#i guess i am still being too harsh on myself since some people do enjoy it... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sodalitea · 3 months

Text

I - Miracles of the White Nights [Il Dottore x Reader/OC]

For Valentine’s Day I’m sharing the first chapter of my longer fanfiction about Il Dottore and my Genshin OC Marie Snezhevna (this story can be perceived as reader insert type of thing; the characters' names play a big role in the plot and I decided to pick them by myself). In this chapter I have not provided the most detailed background of the current circumstances between Zandik and Marie, but I plan to do so in the future. I don’t really know if I’ll update it in any regular schedule, but for sure I’m going to continue this story. Meanwhile, enjoy!

TW: Minimally suggestive! Mentions of Marie's guesses about Dottore's true intentions. Summary: Small gestures make a big difference. Due to the long lasting effects of a serious argument with Il Dottore, Marie Shnezhevna gets degraded on the lower position in Haeresys despite being one of his most reliable workers in the lab. Three months later a ceasefire is established. Zandik finds surprising but efficient way to trick her into getting promoted again. Don't repost my artworks/writings please! I'll appreciate likes, comments and reblogs. I am the author of both text and signature illustarion. ♡ English is my second language, there may occur some grammar issues!

AO3 link

I - Miracles of the White Nights

“The days in Snezhnaya seem identical. Wherever you go, you will find your hair and eyelashes frozen. It's so cold that you have to keep moving your body constantly in order to survive, even in the properly chosen clothing. Everywhere you look, you'll be surrounded by the snowy desert. If you stray too far from human settlements, your eyes will be obscured by one of the sudden snowstorms. Bunch of snowflakes will cut into your face like tiny, marvelously crafted blades. Somewhere on the horizon you may spot the outlines of deep, impenetrable, coniferous forests. You will find it difficult to stand straight due to the violent blows of the whistling wind trying to bury you alive in the frosty grave. It's worth mentioning that the typical Snezhnayan days are rather short in comparison to local nights that can last even for months. This land is harsh, but it still possesses unique, raw beauty. Those cold nights offer truly charming views in the form of multi-colored aurorae you couldn't experience anywhere else in equally rich form. The artistry of almighty Cryo Archon is undeniable, only the canvas she uses to paint her abstract compositions are painfully fake. Of course, these aren't the only charms of the Ice Nation. This country is huge and full of contrasts. What may seem surprising is this special time of the year when the sun takes control over the sky completely, so it doesn't set at all. The local population describes this phenomenon as the "Miracle of the White Nights''. Over the course of four hundred years, one could experience many of them, but they could not compare to the fragrant, inflaming nights in the Nation of Wisdom.”

Zandik, as he wasn't holed up in the deepest dungeons of Haeresys, stopped next to one of the windows in the southern part of his mansion and locked his gaze on the distance. The scarlet irises wandered somewhere along the glittering horizon, seemingly without any specific goal as the Harbinger enjoyed pervasive silence. Since he got rid of the segments, it had been happening more and more often. Sometimes he was just trying to shake off a strange feeling of lightness inside his skull. He was fed up with everything. Exhausted with the amount of delayed work. Instead of dealing with serious matters, he wasted too much time on trivial affairs such as correcting the mistakes of people less competent than himself. For centuries he wasn't relying on his employees that much and now he was just even more disappointed with them. After all, they were only humans with ordinary lifespans, without the satisfying amount of experience that would possibly match the level of Teyvat's most powerful mind. Zandik felt frustrated by the lack of quick alternatives to slow down the pace of his own work. He was alone with all of the projects he started when his other selves were still present. By the time he still handled most of the things on his own in different forms, but for now he couldn't even rely on himself truly. This would be a disgrace to him if he addressed this issue to Pierro or their Archon, since for hundreds of years he had been an exceptional professional, the master of planning and reacting quickly to every breakthrough revelation. He was always a few steps before everyone. At this stage, it was not possible for him to return to such a tedious work alone. It would be much less problematic if only deadlines never existed. Escape in thought was his way to break away from the unfavorable situation at least for a short moment. His thoughts traveled to the place where it never snowed. To the forests that sheltered a much richer variety of living organisms. The days were longer there, and the hot nights often made it impossible to fall asleep. The scents in Sumerian air could effortlessly mess with the restless minds of angry young men living for some greater purposes… For the Second Harbigner of Shneznaya, looking towards Sumeru was an involuntary, bitter flirtation with his own past. Currently he was in a place so incongruous to his homeland, but it was the only nation that guaranteed him complete freedom and support in turning his wildest daydreams into reality. It was the only place in Teyvat that allowed him to prove himself the way he was. He had everything he wanted to continue his journey and test the ideas that many would not even dare to think about… And yet, somewhere in his suppressed consciousness, he understood perfectly well that even here he was just a stranger meant to simply play his part. This time, as the man continued staring out the window, he heard the echo of someone's slow footsteps on the marble floor behind him. He recognized the sequence of these steps extraordinarily well… Those were inimitable. If only their owner walked barefoot, she would reach him in perfect silence. The corners of the Doctor's mouth turned up involuntarily.

“Marie Snezhevna,” he said without even turning towards the woman. Instead, he laced his fingers together behind his back. “Is this an emergency? At this hour I would rather expect to witness your presence in the laboratory or in your chamber.”

His voice echoed crystal clear between the walls of the corridor occupied by him and his underling. As usual, the scientist chose his words in a stiff, somewhat archaic way. Although it added seriousness and supposed politeness to his overall image, he himself seemed distant. Despite Zandik's cold demeanor, his interlocutor did not feel rejected. She was used to talking to him. Marie's interactions with Il Dottore resembled rituals based on some unwritten rules which the main participants managed to learn over the last few years. If there was an ordinary side witness there, the said unrefined observer could experience the eagerness to say that both Marie and Dottore enjoyed engaging in these subtle games.

“I will leave immediately if I interrupted something important,” the woman replied calmly, keeping her demeanor professional. Zandik remained silent for a moment, giving her no answer. This made the woman sigh heavily before she turned her back towards him to fulfill her promise. The quiet rustle of her clothes alerted the Harbinger, who slowly turned towards her and squinted his eyes hidden under the raven mask.

“Stop.”

It was an order. Naturally, the woman immediately stopped and turned her face towards him, allowing him to continue his speech. After all, she had to respect his will. He cleared his throat, seemingly offended by the whole situation.

“You wouldn't come here without a reason. Besides, I don't think it's respectful to be in a hurry when you're talking to your boss.” Indeed, he had known her for a long time and he knew what he could expect from her. He had to play it cool, precisely because — since he had fully understood his own position over the last few months – he didn't want to miss the opportunity to finally talk to Marie alone.

Since he delivered the two gnosis to Tsaritsa, he cut off almost all forms of communication with his former main assistant except her reports on the progress of her research under his command. Although the heretical scientist usually didn't care about time, now it felt like the whole eternity had passed. A really strange thing. Deep down in his heart he was a simple coward, or maybe his unwavering patience was reasonable and had finally paid off as the woman herself announced her readiness for a face-to-face confrontation? Marie shrugged her arms and shifted her body weight to one of her hips before shaking her head, sighing again with a faint smile on her lips. It was an extremely familiar gesture, as if everything before had never had the opportunity to set them apart.

“Of course, naturally…” she looked up at him, and then her facial features softened noticeably. “I just want to thank you for everything you did for me. I really didn't expect this. Certainly not after I caused additional problems in a very crucial situation. I made it all about myself. I think you deserve an apology for what I said, when I stated that you're…”

“Your apology is unnecessary.”

The Harbinger made a gentle gesture with his hand to silence her. He didn't want Marie to take old skeletons out of the closet. He also did not want to elaborate more about the choice of his that had a negative impact on his daily functioning. He wasn't even bothered by the earlier behavior of his former assistant anymore. Even though he still couldn't fully accept what she truly meant back then, he understood her perspective on an intellectual level. During that mission, he was caught off guard by Kusanali and he just did what was necessary to succeed. However, he could have done it all more skillfully to minimize the unpleasant side effects of the special operation. However, he did not take this into account at the time, so he was delaying an adequate response to Marie's complaints. No honest apology passed his lips in ages and he wasn't very likely to utter that magical word anytime soon.

“Follow me. It will be much more beneficial,” he gestured and clasped his hands behind his back again. Then, he started moving further into the southern nave of the mansion. He walked leisurely, visibly waiting for Marie to go after him. True to his expectations, she caught up with him very quickly. When Marie glanced at his face from closer distance, she spotted his poor state immediately. He looked extremely tired and couldn't hide it even under the mask. His skin was paler than usual and it had a sickly greenish undertone. Exhaustion would explain his growing isolation in a convincing way. His own pride was his downfall. As they walked through the corridors in silence, listening to the wind blowing outside, Marie noticed that they were approaching the sector of private chambers. His intentions could be... everything and anything.

Dottore's supposed intentions caused Marie's consternation, but in order to avoid hasty guesses, she decided to keep all comments to herself. The time on his side teached her that the worst things were usually caused by the incorrect assumptions about his agenda. Yet, when Zandik started unlocking the door to his dorm, the woman cleared her throat quietly and took a step back.

“I'll wait outside.”

Slightly awkward smile appeared on her face. She received a reply in the form of a nod. It seemed that he didn't care about the goal that could stereotypically motivate any man to take a woman to his apartment. Overally, Zandik loved privacy, so Marie was going to respect that as well, leaving aside the obvious moral issues. The Doctor disappeared inside his apartment for around five minutes. When he came back, he handed her a small box wrapped in a papyrus. He had a gentle yet wry smile on his lips that only fools could trust. He warned the woman before she started asking him any questions.

“In Sumeru I managed to obtain some new chemical samples which I expect you to analyze, describe, and maybe even extract something completely new from them. I just require you to be extremely careful when handling them. I didn’t choose any intermediary, considering the high value of those resources… I'm strongly against unpacking them outside of the laboratory environment.”

“I see. I will do my best to keep them safe,” Marie took over the package with extreme caution. She seemed to turn pale when she heard a silent clink of glass under the packaging. She looked fearfully at the Harbringer, who rubbed the tip of his nose with his knuckles, covering the lower part of his face at the same time. It took a lot of effort for him not to burst into manic laughter. Fortunately, Dottore was an excellent actor.

“This is another urgent project that has been delayed unexpectedly, so get on with it immediately… If you can make it this evening, I might even consider promoting you again.”

The man sounded as categorical as promising. Yes, exactly, it was a great idea for Marie to return to her previous position. Of course, if only that's what she wanted. Zandik just intended to convince her to do so, being fully determined to achieve the desired effect. Among all of his employees, he memorized cooperation with Marie as the most pleasant. Moreover, he could keep an eye on her constantly to avoid particularly embarrassing accidents involving her... This woman's reliability required appropriate supervision to shine fully.

“Promoting me, you say… For how long?” Although the woman turned it into a joke, she slowly moved towards the opposite side of the corridor, remaining very careful around the package received from her boss. Since Marie was cut from the same cloth as Zandik, she also didn't want to admit that she simply missed the infamous heretic's company. “Apart from formalities, I just wonder what it is. Naturally, I will prepare the report as soon as possible!”

The Harbinger watched as the woman took up her task. It was amusing to witness her curiosity and willingness to gain knowledge. In this particular case, he had a feeling that it would herald a real breakthrough in their united research.

“I'm counting on your expertise, Professor,” he added in Fontanian as she left, before the storm of woman's black curls disappeared from his sight. He expected very quick results from this long-awaited experiment.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

When Marie entered her study room in the lab, she put the package on the table and rubbed her hands together with excitement. Sumeru was the region with the best samples of poisons. What could be inside the parcel? Small colorful frogs for the production of poison darts, medicines and antidotes, rhizomes, roots, leaves, mushrooms, insects… The tropical jungle hid countless treasures and the fact that Il Dottore himself managed the trouble of obtaining raw materials was exceptionally valuable. Marie didn't know anyone who was more familiar with the local flora and fauna. She herself might not have even paid attention to some things during her on field delegations, but now she had the opportunity to learn something new directly from the mastermind himself. On top of that, he offered her another promotion. Wonderful. Low importance tasks weren't as fulfilling as experiencing the true science. After conversation with Zandik she felt extraordinary happiness that she had not expected to return these days. The way he referred to her as Professor scratched the right part of her brain a bit too pleasantly. She was more willing to try to forgive him for scaring her to death when he destroyed his segments out of nowhere. At the same time, was this really necessary to wait so long before handing her the new project?

The woman tied her hair back and put on protective clothing, quietly humming the first random melody that popped into her head. Then, she walked over the table and began unrolling the package. As soon as she saw its contents, she felt the wave of heat on her cheeks. This wasn't what she expected… She slipped the protective mask off her face in bewilderment, and then, with wide eyes, she began to look at the containers. The bottles indeed contained chemicals, but at first glance none of the substances had something to do with the poisonous flora of Sumeru. Those weren't even standard vials from Zandik's laboratory, but some colorful glass flasks decorated according to the Sumerian manner of design and sealed with appropriate labels. Marie sank heavily onto her stool and began carefully turning the bottles over in her fingers. Maybe… Dottore made a mistake or someone miraculously robbed him, replaced the original cargo and even managed to escape with his life? Sounds a bit too silly, but it was all just women's cosmetics. Nothing really valuable to the scientist.

Rose water, kohl, aker fassi and several niche perfume oils. What's more, at the bottom of the package there was an original Sumerian halva decorated with dried fruits.

Marie tried to maintain her denial, but instead of relief, she felt a pang in her heart. At this point her face felt as if she was on fire. If Zandik planned to give it to her right after he returned and her sulks prevented him from doing so… She felt so bad about herself. Willingly or not, she blinked her eyes a few times, as for a moment her vision became blurry. He had no reason to be so generous. Maybe it was a suggestion that he noticed her getting old slowly, or maybe she should just look for some specific, new purposes for simple household chemicals? Maybe the halva was poisoned or packed with elixirs he hadn't tested before? After all, Dottore always devoured it himself and he was reluctant to share it with anyone. Or maybe Marie was just overthinking at the moment and what Dottore really expected from her was terrifyingly simple. Was it that he wanted her to try those substances on herself, like she always used to do in her job? Zandik wished to see the effects of her work in the evening, which meant there was no time for typical scientific inspection… Marie had just enough time to do her makeup. It was exciting, moving and scary in its own way. It wasn't usual to get any prosaic, non-scientific gift from Zandik.

However, if this was the only requirement to restore the old order in the laboratory, Marie was willing to do it for both of them and touch the precious part of Sumeru that he brought to Snezhnaya for her. Soon the woman's green eyes got embraced by a beautiful dark frame. Her cheeks and lips got touched with the color of a pomegranate with a golden glow. She placed the sweet scent of honey, sandalwood and rose behind her ear. She cut the halva into pieces. For now she was almost ready to face him again. It was one of those white nights, when endless days asserted their domination over the lenghty times of darkness again.

48 notes · View notes

elialys · 1 year

Note

I'm reading your anon messages and I love that you become a fringe/Anna guru... That is no one better for the title lol

And I kinda wanted to participate too hehe so... I just read the answer you give about season 4 and the hatred people had for Peter. I'm from that time, but I had forgotten how real it was. I was quite young while the fourth season was airing, and I always loved Peter and Polivia, but I have to admit that he annoyed me a bit at times hehehe, and I often felt like it wasn't the right time to focus on him, but today I don't know if that happened by the influence of what was happening in the fandom... Besides, I was so focused on the multiple theories that were floating around that I didn't fully enjoy that season. Recently, I rewatched the entire series, and it was great to just enjoy the journey already knowing the ending. I understood Peter's side much more and was able to see things in the character and in that season that I hadn't been able to see back then. I also can not express how much I agree with you that in the end, Peter was just a victim of multiple changes of paths from the writers and the bad execution of their ideas. I know that you're going to start rewatching it now... Do you have any expectations? (Some kind of revelation hehe) Or do you think your opinion will change about anything? Hope this doesn't upset you, I'm so excited that fringe fandom is active again! xx

Hiii! Thank you for your message, always happy to hear from other people who experienced the show live! ❤️

I am clearly VERY biased when it comes to Fringe and its characters, especially Peter and Olivia because I spent so many years of my life writing about them and their psyche, I can't untangle my own headcanons about them and their thought processes from what's actually canon. So I'll never claim my opinions to be sound or objective, they are definitely emotionally driven 😅

That being said, I do think the very very strong reactions/opinions that were all over the fandom back when the show was airing influenced us all who participated in it. Like, to this day, as I said before, I am incapable of reacting normally when people criticize some aspects of s4, even though they are *right* to do so, and I even agree with some of those things, rationally. Except that I am not rational at all when it comes to people being super harsh on Olivia and/or Peter in that season because, fandom trauma haha

I was actually thinking about how much/how well I remember the show, since I'm about to rewatch it after 6 years. I basically still remember the first 3 seasons by heart, I watched and rewatched them so much. But season 4? Some episodes, I only vaguely remember the plot 😂 Season 5 too, to an extent, but that's more because rewatching it back then was too painful and too closely linked to feelings of 'REMEMBER WHEN FRINGE ENDED AND YOU WERE HEARTBROKEN?'

I don't really have any expectations for my rewatch, save for the fact that I expect to be crying basically all the time. I've been waiting all week to start, and I keep randomly crying when I get thinking about some aspects of the show, especially the characters. Granted I'm hormonal but still, I'm slightly emotionally compromised, I feel like my 6 years of bottled-up feelings are bursting out, it's already been an interesting experience and I haven't even started 😂

I guess I'm most curious about how I'll handle season 4 now? I did rewatch it a couple of times after the show ended, but I hadn't really had any time to distance myself from all the BS lol. I don't expect my opinions to change much though, on anything. Like I said, I'm too wrapped up in old feels for me to be objective about anything xD

#strahostorv #hug!box #fringe rewatch 2023

4 notes · View notes

sargeant-bxrnes · 3 years

Text

1 step forward, 3 steps back.

warnings: rafe being… rafe. drug mention & consumption, cursing, toxic relationship, sexual situations/implications, mental health issues. ANGST.

[AN: this is the first thing i’ve written, ever, so my apologies if it’s not flawless ; also, english is not my first language, that’s a warning on its own]

my requests are open btw

click for my master list

word count: 4.4K

Called you on the phone today

Just to ask you how you were

All I did was speak normally

Somehow I still struck a nerve

“Hey,” you said in a soft tone as soon as Rafe picked up the phone, you were laying down on your bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Hey princess,” his tone was calm, but his voice was rough and raspy all together.

“How you doing?” you asked him, even though you’d seen him last night, up close.

“I’m doing great,” he replied in a surprisingly cheerful tone, which is weird this early in the morning. Rafe is not a morning person. “You sound tired.”

“I am tired,” you confirmed with a sigh. “Guess I have you to thank for that.”

“My pleasure.” he replied cockily, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically hear his proud smirk.

“So, what’s the plan today?” you asked in a casual tone, fidgeting with the edge of Rafe’s shirt, the one you wore to sleep.

“Uh, what do you mean?” he asked in a distracted tone, he sniffed subtly and coughed.

You knew what that meant, but still, you hoped it wasn’t what you deep down knew it was.

“Yeah, I mean—“ you said and made a brief pause. “Wanna go to the club? Maybe we can take a ride on the boat, you know, with food, alcohol... just us.”

“Can’t, I’m busy.” he said after a few seconds, if you didn’t know him better and his occasional mood swings, you would’ve said his tone was harsh.

"Really?" you asked in a soft tone, trying to disguise your disappointment with interest. "But I thought we were going out together today."

"Y/N, just because I'm your boyfriend it doesn't mean I have to be with you all the fucking time."

Okay, now he was definitely angry, you thought you said the right thing, but it still made him angry.

"Rafe-"

"No, Y/N. I have a life of my own, you know? Things to do besides you."

“That’s okay Rafe, I get it,” You said calmly, nodding your head softly. “Have fun today.”

Now you clearly heard the sound of him sniffing something and the sigh that left his lips after, and Barry’s voice in the background. “Don’t play the victim card on me, that’s not gonna work. I deserve to have some time off.”

“I didn’t,” you said softly. “And it’s okay baby, you’re right, you deserve to have some fun.”

“See? No need to be so fucking dramatic,” he said, his voice and words slurring. You? Dramatic? It was all him. “But don’t worry princess, I’ll drop by tonight and fuck the attitude out of you, yeah? That way I’m not just doing things with you, I’m doing you.”

And with such a vulgar comment and a harsh tone, Rafe hung up on you, leaving you completely dumbfounded and filled with incredulity.

What you did know for a fact, is that he would keep up his word. And judging by his tone of voice and how annoyed he was, you could already imagine the ache between your legs.

You got me fucked up in the head, boy

Never doubted myself so much

Like, am I pretty? Am I fun, boy?

I hate that I give you power over that kind of stuff

You knew exactly what you were getting into when you started hooking up with Rafe, and what you were committing to when you agreed to be his girlfriend.

You know that man carries more problems than he shows, he prefers to make himself appear as the Kook prince who lives a life of partying and money; hiding all the things that were going on in his head.

However, there were times when his attitude made you doubt yourself.

You couldn't help but think, ‘What if one day I don't manage to calm him down?’ ‘What if one day he realizes that there is someone prettier, or hotter, or wealthier out there?’

And Rafe would get angry if you doubted yourself. He would complain to you about it, saying you had no reason to be insecure about your looks; if you are absolutely gorgeous, or to feel insecure about your personality; if you were the most genuine person he'd ever met, and you could make him laugh until he forgot all his problems.

But what really made him furious was when you had doubts about the relationship itself, about whether or not he was capable of leaving you for someone else. He took those doubts personally, as if he wasn't trying hard enough to show you how much you mean to him.

When in reality; you were doubting yourself.

'Cause it's always one step forward

You were preparing dinner for you and Rafe, your family was out for the weekend, and Rafe had decided to spend it with you.

Your hair was tied up in a bun, your attire consisted of nothing but your underwear and a shirt that used to be Rafe's, but you took it so long ago that it's yours now.

Music from your shared playlist played in the background, as you danced absentmindedly with a spatula in hand, extremely calm and enjoying time with your boyfriend.

Rafe could do nothing but stare at you with admiration, you are literally the only good thing in his life; his little piece of heaven. You are everything to him.

As soon as Dark Red by Steve Lacy started playing, you let out an excited gasp. That song in particular is Rafe’s and yours, like… if you two had to choose a song to describe your relationship, it would be that one. It represented how you two did not always have good times, but your love prevailed.

Seeing you this happy, comfortable and at ease with him made Rafe's soul happy. All his life, he had done nothing else besides make people angry, disappointed, terrified. But with you, everything was different.

You were so focused on swaying your hips to the music and singing, that you didn't notice when Rafe stood up and walked over to where you were.

It wasn't until he stood behind you, chest to back and with his hands on your hips, that you realized he was closer. His head was bowed, you could feel his breathing close to your ear, so he was able to murmur in your ear the lyrics of the song:

“Only you, my girl, only you, babe,” he sang in your ear, his voice a soft whisper as he wrapped his arms around your body and started to sway with you. “Only you, darling, only you, babe.”

The gesture quickened your heart to unsuspected levels, you felt your knees weaken as you pressed closer to his body, appreciating his closeness as he pressed a kiss against your temple.

“You know I love you so much, right?” he mumbled in your ear, as you closed your eyes and relished his presence.

“I love you too, baby.” you mumbled back, leaning your head against his chest, caressing one of his arms around your waist with your fingertips, and bringing your hand to his ash blond hair, stroking it softly.

and three steps back

“Why is he mad at you, again?” Topper asked you with a raised eyebrow, after witnessing Rafe utterly avoiding even looking at you when he walked into the room and then left without a word.

“Because I told Barry to not open the door if Rafe dropped by,” You replied with a shrug, closing your eyes and leaning back against the chair. “And when Rafe tried to lash out on him, Barry said it all had been ‘Mrs.Country Club’s’ request.”

“And he’s mad at you because you don’t want him to get all fucked up?” Topper questioned next, trying to understand the situation. But he never knew what the fuck you two were up to.

“Yes, but it’s Rafe, are you surprised?” you said with a heavy sigh.

“No, not really,” Topper admitted. “Honestly, I don’t know why you keep up with him, Y/N.”

“I ask myself that all the time…” you said with a deep sigh. “But I love him, so I guess that’s the answer.”

“And? I mean, I don’t want to be ‘that guy’ Y/N, but he’s…” Topper trailed off, apparently looking for the right word.

“I know exactly how he is, Topper, I don’t need you to remind me. I already think about that way too much.”

You and Topper had easily assumed that Rafe was no longer around, since he seemed to be making his best efforts to avoid you.

But Rafe was there, and he heard everything. He’d heard Topper giving you bad advice (or what he considered bad advice) And he heard you, having doubts about why you loved him or stood by him at all,and it made him want to lash out again.

