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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

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Little Border Town Pt. II

Summary: Harry starts to find himself more and more drawn to the bookshop owner. She’s maybe not as annoying as he first thought. And maybe Harry isn’t the worst like she thought either. A little notebook, drinks, shoes, and a boat begin to show each other that.

AKA: Harry and Y/N are neighbors that fight all the time, the whole town wants to know when they’ll just fuck.

ello loves, part 2 is finally here pls let me know what you think!! barely proofread sorry... also i think theres gonna be quite a few parts to this because i keep not getting all i want to say said in each part. and im trying to keep the chunks relatively short. — also I made one direction lowkey exist bahaha

Word Count: 9.2k | Warnings: flirty fighting/banter, slowburn

Part 1

The next day Harry found himself walking into the bookshop next door without really thinking about it. He hadn’t seen Y/N again for his early morning run and he had his list for her of the Paul Simon albums he already had. They hadn’t had their windows or shades open last night either so it was the first night he didn’t give her a salute and she didn’t flip him off. The jostle in routine seemed a little weird to him so as he walked through the shop's door and the bell sounded, he thought the smile on his face was because he was well rested and unbothered by anything.

Y/N had slept in this morning. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the beginning of Fall always put her in a cozy sleepy mood. She wanted to go to a pumpkin patch and watch a fire burn out in a fireplace. She wanted to listen to her halloween playlist and plan out an intricate costume with her friends. All of this was a wistful dream though. She had quickly learned that the little border town didn’t celebrate Halloween how they did in the States or any major cities. It was okay, at the end of the day, even if she was a little bummed about it. This was her new life and she would have to adapt to the new customs.

After she walked downstairs and unlocked the door, she went back over to her front counter. Yesterday, right when Harry had come in, she had found a booklet of Marie’s. It was leafed over to the point that all the pages were crinkled and dirtied from hand debris. Each page was filled with her loopy handwriting, all of it in French. She must have only liked blue pens because even if the type changed over different pages, the color was always blue. Each page was headed with a name, a customer’s name Y/N was starting to realize as she leafed through the pages. She sat back on the wooden stool she had gotten for behind the counter and propped the book in her hand. After the name of the customer there were extensive details on them. Not their purchases specifically, but their preferences, their personality, and just tidbits about any quirks they had or interesting things Marie had decided were of note.

She found many names that were now familiar to her after her few months of living in the little border town. There really weren't that many people to get to know and the tourists were starting to die down now that the school year was getting back in. After a few minutes of pouring over Monsieur Friedfrickson’s page, who lives across the street from her and runs the flower and gardening supplies shop, she flips to an even more familiar name’s page.

“Harry Styles.” The page had the name written out in strong tall letters. Marie had used a blue inky pen for his page, not a ballpoint. “Likes Music. Poetry. Love stories. Romance with a happy ending, but also likes the practical love too.” The interests are laid out plain and she purses her lips at the idea that Harry is interested in romance novels. She wondered what type of poetry he liked since Marie didn’t seem to think that had to be elaborated on. “He’s a special one,” it reads and Y/N scoffs to herself, really Marie? She reads on, “His heart is in the right place, but he’s got a mouth on him. Quick-witted and charming, but kind-hearted and sincere.” She pauses, and flicks the page back and forth, checking that it still reads Harry’s name when she gets back to it. Was she really the only one who found Harry vapid and annoying? Sure she had softened a little towards him since she had arrived, but they were by no means friends. “While seemingly perfect in every way, Harry is actually-” it reads and she mutters to herself, “Ok, now we’re getting somewhere.” “While seemingly perfect in every way, Harry is actually scared of his own shadow.” “This can’t be real!” She once again scoffs at the book and looks up to the ceiling like Marie is going to talk back to her from beyond. “His exterior persona is very strong, both physically and in his personality, but it seems like he’s just waiting for that right person that he can really be vulnerable with and let them into what he’s really thinking. He’s looking for his Angie.” Now she’s just confused. Who the fuck is Angie? She almost doesn’t finish reading the page because honestly it’s just making her mad, but there’s only a few more lines. “Lots of tattoos, why so many tattoos? Thinks he’s funnier than he is. Flamboyant Harry is best.” And beside that last sentence is a star. She tries to hold in her laughter. At least it wasn’t a complete page of praise for Harry.

Thinking back to her knowledge of Harry, she realizes that Marie must have known him for about three years. Maybe more if he had come to visit before moving there officially. She agreed with Marie that Harry had a lot of tattoos and that he thinks he’s funnier than he truly is, but she was yet to see flamboyant Harry. She knew he painted his nails and wore rings, as well as interesting clothes, but she wouldn’t say he was particularly flamboyant for any of that. That comment definitely piqued her interest. When would Marie have seen Harry where he was being flamboyant?

Her eyes scan over the page once more and realize that this book is only for the most current year. Marie re-did the customers' outlines every year. So this was this past year before Marie died. She wondered where the other books might be and if Harry’s outline had changed over time and also if her name was in the one from when she had visited. That would be interesting to read. It’s strange to read a dead person’s private musings. To her knowledge, no one else alive knew the contents of these pages and these pages seemed especially personal since they spoke of people’s lives and who they were at their core. Maybe that’s why she didn’t hear the chime of the door this morning when the first customer arrived.

Her eyes don’t shoot up from the page until two ringed hands enter her eye line on the counter. The tanned skin, with the gold and silver dazzling rings on each finger and the cross tattoo all register in her mind as her eyes go wide. She snaps the book shut when her eyes meet Harry’s almost ivy green eyes - they’re darker in the foggy fall light streaming through the window today. She hadn’t even turned on the lights yet in the store, the natural light being enough for her this morning. The book is clutched in her hands as Harry’s smile widens to a grin of amusement.

“What have you got there?”

There’s no cover on the book so he can’t make anything out about it. He assumes it’s some novel she’s embarrassed of and has chosen to slip the cover off of to keep anonymity of it. This assumption is why his tone is so teasing and why she grimaces at him in response. Her cheeks have also tinted themselves, she’s flustered that the man she had just been conversing about with the book was now in the store.

“None of your business.”

“I guess not.” He replies easily when she responds curtly and places the book out of sight somewhere under the countertop.

“Why are you here again?” She’s avoiding his eye contact now, feeling like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been even though it was perfectly within her right to read something that now belonged to her.

Harry’s smile falters with her followed curt reply. Annoyance settling in, Harry straightens up and removes his hands from the counter. The familiar feeling doesn’t exactly feel nice, but familiarity is better than discomfort. “You wanted a list of my Paul Simon records? So you could order me one I didn’t already have?”

She looks at him curiously as the conversation comes back to her from yesterday morning and she nods. That conversation was real. “Oh yeah, I said that.” She replies, still not looking at him. “Okay,” she says when he doesn’t move or do anything. Her eyes widen, silently asking him to get on with it.

His hands shove into his pockets, searching around for a list he apparently had made. They come out empty. He pats over his jacket pockets and feels nothing but his phone and wallet, no list. “Fuck,” he mutters beneath his breath. She scratches at her eyebrow and sits back on her stool, seeming like she might be waiting awhile. After a few more minutes and no produced list, she sighs. “Do you just want to go next door and grab it since you obviously forgot it?”

“I didn’t forget it…” His voice is low and he shoots a glare at her, the annoyance that had come back had now doubled.

“You did, but it’s okay if you can’t admit that-”

“It must have fallen out of my pocket!” He insists.

She rolls her eyes and stands up. Walking to the front door, she looks on the ground and then a little ways outside. “I don’t see it, just go back and get it. You probably left it in your boudoir, it’s fine.” Her tone is a little less condescending now and more understanding. She forgets stuff all the time and she really wasn’t trying to be rude when he first came in. He had just startled her is all.

He turns around to face her. Her body is now completely out in the open area of the front of the store. His head tilts and one of his loose curls flops over his forehead while he takes in her appearance. “Why do you do that?”

She wets her lips and steps closer to him, more on her way back to the counter than anything. “Do what?” She’s oblivious to what he’s taken note of.

“When you have a conversation in English you’ll swap in some words that are French. They’re easy words to figure out and you don’t do it a lot, but you’ve done it enough times for me to notice.”

“Oh...I don’t know. I prefer French to English. It’s so much sexier.” She walks closer to him and utters her next sentence as she brushes past his shoulder. His gaze follows her every movement. “Would you prefer a girl to whisper in your ear, “let’s go back to my bedroom” or “let’s go back to my boudoir.”?” Her French accent hangs in the air with the word and compared to the hard American accent she had employed for ‘bedroom’, ‘boudoir’ sounds far more dirty this time than before.

A shiver rolls down Harry’s spine, but he doesn’t let it show. She shrugs her shoulders, “I think the answer is clear.” He clears his throat in response and a smile grows on her face. “Don’t you agree, monsieur?” She leans her head into her hand now that she’s behind the counter and looks up at him sweetly. He knows she’s teasing him now, her smile more of a sultry smirk.

“Piccola diavola,” his Italian rolls off his tongue and she squints at his words. She knows “devil” but the first word troubles her - it just means little. Her Italian really wasn’t strong and it hadn’t improved that much since she’d been in the little border town. But she also wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking what he had said. Harry chuckles at her confusion and relaxes now that he feels the playing field has leveled once again.

“So your list… Do you want to go grab it? Or if you can just list it off the top of your head? As enthralling as your conversation skills are, I actually don’t have all day.” She trails off again, her questions lilting from her mouth after regaining some composure.

“I wasn’t the one teasing about taking someone up to their bedroom,” he huffs. Her face colors with crimson. While she had been teasing him, she didn’t want to be called out for it.

“Wasn’t teasing…”

“So it was a serious offer?” He inquires with a lop-sided grin, changing the meaning behind her words in one fellow swoop.

“That’s not what I was saying! Shut up and give me your list.” Now her blush was all over her face and neck, and she was totally and completely flustered by Harry. She glanced down at her hands that were fiddling with a pen and paper, ready to write his words down.

“I can either shut up or tell you my list. But it’s sadly one or the other, love.”

She groans and takes her free hand to run it over her face. “Just tell me what you already have, Harry. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles and spreads out his hands in front of them both. He crosses back to the counter and leans on it once more. They are in close proximity once again, only the counter between them now and she can feel his hot breath fan over her softly. Smells of wintergreen gum, her favorite.

She glances up at him and their eyes hook together for a moment before she tears hers away to look back at the paper. He rattles off a good amount of Paul Simon’s albums and she nods approvingly as she scribbles the names down. She would have to look through his discography to find the ones Harry didn’t have and she probably could’ve made Harry do that and then give her that list, but she didn’t. It was too late now to do that as well, so she’d just have to live with her decision.

When he finishes, she glances at him once again. His eyes are very large. A detail that isn’t really important about him is seared in her mind. They’re big and they’re staring right at her. His pupils are almost as big as his irises, it was interesting. Her eyes shift under his gaze after a beat and she straightens up again. While they went over his list, she had indulged in the close proximity, the mingling of warm breath and brushed hands as she scribbled and he pondered. She nods a farewell, “I’ll let you know when I order next, but I won’t say what album you’ll get. It will be a surprise.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,” his smile snaps back to his face and he scratches absentmindedly at his side. He hesitates before exiting the store. “I have a question.”

“Don’t need my permission.”

He emits a half-laugh, half-scoff from his parted lips. “Wasn’t asking for it...How come you never go out?”

She stares at him curiously, her head tilting to the right. “How would you know I don’t get out?” She challenges him.

“There’s only one pub in this little town and I’m your next door neighbor. I know.” He’s insistent on being right.

She scoffs, but only in an attempt to cover up her embarrassment. Her skin had finally cooled from all the excitement that had happened earlier and she wasn’t in the mood to grow red once again. Today was the first day she had ever felt flustered by Harry. It was annoying, it made her feel out of control. She liked to go out well enough, maybe more than the average person. But she’d only been in the little border town for a few months and going out hadn’t been on the top of her list of things to do. Sure, it would be nice to go get a drink out in the town, but she didn’t really have anyone to go with. Meeting people wasn’t hard in the town, but there weren't many people who were her age and she hadn’t particularly clicked with anyone where she would want to go out on the town with them. It was embarrassing to face the fact that she wasn’t flourishing as much as she had hoped. She was happy, but being confronted with the truth that she hadn’t gone out yet dampened her belief in her success in the little border town.

“I - It’s not at the top of my list of priorities,” she stutters, her chin raising a little in indignance.

One of his shoulders shrugs and Harry makes a little face as if he was indifferent to her answer, even though she knew much better than that. Harry always wanted to get a reaction out of her, maybe that was all he gained from their interactions - entertainment. She didn’t know, but she didn’t feel like giving him the satisfaction and left it at that. His eyes meet hers again, his stare far more intense now. “Ciao, diavola.” He simpers, repeating the little nickname. It was far more sultry of a nickname than ‘Shrimp’ but she wasn’t going to complain. She rolls her eyes in response, the only correct one at that.

That night, she found herself feeling pulled to journey down to the pub. It was on the Italian side and like she had acknowledged to Harry, she hadn’t been. She wouldn’t admit to anyone, especially not Harry, that his question had been what had pushed her towards the establishment when night fell. Yet, here she was. Her pants were dark red silk that matched the black tank top with red embellishments that she wore over her chest - the only part of her it really covered. Her boots were a matching black with gold metal bits, they were knock-off horsebit Gucci shoes, the closest she could get to the real thing with her modest budget. She was having to be more frugal lately, after buying her car here in September, she had really seen how little money she truly had.

The heels of her boots clicked against the cobblestones as she stalked up to the front of the bar. There was happy chatter seeping out the open door, the warm but dimmed light also flooding out along with the sounds of people within. Taking a deep breath and fiddling with the waistband of her pants for a second, she made her way into the bar. Stepping off the deep end and making the plunge. She knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but after months of not going there, she felt a little sense of apprehension now.

The warmth was the most surprising bit of the bar that she felt when she stepped past the threshold. Some Italian song was buzzing below the words of the patrons and she smiled at the automatic welcome she felt upon entering.

At the tables, there was a mix of younger and older patrons. At the bar, there wasn’t much of anyone. The young bartender leans across the bar to talk to another man, who had dark brown wavy hair and a dark linen shirt on. He’s seated at the bar and his back is to her so she can’t make out anymore than that. She doesn’t notice the myriad of tattoos gracing the patron’s arm that rests casually on the bar as he laughs at something the bartender had said, just for him.

She smiles, thinking it’s a cute little flirtation between the two and hates that she has to go over to break it up. Her movement gets the bartender’s attention easily and has the patron glancing her way as well. The smile she had once had falters off of her face and her eyes go wide at the realization of who she has settled herself beside. She had left a seat open between her and the man, but now she wished she had chosen a spot across the bar and simply flagged down the bartender. Better yet, she wished she had stayed home. As her smile falls away, Harry’s only grows wider. He’s grinning down at her as he moves his whole body to face her.

“Ciao!” The bartender starters, not noticing her discomfort at seeing Harry. He begins to ask what she would like in Italian, but her eyes widen even further. He’s speaking far too fast for her and she blushed in embarrassment. In her fluster, she forgets to even try French and she just stares dumbfoundedly at the handsome man behind the bar, who’s now looking at her with great curiosity. Harry has watched the entire thing and chuckles behind his glass. She has no attention span left to allow her to even try and guess what he’s drinking.

He interjects for her, actually saving her any more embarrassment, surprisingly. “She doesn’t speak Italian. She’s from the French side and new in town, so she hasn’t been able to refine her Italian.” The bartender gives a smile and nod of understanding in her way and she wishes she knew what Harry had just said. Whatever it is makes the bartender switch to French for her and her jaw goes from being dropped back into a normal position.

“What can I get for you, mademoiselle?” He transitions smoothly and she smiles, his French accent sounding practically perfect. She’s recomposed herself, but Harry is still watching her intently, like a reality television show that he can’t wait for the trainwreck finale to occur on.

After she orders, the bartender gives her a wink and then walks off to get what he needs to begin preparing her drink. Harry slides over, eliminating the courteous one seat between them. Her eyes watch the movement and she refrains from the letting out the sigh festering in her chest. She really had hoped he would not be here tonight, at least that’s what she believed. She truly felt embarrassed that the night after Harry had accused her of never going out, he had seen her out. But it also was nice not to be sitting in the bar alone. It seemed that Harry had been sitting alone at the bar before she had come in, but she also wasn’t Harry and didn’t know how much enjoyment she would have gotten out of being alone.

