmates. Byleth has you stationed further away from the students, your goal is to take out a number of heavily armored ground troops and clear the way to Judith, leader of the enemy forces. Your fingers spark with electricity as your favorite spells are prepared. You remind yourself to keep your jubilant shrieks to yourself, in the last battle Hubert chastised you for frightening Bernadetta.
You wake up in your bed. This time you are not revulsed by the fighting. It felt thrilling. That scares you more than when you were upset and afraid. Things are so different in this dream. Byleth is a woman. But you’ve seen them before as a man. You know Edelgard was your enemy before, but this time you practically worship the ground she walks on. You remembered the singular focus you had in the dream. Nothing to distract you from your goal. You would forgo sleep, train well into the night.
Why were you playing chess with Hubert? Oh. He had tricked you, saying that chess is training of the mind to think more strategically. You thought he was trying to keep you out of the training grounds for a while. He’s always playing mother hen over everyone, sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong.
Sitting up in your bed you shake your head. That was not part of the dream. It felt more like a memory. Are these dreams making you delusional now? You would like to get off this mental merry-go-round.
The next two weeks are filled with working nights, classes or sleeping during the day. Your bank account is getting fat. Your brain is not doing so well. Things from your dreams hit you during the day. Stopping at the cafeteria of the college, you look down at your tray of obviously poor choices. Mercedes voice is in your ear, suggesting that you eat more vegetables. You swear you can hear Manuela tell you to put the pie back on the shelf and get brussels sprouts, dark greens are much healthier for you.
You wear hoodies to class now that the weather is getting a bit colder. Tying the hood around your face to block your peripheral vision helps you concentrate on where you are going. Otherwise you feel like you recognize so many people.
Yesterday, while in the cafeteria you ate your oatmeal with extra raisins and apples, less sugar, thank you Marianne, when you heard a male voice over the rest of the throng. You knew it was Ferdinand. He was being boastful and incredibly proud of his stance on the subject, as a noble should be. It had to be him. Gulping down your food you grab your carton of 2% milk and head out the door to take the long way around to class.
Being a lab rat for the psy group seems to be getting easier. It is like you slip into an alternate universe in the past. Everyone there has the right names and faces, while here in the future, most of them don’t know themselves as you do.
Linny gets lazy about writing down everything. He simply records everything on a laptop and someone else can transcribe it. He sits in his chair, folds his arms and drifts off to sleep to the sound of your voice telling of your dreams.
It is getting harder to keep your accounts of what happens in the dreams simple. You know everyone’s names, the weapons, the enemies, the spells. You feel the need to translate them into something that relates to modern equivalents. You are also trying to be careful about revealing just how deep you are into these…are they just dreams? Memories? Recollections?
Finishing your recitation of the dream, Linhardt is asleep again. Linny!! It’s Linny now. You poke him in the ribs where you know he is ticklish, he quickly wakes and demands that you stop. You ask him to unhook the wires so you can head out. Taking your envelope, you head out to the ATM, deposit the cash then get ready for work.
Noting the amount of posters on the walls for the party in Student housing building 3, Claude is going to have a huge mess for you to clean up. Finishing work on the admin building you head over to whatever disaster awaits you after the party.
The common area and meeting room used for the event are not the worst you have seen. They even bagged up most of their trash. Hauling in a huge plastic dumpster on wheels, you load up the bags to make room to maneuver. Wiping down the tables and chairs you stack and move them to make mopping easier.
“Hey, hope things are better this time, Janitor.” Claude announces as he walks into the room.
“It’s nice. Thanks.” You mumble, surprised that he is here.
“I know we left a huge mess before, so I put Hilda in charge of cleanup.” He has that smirky grin on his face. It’s funny how some things never change. He’s still handsome too.
“I bet she was pissed that you’re making her work.” You say without thinking.
“She was.” Claude nods. “You know her?”
“I..uh..know some people in common.” You answer, wiping a table harder. Claude has always been intensely curious and you are now on his radar. Great.