I'm the love of your life until I make you mad

It's always one step forward and three steps back

Do you love me, want me, hate me? Boy, I don't understand

No, I don't understand

[+18. Really]

“Leave me alone!” his voice boomed in the room, his brows furrowed and the veins in his neck were popping out.

“Rafe—“ you tried once again, approaching slowly in an attempt to place a hand on his shoulder, but he waved it away aggressively.

“Leave-me-alone,” he said, pausing in between each word to emphasize on how much he meant it. His eyes were bloodshot, his nose had specks of white dust, his lips were dry and his voice was coarse.

You weren’t entirely sure what you could say to get him to calm down. Or if there was anything at all you could do.

Normally, what upsets him the most is Ward. His own father. Rafe has spent his whole life trying to prove he's a good son, to make his father proud, and Ward never appreciates his efforts, only notices the bad, and ignores Rafe's clear calls for help, has since Rafe was 10 years old, so he certainly wasn't going to pay attention to him now that Rafe finally had a steady girlfriend, someone who had willingly decided to help.

95% of the time, you managed to talk to Rafe before he decided to resort to intoxication. Most of the time just seeing you helped him calm down, hearing your voice soothed him, and your lips, your skin, put him in a state of peace.

But the other 5% is when Rafe resorted to alcohol and, above all, drugs.

When Rafe is upset and decides to get high, he only manages to become unstable, erratic and yes, aggressive if not handled with care.

In those situations, the best thing you can do, putting yourself first, is to give him his space. Let him screw himself as much as he wants for that day, and help him deal with the consequences the next day, while you listen to him lament his attitude.

Rafe always said he would quit the vice; claiming you were all he needed to calm himself down, that you made him feel at peace. And above all, that you weren't slowly killing him; on the contrary, every minute he spent with you made him feel more alive.

However, for one reason or another, he always came back to it. Whether it was at a party, because Kelce suggested it, or, as is almost always the case, when he's upset with his father and needs quick relief.

And usually, this ‘quick relief’ ends up with Rafe fucked up, big time.

Once he was convinced that you wouldn't try to intervene again, Rafe went back to his business. He turned to the table, and since he already had the line ready, he simply leaned over and inhaled it, throwing his head back, running his hand through his hair and exhaling as he closed his eyes.

You exhaled heavily, shaking your head as you stared at your feet. You knew he would struggle to quit, after all it is an addiction and he has to fight it, but sometimes you get the impression that Rafe doesn't want to quit, not really.

"Do you want to help me?" asked Rafe eventually, turning his head to look at you. You didn't know if it was a trick question or not, so you hesitated before answering. "Answer me."

"Yes, of course I want to, Rafe." you replied with your respective hesitations, wondering what he was up to.

"Come here then," he said, making a 'come hither’ sign with his fingers.

You took a hesitant step but stopped, your eyes narrowing as you analyzed Rafe, trying to determine his intentions.

He raised both eyebrows in your direction, in a silent question of whether or not you're going to go with him.

Eventually you walked over to where Rafe was, he smiled at you while biting his lip lightly. Without saying anything he approached you and kissed you; the drugs made his senses heighten, so the kiss was intense from the beginning.

So that's when it made sense to you what he wanted, he wanted you. Your most obvious thought is that he would use you to take out your frustration, put the drugs aside and, most likely, fuck you.

Your idea seemed to be the right one as soon as Rafe grabbed you by the waist, still with his lips on yours, left a little bite on your lip before pulling away; and without any problem, lifted you off the floor and placed you on the table.

It's something you wouldn't admit out loud,—mostly out of shame and guilt,—but this kind of sex with Rafe was the best, he's completely unrestrained, rough, full of stamina and teasing, and above all, possessive. And that, in combination with his attractiveness, always drove you crazy.

And honestly; if what he wanted was to fuck you to take out his frustration, you'd let him.

His kisses were hungry and his hands desperate, running all over your body without distinction, as if he didn't know where to start.

He parted his lips from yours, and left a kiss at the corner of them, on your jaw; and began to make a little trail of slow kisses down your neck. The feeling of his lips on your neck made you bite your lip as you wrapped your legs around his waist to feel him closer.

You slid your hand under his shirt, caressing his defined abs and the sides of his body gently with the tips of your fingers, as he left little bites on your neck. Your hands slowly moved up, intending to remove his shirt, but Rafe was quicker and brought his hands to the edge of your shirt, causing you to stop your movements to raise your arms, so he could remove your shirt with ease. And so he did.

He parted his lips from your neck and stared at you, the hunger in his eyes made you feel a fire in the pit of your stomach that only he could put out.

Desperately, your lips connected again as he settled between your legs. One of his hands traveled to your neck, and he wrapped his fingers around it, pressing lightly to the sides. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head; though he couldn't see it.

With just enough strength, Rafe used the grip he had on your neck to push you down onto the table, so that you were lying on top of it.

As soon as he leaned over the table, you could feel his breath over abdomen, so you bit your lip in anticipation for what was to come.

He began to leave slow, wet kisses on your abdomen, making a slow trail to the edge of your shorts. Your automatic reaction was to close your eyes and put a hand in his hair, stroking it gently.

What you didn’t know is that the fact that you closed your eyes had given Rafe an opportunity he couldn't miss. Without you noticing, he slid a hand to the side of the table, where the small bag of white powder was.

To conceal his actions, he unbuttoned your shorts, and returned his lips to the beginning of your abdomen for more time.

The little bite he left to distract your attention caused a gasp to escape your lips; and that sound almost caused him to change plans completely.

He did want to fuck you, don’t get him wrong. He even had a mental debate about whether to continue what he was doing or simply sink his head between your thighs and provoke more sounds like that.

But he wanted to try something first. He had always wanted to try it, but had never asked you, because he knew that you would most likely say no.

With ease, he slid your shorts down your legs; so that they stayed at your ankles or fell to the floor; he didn't care. One of his hands slid into your underwear with ease, his fingers going straight to where he knew you needed him the most.

Trusting that you would not open your eyes, carefully, he put the white substance on your body, so delicately you didn’t notice. He began to prepare to inhale, while biting his lip in reaction to the sinful sounds that left your lips.

And obviously, without warning, Rafe inhaled a line from your thigh.

And all your sounds stopped, your eyes opened and your expression was filled with surprise, the bad kind.

You couldn't believe what Rafe had just done, you felt like an idiot for falling into the trap.

You also had to bite your lip to keep from letting out a moan in reaction to what his fingers were doing in between your legs, but your pride forbade it.

But more than anything else, you were outraged.

“Rafe, you did not just—“

“It felt nice, yeah?” Rafe’s voice was hoarse, you could feel his breath over your skin, as he left little kisses around. “After all, I did feel you clench around my fingers.”

His dirty words, hoarse voice, and close proximity to your body, not to mention his fingers deep inside you, caused you to let out a soft moan, causing Rafe to smirk in what he thought was victory.

But you wouldn't let him win this little game.

Although you really didn't want to, you grabbed his hand by the wrist and pulled him away, your legs trembling slightly at the sudden lack of anything between them.

Rafe's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as soon as you pushed him away from you and got off the table, lifting your shorts off the floor and putting them back on without a word.

"What are you doing?"

You didn't answer, as you searched for your shirt, feeling his heavy gaze on your body.

"Y/N, where do you think you're going?"

“I’m leaving you alone as you asked me to, remember?” you said in irony. “Before you sniffed a line off me after I begged you to quit that shit?”

“Oh, so now you’re playing the victim?” his voice rose. “Don't- Don’t act as if you wouldn’t have let me fuck you less than a minute ago!”

"Yes I would have let you, to distract you from that shit!" you admitted to him, failing to control your anger. "I said I wanted to help you, to distract you, to give you something different to do. Not that I'd give you another place to snort lines from!"

Rafe knew you were right, of course he did.

You had spent months after months trying to get him to quit, you had offered him countless hours of your days to give him something new to do, distractions, attention and love. And this is how he had decided to pay you back?

But Rafe was angry too, very. You had interrupted him, you were yelling at him; and you had left him so hard, that it would start to hurt unless he did something about it.

“Fine, then get the fuck out of here.” Rafe spat, his anger clearly getting the best of him.

Your eyes widened at that, you hadn't expected him to react like that.

Your best case scenario would be that your attitude would piss him off, yes, but that he would retaliate by getting you back to the table and showing you everything you were missing.

Instead, he simply took your word for it and told you to get out of the room.

“What?”

“You heard me, get out.”

“Rafe—“

“You uh, you have three options, yeah? You let me fuck you over that table and do whatever I want, you get out of here, or I’ll get you out of here.”

The first offer was tempting, it really was, but you wouldn’t allow him to talk to you like that. Before anything, came respect and dignity, and no matter how much you wanted him to fuck you silly, you were too angry and disappointed at him to let it slip.

Blinking repeatedly to chase away the tears from your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the other end of the table, your jacket from Rafe's bed, and walked out of there without another word as you heard him calling your name.

And maybe in some masochistic way

I kinda find it all exciting

Like, which lover will I get today?

Will you walk me to the door or send me home cryin'?

Your relationship with Rafe was unique.

Not because of the circumstances in which it was created. A one-night-stand that turned into something casual, that was formalized after a dinner.

If not for Rafe.

You loved him, no doubt about it. You would give anything to see him happy and at peace, at peace with himself and succeeding in his life.

Rafe would do anything for you, really, anything. No matter how risky, demanding or dangerous, he would do anything for you.

He would die and kill for you.

But that surely didn’t mean it was an easy relationship, hell no. In fact, the willingness both of you had to do anything for each other sometimes made things too complicated; for at times it seemed that not a single rational thought crossed your minds.

And yes, Rafe’s addiction was a big issue. Whenever he was too high, or going through withdrawals, he wasn’t the Rafe you knew or had grown to love, it was another side of him you wanted to help get rid off. And the process wasn’t easy.

While trying to get clean; there was no way to know how he’d behave. He could either get clingy and want you around at all times to calm himself down, or he’d be in a very bad mood all the time, constantly snapping at you and raising his voice.

So there were days where he’d walk you to the door of your house and leave you there with a tender kiss and a smile.

Or days when you’d get out of his truck without a word, with tears streaming down your cheeks while he kept yelling for probably the stupidest thing.

No, it's back and forth, did I say something wrong?

It's back and forth, goin' over everything I said

It's back and forth, did I do something wrong?

'It's back and forth, maybe this is all your fault

Rafe knew he wasn’t okay. After all, he had begged his father for help, begged for anything that would get those thoughts to stop, but his father hadn’t listened, had only told him to ‘man up.’

You knew he wasn’t okay. Which is why you wanted to help him, to offer the support no one else had bothered to give him before he met you.

Whether he wanted it or not, those thoughts were still there. Being with you made them easier to ignore, but it’s not like they vanished entirely. He still had some ideas that made his own skin crawl.

And sometimes, you’d say or do the wrong thing and trigger those thoughts. And things got bad again for him.

Rafe knew you wanted nothing but to help him get better and be the best version of himself, and he really wanted to give you that. To change and make an effort. Not only for himself but for you. He wanted to be a man worthy of your love.

But it was hard to be anywhere near decent when you two went out and a guy stared at you for longer than Rafe’s limits allowed, or when guys tried to hit on you, when his friends got a little bit too close for his comfort.

Whenever he got jealous, he turned into a walking, talking ticking bomb. Anything could, and would set him off.

It wasn’t your fault, not really, but most of the time you felt it was. You knew Rafe dealt with a lot of insecurities already, of not being a nice person, not being good enough and so many other things. And you hated being one of the factors that caused his insecurities to arise.

And I'd leave you, but the roller coaster is all I've ever had

It was a complicated relationship, and it would probably never stop being complicated because both of you are complex people, plus there are other factors that affect the relationship.

But that didn't mean either of you would stop fighting to keep it alive. Neither would let the other go.

Rafe utterly refused to ever let you go. He loved you as he had never loved anyone, as he never thought himself capable of loving with that twisted heart of his.

You are, without exception, the best thing in his life, the best thing that ever happened to him. And you being in his heart was slowly turning him into who he had wanted to be during all those years of loneliness.

And you would never let him go, because you loved him with all your heart, soul and nerve of your body. And because you know that no one will ever love you like him. With so much passion, intensity, honesty and purity.

Because every feeling Rafe expressed with you was true; he was himself with you. And you didn't want to let him go.

Even if the two of you went one step forward, and three steps back, that single step would be longer than any step life makes you take backwards.

797 notes · View notes

bibbykins · 3 years

Text

Insufferable

A/N: The long-awaited flashback is here! It's short, but it is here! I hope this can really show the turning point in Jungkook's and MC's relationship and I would love to hear everyone's thoughts. As usual, tips are not required but greatly appreciate. Hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful day/night!

Note: This is a part (specifically a flashback) of The Household's Bunny series, so I recommend reading at least the Prologue before this one

Word count: 3.6k

Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader

Summary: Roommates are bound to have arguments, especially when one of them is as temperamental as Jungkook, but you didn't expect the first argument to get so unbelievably personal.

Warnings: abandonment issues, mommy issues, allusions to past abuse, family issues, crying, yelling, vomiting, panic attack, exhaustion, some soft yandere thoughts, some possessiveness, jungkook is mean and the MC gets a little mean too

There was something so constricting about memories of a shitty childhood. There were times when looking in the mirror felt like searching for the child in you so you could give her the hug she desperately needed. There were times when waking up felt like a check to make sure you were no longer in the home you had to grow up in far too quickly. However, the comfort of being in a different home only came so far when you didn't have anyone beside you or even emotionally available enough to talk to.

You stayed in bed for hours before it felt like a good idea to move, almost waiting for the mirage of change to fade before it brought you back to the gym with your mom or your uncle's apartment littered with whiskey bottles and leaky tear ducts.

Sometimes putting your best foot forward each day felt so hard with all-consuming loneliness clinging to your heels.

You had started your day going through your memory box. Hindsight said that was a poor idea. The box was a sure way to get you into a bad mood. You liked to think you breezed past all the stages of grief, but just because you accepted reality didn't make it hurt any less. The box was a strong reminder of that much as it sat with a melancholic aura. The creme color faded and the thorned vines connected to roses only added to the malicious undertones of its existence to your mental health. It was full of childhood photos, your birth certificate, school achievements, and the last known address your mom had.

Ah, your mom. What a way to bring clouds to your sunny day. You don’t know why you put yourself through the turmoil of the memory box. Maybe you were hoping it would be easier by now. You were always wrong. Looking through childhood photos and finding no love in the eyes of your mother when she looked at you and watching the love in your uncle’s eyes fade with your mother’s presence. You got to the fated birthday card, thumb rubbing over the defunct address longingly. You held the envelope in your hand, inspecting the birthday card she sent you. Three words in the repetitive note written on the inside caught your eye, and not the ones you so desperately wanted from her.

Feeling a familiar pressure behind your eyes, you tossed the card aside and stood. It was time to eat, go on a walk, do anything other than this. You found your way to the kitchen and came across a silent and solemn Jungkook. His jaw was clenched, but it felt like it always was around you.

Your relationship with Jungkook so far was not very complicated, in the way it was nonexistent. He either didn’t care about talking to you or he actively didn’t want to, you really couldn’t tell. This didn’t stop you from trying, though. Like an idiot.

“I’m making food, did you want any?” You asked from your place seated on the couch, and the silence that was his response for deafening, “Okaaaay.” You sang awkwardly, “I just know that you usually don’t eat throughout the day and-”

“And what do you know?!” He snapped, blinded by his pure and unbridled, but most important unprovoked, rage of you. Your eyes widened and your body jumped. Holy shit, you had never heard him yell like this, “You don’t know anything about me, or in general, so just stop trying so fucking hard!” He was harsh in his tone and it lit your whole nervous system on fire. What the hell did you do to him?

You shook your head, not sure why he was yelling about, but it made your throat feel like it was going to close, “Look, I was just trying to be polite, but you don’t need to talk about me like you understand-”

“Understand?! What’s there to understand?” He challenged, eyes wide like he was expecting you to say something but he continued, “You’re some spoiled girl living here rent-free because your precious dad doesn’t want to take care of you.”

Your heart caught in your throat as it shattered. He was right, your dad didn't want to take care of you, but not in the way he thought. Why was he doing this? Has he genuinely felt this way all along? Was he just holding in his anger until you poked the bear a little too hard? “You don’t need to yell at me.” You stated firmly and it seemed to only make things worse.

“And you don’t need to fucking be here in the first place!” He spoke, temper long lost and you could hear his voice mix in with Jungyoon’s, all he needed was a bottle of whisky and a set of calloused hands, “You didn’t need to fucking live here-”

“You don’t know anything about me.” You spat out. Now, you were losing your temper. You could take a beating, but for only so long, especially as an adult, "And it's not like you're paying rent either, so what do you know about me or my living arrangements?" You hissed and you watched his eyes flare, making you nearly regret your provocation.

“No, but I know how you look naked-”

“Fuck you.” You spit the word out at him, something you haven’t done to another person for a while “Don’t weaponize my work or play a game that you absolutely will lose.” You warned, “I know all about you, and I can use that, because you’ve been a star since you were 15, and that sucks, that makes you mad, doesn’t it?” Your temper effectively lost as you ripped into the rage-filled man before you, “Yet you don’t know anything about me, and that must piss you the fuck off, huh?” You stood from the couch, tears building in your eyes before you could stop it.

“I know enough, spoiled rich girl.” He seethed and you laughed humorlessly at this worldwide pop star calling you spoiled and rich.

“Not only are you wrong, but you’re also a poor listener.” You shot back, “I’ve told you all before Jungyoon isn’t my fucking dad, he’s my uncle.” His mouth opened but you cut him off before he could start, “He can’t stand the sight of me so he travels for work.” Your tears are undoubtedly falling, but you can’t stop, “And you’re talking to me like this because what? You had a scandal or something?” You gave him his chance to talk and boy, he took it.

“Mona told me you know your mom.” His voice was like venom, “So, why the fuck are you here? You have your blood relatives.” He exaggerated the word like it meant anything to you, “Why are you here, disrupting our lives, acting like an innocent orphan girl around actual fucking orphans-”

“I never said I was or acted like an orphan!” You exclaimed incredulously before scoffing, “That’s why you’re mad? Because you never knew your mom and I did? Because I know who my blood family is?” You could laugh at how ridiculous that was, “I know them, so what? Where does that get me?” You looked at him expectantly but he didn’t talk, “I knew my mom, and guess what? She just didn’t fucking want me.” He was silent, but you still couldn’t stop, “I’m sure if your mom could’ve got to know you, she would’ve kept you, because you’re not insufferable to be around, you’re just a fucking asshole.” You wiped at your cheeks furiously, “But me? I had 15 years to prove myself and it still wasn’t enough. I still wasn’t enough. Jungyoon never wanted me either, he got stuck with me and had to cope.” Your voice began to break and you had to take a breath, “I was the insufferable one, so-” You stopped, finally as you regained your sense of reality and watched Jungkook who had an unreadable expression and the realization of the word vomit you spilled out to him hit you like a train as you exhaled quickly, rage in your voice quickly replaced with soft melancholy “I am the insufferable one here, so there.” You shrugged, face a wet mess, “Hope that brings you peace.” Your stomach was churning as you turned on your heel, unable to hold in your sobs. You couldn’t bear the awkwardness of waiting for the elevator so you opted to take the stairs.

You sobbed louder as the door slammed shut behind you, but you didn’t want to linger so you bolted down the stairs, the bile in your stomach signaling that you needed to find the nearest trashcan and quickly. You made it to the ground floor and spilled your guts into the small trashcan. Yelling always made you unbelievably ill, whether it was getting yelled at or yelling, the sickness it made you feel overflowed. The yelling only reminded you of-

You vomited again at the mere thought. You cried harder when you finally finished, breathing becoming staggered as you began to panic.

Fuck, they’re gonna kick you out, and then you’ll be alone again. You lost your temper, people don’t like other people who lose their temper. Why couldn’t you just mind your own fucking business and leave him be? You’re stupid. Why do you think you’ve been alone all your life? It’s because people don’t want to be near you. You’re-

“Insufferable.” You mumbled, numb, even if for only a moment.

Sure, Jungkook provoked you, but you knew better. You didn't go to therapist after therapist throughout your adolescence for nothing. You felt as if you set yourself back eons after that outburst. He didn't need to know all that about you, ever. He probably didn't even care to know, and you said it anyway, like you were gunning for gold in the trauma Olympics. You didn't want to minimize his struggles, you just wanted him to shut up and stop yelling at you. You let your eyes flutter closed as you cried. How can you complain about being alone when you're like this?

You don’t know how long you stayed there, sitting next to a trash can full of your vomit as you wallowed in your self-hatred. The all-consuming loneliness the boisterous house subdued returning with full force. Jungkook was right. You didn’t need to be here. You were only disrupting their routine.

You blew out a sigh as you staggered to the elevator, fully set on going up to your room and crying yourself to sleep after you clean up. You brought the trashcan with you, not having the heart to just leave your puke down there. You thanked your lucky stars when Jungkook was no longer on the second floor as you went to the kitchen and rinsed your mouth before going to take out the trash and take out your burnt oven pizza. Finally, you were headed back up to your floor. You watched the numbers tick by with tired eyes. You glared at the empty trashcan, electing to take it with you instead of making the trip back down to put it back. Surely, they wouldn’t need it for a few hours.

The elevator dinged as you grabbed the black plastic bin and then you were met with Jungkook. Relief flashed across his face before irritation settled on it, “Where the fuck were you?!” He asked hurriedly as you trudged past him, too exhausted to fight. You were running on autopilot the whole way up here, and you couldn’t bear another spat.

“I was on the first floor.” Your voice was low, trying to communicate you were done arguing as you lifted the bin as proof. You then set it down and went to your bathroom and began brushing your teeth.

He scoffed, “You were on the first floor for 30 minutes?” He asked as if he caught you in a lie but you nodded as you rinsed your mouth.

You were down there for thirty minutes? No wonder you felt so tired.

“Yep.” You popped the last letter before correcting yourself, “Well, I spent like 10 minutes cleaning up that bin, so not exactly.”

“Why?” He asked as if you were being ridiculous, as if he wasn’t the one on your floor demanding answers.

“I vomited.” You spoke simply and before he could ask, “Yelling makes me puke.” You were so blase about it he sighed in frustration.

You walked to your room and froze when you saw your memory box strewn about, and it was like a dam broke all over again. You looked at the photos, at the eager little girl looking for love in places she would never find it.

Old habits die hard.

Before you could even stop yourself, you sunk to your knees in garbled sobs and broken cries, “Hey, hey, wait.” Jungkook’s shaky voice did nothing to bring you back to reality as you cried. His hands placed themselves on your shoulder, making you flinch violently, much to his horror.

Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know why you were crying, but he knew it was his fault, at least in part. Even if at this moment it wasn’t, his outburst surely didn’t help. Fuck, he’s so dumb. Fuck, he shouldn’t have talked to Mona just moments before seeing you.

The envy of even seeing your own mother’s face ate up at him and he took it out on you. Not to mention that he made you vomit from the yelling. He suddenly felt more like an arrogant asshole than he did before as his hands now hovered over your form and he took a moment to look at your room.

Scattered on the floor were childhood photos and ribbons from competitions. Things Mona kept in her own house, having a whole wall filled with every one of their achievements. Even Jin had a photo album of their things. And you, you kept all these for yourself. You were the only one who cared enough to save these things and he wondered how much you threw away to maintain space in the small empty box. Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this.

You sighed shakily, “You can just go.” You cried, “You don’t have to be here.” You don’t know what he could possibly gain from watching you cry.

“I know.” His voice was calm, even, “Can I help you up?” He asked and you wanted to look up at him in confusion but you didn't want him to see your tears.

You both had just ripped into each other, and here he was, wanting to help you. Why would he do that? Why would he stay when he doesn't have to? Why would he want to help you up after a fight?

Too tired to even think about questioning him and no longer angry at him, you simply scoffed, “Can you?” You sighed, not having the energy to stroke his ego and stand up without his help.

You never let people bear your dead weight, not wanting the awkwardness if they couldn’t carry you, but right now, you just wanted to lay down.

He snorted lightly, happy to hear anything other than a sob for you, “Don’t worry about me, you just cry and mind your business.” He spoke lightly, and the comment made you fight a smile. Then, he lifted you with so much ease, you figured he was trying to show off as he placed you on the bed. He looked at you after he sat on the floor before his eyes caught onto the gold foil of a 16th birthday card. You were wiping at your face as he read the card against his better judgment.

I know you must be confused, and I can’t help that. I wish I could pretend to be a mom, but I can’t. I can’t be your mom, and I never should have tried. It would be best if we forgot each other. I just can’t keep pretending, and I know you can see it, even if you don’t want to.