“I see my words had some effect on you.” He says out of the corner of his mouth after running his tongue over the bottom of his lip. Her scoff once again dies in her throat because she knows he’s right and he knows it too. There is no being proud right now. He essentially caught her red handed.

“Thought I’d come out and see what all the fuss was about. I see you’re alone tonight, but I assume that’s how most nights go.”

“You should know by now that is simply not true.”

“Just because you leave with someone doesn’t mean you come with someone.”

“I guess…” He trails off.

She picks up when he doesn’t seem to have any more of a response. “How do you even meet people here? Isn’t it all locals?”

“Not always. Not all of the people here are locals tonight,” He scans the crowd. “She’s visiting...So is she...that whole group actually. Look French. So we’ve got a group from Nice tonight…” He looks a bit more. “Eh, that looks like it tonight, but still. It’s plenty.” He finishes with a smirk and she grimaces, understanding the meaning behind his words.

The bartender returns with her White Russian, which Harry had cocked his head at, but had kept his opinion to himself for once. Expecting Roman to return to their conversation, Harry turns his attention back to him, but he is only greeted with the side of his head because Roman is still staring at Y/N. He coos something to her in French, that Harry can’t pick up and his nostrils flare when she emits a giggle following their exchange. The two people he was last talking to were now ignoring him to talk to each other. How rude.

After another moment without their attention, he huffs loudly. Roman seems too entranced in Y/N to notice, but her eyes slide over to him. “Yes?” She inquires, albeit disdainfully.

Harry isn’t sure what to say to her now that he’s gained her attention. He was on his second drink and her stare has made his mind go blank. All he had wanted was for her to stop flirting with Roman so that she’d pay attention to him. But he hadn’t thought of his next step yet. He takes a sip of his beer to grant him a little more time and she rolls her eyes at his action. His mind rattles through possible things to say, but every single one is coming up as not good enough.

“I used to be in a band.”

Her head tilts and she swivels more to Harry. His comment is unexpected and rather intriguing. She had expected something annoying or rude. Truly she had just expected him to say “Nothing” once he had swallowed his drink so he could distract her from enjoying her night.

“You were in a band?” She asks incredulously, her voice pitching slightly higher than normal. While Harry was many things, including handsome, she just didn’t think he had the right persona to be in a band. He dressed like a grandfather most days and he tended to a little shoe shop, he didn’t come off as a guy who would enjoy traveling around performing. The constant praise would be on brand though, she conceded.

Harry nods and bites back his smile, knowing he had struck the perfect chord. “I was...it only took off in the UK but we were pretty popular.” He boasts.

“So what do you play?”

Harry’s eyes widen, expecting more of a question about the name of the band or something. “Well, it was, like, a boy band…” He says.

She was taking a sip of her drink and she contained her little laugh behind her glass. Another hum as she swallows the liquid that burns her throat a bit. “Oh. Interesting. So no instruments.”

“Well I can play a bit of guitar and piano!” He adds quickly, seeing her eyes shift away from him, like she thinks the conversation is over. “I was thinking of trying a solo thing, but then plans changed...”

“And now you’re here?”

He echoes her, affirming the question. “Now I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

“You don’t miss it then?”

“Didn’t say that. I miss it at times, but this is where my life took me and I’m happy to be here. Maybe happier than I ever was in the band.” His eyes stare at the liquid in his glass and he swirls it lightly, determined to study the way it moves as he ponders something quite personal to him. He never really talked about his past with anyone here. Saying he was in a band and retrospecting that time are two very different things to share with someone. She’s just watching him now, not trying to make a quip or bug him. His demeanor shows that’s not something he’s very interested in hearing right now.

She experimentally puts a finger on his knee when it seems that he’ll never raise his gaze from his glass. His eyes move down to the tiny pressure he feels and sees her painted nail poking in to him. His tongue darts across his lower lip as he raises his head to meet her eyes. He notices the sparkle in them, she finds amusement in the childish gesture and so does he.

“I do miss the stage though,” he admits, smiling more now. “Performing. It was like nothing else.” Instead of a sad state of mind, his look is far more wistful now and she actually feels the smile growing on her face.

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime, then.” She says resolutely after taking the last bit of her drink and then pushing the glass across the bar. Roman had wandered off, much to Harry’s pleasure, but now they both needed another round so she was looking for him.

Harry slides over a chair so that they’re sat side by side. He had originally done it to reach across her for a napkin, but then hadn’t retreated to his original seat after he was successful. They talk as they drink, but most of it seems to be flirtatious teasing even if neither of them recognize that fully. Harry just wanted her attention earlier and now he found that he wanted to keep talking to her all night. It was a Friday and usually he would be looking for someone to take home. The group of women at a table that he had observed were visitors would be a perfect place to start his quest, but that wasn’t on his mind. He liked watching the different shades of blush Y/N’s face kept turning as she drank more and how silly she was getting with each passing drink.

She was enjoying her time out, she had only gotten wine drunk in the confines of her little home since she’d been in the little border town. And that endeavour was all by herself. It was much more fun when you had someone to talk to, so joking around with Harry was a nice surprise. She no longer felt embarrassed about showing up after he had teased her for never going out earlier today. Now she felt empowered, like she could come to the bar whenever she pleased. He was nicer than she had realized. His hand was quick to encircle her back respectfully when she laughed a little too hard at a joke and began to tip off her stool. His smile was genuine and his eyes didn’t flit over her body more than once. His jokes were funnier than she had first thought or maybe that was just the alcohol clouding her mind, that one she wasn’t sure about. But, truthfully, Harry was exceeding expectations tonight and being a stand up human being for once, in her eyes.

A couple at the end of the bar, locals, watched on as the shoemaker and the bookkeeper threw back their heads in boisterous laughter and placed their hands on each other chastely. The older women smiled to themselves as Y/N smacked Harry’s bicep after an especially cheeky joke he told her. They were going to have a field day with this interaction once they told their friends tomorrow morning.

After drink three, she definitely felt drunk. Not completely out of it and can’t walk drunk, but I haven’t drank anything stronger than wine in months so three cocktails are kind of hitting me drunk. And because of that buzz that’s enclosed her mind and body, it makes perfect sense to her that Harry’s hand is resting casually on her knee as they talk. It also makes perfect sense to her to cross her legs, causing two things to happen. Harry’s hand shifts up further on her thigh and her boot is now dangling right next to Harry’s shin. The fabric of his cream linen trousers look especially soft and so the next logical move in her mind is to rub her foot against the fabric. She hooks around her foot easily and the patent leather of her shoe slips softly against the pant leg that flows over Harry’s calf.

He hums lowly at the feeling, but makes no other notion to acknowledge what she is doing. After the hum he gets back to the story he’s telling her about his boat. She had been extremely interested in the boat initially, but not she was transfixed on the feeling of the fabric slipping past her boot. When he shifts his leg, absentmindedly or not, she almost squeaks because this movement has Harry’s foot brushing around her ankle. The footsy was occurring without any acknowledgement of it besides small sounds the two had made in their chests. No knowing looks, just the presence of each other’s bodies against one another.

He had switched to a Manhattan after his second beer for some reason that she didn’t ask, but he was enjoying it nonetheless. When she slipped her foot against his calf, it had sent a spark of electricity from the point of contact up to his alcohol muddled head. It felt nice so he went with it.

Around midnight the two of them were practically in each other’s laps, nursing their fourth round. Brains a million miles away while their glassy eyes stared at each other. Harry’s arm nestled around her waist while hers played with the stir stick in his glass. Their heads inches away, closer than they’d ever been before.

Somehow they decided they should walk home about then. Maybe Harry had checked his phone and decided he was done. Maybe she had glanced at the clock above the bar and realized she needed to go to bed. Either way, they slammed down the last bits of their drinks and stumbled into the street. With only each other to hold them up, they had some trouble gaining their balance. They could walk just fine if they wanted to be serious, but Harry kept trying to step literally on her toes and she kept throwing all her weight into his side. Both of their actions would cause them to stumble one way or another along the empty streets. Their blurred minds thankfully didn’t get them lost, but the travel time back to their places was far greater than the travel time to the bar initially.

Finally arriving at the border of Italy and France, their shops and homes, she stared up at Harry under the glow of the streetlamp across the street. His hair looked more dark brown than his usual caramel chestnut in the light. His linen outfit billowed across his pectorals that were exposed. A tan golden color that he seemed to maintain from his frequent runs and trips on his boat. His jaw had a bit more stubble on it now, his morning shave no longer sleek on his skin. His mustache was still the most prominent bit of facial hair he had and she wondered what he might look like without it. She also thought if she’d ever kissed a man with a mustache, her mind was pretty sure she hadn’t.

As she stared, she moved from his side and took a step closer to her door. His hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her and bringing her attention to his eyes. He dropped her hand and stepped closer to her. They had been laughing about some weird encounter she had in Nice the other week. But now their laughter had faded out, the conversation all but forgotten.

“Hi.” She says meekly.

“Hi,” Harry laughs.

“I had fun tonight,” she muses and takes a step forward. She began swinging her arms back and forth, rocking on her feet. She felt antsy now that it was so quiet. The silence made her realize it was really just her and Harry together right now. Which wasn’t unusual, they had been alone together plenty of times. Maybe it was the time of night, but it felt far more intimate to her this time which made her squirm a little. Why was she nervous with Harry right now?

Harry nods and laughs again at her actions. “Yeah, you’re not so bad.”

Neither of them realized the proximity of their bodies until her hand swung a little higher and hit Harry’s hip bone. “Oh! Sorry!” She moves to take a step back, but Harry grabs her hand once again and tugs her even closer. Bringing them chest to chest under the lamp light. Her eyes flicker between where their bodies touch and Harry’s face. He’s looking down at her sweetly, gently. She feels safe with the way he’s looking at her. The warmth radiating from him was a nice contrast to the dark cold of night. The open expanse of skin that lived between the two sides of his mostly unbuttoned shirt seemed to have the most heat coming off of it. He had a jade cross that hung between the two muscles and she almost reached out to play with it. If it hadn’t been so dark and she hadn’t been so inebriated she would have realized the color matched his eyes almost exactly.

He’s not quite sure what he’s doing, but for some reason it feels like he might kiss her. The mood that was set by their surroundings made it sound right. Romantic even. Her lips look precious too, plump and puckered, flushed from alcohol and the brisk night air. They look a little glossy too from the last time she had wet them. He wanted to feel them for himself. His head ducks to move his lips to touch hers.

Upon registering his movement, she moves her hand from his grasp and places it on his chest, causing him to take a small step back.

“I think...I think this should be goodnight, Harry.” She breathes out. She’s trying to clear her mind enough to have conviction in her decision.

After a little intake of air, less than a gasp, Harry agrees, running a hand through his hair, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Her hand slips from his warm chest, immediately curling in on itself to maintain the warmth his body had just provided. She watches her tendons in her hand ripple before looking back at Harry with heavy eyes. He doesn’t seem to want to make eye contact with her, but she’s determined to leave on a good note.

“Thank you, Harry.” He looks up from beneath his lashes at his name, like a shy toddler. “You gave me the push to face a fear of mine.” With her final words she crosses the little distance between them once again and places a chaste kiss to his cheek. Immediately, his cheek flushes and she can feel the heat beneath her lips, as well as the light prickle of his stubble. Harry swallows, causing his Adam's apple to bob quickly, at the contact. His senses get overloaded with the sweet kiss and the smell of her perfume. It all swims through his consciousness.

She smiles as she pulls away and then turns to let herself into her place without another word. Once unlocked, she gives one last glance to Harry who’s also busying himself with opening his door. She doesn’t see that his free hand is caressing over his cheek where her lips had just been.

The next day, she woke up and groaned feeling the stiffness in her body. Especially her head. Oh god, her head. It was like she was back in college, but worse because she wasn’t as young. At least she didn’t have to roll out of bed for an 8 am lecture. For that, she was thankful. Still, the pounding needed to stop or subside at least. Grumbling, she threw her legs off the side of her bed, the fuzzy socks she had slipped on in her drunken stupor settled on the hardwood. She dragged her body to her window and raised the shade. Her window was fogged from the difference in temperature outside and in her room. Kneeling down, she began to pull open the window, in need of the cool fresh air on her clammy skin. Three drinks, or was it four? She couldn’t remember, either way, it was too many.

Her eyes glanced around the view of the window. It wasn’t much since it was so close to the building right next door. Peaking up, she could see the already clouded sky. To the left she could see the street and to the right was more buildings. The scene most easily accessible was the window right across from her. The shade was mostly closed, a little bit of the floor could be seen where Harry hadn’t lowered it completely. It was just the same hardwood as what she sat on staring back at her. She sat there, breathing in the crisp morning air. After a night of drinking, she usually woke up rather early, today was no different.

It dawned on her, far too slowly, that a pair of feet had entered the plain hardwood scene she had been staring at outside her window. A tiny stage now filled with two matching characters. The pair of feet were tanned and large. Little tattoos seemed to be sprinkled both on the toes and the ankles of the feet. She couldn’t read them even if she tried. But upon realizing what these feet might be doing, she had been discouraged from staring any longer. Still, her brain was foggy and her body was not nearly quick enough to hide her from view as the owner of the feet did something to open his shade as well. Then, once again, like deja vu, she was staring at her naked neighbor. Thankfully, this time, he had briefs adorning his hips to keep covering the part of him that would keep her up for weeks trying to forget again. The briefs were, just that. Brief. Low on the hips and barely touching his thighs, it seemed they really only existed to keep that one appendage covered. Still, she had to tear her eyes away from the lower half of his body and let the embarrassment wash over her when she met his eyes.

The knowing smirk of his has him nibbling at the inside of his cheek. She had been checking him out. It was a nice confidence boost after last night. The awkwardness of her stopping him from kissing her had him spiraling in his mind when he went to bed. He didn’t know why he had even tried to kiss her in the first place, probably just because he was drunk. Yeah, he was drunk and feeling needy on a friday night. That’s what it was and she had been there.

He’d have to thank her today for putting a stop to that colossal mistake. They were barely just friends, he hated to think what would happen if he’d done something so reckless as to kiss her out of the blue. Still, he couldn’t shake the thought in the back of his mind that he had gotten the vibe from somewhere. Why else would his drunken mind tell him to kiss her under the glow of the lamp light. He thought back to the bar and what they had talked about. He wouldn’t categorize it as overly flirty. He thought back to their physical interactions at the bar, okay, maybe his hand on her thigh and her playing with his drink was a little flirtatious. But that could be boiled down to him being close to hear her in the bar and her idle fingers wanting something to do while she was drunk. The footsy, though. He wasn’t sure if he could explain that one away. Instead, he would choose to ignore it. If he didn’t think about it, did it actually happen? Was it something he had to worry about? Not in his mind.

Returning his focus to the girl in the window across from him, his smirk was now fully fleshed out on his face. She was still sitting on her knees as Harry looked down at her and if they were in the same room this might have seemed like a rather compromising position. Her cheeks were still red, noticing the difference in height, she clambered to her feet.

“G’morning,” Harry’s voice is groggy and deep. Scratchy almost from the alcohol he had drank last night. It rings through her ears lowly and seems to have her blushing even more. It’s a different feeling than how his voice used to make her feel.

“Hey,” She clears her throat before responding, not wanting her morning voice to crack in front of Harry. Usually she would talk to herself a bit or sing along to her music before going downstairs, not wanting her first customers to hear her as if she just woke up. For some reason, she makes a little wave along with her greeting, feeling especially awkward at this moment. Harry chuckles and repeats her motion. His large hands mimicking the same daunting motion makes her laugh and releases some of the nervous energy she had been holding in her body.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he openly flirts, placing one hand on his naked torso and the other against the frame of the window, leaning towards her. His movement flexes just about every muscle in his body and she keeps her eyes trained on his face, determined not to be caught gawking once more.

A roll of her eyes and she’s back to staring straight into his green ones that he’s still blinking awake. “It’s almost like we’re neighbors.”

He scrunches his nose at her deadpan. “You’re no fun,” he mutters.

She sighs, “I’m fucking hungover after last night…” and runs a hand through her tousled hair.

Her foot rests itself over her other, causing her hip to just out slightly. The movement of her body that accentuated her curves and her words have Harry blushing now. The red flowers at the center of his chest and begins to spread up his neck and cheeks. He’s once again presented with the almost kiss last night.

“Big night out for you,” he laughs, “I’ll admit I don’t usually drink that much, bit of a lightweight myself.”