“You look familiar. I can’t recall where I know you from.” Claude’s voice trails off as he puts his hand to his chin and thinks.
“I have pretty common looks. One head, two eyes with bags under them from lack of sleep. Same as most students.”
Claude sits cross-legged on one of the not too dirty tables, making himself at home. He is staring at you, his chin resting on his fist.
You finish the tables and chairs, except for the table that is occupied and sweep the largest chunks from the floor.
“Please tell me you are not majoring in sanitation or building maintenance.” Claude finally speaks.
“I thought you fell asleep.” You shake the broom onto the building pile of crumbs and debris. You answer him, “No.”
“Too simply dressed to be arts. Rocket scientist?” Claude asks, raising an eyebrow. “You hang out in the science and mathematics buildings.”
“Allergic to RP-1.” You answer, sweeping the crud into a dustpan and heading to the janitorial closet for a mop and bucket. As you emerge with your tools, Claude is in the hallway waiting for you.
“Thank you for an engrossing and in depth conversation.” He yawns and stretches his arms. “Next time don’t talk my ear off.”
Giving a happy sigh of relief you finish cleaning and reassembling the room into its standard configuration. Finishing for the night you grab a shower and head home for a nap and a homework filled day.
Sunday night at the gas station starts off with the normal routine. Delivery trucks unloading overpriced snacks, little old ladies holding up the line while they dig out exact change from their purse, kids dumping sodas on the floor. Past midnight the customers are few and far between. The door sounds and you look up from your bookwork. Some guy with messy red hair starts to come in, turns around and yells at whoever is in the car parked outside in the handicapped spot.
He turns around and faces you. First, you see the gun in his hands. Second, you look at his face and see Miklan.
“Hands up, Bitch. Listen or you are fucking dead.” He snarls, waving the gun.
You put your hands in the air alongside your head. A gunshot rings out, you hear the bullet hit the wall behind you, just over your head.
Miklan snickers, “Yup, loaded. Open the fucking cash register then get back.” He orders.
You open the till then push your back into the cigarettes displayed behind you. He climbs on the counter, reaching in the drawer, looking to grab the cash, but still pointing the gun at you. You keep your hands up, moving them in familiar positions as you softly mouth the words.
An incredibly bright flash of light goes off in front of you combined with a near deafening boom. Miklan’s body flies in the air, landing on his back on the floor. The entire store goes dark. The car outside flashes its lights, then backs up, crashing into a gas pump and speeds off.
You grab your cell phone out of your bag, thrilled when the screen lights up. Calling 911, they say they are on the way. In minutes police, a fire truck and ambulance arrive. They let you grab your belongings and take you outside away from the building under a nearby streetlight. You see camera flashes coming from the building as the ambulance hauls a stretcher inside. An officer speaks with you for a while, telling you to relax and saying a lot of nothing. They frequently ask if you are okay. Your voice shakes and you are visibly trembling from the experience.
After almost an hour they make you lock up the building (minus one Miklan) and take you to the station for questioning. You call your employer while riding in the car. They will handle the store, they are happy you are alive. Take off the rest of the week with full pay.
At the police station you tell them what happened. He came in, shot the gun, you opened the drawer and while he was taking the money something electrical must have happened because there was an electric flash and the whole building went dark. You try to describe the car that was parked outside. You never got a look at the driver.
The police thank you for your cooperation, giving you a cup of coffee, a Danish, and a ride home. You head up the stairs to your apartment and unlock the door. Turning on the light you notice an unmarked envelope on the floor. Nervously you open it. Inside is a slip of paper that says:
“We need to talk. -B.”
You fall onto your bed. You know the handwriting. Its them. Byleth is here, now. There is nothing else on the paper. No phone number. You have no idea what to do next. The only thing you can think of doing is wait. Since it is 3am, you may as well try to sleep. For seeing a dead body for the first time in this life, you are more relaxed about it than you feel you should be.