I’m so tired.

-Mom

Now, he felt even more like an asshole. He also felt a little bit angry that your mother could just leave you behind without so much as saying sorry. She wrote like she was a teenager and you were her mother. She obviously didn't put much thought into the seemingly last message to her daughter and it made his heartbreak for you, “That was the last I heard of her.” You snapped him from his thoughts and he looked at your puffy face, “She had left months earlier, and then I got that, but she moved before I could try to see her one more time.” There was a distant ache in your words as you looked at Jungkook sitting amongst your memories.

“Is she… still alive?” He asked, not sure why he felt the need to know.

“Not sure, but it doesn’t make much of a difference, I guess.” You blew out a sigh, before looking at your papers and folded posterboards, “I was cleaning out my memory box, and I’m not sure why I do it when I know it just upsets me.” You could still feel tears leaking from your eyes as Jungkook picked up a photo of you on your 14th birthday, posed between Jungyoon and your mom. You had a bright smile on your face and they looked at the camera with a tight expression, “You can really see how much they didn’t want to be there, but that's the happiest they look in all of the photos.”

He wanted to say you were wrong, but he could see it. He could see the happy little girl trying to make up for the unhappy adults around her. He knew he should’ve asked Mona why Jungyoon didn’t try to call or visit or why she was so eager to take you in if you knew your family. He should’ve just known better. Yeah, he understood how it felt to be alone growing up, they all did, but by the time they were all 17 they had a home that wanted them. You were going to graduate from college soon and you still felt unwanted.

No thanks to him.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted and you looked at him with wide eyes, “For being an asshole, I’m sorry- and for making you cry. I just…” He shrugged, “You’re right. I was jealous you knew your mom and I already was suspicious of you and I- I’m dumb, and I’m sorry.” He looked at you, eyes a bit glossy and you wondered when was the last time someone apologized for making you cry.

“It’s okay.” You smiled weakly, “You are dumb, but that’s okay.” You chuckled when he frowned, but eventually, he also broke into a short laugh, “I think… we’ve felt a lot of the same things in different ways, so I can’t blame you.” He wondered how you could be so forgiving, and he was scared of how many times that has gotten you hurt, “I like living here and I like all of you, so I hope I can get you all to like me too, even if just a little.”

“Don’t accept less than you deserve.” He spoke firmly before he started picking up your memory box, putting things neatly back in.

“Wh-”

He waved his hands nonchalantly, “You, sleep, I’ll clean this up and order some food.” He didn’t look at you as he said this, mostly to hide his blush, "If...If you want, I can give this to Jin. He has a whole place he keeps our stuff like this… he's really sentimental." He stumbled, still refusing to look at you.

However, he jumped when he heard you hiccup a cry. Ready to apologize, Jungkook was just about to turn to look at you until he heard you speak, "That… That sounds very sweet of you to do." You wiped a sentimental tear away as the blushing boy remained frozen.

"It's Jin's hobby, not mine." He deflected before waving his hand at you, "Sleep, I said." He frantically demanded.

You could see his ears getting red and you smiled, “Yes, sir.” You mocked in your work voice and made him freeze for a moment as you erupted into giggles while he whined, “Okay, okay, I’ll sleep.”

Eventually, you surrendered to your exhaustion as he delicately put away your papers and photos. He hummed lightly, smiling as he came across your debate team awards. No wonder he lost the fight before it even started. He turned around after lifting the box and sighed almost dreamily as he watched your sleeping face. You were beautiful, delicate, and puffy from the tears. He had the urge to keep apologizing for being such an asshole, but after looking through your achievements and your photos, he resolved to just keep proving it.

He wouldn’t let you get hurt again. Not by him or anyone, especially your mother, even Jungyoon was on thin ice.

His blood boiled at the thought of your mother for a reason he couldn’t understand. His hand extended shakily as he pulled the covers up to your shoulder and you hummed contently, making his heart melt a bit at the little smile you had. He wouldn’t fuck up with you again, not like this. He would be nice, at least a little, and first and foremost, he would order food you liked.

He froze.

Fuck, what food do you like?

He relaxed. Well, he could just ask the guys.

Fuck, they’re gonna ask questions.

Fuck, they’re gonna kill him when they found out he made you cry.

He looked back at your sleeping form, not having the heart to wake you up. He sighed, looks like he’ll just have to bite the bullet. He dreaded each moment as he quickly made an untitled group chat with the guys since you were added to their original one. He could only hope Taehyung wouldn’t change the group chat name to something stupid.

Tip Jar

#yandere bts #soft yandere bts #bts fanfic #bts series #yandere jungkook #bts angst #bts fluff #poly bts au

427 notes · View notes

lifewithdavefarts · 3 years

Photo

DaveFarts - Episode 1 “FartsApp” [Episode List] Since he’s a gassy nerd, Dave teases his friend Tim via WhatsApp by sending him a series of short videos of him farting.

FartsApp

Being gay with a fart fetish is really hard sometimes.

For me at least.

While the world is definitely getting more open-minded about homosexuality, I can’t really force it to accept this weird fetish (to be honest, all fetishes are kinda treated like taboos, regardless of the sexuality involved). I had to settle for YouTube videos or websites devoted to this whole fart-sniffing thing; not that I’m complaining: it was good to discover that so many people actually had this fetish.

Cue Dave. Well, sort of, actually. He doesn’t have a fart fetish and he’s not even gay. Dave has been my best friend since forever. Unlike me, however, he’s straight and is currently dating some (lucky) girl.

Around my age, he’s like a brother to me, and we’re actually well-known because of how much time we always spend with each other.

Dave is a great guy, a great friend, very open-minded and, dare to say it, actually quite hot.

Not surprisingly, being the brother I never had, he’s the first friend I came out to, the only one who knows about my homosexuality. Actually, it’s not like I told him… he found out on his own, in the worst possible way (for me).

During one of our nerdy game-nights, being “that one gassy friend”, Dave started to rip -as usual- tons of farts, fueled by some junk food, until he ripped one directly in my face (and boy it was amazing…). Everything went downhill from there… kinda. For some reason or another… he just accepted all at once not only my homosexuality, but also the fact that I found face-farting… hot. He just laughed about it and honestly gave me some encouraging words about my peculiar situation, proving that he’s indeed the best friend ever. Oh… and he also literally farted for me after that, in my face, letting me sniff and enjoy his amazing rips; he can also fart on command apparently: got a taste of his talent that same night.

That one, surreal night.

I still can’t believe it happened.

Felt like a confused dream. Like one of those nights where you drink too much so you don’t clearly remember what happened. But it was all true.

Dave, my best friend, was perfectly fine with me, my fetish, and all this weird stuff.

Yes: I know how lucky I am.

It’s been 4 months since he found out.

And, believe it or not, I’m getting face-farted so often that I’m almost forgetting how beautiful it feels.

Seriously: Dave simply accepted it like I’m living in someone’s crazy fetish dream and, when we’re alone, he just casually farts in my face (without me asking for it). Not always, but very often.

Surprisingly enough, despite the fact that my nose spends a lot of time brushing against his denim-covered butt, our friendship didn’t change at all though: we still hang out with the rest of our friends and generally spend a lot of time together.

Sometimes I’m so in disbelief about how easy-going he’s been with me, that I randomly ask him “You sure you’re OK with… this?” (I say, gesturing all of me), but he just smiles or rolls his eyes annoyed, tired of hearing the same question over and over again. What can I say? He’s perfectly comfortable with his own sexuality I guess, so he doesn’t have any problem with my fetish.

Sometimes though -sorry I say this- I kinda wish he did…

No, I’m definitely not complaining. That’s the best possible scenario for me, but sometimes he can get a bit too… inopportune. Dave is not really a prankster, but he loves teasing his friends, just for fun, including me.

I was in the middle of an important exam once, one of these pop-quiz thingies that make zero sense, and I felt my phone vibrate. I checked my FB private messages and all I saw was this YouTube link sent by Dave. Since I’m a fool apparently, I clicked on it, and one of those popular YouTube fart videos popped up and played, one with really loud farts. The first fart actually echoed in the room and other students glared at me: never felt so embarrassed (not including the night Dave found out about my fetish).

“Dude! Stop sending me this stuff!” I texted him. “I’m in the middle of an exam here!”

I scolded him for this, but the truth is that I couldn’t ask for a friend more open-minded than him.

The fact that he teases him with fart videos like he teases our heterosexual friends with those “shock” porn pics made me feel more… accepted.

But still… I was in the middle of an important exam so he had to stop.

And he obviously didn’t.

He sent me like 10 other links, just to annoy the sh%t out of me.

I mocked him by texting something like “Those videos are quite hard to find. Guess you’re gay too then!” but he would reply with “I had a great teacher!” and send me one of my awkward photos from Facebook.

Other times, since our friendship didn’t change a bit, he even made random references to my homosexuality or even my fart fetish when messaging me to make plans for the night (especially during the weekend). This mostly happens on WhatsApp:

Dave: “Dude, you have to come with us. Stop being a whiny little bi*ch and get up from that couch!”

Tim: “Sorry, man. I don’t think I’ll be joining you tonight…”

Dave: “You know what? If you don’t come with us… you’re gay!”

Dave: “Sorry, I mean… if you don’t come with us, you’re a fuc*ing heterosexual!

Dave: "U ride pussy, don’t you? Fuc*ing straight people!”

He was obviously being sarcastic, but I just loved how he adapted his… uhm… “humor” to my situation.

One time, however, things got a bit… hotter for me…

Dave: “Dude, come over. We have a lot to study…”

Tim: “Sorry, really can’t today. Aren’t you with Dana right now anyway?”

Dave: “I need somebody to focus with, not focus on. You know me and Dana always end up in bed after like 20 minutes.”

Dave: “It’s awesome but this stuff ain’t gonna study itself…”

Yep. Dave and his girlfriend Dana apparently had a very active sex life.

Glad he was getting laid. And Dana was pretty cool to be honest.

Tim: “Dave, sorry. Maybe tomorrow, k?”

Dave: “Dude! Come on! I’m farting like crazy today!”

Did… did he just try to “bribe” me using his farting abilities?

Dave: “Seriously. I just ripped one that was like 10 seconds long. What a waste of farts!”

Tim: “Dave… are you crazy?”

Took a couple of minutes to reply to that one, and then I got two messages at once.

Dave: “Oh yessss, Tim, crazy for youuuuuu!” he wrote, with a heart emoticon at the end (again, he’s a sassy bi*ch as usual).

I then saw that WhatsApp was loading a video sent by him, an actual video, not a link.

It was Dave, a smirk drawn on his face while staring at the camera. He was wearing a simple black shirt. The view soon moved and I saw his slightly sagging-butt in jeans sitting on a wooden chair, and then heard this big fart echoing in his living room (he was alone), rumbling loudly and hard on the wooden surface. He even turned the camera to his face while he was forcing the “classic”-sounding fart out, making funny facial expressions; indeed, the fart lasted almost 10 seconds, and I obviously loved that: biggest farts I’ve ever heard from him in awhile! It was like watching those funny fartvines on… well… Vine, but having my best friend as the funny/hot farter this time.

Dave: “Hope that convinced you…” he then texted.

I was kinda… “offended” by that last message.

I mean, yeah, I seriously wanted to be there, but I always love spending time with Dave, farts or not (that’s why we’ve been friends since… forever).

Tim: “Are you seriously using farts to buy my friendship? It’s not like I don’t want to study with you. I just can’t today!”

Was that too harsh? Should I have added a smiley face at the end?

Only thing I was sure of, is that I never thought that a sentence like that would even make sense someday.

And I was still bewildered by how Dave was so comfortable with the fact that I loved farts.

Tim: “You don’t need farts to convince me, Dave. More like… you’re making me suffer!” I joked, finally breaking the ice myself with a reference to my embarrassing fetish, proving that I indeed wanted to be there with him, enjoying those farts.

Another couple of minutes passed.

Was he making another…?

Dave: “I know you’re suffering, Tim. Don’t worry. That’s why I’m sending you this.”

Oh boy, another video. Should I play it? Was he aware that I was getting a boner from all of this?

I literally pitched a tent in my pants.

There… it’s Dave again, this time sitting on the couch. The video started with his face winking at the camera with a sly smile; the camera then moved between his legs and slowly panned towards his butt in loose jeans (he probably put his legs on the small table in front of his couch, to make his butt more visible). Now I had a rather unique (and hot -for me) view of both his butt (and part of his crotch) in jeans and his face. He grinned wildly and the fart began, ripped right in front of the phone. The sound and the views were perfect; Dave moved the camera towards his butt as the fart kept going strong, sounding like a deep trumpet; I could see the detailed blue fabric of his jeans as the funny sounds continued. What a lucky phone!

It lasted around 8 seconds and it was simply the hotness.

The video ended with Dave laughing at the camera and all went pitch black.

Tim: “You’re insane, Dave!” I joked again, enjoying how crazy he was about this. And for me I guess.

But I had to tell him.

Tim: “Dave, you do know that all of this gave me a… well…”

But as I was halfheartedly writing the second part of the message, Dave wrote more stuff.

Dave: “Then go beat your meat! I can’t do everything for you, Tim.”

Dave: “And please don’t act like this is some kind of big deal…

Dave: "Wow, Tim got a boner! How impressive!”

Dave: “Let’s all bow to Tim, the mighty guy whose penis can turn bigger!”

Dave: “Behold, the Great Tim! The guy who once had a boner and had to tell everyone!”

Further proof that Dave was being the best friend ever.

He was clearly being sarcastic; he was joking. That was his way of telling me “Nah bro, it’s all good”. And I was kinda surprised that he was so… chill about this stuff. I literally had a boner because of him and he just… didn’t care. As I said, he’s very open minded and perfectly comfortable with his own sexuality, so he didn’t have the irrational fear of “turning gay” when doing this stuff with and for me. I also appreciated that he trusted me with those funny, but otherwise embarrassing videos.

After one or two minutes, I’ve received one big audio file and I just knew what I was going to get when I clicked the triangular-shaped button to play them.

I heard Dave singing my name like he was some kind of serial killer trying to find me.

Dave: “Tim… come here…”

I then heard a series of muffled noises, as if the camera was being put under something, and it was clear what: I in fact then heard the loud, audio-glitching sound of one big fart that lasted around four seconds.

Dave: “He’s waiting for you…” he sung again in that creepy tone of voice.

Another fart, just as big as the first one.

He was on fire that day!

Now I was both laughing like an idiot and having the biggest boner.

Tim: “Dude, you’re on fire! But… to be honest, that was kinda gay…” I chuckled.

Dave: “Says the guy who gets a boner when he hears a fart. You fuc*ing hypocrite.”

He then sent yet another audio file, with him singing that meme-song “I’m gay, gay, gay, I love long big c*cks”, but slightly changing the lyrics. He even put a karaoke version of it on his computer while recording the audio file.

Dave: “You are gay, gay gay, you love long big farts. ‘cuz you’re supah-super gay, and you love big…”

Fittingly enough, a huge fart from my best friend took over the last part of the song. Loud as usual, sounding like a deep chainsaw. I could just imagine how beautiful that was. But the best part was probably the fact that he was definitely farting for me. I know, not your usual “hot sexy” scenario… more like a “sweet” one, in a very twisted way of course.

I wasn’t obviously offended by that “gay song”, since I knew that Dave was just being silly as usual and his mocking words were definitely not mean-spirited.

Tim: “Aren’t you supposed to be studying right now?” I asked.

Dave: “I don’t know, aren’t you supposed to be here right now?”

Tim: “Dude, seriously. Thank you! But I’m serious… I really can’t today.”

Dave: “Alright… alright… cya tonight faggot…” he wrote, with a heart-shaped emoticon at the end.

I just rolled my eyes and chuckled a bit, then drove my attention to my own books.

This was going to be a long afternoon. But after only one minute of silence, my phone vibrated wildly: it was Dave and he was calling me. Very unusual in that moment.

“Uhm… Dave? Hello?” I picked up.

I was greeted by a series of “Dude, sorry!” and I was really confused.

“Dave… what?”

It was just Dave being adorkable I guess.

“Dude, sorry about that 'faggot'… that was bit too much, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

I laughed in disbelief. “Bro, it’s OK. I’m not offended. I know you didn’t want to insult me or anything…”

“No, Tim. That one word is not a joke and I shouldn’t have used it, sorry.”

I was just… wow. Dave went from “dominant friendly farter” to “adorable/awkward confused puppy” in mere seconds. Further proof that I was the luckiest guy alive (fetish or not): Dave cared so much for me that he even apologized for the “f-word”, which admittedly is a very bad word for a guy like me. But this time it was coming from Dave, my best friend, a guy who cares so much about me that he would even “censor” his language just to avoid unfortunate implications.

Ironically enough, the roles were switched, and he was the one saying a rapid-fire series of “sorry!” this time.

“Dave, quit with the apologizing. You’re the best.” I chuckled. “We’re bros, that’s what we do: we insult each other!”

“Alright… you sure? Not going to use that word ever again though.”

“Dave… it’s OK. You’re the best.”

“OK… OK. See you tonight. Take care.”

And he hang up.

He just wanted to make sure that he didn’t accidentally offend me by calling me a “fag”.

I would have been, if it wasn’t coming from Dave.

But then again, he also said that he was going to kick in the face whoever dared to insult me.

And he said that before he found out the truth about me: he’s always been quite protective.

“Oh come on!” I shouted, almost annoyed, merely five minutes later, when I heard the phone vibrate one more time.

It was Dave. Again.

He sent another video.

I tried to scoff at it but I was obviously loving all of this instead.

He was lying on the couch, the camera focusing on his butt in jeans. I could see both his face and butt, at the same time. It was like he filmed the video imagining my POV when he farted in my face, and I absolutely enjoyed that.

“Alright, Tim… Sorry for calling you a faggot.” he spoke in a “comically” serious voice. He truly was “sorry”, but it was clear that he was trying not to laugh. “I’m really, really sorry, believe me.”

Keeping a straight face, he ripped an incredibly loud, deep fart at the camera. He didn’t bat an eye, blink or smile. He eventually lost it towards the end of that 6-seconds long blast. He chuckled a bit and then turned “serious” again.

“That was a sad fart… we’re both sorry.”

He then closed his eyes and made a funny face, signing in relief as he ripped another long fart, the lucky camera slowly panning towards the seams and textures of the blue denim covering his powerful sagging butt. It lasted almost 10 seconds: truly a fart master. And those weren’t even on command!

“Oh my…” I whispered, staring in awe at the amazing video.

“This one was on the house…” he chuckled, right before turning the phone to his butt one last time and ripping a short series of toots, grinning wildly, clearly forcing those smaller farts out just for me. And that was it.

My boner was definitely wet now as bits of that well-known white substance poured from the tip of of my “standing” dick, slightly dampening my boxers and pants. It was like a volcano going to explode. A volcano that, just like me, couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed to the bathroom and furiously beat my meat, almost strangling my rock-hard penis with a firm grip. I didn’t last much: I literally peed sperm, thinking of Dave’s farts. The best part is that I didn’t need to imagine anything: it was all real. I laughed in relief just as I felt my penis deflating like a balloon, after it vomited its white substance. It felt good, not “masturbation good”, like “life is good”. And it was.

My best friend, Dave, was this fantastic guy who, in his own, twisted way, was taking care of me, accepting me, making me comfortable with my fart fetish. A gassy, open-minded, mildly disgusting “bro” who only wanted to preserve our friendship.

And I couldn’t be happier.

End of Episode 1

#fart story #eproctophilia #fartkink #davefarts2 #gayfart #malefarts

65 notes · View notes

alovevigilante · 3 years

Text

We were at the pool today. My ma took a few of the worst pics of me, as of late. I hate posing for photos. I look at them, and judge myself harshly. I looked nothing like I look here, when I have control of the camera. I don’t show you my extra, I got going on all around all over here, on me. The quarantine…. Let’s just say I ate my way through it… and it kinda snuck up on me and hit me like a ton of bricks when I couldn’t put on my old jeans comfortably without the additional muffin top, because I favored my spandex instead of them. (See next post for details…)

I was trying to figure out how to change my negative thought process about how I see myself physically. How do I look at ass photos of myself, without judging myself harshly? I’m asking. Seriously. It’s not a rhetorical question. Well, maybe I can start by not calling a picture of me, ass.

The other day I thought I’d try to find something to love about the things on my body I don’t. And I thought I’d try my hand at writing a love letter 💌 to my cellulite and extra lbs. but I can’t just say nice things and lie. I have to be completely honest, and choose things I can say that I will believe. That’s a tall order. How do I change the way I perceive this situation when ever since I can remember it’s been a really tough thing for me to appreciate? And if I lie, I’ll know about it. And I won’t buy into it, and I’ll feel worse. So, this is a great exercise for me, without busting my ass any more than I physically already have today. Ok?! Ok! So join me, won’t you? Here goes:

Dear cellulitis and other extra lbs on me,

Hello darlings…

Ok, I’m already in trouble, as I am not fond of cellulite or extra pounds, so they are not darlings to me. But saying, “hello assholes” isn’t nice to me either. What do you do, when you have things you can’t immediately control, about yourself that you don’t appreciate? Can you appreciate them? How do you focus on fixing what you deem as a problem without getting lost in “the problem”?

My, this is a conundrum… well, I did what I could do for today. What the hell else do I want from myself?! I can’t change it overnight! Jeez! Come onnnn, me! Give me a break! I went on a walk with my son, I did the brutal but eventually effective “Tracy Anderson” murder mat tape, which I could define better. I will call it, “yay tough for now but easier later sooooo good for me probably will not be able to walk or move for a week afterward but god bless here’s hoping I will feel less pain eventually and work out the lactic acidosis well Tracy may be wee, but she’s fiercely strong for a small woman, but that’s her job, she ducking MADE it her job, and she’s successful. Why don’t i make it my job too?! Cause I’m not built like her, and being a fitness expert isn’t me. Why don’t i get a job?! I can’t figure out what to go back to. Why aren’t I a success too?! I don’t have a good answer for that. And why doesn’t she have rolls like me when she sits down I sometimes have to tuck my belly into the elastic of my underwear when I decide to wear it. yes! I do that, harsh judges of me both internally and then subsequently externally! Do I got a problem with extreme honesty about myself?! Huh?! Huh?! Yeah! Yeahhhhh that’s what I THOUGHT (holy crap)” tape. And I did think that. So, I can choose to once again, think differently, and more positively.

Seriously… she looks amazing! Tracy is a woman whose exercise videos are great, and are challenging for me to do on the daily because I’m out of practice. So Tracy Anderson isn’t the issue. The issue is me. The issue is what and how I feel about myself. I went on the treadmill after I saw this photo…. Inspired action, yes. But what was the inspiration? Fear of rejection or self love? A little mixed bag, I think.

So, because I feel the way I do, I am also avoiding grains and sugar like a mother that I am. And I’m drinking so much water that I’m spending 20 out of the 24 hours, peeing! What more can I do?! Well, maybe I can give myself a ducking break in the meantime. Maybe, I can do something else and not think about my bigger arms, stomach and thighs. Breaking from that train of thought will allow me a brain vacation away from judging my extra pounds and cellulite, and from hurting my own feelings. Maybe, in the meantime, I can appreciate my new boobs, which grew a whole cup size with the weight gain. Yay boobies!!!!

Well, that’s one way to look at it. Another, is not to look at it for awhile. Maybe I can go listen to music, or dance, or learn how to play the accordion or buy up all the tickets to a blue grass concert and give them away for free like some super cool people do. Whatever I decide, I’m going to choose to do something that is actually good for me, that I can enjoy and appreciate while I change for my more desired results! I can decide to think better about myself, so I can make choices, that will lead to better options to aid in my happiness down the line.

Now, I was just reminded by myself, that my ass is bigger too. That is a subjective thing whether it’s good or bad, but since we’re trying to make better thought choices let’s say, like Martha Stewart says hopefully about her ass, that it’s “a good thing”. Since my boobies are now huge, I’m now balanced. Bigger boobies, bigger culi too. Stands to reason. Ok! Great! I’ll start my letter again…

Dear extra on me that I once didn’t appreciate,

Guess what?! I like my bigger boobies! You’re still pretty perky. Also, to my culo, yes, you are bigger, but now we can wear tighter clothing with a greater effect! Yes! We are more pronounced in our lady regions…. Nice! And I’m actively toning the rest nicey nice like to match the other parts I enjoy, so, that’s cool too! Healthy me? Yes please! Ok! Great!