She only hums in response, her fingers beginning to twiddle with the hem of her t-shirt. It reminds her of what she is precisely dressed in. The big t-shirt and tiny pajama shorts that Harry can’t even see are the only things on her body besides the socks on her feet. She glances down at her legs and takes in the expanse of fleshy skin that is showing just below the shirt. Harry’s eyes follow hers and admires the skin there, wondering what it would feel like underneath his big hands.

“I should probably start getting ready for the day,” She says finally, shaking herself from the random thoughts flitting around her mind about bare thighs and the man across from her. “Are you open today?”

Harry emits a noise from the back of his throat at her question. He draws his arm back from the window and stands up straight. His head tilts as he thinks about her question, his mind still muddled this morning.

“Er..no, actually. I was planning on going out on the boat today, switching my closed day to today instead of tomorrow. Why?”

“I’m in need of shoe repair,” she smiles, her eyes catching the glimmer of the sun starting to peak out. Harry swears it’s her eyes genuinely sparkling on their own accord. “But if you’re out today, it can wait.” She begins to walk away from the window to go to another room in her apartment.

“No!” Harry steps forward, but is restricted by the screen, which keeps him from falling out of his window. She swivels around, looking at him curiously. “I can - you can just come over. I’ll fix it up for you before I head out.”

“Really?” She’s truly surprised that Harry would do such a nice thing for her. She knew they were getting along better, but for him to open shop just for her repair seemed overly nice.

“I mean,” and Harry’s once again blushing under her gaze and he’s hoping she can’t see it. “What are neighbors for?”

“I guess,” she’s still unsure. He seems like he’s nervous, his body tenses and one of his hands twisted in his curls. Harry’s so weird. “Thanks.”

She jogs the short distance from her front door to Harry’s once she’s ready. The pair of deep teal almost navy loafers she needed new soles in - she was pretty sure - in hand. A red pinstripe blouse half buttoned falling over her figure perfectly, hugging the right spots and flowing over the others. She’s in white jeans today that are flared slightly but also cropped. As it gets closer to Halloween she keeps having to remind herself not to dress festive and it’s a struggle everyday.

When she reaches the door, it doesn’t open. The cream door doesn’t budge as she tempts the handle with her free hand. She looks between the handle and the inside of the shop. Her eyes search for Harry’s figure. She had been inside his shop only a handful of times, never for a repair before. Maybe less than a handful, once to check it out and once again when she thought she needed a new pair of shoes and then decided against it. Oh, and that one time she went over to yell at him about something. Maybe the planters, maybe the shade, she couldn’t remember anymore.

Now that she thought about it, she had been in the bookshop once more. Two and a half years ago when she had visited the little border town for the first time. It was a little fuzzy for a memory, but she was sure she had at least peaked into the shoe shop after her lengthy visit with Marie the second day there. It looked just as it did now, maybe it used to be a little more vibrant, but she couldn’t be sure. She remembered an older man in the shop greeting her in Italian and her offering her sad ‘Ciao’. Back then she was even worse at Italian. He had looked at her with kind eyes and a sweet smile. It was a similar lopsided grin that she had now grown accustomed to on another man’s face. After beckoning her over to him the old man had turned away from her and shouted into the back of the store in quick Italian. It blew over her head completely. There must have been someone in the back of the shop who he had talked to. She was sure of it, because after she had perused the cute boots and shoes he kept, she saw a swish of hair coming around the counter. It was just as she was turning around to exit the shop, after she had bid farewell to the man she now connected as Joe. Whoever it was had long hair and was tall, slinking out into the main shop floor. The mysterious stranger was whoever Joe had shouted to in the back.

Y/N wasn’t the quickest when it came to timelines and how people could change over time. She didn’t connect the year she had visited with the year of someone else's arrival or the same chestnut waves cascading around someone’s face, just now much shorter. It made perfect sense who would be in the back of the store, but for some reason the idea of time and hair length were standing in this girl’s way. Oh well, maybe Harry would spell it out to her someday.

Harry finally rounds the counter that separated the back room to the front. The shoe shop was set up a little different from the bookstore. Her counter was right when you came in while Harry’s was about halfway through the shop. He shakes his head and laughs at her expression. The sound brings her out of her memory as well as a grimace on her face.

“Sorry, I was a million years away.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s ‘a million miles away’, love.” Harry continues chuckling while correcting the girl in front of him.

She holds up her pair of shoes, ignoring his teasing. “Fix my shoes, shoe man.”

His smile drops and he walks back from the door. His feet taking back steps as he beckons her into the interior of the shop. When they reach the corner, he takes the shoes from her hands and places them between their bodies. The teal loafers stare up at them. Harry inspects them, a serious expression falling over his features. His brows scrunch together slightly, the wrinkles in his forehead growing more prominent as he examines the shoes. Large hands reach out and begin to finger over the patent leather on the top and the leather soles. After a few minutes of silent deliberation, he places down one of the shoes and then holds the other up as if to showcase it.

“These,” he juts out the shoe in his hand, “need new soles. What did you do to ‘em?”

“I wear them a lot.” She insists while Harry looks on quizzically.

“I’ve never seen you wear these.”

Her brow quirks at his comment. “I wore them a lot before I got here,” she corrects. “They’ve been feeling wonky every time I try to wear them, must be because they need new soles.”

Harry nods, now satisfied with her answer. He hums, regarding the teal shoe in his hand once again. “Alright.”

She looks at him confused once again. “Alright what? Can you fix them?” What does he mean by ‘Alright’? “I’ve honestly missed wearing them these past few months.”

Harry bites his tongue, a quip ready to be voiced. He’d gotten so used to fighting with her, he was confused how it had slipped away all so easily. His fear of them not talking if they stopped fighting didn’t seem to come to fruition so he could rest easy on that front. But now he was going to have to retrain his brain not to be rude after every comment Y/N made.

“Yeah, of course.” He sighs, placing the shoe next to its mate and then turning his face to her. She had been chewing on her bottom lip, actually worried for her shoes. They really were her favorites. She’d had them forever and it would be heartbreaking if they had to be thrown out. If she couldn’t wear them though she was almost sure she’d just let them collect dust in her closet rather than dispose of them if it really came down to it.

“But it’s like a good amount of my day to replace soles…”

Her face falls, but she tries to hide it. She knew Harry was doing a favor by taking a look right now. If he could fix them it didn’t matter when he did it. What he says next though truly throws her off. No normal enemy-ship turned somewhat friendship overnight would engage in what Harry was about to propose. If any such relationship other than her and Harry actually existed.

“Do you want to come out on my boat today?” His brow arches, his lips in a soft smile, he’s being genuine.

“Why would I do that?” Her brows raise along with her voice, taken off guard by his suggestion.

“More fun waiting for me to fix your shoes on a boat than in your shop.” He says simply before taking the shoes and placing them in a little cubby hole behind the counter for safe keeping. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” Her expression doesn’t change. “Just say yes,” He pleads now.

She sighs, “Fine.” All of the reasons not to go out on Harry’s boat are at the forefront of her mind, but she still finds herself saying yes easily. His pleading really wasn’t necessary to get her to agree. The bookstore could live with being closed today, it wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #eventually both of those will bop up #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #feedback pls ❤️#me putting this uo at 12:30 am oops

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secretsniper3 · 3 years

Text

Part 2: Wet..

I wake, rolling over my alarm says 08:00, my day starts now. Blinking and drinking in my surroundings im surprised that im not bound anymore, Master probably released me from my situation before he too went to sleep, makes sense since I still have my morning routine to do. Spreading my thighs my hand creeps under the sheets and massages my clit, moisture instantly wetting my fingers as i rub up and down, fingers dancing expertly over my throbbing clit, being denied for so long my reaction is second nature now as my back arches up off my bed as my hand continues its assault on my senses. 1 edge moments later my mind abuzz with desire. Another edge, 3 to go and my morning can really begin. On and on my fingers go, dancing circles around my needy clit. Stopping just shy of another orgasm, 3 edges down. Pushing a finger and then another into my wet pussy I rub the walls and pull out seconds later. 4 edges down, returning my fingers to my box as my other hand clutches my breast, back still arched high, I slams down to the bed and thrusts my hands to my pillow. 5 edges done.

Climbing out of bed I go and brush my hair and then my teeth. A outfit is already laid out by my Master. A latex sleeveless shirt and matching pants, black high heels and a corset. My day will clearly be a tough one for me. Looking around I cannot find anything even resembling underwear. Knowing my punishment would be beyond measure if I were to dress my pussy myself I don my latex outfit for the day. Shirt, then the pants, sliding easily up my smooth legs as my juices made for handy lubricant. Pressing the latex on my pussy I pause. A simple deep breath removes my hand from what I know is forbidden to me now my morning edges are complete. Sitting on the bedside I clip my heels on so it doesnt fall off and put on my corset, only being able to loosly cinche it without help.

With great care, I walk out my bedroom door, slow paces in my high heels, my pussy rubbing against the latex with every step sending chills down my spine making my mind drift to my little buzzer throbbing away relentlessly. down the stairs, Master was waiting for me. Standing before him I assume my position on my knees, legs open palms up, head down.

“Good morning Master” I say keeping my head low.

“Morning my dear, sleep well i hope, i have a few fun things for you to enjoy today” my Master sounds eager.. its a little unsettling.

Standing up at his command I follow him to the dining room. Breakfast is already served. Im stunned, something is going on and Im concerned by what this means, my Master has almost never made breakfast for me. Heading to my seat I spot it. A large dildo, right where my pulsing pussy would lay, with my Masters guiding hand I ease down onto the large toy. The latex over my pussy parting at the intrusion! how could I not notice that gap when I put it on?? sliding down the thick cock my pussy serving to lubricate it all the way to the base. With a wet shlop Im completely full and I havnt even touched my bacon and eggs! perhaps a drink to calm my nerves, as I take a large gulp I feel warm.. a little too warm. Looking to my Master, he confirms my suspicions by raising his own glass. My pussy now spasming around the dildo as the aphrodisiac runs its course as I lean forward and stifle a moan.

My Master laughs at my situation. “Eat up my dear, your going to need your strength.” he says sending a flurry of chills down my spine leading right to my throbbing womanhood! gasping for air I raise a shaking hand to my fork and eat my food, likely spiked as well.. yes, its spiked. With each piece I swallow I feel the heat burn hotter, like a raging inferno my body craving the 1 thing my mind knows it must never have without consent! finishing my drugged meal my Master takes me by the hand and raises me up. Stopping several times to prevent a unauthorised orgasm. Leading me to the play room I see a device I have never seen before but it scares the hell out of me.

Standing, or lying in the middle of the room is a series of Stock restraints circling a large padded seat, leading me over to it, my Master lays me down flat. locking my wrists in their own personal Stock holders, followed by my ankles. Breathing faster at this development and my need constantly rising im hoisted in the air by the cushion im laying on, my restraints following suit. Standing beside me my Master reveals more holes in my latex, a hole per nipple with which he inserts a suction cup with a wire and covering it with the latex again, leaving just the wire exposed. moving down to my clit he reveals a suction cup, its thin and long and now, attached to my maddening, throbbing buzzer, he begins pumping. My eyes fly open in a combination of fear and arousal as my clit starts to get sucked into the tube, further and further its pulled from its hood till I feel it. Something hard is touching my clit, looking down Im greeted with a wire, pressing the tip of my isolated clit with the means to make me thrash around were I not restrained already. My drug ridden mind flooding with thoughts of my soon to be, hellish day that started too calmly as my Master slides a thick metal cock into my ass. I cant see it but I can bet theres a wire attached to it as well.

Moving to my head Master puts a dildo gag in my mouth and a latex hood over my head, my long red hair pulled through the back and the hood sealed tight. I cant see, I can barely hear and I can only weakly moan around this toy in my mouth, and as my thoughts go to the toy in my mouth, it expands, and again, and again! My mouth now completely full with cock my pleas and moans now a dull grunt, barely audible to those outside my hood. My pussy feels cold air, Master has moved the latex away from my drooling slit, heat radiating off my hungry hole, I breathe deep as Master presses his tongue against my slick folds. If I could scream, I would have. instead my legs tremble uncontrollably and my arms spasm, locked in my restraints thats all I really can do. Master licks again and again drawing more fluid from me. My breathing now very audible as air rushes in and out through my nose, Then I feel it. its coming, shit IM CUMMING! and then.. pure agony. My nipples cop it first, but only by microseconds, as they light up with electricity, followed by my ass and worst of all, my throbbing clit. My eyes shoot up into my skull as Im torn down from the plateau I was cresting mere moments ago! My pussy spasms in need as my Masters tongue only redoubles its assault knowing he has me, right where he wants me.

A full hour passes, and Masters Tongue leaves my pussy as another orgasm is slammed away by the electricity as this setup is designed to deny, not reward so I scream into my inflated cock gag. A few moments pass by idle as Im left to stew in my burning need, electricity occasionally zapping my nipples to make sure im denied release from my drug fuelled arousal. I hear Master say something outside my latex hood, I cant make out the words but he seems to know that I was only moments from cumming just now and thats led his to this pause to let me calm down, if that were possible with the drugs coursing through my veins and the intoxicating latex still coating my body and head Im swimming in a sea of arousal and Im not allowed to cum even a little even in my intense exhaustion im allowed only this peace of not being dragged kicking and screaming to more denial! A familiar sensation returns as Masters tongue reaffixes itself to my Labia and once again im lit of with electricity as another orgasm is beaten back, Round 2 begins.

2 Whole hours of torturous orgasm denial at Masters hands and tongue pass as im finally lowered to the ground, it only took a minute to unlock my limbs from the hellish devices that held me down, and another minute to free my ass, nipples and clit from their own hellish devices. A flick to the clit confirms Im still conscious. My Master picks me up and carries me to the nearby lounge, there he removes my hood and gag, and rests my head on his lap and runs his fingers through my sweat soaked hair. Stripping me of my latex suit, leaving only my heels on he continues my massage, as I regain my senses slowly.

“Master.. Thank you for training this slave to serve” I say weakly, as he cups my cheek with his tender hand, I roll over and fish out his throbbing cock and begin sucking, after all that pain and denial i need something I love, i need Masters cum in my mouth to savour the taste then swallow like the Good Slave I am. Eventually im rewarded with a mouthful as i drink every drop im given and swallow, it really is delicious to me now, I cant go back to a normal life, I belong to my Master.

Taking me to the loungeroom Master instructs me to edge for my lunch. A simple task but as he turns to leave he gives me the number. 30 edges.. My pussy pulses again and the flood gates reopen, I still havnt had that orgasm my body just remembered it was desperate for. oh god could I really do 30 in a row without stopping or spilling over? My Master seems to think so. Already days into my denial and with drugs wracking my brain I begin my edges. It only took a hour but I finally got them all. Another dose of drugged lunch and Im back to normal, if horny out of my mind is normal. The rest of my day is fairly standard compared to my morning training, part of me wants to do it again but not any time soon.

Pleasuring my Masters cock I polish his shoes after that in my favourite maid outfit, remembering to always bend at the waist, never the knees, my Master loves a good show. My daily chores complete Im taken to the shower and cleaned by my Master, taking great care not to rub over my pussy too hard. A lovely steak for dinner with some wine, I could hardly taste the drug in that wine, but my pussy sure felt it. My Master, eager to set me to bed attaches a chastity belt tightly to my pussy. I dont see the point as I would never touch without permission.. right?

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secretsniper2 · 3 years

Text

Part 2: Wet..

Climbing out of bed I go and brush my hair and then my teeth. A outfit is already laid out by my Master. A latex sleeveless shirt and matching pants, black high heels and a corset. My day will clearly be a tough one for me. Looking around I cannot find anything even resembling underwear. Knowing my punishment would be beyond measure if I were to dress my pussy myself I don my latex outfit for the day. Shirt, then the pants, sliding easily up my smooth legs as my juices made for handy lubricant. Pressing the latex on my pussy I pause. A simple deep breath removes my hand from what I know is forbidden to me now my morning edges are complete. Sitting on the bedside I clip my heels on so it doesn't fall off and put on my corset, only being able to loosely cinch it without help.

“Good morning Master” I say keeping my head low.

“Morning my dear, sleep well i hope, i have a few fun things for you to enjoy today” my Master sounds eager.. its a little unsettling.

#Stories #Custom

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taegis-gf · 4 years

Text

Forbidden - Part 3

Dealer!yoongi x Reader

Warnings ➜ smut, oral (f receiving), non-protected sex, some light choking, some angst and a little fluffy, yoongi got beat up a little :(

Summary ➜ You never meant to lock eyes with the beautiful stranger at Namjoon’s house party, you also didn’t mean to completely fall for him, knowing exactly how dangerous it was.