You wake up to your phone announcing a text message. You sit up and see you have 3 unread messages from an unknown number. You take a deep breath.
[8:00] Hey
[8:05] Wake up
[8:07] Wakey, wakey
I’m up. [8:07]
[8:08] Blue Prius outside, get in and take a ride
Every alarm in your head is going off telling you that this is a bad idea.
Give me a couple minutes to get ready. [8:08]
Stepping outside there is the Prius. As you arrive you open the door to see a huge man hunched over the wheel. He is so large part of him is in your seat. You close the door as you wonder how he got into the car in the first place. You move his elbow away to put on your seatbelt.
“Heya pal.” He says.
“Balthus?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“The one and only.” He smirks and hits the gas so hard you fly back in your seat.
He takes you downtown. You are glued to the seast, white knuckled, hanging on to the door handle as he drives like a maniac. You can’t say anything because your heart is in your throat. He suddenly stops in front of a large, unmarked brick building with a 16 above the door.
“Go on ahead, it’s going to take me a while to get out of here. Elevator is through the doors, fourth floor.” Balthus grunts as he opens the door and begins to unfold himself to get out of the tiny car.
As you step up to the door you hear it unlock. Going inside there is no doorman, no security, simply a hallway that leads to the elevator. Punching the up button, you wait. Checking your phone there are no new texts. The doors open and you go inside, hitting the 4thfloor button. You are shaking with excitement, nervousness, dread and who knows what else. As the doors open, they reveal an elegant and very tasteful office setting. Behind a high counter you can’t recognize the person sitting there until they stand up and smile widely at you, holding out his hand.
“Hi. Just call me Gavin. I’m sure you know me as-“
“Gatekeeper!” You gasp and laugh, shaking his hand warmly.
He hits a button on the desk and a voice on the intercom responds, “Okay.”
The door on the other side of the room clicks and opens.
“You can head on in now.” Gavin gestures to the slightly open door.
You walk to the other side of the reception desk and the door is open to a richly wood paneled hallway. The door on the other end of this hall opens as you approach. You pull the door the rest of the way open, stepping in to see Byleth sitting in a large comfortable office chair and Yuri partially seated on the top of the desk on the opposite side.
“Welcome to the fold.” Yuri holds his arms out wide.
You rush over to give him a huge hug, like you would any dear friend. Because he was? Is? You’re not sure, but you hug him anyway.
“I’m sure you have many questions.” Byleth folds his hands on his desk and looks at you, waiting for your response.
“I don’t get a hug?” You ask, holding your arms out.
Byleth stands and steps around the desk and hugs you, then looks down at you. “I apologize. I am not certain what you know and what you remember.”
“A lot. This is going to take a while.” You answer. “Can we drop the formal setting and sit somewhere comfy? With you behind the desk it’s like we’re back in school.”
“I’ll get us some coffee.” Yuri offers. “Cream only, right?”
“Yup.” You chime as Byleth leads you to an overstuffed corner couch in front of large windows that offer a great view of the city. You take a seat at one end and take your coffee, placing it on the end table next to you. Yuri and Byleth sit beside each other on the other end.
“So you two are together this time?” You ask.
“Yeah.” Yuri smiles as he takes Byleth’s hand in his own.
“Awesome. My favorite.” You nod.
“Just how much do you remember?” Yuri asks, tilting his head.
“I remember fighting alongside each of the houses. If I was not in the house when Byleth led them, they recruited me. Byleth was a male once, a female twice. Three times altogether.” You begin, then frown. “Strange. None of them are like the history books.
Yuri and Byleth look at each other for what seemed like a long time. Yuri bends over and hits a button on the telephone on the table.
“Gavin, order lunch to be brought in and make reservations for dinner. Cancel any remaining appointments for today. Thanks”
“Okay. Start from the beginning. Let’s say Blue Lions. What is your first memory with them?”