Hugs n kisses,

See?! I’m going to figure out how to get right with me now if it kills me! No. We don’t want it to kill, we just want to be happier, right ladies who judge their bodies on the regular like me?! Don’t let this happen to you! Choose to find something about you to appreciate, and bolster the crap out of that until you notice that you’re happier. The rest will fall into place. But don’t let it fall too far down, otherwise you’ll need a bra, and I’ve given up bras for quarantine. And I’m not mad about it. There are positives to everything. Yes. And if you deem a photo of yourself ass that people take of you, don’t look. That’s one way to lose the weight. You can also make healthier choices, which includes thinking kinder thoughts about the things that you aren’t wild about in your life, or not wild about in you. 🙈🤷‍♀️😉🤣💕

Appendices: Openness to experience, is one factors of the 5 factor model, aka the 5 main personality traits in psychology. And there are 6 facets of openness (see below). I enjoy stretching my brain, and stretching my own blocks to honesty about myself, and my own personal blocks to love. Thank you, for coming with me on my journey to becoming more open about myself only. 😊

(The pie charts above and below are not mine. The openness chart below does not represent me. It’s only meant as an example of the 6 facets of openness to experience that I enjoy experimenting with on myself in a rudimentary way in my life.)

P.P. S. For those of you like me interested in learning more about how your brain structures affect your personality and how your experiences affect it as well, check out this article about how the 2 are linked. Cool stuff! It won’t let me cut and paste from safari or add the link, but the article is called, “brain structures correspond to different facets of personality” from psypost.org.)

65 notes · View notes

jjkpls · 3 years

Text

Mean Yoongi 4 - Finale (M)

> genre : angst (a hell of a lot), smut

> pairing : min yoongi x reader (f)

> total words : 11k+

> warnings/content : takes place post rona quarantine, explicit sexual content (bj, fingering, dirty talk, lowkey cum play), bad writing (it’s been a while, i hope you don’t feel the struggle too much)

> summary : You haven’t talked to Yoongi in so long, now that you’re allowed to see him again, you’re not sure how to do it anymore.

> previous

"Your hair has grown a lot."

I don't say anything. I stare, probably a bit cold, I don't make an effort to answer. There's a lot of things to say but no words seem right. Her attempt sucks anyway. I can tell, from the way she nibbles on her bottom lip, eyes shying away, that she thinks the same.

The moment is filled with tension. The bad kind of tension. She's fidgety, feeling awkward. I feel it too but I'm better at hiding it. I've always been. Sitting back in my chair, observing her attentively, I can't help my insides from twisting on themselves, my heart from squeezing painfully in my chest. She's the same, mostly. With a shadow under the eyes she didn't use to have, a pallor I hate on her cheeks -usually painted that lovely shade of crimson, whenever I'm here to watch, as if the colour exists only for me- a slump in her stance. I wonder what I'm like to her. My hair's changed, as she mentioned. It's quite long, it's grown indeed, and enough for my natural colour to take over my whole head. I am tired, both in body and mind. So much so, I don't find the energy to tease her like I would before. And maybe, that's the biggest thing that's changed about me, and this sole thing is turning me into someone else entirely. I may as well be a whole someone else. Not the man who used to, every now and then, sprinkle glimpses of an awkward grin I've never gotten used to wearing but that I know, she loves. Certainly not the one who teased her with a relationship she could graze but not catch, with my fingers deep in her cunt, using crude and harsh words foreign to my lips straight in her ear, because she secretly loves it. Dancing on her feet, playing with her own fingers, gesticulating and waiting, hoping for an easy way out to manifest somehow. Probably for me to grant it to her because no matter how difficult I make myself to be, I've always been good at that. Dictate and guide how things go between us. I am sweet even if I wouldn't ever admit it aloud and it's been convenient, always, for her. I'm sort of curious to see how it'll go, how it can go if for once, I'm not making any effort for the both of us. I raise from my seat, eyes dropping from her. (She's wearing Converse, I note. This probably because she didn't plan on seeing me.) Hands digging deep in my pockets, I'm not sure I can approach her. These weird, implemented reflexes raise in her too. People don't do it so much any more. Getting close. And I can see her flinch in impulse before her eyes grow big and demanding. "I got tested-" She cuts herself short. It sounds weird. To speak in this deafening silence, she can hear it as much as I can. And to say those words too. She doesn't have to finish the sentence, I get the idea and from the shade of her voice, I can tell her results have turned out negative. Maybe I'm a bit irresponsible. Maybe a bit too desperate. In any case, it makes me scoff, roll my eyes. Staring down at my feet, hair hiding most of my face to her, I have to bite back on my tongue the words that almost roll out. Something about not giving a shit about that, and her being ridiculous. I don't really trust my mouth, I have no idea what would come out of it, therefore I don't speak. My hand reaches forward, bony fingers catching the front of her shirt before I'm dragging her to me. Very naturally, as if it hasn't been months since the last time I've touched her, as if even before that we were used to holding unto each other like that, she melts in my arms. "Why didn't you call?" She could, technically, ask me the same thing: I could have done it. I hope she doesn't ask. I wouldn't know what to say to her. How honest to be. I'd probably say that I was waiting for her to do it first. Which sounds ridiculous, childish as hell but couldn't be more true. I'd say, if I had a different tongue, that wouldn't get tied up anytime deep feelings are involved, that I was worried and terrified and sad, like I had not been in a long while. And all this because she wouldn't call, she wouldn't reach out for me and my heart, probably too profound and too serious, couldn't quite comprehend and certainly not accept her silence. Those months drove me crazy. Literally. I came to ask myself if I didn't make it all up. If the special bound between us had ever really existed or if it was just all projection. "You didn't either." She ends up saying. Clearly, she's as speechless as I am when it comes to explaining months, almost half a year, of pure dumbassery. It's not like it's necessary to explain anyway. She should just know how to tell me that she missed me. And I should know to do it too. She's better at that stuff. Not that good but still better than I am, I think. If she can't do it then I'm not sure I can even try. But today I'm different, as I said. And when she accuses me like she just did, I tense but don't let go. I can hear the way her breath catches in her throat, her shoulders rising to her ear. She's probably expecting me to back away and start cursing at her. I only squeeze further though, sliding my chin along her shoulder so to tuck my neck nicely with hers, humming pure appreciation, when it feels as comfortable and warm as it possibly can. She smells wonderful, she's warm and so willing to let me wrap myself around her. "I wasn't at my best so- I thought I'd just wait for you to call when you would-" I found the courage, apparently, to say all the things that's been heavy on my mind. It's easy when she's this tender. Embodiment of warmth, of welcoming, of loving, I can only be serene, voice low and soft. "But you never did." The only reason I allow myself to reproach the things that technically she can also blame me for, is because I know, that pressed that hard and that close against her, she can feel my heart beating insanely, exposing and telling on me. "You should have!" I don't need to say anything for her to gather that I'm not amused. I unwrap from her, deciding she's being too much of a stubborn brat. I sigh, watching her pointedly not watching me. She yelps and finally grants me her pretty eyes when a pinch to the back of her thigh, right under her ass, scalds her. Here's her "Mean Yoongi", as she so calls me, according to the Snapchat conversation she shares with Taehyung. I see her bite back a smile, her pretty lip flushed when she releases it. "What was that for?" She whines as if it's not fair, rubbing the soreness of her thigh with one hand. I smile mostly with my eyes, deciding to ignore the tears that have gathered in her eyes while I wasn't looking. I back away, taking a stand against the top of my desk, arms crossed tight on my chest. "You deserve way more than that. Lucky for you, I feel lazy." Her gaze follows mine, aimed at the leather sofa. The thing presently empty but virtually filled with the substantial memory of that one fateful time I touched her for the first time, her ass made red by my ministrations. I can't do that today. I'm too soft for now. I still enjoy seeing her squirm, blush and shy away while simultaneously loving thinking about it though. "I could tell you the same, Yoongi. You could have-" I'm losing patience. It's not entirely against her. It's more accurately against us. We're playing the same pointless game. The unnecessarily torturing game of denying, of dismissing. I should probably just drop it, even if it hurts and leaves me with too many pressing interrogations. I might look a bit more serious when I start studying her face with great attention. She's beautiful. I missed seeing her. The mental picture I had kept of her, along with the real ones I'd spent months looking at, didn't do her much justice. She looks somewhat surreal. Prettier than I remember, yet printed with the same aura I recognize. "I told you why already." I whisper to her. My own voice surprises me. It's as if my heart, that's been too hurt, has been left tender, exposed and I'm turned weak even in demeanour. I bet it's confusing for her. It is for me. Feels disarming. "But- what's the point then? If when you're down you don't call-" To that, I don't know what to say. I don't know how to admit to her, if she hasn't guessed it yet, the extend of my inability to seek for what I need, for what makes me feel good, for her who I've wanted and craved for. Of course, I needed her. Of course, I wanted her to be here for me -and be needed and wanted by her. I don't know how to say it though therefore I kiss her. A soft press to the corner of her mouth. I smile, probably looking dumb, when I see her wide eyes blinking, sending one lone tiny tear on her cheekbone. Her cheeks turn red because apparently, she's not immune to me and my kisses anymore, her immediate, strong reactions turning out to be the same as the ones she used to have, in the very, very beginning, when she was so putty, so lenient, such a good girl and also, the shyest and most innocent little thing. She needs some time to accommodate, to say the least. She's barely kissing me back. Simply letting me pepper her mouth with kisses, closing her eyes, hands reaching for my sweatshirt yet not so much giving me back.

After too long of not enough, I need to stop. Because what I think I know might not be so right anymore. Maybe I read things wrong, yet again, and she's not in the same place I stand. After looking at her face, and her eyes, who struggle to dry up and look at me, I ask, "What's wrong?", granting her all of my attention. "Wha- you, what's wrong?" I scoff. She looks like she's about to cry while snarking like a brat. "You're really testing my patience." "You're different. You don't have patience normally." I tilt my head to the side, a tiny smile lifting one corner of my lips. I can't say it's not true. "I thought you wanted me sweeter?" She stares, frowning. Confused, embarrassed and almost upset. I know I'm a weird fucking version of myself right now. The one that hasn't come out a lot these past few years and that she'd certainly never met before. I'm scared she doesn't like it. Maybe she hates it. If she liked me before, there's no reason she'd like that one Yoongi, is there? "I'm just messing with you. I'm tired and-" Gentle fingers wrap around her hands, intimating her to walk forward, forward and close enough for me to close my lips on hers again. "It's been a while." I let her look into my eyes, read the longing and probably the sadness. "Sorry if I'm weird. If you don't like me like that just- bear with me for today, hm?" "I bear with you all the time." Well. That's not even the last thing I expected her to say. Pretty mean for a sweet girl like her. "What does that mean?" She shrugs. She knows but she won't say. She has that pout on her mouth. The tilted one she does whenever something's been said loud and clear in that little head of hers but she's not generous enough to indulge in sharing. I stare, disapprovingly, thumb chastising kindly her cheek. "That's rough." "I don't mean it like that-" "Then what do you mean?" My mouth finds her again for an instant. It's a soft gentle kiss that doesn't hint at anything more. She remains silent. "Cats got your tongue? You usually can't shut up but you're so quiet today." Through her cute pout, she mumbles, "I guess I'm weird too today." My phone buzzes where it lays on my desk. With a quick glance, I can tell it's a text from Namjoon. I don't even need to read it. I can guess it. He's probably calling me an idiot while simultaneously demanding me not to be one.

I heard him earlier, I bet she doesn't know, when he held her hostage by telling that I was awake and that she should go say hi. He held her hostage because she was just passing by. From how loud Taehyung and Jimin were when the front door banged opened, half an hour ago, I could tell they were drunk as hell and she had just planned on dropping them off and leave. And Namjoon, being the good man and even better friend that he is, wouldn't let that happen. How could he when he's seen me all those months in states he probably hoped, back when we were young trainees, that he'd never had to see me again in? It hurt and it still does a little, to imagine that for the first time after so long, after finally being freed from the government harsh but necessary restrictions, she would come so close to me yet consider pass by me, without saying hi, without inquiring if I'm here, even. If it were not for the firm, absolutely non-subtle suggestion coming from Namjoon, she would have done it. She would have left ignoring me. Then she knocked gently on my door, I could tell she was terrified when I opened it and faced her, quiet. And maybe it was pure projection but I felt she wanted to be here. She was scared and embarrassed, didn't know what to say, what to do with herself and me, but she wanted to stay and try to untie this shitty intricate ball of knots. The thing is, it's late. It's super fucking late and I'm reminding when the screen of my phone lights up again to remind me to check the text I just received. She arrived too late at the dorms. We wasted, collectively, too much time not saying much and here we are, standing in the dimly lighted studio, facing each other with too much of an ambiguous tension surrounding us. Everything is unclear. The kisses she would allow me to leave on her lips but not give back to me, tasting lovely but with an aftertaste, a bitter taste of confusion, raising questions as far as their meanings – are they greetings or goodbyes. It's past one in the morning but I'm not ready to let her leave, especially when I don't know what she'd be leaving behind. Anxiety is creeping in my bosom. It's pissing me off. Vainly I bend over, to my side, tapping my finger on my phone to have it lit up. Maybe Namjoon is not just insulting me and has left actual practical advice for me to follow and not fuck this up. "Yoongi?" My ears perk up but I don't look up yet. My eyes are messed up from the exhaustion and I struggle to read. I see keywords: idiot (as expected), asshole, chance, upset. I see the word "love" even, that makes me wince. How can he believe he'd help me by sending me this word when she's standing right in front of me? She called yet she still has not talked further. I shut my phone instantly, worried to have been too lowly engaged to her, to have vexed her in any way, to have been an idiot, precisely what Namjoon threatened me into not being. I raise an interested eyebrow, inviting her to talk and she finally does so, fast and barely audible, "Can I spend the night?" She grimaces. I mean to frown but I realise my face is already squished in a scowl. Maybe her grimacing makes sense. "You mean here, at the dorms?" I ask, forcing my expression to quiet down by a tonne because my shock seems wrongly interpreted by her. That seems to help. She looks at me with her big demanding eyes, the ones I know. The ones that beg, unapologetically for my affection. She nods. "With me or- in the spare room...?" She nods again. "That doesn't answer my question, ___." "Yoongi." Here comes the little brat tone half-whining, half-menacing because she doesn't get her way straight away. How lovely to meet her again. I decide to spare her from any torture, for now, shutting the light off and guiding her, with my hands on her waist, through the dark and out my studio. "Why do you even ask? How many times have I invited you to stay?" I whisper in her ear, adoring the way I feel her tremble against me. "It's different now." She huffs, not the least hiding her annoyance. I can admit things are different now. Sort of feels like a whole different fucking life, if you ask me. I wouldn't have imagined that I needed the world to be taken upon such a devastating global catastrophe for my lover to accept spending one full night with me, for the first time. I don't even see the correlation, honestly. I don't even know why she didn't want to before. I forced myself not to dwell on this question too much. Simply accepting that she wouldn't and that's her right to not want to. But that was weird. "Is it?" My arm reaches before her, turn the handle right because she's left lost and awaiting in the dark. There's a gust of her smell coming to me. The sweet, comforting, familiar and magically charming, addicting scent. There's the click of the knob in the dark, and the door opens up on the hallway's bright lightening. No words are exchanged as I lead her, a hand gently pressed to the bottom of her back, so close to her ass the idea that I could just let it slide down can't leave my agitated mind. Most doors are closed shut, there's no much noise being heard in the whole apartment apart from the occasional high pitched giggles from the two drunk kids in the living room. She's too quiet to be entirely at ease with the situation. I don't even think she's ever come inside my and Seokjin's bedroom. Seokjin.

I wonder how aware she is of the fact that I'm sharing my room with someone else. If she does, she didn't seem to mind when she asked, with her battling lashes and irresistible pout, to spend the night with me. If we do end up making him spend the night elsewhere, he might curse at me or give me the cold shoulder for a minute or two tomorrow, but he'll live. "Is it? Different?" I ask again. We've reached the bedroom and I decide to lock the door for good. If Seokjin were to, perhaps, come to our room to head to bed, he'd be met with a locked door.

She doesn't answer, still. I'm pretty sure she allows herself that because of how lenient I am with her today. She knows I'm not going to force the words out of her. I sigh calmly, resolved, black eyes patient as they fix her. "Of course, it is. Isn't it to you?" "What is?" Hands raised to the sky, eyebrows high in bewilderment, her confusion, so big it's almost revolt, couldn't be more explicit. "I'm asking because I don't know, ___. You don't talk to me, how am I supposed to know?" "Sorry." She mumbles. Blushing from embarrassment, as she lowers her hands, looks down and sinks on herself. "It's ok." My hand leads hers to my lips, I kiss its back. "Why didn't you call?" "Yoongi, sometimes I just don't know how you feel. No, always- I mean, never, I never know how you feel-" I'm not sure how much she means to hurt my feelings. I'm pretty sure she knows, if the way she seeks for words, not to offense me, is any tell. But she sucks at preserving them. Her words sting like hell. "During- I just- I didn't want to force myself into you if that's not what you wanted, that's all." "And that's not what you wanted? Just hearing me, you didn't want that?" I have to ask. It's probably better talking about her feelings than mine, right now. "Course, I did..." She sulks. "Then why not try? At least for yourself, I don't get you." Maybe resentment of a tortured, sensitized heart is unleashing. I don't want to ever harm her but she's done it, a lot. I don't want to believe it but maybe we've parted too long for a cold, unpenetrable wall not to have taken place between us. At least, provisionally. It can't be that unpenetrable. "I'm sorry." She lowers her head, whispering. Looking all saddened. Guilty. Nervous. And of course, I'm too soft. "You used to force yourself into my life all the fucking time, sneaking in my studio like an affection craving puppy, you didn't care back then but now that I like you, you don't want it anymore." Her eyes blink, shift suddenly up. Wide and alarmed. They scrutinize me sitting on the bed, checking my own nails, pretending to be nonchalant about the bitty bomb I've just dropped. "Wouldn't peg you for the heartbreaker type but ok-" "Don't say stuff like that." "Like what? Stuff that I mean?" I roll my eyes because the moron watches me with an emotion in her gaze, anger, she's menacing me. "It's not funny." "It really isn't." I shake my head along. "I talked with a friend and he said the reason you didn't call is probably that I was messing with you too much, not saying anything you wanted to hear. That you got tired of waiting for me." "Namjoon?" I nod. I had to talk to Namjoon. Because I had to talk about her to someone. Taehyung was simply out of the question. He's her best friend. One of the closest of my own friends. He probably knows me too well, knows I'm not that well-off in my personal life, in my heart and mind to be with his non-biological sister. And Namjoon is kind and loves me a lot, even if we wouldn't talk about that. So much so that it makes him genuinely happy to see me excited about someone. "It's not really- that. I'm just a coward, Yoongi. I didn't know how to talk to you and ask you the things I wanted to and-” She's staring down, at her own fingers pkaying with each others. Cute. “Yeah, I don't know, I didn't know how you felt about me." "I thought I was obvious." She shrugs. She shrugs. It should anger me. I'd have the right to be mad. I was obvious. I've been obnoxious. Letting her mess with me and my stuff because she owns me and therefore, by definition, also everything I have. Letting her in. Filling up all the room, all according to her own whims. "Com'here," I demand, rather gently, spreading my legs and leaning back, hands holding me up. She obediently steps forward, takes her seat on my lap, right where I want her. That's perfect. Everything I needed to obliviate the fact that she hasn't confessed liking me back yet. "What is it you wanted to ask me?" She's hovering over me, slightly taller, should feel superior. But her pretty face is turned down, eyes avoiding mines from shame, staring at her hands toying with the strings of my sweatshirt. The bubble, so intimate, is small, very very small and it's hard to live in it. The air she's breathing is mine, the same way the air I'm breathing is hers, and she must be aware of the way all I'm seeing are the tiny, pretty details of her face. "Yoongi. You really like me?" "Course, I do." My cheeks burn from embarrassment. I kind of hate it but I live for the grin she struggles to hide. "Stupid." Totally free and unnecessary but not unjustified, I deem. "Then can you be my boyfriend? Or like would you- would you like to be?" With a hurried press of my lips to the corner of her mouth, I attempt to hide the grin growing on them. "Took you long enough." I fail miserably as I can't help but smile against her mouth, poorly kissing it. "It doesn't answer my question." She points out. I know it doesn't. I hate how happy and rather emotional I felt just having her ask me to be her boyfriend. Who would have thought I would mind this much? Honestly, I wouldn't have guessed it. I never thought it'd move me that much. But I suppose, I should have known by now, that, that's what she does: she moves me. It's a breathtaking kiss, stolen or given while I press her down on her back, body not hovering but laying on hers, every inch of hers pointedly connected to mine, that shuts the conversation down. It does not have to matter. Now that we've found each other back, we believe again we have all the time in the world. Maybe it's a mistake. The state of our world, these days, tend to suggest we don't, we never know how much time we'll have and what exactly it'll be made of. I didn't actually answer but maybe the answer is so fucking evident, she should trust my lips and my hands and my eyes each time they linger on a part of her they seem to have a liking for. And perhaps, she could just accept me and everything else along and assume rightfully that if I wasn't saying it all, it wasn't because I didn't feel it, didn't want to, didn't have anything to say but because I could not. "The gears in that head of yours are killing the mood," I mumble against her cheek, bothered by her loss of commitment, here again, to make me feel lonely when she's just right fucking here. "What is it?" I ask in a gentle whisper.