Word Count ➜ 6.5K

NB: if drug-taking in fics isn’t for you/or makes you uncomfortable, also reader is literally getting with a drug dealer, so if any of this isn't for you - please don’t read!

Notes ➜ hey. guys hehe i hope u enjoy this im in a little bit of a rut with it as i dont even really know where im taking it yet, thank u for being patient with me and lmk what u think ! also sorry for any spelling errors!!

PART1 | PART2 | PART3

The next few days passed without you hearing a word from Yoongi. You had refrained from texting him, always being too stubborn for your own good, plus he definitely didn’t deserve a text from you, However, from the way he had been ghosting you, you had assumed he probably didn’t even care or notice that you were mad at him.

You had gotten past the sad stage of it all and had now reached anger, what had you been thinking jumping into bed with someone you barely knew?

It hadn’t felt like that at the time though, you had thought you and Yoongi had a connection.

Why did it feel so right when he was with you, why did you two click so well?

And why the hell couldn’t you stop thinking about him?

He was making your life hard, consuming every thought, you had barely got your essay submitted in time and when you did you were pretty sure it didn’t even make any sense, just a spew of words on a document that you wanted out of your sight so you go back to wallowing in self-pity about some boy.

You admittedly had not left your dorm since Jungkook had spoken to you, that was 2 days ago and you really needed to get Yoongi out of your mind instead of lying in your bed and just thinking.

You were driving yourself crazy admittedly, and you knew you were being dramatic, it wasn’t like Yoongi even owed you anything, the two of you were only at the beginning of something that didn’t even have a label yet.

However, you just wanted something even if it was a ‘I never wanna see you again’, at least it would be some sort of closure.

The sound of your phone ringing instantly made you jump, the silence being so harshly interrupted it scared you half to death.

You closed your eyes for a moment before flipping your phone over only to feel major disappointment when you saw it wasn’t Yoongi’s name on your screen.

You answered anyway with a heavy heart.

“Hey Tae, what’s up?” You asked.

“What’s up?! You haven’t responded to me in 3 days, what’s up with you?” He asked, his tone sounded concerned and you could only smile sadly at the compassion your friend seemed to have for you.

“Nothing Tae I’ve just been distracted with work you know?”

You could hear him sighing softly before he spoke again.

“I’m calling to let you know we’re all going over to Joon’s, if you would read the damn groupchat I wouldn’t be calling you.”

You scoffed at the curt tone he used with you but you knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way.

“Joon’s? I’m not really in the mood for a party Tae-“

“It’s not a party,” Taehyung said, cutting you off. “It’ll just be the 7 of us babe. Please come, I miss you.”

“How many time have I told you to stop calling me that?” You asked rolling your eyes at the wall.

“Just say you’ll come? I can even come get you.” Taehyung offered.

You supposed it was better than wallowing in your bed another day.

“Yeah fine okay, I’ll come.” You said.

“Good I’m glad, I’ll come get you in about an hour, get dressed I’ll ring you when I’m outside.”

With a quick 'goodbye' Taehyung hung up and you decided to get up and make yourself look human.

You opted for no makeup and just some simple sweats, you knew you and the guys would probably just be watching a movie so you didn’t see the point in dressing up any more than that, although you couldn’t count how many times a simple hangout had been a ruse to get you to a party.

Taehyung called you again to inform you he was waiting outside, so you quickly grabbed your phone and coat and left your dorm as quick as you could.

When you finally reached outside you saw Taehyung’s car and made a beeline, opening the door and jumping in you plastered a smile on your face hoping it would take away from the prying questions you assumed Taehyung had lined up.

“Hey Tae, thanks for coming to get me, a cab to Joon’s is so fucking expensive and I know I’m super out of the way, so I appreciate it.”

Taehyung scoffed. “Please, you know I would come to get you even if you were 500 miles out of the way, what are friends for?” He stated as he started up the engine.

The drive was silent for the most part, you were surprised as you had expected Taehyung to go into full-blown interrogation mode on why you’d been ignoring everyone, but he didn’t, maybe he was waiting on you coming to him, if that was the case he’d be waiting a long ass time.

As he pulled up and you both went inside your heart warmed at the sight of your friends all talking and laughing with each other, you hadn’t seen them like this in a while and it almost made you tear up.

“Hey guys.” You said as you kicked off your shoes and took a spot on the sofa in between Jungkook and Taehyung as he had decided to follow you and sit wherever you were going.

“Hey Y/N, we all thought you were dead.” Hoseok said as stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth.

Everyone else murmured in agreement with a few sly comments about ignored messages and calls.

You closed your eyes and decided the best thing to do was to state you’d had a lot of work to catch up on and that becoming a recluse was the only way you would get it all finished.

You didn’t miss the way Jungkook side-eyed you but simply chose to not look his way for the sake of saving yourself the judgemental looks about your obvious lying to your best friends.

“Come onnnnnnn. Will someone put on a good horror movie already, and Joon please throw me a beer.” Taehyung called.

Everyone got settled as a movie was picked and the lights were switched off.

That was when your phone decided to vibrate in your pocket.

You slipped it halfway out just trying to glance at the notification and your heart jumped when you saw the name on the screen.

Notification: Yoongi: iMessage(s) 1

You muttered some excuse about needing to pee, and jumped off the sofa to run upstairs, needing to compose yourself before you unlocked your phone.

8:37PM

Yoongi: hey i cant even begin to explain how sorry I am…i understand 100% if you don’t want to speak to me again

You watched as you saw the typing dots disappear and reappear as you stared at your phone. Then another message came through.

Yoongi: i really wanted to call you but i was afraid you’d be too mad and wouldn’t pick up so please if theres even a chance you’ll speak to me again - call me. If u don’t i undertsand and i wont bother you anymore.. i feel so stupid Y/N you don’t deserve this

Your heart was beating at about a million miles per hour as you reread his messages over and over. You had absolutely no idea how to approach this.

You decided now was not the best time to call him, you were just going to have to wait it out and call him when you got back to your dorm.

You decided you’d leave him on read for now, he’d left you waiting for nearly 3 days, he could wait 3 hours for your reply.

As you walked back into the room with your friends you sat beside Taehyung and he let you cuddle up next to him, he began gently playing with your hair as you tried your best to lie down, Jungkook patted his lap as an indication you could spread your legs out and rest them on his own and you smiled as he put an arm over them.

You felt incredibly loved by your friends in that moment, tears threatening to spill as the simple comforts they were providing so naturally to you, meant so much in that moment.

You felt a little guilty at your unwillingness to tell them how upset you were, you trusted them with so much and they trusted you just as equally. But things were confusing for you at the moment and you wouldn’t even know where to start.

You looked up to see Jungkook looking at you with concern, he obviously knew a lot more than the rest of them but he didn’t know just how much Yoongi was affecting you at that particular moment.

You smiled reassuringly at him and he gave your thigh a small squeeze before you both turned back to the movie.

You hadn’t realised just how tired you were until Taehyung was gently shaking you awake, alerting you that the movie was over and even though no one was leaving or anything he offered to bring you home.

You shook your head at his offer telling him you would just get a taxi home and that he should stay and enjoy the rest of the night, he had smiled at you softly asking about 5 times if you were sure and you had laughed excusing yourself to the bathroom before he could argue with you anymore.

You found yourself in the same position, just leaning against the door staring at the messages Yoongi had sent a few hours ago, you felt groggy from the sleep and in your haze you decided that calling him and getting this over with would be the best thing to do, you weren’t thinking clearly, but then again, you never were when it came to him.

As you listened to the ringing tone you began to feel your anxiety building, you weren’t even sure what you were going to say to him or even sure how you felt towards him, yeah sure you were upset but did you even have any right to be mad at him?

It wasn’t like Yoongi was your boyfriend or anything, he didn’t owe you anything.

He picked up on the third ring an anxious and quick “Hello?” sounded from his end, like he was afraid he was going to miss the call.

“Hey…” You said, unsure of where to go with it.

“Jesus Y/N I am sorry, you must think I’m such an asshole. I wa-”

“Do you like me Yoongi?” You cut him off.

“Wh-what?” Yoongi asked, he sounded unsure, like he was afraid he would say the wrong thing.

“Do you like me?” You asked again, slower.

“Yes of course Y/N, I like you a lot.”

“Okay, do you see me as someone you can just fuck and I’ll come running when you call? Because believe me Yoongi you really are talking to the wrong girl if that’s what you think this is.”

You weren’t sure where your bold attitude was coming from, you suppose you’d been holding in a lot of feelings the past few days regarding the situation, but for some reason, it was coming out as anger and with a hint of sass.

“Jesus – no, no Y/N that is so not what I’m thinking this is, you know that right? Fuck I didn’t mean to leave it so long to talk to you, but there was an emergency and I had to leave town to do something and I only got back tonight and I’m sorry, please know I'm sorry.” You could hear the pleading in his voice, the genuine asking for forgiveness.

Your knees felt weak and you weren’t sure why but all you wanted was to see him, to tell him it was all okay and you forgive him.

But a part of you wanted to stand your ground, you didn’t want to seem like a pushover who was going to roll over because he sounded like he was sorry, this was only a phone call, you couldn’t even look him in the eyes or anything.

“Can you pick me up and we can talk?” You asked, you wanted to see him, ask him what exactly was going on.

“Yes of course, you’re not at your dorm?” He asked the question harmlessly but you felt he was a little nervous.

“No actually I’m with the guys at Namjoon’s house, I can send you the address if you can’t remember..”

“I remember Y/N. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

And with that he hung up, eager to see him - but still feeling cautious - you left the bathroom to tell the guys you were going to wait outside for your taxi.

They all hugged you goodbye and you definitely noticed how Jungkook lingered for that extra few seconds.

He could sense something was wrong with you, but he knew to wait until you came to him with your problems.

As you stood at Namjoon’s garden gate a pair of headlights began approaching slowly and you knew it was him. He stopped outside and you ran to his car door, trying to avoid any of the guys from seeing that it wasn’t just an ordinary taxi you were going home in.

It smelt like a new car inside and you turned to face the driver, he looked over at you with an awkward smile and that’s when you saw the extremely dark black eye that covered his right eye. You covered your hand with your mouth trying not to audibly gasp.

“Yoongi! Oh my god are you okay?” You reached out, wanting to touch his face but realised that wasn’t the best idea before dropping your hand again.

Your anger at him now replaced with worry, you scanned his face further to see his slightly busted lip as well.

“Y/N, I promise you it’s not as bad as it looks. Can we talk about this when we get to my place?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Your place?” You asked, confused.

“Yeah…only if you want, it’s just that it’s closer to here and I thought you wanted to talk.”

You were nodding, your stomach trying to suppress the nerves that were bubbling up at the idea of going to his place this first time as you also tried to process everything that was already happening.

“Okay, yeah let’s do that.” You said.

Neither of you spoke again the entire ride.

When Yoongi finally pulled up into the carpark of a luxury apartment complex you stared in disbelief. This was where he lived?

He makes a lot of money doing what he does you quickly reminded yourself, suddenly embarrassed at size and quality of your dorm room.

You followed him inside and stopped at the entrance completely in shock at the sheer size and beauty of his apartment.

You shook yourself, you were here for one thing.

“Take a seat please, Y/N.” He said motioning at the large plush sofa.

You took a seat but watched as Yoongi stood examining you.

“Aren’t you gonna sit?” You asked the atmosphere was tense, awkward, you couldn’t even sense Yoongi’s mood, he was just looking at you, expressionless.

You looked back at him, you were starting to feel frustrated.

“So what? We’re just going to sit here in silence, scratch that, you’ll stand, I’ll sit?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi replied.

“What?” You asked, your eyes shooting up to look at him, you knew he had to be in pain with his eye and you felt a twinge of guilt for being annoyed with him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t call or text, I know I left you in your room like that – after we had just…I’m sorry Y/N.” He sighed heavily, finally taking a seat beside you.

“Just tell me what happened, I’m an understanding person Yoongi, but I don’t think I can do this if you’re just going to keep disappearing on me…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him now he was closer, you decided the floor was the best place to look at in that moment.

“It was an emergency…it’s stupid, rivalry is a very real thing in this business. I got into a fight with some guy when I went down there. One of my friends was seriously threatened by some people and we had to go down there and deal with it.” He explained, you didn’t want the specifics really and you were glad he wasn’t giving it to you.

“Yoongi…you’re like - I mean - do you really think you’re the best guy for that sort of thing?” You were half teasing him, but also very worried, this wasn’t something that happened a lot, was it?

Yoongi scoffed out a small laugh.

“I’m not usually the guy that handles situations Y/N, I just had to go down there to talk it out with some people.”

You shuddered, you hated this, hated that this was his life.

Yoongi gently placed a hand on your thigh and you allowed him to keep it there, finally looking back up at him.

“Jesus Y/N, I’m sorry for leaving you like that, I would never do anything like that to you on purpose…please forgive me?”

You knew he was sorry, you could feel that he was sorry.

You whispered out a soft ‘I forgive you’.

You knew it was weak of you but you seemed to be at your weakest when Yoongi was looking at you like you meant the world to him.

Yoongi let out a sigh of relief, a small smile on his face, but he winced in pain as the smile opened up the wound on his lip.

“Let me get you something for that.” You said, standing.

You could use the distraction more than anything as you asked him where the bathroom was and grabbed a damp cloth and some tissue.

You sat down turning your body to face him you lightly dabbed at the wound and cringed a litte in sympathy when he hissed in pain.

“Hold the tissue to it so it doesn’t bleed again.” you said as you folded it up and handed it to him.

“Do you have any ice? It’ll help your eye..” You asked as you went to get up again.

He simply nodded, and pointed to the freezer, allowing you to worry and take care of him.

You sat back down again with a small makeshift ice pack, and told him to lay down so you could place it over his eye, he protested a little but it didn’t take much to coerce him.

“I’m seriously not even in that bad of shape Y/N, you should see the other guy.” He said, laughing a little but then immediately stopping as the pain in his lip stung.

You rolled your eyes at him, knowing he was joking but it did make your stomach twist with nerves at the same time, what if this had been a lot more serious?

When you didn’t speak he reached over for the remote to turn the T.V on, you supposed he couldn’t handle the tense silence you were giving in return for his bad joke.

As he searched about Netflix he spoke again “I have to say, I do think you’d make a pretty sexy nurse.” He joked again and this time you cracked a smile, unable to stop yourself from scoffing out a laugh.

“Are you seriously flirting with me right now?” You asked, sitting back down on his couch you lifted his legs to allow them to rest on your lap, a simple gesture to show him you didn’t completely hate him.

He laughed a little, a genuine laugh and you found yourself laughing too.

“Put a movie on, keep the ice on your eye and shut up!” You said through laughter.

You did end up watching a movie, the night got more and more comfortable as Yoongi decided to order takeout and bring out blankets to the couch.

As you both cuddled up to each other your hand absent-mindedly playing with his as you watched the movie, it was an incredibly intimate thing to do but it felt so natural you could barely keep the smile off your face.

As the movie was coming to an end you began yawning announcing it was getting late and you should get back to your dorm, but as you made a move Yoongi’s brought his arm around your waist tightly a small ‘don’t go’ escaping from his lips.

You sighed, you wanted to stay over if you were being honest but was it really the best idea?

“I don’t know Yoongi….I don’t even have a change of clothes or anything.”

Yoongi pulled you him closer to him and you let yourself relax into his touch.

“I’ll lend you something to sleep in. Please Y/N. I’ve missed you.”

And with those 3 word’s he didn’t even need to say anymore.

You let out a sigh of content. “Yes Yoongi I’ll stay.”

He got up, asking you to follow him to his room.

You obliged, following after him to the nearest door. He opened it up and motioned for you to wait on his bed while he found you something comfortable.

You looked around at the unfamiliar room, the first thing you noticed was how clean it was, that was unusual for a guy his age it was simple, his sheets white and his room plain you looked around in awe.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting if you were being honest, but as you were about to comment he was suddenly standing in front of you, a black tee and a pair of basketball shorts in hand.

You smiled up at him “Thank you Yoongi.”

“That door there is the bathroom.” he said pointing to an ensuite inside his own room.

You nodded going in and when you shut the door behind you you let out a long sigh.

You were really going to stay here tonight.

As you got changed you realised the t-shirt he had given you was long enough to ignore the shorts he had given you.

Folding your own clothes and leaving them on top of his wash basket you grabbed your phone for a quick glance before you returned to him.