“I was staying at an inn, Remire Village. I just made it to the dining area and was stuffing my face full of food when Jeralt comes in all pissed off because these kids show up and they’re in trouble.” You begin. They let you keep talking. Yuri tents his fingers at times, mostly sits back sipping his coffee.
Byleth is spellbound as you begin. He stares into your face like he is reliving your memories with you. Well, they did live them with you. They were your best friend.
You tell them of the battle with Miklan, finding Flayn, Remire, the fall of Jeralt, the defeat of Solon, the battle of Garreg Mach, the five years of being without Byleth, reuniting for the Millennium festival, Dimitri’s madness, the battle at the bridge and Dedue’s return, the nightmare that was Gronder, Merceus and Enbarr.
You then go silent. You look at Yuri and Byleth. You grimace for a moment.
“BylethmarriedDimitri.” You cough into your hand. “I don’t remember much after that.”
Byleth sits back on the couch. “Fascinating.”
“You never told me that-“ Yuri begins to say until Byleth gives him a look that obviously says now is not the time for this.
A beep sounds from the telephone.
“Time for lunch.” Byleth says as he stands up.
You leave through a different door and are led to a dining room. The food smells delicious.
Over lunch you begin your questioning. “Okay, so was this all real? I know you merged with Sothis and everything, convenient to leave that out of the history books, but this actually happened? It’s not just dreams. I began to remember while dreaming, then it moved on to remembering while I was awake. The memories flooded my brain like a tidal wave.”
“Yes. It was real. It did happen. Several times.” Byleth answers you without hesitation.
“You kept reliving that part of your life over and over until you arrived at the best solution? That is fucking amazing. Hawking would've loved it.” You shake your head in near disbelief. “You were the archbishop, but the church isn’t around any more. I guess you just let that go away on its own. What are you doing now?”
Yuri comments about how well the meat is spiced and that they should order this dish again. You interpret this as new subject time.
“There was no mention of dragons or Agarthans in the history books. Did that happen?” You ask quietly.
Byleth nods, “Yes. It did. It was a fantastic combined effort to take them down. We agreed it was best left unwritten.”
The food is quite delicious. You try to think of more pleasant things to talk or ask about, your head spinning with this revelation before you.
“Who else remembers?”
“Just you.” Yuri answers.
“You gotta be shitting me.” Your jaw drops nearly to the table.
“Only you.” Byleth nods.
“Is anyone else supposed to remember?” You’re happy about these two, but you also hoped to speak to a few others. Reminisce about old times? Something like that.
Yuri explains, “Well, in the past we tried a few times, reincarnation is a thing actually. Most of you appear close to the same time. We had tried different ways of bringing through their memories. The problem was that when some remembered they mentally crashed. Now with counseling and medications being as advanced as they are we thought we would try again.”
“So then I volunteer to be a lab rat and something clicked…” Your voice drifts off as you recall the early dreams. .
Yuri continues, “When we read the reports of your dreams we were very excited. What we weren’t’ prepared for is how quickly it awoke the memories in you. We had no idea how you would respond.”
“You are a secretive creature, keeping mostly to yourself.” Byleth nods.
“We’ve been spying on you here and there.” Yuri grins. “You are so damn boring. Anyway, hiring you at the university made it easier to eavesdrop on your conversations.”
“What about the gas station incident.” You have a puzzled look on your face.
“That was all you.” Byleth shakes his head. “We had no idea that you could retain so much knowledge that you could actually cast spells. Crests have pretty much faded from existence. There are probably a few flickers here and there but nothing manifesting.”
You head back to the comfy couch, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. “So what now?”
“Well you can go on with your best life. You can work with us. What do you want to do?” Byleth shrugs. “We want to give your soul some closure. Maybe to be able to move on? Not like some creepy ghost or anything.”
Yuri winks, “Hey what about your love life? Do you remember much about it?”
You scrunch your face remembering what a mess it was. “Yes, I do. Ugh. I fell for Claude but had no chance because of supersexy female Byleth. I chased after Felix who was a good friend, but he was in love with Sylvain for forever. Then omg, can’t believe I am saying this, Hubert, and well, he was all over Ferdinand.”