Here above her, close enough to still share breath but far enough to see her face, it's impossible to act like a dick. Her eyes are shiny, dripping emotions. I can see them clearly without knowing exactly how to read them. She's held back by so many things but as always a timid mouth won't let them slip. I've yet, after all this time, to decide if I love or hate that about her. She can be so open, in appearance, she's animated, she's enthusiastic, she's bright and welcoming. But at the same time, the corridor she lets you in hides a door at the end that she simply cannot allow to let you slide through. I've caught glimpses of this room when she left the door ajar a few times, mostly when I'm balls deep in and maybe a bit too soft when I whisper sweet words in the shell of her ear. She's mostly a mirror of myself, a better version though. When my eyes can look bored, uninterested and sometimes borderline mean, hers are always soft, always kind. It doesn't matter what or who they are set on. Even when she's upset, when I've said something she didn't like to hear, when she's been teased one too many times by Taehyung or her boss has been a fucking asshole all day long, she'll have her eyebrows cutely dropping down, mimicking anger and failing poorly because the eyes, right under it, are still as tender and bright and beautiful. Right now the door is ajar and from what I can see in her eyes, she looks like she's in love with me. It's pure torture because I know, and I can see that too, that even if it were to be the case she wouldn't say, she wouldn't say the words, not to me, not like that anyway, she couldn't. Perhaps I'm seeing things. Perhaps it's wishful thinking, or worse, my own reflection I catch in her eyes without recognising it. After a few seconds of her deliberately ignoring my question and me not getting impatient because I get to just watch her, I decide it doesn't really matter if she is or not in love with me if she keeps looking at me like that. The illusion so realistic, shocking my heart with delicious waves of electricity, I could live with that. "Yoongi?" And if she keeps saying my name like that, like a whine, like a shy little girl, I'll be spoiled forever. She says my name a lot today, I realise, as my spine is taken by an umpteenth wave of chill. Maybe she missed saying it. I surely missed hearing it. "Yeah?" I'm even more breathless than she is. Hovering above yet hanging from her mouth. I must look desperate to her. Even if this has the potential to tickle me the wrong way, I decide not to mind. It's pointless to fight back innate facts, isn't it? I am desperate for her, have been for fucking months, before even circumstances distanced us, I thought it could even end up killing me at some point. It was bad after a couple of weeks when I realised she'd still not called me. Not even a text or a word passed through Taehyung. Nothing at all and I had the sickening feeling growing in my stomach that it wouldn't change. After making sure she was ok, wherever she was, with whoever or maybe alone, she was fine and she was simply not reaching out for me, the torture really started. I just didn't get it. How could she, the most annoying little bug, stop doing what I thought her to like best, it is to say, bugging me? The last time we saw each other was fantastic. She had left slamming my door but with the pretty shade of infatuation on her cheeks, I had no doubt, even if things were not entirely cleared out yet -because I thought the cat and mouse game was entertaining to her as much as it was to me, and because at the time, we still felt like we had all the time in the world for this and for everything else- that we were good, better than good actually. I was confused, utterly lost. Too coward and too upset to reach out myself. If she wanted to talk to me, she would have done it, wouldn't she? She used to before. "Can you lie down? On your back, I mean." The request makes me raise an eyebrow. "You're always sorta on top of me, and I-" The sentence is never finished. She's embarrassed if the cute button of a mouth she wears along with the stealthy avoiding eyes are any teller. For some reasons, my heart beats faster in my chest in an uncomfortable thumping. Maybe I'm a grumpy old man. A grumpy control freak of an old man who's terrified by the least changement. Because Change to me, in all honesty, sounds horrifying -which sounds ridiculous given chances were bet on changes that ended up bringing the life that I now live, some rollercoaster, made of the worst up and downs sitting on top of the least trustworthy, stable ground. It's scary, feels ominous even when it's just my now-girlfriend sweetly starting to ask, and demand for things in my bed. Maybe I need to chill. Match better the chaos that's inside with the unbothered, emotionless exteriors. All I can think about is how lame her justification sounds given, "I can recall quite a good amount of times when you were on top.", and therefore, freak out about what's really behind her request. She frowns then glares, right in my eyes, at last, and sighs. She's being the snarky little girl who doesn't want to discuss and that's cute. That's adorable because I'm on top and I decide but she thinks she can control, demand from me. And she'd be right. She can ask anything from me. She always could. Rolling my eyes like I don't care, lazily rolling on my back like I'm not nervous as hell to just lay there for her, I watch carefully and savour the way she bites on her smiling lips, ecstatic as she is to have been granted an upperhand over me. She takes the seat she owns on my thighs, a mischievous glint decorating her gaze. "Do you remember our first time?" It does the trick. Her ephemeral sense of confidence flatters and she sinks down a little on herself -conveniently on my crotch-, flushing darkly. "I'm not senile, 'course I remember." Softly, the pads of my fingers press on her covered thighs. My eyes fixed on her lively face. She can't really bear it, they might burn her a little. She tries to flee, falling over, hiding her face in the crook of my neck. Her lips brush my skin, she sighs there, it's a wonderful, dip into her. "Remember the first time?" "I just said yes." She whispers the same way I do. I pinch very lightly the back of her thigh, not to hurt, just to warn her because she has a little edge to her tone. Of course, she'd be so impatient when I find myself able to be patient. "When we met for the first time." She leans back, curious eyes peeking at me. A lock of hair is brushing her cheek, I drag it behind her ear, kissing her lips with my thumb because I'm too lazy and laid too comfortably to try and raise up to her mouth. She frowns for a second before she shrugs. I can see she doesn't get where I'm going with that. If she can't even remember, she surely won't see. "You were in the kitchen with Tae, being loud as hell until I came in and you just stopped talking altogether." She rolls her eyes. "I thought you hated me." "I was just shy." She's a bit vexed that I'm bringing it up. I know that she hates that, when it's pointed out, that she gets shy and embarrassed and timid. I understand because I'm the same. The difference between us is that I hide pretty well my inner turmoil with a mask made of coldness, of confidence or disinterest. "You were, weren't you? Now, look at you..." Her eyes don't quit mine. She knows damn well what I mean. "Sitting on me like you're sitting on a throne." She actually giggles at that, tilts her head to the side, gaze going up to the skies as if she's considering the thought, a blatant giddy feeling of importance and timid pretension written all over. She knows it's right. I'm not sure to what extent she understands how much she owns me but she knows there's something big that's unsaid if she's allowed to just have me like that just from asking -only mildly politely. "Could have imagined that, princess?" She's too honest, shakes her head no. I smile lightly, amused because now that I've raised the question, I realise I couldn't have imagined that either. I didn't like her too much at the beginning. Or to be more precise, she gave me a bad first impression. I'm never good with new people but this girl, it just went wrong. I'd been chanted so many praises about her and when finally, I got to meet her because she was for once hanging out at the dorms when other people than Taehyung and Jimin were here, she shut off as soon as I walked in, for some reasons I didn't get at the time, decided to be unfair and that I was not deserving of her infamous sweetness. The stark contrast between her bright boisterous peals of laughter before I entered the room and heavy mean silence once I'd sat on one of the bar stools made me livid. I thought it'd be the end of it. I wouldn't get to know the person, the "amazing person", I've been told about because I wasn't meriting somehow. And after months of forced proximity, because she kept being invited over, involved with outings, something clicked within her and she became the annoying little brat I've known her to be and just had to grow fond of -because it was easier than to just stay reluctant to her advances and become mad each time she'd come to me. It didn't take too long, if I'm being totally honest, to go from deeply confused vexation to an out of character giddy fondness. I've never said it. Don't really plan on doing it. Even now that I'm feeling all mellow and sappy as fuck. She doesn't need to be told from my mouth anyway. I'm pretty sure Namjoon, if he hasn't had a word about this yet, will do later. And from her ever insistence, her never flattering determination even when I, from self-admission, had been harsh or mean in the way I could have told her off, I suspect she knows, she's always known. Her dizzying smile tastes the sweetest and her annoying voice is addicting, as if dipped in a thick layer of dopamine. And I'm too weak for pretty smiles matching pretty eyes, and for brats harassing me with their affection. Therefore when she starts peeling my shirt off of me and spreading her kisses everywhere she can reach, I don't say anything even though I half-hate it. I hate feeling exposed like that when she's fully clothed and on top of me. I don't really like in general being too naked especially for her knowing what she has for me compared to what I've got for her. And she's touching me, one of her hand pressing my wrist onto the mattress and I know what it means, she doesn't want me to protest or try and touch her. I don't because I want to be good for her, for once, not be an ass and impose everything because she seems to want peculiar things today and I can do that for her. But I adore the way she's humming against my skin, smiling uncontrollably against it and sprinkling the most tender kisses. For once, I'm letting her have her way, and won't thrash and push her over to get the upper hand I prefer to hold, bear with the flush burning my cheeks and speeding my heart. It is nice to have her being so willing to take her time with me, with loving me, as if she really wants me. She's also very much hot precisely where she presses her centre to my cock and my patience, if exceptionally efficient today, has limits. "You-" I'm cut off by a strong shudder born from her tongue swiping along my jaw and the little suckle on my ear that follows. "Undress." I groan once half of my composure found back. "No." The short but firm answer triggers me, without taking a second to think, my hand, the one she hasn't been holding hostage, raises and seizes the back of her thigh meanly. "What do you mean no?" "Yoongi, listen. I think I'm tired of you bossing me around." My eyes grow wide at that. She has the acutely tiny singing edge to her voice, the one that I know well for it rings louder every time she's embarrassed or doesn't feel the most confidence. But she's standing straight and tall on her throne, pressing steadily on my crotch as she slowly explains how this will go, her way. "Now that I come to think of it-" A hard grind stealing a huff from me. "You couldn't even- you couldn't even ask me out properly! I did it! I do everything all the time and you still get to choose? That's not fair." "If I remember correctly I always make sure you come first, don't I? So how unfair is that, princess?" She pouts. Stops moving altogether. I can picture her in a second raise her arms to her chest and cross them tight there, frowning and sulking. The little girl is upset. She's adorable. I suppose she hopes to intimidate me somehow or to make me swoon enough to give in. It does the opposite though. The more she pouts, the brattier she gets, the more she tickles my fancy. And I always want more. She's all the more fun when she's feisty too. "I have something in mind, Yoongi." I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. Hers lower down, condescending, unwilling to give up her position. "I want to take care of you." She says, voice quieter from her prior disdainful approach. The Adam apple seems to double in size in my throat when I try to swallow this time, struggling so much so it's audible. I think I knew. I suspected something the moment she started to stare at me with those eyes. I just thought I could get away somehow, I managed to many times before. She's pretty easy to manipulate, a firm precise press of my fingers, a hot whisper to tease her core and she'd let it go. I'm pretty weak today though and here she is saying words that set me off, reach someplace dusty and far, so far away hidden within me that it feels uncomfortable. The trigger is uncomfortable. It's scary. I don't know what it'll be. I don't know how I'll handle it. I don't know if I ever want to try. Sincerely, the greatest and easiest pleasure I've ever had to indulge in has been hers. In her pleasure and her body. Her orgasms I tasted on my tongue, the ones that hug me tight, have always been the most spectacular. "You don't need to take care of me." I need to take care of you. I'm not sure where it comes from. I've come a long way in my own personal journey, I now know I deserve more than I used to believe I did. Yet I don't, I can't imagine her being the one taking care of me. It needs to be me. I need to spoil her. "You don't like that? When someone... focuses on you?" I think about a lie or a little distractive thing to say. I choose to be frank. If there's a day to be and a moment and a person with whom to be, it must be it. "Not really." "Maybe because you're not used to it. Wouldn't you like that? Because I want to. I thought about it a lot." That's the issue with her. She owns the power. Ultimately she does. Even if she doesn't feel like it, she does. Always. Today it shows in more ways than one. She's so eager, so excited, I don't know how to disappoint her. Reluctant but kindly enough, I ask. "What did you think about?" My mouth is dry as hell. I don't understand how I can be filled with so much anxiety, still. When I feel this old and this wise, and so pleased and spoiled yet, still, terrified. It should just be heaven. I don't get why sometimes the sweetest things have to be so scary to take a bite of. She smiles to herself, satisfied to find me willing to hear her. It's a shadow of promise. I will judge later on if she'll get what she wants or not. For now, I'm just hearing her out. She's sweet and she deserves to express herself. In no time, she meets me centimetres away. She's leaned over, forearms pressing a bit on my chest to keep herself from crashing completely onto me. She's beaming through her eyes, mostly, shining intensely in the dim light as she observes my face from up close. There's the scent of her shampoo, the vanilla coconut mix that I used to be obsessed with, smelling around me even when she wasn't there. It's awfully comforting to have that too sweet smell again, for real this time, teasing my senses and waking up a lovely nostalgia. With the tips of her hair brushing slightly the bare skin of my neck, how am I supposed to refuse anything she asks me. "I realised that we've never- I've never got to- taste you." The last words are not even pronounced out loud. There's the t I read on her teeth biting slightly her pink tongue, the rest of the syllabus she just gives up on and it's for me to read on her lips. Given how obsessed I am with them, the task is not that demanding, her request couldn't be clearer to me. I should be ecstatic, shouldn't I? I'm not. I'm nervous as hell. I don't know what's wrong with me. "That's what you thought about a lot? My dick in your mouth?" She flushes bright pink but doesn't waver. She decided she's a big girl and gets to fantasise about what she wants and she won't be shamed for it, not now that's she's grown the courage to ask aloud. I chuckle humourlessly. "Princess." I can almost see her ears point out at the pet name. She seems to like it. I think I'm keeping it. "You're too pretty to have a dick in your mouth." Her face twists in the loudest mask of indignation and revolt. Straightening her back again to stand tall over me, she looks down on me under her severe set of frown eyebrows. "What does that even-" Her hand falls flat on my chest, meeting the skin hard enough for a sharp slapping sound to resonate in the quiet room. "Yoongi! It doesn't make anyone any less pretty to- what are you even saying? How can you- Why are you diverting? You're always diverting-" She raises her hands to the sky in pure bewilderment. Her face is still contorted in anguish though, I can tell she's not done arguing about this. "I'm telling you I want you in my mouth and you- what do you say to me?" I can't really hold back the cackling laughter erupting straight from my bosom. She's startled by it, upset still but unsure of how serious I am and for some reason, when she stares at me laughing, the tiny shadow of a smile colours the corner of her mouth. The tempting beautiful thing suddenly appears only a few centimetres from my face. She looks down on me with all the seriousness she can gather, eyes squinted tight. "Are you serious, Yoongi? Do you really not like that?" How honest should I be? The ever same existential question. How honest can I be? "Because you- like everything else and I thought you liked going down on me but- do you not like receiving?" Because my own personal question is loud, louder than the soft whisper of her voice, and so much more pressing because finding the answer seems to be more essential, it'd answer her questions and a lot more, the ones she may have but never dare ask. I hope to find the answer or at least a hint of it in her eyes. I don't know any other more evident places where to look for it. My quiet gaze shuts her off a little, I see how she doesn't physically back away but there is something in her eyes wavering and suddenly she looks kind of sad. She might just be disappointed but the effect is immediate, I feel my heart cracks. "I just," I raise for a second just to find some courage on her mouth. "I'm better at giving, it's all. I feel weird just sitting here and taking, it's just weird." It's just hard. "But it's the very principle of Lo-" She cuts herself off before she finishes but too late for me not to make out the last syllable. "Of what?" I ask, a growing crooked grin teasing. I allow myself that because I know that I can't get her there. She might even be more scared than I am. That's funny how I find ease in teasing her in those places yet I know that if we really do get there and start being serious about it, or if she'd dare tease me back, I'd lose my shit. I can hardly handle her calling my name in a whine as if she needs me so much she can't handle me not being a constant part of her. "Do you really not like that? Like not want it?" She asks, eyes boring in mine, looking all serious and grave. I can't disappoint her when she looks at me like that. I don't want to. "I don't want to do anything you wouldn't want or like but-" Gently, the pad of my thumb caresses her soft cheek. I'm not sure what I've done to deserve her. I'm pretty sure there's been a mistake somewhere, an error in the matrix. While I'm not bad, I'm quite good as a person, I'm persuaded that pretty girls with hearts that gentle can't be for me. I can't even tell her how beautiful she is. "Actually no buts. Just, do you want it or not?" How could I say no? When she asks so nicely, so many times to and of course, she looks the way she does. I might be a huge hypocrite. Turning this into her using her charms to get what she wants rather than me accepting to be selfish because it's easier that way. Nonetheless, it's almost reluctantly, with a fat lump in my throat that I let out a tiny, "'Kay." She leans over, eyebrows high. "Was it a yes?" I hum, rolling my eyes a bit. I'm feeling embarrassed, too embarrassed, and she's bouncing on my cock like it's the most exciting news she's heard all year -which might actually be given the circumstances.

It's nice but confusing.

Does she like me that much or is she just really into giving heads? Suddenly I have flashbacks of all those times she got on her knees to fetch something from a low hanging shelf, or under the coffee table. I just thought, innocently, that she had no sense of adulthood and she didn't realise, that once adults are grown they don't get on their knees like children, looking up to you talking like it's not weird at all. Like it's not suggestive at all. Like if I were just to ask nicely she'd probably say yes and I'd be the opening of a pants' fly away from sitting comfortably on her tongue. I can't lie and say that I've never thought about it. Evidently. I have. Probably each and every time she's done that little supposedly innocent thing, and then, a few other times in between. She's giddy when she leans even further, sliding off to the side of my lips when she tries to smooch them. She's even giddier when she crawls down my body, hoping to the side so that she can start unfastening my belt and jeans. She's giddy but quiet when she starts pulling my pants off of me. She's feeling timid, I can read it on her cheeks, but she can't possibly be as much as I am. I don't think I've ever had her undress me like that, in the open, when the light is too bright for comfort and her eyes so focused on me. Now that I come to think of it, I can count on one hand the number of times I've been naked with her. And it's never been like that. With her not fucked out enough to not pay so much attention. With her eyes roaming over me, and every now and then glimpses to my face, gaze smiling and tender. The gaze doesn't leave me as her tiny hand tentatively reaches for my covered shaft. It still remains there, attached, for the longest time, while her fingers pressingly roam over it. I twitch under the touch, heart pounding harder, full of anticipation and anxiety. "Don't drag this shit forever." Maybe I could be nicer. Maybe I could show more patience -if I hadn't been so challenged all evening, I'd probably have some left but clearly, I don't. Maybe I could be less of an ass, I could precisely be the sweet, lovely boyfriend she deserves when she's moments and centimetres away from swallowing me down her throat. Probably I should make more efforts. Or learn how and when to make them. I'm probably not the most practical right now. Being rough when I should be sweet and sweet when she needs me to push her a bit. "But I wanna take my time." She says that with a smile on her pink lips, not vexed at all. And here she proves once again that maybe I don't know shit about her and women in general. Because when I feel like she should get offended or at least aggravated, she just takes me in and finds something that she likes in my insufferable self. I simply bite on my lip, pensive. Doesn't say much to her but she sees it and translates it a way that fits me well. A lazy blink later, I have the ghost of a new kiss on the corner of my mouth and then her lips tightly wrapped around my tip, concealing the fresh breeze of air that her undressing me completely brought. It's undefinable, the sensation of her hot wetness wrapped around me. She doesn't waste a second, visibly having changed her mind about taking her time, trying to have me as far as she can. Bobbing her head and sucking me in with so much enthusiasm, I have red flushing my cheeks when I hear the sounds that she makes, wondering if I seem as desperate, as voluntary, as messy when I do eat her cunt - and the rash comes directly from the blatant, easy answer: a big fat yes. Of course, it would feel that good. When her pussy feels like some Heaven, naturally her mouth would have me like that. In no time, my cock is rock hard and balls tight and ready to blow. It's been months since I've felt this good and even then, I didn't have that treatment. Having someone and her, at that, giving so much of herself, I see the way she tries to catch back some air, frowning because I'm pretty sure her jaw is hurting a bit, jerking me off fast to compensate the lack of warmth and her pretty, pretty eyes, smiling at me, doing the most. My thighs are tensing, my right leg keeps jerking upward uncontrollably, fists holding tight onto the sheets, overwhelmed. I'm not sure what I've done to deserve this. And maybe I'm going to doubt the universe placing this stupid princess on my way even more now that I've had her been so good to me, by just being herself, especially given that she's turned out to be an expert and a passionate at sucking my cock. "Fuck" Here goes my tip hitting the back of her throat again. And her hands, soft and encouraging, playing with my balls, pad of her thumb pressing sometimes between my perineum. "S-stop, I need to-" "You'll fuck me later, come in my mouth." She demands, breathlessly, diving back in before I even get to protest. "You can't say shit like that." I whiningly stutter, she's brought fucking tears to my eyes. I see blurry as I stare at the ceiling, vainly trying to hold back my climax. It makes her chuckle a bit, hum something I can't possibly understand with her mouth full and bells ringing in my ears, all I capture is the vibration it sends to my whole shaft, tickling along my spine, making me bent it embarrassingly. "Really wan'you to come-" She mumbles, lips making out with my tip in the process. "Then swallow me down." It comes out before I plan on it, before I mean to say it, through gritted teeth. She slides down my length, taking me in, like my every word is her command. The unexpected rush of pleasure, like an electric shock, seizes my hand which jumps to her head and decides to stay there, fingers fighting against the very weak remain of my brain cells to grab and clench and tear the head of hair they laid on. It's when I meet the back one more time and she decides to swallow down just then that I reach it, spilling down her throat, growling aloud without meaning too, spurring few words I probably wouldn't say to her if my mind wasn't so cloudy. I'm somewhere else. Body empty of any tension and I realize that a blowjob is exactly all I needed all those months. I haven't felt this relaxed and satiated and satisfied in so long, I feel dizzy and a bit lost. Even my own bed feels foreign, maybe it's just because she's on it. Smiling down on me with her small fingers painting shape on my skin and her pretty smile kissing my chest. She kisses her way up, leaving a path of warm sprouts, takes her time right on my drumming heart, smooches my cheeks with a tiny giggle that blooms probably from the red dots I assume are on them. She looks down on me, eyes sparkly and lips stuck in an upward curve. I see her hesitating. She's unsure of something I don't get because she just blew my mind off. My fingers knead gently the flesh of her thighs, inviting her to speak if there's something she needs to say. Her soft finger presses on my lips and she raises an eyebrow. "I don't know if I can kiss you..." "Why?" I ask, probably a bit too abruptly because I'm stupid right now and I don't understand under what circumstances she couldn't press her mouth to mine. She rolls her eyes evidently, scoffs and finally points at my crotch then her mouth, flushed all over her cheeks, when she sees me still struggling to understand. "Course you can. You always can." She shrugs, eyes fleeing away. I kiss her hard on the mouth, the hand buried in her hair pressing her further onto me. I consider vaguely how gross she might believe me to be when really, I'm just a bit too whipped for her and cum, no matter if it's mine or hers and shockingly enough I realise anyone else's too, I don't fucking care, any of her kisses are kisses that I want to consume. I roll her over on the bed and kiss her harder, licking and sucking her tongue until she's just wide eyes glinting up to me. "You can always kiss me." She nods, swollen lips tilting up. She doesn't find me too gross, it seems. Good. "And thanks." One kiss. "Was really nice." She tries to bite back her grin but fails, tittering even as I pinch lightly the side of her waist. "Was it nice for you?" I kiss the side of her jaw, smiling against her as I continue, purring close to her ear, "Just like you imagined?" I can feel her frustration before she even expresses it by raising a fist ready to punch me. It makes me chuckle. That's what she deserves for putting me in this situation anyway. I can't be the only one embarrassed, especially when I made an effort to content her -even if to content her was to content me but it doesn't matter. When my hand slides so naturally down her stomach, fingers strumming teasingly along the hem of her pants, the nagging and the arguing should be postponed for now. "You're an-" I slide easily under her clothes, palm cupping perfectly her cunt, it cuts her off. She gasps, eyes growing wide as they stare off at the ceiling, biting on her lip. "I'm what?" "Nothing." She grunts between tight jaws, both mad and horny and that's just too funny. I'm enjoying this immensely, torturing her kindly, while my fingers dip in her soaked heat, with her lips centimetres away so that I can kiss them as much as I want. She responds to all of my kisses. Tense her neck every time I part away for a second to take a look at what I'm doing, at her overall form, her laying in my bed with her twitching legs parting to give me more access. "I'm nothing? That's mean." "Yoongi, not now." I catch the curse she doesn't spit in my face before she gets to swallow it back down. The prospect that things should be cleared out now and that this will happen again, and again, and again until the day she decides she's tired of me drives me wild with excitement. It means I'll get to push her buttons and piss her off enough she'll curse at me the way she rarely ever does Taehyung when he's reaching her very limits of patience. Maybe I'm a bit gross, at least a bit freaky, if the idea of her mad beyond herself, calling me names yet simultaneously letting me play with her body like that turns me on so much. "When if not now, princess?" She pulsates around my fingers at that. It has to be the name. How lovely. How adorable. So adorable I can't help but grin giddily, effectively hiding my face in the crook of her neck so she doesn't catch me when I do. "You're so close already." "Shut up." "All worked up just from having my cock in your mouth." She groans, closes her eyes tight as if she's trying to focus all her attention on my fingers fucking her. "So easy to please, I'm a lucky bastard, am I not?" I keep mumbling next to her ear because I don't care what she pretends, I know she loves hearing me and I can bet with great confidence on what she loves to hear me say. "Having a girlfriend like you-" "Oh my Go- Yoongi-" "Come for your man." So easy to please. I know I'm not reaching the spot she likes best because her fucking pants are in the way. I've learned that the stretching is something she enjoys thoroughly and from how tense and on edge she got herself, my three fingers are doing wonders, dragging the ring along with every thrust. But I'm sure, I know, what's triggering her. She's too much like me. Probably worse than me. So desperate to feel the love, and here she is, coming around my fingers but mainly around my words when I'm just calling her mine. It takes her ages to come back to her senses, to stop desperately drinking my love straight from my mouth, and for her sweet cunt to stop kissing the tip of my fingers and let me slip them out. She's fucked out when she's back. Hair I barely touched all over the fucking place, eyelids heavy, mouth red and swollen, eyebrows low and eyes wet the way they get when the pleasure is so good she becomes a bit too soft and sensible and sometimes a tear or two escape. I get to clean her up a bit, rearranged her clothes and then realise that she's actually spending the night with me so I might as well get her pants off, throw my own pants away and put some shorts on, turn off the lights, and catch her in the most comfortable spooning session I've personally ever had before I feel her alert and with me entirely. "You okay?" She nods her head, blinking a few times more than necessary when she watches me raise my fingers to my mouth and mechanically lick them clean. In a whisper, after too long of laying quietly in the dark -apart from the angry stomping going on in the hallway along with mumbled curses that can only come from Seokjin and that we both decide to ignore- she timidly asks, "So we're dating, Min Yoongi?" "We've always been dating, dumbass." Which is not exactly true, not exactly false. To me, anyway, if she'd ever come to decide that the whole thing was just a fling then, it would have been just that. But I'm pretty sure she's always liked me as much as I have and even if I never expressed it clearly, I don't just fuck around like that. Especially with girls as sweet as her. And I don't really get that words define what we are anyway. Nothing changes now that I've said that. Maybe she's happier with the situation and that's all I want therefore I can give them to her, but honestly, yeah, to me we've always been each other's. "You're an asshole." "I'm your asshole." I don't know if she can hear my grin but the exasperated sigh suggests she does. "That's- gross." She still kisses my cheek and then my chest, huddling to my side, humming to herself when my arms wrapped around her squeeze a little harder. She's warm and soft and all mine, and when the realisation hits, that just a few hours ago she was infinitely far away from me, and now she's here in my arms, in my bed, (kind of) officially just mine to please and enjoy, my heart swells. That's all I've needed.

A/N: Guess what, it’s one of my new year resolutions to STOP taking a break from writing and this blog. *clown*

I hope it wasn’t too bad, too stiff. I meant to give this couple a nice ending because I got attached to them as quite a lot of you have. Hopefully, you’re not disappointed and sorry if it was so angsty but I guess, my heart felt a bit heavy writing it. SOZ

I'm already working on another story I’m really excited about and inspired for. I’ll try to have it release very soon.

If you’ve come this far, THANK YOU immensely. I LOVE you.