A notification from Jungkook.

11:12PM

JK: I hope you’re okay you seemed a little off tonight, please remember you can talk to me about anything.

You smiled, feeling your heart swell at the loving message you typed a quick reply with a thank you and lots of heart emojis.

As you left the bathroom you saw Yoongi awkwardly standing like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

He looked up at you and you saw him eyeing your body, his eyes travelling up your bare legs, you felt the heat of his gaze taking you all in and you couldn’t help but revel in the feeling that you had that effect on him.

“I’ll – um – take the couch, you sleep here.” You could tell he was distracted over your lack of clothes but he cleared his throat and began to leave.

“Yoongi.” You called and stopped him in his tracks.

“Thank you for being such a gentleman.” You giggled.

You heard him scoff a laugh before walking out of the room, some sort of pyjamas in hand.

So here you were, left alone in Min Yoongi’s bedroom.

You werent exactly sure what you should be doing, should you just go to sleep?

As if it were that easy…

You felt giddy as you got under the covers, his bed was huge compared to your single in your dorm.

You tried to relax and calm a little remembering you were technically meant to be trying to sleep, you reached over to turn off the bedside lamp, shrouding yourself in darkness.

You decided to scroll through your phone for a while trying to think about other things and definitely not how badly you wanted to go out there and ask Yoongi to come back.

Your intentions weren’t even of a sexual nature, you simply just wanted him to lay with you, you wanted to fall asleep in his arms – something you hadn’t got the chance to do yet.

After about 20 minutes of tossing and turning and checking every social media platform you decided to take a deep breath and just go ask him, you were nervous that he wouldn’t even want to but then again he was letting you stay in his room after all.

You slowly tiptoed across the floor, afraid in case he was already sleeping you quietly opened the door.

You realised you couldn’t even tell with as you could only see the back of the couch and not his form, you decided to half shout half whisper, praying he was awake anyway.

“Yoongi!”

He head came into view as he sat up from the couch, looking wide awake and a little confused.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, a look of concern crossing his features.

“Yeah…” You realised just how shy and nervous you actually felt as you continued speaking.

“Will you come sleep beside me Yoongi please?”

You saw a small smile appear on his face, “Of course, I’m super glad you asked, I wanted to ask but I thought you would see it as creepy or something.”

You rolled your eyes smacking him on the shoulder as he got closer.

“Your whole dick has been inside me but you think cuddling is as the creepy thing to offer?!” You asked, eyes widening in shock a little.

Yoongi held his hands up in defence as he followed you to the bed both of you climbing in on either sides.

“I don’t know…” He trailed off looking at you as you now lay beside one another.

“I guess I thought you were still mad at me.”

You sighed a little and looked at him scanning his face and frowned a little at the black eye that adorned his beautiful features.

“I hate that someone hurt you Yoongi.” You said, you hadn’t really meant to say it aloud.

Both your faces were close looking at each other in comfortable silence, a small pout forming on his lips at your statement he leaned in and gave you the smallest of pecks, it was so sweet and tender you felt like you heart was going to beat out of your chest as heat formed across your cheeks.

“Let’s go to sleep Y/N.”

You nodded, leaning in a little closer to him and shutting your eyes after whispering a soft ‘goodnight’.

You woke up feeling too hot, far too hot. As you took in your surroundings and remembered where you were you smiled at the reason for your warmth, realising Yoongi had pulled you in and draped his arm over your waist in the middle of the night. You felt comfortable in his arms, having one of the best sleeps you’ve had in a long time, your worries felt at ease for once and you just simply felt in the moment with him.

You slowly shifted until you were turned to face him, he pouted a little in his sleep at the disruption and you couldn’t help but smile harder, placing a soft kiss on his pout you watched as his eyes fluttered open slowly, confusion on his face as he tried to take in what sensation had just woken him up.

He smiled when he saw you looking at him, stretching his limbs and letting out a long yawn.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked.

“Mmmm yes I did, I really like waking up next to you…” He said, his handing tracing absent-minded patterns on your arm.

“Me too…” You trailed off feeling a little sad that this wasn’t going to be a permanent thing.

“Your eye looks a little better, I think it’s starting to heal.” You said reaching out to touch his face gently.

“Hm you don’t think it’s sexy? Like in a 'wow I’m a big sexy bad boy' way?.”

You couldn’t roll your eyes hard enough turning away from him only to have him whine and pull you back to face him.

“Yeah that whine sounds so bad boy.” You said giggling as he pulled you closer and began kissing your neck.

“Hmmmm, you smell amazing.” He said nuzzling further into your neck with a groan.

You felt yourself begin to grow a little hot at the noise, his lips leaving a hot trail down to your collarbone.

You let out a pleased noise.

“Hmm you like that baby?” He asked beginning to move his body so he was hovering over yours, his mouth kissing lower.

You let out a noise of approval feeling too hot and worked up to speak.

His hands found your hips and he slowly pushed up the t-shirt you were wearing his hands gliding along your warm skin.

As he pushed it up further you helped him, pulling it off you completely leaving you in only your underwear.

Yoongi let out a groan at the picture of your almost naked body in front of him resting his forehead on your stomach trying to compose himself for a moment as the mere sight of you was making him go a little crazy.

You let out a whine “Yoongi do something. Please.”

He looked back up at you a smirk on his face, “Now who’s whining babe?”

You let out a scoff quickly followed by a sharp gasp as his mouth latched onto your nipple.

His tongue teasing and sucking you could feel the wetness pooling at your core.

You wanted to squeal a little, the frustration of how teasingly slow he was going was making you feel crazy.

As he took his time, making sure to kiss every inch of your body by the time he got close to where you needed him most you were a writhing mess.

“Yoongi please.” You gasped out when he kissed the inside of your thigh, merely a few centimetres away from you soaked panties.

“Tell me what you want baby. I’ll give it to you.” He said planting another soft kiss even closer this time.

You suddenly felt a little embarrassed, you don't think you’d ever begged to get your pussy ate before.

“I want…your tongue on me, fuck please.” You breathed out, hardly able to think straight.

Yoongi put his hands to the hem of your panties silently asking you to raise your hips and you did allowing him to pull them off.

You let out a yelp when Yoongi pushed your thighs further apart so he had a full view of your leaking core.

You let out a low whine of embarrassment trying to close your thighs a little but Yoongi had a strong grip.

“Sorry I’m staring, your pussy is beautiful though…”

You immediately brought your hand up to your face not believing the words coming out of his mouth.

“Yoongi shut up!” You said from behind your hands.

Yoongi laughed a little bringing his head down, you nearly moaned at the feeling of his breath on your core.

“Please.” Was all you whispered out, so beyond desperate for some sort of relief you were clenching around nothing.

Yoongi’s tongue slowly licked up until he started slowly licking at your clit, giving it all his attention.

You moaned, absolutely in bliss at the feeling, but you needed something more.

“Yoongi your fingers please…”

His cock twitched at that, hardening further at your words, did you know what you were doing to him?

He happily obliged, slowly slipping a finger inside you, pumping in and out before adding a second, stretching you out further.

As he kept up his assault on your clit, you didn’t think you’d ever felt an orgasm approach you this fast before, the familiar pressure building in record time.

“Yoongi oh my god – I think – I think I’m gonna come, please don’t stop, please.”

As he listened, knowing you were close he picked up the pace, pumping his fingers faster and sucking on your clit a little bit harsher.

“Fuck!” You half yelled along with a moan, turning your head to the side and closing your eyes as you let your orgasm wash over you, your whole body felt heavy as you came down, the whole time Yoongi’s tongue never left you slowly working you through it.

“Yoongi.” You said, breathing heavily. “Get back up here.”

You turned back as he slowly moved back up so his face was facing yours again a smile on his face.

You placed your hands on either side of his face, feeling like your heart could burst at the sight of the man in front of you, pulling his face to yours so you could kiss him rather than say something stupid.

Yoongi groaned a little as his hard-on brushed against you, he must’ve been in need of some serious relief.

You felt an immediate pulse of fresh pleasure at the thought of him getting hard at the action of eating you out.

“Yoongi…want…you to fuck me.” You said between short kisses.

Yoongi smirked at you.

“Really?” He asked feigning innocence and you honestly could’ve rolled your eyes at his teasing if you weren’t so turned on.

“Yes baby please, want you to fuck me so hard Yoongi and I know your big dick will fill me right up.” You said trying to sound as seductive as possible, you could play this game if he wanted too.

Yoongi just stared for a second as his brain buffered not believing the filth coming from you.

“Fuck.” Was all he said as he began kissing your neck again and this time you felt him fishing his cock out of his underwear.

Lining up at your entrance, he stopped just short of pushing in.

“Tell me how bad you want it baby and I’ll give it to you.”

Fuck he was going to be the death of you.

“Yoongi please, I need you so bad, need you to fill me up…”

And with that, he plunged into you bottoming out immediately.

You gasped at the pressure, your head falling back and your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head.

“Jesus fuck!” You yelled as he continued thrusting at such a relentless pace he had to grab you by the hips to stop your body from moving farther up the bed.

“Tell me what you want baby… harder, faster?” He asked, his breathing laboured as he tried to keep his pace up.

“Fuck yes oh my god I’ll come so fast like this.” You said your voice practically vibrating with how hard he was fucking you.

“Yeah?” He said his hand moving further up your body he stopped just short of your throat eyeing you up.

You had a feeling he was little too nervous to ask what he wanted but you knew just what was on his mind and you loved the idea.

“Yoongi choke me.” You gasped out.

“Please choke me a little, please? It’ll feel so good.”

Yoongi’s hip stuttered a little at your words his eyes widening in shock, he nearly came right there breathing deep, trying to compose himself.

“Yeah? Are you sure?” He asked.

You nodded like a crazy woman. “Yes.” You breathed out, not finding any more energy to speak, you could feel your orgasm coming.

His hand slowly snaked up your body until it was resting at your neck he slowly wrapped his fingers around it, applying light pressure.

“Baby... you need to tell me if it’s too much okay?”

You nodded at him again.

His fingers squeezed a little harder as he began fucking in you again as lightning speed.

You closed your eyes letting him choke and fuck you however he wanted, you were in a state of bliss as the familiar knot in your stomach was so close to snapping.

He didn’t choke you too hard always alternating between some pressured squeezes and releasing again.

“Feels so good.” You said when he eased up his pressure for a while.

“You wouldn’t believe how fucking hot you look like this baby…all spread out for me you’re so dirty baby, tell me... do the guys know what a little slut you are?”

Fuck.

You shook your head no.

“God if they could see you like this I think they would never recover.”

You weren’t sure where it came from but for a moment you pictured your 6 best friends watching you, and it sent you right over the edge.

“Yoongi I’m coming fuck, I’m coming!” You said as one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had tore its way through you.

Your core spasmed uncontrollably as you moaned, bringing Yoongi over the edge with you.

“Jesus christ.” He breathed out as he gathered up some strength to pull out of you and roll over to your side.

You laughed out loud as you turned to face him, unable to think straight you said the first thing that came to mind.

“That black eye still makes you look like a dumbass.”

It was Yoongi’s turn to laugh as you both tried to get your breathing under control.

“Come on, let’s get in the shower.”

You and Yoongi spent the rest of the day lazing around in his bed kissing and laughing, you had even given him a quick blowjob when you’d both gotten a little too handsy once again.

You didn’t think you could feel this way with someone but the absolute ease and comfort you felt being with him was indescribable.

As you both lay in his bed watching Netflix – although there wasn’t much watching – you heard the front door knock.

“Babe it must be the pizza, go open the door while I grab cash so he doesn’t leave.”

“I'm indecent!” You whined only wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

“Go give him a show!” He said winking at you as he went in search of his wallet.

You rolled you eyes getting up anyway not risking the delivery person getting fed up and actually leaving.

As you got to the door you made sure the t-shirt was pulled as far down as it would go.

You opened the door and swung it open “Hi can you wait –“

You froze.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes widened in shock.

You were standing face to face with none other than Jin.

#yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #mine

128 notes · View notes

kpopfromtheblock · 4 years

Text

a/n ⇾ i’m so late but better late than never i always say lmao… this is like partially edited, i’m sorry y’all… i’m so tired, i’ll re-read and fix the mistakes i’ve made later on. thank you all so much for your patience and support. i hope you enjoy part one of LWB 010!

for reference,*this* is what i imagine the villa to look like in this story (the photos of the air b & b do not belong to me. the only reason why i’m adding the link is because i’m terrible at descriptions and want the readers to have a good visual of their settings). also, any text that is shown in ‘Bold/Italics’ throughout the story will represent Y/n’s thoughts.

LIFE WITH BANGTAN | ot7

010

genre ⇾ mature content (swearing, smut is implied), fluff, comedy

pairing ⇾ bts x fem reader, ot7 x fem reader

summary ⇾ two years spent together surely calls for a celebration right? ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY. the boys whisk you away to paradise for the week to celebrate your anniversary!

warning ⇾ talks of kidnapping and murder, slow burn, mature content (the reader and namjoon get a little frisky but no sex… at least not in part one), dirty talk, talks of fellatio and cunnilingus — usual warnings: cringy-ness, swearing

words ⇾ 6,3k

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“No way.” You mumble to yourself as the car you’re in pulls up to one of the largest villas you’ve ever seen. Just from looking at the exterior of this place, you can tell that it was expensive. This couldn’t possibly be the place the boys had rented out for your vacation. There’s no way. This was way too much for just the eight of you and you were only staying for ten days.

“Um, excuse me sir?” You call out to the driver, whose name you had quickly forgotten within the two hour ride from the airport to this castle you’re currently in front of. “Yes Miss?” He answers politely whilst unbuckling his seat belt. “Are you sure this is the right place?” You question, voice riddled with uncertainty. “Of course Miss. This is the address I was instructed to take you to. Please stay seated, I will get the door.” His accent is thick but you are able to make out every word he says.

You enjoy the way the words sound rolling off of his tongue. It’s quite pleasant to hear.

“But this-“ You’re unable to protest because the driver eagerly gets out of the car, jogging around to the opposite side to unlock the backseat door. As soon as the door opens, the extremely hot weather hits you. You had no idea Paris got this hot in the summer time.

You hesitate getting out of the car as it is still cool from the air condition that was just on.

You definitely regret a black hoodie with matching black leggings now…

“Please step out miss,” The driver says with a kind smile. You know that’s just the professional way to say ‘Get the fuck out of my car.’ — so you do, not wanting to hold the man up any longer.

He probably has other people to pick up or maybe you were his last ride and he wanted to get home and retire for the evening, get home to his family... Whatever the case was, you finally decide to step out the car, feet hitting the concrete and the warm weather kisses your face. You instantly hate the feeling. You do enjoy summer, but not when it’s this hot.

“I will get your bags Miss.” You nod and turn to look around.

The place is extremely beautiful from what you can see outside. It’s rustically designed, with bricks, stone and wood. The path leading up to the house is all cobblestones… There’s no way you’d be able to get away with walking around in heels without busting your ass in process.

There is a large archway, made completely of stone. You assume that is where the entrance is.

You pull out your phone and quickly unlock it then go into your contacts... For a few seconds you’re not sure who you should call but then you decide it’d be best to call Taehyung as he is probably the one who picked out this villa… It pretty much has his name written all over it.

The phone rings two times before you hear the base of his sweet voice flow through your ears.

“Hi Darling, have you reached?”

“Kim Taehyung, I’m gonna murder you and the others.” You say, somewhat jokingly.

“Why? What’s wrong? Is everything okay with the house?” He asks you a hundred questions at once. You take few seconds to process everything before responding to him. “Everything is perfect...” You start as you watch the kind man take your duffle bag out and put it on top of your suitcase. He rolls the two up the pathway until he is disappearing behind the stone arch…

You are afraid to move from beside the car, just incase you are in fact, at the wrong place and have to make a quick exit before the owner of the property comes out with a blowtorch to light your ass up for trespassing.

“That’s the not problem.” You continue, there’s a pause on the other end. Tae is waiting for an explanation.

“What’s wrong Y/N? I’m starting to get worried.” Tae says after a few seconds of silence. You suddenly feel bad for making him concerned but you can’t wrap your head around the fact that the boys went out of their way to get a place this fancy for your anniversary.

“This place is way too big and expensive... You guys didn’t have to do this.”

Tae chuckles and shakes his head as if you could see him. “I know we didn’t have to but how often do the eight of us get to go on vacation together?”

He did have a point. You’ve known the boys for five years and have been dating them for two and in those two years of dating, the eight of you have never gotten a chance to go on a vacation without work being involved.