They both look at you with a slight frown.
“I don’t know what order Byleth went through the different houses. I never remembered from one experience to the next. Now that I remember them all, I can certainly see what I didn’t before. A whole lot of ‘love is blind’ going on. Wanting something so much you can’t see the signs blocking your way.”
“How about now?” Yuri has that sly look about him. What a gossip.
“Working two jobs trying to pay for college and not be buried in debt, I have not dated. Ever.” You shrug. “It isn’t fair to someone else, we would have almost no time together. I work nights 7 days a week then school and homework. There is no time to breathe or eat, much less look for love.”
“Well, Byleth is unavailable.” Yuri moves a bit closer to him to assert his ownership. “You know Claude is quite curious about you, ‘Janitor’.” He taunts.
You roll your eyes. “What part of my life don’t you spy on?”
The three of you talk about fond memories, precious victories, even recalling a few of the tragic events.
“So you’ve poked a hole in my brain and all of my memories are out. What would you like to see me do? Wow. I feel like I just dropped a card into the Advice Box.” You laugh.
Byleth, who loved to answer these, sits up. “You should finish your degree and get your Masters.”
“Masters?” You groan, “I am dying right now, you want more? Degree, Masters, required internships and I’m already behind not being able to take things on full boat. I’ll be graduating when I’m 40.”
“Well, there’s a scholarship you may be interested in.” Yuri has his sneaky sneak face on. “You qualify of course. Pays for your schooling, housing, and monthly stipend. Funded by the Eisner foundation. Very private lot they are. More of a don’t call us, we’ll call you kind of group.”
You fall back onto the couch in shock. “W-why are you doing this?” trying to choke back tears.
“The usual.” He drawls. “Finally being able to catch up with old friends. Thank them for everything they’ve done. We would not be here without you. Hoping maybe you want to hang out with us. Maybe awaken a few others?”
“This is all beyond belief.” You shake your head. “If you asked me six months ago that I would be here with you two, talking over past lives. Wow. Do Seteth and Flayn come and visit?”
“They’re around.” Yuri gestures just vaguely enough to let you know yes, but that is not readily available information at this time.
“You are not planning on forming a vigilante superhero group or something weird like that are you?” You frown.
Yuri pouts. “You don’t want to be Lightning Lady or the silver bolt?”
“No.” you answer resolutely. “Masks freak me out these days. You should’ve seen some of the stuff in the art show. Made the Death Knight look like a fairy princess.”
Byleth stands. “We deserve a great dinner, care to join us at Dedue’s?”
“He’s here? Cooking? You bet!” You realize this is the beginning of something amazing.
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literaryfic · 3 years
Link
Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young
Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, vincenzo leaves, set five years after he left sk, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: “She’d buried him next to the false hopes and broken promises he’d given her, growing her resentment and longing in the same garden as his missing corpse, taunting reminder of her failure to make him stay. Occasionally, she would revisit his empty tomb and greet his ghost, tormenting him with the same question over and over again; why?”
Chapter two is out! Read on ao3 or under the cut.
“Have you been well, Cha-young?”, the same deep voice she’d missed asks. The ghost that’s been haunting her came back in the flesh.
He hasn’t aged at all, his youthful face still handsome as ever. He’s not smiling per se, but she can tell he’s happy to see her. She gets up and walks away. This couldn’t possibly be happening.
He catches up to her after a few seconds.
“Cha-young-ah. Hong Cha-young. Talk to me.”, he urges her. Suddenly, she can’t control her anger anymore.
“Talk to you?”, she faces him. “You made it extremely clear five years ago that we had nothing to say to each other.”, she screams. His face is unreadable, years apart have made him a stranger. “And now what? You want me to talk to you? You disappeared on me out of nowhere and never looked back so don’t you dare ask anything of me, got it?”