I hope all of you and your loved ones are doing fine. My best wishes for this new year. Let’s meet here more often.

#ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts scenario #my writing

224 notes · View notes

singtotheskiies · 3 years

Text

dream come true // five hargreeves x fem!reader (royal au)

masterlist

summary: prince five longs for a taste of the world outside the marble walls of the castle he’s always known—and when he meets you at the annual ball, he discovers that it’s even more beautiful than he could have imagined.

request (by my absolute favorite anon): I was wondering if you'd be up for writing an AU one shot? I can't get the idea of something similar to a Cinderella (or prince/princess royalty AU) out of my mind. At some point Reggie throws a Grand Ball for some reason and thats where Reader and Five meet and fall in love and well idk if there would be conflict regarding Reggie and his approval (not like Five would ask) but happy ending? Whether Reader is a princess or a commoner or something else I'll leave up to you.

words: 2000

warnings: none besides reggie’s shit parenting lolz

a/n: i,,,,,, am BLOWN AWAY by this request it is so cute!!! i feel like i really could have done more with this, but here’s a lil unedited smth for you all to enjoy!!! (i wouldn’t be 100% opposed to writing more for this au at some point either)

✖️✖️✖️

Five rolls his eyes to the back of his head for what seems like the thousandth time today. If he has to listen to Luther and Diego tear into each other for five more minutes, he thinks he’s actually going to go insane.

He can see Allison glare at him from the corner of his vision, and he raises his hand in a choice gesture without bothering to look at her directly. Reginald’s cane comes down hard on the floor, voice slicing through the room and silencing Luther and Diego’s bickering.

“Five, your behavior is absolutely un—“ “Spare me the lecture, father.” Five cracks a humorless smile. “I already know what you’re going to say—the future of the kingdom is in our hands, all of us must be prepared since we never know when our moment will come, and so on and so on. Well, I’m tired of this! So tired. All we ever do is sit here and listen to those two—“ he pins Luther and Diego with an angry stare— “argue on and on while you just sit there all self-righteous and above it all, never having the decency to tell us who’s going to inherit—“ “That is quite enough,” Reginald snaps, voice taut with rage. “Out.” Five’s eyes narrow. “Out!” And so he finds himself outside the throne room for the third time in as many weeks, head lolling back against the cool marble. I’m really not cut out for this, he thinks. If this is all royalty is—just endless arguing and politics day after day—then I don’t want it. The mid-morning sun breaks through the clouds, shining through the huge glass panes that line the hall. Gold trimmings catch the light, and a glimmer hits Five right in the eyes. He stands up with a sigh and makes his way to the window, looking out on the courtyard and the distant hills beyond. He’s spent hours looking outside at those hills, longing to run for them with all his might. Small homes dot the slopes like beads on a necklace, and Five wants to walk among them, feeling the ground against his feet and listening to all the villagers greet each other as they go about their days. He longs to be free of marble walls and false smiles and instead feel the freedom that he imagines comes from interacting with real people. An impossible dream, perhaps—but a lovely one all the same. And when Reginald calls Five back to the throne room for a talking-to, it certainly helps take his mind off things. Maybe someday, he thinks. ✖️✖️✖️ The sun beams down bright and warm, and you’re grateful for the shade of your stall in the market. It’s been a slow day for selling, and you can’t help but wish that the time would go faster so that you can be free to roam about as you wish. As much as you love selling your jewelry, there’s other prospects that spark more excitement in you—namely, the yearly Presentation Ball being held in just two days. A smile spreads across your face at the thought of it. It’s going to be beautiful, you imagine, full of normal people trying to be their best for one night. And, of course, the royals will be there. Now, you’re not one to gush over a family who’s never seen in public, but a tiny part of you has to admit that the allure of the elite is tempting. This is the first year you’ve ever been able to go, and you wonder if the stories you’ve heard of rulers more statue than person are true. You hope to get a glimpse of them—just to see if they are, in fact, human. The pads of your fingers brush over the necklace in your pocket you’re saving for the ball, and a smile stays on your face for the rest of the day. ✖️✖️✖️ “You had better redeem yourself tonight, boy!” Reginald says to Five, all rancid decorum and thinly-veiled contempt. “I think it unreasonable to expect that I will sit still like—like some puppet all night, Father,” Five shoots back. “Not when our people will be there—I fully expect to speak with some of them.” “What have I always told you and your siblings ever since you were young? Commoners—“ “—Are to be avoided at all costs. Yes, I know. And I am telling you that I believe we cannot be true rulers without knowing who we are reigning over,” Five speaks earnestly, face flushed. “You are a disgrace to this family,” Reginald shouts, all traces of civility gone. “Your siblings would never—“ “Well, I am not my siblings! And I am certainly not going to sit there next to them and feign pompousness,” Five spits. “I’ve had enough of doing things your way.” His turns his heel, moving to storm out of the room.

“Where are you going, boy? The opening introduction will start any minute!” Reginald shouts after him.

“Do it without me! I’m going to be where it really matters—with my people.” Five yells over his shoulder.

Defying Father feels better than he ever could have imagined—and so he takes a deep breath and enters the crowd with a growing smile.

✖️✖️✖️

It’s quite possibly the most exciting night of your life, and you’re completely, heartbreakingly late.

You curse under your breath as you run up the castle stairs, dress gathered up in your hands to keep from tripping. Guards stand on either side of the grand, gilded entrance, and you breathe a sigh of relief when you see a small knot of people entering just before you. You reach the doors and hold out your invitation, smiling at the guard as he nods in acceptance. “Enjoy,” he says, and you beam back.

“I will.”

The ballroom is just as stunningly beautiful as you’d imagined. Gold swirls along the white marble walls, accents of royal red adding to the decadence. The huge room is chock-full of people smiling and drinking and making eyes at each other. You breathe deeply in awe, eyes shining as your head moves side to side, hardly knowing where to look next.

After several moments of looking around, your eyes land on the grand throne at the very front of the room, furthest from you. King Reginald is seated in all his harsh glory on it, flanked on either side by two of the princes. They’re dressed in brilliant royal clothes, trying their best to look as commanding as their father. Four other beautiful royals sit next to them, but your eye is drawn most to the empty throne at the end of the row. If you remember correctly, there should be five princes and two princesses—but only four men are sitting with the king. You wonder where the other is—perhaps sick or off on royal business? The kingdom rarely sees the royals outside of the balls, so it’s impossible to tell which prince is missing.

You turn away from the thrones, curiosity overcome by your thirst. Maneuvering your way through the packs of people is a bit tricky, but you manage to reach the refreshments table without any major accidents. A servant pours you a drink, and you thank him with a smile. As you turn to leave, you nearly bump into a boy about your age.

“I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, before continuing on.

“Wait,” his voice comes after you. You stop and turn back around, pleasantly surprised. “I’m sorry too. What’s your name?”

You tell him, and he smiles.

“I’m F—“ he pauses. “Felix. It’s very nice to meet you.” He reaches for your hand and plants a soft kiss on your knuckles with surprising grace. He’s really quite handsome, you think—slender, searing green eyes, well-groomed, thick hair. Most endearing of all is a dimple in his cheek that deepens as he smiles at you.

“Very nice to meet you too, Felix,” you grin, still-tingling hand slowly coming back down to your side.

“That’s a beautiful necklace,” he says with admiration. “Where is it from?”

“I actually made it myself! I sell my own jewelry at the market on weekdays,” you beam. “The wire is made from metal mined right here in the kingdom. It’s purer here than in any surrounding region.”

“That’s amazing,” Felix says with another soft smile. “You must know all sorts of things about jewelry.”

“I guess I’ve learned my fair share,” you laugh quietly. “Jewelry is how I make a living—and it’s one of my passions, so I suppose you’re right.”

“Tell me about how you make pieces,” he asks as the two of you find a relatively quiet place to sit, voice genuine and curious.

And so you do.

✖️✖️✖️

You’re the most beautiful thing Five has ever seen—high praise from a boy who’s lived in splendor all his life. As he watches you talk about your craft, he can’t tear his eyes away from your animated face and hands. How had he lived this long without realizing how beautiful people were? He’d never known something as small as a wisp of hair falling over an eye could make his heart swell nearly to bursting.

“Felix? Felix!” Your voice cuts through his daze, and his eyes snap to yours, embarrassed.

“Sorry, just got, um—distracted.” Was Felix really the best he could come up with?

“Am I boring you?” you ask teasingly, the corners of your mouth tipping up. He looks into your eyes, sparkling with amusement, and finds that nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, he’s so overtaken by his thoughts that he blurts them out loud.

“N-no. No! Absolutely not! I think you’re fascinating—and so beautiful.” He curses his voice for whispering those last words, and averts his eyes in shame.

“You’re too kind,” comes your voice, soft but somehow makes the pounding of his heart even louder. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re quite handsome yourself.”

Years of lessons in diplomacy and etiquette have done absolutely nothing to prepare Five for the feeling that washes over him when you say those last few words. He has absolutely no idea how to respond, and the best his mind can come up with is a “really?”

“Yes,” you giggle, and he’s suddenly aware of just how close you are to him. You smell so nice, and the skin of your wrist is brushing his forearm—and next thing he knows, his fingers are flickering over yours, filling up the spaces in your hand. The look you give him is so beautiful that he wishes he had met you years ago so that it would already be ingrained in his mind.

Your head is nearing his shoulder now, and he’s afraid to breathe in case he ruins your descent. The moment your hair brushes against his neck, he hears his name from behind him. He whirls around to see Klaus with an enormous grin on his face.

“I see you’re enjoying yourself, brother,” he quips. “Unfortunately, dear old father has just about reached his limit with you. If you’re not on your throne in the next few minutes, he’s going to send some guards to find you.”

Five’s eyes are wide as he meets yours. “I’m so sorry. I can explain—“

“No, I apologize, your highness,” you say. “I’ve no doubt broken some sort of royal rule tonight.”

“You were perfect—you are perfect,” he whispers, shaking his head vehemently. “I will find you later tonight—I promise.”

Your smile is more precious than any title he’s been given. “Then I will wait for you—Felix.”

He presses a lingering kiss to your soft hand, unwilling to tear his eyes away from you. And, when he still doesn’t feel satisfied, he moves his lips to the tips of your fingers, your palm, your wrist. He’s only drawn away by the sound of Klaus clearing his throat pointedly.

And for the rest of the night, Klaus’ endless teasing and Reginald’s equally endless scolding are mere echos in his ears—his head is filled with only you.

297 notes · View notes

handsoffmyfriends · 4 years

Text

Breaking Expectations

— when you transfer into the hero course for your second year, you have a lot of expectations regarding your soon-to-be classmates. of all the people to not meet your expectations, bakugou katsuki ranks number one, but you find that you aren’t disappointed in the slightest

PARING: bakugou katsuki x reader WORD COUNT: 1,852 WARNINGS: bakugou swears like the bakuhoe he is

A/N: my first one shot 🥺🥺 i really wanted to write something cute and fluffy and angst free for once, i hope i did okay!! warming myself up for opening up requests !

Part 2

You weren’t sure what you expected when you transferred into the hero course, but somehow befriending the hot-headed Bakugou Katsuki hadn’t even been within the realm of possibilities. You respected his undeniable power, but his personality left much to be desired. You, like the rest of the school outside of the hero course, believed he was nothing more than a feral child with a superiority complex. All you had ever heard about him was how angry he was and how poorly he treated everyone around him. Hell, the guy called his best friend “shitty hair” for crying out loud. It left you feeling not as excited as you should have been when you found out you were transferring into Class 2-A.

Your first interaction with the angry boy left you wondering just how much of the rumours you’d heard had been just that; rumours. You thought for sure he was going to yell at you when you’d been thrown into him during hero training, but he’d simply helped you steady your footing and told you to be more careful. His tone always held a note of anger, you’d found, but the way he helped you and proceeded to back you up during the exercise left you feeling like you’d completely misjudged him.

You couldn’t shake the guilt at how poorly you’d originally viewed him, so you approached him later that day in the dorms. Thankfully, he was by himself, sitting on the sofa scrolling through his social media. You weren’t sure how you’d have spoken to him if other people were around.

Still, you weren’t sure how to start the conversation. He very clearly didn’t want to be disturbed, but he was out in the communal living space, so surely he expected to be disturbed? You stood there like an idiot for several long seconds, agonising over how to begin, but once again, he surprised you.

“Don’t stand there all day,” he growled out, flicking his crimson eyes up at you. “Couches are free real estate. Don’t need my permission to sit your ass down.” He returned his attention back to his phone.

You stiffened slightly at his bluntness. Again, you hadn’t known what to expect, but that certainly wasn’t it. “Ah, that’s not what I came over here for.”

He looked back up at you, this time putting his phone aside and giving you his entire attention. “If it’s about before, don’t worry about it. Everyone does dumb shit during the exercises. Dunce Face does something stupid every fucking time.”

You frowned in confusion before realising he meant Kaminari. You shook your head, finding your voice. “Ah, it’s not quite that either, though I am very sorry about getting in your way. It was a lot more intense than I thought it was going to be.”

Bakugou shrugged with indifference. “You did alright to me. Better than that grape fucker we had last year.”

You dug through your brain to figure out who he could have possibly meant before noticing you were getting distracted. “It’s— I mean... I came over to apologise to you! For misjudging you!” You blurted your thoughts out before they got lost on the way to your mouth. It came out a lot less eloquently than you intended. At his furrowed eyebrows, you tried to save face and explain yourself. “I just... I needed to apologise. You aren’t at all how I thought you would be.”

His expression darkened. “Let me guess, you thought I’d be some kind of villain in the making? Some asshole that would stomp you into the ground without a second thought?”

You didn’t respond, but it was answer enough for him.

He sighed deeply, releasing his frustrations. “Look, that shit was probably true a year ago. I get why you’d think that.” He pulled his phone back out, returning his attention back to it. “People change, believe it or not. But, thanks... for being upfront, I guess.”

You weren’t sure how you felt about the conclusion to the conversation, but it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You didn’t feel right just walking away after that either, so you took a seat on the couch, a comfortable distance away from him, and pulled out your own phone to browse your social media.

You looked back up at him sharply when you noticed the new friend request notification pop up. The Bakugou Katsuki had just sent you a friend request. He seemed entirely unaware of you staring at him in disbelief, despite having just sent you the request. He continued to scroll through his phone, very pointedly not looking up at you.

You decided not to make a big deal out of it, since he wasn’t either.

Bakugou continued to surprise you as the weeks and months went by. Sure, he was as angry as you had been led to believe, but it wasn’t a personal anger that you had assumed. He was just a shouty kind of guy. He called all his friends insulting nicknames, but they were said with a strange kind of fondness, like insults were the only way he could allow himself to show affection. He even had one for you, and if anyone else had called you that, you would have been really offended. Coming from Bakugou, it was strangely nice.

You found yourself hanging out with him more and more. Not through any intentional planning, but the two of you just ended up in the same places at the same times. He was almost always accompanied by Kirishima, who was always overly happy to see you, almost like he was making up for Bakugou’s lack of enthusiasm. You didn’t mind the extra company, though you found you liked your alone time with Bakugou even more.

Sometimes, it was just studying together. Sometimes, you both didn’t say a word, simply enjoying each other’s company. When you did talk, it was comfortable. Bakugou wasn’t a big talker, but you could tell he really trusted you when he did talk to you about more serious topics than the weather. You treasured those moments.

“Hey, Y/N! We’ve been looking for you!” Kirishima called out, pulling you from your book.

“Oh, Kirishima, Bakugou,” you greeted pleasantly, giving up on studying. You probably shouldn’t be studying in the communal area anyway. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Kirishima grinned impossibly wide, showing off his famously sharp teeth. “Bakubro here wanted you to join us for squad movie night.”

Without hesitation, Bakugou threw a punch at Kirishima, right in the face. The red-head had apparently been expecting it, since he’d hardened up instantly and was left entirely unaffected by the slug. “Shut the hell up, shitty hair, you make it sound so fucking creepy!”

You laughed at their bickering, finding it endearing. How you had ever thought Bakugou was an asshole to his friends was beyond you. The words themselves were harsh, but the emotions behind them spelled out an entirely different meaning. He was embarrassed.

You decided it was too good an opportunity to pass up. “Squad movie night, huh? I didn’t know I was part of a squad.”

Kirishima threw an arm around Bakugou. “I’ll add you to the group chat! But, you gotta come for movie night first! It’s like, initiation.”

You giggled. “Alright, alright. I need a break anyway.”

That’s how you found yourself curled up on the couch, pressed up against the arm of the three seater. It seemed squad movie night was an accepted practise in the dorm, since no one other than Bakugou’s friends were present despite being hosted in the communal area.

Mina had picked the movie, which was surprisingly an action packed thriller, not a rom-com that you’d have expected from her. It suited you just fine, since you weren’t exactly in the mood for a rom-com.

You’d sat down first, since you weren’t sure who did what when it came to movie time. Kaminari handed around little bowls full of snacks for everyone, while Sero and Kirishima pulled out a plethora of comforters, blankets and pillows, passing them around to everyone. You suspected they were from everyone’s rooms and you suddenly felt lacking since you hadn’t brought your own. This certainly wasn’t what you’d expected to come along to.

You continued to be surprised when Bakugou took a seat next to you and threw his comforter over you. “Bring your own next time,” he growled at you, adding on your insulting nickname.

You figured Kirishima would sit next to Bakugou, but he just sat down on the other couch with Sero. Mina had created a nest on the floor, pillows and blankets piled into an impossibly comfortable mound of plush. She practically disappeared into it when she laid down in it.

You found it hard to concentrate on the movie with Bakugou so close to you. You were surrounded by his smell, burnt sugar and smoke, a combination that you would have thought to be repulsive. Instead, it wrapped you up and made you feel nice and warm. Although, that probably had to do with the fact that Bakugou was so close to you that you could feel his body heat. The sudden realisation had you barely able to breathe.

Why did you suddenly feel so weird? No one else made you feel like your heart was in your throat, so why did Bakugou?

You think your heart completely stopped when Bakugou very casually threw an arm behind you. Well, behind the couch was more accurate, but it was still behind you and when your heart came back online, it was working double time.

“Fuckin’ relax,” he murmured, eyes never leaving the screen. When you didn’t relax quick enough for his liking, he turned his crimson gaze onto you, those red eyes boring in your own. “I can move if you’re that fuckin’ uncomfortable.” He probably meant to come off blasé, but you could hear the underlying hurt in his voice.

You shook your head very quickly when you realised he wasn’t just being casual about getting comfortable, but making a silent move to get closer to you. You didn’t speak, not trusting yourself to talk. You’d probably say something really stupid and really loudly. Instead, you forced yourself to relax, shifting around a little to get more comfortable. Bakugou hummed in satisfaction.

You weren’t sure when you were snuggled into Bakugou’s side instead of the arm of the couch, and you weren’t sure when he pulled his arm from behind the couch to be wrapped around you, but you found that you were way too comfortable to care.

You felt so warm and safe that you didn’t even notice that you were dozing off until you were being gently woken up. The room was dark, the movie very clearly over, and the rest of the squad were long gone. Bakugou gently jostled you awake, a strangely soft expression adorning his features. You’d never seen it before, but you decided then and there, in your sleepy stupor, that you wanted to see it as much as you could.

#bnha #mha #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki #bakugou #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo

2K notes · View notes

sunflovverharry · 3 years

Text

Friends with Benefits - Chapter 3

a/n: hiii, sorry it’s been a while since I posted chapter 2, but I’m finally back with chapter 3! It’s a bit shorter, but an important one. will hopefully be writing a lot more now that exams are almost over :)) anyways, enjoy this chapter and please feel free to tell me what you think and reblog <3 pairing: police officer!h + Alex word count: 5k warnings: it’s pretty clear from now there will be language, alcohol consumption, smut and trouble with body image in basically every chapter so from now i’ll only write M (mature)

Seemingly, both Harry and I had gotten what we wanted out of each other. Two breathtaking fucks and the intimate moments after where we cuddled and basked in the afterglow of the sex.

It really wasn’t enough for me though. He was like an addiction and I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him. Not that I have a way of contacting him or meeting him except meeting him at the bar again - if we even go at the same time. As he has said; he isn’t one to party a lot nor go clubbing too often. We both spend most of our time at work and it seems like we don’t mind that.

Saying goodbye the Sunday morning two weeks ago I thought it would be the last time we’d meet. Now, standing in the same club as always, staring into Harry’s eyes I couldn’t let the smile grazing my lips go. It was as if all my hopes and dreams were heard when Harry gave back the same smile and made a ‘come here’ motion with his hand up in the air so I could see over the bodies between us. Grabbing my pint of beer, I left the bar and swiftly made my way over to where Harry was sitting. The group I was with had just entered the club and they were still at the bar waiting for their drinks as I didn’t say a word when I walked off.

Harry was seated at the end of a booth close to the corner, his back turned to his mates as I came to stand in between his thighs to be able to hear each other over the loud music blasting over the speakers. I took a drink of the beer before sitting it down next to what I assumed was Harry’s pint.

“Hi, pet. You alright?” Harry placed a soft kiss to my cheek in greeting as he basically screamed into my ear. I leaned away to look at him while giving him a small shake of my head, yeah, I was just fine. He looked smashing in his colourful button-up missing a couple buttons at the top, making me see the top of his butterfly tattoo when I let my eyes gaze down to take him in.

“You celebrating or something?” I took a quick sweep over the rest of the table he was with and there was an expensive bottle of champagne being passed between them. Not the most sanitary or anything, but who was I to judge when I’d definitely done the same when I was drunk. Who exchanged spit and drinks with who, weren’t on the top of our heads when we were drunk and only wanted to get more drunk I guess.

“Nah, the mate who broke it off with his girl some weeks ago dragged us out and he’s making them down everything he buys. I’m driving today though, so only a pint for me. What’re you doing here again?” His hands were dangerously close to the tops of my thighs as they held me close and his thumb pressed patterns in my skin. I was wearing a skirt and a quite revealing top tonight, though not expecting to meet anyone, especially Harry. Maybe in the back of my mind I thought there was a possibility as this is the place we’ve met both times - and now a third.

«Oh, good to see he’s doing alright then. Just here to have a couple pints, didn’t wanna get too drunk or stay out too long tonight. Have quite a lot of paperwork to get through this weekend.» Harry groaned when I mentioned work, not wanting to think about it for tonight I guess. I didn’t really want to think about it either.

«Don’t remind me. I have to go in at six for a couple hours to finish a report, but then I’m off for about a week thank god.» He finished off with a smile thinking about some - I’d say well earned - days off.

«Well then, to celebrate that, how about we go back to yours to have an even better time than we’ll have here?» It was bold of me and I knew it, but that’s how it had been since the first time we met. I took initiative and went in full force and there were absolutely no regrets.

Harry sucked his lips into his mouth as he dwelled over what I’d proposed. There was a slight shimmer to his eyes as he moved his head back to get a good look at me. I didn’t mind his eyes travelling over my body, only enjoying how he didn’t hold back from showing me he liked what he saw. It gave me the last bit of confidence I felt I needed being with a man like Harry.

Not giving a verbal answer, he took one last drink of his pint before getting off the leather seat. His hands turned my body around, settling on my hips as he walked us straight past the bar and made our way outside. The parking lot he’d left his car in was on the other side, quickly jogging over the road when no cars were coming.

It was a lovely night, warm and just humid enough to not break out in a sweat. Perfect start of summer weather. His car was nice and looked expensive at first glance. The inside was clean, no dirty napkins or bottles on the floor. He must take good care of it cause most other lads’ cars I’ve been in haven’t been nearly as clean as Harry’s. I gather that he doesn’t want to talk about it when he doesn’t even look at me to see what kind of reaction I had to it.

«You drove here when you could've walked the fifteen minutes? That’s lazy of you, mr. police officer.» I hadn’t used the nickname last time and I missed it. Harry didn’t exactly seem to mind it either as he took in a harsh breath after hearing it. Even more of a boost for me.

«I thought I would have to drive my mates home as they clearly are getting wasted out of their minds.» Of course he was the sensible one of the group, he’s a fucking police officer. Knowing how he cares for his friends and has his life set makes me feel a bit angry at myself. Why did I have to get an obsession over someone I’d never be enough for? «And to be honest, I’m glad it’ll get us home quicker cause I’m already bulging after you calling me that, pet.» I only giggled and looked out the window, not wanting to be caught staring at him.

The car ride went by in silence after that. The quick five minutes were agonizingly slow and I couldn’t stop thinking about getting to feel Harry again. It made my thighs clamp together to try and get some sort of friction to satisfy me.

Having parked the car, both of us jumped out and almost ran to the door wanting nothing more than to get inside and rip our clothes off. God I can’t wait to feel his achingly perfect cock inside me for a third time. I should probably try to forget about him after this time, knowing we’ll stop seeing each other at the club as often during the summer as I’m planning to be gone for most of it anyways.