“I guess you’re right.” You start. “But still, isn’t this place a bit too much for the eight of us?”

“I personally think it’s not enough but Hyung wouldn’t let us rent the bigger villa a few blocks down.” Tae sighs and you have to chuckle at him. Tae is definitely Prince High in the land of Maintenance and he has the right to be. He’s extremely humble and has worked hard for everything he has, alongside his members. He deserve to enjoy the finer things in life and if that means spending a large sum of money on a vacation villa for eight then why the fuck not right?

“Okay Miss, you’re all set.” Your driver says as he jogs back over to meet you. “Thank you so much.” You smiled brightly at him. “What time does your flight get into tomorrow?” You ask Tae whilst pressing your phone between your ear and shoulder so that you can rummage through the bag that is draped across your body.

The boys had to take a flight a day later than you as they had a few things to finish up before getting to officially rest. You’d be missing a day with them but you figured you could use that time alone to do a little bit of self care and pampering or maybe a little bit of sightseeing.

“Our flight lands around noon so we should get to the villa around one or two pm.” Taehyung informs you as you pull your wallet out. You hum in response. “Sounds good. I can’t wait for you guys to get here.” You tell Tae as you take the crisp note out of your wallet and hand it over to the driver.

You’re happy that you remembered to convert your dollars into euros before leaving the airport.

The man before you smiles kindly and thanks you before heading back to his vehicle.

“I’m excited too darling,” Taehyung informs you, you can tell by the sound of his voice that there is a smile present on his face and that makes a smile form on your own. You go down the cobblestone path to your new home for the next ten days. A soft sigh leaves your lips as you get closer to the entrance of the villa. You’re relieved to be away from the sun and under the shade of the stone archway.

“Whoa” You mumble to yourself when you see the large glass door and the neon red ‘Exit’ sign beside it.

“I gotta getting going babe. The boys are waiting for me in rehearsal… We’ll call you later” Tae’s voice rings in your ear.

“Okay, I love you.”

“Love you too baby. Talk to you later.”

“Okay.” And with that you pull the phone away from your ear and end the call with Tae. Phone still in hand, you swipe your finger across the screen a few times to get to the massage app. Opening the group chat you have with the boys, you scroll up just a bit to find the access pin to get into the villa.

Once you find it, you take a few steps up to the door and tap on the key pad. It beeps to life and you slowly type in the pin, not wanting to mess up. The key pad light up a neon green, indicating that you put in the correct code. You grab hold of the handle and twist it before pushing the door open. “Oh my god,” Leaves your mouth in a soft gasps as you see the interior of the beautiful home. If you thought outside was gorgeous, inside takes the cake.

Your place would look like a freaking shoe box compared to this.

You close the front door and take off your bag and the hoodie you’re wearing. The cool breeze from the air condition meets your warm skin and you are incredibly thankful to the owner for leaving the AC on.

You decide to take a few minutes exploring the house. Upon entering the house, you are in the living room which is surrounded by stone walls and archways, just like outside. The brown leather furniture compliments the grey tone of the the walls. Walking further into the house, you step into the kitchen. It’s an open space, with a large window and a rustic wooden table in the center. Moving on, theres a common area with a large cherry wood piano taking up space in the corner. The wall across from the piano has a huge ceiling to floor photo of some musician you’ve never heard of.

Exploring more of the house, you discover that there is a second living room complete with a huge ass fire place and massive tv, a dining room that seats eight, five bedrooms and five full bathrooms. There’s a recreational area outside complete with a grill, benches and a huge pool. A second recreational area complete with a pool table and to top it all off, a gorgeous cement spiral staircase leading up to the second floor.

“This place is a fucking dream.” You think out loud, shaking your head is disbelief. You can’t even imagine how many numbers are on the price tag for a place like this. You don’t even want to think about how much money the boys spent to book it…

Going back to the front door, you grab your suitcase and pull it down the hall towards the bedrooms. There are three of them upstairs and two on the second floor. You’re sure you’ll be room hopping or maybe even sharing one room with all the guys so it doesn’t really matter what room you’re in but you do need somewhere to keep your things while you’re there… So, you go for the first room you see. It’s just as gorgeous as the rest of the house and maybe a little smaller than some of the other rooms in the villa but you don’t mind… It’s designed with stone walls, just like the living room, a queen sized bed facing a HUGE window that basically takes up the entire wall. Theres a small circular table and chair placed snuggly in the corner and a few pieces of artwork on the wall.

It’s perfect for you.

You pull your suitcase into the room and lay it flat on the floor. Pulling your phone out your back pocket, you sit on the floor with crossed legs. Opening up the camera on your phone, you decided to take a quick selfie.

You hold the camera up and stretch your hand out to get the perfect angle for the photo. You don’t look your best after a day full of traveling but you smile anyways. Eyes scrunched closed and two fingers up in a peace sign up, you snapped the picture. You don’t even take a second look at it before going into the family group chat. You select the photo then type out a message under it before hitting send.

From You

1 Attachment

hiiiii, not sure if Tae told the rest of you but i made it to the villa! its absolutely gorgeous and i can’t wait for you all to get here 🥺 love y’all!

After the message has been delivered, you start unpacking. First you pull out all your skincare, beauty and body products so that you can bring them into the bathroom. Next you take out all the little dresses and flowy tops you brought with you to hang in the closet. You take out your hats and accessories and neatly arrange them on the little table in the corner. Last is your shoes. A lot of sneakers and flat sandals because comfort is key and a few pairs of your favorite heels that go with everything. You line your shoes up against the wall in the closet. There’s no dresser in the room so you decide to keep your socks and undergarments in the suitcase before pulling your suitcase into the closet so that it is out of the way.

When you’re done with unpacking, you go into the bathroom to take a shower. You need to wash your hair and wash the flight off of you.

Stepping into the large shower, you immediately sigh when the water hits you. You start by washing your hair, taking time to let the soap lather up and seep into your roots. You could almost fall asleep from how good your fingers feel massaging your scalp.

When you’re done with your hair, you move on to washing your body. You let the warm water smooth your aching muscles. It takes you a total of thirty minutes to finish up your shower.

You push open the shower door and grab the nearest towel off the shelf. You quickly shake the cloth through your damp hair before tossing it in the hamper. You then decide to work on your skincare. That routine takes you about fifteen minutes. That’s enough time for your body to air dry because you are too lazy to pat yourself dry with a towel.

In the middle of the last step of your skincare regimen, you hear what sounds like the doorbell ring. The sound startles you, causing you to yelp. “What the fuck?” You think out loud. It rings again and you quickly pat the rest of your moisturizer into your face before grabbing your silk robe off the back of the bathroom door. You wrap yourself up in it before exiting the bathroom.

Extremely confused, you walk out your room and towards the front door. The closer you get to the front door, the more you’re able to see someone standing on the other side of the frosted glass.

You can’t make out who is it but there is definitely someone there. The doorbell rings again, causing you to jump for a second time. “Hello?” You say, putting your hand on the knob as you wait patiently for a response but it never comes.

The person on the other end lifts their hand up to knock this time. “Who is it?” You ask again, feeling like your heart is about to drop down to your stomach from

how nervous you are...

Who in the hell could be showing up to your secluded air b and b at six pm in the evening?

The knock on the door comes again, a little louder this time. “Who is it?” You ask for the second time, frustration evident in you voice. You’ve watched too many foreign hostage movies to know that the minute you open that door, someone in a mask is going to snatch you up and take you away.

You look to your left and grab the umbrella from the bucket beside the door... It’s not much but the end is pointy and if you push it hard enough, you’re sure you’ll be able to pierce through the skin of whoever is on the other side of the door. You steady your hand on the knob, ready to open it but you halt when the person on the other side finally speaks....

“Kitten, please open the door. It’s hot as fuck out here.”

You’d know that voice anywhere. Quickly pulling the door open, you are both delighted and relieved to see your boyfriend Yoongi, dressed in all black much like you were earlier. His gummy smile makes an appearance and your heart flutters. He looks down, taking notice to the umbrella in your hand before looking back up at you and raising a questionable eyebrow. “I thought you were a murderer.” You told

him and he chuckles. “Come here.” He says before, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. You wrap your arms around his neck, umbrella still in hand.

“I thought you guys wouldn’t be here until tomorrow.” You say, pulling away from Yoongi to look at his face. “We wanted to surprise you.” He tells you and you smile before leaning forward to press a kiss to his soft lips.

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to escalate. You immediately melt in Yoongi’s arms. He holds you close to him as his tongue desperately licks at your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You smile against his mouth before parting your lips. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his warm tongue into your mouth. “Mmm” He moans against you. Your tongues caress each other’s, causing few moans of your own to fall past your lip.

“We haven’t even been here a full hour yet and Hyung is already hogging her.” You pull alway from Yoongi against his wishes to find a very pouty Jungkook staring at the two of you. You chuckle then turn back to Yoongi and peck his lips once more before moving yourself out of his grip. You walk over to your big baby and lean up to kiss his next. “I miss you Kookie.” You tell him truthfully and he smiles. “I missed you more.” He says before kissing you again.

“Um excuse me, can I get a little help please?” Taehyung huffs out. You look away from Jungkook to see poor Taehyung struggling up the cobblestone path with two large suitcases. “No.” Yoongi quickly says. “No one told you to bring a hundred bags. We’re only here for ten days.” He adds and you laugh. You walk over to Tae and take a suitcases from him. “Thank you Darling,” He says sweetly. “I can always count on you.” He continues, speaking loud enough for the other members to hear. You watch Yoongi ignore him and walk into the villa, Jungkook following closely behind.

“Wow!” Jungkook says excitedly, upon entering the home.

Turning your attrntion back to Tae, you begin pulling his suitcase along. It’s extremely heavy but you use all the strength you have to get it up the small steps. “Tae, what the hell? What’s in here?” You struggle to get the words out.

“Is it too heavy for you? I’ll take it.”

“No, no, it’s fine I can do it but what’s in here?”

“My shoes.”

You stop dead in your tracks, to look up at the handsome boy. “Seriously?” You question him in disbelief. “It’s good to have options baby.” He says nonchalantly. You laugh and shake your head, finishing your journey up the steps and into the villa.

Tae comes inside after you and his mouth drops in awe at the beauty of your home for the next week. “This is better than the pictures online.” Tae says as he pushes his suitcase to the side and runs off to explore the house.

Yoongi has already taken up space on the couch, his eyes closed and hand placed over his stomach as he lays across the cushions.

Jungkook is in the kitchen unloading his bag of snacks.

You realize that those two are probably done helping with the luggage so you go back outside to give a hand.

As you step towards the door, you come face to face with the one and only Kim Seokjin. He smiles brightly at you. “Hi Princess!” He greets you excitedly. “Hello Handsome.” You give his lips a quick kiss before stepping aside to let him in. “Why do you have an umbrella?” He questions you and you look down at your hand. You totally forgot you were holding it. “Oh,” You says before putting it back in the basket it belongs in. “Umm, funny story. I’ll tell you about it later.” You say in amusement. “I look forward to it.” He says, as he struts back over to you and wraps you in a tight bear hug. Your face is pressed to his chest and you silently inhale, taking comfort in his scent.

“Are you sniffing me?”

‘He caught me.’ You think to yourself.

“What? No.. That��s weird.”

“It’s okay…” Jin tells you. “If I were you, I’d sniff me too.” He says smugly and you instantly roll your eyes. “Ugh!” You groan trying to feign annoyance but the smirk on your face tells a different story. You try to push yourself out of Jin’s grip but he just holds you tighter, laughing at your attempt to escape. “Where are you going?” Jin ask, snuggling closer to you.

“I’m going to help with the rest of bags.”

“It’s okay Angel,” You hear Hobi’s voice from behind you. You turn around as much as you can whilst still Jin’s grip. Hoseok comes into view, looking as handsome as always, Followed by the equally handsome Park Jimin, strutting in a pair of pink tinted sunglasses.

“Jimin and I got the last of them.” He informs you as he drops his duffel bag off his shoulder. “Hi Guys!” You say excitedly before turning you head to look back up at Jin.

“Babe, you gotta let me go now...”

“And why is that?”

“We’ve been hugging for at least five minutes, I wanna hug Hobi and Jimin too.”

“Yeah, we missed her too Hyung,” Hobi says, making his way over to the two of you. “I suppose... But first,” Jin pokes out his lips out, indicating that he wants a kiss from you. You first reaction is to laugh at him...

“You big baby...” You mumble before standing on your toes to peck his lips once. Of course one kiss is not enough for him, so he pecks your lips two more times. He doesn’t get to go for a third kiss because Hoseok is pulling you out of the older man’s grip and into his arms for a hug. He picks you up off the floor and you squeal.

In an instant, Hobi is smothering your face in kisses, ending each one with an exaggerated ‘Mauh!’

“Hobert Jung, put me down. My robe is riding up.” You say through fits of giggles.

Taehyung and Jimin emerge from the kitchen just as the words leave your mouth. “You’ve been naked under there this whole time?” Tae says cheekily. “Obviously, I’m surprise that wasn’t the first thing you noticed.” Jungkook responses for you.

“So what? It’s not that we haven’t seen you naked before.” Hobi states, finally putting you back down. As soon as your feet hit the floor, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist. You know they belong to Jimin. You can tell just by the feeling of his chest against your back. You lean into his touch as he places a single kiss on your check from behind. “I missed you.” He says sweetly and you smile at the sound of his honey-like voice in your ear.

“I missed you too.. All of you, I’m so happy you guys are here.”

“We’re happy we’re here too.” Jin responses as he walks over to the couch Yoongi is laying on. He takes a seat at the end of it, putting Yoongi’s legs on his lap. Yoongi has already fallen asleep, eyes closed and lips parted as he breathes peaceful.

“Now the eight of us can really get this party started!” Jungkook exclaims while bouncing side to side enthusiastically.

“Speaking of the eight of us, where is Joon?” You question, you realize he’s the only one you haven’t seen yet. “He’s upstairs, I think.” Taehyung informs you, ignoring the other seats in the living room so that he can plop down on the floor in front of the coffee table. “He snuck right past me.” You say, a pout evident on you face.

“Well Hyung was in you face the entire time and I think Namjoon Hyung was on the phone with Manager Sejin.” Jimin tells you, his arms still securely wrapped around you.

“He should be off by now, why don’t you go see.” Jin suggest and you nod your head in agreement. “We should pick rooms now anyways then we’ll eat.” He adds.

“What should we eat? I didn’t get a chance to go to the market.”

“That’s okay Princess, we saw one in town on our way in. We can stop there.” Jin explains and once again, you nod. “Okay, I’ll go check on Joon.” You say, slipping out of Jimin’s arms. You already miss the comfort of his body against your but it’s fine. You’ll be wrapped up in him again at some point during this trip.

You make your way over to the spiral staircase and walk up the stairs in search of Namjoon.

Upon reaching the top step, you can hear the faint sound of his voice.

He’s still on the phone.

The further you get down the hall, the louder his deep voice escapes through bedroom door.

“We’ll be okay, we have GPS.” You hear Namjoon say. You knock lightly on the door before poking your head in to let him know its you. A smile forms on your face when you see the sight of your handsome man sitting on the edge of the bed, looking oh so delectable in a pair of baggy tan shorts and a cream colored Fear Of God t-shirt that you could’ve sworn you saw on Yoongi once but maybe not?

The glasses on Joon’s face raise as his check puff up from smiling at you. You nearly swoon at sight of his dimples.

With one hand pressing his phone up to his ear Namjoon uses his other hand to motion you over to him. “C’mere,” He mouths to you then pats on his thighs indicating that he wants you to sit on them.

You don’t hesitate, happily taking a few small steps across the floor until you’re in front of him. Joon quickly wraps his free hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You straddle his lap, knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips. The little robe you’re wearing raises up, exposing more of your thighs as you make yourself comfortable on Joon’s lap. You try to ignore the feel of your bare core resting on top of the soft cotton of his sweatpants but it’s a lot harder to do than you’d like to admit.

The man beneath you brings his hand to rest on your soft skin and you drape your arms over his shoulders.

“Yes, okay...” Namjoon responses to whoever is on the other line, he watches you as your hand comes forward to fiddle with the silver chain around his neck. While you’re in your own world, suddenly fascinated by his jewelry, Namjoon takes the time to admire you. His eyes scan over the features of your face... You look different… well-rested, happier. You’re radiant and glowing and he loves to see it.