Panting, the anger she thought gone felt just as hot as the day he left her.
“Fuck!”. She’s not done yet. How could he come back like nothing ever happened? He had given her shelter, just to make her homeless. He had made her believe in love and happy endings, built her a castle and set it on fire. She hated him, his stupid hair and his stupid face. “Why are you doing this to me now? I don’t get it. Why now?” She starts crying out of anger, out of frustration, out of exhaustion.
For years now Cha-young had spent all her energy trying to forget Vincenzo and what they could have been. She had fooled herself into thinking she was over him but even after all this time, even when she was this angry at him, all she wanted to do was to touch him. She felt like she’d been cursed by the Gods, condemned to have him in her sight, yet forever out of reach.
She’s shaking now, sobbing. Vincenzo slowly approaches her, his eyes full of anguish.
“Can I please hold you?”, he almost begs as a single tear runs down his cheek. She doesn’t remember a time where he’d sounded this desperate, and she nods, almost against her will.
He wraps his arms around her, her head falls on his chest. She takes a deep breath, filling her nose and lungs with his scent, the one she hasn’t been able to forget. Somehow, she’s crying even harder now and he starts stroking her hair. “I’m sorry,”, he whispers. “I’ve missed you so much.”
She can’t quite convince herself yet that this is not a dream, so she holds him tight, afraid that the ocean will swallow him and turn him into foam.
They stay in each other’s embrace for a while. It could be minutes or hours, Cha-young doesn’t really know. It seems that tonight, on this beach, her grasp on her reality is loosening. Dreams and ghosts come to her in waves, and she can’t help but wonder when the tide will recede.
In the beginning, she dreamt that he would stay with her. Cha-young thought herself strong enough to anchor Vincenzo, yet he had fled and renounced her. Then, she had dreamed of his return, punished to share the fate of a seamen’s wife awaiting her husband’s homecoming.
He had chosen to leave and, until now, had never bothered to come back, and so after a while she had declared him lost at sea. She’d buried him next to the false hopes and broken promises he’d given her, growing her resentment and longing in the same garden as his missing corpse, taunting reminder of her failure to make him stay. Occasionally, she would revisit his empty tomb and greet his ghost, tormenting him with the same question over and over again; why? The ghost stayed mum, mere fragment of a person who had once been alive.
Yet, here he was, the one she had lost at sea, standing in front her. There was no doubt that it was him, alive and well. She felt herself regain control over her emotions and stepped out of his arms.
“You owe me an explanation”, she demands, looking him in the eyes. He nods slowly, his face serious. He is about to speak when she cuts him off, “Not here.” Here, where dreams become reality and prayers were heard. “Take me to your room”.
And so he does. They walk back to the hotel in complete silence, the sea breeze clearing up her foggy mind. They go up to the very last floor and Cha-young almost laughs. Their rooms are exactly a floor apart.
When they get inside, Vincenzo invites her to sit on the couch while he settles for a nearby armchair. The suite is as big as an apartment and the view of the ocean is stunning. It suddenly dawns on Cha-young that he’d probably been living in luxury for the past 5 years, and why wouldn’t he when he was that rich, but the thought annoys her. As petty as it sounds, she had wanted him to be miserable, just as she had been.
“Why?”
The question that had been haunting her hangs in the air for a while, and at one point she thinks he might leave it unanswered.
“That time I ended up staying, I’d managed to take care of the situation in Italy, but it was temporary solution. I needed to come back to save our family from being killed off.” He explained, choosing each word carefully. She could tell he was nervous, his eyes scanning her face, looking for cues.
“That explains why you had to leave, but that’s not what I was asking, Joo-hyung-ah.”
He looks like she’d just slapped him across the face, and she might as well have. She had never called his Korean name in such a harsh tone before. No, this name had been reserved for their most intimate moments, when she made love to him and played with his hair afterwards, as he fell asleep in her arms, when he told her about the few memories he had with his mother, or described his life in Italy with his adoptive parents. It was the first she had used his name as a weapon, and he looked devastated. Good.