«I’ve been dreaming of meeting you again. Honestly can’t get you out of my head, pet.» Harry seemed a little hazy as he quietly let the words tumble out of his pretty pink lips I still haven’t got to taste tonight. Good thing it’s only just passed ten and we have all night to enjoy each others taste.

«Shut up and kiss me already.» He closed the short distance between us as he pulled me to him, front against front. His rough grip on my waist made me grow more want for him. Maybe he finally realized after last time that I wanted it rough though I might come off as someone who wants to take control. I don’t mind but god do I like being thrown around at times and Harry did it really fucking well.

My bottom lip was between his in a second, sucked into his mouth and left his lips with a pop. I couldn’t help but already pant at the anticipation and need for him. My lips were slightly open, ready for Harry to slam his lips back on mine and tongue taste the inside of my mouth, licking into it. He didn’t waste a single moment on teasing me or waiting till I couldn’t anymore - dominating the kiss before we even touched lips nevermind tongues.

It made my stomach turn in excitement for the night and lust for the man in front of me. There weren’t any sparks, most likely because we didn't even know each other besides the basics. Well, not even the basics - not even knowing his age. Names and workplace are the only two things we’ve told the other. It felt fucking good having this platonic stranger with benefits. I guess that’s what I would put us as? There were no feelings ruining things or other people's opinions as we were still strangers.

«I want you to cum in my mouth this time.» I barely managed to get the words out of my mouth as Harry was too eager to get his mouth on mine. When he heard what I said though, it was like his eyes got darker and his grip tightened around me showing how much he also wanted that without saying it.

Feeling his tongue get familiar with my mouth again was intoxicating, making me want to make out with him for hours on end. I wouldn’t mind if we dropped sleeping and just moved our lips together until the sun rises.

«You wanna.. upstairs?» Harry was already breathless, either because he knows what he’s getting or because of the kiss. I hummed in response, guiding us to the stairs leading up to his room. If this is going to go how I want it to, I’ll want to be comfortable and though the couch was good, his bed is the best option.

I trusted Harry to be careful and considerate but also push limits which was exactly what was needed tonight. No ‘are you sure’ or ‘i don’t want to hurt you’ talk, just straight to it. No, I wouldn’t get to feel his length inside me - unless he thickens up again right after which I doubt - but maybe before he has to head out. Maybe his fingers will suffice for tonight.

«You’re going to fuck my mouth, officer, and I’m gonna take it like the good girl I am.» There was no point in not being direct from the start, teasing unnecessary and unwanted from both sides. He looked like I told his biggest dream was coming true as he bit his lip and rolled his eyes back as he tried to collect himself for a moment. My fingers danced over his neck and shoulders before tugging his shirt over his head.

«Lay down. Head this way, pet.» The pet name he had called me since we first met had grown increasingly on me and I couldn’t imagine being called anything else. Following his orders I got on the bed, facing him, head almost dangling off the bed. It was risky to let him take control over my airways, but it was a risk I was willing to take.

There was no doubt he was hard and ready to burst if he just got a little lick to his slit, but there is also no doubt he’ll hold out for as long as he can. Leaning down, he slotted our lips together in a more than messy kiss that was hard to navigate as we were upside down. His hands caressed my cheeks before moving to pull my top down, letting my tits spill out on top. I knew he liked them and since depriving himself for longer than needed last time, he was making up for it this time. Pinching my nipples he got a moan out of me telling him to keep going. I loved when my tits were played with, the sensitivity a great feature.

My fingers trailed down his sides languidly, feeling his abs flex at the sensation. Gripping the front of the trousers he was clad in, I somehow managed to open it up before pulling it down along with his briefs as far as I could. Harry moaned into my mouth as his cock freed from restraint and I got my hands on it only tugging lightly.

Biting my bottom lip he pulled away to make sure I was comfortable where I laid before shuffling the few centimeters closer so his tip rested on my lips. I was excited to taste him again and to feel his impressive length down my throat. It being something I don’t usually do unless I trust the person or really want to.

He left it to me to take him in and start licking and sucking him deeper into my mouth which I gladly did. Starting with a kitten lick to his slit he groaned and twisted my nipple between his fingers at the feeling of finally being touched where he needed it. I closed my lips around his tip focusing on sucking it and licking around it, but knowing he’s sensitive already I put my hands on his hips trying to get him to move closer. Feeling the welcome weight on my tongue as his cock drove deeper into my mouth, stopping at the start of my throat, I sucked and bobbed my head only slightly as it was hard to move in my position. Not yet knowing exactly what he likes in terms of blowjobs, I listened for sounds he’d let out or if he rutted his hips more at something I did.

«Fuck that’s it.» He murmured before letting out the loudest moan I’ve heard as I helped him go deeper, reaching down my throat. I liked the sensation, knowing I - or Harry - could control something so dangerous as my breathing.

Harry began thrusting his hips more, guiding his cock himself down my throat, keeping still for a second before letting me breath and doing it again. I removed my hands from his hips, wanting him to take full control and let them lay flat on the bed. It was intoxication listening to him pleasure himself with my mouth, only making me wetter by each groan.

«Shit- oh god!» It was as if he was losing his sense to keep himself at bay, the feeling of being down my throat too good. I didn’t mind, loving the fact that he felt comfortable enough to completely be himself for me.

Harry fucking my mouth was intense, the feeling of him pushing his cock as far down my throat as possible, cutting my airways for seconds at a time made me dizzy and want to succumb to every need of his right this moment. I loved laying there, taking everything he gave me without the ability to stop him except if I really needed to of course.

There was no need to stop though. He knew exactly when it was enough and pulled out and when I could take more.

«Agh.. Your mouth feels so fucking good Alex-» It was like he didn’t quite know how to express himself, too far gone in his own head. «I’m gonna cum.. Mmh, you want it down your throat, pet?» Even when he was gone he still called me pet and I reveled in it. It made me smile around him, but quickly going back to shutting my lips around him as he was back to only putting the tip in. I sucked and licked at his slit wanting him to get his release. It didn’t take much before he was shooting ropes after ropes down my throat, moaning as he filled up my mouth with his cum.

I’m sure I had tear streaks down from my eyes to my temples, but to be honest I hadn’t paid attention to anything except Harry’s cock in my mouth for the entire time. I enjoyed it just as much as he did.

«Fucking hell, pet.» Harry’s slowly softening length slipped out between my lips and I opened my mouth to show him his work before swallowing all of it. He groaned at the sight and bent over to catch my lips for a sweet kiss mustering up the little energy he had left before falling on the bed right beside me.

Laying next to each other trying to catch our breaths, Harry’s fingers delicately trailed up and down my thigh laying next to his torso. It felt nice to have the cuddly, cute aftercare I so badly craved for with every other lad who only wanted me gone after emptying inside me. Which is mostly the reason I began only letting them cum on my tits or arse. It was a fair deal I thought, seeing as a lot of them didn’t even get me off.

His chest was still somewhat heaving, begging for more air when I sat up dizzy from the blood coming to my head and not regaining my breath completely either. His eyes opened to see if I was going anywhere. I was still fully clothed, only my tits hanging out next to a naked Harry who seemed to have kicked his pants off all the way. His cock laid slack against his thigh, tired from the intense orgasm.

«Did you enjoy that?» I don’t know why I felt like asking this time. My confidence was always up when I was with him and it sounded and felt like he really liked what I was doing. My tits were red with his marks and I hadn’t felt a thing being too busy reveling in Harry. He could get it with me anytime he liked and I would comply and do exactly what he wanted.

«Did I enjoy that?» He chuckled and moved to hold his weight up on his elbows. «That was unreal. I was so fucking gone in my own head I didn’t even think about you. Are you okay, Alex?» Course he cared for how I was feeling, it was like second nature for Harry to care about the people around him. Probably the reason why he became an officer.

«Yeah, I really liked that.» I hadn’t even been close to reaching an orgasm from that alone, but damn it if I hadn’t enjoyed myself more than with any other lad - who I’ve never even let fuck my face like that.

«Do you wanna sit on my face? Honestly don’t know if I can move right now.» He was good to look at so I let my eyes wander, his tattoos shining along with the rest of his skin with a light layer of sweat. I shook my head no, telling him I was good for now.

«I might wake you up tonight if I can’t sleep though.» Winking at him as I got out of bed fixing my tits before going downstairs to get a bottle of water. My throat was rough and the aftertaste of his cum wasn’t that nice any longer.

Bringing a bottle of water up for Harry to drink, I jogged up the stairs only wanting to fall asleep as soon as possible. Not getting much sleep during the last month has gotten to me and the one weekend I have off I want to make up for some of it.

«Is it alright if I sleep here?» Again, don’t know why I felt the need to ask Harry if I could stay the night when I’d done it the last two times.

«I was kinda hoping you’d stay and I could return the favor when I get back from work in the morning? I’ll be done by nine at the latest.» Harry didn’t look like he was scared of getting rejected, almost talking as if it was the most normal question. Maybe he recognized there was something up with me and was trying to act as normal as possible for me to relax again.

«Mm, I think I can do that.» Harry smiled from where he was still laying, telling me to ‘come here’. I didn’t object and fell straight into his arms with a quiet sigh. His hands grasped my body tightly to his, fingers going up and down my spine. «Think I’m gonna fall asleep in a few seconds if you continue doing that.» It felt incredible having someone dote on you without any pressure or hidden feelings behind it.

«Let’s get up and get ready for bed then, yeah?» I nodded and reluctantly removed myself from his arms pulling him up with me.

Standing in the bathroom brushing our teeth together felt oddly relaxing. A thing normally viewed as intimate between a man and woman when they’re sleeping together at least. There had been intimacy between us since our first night together I feel, so we might’ve gotten used to it - not thinking about how this isn’t normal for people who only have sex.

Deciding to push the thought to the back of my mind, I got undressed to my underwear before jumping under the covers waiting for Harry to get in behind me and pull me close.

— Morning after

I wasn’t aware of my surroundings as I was still asleep and only barely waking up when I felt the unforgettable feeling of someone going down on me. Slowly opening my eyes as I let go of the moan I couldn’t even try to hold back, I saw the duvet was still covering my body, one leg sticking out while my right knee was sticking up under the duvet.

It was undeniably the best wake up call I’d had in years. Maybe even since the morning of my fifth birthday which was twenty years ago. Lifting my arms to lay above my head, my hips started moving along Harry’s tongue wanting to get as much pleasure as I could out of it. Since when were men this good at eating a woman out?

He smiled against my clit as I continued to sound my pleasure and circle my hips against his mouth, obviously liking how much I enjoy what he was doing. And I sure did enjoy it, a smile finding its way on my face as well before more sounds took over and I couldn’t find the energy to moan through a smile.

His tongue flicked my clit once, twice before sucking it between his lips, tongue still flicking. It was warm and wet when he released it going down my slit, pushing his tongue in me. I don’t understand where Harry learned how to eat someone out when literally no other man even knew where my clit was. His arm hooked around my thigh moved down so his thumb could circle my clit, pressing into it at times to get more heavy breaths from me.

I didn’t last long, Harry going at it like he was starving, reaching my first high this morning from oral with a soundless moan. My hips didn’t stop grinding into his lips and he didn’t let up until I moved my hand to push him away. I was sensitive and not quite awake yet as I came down from an orgasm I couldn’t compare to anything else.

Harry came up from under the blankets, fitting himself between my still open legs. Seeing the smile on his face, chin and lips glistening with my release on them, made me pucker my lips together wanting to taste myself on him.

«Mm..» Harry moaned into the kiss, his body fully leaning down on mine, barely holding his weight up as I took most of it. It felt nice - his warm body encompassing mine fully.

Keeping him close we spent the morning in bed, kissing and ultimately slipping him in when he spooned me. The position being intimate and sensual, but the morning stillness and tired bodies made it the best way to get off in this moment.

After rolling around in bed for an hour, enjoying another orgasm or two, our hungry stomachs made us get out and make our way to his kitchen. The sun was shining through the windows making the room light and the slightly warmer wind blowing through the open french door made it so the shirt I had put on was just enough to not get cold.

Sitting down on one of the dining chairs I watched him move around in his kitchen making us french toast for breakfast. The clock had just passed ten and I was planning on going straight back to bed when I got home then hopefully finishing up my paperwork. I needed the sleep or I don’t think I’ll function the week coming up.

«I wanted to talk to you about something.» We had been sitting in silence as we ate the toast until Harry’s words broke the comfortable silence. I nodded and moved my eyes to connect with his showing him I’m all ears.

«We’ve had sex a few times now and first of all I want to make sure we’re not giving each other anything. I know I’m not sleeping with anyone else.» I understood where he came from. We don’t know what the other does when we’re not together and because we’re not using a condom we could easily bring an STD into the picture.

«I told you I haven’t been with anyone but you the last year, so I’m clean. Even went to the clinic last week.» It was a necessary conversation, but telling him I’d been checked after we’d slept together was a little awkward.

«Good. I’m clean too, checked on tuesday.» Harry nodded, but didn’t seem done with the conversation. To prepare himself for the second part of the conversation, he took a bite of his toast before swallowing it down with some water.

«I wanted to ask you one more thing. It’s absolutely fine if you say no, but know I’m one hundred percent up for it.» He looked me in the eyes as I waited for him to ask what I had a feeling he would.

«Would you wanna make this a regular thing? Exchanging phone numbers and meeting up whenever we want a release instead of not knowing if we’ll ever see each other again? I think we’re pretty compatible in bed and I’ve had a better time with you than any old fling I’ve ever had.» He was laying our options on the table, suggesting we become friends with benefits. It had crossed my mind, knowing I wouldn’t object to having a benefit relationship with him. Honestly think it’ll be more beneficial for me and I never thought he’d bring it up.

«I’d be up for that, yeah. Not to make things awkward but you’re a pretty decent lad with a more than satisfying member to be fair. Would be stupid to turn you down - anyone would.» My cheek grew hotter as I spoke, a tint of red covering them I’m sure as I’m clearly not as bold and confident when we’re not in bed or drunk.

Harry only smiled at me as I basically confirmed our new relationship - friends with benefits. It’s been five weeks and too many wet dreams since I met him and knowing I can have him almost whenever I want - and when he wants - is just perfect. If I can give him half as much pleasure as he gives me I’ll be a happy lady, but I will aim to give him mind blowing orgasms every time.

«Didn’t think you’d be up for this sort of deal with the whole police thing.» Looking up from my plate as I ate the last bite of my delicious toast, Harry squinted his eyes at me.

«And why’d you think that?» He didn’t sound irritated or confused but intrigued to know what was going on in my head. Putting my trust in him and being honest is a huge part of us - I think at least - so I washed away all anxiety and worry. Not that he made me have a reason to be anxious around him.

«Just thought you’d be a bit proper and all. Guess that went out the window - along with my knickers - the first time we met, huh?» Snickering at the memory of him throwing my knickers out his window, Harry joined in also thinking back to five weeks ago. Being able to have banter with him is good, makes things less serious as it should be between friends with benefits - I think at least.

“What are you saying then? Wanna give me your number, pet?” Harry looked at me with the happiest smile on his face; there is no way I’m letting neither of us down by denying us having regular hookups. I’d be causing myself pain to not let him fuck me as much as he wants.

“Happily. One tiny condition though, we always meet here cause I have a roommate and I want to keep this between us. Not because I’m ashamed, but because she likes to meddle in my business and it’ll be easier if she doesn’t have proof of anything.” Harry agrees, not wanting anyone else talking about our - not quite so normal - relationship.

It was easy being myself with Harry, he made me feel safe and relaxed. There was no need to keep my guards up around him though we’ve not known each other for long. Not that it mattered much, there were people who got married after only a couple months of knowing each other - which we most definitely will not do.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles ff #writing #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles x y/n #fwb!h #fwb!harry

61 notes · View notes

enigma-im · 3 years

Text

Fifth Day of Christmas...

Trope: Snowed in (NSFW) Relationship: Goliath x Human Word Count: 7,808

Swords clash in a symphony within the Mid-lands woods. The Goliaths have come from the mountains to ambush our camp. We never assumed we wouldn't be safe, especially with winter coming. Who would have guessed the Goliaths would be so bold as to challenge an incoming blizzard just to slaughter a few of us. It's truly too bold, too stupid.

I look out at the cluster of people, the Goliaths standing high. It's clear we have the number advantage, but they have strength. Men and women surround a single giant just to be beaten away with a single blow. It's ridiculous. The cold bites at my lungs as I charge into battle, joining two others attempting to befall the seven-foot man.

Together we swipe and swing at the revolting beast, aiming low in hopes of knocking him down. One soldier gets a jab in as the goliath blocks a blow from another. We both take the chance to cut at the knees. The goliath falls to a kneel, growling in frustration before swinging wide and knocking the other two away. I manage to stumble back into the cold dirt. Attempting to get back to my feet I see the goliath has beaten me to it, standing above the two fallen soldiers with a triumphed sneer. He reels back, aiming for the closest one. With a fatal swoop, he befalls the first one, spilling their blood to the dirt below.

I can't be shocked anymore, the sight an unforgettable one. It's almost numbing now. I quickly stand, gripping my sword in a harsh grip. The goliath reels his arm back for another blow to the woman at his feet. Working on pure adrenaline I launch at him, digging my shoulder into the wound on his side. The goliath cries out, pushing me aside as he cradles the bleeding wound. I don't let him get an edge, doing what I can to get him away from the injured soldier still laying at his feet. Stomping towards him I kick my leg high, digging my booted heel into the cut on the back of his knee. He falls to a kneel once more.

"You petulant worm," he snarls, reaching out for me. I try to step back, failing as he grabs my heel. He drags me towards him, standing to dangle me headfirst above the ground. My sword falls from my grip, hitting the dirt with a soft thud. I can't pay it any mind as this behemoth pulls me higher in the air. Not bothering to think I do the first thing I can. The wound on his side catches my attention. I drag my fist bag, launching it towards his side for a quick jab.

He wails again, dropping me harshly to the floor. My shoulder pops as the dirt gives no resistance. I watch the man stumble, breathing heavily as he clenches his side. Our eyes meet for just a moment, a few flurries dancing between us. I don't take the time to listen to whatever hateful words he wishes to spit my way. I can see the bloodlust and fury in his eyes, I am his sole target now and nothing is going to stop him.

I shuffle off the floor quickly, trying to look for my sword before the man can react. He swings for me, growling like a beast as he does. I stumble back, still having no sight of my sword. At his next attempt at my life, I give up the search. Knowing the losing battle before me I do what a soldier should never do. I run.

Twisting away I book it away from the fight, running through the tree with the cold air stabbing at my lungs. A voice screams 'coward' in my head but my will to live is stronger. I hear mighty footsteps follow me, calling out with grotesque promises. I don't make it far till I'm knocked on my stomach, my shoulder throbbing with the impact and weight. I'm twisted to my back, the man hovering above with a sadistic grin and sneer of pain. I can feel his blood dripping onto my clothes, the only warmth to be found in these woods.

"I have you now," he grabs at my throat," such a poltroon to run from battle." his fingers dig into my neck, choking me easily. I scratch at his arm, pry at his finger, reach for his face. Nothing works, the corners of my eyes darkening. With a last-ditch effort, I writhe and kick, aiming for anything to get some leverage. I don't want to die, please don't let me die here alone.

I kick at his hip, him wincing a bit. With that last bit of focus, I jab the toe of my boot into his side, blessing the fallen soldier for the well-aimed wound. He barks out a cry of pain, his fingers loosening enough for me to take a greedy gulp of biting air. I kick again, screaming a war cry as I push him off. It's a feat in its self to get him off.

I roll onto all fours, breathing hard to get the black dots out of my vision. Coughing while he wheezes, it's the only moment we have. Getting to my feet first I look over to him, he's kneeling by a decline. I take a few wobbly steps towards him, exhausted at this point. He looks up to me, trying to get to his feet with an angry growl. I'm surprised he makes it, walking on equally uneasy legs.

"I'm going to enjoy spilling your blood, little human," he seethes," it has become my right."

"Shut up," I pant.

With the last bit of energy, I have I run to him. I thud against his stomach, grab at his knees, and dig my nails into his still bleeding wound. He falls back, taking me with him. His back takes the brunt of our weight, me being launched off as he tumbles backward. We roll and skip down the steep incline of the hill, hitting every rock, root, and tree to be found. My shoulder aches as do other parts of my body. As my head meets a rather pointed rock do I wish for death.

A groan breaks through my haze. I open my eyes, looking up to trees and fat snowdrops. A few land on my lashes, my eyes flickering shut. I feel like shit. My body is throbbing, my view rather fuzzy, and my fingers numb. Another groan catches my attention, coming from above me. I tilt my head back, looking at the man trying to sit up. I startle at the blue marking curling down his bald head. My stomach lurches as I launch upwards, barely getting to my feet with the small amount of energy I have left. I know once I'm somewhere safe I'll be down for the count.

"Worms, all of you," the man whimpers," bested by a worm, me?" I watch him pathetically try to move. He looks worse than I feel, his side leaking life into the frosty debris below. The wound has grown since I last remember, stretching over his stomach. He tries to sit up, clenching his hands in the dirt, and seething every attempt.

He finally just lays there, looking at me with such disgust. I nearly feel nothing at the sight, just numb to this whole experience. He will die soon, bleeding out or freezing from the elements. I may do just the same, looking to the unclimbable incline and empty woods. Perhaps I could be so lucky to find shelter somewhere, a journey that may cost me much. I sigh.

"retched, the lot of you," he spits," may the gods damn you to the foulest parts of hell. To have your inners stood across miles. Be cursed for what you have done to me today!" it's almost sad to watch him like this. The final words of a dying man.

"Shut up," I look around some more. My best bet is to just start walking, look for some shelter. If the gods could bless me today. I start walking. The man curses and snarls at me, shouting his last bit of distraught like a pathetic animal. I walk on.

It isn't long until I come across a cabin, boarded up for the winter. It's promising. I walk up to the nailed in planks, reaching out to attempt to pry them. My shoulder screams in protest, as I do I. cradling my arm I look to the door. I can't get in. I look to the windows, they too are boarded. This close to shelter and I'm left to perish.

In the distance, I can still hear the shouts of the stubborn man. Surely he was to die by now. I shake my head, admiring his strength even in death. Thinking of a plan I circling the building, finding nothing but stacks of firewood resting against the side.

"Bollocks," I grumble. I'm not strong enough to get in…but someone else might.

I snap my head in the direction of the insolent man. Could he help me get in? no, he is too wounded. But if I treat said wounds, maybe he could be of some use? Would he be strong enough though? I cry out in frustration. It seems it's the only chance I have. Why not spend my last few hours with an enemy?

I hobble back towards the hill, hearing the man before spotting him. He is left exactly where he started. It seems he hasn't tried to make any progress. His head snaps to me, baring his teeth as I near.

"Come to finish me off, human," he barks.

"If I help you, do you think you can pry out some nailed boards before we freeze to death," I ask, not bothering to waste any time. He scoffs, turning away.

"Why should I accept help from you? Do I offer my assistance just for you to stab me in the back the first chance you get," he asks, sounding awfully stupid. I'll let myself think it’s the lack of blood causing his idiotic suggestion.

"Wouldn't you rather take that than dying in the dirt like a forgotten man," I ask, shivering as a breeze flows by.

"I rather die with my honor than betray my kind to help you," he barks a laugh," I'm faithful to my people unlike you, you poltroon scum-."

"Shut up," I interrupt," pride on the shelf, help or don’t?"

He glares at me, fingers clenching and unclenching at his side. The offering was rather nice in my opinion, even if the lack of trust is there. For now, I need him and he needs me, let's not make it more complicated than that.

"Fine," he grunts," if you can help then so will I."

I don't bother with words, collapsing to my knee with a wince beside him. The minimal supplies I have attached to my person is unceremoniously dropped to the ground. I don't bother cleaning his wound, taking a small amount of time to wrap it instead. He groans and whimpers like a child, nearly reaching for me to stop. I ignore him, stuffing wrapped bandages against his side before covering it all with wrapping. I hope the pressure is enough to forgo any more blood loss on the way to the cabin. I just need him strong enough to pull some wood, nothing more.

I'm little to no help getting him off the ground. I try to tug him up with my good arm but the jostling runs to the other anyway. He manages mostly on his own to get up, standing on his own two feet. His hand covers his side and he stumbles onward.

We walk like a bunch of drunks towards the cabin, nearly collapsing as we stop at the door. I watch as he easily pries the boards off the door, ripping them off as easily as ripping paper. With the wood cast aside, he opens the door and walks in. I follow after, annoyed at the equally cold interior.