You’re too busy admiring the necklace to notice his eyes on you. “There,” You say patting your fingers against his neckline where the chain lays. When you finally look up, the man’s eyes are already on you.

Slightly thrown off by his stare, you ask “What?” your voice comes out in a whisper, you don’t want to interrupt his conversation but you also want him to hear you and he does. Namjoon shakes his head in response, the smile never leaving his face.

“Nothing, you look pretty.” he confesses and you blush, a small smirk forming on your lips. You lean forward to place a single kiss on his plump lips before pulling away. Joon leans into you, chasing your lips for another one. You chuckle at his eagerness... You couldn’t resist him, even if you tried.

You press your lips against his again, this time with more purpose. A soft moan ripples from Joon’s throat at the feeling of his lips on yours again. He pulls back from your lips to speak. “I’m fine Hyung.” He says to the person on the line. Now, that you’re closer to him, you’re able to confirm the sound of Manager Sejin’s voice on the other end of the receiver. A devious smirk forms on your mouth as you think of the time that Joon had decided to eat you out whilst you were on a very important call with your boss. Granted, you didn’t stop but still... You would love to pay him back for the time he spent down on his knees in front of you.

You kiss Namjoon again and he wraps his arm back around your waist, pulling you so close that your chests are touching. You’re sure he can feel the way your nipples have harden through the thin material of what you’re wearing.

Both your hands come up to softly rest on either side of his head, holding his face in place so you can take advantage of his mouth. You tilt your head to the side and begin sucking on his bottom lip. His groan is muffle by you gently pushing your tongue into his warm mouth. He welcomes the sensation of your wet muscle against his.

You taste so sweet to him, always so always.

As your tongue begin swirling around his, you realize that your hips have been rocking back and forth against Joon’s lap. Your bare cunt, rubbing ever so lightly against his clothed cock.

‘When did I start grinding on this man’s dick?’ You think to yourself.

As surprised as you were about your hips having a mind of their own, you don’t stop them from grinding and your mouth doesn’t stop moving either. You decide to drag your lips from his mouth to his jaw line. You begin peppering kisses there before bringing your mouth further down, stopping to give special attention to the spot on his neck that you know drives him crazy. “Y-yes… I’m listening Hyung…” Joon stutters out and you smirk against his skin. He grabs hold of your hips and for a minute you think he’s going to stop you from grinding against him but he doesn’t.

Instead he pushes you down further, pushing your core against the bulge in his sweatpants. At the feeling of Namjoon’s dick against you, you fight back the moan that is creeping up the back of your throat. You are not here for you, you’re here to make him feel good.

Pulling yourself away from his neck after leaving a few bruises on either side, you take a good look at his face. His eyes are low and they gaze at you filled with desire, his lips are slightly swollen, you assume from biting them when you weren’t looking.

He’s so fucking fine.

You can’t stop yourself from sliding your hands up his shirt. Your fingers caress the ripples against his stomach. You’ve always loved Joon’s body but since going back on tour, he’s been working out more, defining his muscles and chiseling out his usually soft features... You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the results.

“What are you doing?” Namjoon whispers his question after having moved the phone away from his ear briefly. “Me?” You ask innocently, fluttering your eyelashes. “Nothing...” You say, voice trailing off before you use both hands, still under Joon’s shirt to push him back on the bed softly. He huffs as his back hits to soft comforter. You smile before leaning back down to kiss him once again.

The kiss is more heated than the last time, all tongue and teeth. Your hips start to move on their own for the second time in the span of ten minutes. This time you can feel your wetness spreading across your pussy lips as Namjoon’s cock rubs between your folds. His hand finally slip under your robe and he grabs a hand full of your ass cheek, using it to push you down hard against him. You gasps softly against his mouth before sitting up on top of him, both hands on his chest.

There is a sneaky smirk present on Joon’s lips. “You’re not wearing any panties?” He mouths to you with a brow raised and you shake your head, seductively bitting your lip. “I’m not wearing anything at all.” You correct him. You thought it was impossible for his eyes to get any darker but boy were you wrong. The way he looks at you with pure unadulterated lust is out of this world.

You lean back down to kiss him, never stopping the rotation of your hips. Joon is solid underneath you, hard as a rock and it feels so good to be pressed up against him like this.

“Uh, I’m-...” Namjoon tries to speak with his mouth against your lips but it sounds muffle... You pull back again, just enough to give him room to talk to his manager.

“Hyung, can I call you back?” He says as you sit up, placing your hands on his firm chest. His shirt has risen up, exposing the skin of his stomach and the happy trail that leads to gold. You so desperately want to kiss him there but the hold he still has on your ass and the look in his eyes keep you in place. “Yeah, I’m fine... I just need to take care of something real quick.” He says, the low bass of his voice causes your abdomen to tighten.

‘Yes, please take care of it,’ is what you want to say but you keep your mouth shut.

“I will hyung. Talk to you later.” Namjoon hurriedly ends the phone calls then tosses his phone down on the bed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, now with his full attention on you. “Nothing...” You say, you faux innocent look you’ve perfect over the years doesn’t fool Joon. He sits up, using one hand to support his weight while the other is still on your ass, gently messaging it.

“Why are you giving me a heard time? I’m sure Sejin Hyung heard you.”

You shrug, deciding to focus on something else besides the look on Namjoon’s face.

“Isn’t that part of the fun?”

“You bad girl, couldn’t you wait until I got off the phone?”

“I guess but it would’ve been hard when you were sitting here looking so… Fuckable...” Joon chuckles, shaking his head at you. His pushes a strand of loose hair out of your face. “What will I do with you?” He asks, it’s a rhetorical questions, you know but you decide to answer it anyways.

“Let me suck you off.”

“Oh baby girl,” Joon starts, pulling you closer to him, so that his lips hover an inch or two away from your own. “How could I ever say no to that?” He starts. “But first,” He continues but before you can respond he is flipping you on to your back, his body in between your legs. “Would you mind if I just….” He begins slowly pulling at the tie in front of your robe.

“Take this off…”

“Joon, I..-“

“I don’t think so.” The two of you hear the sound of Jin’s voice. Turning your heads to the door in unison, you see the older man standing against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

“How long have you been standing there?” Namjoon asks with an expression mixed somewhere between slightly confused and slightly embarrassed.

“I walked in on the ‘let me suck you off.’ part.” Your face flushes at having being caught. No matter how comfortable you are with your sexuality or with your boyfriends, being caught talking dirty will always be just a little bit embarrassing to you. Especially since you were never someone who was good at it or so you thought... Things changed when the boys came into your life.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You finally speak

up.

“I don’t know... Curiosity, I guess.” Jin shrugs. “Anyways, there will be no sucking off anyone in this house, not until after dinner.” He explains and you have to giggle at his choice of words.

“Ah but Hyung we haven’t seen her in ages.” Namjoon whines, still on top of you.

“It’s only been a month Namjoonie.” Jin protest.

“A month too long... Don’t you miss having her mouth on you?” He says. “Of course I do,” Jin confesses. “Which is why we, as in all of us should wait until later. Why should you have her first?” Jin continues and you sigh, rolling your eyes at the conversation the two are having.

“First of all, she is laying right here. Don’t I get a say in who I get to sleep with first?” You say as you begin to sit up, forcing Namjoon to remove himself from between your legs, you’re quick to push your robe down, not wanting to expose you wet cunt to world right now

“You know you do Princess. It’s your say or no say at all but I just thought since the seven of us haven’t seen you in a month…”

“Hmm,” You hum in response. “Now I have to think about it.” Your tone is playful as you get up off the bed, smoothing down the silk material your body is wrapped in. You retie the strings, so they don’t come loose as you walk past Namjoon’s pouty face and over to Jin, patting his chest. “I’ll be in charge during this trip... Especially when it comes to my body.” You tell him before leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Where are you going?” Joon asks, as you step out of the room. “It’s about time I put some panties on.” You say before going back downstairs to finally get dressed…

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts fluff

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macklives · 4 years

Text

session 92 end (bye 413...)

this session was so long but so fucking hectic what the fuck

im going to try and slim it down to its bare essentials rather than go on a full rant because im pretty sure i want to make a post later on about vriska’s characterisation (not anything about me liking her/disliking her, just an analyse on her life really, so it wont be too bias because thats not the point of an analysis. i also want to do one on aradia, been meaning to for a while... hmm... damn i havent done much analogies lately, and i THINK the last long post on a character i made was about davesprite??? so its been a fucking while. that being said, ill leave a lot of details out for this end of session notes so i dont just repeat myself later on. rather will keep to plot points here and then make character points in another)

alright

first we had a page or two where aradia confided in nepeta about her being dead which means nepeta is the only one to know this revelation. im pretty sure aradia confided because there was no other way around it, since nepeta was her server player, so it was inevitable. either way, aradia still put her trust in nep, which means, if you think about it, nobody else knows and nobody else ever will. and considering aradia asked nep to keep it a secret, it probably wont get explored by others until MAYBE later on, whenever its plot relevant, so everyone will be in the dark about it for a while which ill have to remember for future dialogue and scenes with aradia in them

then we met vriska

which, yes, is a meme. i may not have been on a lot of fandom platforms, but you cant escape some of the stuff that goes around the internet. even if you dont know undertale, im pretty sure you know of sans. or komaeda if you have/havent seen danganronpa. its just.. the memes, ya know? ive heard from many sources of the “vriska did nothing wrong” quote (even through mbmbam which??? WHAT) but since i didnt even know what it meant, i never explored it so then i never knew it was a homestuck thing. imagine my surprise...... i think even at the time, i wouldnt have known what homestuck was either honestly so it wouldnt even matter. i only recently learned about the fandom.... uhh, maybe half a year ago??? yeah, august, so my knowledge was slim but vriska is a thing ive heard before, which still shocks me

goddammit

anyways back to her

so her intro was something, we pretty much found out she likes DnD (a FANATIC in fact) and feeds her lusus the flesh of living trolls. which is fucked up. but i wont get too much into detail about that until i make a post about her life on alternia and the consequences of such. or maybe just alternia in general...?? or *both* heheheh but i feel i need more information before i go off on a tangent about that

then we met??? white text dude?? who is a major asshole but an asshole with insults that hURted, to think i felt bad for VRISKA when that happened. woah.

i said before, but... karkat, he cant really hit deep because his insults are just HIM and his way to express himself. like some people find it natural to just go “FUCK YOU” to show emphasis on a point, and thats just karkats way. he may do it so aggressively that it takes you a second to realize what he said, but usually i dont take anything to heart whenever he spurts out some insults. ive progressed to the point where whatever he says, is just “karkat” and not him trying to be actively mean. rather, its now funny whenever he does say anything SOMEWHAT creative, dude has an imagination that goes on for miles

but vriska?? she IS trying to be a bully, you can tell. but i feel theres something much more to that. like shes trying to prove herself and her “blueblooded” demeanours or whatever the hierarchy is. she doesnt want to show emotions so she makes herself a barrier by being mean is what i can gather from her conversation with kanaya. im pretty sure youre not supposed to understand her until its pointed out and rather see her as an “antagonist” at first, but yeah, her insults are more pitiful than anything and i also cant take her too seriously. i may not like her as a person but her character is interesting because you cant always have the goodie two shoes as the protags. it doesnt diversify the characterisation so i like vriska as someone who makes the plot work and it becomes more interesting since you have someone that makes it harder for the main crew to progress. a happy-go-lucky adventure with no trouble and no turnabouts would be boring in a way. so having a character like vriska, or like this new white text guy, it makes you stop for a second and realize oh shit okay, here’s where shit CAN go wrong and WHY. and i do especially like it when these bastards of characters somehow have more depth than being the “bastard characters”. kinda humanizes them in a way. doesnt mean you have to LIKE them continuously, but theyre humans (trolls whatever) in the end and every person has their own story whether its for better or for worse

for example, i like her being placed into the story, along with white text, by how its all leading to this “accident” and is slowly showing us hints on what happened, but in the end, it wont be until later that we know the full story. even if it was in the past, it apparently is very vital to the plot and shapes how the characters act in the future, so important aspects like that are to look out for. and usually they only occur when theres been some trouble within friend dynamics. so without these bastard of characters, plot wouldnt grow AS strong and i often keep that in mind when i explore a story.

anyways, I HAD A POINT TO THIS: so vriska and karkat are characters who are yes, mean, but it seems to be their personality, and the way they either show emotions and convey feelings (karkat) or make a barrier so they DONT show emotions to produce vulnerability (vriska), white text guy seems to mostly be out to be an asshole. he told vriska she was useless to sum it up but im not too sure if this is one of those “first dialogue” to mould out a bias opinion before we even get to the character themselves, but judging by how vriska and karkat played out, he surely means something bad and i dont know how to explain it. but i cannot base anything off from one piece of dialogue. i dont even know what else to call him other than white text guy so...... ill just leave that out for now, until we finally get his introduction

though, i do wish to mention, and will expand on, im not wrong when i say karkat and vriska are similar but in different context. sorry if youre favourite is karkat and you dont like vriska, or vice versa, but uhhhh their introductions are so similar its uncanny and the way they’re portrayed is the same except one is more on crack about the meddling, while the other is angry about the meddling. similar to how it was with karkat, we were introduced to vriska talking with someone we knew (tavros) whom she obviously didnt like, so obviously, from her point of view, she wanted to be menacing. like how karkat was menacing to jade because she wouldnt listen to his point... he got angry, so he lashed out. but us, the readers, didnt know that. we thought “oh god its this asshole” until we made it further in the story and started to warm up to karkat. it may not be the same with vriska, she may be a bully regardless, but you cannot tell me we moulded a bias towards her character as we did when we first read karkat. theyre both truly mean to other people, maybe both for different reasons, but i do want to point out the similarities and not leave that out. im pretty sure andrew basically gave us a conversation that formed our opinion of a character right off the bat rather than go into depth of WHY they did it, and how they are naturally without the conditions of the game. which, you can also see with vriska when she conversed with kanaya. andrew started off with a character who only appears to speak once, and makes you judge them from first appearance alone, without any explanation as to why they said what they said and how they are with other characters, let says. so you assume they were simply a rude character. now look how karkat turned out. so im guessing in homestuck, the first impression should never be the opinion you stick with until MAYBE 5 more conversations with that character (each one different)

OKAY done with the vriska introduction, now to slutquius

yes, hes kinda weird, i have stated that many times. i have no idea what to say about him other than he likes porn, he likes centaur dick which just so happens to be his lusus as well and if that isnt a red flag idk what is

he also likes his lusus milk, right from the udders of his guardian

fun times, fun times

my opinion of equius kinda.. differs. which i should really put in place the “dont judge by first impression” rule, because at first i thought he was rude with, then i thought he was hhh okay, because i understood why he was being so protective over nepeta and her team placement, since the people she was going to play with WERE dangerous. but if you think about it, both sides will probably put you in danger. it just depends on which ones you confide in more to protect your back rather than those which would cause trouble on purpose, in my HONEST opinion. so equius was a little overdramatic on that part, but i got what he meant. he was on the blue team and he didnt want to leave nepeta alone without him on the red. but then this session happened. and he went back to being weird again because of the whole porn thing, especially being so open about it like dude chill youre 13. but the thing is, then i felt bad for him because hes basically touch starved. to say that he could break anything he touches, i doubt people would go up to him for hugs. in fear they would be crushed to death by a simple hug. so im guessing hes rather lonely and doesnt really know how to interact because of this. so i felt sad that he had to live a life where he needs to be careful of everything he touches so it doesnt break randomly. see? poor dude. but then things got weird. and im pretty sure hes a masochist. so my opinion on equius is a fucking cosine graph

which brings us to the final point:

gamzee and equius’ conversation

i dont even know.....like.........gamzee was unaware that equius was using him for his own power play roleplay, right? gamzee knew it was a roleplay but it had had some.. idk.... obvious sexual implications? and i bet gamzee didnt really know that? he thought they were only venting out through a simple roleplay and trying to get closer because he originally thought equius hated him, considering equius flat out said “i hate you” and gamzee went “you tell me everyday and im okay with that” so.. gamzee probably wanted only to get closer to equius so he helped out his little problem which.. thats so sweet but i feel bad he was coerced into something he didnt get, especially since he was innocent enough to go along without knowing equius’ true gain

anyways, equius was getting off with the hierarchy thing. considering he’s “lower” than gamzee, and gamzee is surprisingly ...high on the spectrum??? so equius wanted gamzee to boss him around, because it felt only natural to him since he’s the “inferior one” and gamzee is The Big Man. like i get that, but it was written in a way that was so uncomfortable, that i wish i didnt. equius is just a weird character... hes not BAD per say, but hes... hes something alright

but im really liking gamzee. the two things which struck me in that one conversation, was the “i dont get why we should dictate people by the colour of their blood, i just see people as people” piece of dialogue and “i cant go around pleasing just everything so its alright if you hate me”

thats... so good, idk. i really liked that. i also really liked when kanaya said “youre dangerous but dangerous people are needed and are important because it shapes you” like <33 my fucking heart

god homestuck may be a tad on the weird side with some of its characters but it surely knows how to create great lines of dialogue

and that concludes the long 4 hour session i did, hope you all enjoyed it

with that, i rest

#homestuck #homestuck liveblog #hs92 #hs92 end #i wrote more than i should have but i had a lot to say #just you wait for those analogy/analysis posts

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witchcraft-in-wonderland · 4 years

Text

Peculiars (Pt.1)

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

Patton Boleyn was a special child, not necessarily special in the way most would describe. He was smart, yes, but he was average smart. He was skilled in things like singing art and cooking, but not profesionally.