He takes a shaky breath and bites his lip, trying to hold back his tears. In that moment, he looks as old as the world and as weak as a child. Although it pains her to look at him like this, she shows no compassion. This man had destroyed her and she would hold him accountable.
“I left without telling you because I didn’t trust myself to go through with it.”, he finally manages to say after a while. “I had to leave but I just couldn’t bring myself to let you go.”
“You’re a coward, Mr. Cassano.”, she spits out his name, hoping the formality of it would hurt him too.
“I know.”
“Why did you have to leave me? I get that you needed to go back, but why did you have to leave me too?” Cha-young tries to stay as calm as possible, but it proves difficult when she keeps blurting out her most vulnerable thoughts. She feels defenceless against him, but it is the only way she’ll get the answers she needs.
“Turns out the situation was even worse than what Luca had told me, and I wasn’t sure any of us would get out of it alive. You didn’t deserve to have to wait for me indefinitely.”
“So dropping me out of the blue was the best solution you came up with? That’s the only thing the great Vincenzo Cassano, one of the best masterminds in the game, could think of?” Her words are met by silence. “Guess what, genius? I still waited years for you. How was I supposed to get closure when you just disappeared? Wouldn’t you, out of all people, know what it feels like to be abandoned?”
It was a low blow, she had to admit, but she was past that. She needed to bring him to his knees, she needed to shatter him, she needed to break his heart.
“The truth is, I thought—I thought I was freeing you. From me, from my sins.” He’s not looking at her anymore, head hanging down, tears falling onto the ground. She compels her heart to look away, just this once, to not care for him.
“And who do you think you are? Do I not get to decide for myself?”, she’s almost screaming again. Everything that was coming out of his mouth sounded ridiculous to her.
Of course, she had imagined this confrontation countless of times, coming up with all the possible reasons he would use to justify what he did, but none of them mattered. None of them were enough to appease her, to undo what had been done. Nothing would ever repair what he’d broken and they’d never be the same again.
“I have no excuse, tesoro.” She hears the plea in his voice.
“Don’t call me that.” He looks at her, visibly in pain.
It was bizarre, seeing him like that, so hesitant, so vulnerable, so scared.
She realises it at once; she’s witnessing his fear for the first time. She hadn’t been able to spot it at first but there it was. He’d allowed her to see his anger, his sadness, his unfiltered joy but he’d never been afraid in front of her. Vincenzo was scared to mess this up, scared to loose her again. She had to hold back a smile.
“Did you follow me here? Don’t lie to me.” She demands, reinvigorated by her newly found confidence.
“I’d never lie to you.” She rolls her eyes at that. “I landed in Seoul two days ago, but Mr. Nam told me you’d be spending the next few weeks here, so I hopped on the first flight I found. Meeting you here, tonight, was an accident. I didn’t know which hotel you were staying in.” He looks to his right, suitcase opened on the floor, near the bedroom’s entrance.
“Why are you here, Vincenzo?”, she’s trying not to let her emotions seep through her words, to remain distant. But he knows her well, and she can tell by the way his eyes suddenly look at hers that he hears it, the part of her that wants him to answer “For you, I’m here for you.”.
“To repent. I’m here to repent, Cha-young-ah.”. His words carry the same certainty they once did, his tone the one of a fearless man. Her heart threatens to leap out of her chest.
“Do I look like a fucking church to you?”, she forces out a laugh she hopes sounds bitter. Not letting him time to reply, she gets up from the couch, feeling dizzy. “Right, I’ve heard enough. Goodbye.”
She can’t tell if he calls her name or goes after her but she’s out the door before she knows it. She runs down the stairs, gets into her room and heads straight in the shower. The water’s freezing cold, but she finds comfort in not being able to feel the tears streaming down her face.
She tucks herself into bed, confused about whether she’d rather wake up from this nightmare or continue to live this dream.
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