"I'm going to get a fire started, you can rest for a bit. You have done enough," I say as I rub at my arms. I look around the room, spotting the heath with stacks of wood on the side. Before I can even take a step there I heard a loud thud. I jump, looking towards the goliath in fear. To my surprise he isn't standing, having collapsed on the ground.

I sigh," I thank you for your help but if you die in the middle of the room I'm going to be pissed."

That night was the longest in my life. Nearly getting killed in battle, then nearly dying from exposure, and now trying to start a fire with a broken shoulder. Hauling the wood was a challenge in itself, now trying to spark the flint. I would give anything to be able to roll over and rest but there is still much to be done.

I start a fire, warming myself for a bit before searching around the cabin. Finding a bedroom with blankets and a kitchen with jarred food. I send praise to the gods above. I drag all the linen to the main room, making two cots for the goliath and myself. I don't bother trying to drag him closer to the fire, exhausting all my courtesy towards him. Wrapping him in a blanket after checking his wounds is all I can bother within one night.

With my vision tunneling, I lay down in my cot and take a well-earned rest.

I startle awake the next morning when I catch the Goliath watching me sleep. His gaze is contemplative, to my surprise, but still rather brutish. I stare at him as he stares at me, not sure what his mood is this morning.

"you didn't kill me," he starts bluntly.

"That I did not," I answer.

"Why," he demands.

"it would not have benefitted me," I snuggle further into the warmth of the blanket.

He huffs," didn't think killing your enemy before they get the chance to kill isn't beneficial?"

"depends," I shrug," are you planning on killing me?"

He regards me for a few moments, his jaw ticking," No."

The goliath begins to stand, looking steadier than last night. His blood-soaked shirt is stiff and ripped. He takes a large step towards me, I flinch. Though I reluctantly trust his words, the years of fighting have left much ingrained. The recoil jostles my shoulder, making me bite back a whimper.

"Hurt," he asks, walking around me towards the fire. I can't pay him any mind as I breathe through the pain that has worsened from last night. Rolling onto my back I try all I can to remain still, the throbbing starting anew.

"I asked you a question," the goliath growls.

"Yes," I bark.

He chuckles," good. I'd hate to be the only one." I glare at his back. Slurs begin to roll towards my lips but I hold them back. Though he was near death before, I am in more pain now.

I hear the goliath poking at the fire, throwing another log in before stomping towards me. On reflex, I flinch, wincing again. He crouches down beside me, grabbing at my arm and jerking me upright. I spit out a curse, whimpering like a child. His meaty fingers poke and prod till I'm near tears.

"Stop," I shout. He glares, taking his hands off me.

"it's dislocated," he sneers," it has to be popped back into place." he reaches for me again, I twist away.

"Don't you fucking touch me," I snarl, shuffling farther and farther away from him. He remains kneeling by the cot, scoffing at my departure.

"Fine," he slaps his hands to his thighs," deal with it yourself."

I watch him trot off somewhere out of sight, stomping all the while. His heavy steps echo around the cabin, shaking the walls a bit. I'm impressed he hasn't knocked some of the decorations off the walls. Hell, I'm impressed he can stand up straight without hitting his head. I hear some clanking of glass, telling me of his location. With him out of the room, I breathe easy.

My arm makes me feel useless and I try to keep busy. Sorting out supplies and checking the fire becomes tedious with one arm. I take to looking at the piling snow outside, it already reaching around a foot high. Even without the blizzard out there, I had no intentions of leaving, it seems neither did the goliath as he licks his wounds in the main bedroom. We keep to ourselves most of the day, him coming back as the day grows to night. Even then he remains in the farthest corner from me. Not that I mind, keep the brute away less we break this unsteady truce.

I try to head to the cot, struggling to lay down with every angle hurting my shoulder. I try to bite back whimpers, not letting him get the satisfaction of hearing them. The hardwood is uncomfortable, so much so that I consider going to the bedroom to sleep on the mattress. The threat of freezing keeps me where I am.

I wiggle around enough that the goliath lets out an annoyed sigh," if you would let me pop it into place then you would have a better time getting comfortable."

"Piss off," I grumble.

He huffs again," you humans are too damn stubborn for your own good. I'm sure this war would have been dealt with years ago if your people would stop acting like children."

I scoff under my breath, not falling for the bait. He continues anyway.

"I'm tempted to see how long you'll keep use of your arm. With us snowed in I'm sure you won't last till the sun melts it all. As weak as you all are I'm nearly impressed with your resilience to help. At this point I believe killing you would be a mercy as amputation would get you dropped from service," he rambles on. I never knew goliaths could be so mouthy, saying nothing of importance in a conversation. He grates on my nerves till the pain of hearing him is worse than the pain in my shoulder. His constant insults nearly make me consider taking my chances outside.

As he goes on his next spiel I sit up, glaring at him as I stand. With a stubborn amount of determination, I charge at the nearest wall, slamming my shoulder against it. A loud pop echoes around the room, silencing the annoying goliath. I wheeze against the wall, panting hard as I slide down to the floor. Tears roll down my cheeks as a sob wracks over my body. My whole arm throbs, telling me of my success and idiocrasy.

I look to the goliath, blowing a loose strand of hair out of my face. He looks surprised, then impressed. It's short-lived though as he looks down at the sword he is fiddling with, having found it on the wall.

"It seems humans are stupid above all else," he mumbles. I huff, thunking my head against the wall.

The silence begins to bug me as the days go on. After his baiting, he hasn't said much else. During the day he sticks to the bedroom, coming back to the main room at night. I try to keep busy, running out of things to do besides count rations and look out at the white landscape. The fire has been kept lit all day, our woodpile beginning to run low. I know there is a large stack outside but the idea of going out there chills me to the bone. At some point I'm going to have to, that thought keeps me busy.

We sit in our cots one night, staring off into space.

"Our fire is going to die before the snow melts," he says casually. I lazily look at him, watching him look to the heath. The glow of the fire gives him a beautiful glow, lighting his markings like a painting.

"there's some chopped wood outside," I answer. He nods.

"I'll retrieve some tomorrow morning, give it enough time to dry out," he states.

"no," I glare at him," I'll grab it, you can't be trying to get your giant self through that snow. Besides, you can reopen your cut lifting those logs."

He glares back," like you can do any better with your arm?"

I sit up," I can do better than you getting through the snow. So what I lack in strength I make up in time."

"by the gods woman," he shouts," can you cease your insolence for one day? Your fire is admirable but it will get you killed. You will rest, do I make myself clear?"

His scolding demand boils my blood. Who does he think he is making such commands? I'm not his to push around or control.

"No, you don't. I will go out there with or without your permission because you aren't my father or commander," I shout. I nearly get up to grab the wood that second, my ire demanding action.

"This is the thing with you humans, we try to do something kind and you basically spit in our faces," he slaps his hands on his thigh," there is no more discussion, I will get the wood in the morning."

"No, you-," he interrupts me.

"End of discussion, now go to bed," he scolds. Before I can say anything more, he rolls over in his cot. I want to scream in frustration, feeling like a child at this moment. Reluctantly I roll over and go to bed as well, fuming as I do.

I aim to wake up early, sneaking out before he can wake up. He still rests in his cot as I roll out of mine. I smile in victory as I make my way to the door. Wrapping my blanket around myself I head out to start the mission of carving a path through the snow. As I reach for the handle the door swings open, forcing me back a step.

"Morning," the goliath greets me, holding an armful of wet wood. I scowl up at him, blowing a stray hair out of my face. He snickers, walking past and setting the wood down by the hearth.

"How'd you wake up before me," I throw the blanket down in my cot. He organizes the already large stack of wood, spacing them out to dry faster.

"Your snoring kept me up, I was already awake," he shrugs.

I sulk, dropping back in my bedding with arms crossed. He looks over his shoulder, laughing as he catches sight of my scowl.

Today he actually spends time in the main room, warming up by the fire and checking on the wood. Minimal words are exchanged but still better than before. The reluctant truce feels less reluctant now.

Night falls and the logs still aren't dry. The small amount we have left can barely keep the fire blazing through the night. We both stare at the hearth.

"We can bundle up more," I offer.

"There aren't any more blankets," he says.

"We can lay closer to the fire, that might help," I try. The idea of freezing during the night isn't an ideal one. The small fire could keep us warm, but just barely. We can try to use the wet wood but it risks snuffing out the flame we already have. I can't think of much else to do.

"we're going to have to huddle for warmth," he sighs. I snap my head towards him, confused by the suggestion.

"Huddle for warmth? Like, share a cot," I ask. He nods. "Well, that's definitely out of the question," I shut him down.

"excuse me," he barks," why is that?"

"I'm not going to share a cot with you. Not even a few days ago you tried killing me, cursing my name to the gods in hopes that they will gut me and spread my entrails for miles," I shake my head," so no, I don't trust you."

"so, you trust that I won't kill you in your sleep but sharing a cot is where you draw the line," he asks, a smile curling his lips. I glare up at him, not appreciating his tone.

"It wasn't like I had a choice," I snide back.

He grins," it's not like you have much of a choice now, too."

I squint at him," you're enjoying this aren't you?"

"not at all," he fights back his smile," having to cuddle up next to my enemy isn't the highlight of my week."

"then it's settled," I clap my hands," we don't share a bed and we just risk the chance of freezing. I love it, glad we're on the same page." I stand up to walk away. He snatches my hand, tugging me back to the floor.

"No, not agreed. I can swallow my pride enough to do this and so can you. I'm not so stubborn to put my wants over my needs," he bites back. I glare daggers at him, he gives it right back. The battle of will begin, me debating on the weight of his words. I'd rather share the damn cot and keep warm but the problem is doing it with him. This truce is only here long enough for us to survive then get back to the war. I won't let myself sit here and pretend that we could be friends. No, that's out of the question. Still, we don't have to be friends to survive. I just have to bite my tongue and get on with it.

"fine," I shout," grab your bedding, it's larger than mine."

He jumps up, piling his sheets in his arms before dropping them in front of the fireplace. We sort it all out, layering some on the floor to keep the chill out. I snuggle under the blanket, looking up at him as he removes his shirt.

'Whoa, whoa," I yell," don't do that." he throws the dirty rag away and crawls into bed. His body gives my heart pause. The wound on his side has healed very nicely, looking more healed than I would have figured for only a few days. His stomach is toned, along with his chest. The fire allows shadows to dance over his torso, adding another level of appeal to his massive frame.

"skin to skin is better to keep warm. Don't have to waste time warming up the clothes," he explains, reaching out and tugging at my shirt. I slap him away, feeling more girlish at this moment than at any point in my life.

"No, no, I'll be keeping mine on," I curl my arms against my chest. He snorts, letting me be as he drops beside me. I watch him, still conflicted on letting this go on. Everything is so confusing. The goliath looks… well, attractive, lounging against the bed. His angry features look softer at the moment, almost relaxed. I don't like seeing him this way.

I lay upon the blankets, turning towards the fire. I jump when his hand curls over my stomach and tugs me against his body. He is so warm. It takes a considerable amount of effort to relax, trying my damndest to fall asleep. I close my eyes and try to pretend the warmth coming from my back isn't his.

Sleep eventually tries to take its claim. My mind fading in and out of rest. As I nearly give in I feel something press against my shoulder, foreign words being mumbled near my ear. His hand fists at my shirt, his head nuzzling against mine. I feel him kiss the back of my neck, mumbling more soft words to my back. I gasp at the feeling, my cheeks tingling from more than the fire. He stiffens behind me. Neither of us moves, neither of us makes a sound.

Nothing is said as we both pretend it never happened. Falling off into tense sleep.

The next morning is…awkward. He wakes up before me, jostling me awake as he runs out of the room. I believe he holds up in the bedroom but I can't tell or gain the courage to check. I'm in a flurry of thoughts as the tingle on the back of my neck remembers his lips. Why did he do that? Surely he hates me, or the most tolerates me. His constant disrespect to my species as a whole has shown his true feelings. For fuck sakes, he tried to kill me not even a week ago.

I circle on the thought the whole day, trying to make some sort of sense of the small bout of affection. It isn't till later that I think about my feelings towards him. I don't hate him, that's clear. I just have a bit of distrust for him. The war has been going on for years now, starting over something as trivial as land. It's grown into this hatred that's on sight. I've killed a few of his people and he has killed a few of mine. As is life as a soldier. But is that a factor now? This little bubble we have created seems to have made those rules disappear. He is domineering but kind, loud but sweet. I don't hate him, I just don't trust him.

He doesn't come back in as the night falls, staying in his room. The wood has dried enough to be used, keeping the fire large. I end up going to bed without seeing him that whole day.

The next morning I wake expecting to see him. I actually hope to see him, to get some sort of guidance on what to do around him. I look around the room, not seeing any evidence of him being here. I sigh, a bit sad at the fact he locked himself away. It's weird to be so disturbed at his absents. I ignore it and get on with the day.

The snow outside has begun melting, the sun shining brightly through the trees. It's still a good two feet and dangerous to venture in but the time here is coming to an end soon. As I watch the water drip off the roof, I grow nervous. I'll have to try to head back to my platoon soon, getting back to the war. That thought ruins my day.

The sun sets and the goliath still isn't here. Nearly two days now and I've heard nothing but some stomping around. At least I know he's still alive. I feel antsy now, tossing and turning in my cot. Why is he still avoiding me? It wasn't that bad what happened, is he embarrassed? Maybe I should go break the ice, make some peace before we part ways.

I shuffle out of my cot, wrapping the blanket around myself. Walking further into the house I stop in front of the closed bedroom door. What am I doing? Perhaps it's better to turn back and pretend nothing happened. Pretend that he didn't hold me close and whisper sweet-sounding words. A lapse of judgment happens to us all. I sigh.

Grabbing the knob I open the door. I shuffle into the darkroom, the light of the moon guiding me towards the bed. A figure sits up in the bed, glowing partially in the light. I walk around the bed, crawling in beside him. His large hands grab my hips to tug me closer. All thoughts evade me as I follow his lead. I throw my leg over his hip, straddling his lap. His hand glides up my back, petting over my braid. He digs his fingers into my hair.

"I wante-," he tries to speak. Words aren't important now. Without much thought I quiet him with my lips, taking his for mine. It's his turn to gasp, freezing while I slant my mouth against his. His fingers clench, tugging on my hair, reacting swiftly. His kiss is sweet. It's a warmth I've craved all day. I pet at his chest, touching the cold skin peeking out the tears of his shirt.

"you're cold," I mumble against him. He forces me back, licking at my lips. I trace his tongue with my own.

"you're so warm," he smiles.

His freezing fingers dig under my shirt to send a chill down my spine. I shutter in his hands, relishing in his touch trailing up to my chest. He kisses me as he twists our positions. Slowly, he guides me onto my back as he crawls over me. I don't bother thinking, wanting to focus on his touch.

He removes his shirt while I shove mine off. We smile at one another, leaning back into another kiss. I pull him close, straying off the cold with his heat. His hips slant against mine, grinding hard into my crotch. His hardening cock brings a zap of need to my body, craving more and more.

We can't wait a second more, peeling our pants off and guiding his large cock to my wet heat. I'm almost hesitant in taking him, his length and girth way bigger than I'm comfortable with. When he pecks my cheek I trust him to be gentle. I take his cock with a choked cry, his grunts playing around the quiet room. As he bottoms out we both take in a much-needed breath.

"Varoth," he says suddenly. I look at him bemused.

"What," I ask, grabbing at his arms.

"My name," he smiles," Varoth." I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. This whole time I never knew his name.

I chuckle," It's nice to meet you Varoth, I'm Evelina. You can call me Eve." he grabs my hand, holding my fingers in his palm as he lifts my knuckles to his lips.

"it's a pleasure, Eve," he presses a kiss to my skin. It's silly and sweet, I want to hit him or kiss him.

With our introductions out the way, he begins to pump. His hips slowly undulate, grinding into my hips with every descent. The feeling of him is beautiful, warm, and intoxicating. Part of me realizes the taboo of it all, sleeping with the enemy. Yet, I can't bring myself so care.

He fucks me like he cares, petting along my sides and worshipping every inch of me with his touch. His lips press every space he can reach, sucking and nipping to his heart's content. I can't look away, watching in awe as he lazily pumps his hips and kisses my chest. Not being able to take it any longer I drag him up, meeting his eyes with a smile. My thumb pets at his cheek before I slant my lips against his.

"you're so beautiful," he purrs against my mouth," so strong and determined."

"Yea," I ask, licking his top lip," I thought you hated how determined I was." his hands trail down to my hips, gripping them to buck harder in his next thrust.

"I hated how it pleased me," he groans," everything about you draws me in. That's the only thing I can hate about you." I flutter around him, twitching at his praise. His face clenches up for a moment, showing his blissful torment.

We make love this night, no doubt about it. Our slowly climbing peaks don't need to be rushed as we just enjoy one another. We kiss and bite, mumbling praises to the other as the fire inside stokes to an inferno. I break first, almost startled by the sudden pleasure. I writhe and cry out, clenching around him. He doesn't falter as he watches me fall apart. It's not till I'm laying exhausted in the sheet does he take his own end. His hips clap against mine, taking his fill before spilling in me. He groans long and loud, collapsing atop of me.

Sometime later we lay cuddled in bed. He curls around my back, hugging me at the waist. His arm pillows my head, allowing me to play with his hand. I compare our sizes, amazed at how easily he can fit my hand in his. His large fingers please me, them curling over mine.

"Were you embarrassed about the other night," I ask as I trace the lines of his palm.

He hums," I didn't know you were still awake."

"so you decided to hide in here till the snow melted," I tease. He grabs my hand in his, intertwining out fingers.

"It sounds childish when you say it like that."

"Well, it was," I say. He nips at my shoulder in retort.

"You have a power over me that makes me act like a whelp. I can't help but act a fool when you're near," he pecks my shoulder. I hum, smiling to myself.

We fall asleep in the cold room, keeping each other warm. It's the best sleep I've gotten since we got here. Though my toes feel near frozen and my thighs feel sticky, it's the most restful night.

Come morning I wake to a breeze ghosting over my back. I shiver, rolling over to snuggle into Varoth. Cold is all I'm met with. I stretch my arm out, feeling the empty bed. Confused I bolt upright, looking over the vacant area. I look around the room. His clothes are missing along with him. Perhaps he is already by the fire.

I get dressed and walk out into the main room. The only thing that greets me is a blazing fireplace, even the cots are cleaned up and put away.

"Varoth," I call out.

Nothing.

I search the whole cabin, an unsettling feeling curling in my chest. When I open the front door I get my answer. The snow has melted through the morning, coming to a manageable height. In the snow is footprints leading out and away. My jaw ticks as I slam the door shut.

Guess it's over now.

I pack up my things numbly. The hike through the woods is lonely, not even the birds keep me company. It's well towards sunset when I finally find civilization, a small town a few miles away from the woods. I make contact with the crew stationed here and get back to my life before everything.

The next few weeks feel hollow. Working has lost its appeal, it's passion. I fought for a purpose, to be free of the goliath's anger. To reclaim the lands they stole from us. It was a solid following, but now? Every fight I can't even bother to look at them, seeing the humanity in every single one. What's the point of reclaiming the mountains? Why try to take that away from them when it's all they have?

It's a month later when I resign from the war, dishonorably discharged. I try to live out of the path of the war but it seems there it's not much of an escape. The people still rant and rave about the goliaths. I pick up and leave, making it to a neutral town far away from it all. Starting a new life in a new land.

I make a career for myself as a blacksmith's assistant. The years of hard labor in the service have toughed me up for such back-breaking work. I offer the large orc my help in fetch tasks, at least till I learn enough to be of actual use.

"Eve," the orc grunts," you don't mind heading over to the lumbermill to get me some wood for handles?'

"Of course not," I jump up," anything to not be sitting in this sweltering heat."

The older man laughs, wiping sweat from his brow," you're telling me."

With an objective, I make my way down the village. The small hunting village is home to a melting pot of creatures. It's almost a haven for all. Orcs and dwarves work together along with humans and elves. It's nice living somewhere so accepting.

I make it to the mill at the edge of town. The saw is heard from down the road, the crew already hard at work. I walk around till I spot someone chopping wood in the center of a pile of logs. He is a pasty man, large and strong. I call out to him.

"Excuse me, sir," I shout over the saw. The man launches his ax down again, splitting the log easily. With that done he glances over his shoulder. I almost recoil at the sight, my traitorous heart lurching.

"Evelina," Varoth gawks. His deep gravelly voice nearly calms my nerves. It's nice to see him, at the same time that it isn't. I almost contemplate running.

"Varoth," I growl. He tosses his ax, walking over with his loud steps. His quick movement startles me into taking a step back. He comes to me fast, grabbing at my arms before I can race off. I fight in his hold, angry and frustrated with him. He left and it still stings. I never let myself think about it, labeling the memories as forbidden in my mind. He pulls me flush to his sweaty chest, my feet dangling off the ground. His mouth captures mine in a fierce embrace.

For a moment I can forget my ire, melting into his touch like a lovesick woman. I give myself that few seconds, and only that.

I push him away, shaking out of his arms and falling to the ground before slapping him across the face. He barely flinches, his head staying still.

"You don't get to do that," I stab my finger into his chest," you have no right!"

"I know," he grunts, looking at me with awe. He doesn't look mad or confused, but happy. It plucks at my nerves and my heart.

"Fuck you, Varoth," I spit," you don't get to grab me like that and kiss me as nothing happen. Like you didn't leave me alone in that bed, confused and worried. Do you understand how much it hurt to see your footsteps in the snow that morning? I had to suck it up for weeks, pretend that what happened never happened. I had to fight on like my enemy doesn't look just like you." a frustrated tear rolls down my cheek. I wipe it away and continue, letting out the anger and hate I've hidden for weeks.

"You made me so confused! I knew what I was before we fell off that hill, I knew what I fought for. Then you came and fucked me up, fucked me over. I was left conflicted and scared as I walked back to the life I knew. But it really wasn't the life I knew, it was all wrong. I had to drop everything I used to know and start all over again because you fucking kissed my neck and whispered sweet words. So fuck you, Varoth," I vent," fuck you."

Speaking felt like opening an old wound. I always imagined what would happen if I saw Varoth again. I thought I would just walk by him and pretend that nothing went on between us, to hold my head high and ignore him. I wanted to be better than this, to care as little as he did when he left. I hiccup, snorting back snot. I can't do that. That night meant more to be than him it seems.

I shutter as sobs try to wrack my body, the months finally catching up to me. Varoth tugs me into his arms, petting at my back as I cry. I beat at his chest, wanting to be angry, but all I feel is tired.

"I'm sorry, Eve," he crouches down to his knees, burying his face against my hair," I couldn't stay, we both know that. Saying goodbye would have been too hard for me. I was a coward, and for that I'm sorry." I let him hold me, stealing his comfort as it's what I'm owed.

"You should have said something," I mumble, exhausted, against his shoulder," I felt so used that morning. Like that night meant nothing to you. I could only think that you truly saw me as some low life human to be used and discard."

He recoils at my words, reaching up and cupping my cheeks. His eyes dart between mine, his brow pinched in concern.

"That night meant everything," he says sternly," I am just a coward who couldn't face the consequence of the next day. Do not think any longer that I wanted to use you because that is the biggest lie I can think of."

I can't help but snort in amusement," I guess you're the real poltroon."

He smiles, softening as he speaks," yea, I guess I am."

We stand in the lumberyard just staring at one another, so much left to be said. Yet, all I can think about is kissing those plump pale lips.

"Varoth," I cup his hand against my cheek," why are you here?"

His thumb pets under my eye," I moved here shortly after the snow completely melted. I couldn't fight in a war I no longer believed in."

"I understand that," I nod bitterly," should I be so bold to assume I'm the reason for that change?"

He smiles, leaning down to drop his head against mine," of course you are. Every change I've made since meeting you is your fault." I choke out a laugh, more tears rolling down my cheeks. Nothing stops me from reaching up and kissing his cheek, his nose, his lips. I've missed him. He returns the gesture, making a smile curl up my face as he kisses me everywhere.

"I have yearned for you every day," he kisses my cheek," scolding myself for being such a fool ever since."

I giggle from his attention," you have been known to be an idiot, but I've missed you too."

He stops his kisses, rolling his forehead against mine," do you think I'd be allowed to make up for lost times?"

"I don't know," I look to him with a teasing glint in my eye," you still have to make up for leaving me cold and alone in bed."

"That I do," he shuts his eyes," perhaps spend my whole life making up for that mistake."

It's a long while before we can gain the courage to split apart, making plans to meet up after work. He helps me carry the wood to the blacksmith, catching me up on his life since he found the village. I can't stop the smiling that graces my lips.

I think everything is going to be a-okay.

#12 days of christmas #12 tropes for christmas #Enigma-IM #exophilia #monster boyfriend #goliath boyfriend #snowed in

219 notes · View notes