Looking at Patton most would assume he was completely ordinary, and he was for the most part.

But Patton could do things most humans couldnt. Most people would watch him sitting in fields and wading through lakes and rivers and say it was just him being a normal energetic child.

Patton's parents knew better, they saw the way the flowers moved to face their son, and the way the lake seemed to become empty in the spots Patton swam in.

Patton's father said they would have to keep him inside for his safety, his parent said that Patton's gift was one to be nurtured, not locked away from the rest of the world.

Patton hated the days they would argue. The way his father's eyes would narrow as he yelled at his spouse over a petty incident of a flower growing quicker than it should in the school yard. The way his parent's hand clutched the nearby table as they struggled not to raise their voice at their husband.

The day Patton asked to go to the pool was the last straw. His father had panicked, words were exchanged that Patton wouldnt forget for years. So Patton and his parent had packed up their things and left. Patton found out later that they hadnt been happy in the marriage with his father either way, so Patton was glad both of them had escaped.

That was how the first nine years of Patton's life had gone, and the next five had been full of Patton hiding his gift from everyone except his parent.

They had the most vibrant garden in the neighborhood, and a little pond with a small waterfall in the backyard. Patton would watch the koi swim through the pond, manipulating the water to small bubbles occasionally so he could lift the fish out of the pond without hurting them. He had to stop doing that when the neighbor tried to catch it on camera and call the police.

Patton didn't mind having to hide, but sometimes it hurt, he felt wrong, he wanted to run around in lakes and fields like he used to, wanted to watch the water ripple under his hands, and flowers bloom where he walked. But it wasnt safe anymore, people were scared, they wouldnt trust someone like him.

Today felt different, he'd woken up same as usual, to his parent's voice calling him down for breakfast, their soft brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. It was almost identical to his own, only a little darker, and a lot less healthy from all their years of dying it as a teenager, they'd told Patton that if he ever wanted to dye his hair he would have to wait a while between sessions so it wouldnt fall out.

Then he'd gone to school and had a perfectly ordinary day, he'd done well in his classes, he talked to other students, and he hadnt caused a single flower to bloom or ripple in a puddle of water.

He was beginning to think that the feeling he'd had this morning was just nerves, until he walked home to find his parent on the front porch with a woman who had white hair with streaks of pink and blue. The woman was smiling and talking to his parent, who's face was one of shocked Awe and silence.

"Patton! There you are!" His parent threw their arms around him.

"What's going on? Who's this?" Patton put his hands in his pockets, an expression of concern on his face.

"Mrs. Hera Raven, she runs a school for kids like you," Patton's jaw clenched.

"You're not sending me away are you? I haven't done anything wrong!" Patton stepped back, he'd almost tripped into the street before his parent caught his arm, their deep blue eyes were full of a mix of sorrow and understanding.

"No one is saying you've done anything wrong dear, but people with your talents arent safe out here, Mx. Boleyn has agreed to let me take the two of you somewhere safer," Mrs. Raven was smiling, Patton noticed her lipstick was an odd blood-red color. Patton looked between the two adults, the confusion in his face only becoming more pronounced.

Mrs. Raven's face shifted suddenly to one of fear, "we need to leave, quickly, follow me," she gestured to a car.

A few minutes of driving later they had come upon a collection of oddly shaped rocks, and disappeared through the center of them.

"Now hurry up hurry up, we'll be safe once we're at the school," Mrs. Raven said, ushering them through the woods. Eventually they came upon a large building, it was made of bricks and stone, and the brick was painted black.

"Can someone please tell me what's going on?" Patton said, fidgeting with his clothes.

Mrs. Raven looked around for a few seconds, Patton noticed that, rather than both her eyes being the bright green he thought they were, one was a striking yellow color.

"Patton, you are what we call a peculiar child, it's a recessive gene in families that manifests in, as you might call them, supernatural abilities in children," she said.

"You mean theres more kids that can do what I can?" Patton said.

"Well, not exactly what you can do, they all have their own abilities, you can meet more of them here," Mrs. Raven said.

"Oh, and the main rule, now that you're here, you cant leave, if you leave the loop you will be in danger once it resets," Patton opened his mouth to ask another question.

"Loops are rewind in time created by ymbrenes like myself, they are used to protect peculiar children such as yourself, some of the children within this loop have been here for nearly one hundred years, if they were to leave, they would age until-" Patton's parent covered his ears.

"So what about Bon?" Patton asked, looking up at them.

"The same rule applies to humans, typically parents who accompany their children to the school become members of staff, it's actually quite good for the children to have multiple parental figures," Mrs. Raven said with a grin.

"Patton, I'm gonna let you go make friends while I go with Mrs. Raven ok?" Bon smiled, running their hand through Patton's hair.

"Ok Bon," Patton said. He watched the two adults leave before finally walking into the main portion of the courtyard. There were dozens of children chasing each other and playing around, and adults talking to each other on the sidelines while watching their children.

"Watch out!" Patton barely had time to react before a basketball came hurling it's way across the garden, a tree branch curled it's way around the object just before it made contact with his face.

"Wooooaaaahhh! Awesome!" Patton moved the tree back into the ground, picking the basketball up and turning on the direction of the voice. A boy that looked a year or two older than him, with red eyes and the wisp of a mustache, was smiling brightly at him.

"So you can make trees huh? That's cool," he said as he took the basketball out of Patton's hands.

"I can control water to," Patton whispered, shuffling his feet in the grass.

"Remus! Who's that!" Another boy ran over to them, this one had bright green eyes and a mass of red hair.

"New kid, he makes trees," Remus said with a grin.

"Well come on, it's your turn," said the boy.

"Can we call it a tie for today, I wanna show him around," said Remus. The other boy nodded and ran off to a group of five other boys.

"Well, I'm Remus Duke-Prince, and I can reanimate the dead," Remus said. Patton blinked a few times while trying to process this, earning a laugh from the boy.

"Patton Boleyn, I can manipulate earth and water, which I guess are kind of similar since they both make up the actual planet anyways," Patton mumbled, tapping his fingers together.

"Boleyn? Like as in beheaded Anne Boleyn?" Remus said. Patton nodded and flinched slightly as Remus let out a loud howl of laughter.

"Come on- let me introduce you to my favorite people here," Remus said, grabbing Patton's arm and running over to the group of six.

"Everyone, this is Patton, Patton, this is Roman, Logan, Virgil, Janus, Emile, and Remy," Remus said, pointing at each of the boys in turn.

"Roman Prince-Duke, yes, I'm related to the rat," Roman said, picking up a rock and holding it out in front of Patton. Patton was about to take it from his hand before Roman closed his fingers around it, when he opened them again a light blue gemstone had taken its place.

"He makes rocks boring," Remus said, laughing. Roman let out an annoyed huff before fixing the gem into a silver necklace and clasping it around Patton's neck.

"Logan Mercedes," said the boy next to Roman, he had fluffy brown hair that seemed pushed to one side of his head.

"I can breath underwater and see in the dark," Logan said before turning to the boy next to him.

"This is my boyfriend, Virgil," Logan said, moving a lock of vibrant purple hair out of Virgil's face.

"Do you want to show him?" Logan whispered to Virgil, who was fidgeting with his hoodie strings. Virgil gave a slightly nod and Logan pulled a rope out from his belt, wrapping it around Virgil's waist. Virgil bent down to unlock what seemed like iron boots fastened to his legs. The moment he'd stepped out from the shoes, the boy was a few feet above the ground, Logan holding the rope with one hand and Virgil's hand with the other. Logan helped Virgil back into the boots, fastening them back up before he took off the rope and placed it back on his belt.

"Virgil doesnt talk much," Remus said simply before turning to a boy with a large scar on his face. His skin was a dark brown, which made with yellow eyes stand out all the more obviously.

"Janus Allen, I can talk to animals," he said simply, bowing slightly and placing a kiss on Patton's hand, Patton noticed Remus shift slightly and let out a soft giggle.

"Remy Hypnos, and this is my little brother Emile," said the boy next to Janus, his skin was a lighter brown than Janus', and he was wearing sunglasses despite it not being very sunny out.

"Hes like medusa, and I can move stuff with my brain," Emile said, fidgeting with the bow in his hair.

"Well now that you've met all of us, welcome to the loner squad Patton," said Remus, clapping a hand on Patton's back with a grin. Patton thought he might enjoy it here much more than he'd first expected to.

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Tag List:

@nerosdayinhell

@meowthefluffy

@thecolorfulolive

@thefivecalls

@melodiread

@spooky-scary-virgil

@youtuberswithalex

@boobmaster69

@januses-nap-corner

#cori writes #long post #peculiars au #ts patton #ts logan #ts remus #ts virgil #ts sides #ts roman #ts janus #ts emile #ts remy #deintruality #romantic deintruality #rosleep #romantic rosleep #analogical #romantic analogical #hera sable

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dannineedsfriends · 5 years

Text

A Favour Part 2

Oof. I need some serious baby kisses next chapter to make up for this one.

Walking home, Anne was still wrapped up in Catherine's cardigan and she grapples onto Cathy's hand, to whom refuses to let go. Their shoulders brush together once more and Anne yawns softly, laying her head on her shoulder as they walk, despite it being uncomfortable.

"Tired?" Cathy asks, squeezing their interlocked fingers. Anne nods slowly and yawns again, squeezing back just as hard.

"A little bit. I've just been thinking about school and things and… how the only positive thing I associate with school is you."

"Anne, you don't have to act anymore.." she says, mumbling and looking to her feet. "The girl's aren't watching our every move anymore."

She shrugs. "'M being honest, love. I just have so much to prove to people and it's stressing me out, someone to pretend to be. With you, I had a completely fresh slate, almost no opinions beforehand, or expectations; it was a breath of fresh air. Never in my life have I been so utterly grateful for one person to be my friend, even if I'm a complete fuck-tart with bad hygiene."

"You don't have bad--"

"Oh don't jinx it. You'll say that and I promise- i won't shower for at least a month." She teases, lifting off of her shoulder and stepping away to swing their arms between them. "I just look at you and I see everything I want to be, everything I want to have, all in one deity of a human beings and…-"

Anne drawls off, not quite being able to fathom the words she's trying to say, and her silence almost costs her the chance.

"Wait.. this is your house.." she grumbles, shaking her head and taking the last of the heat before beginning to pull off the cardigan, but realising that Parr hadn't let go of her hand.

She just smiles, leading her up the steps to the front door and pushing it open, mentioning for Anne to step inside, to which she accepts gracefully, feeling the heat radiating from the doorway. Cathy pushes off her shoes and takes a deep breath, grabbing Anne's hand again and pulling her up to her bedroom.

"What do you think you're doing, out of curiosity?"

Before Catherine has time to answer, Anne is pushed up against the wall adjacent to the door, Cathy's lips to hers, urgent, desperate even, as her hands graze her hips, gripping them through the dungarees.

Anne pushes her fingers into her kind-of-girlfriend's curls, kissing her back with as much passion and pulling her closer, pushing the nape of her neck in encouragement. That was when she jumped to wrap her legs around her waist, crossing her feet and still being against the wall, but now Parr's hands were exploring the pockets of her shorts, grinning against the kiss.

It wasn't long before Parr's lips left hers, moving to explore her neck and jaw. From the glances of Cathy's face, she was covered in Anne's lipstick, which only excited her more. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as they somehow found their way onto the bed. That was when Anne pulled away from Cathy, breathing heavily as she found herself straddling her hips.

"What the fuck just happened?" Anne asks breathlessly and Parr sits up, holding herself up on one arm, the other arm shrugging as she touches the soft curls of baby hair at the base of Anne's neck, which raises goosebumps across the girl's arms.

"I don't know what came over me.. I never thought I'd do anything like that- ever." She raises her eyebrows and Anne can't help but grin at the sight in front of her. Cathy, the softest girl about, was beneath her, lips and chin covered in her lipstick.

"Please do it more often." Anne grins, moving to have her lips meet Cathy's again, softly, eyes fluttering shut. All desperation for contact was lost between them, and now they simply basked in the connections, timid yet so unperturbed.

"I'm planning on it." Cathy teases, shifting beneath Anne's weight once their kiss had broken once more. She rolls off of her lap, sensing the discomfort and sits up next to her, and her partner falls back into the bed, curls spreading across the pillow in a feathered blanket. Anne maneuvers across to the point where she's sat over Cathy's torso, looking down at her.

"Anne? Can I ask you something? Its okay if you say no- I've just always wanted to ask."

"Mhm?"

"Do you like girls?"

"Has there ever been a more obvious question?" She grins, eyes sparkling and she reaches and smudges the lipstick on her chin.

Cathy murmurs, trying to turn over but ceasing with the pressure of arms pulling her back in place. She opens her eyes to the sleeping figure of Anne Boleyn, peaceful and comfortable, she can assume. At some point, they must have fallen asleep because the covers were pulled over them.

She moves to rub her eyes, yawning and cringing at the fact that the sun was coming through the window, in the gap in the curtain. Never in her life had she woken up next to someone- let alone someone that she had made out with. She notices that Anne, the poor thing, is still in her dungarees, and her teeth tugs at her bottom limp. Isn't she uncomfortable?

Her dark brown hair covers her face and Cathy reaches out to push it out of the way, hand resting against her cheek, thumb stroking the skin. Anne shifts and inhales sharply, pulling at Cathy's hip.

Her gut doesn't tug like she thought it was, when Anne moves. If she was caught touching her, she was sure that Anne would just smile and lean into her touch. Why is this girl so… so… loving…?

And what made her so addictive? Why did every touch of Anne's fingers leave her craving more? Why did every kiss leave her lusting to feel her lips against hers just one last time?

Even the few kisses that she had shared with boys felt nothing like this, to her recollection. They felt meaningless and insignificant compared to the oceans of emotions thrumming through her veins when she kissed Anne…

Anne.

It was just Anne. A girl. Did she even like girls…? She had asked Anne and wasn't even sure herself. Anne wasn't a boy either, to her recollection. She glances down and shakes her head. Definitely not, no.

The girl in front of her smiles in her slumber, still trying to get closer to Cathy. Instead of allowing her to creep up on her, she shuffles back and blows gently into Anne's face, watching her eyelids flutter.

"You little dick-head! You're awake!" Catherine announces loudly, moving a bit away from her, and she observes Anne as she giggles and yawns, opening her eyes and stretching out, hand leaving Cathy's waist.

"You caught me." Anne smiles, watching her and Cathy sits up abruptly, pushing herself off of her bed and wiping at her face, suddenly. "Cathy-? Are you alright?"

But Cathy keeps moving and she's practically forced to drag herself after her, following her to sit outside the bathroom door, knocking on it. "Are you crying?"

Theres a hiccupped sob through the door. "No. Why would I be crying?"

"I dunno. That's why I'm asking because you're clearly upset." Anne shuts up, sighing and standing up. "Was it something I did..?"

"If it was me- I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to do anything and..-" she tries to think about what she could've done. She didn't touch anything in her room, she stayed in bed and cuddled her, like she asked. What else does she want?

"You- you're just..-" Cathy opens the door to the bathroom slightly, peaking out. "You're too fucking adorable and- it's not funny, Anne."

"You're-" she bites back a giggle. "You're crying because I'm cute?"

"Yes." She admits woefully, now shameful as she allows the door to swing open. Anne wraps her arms around Cathy's neck, leaning to kiss the corner of her lips.

"It's okay - I get that a lot." She says, lips still against her face. Despite herself, Cathy grins at the cheek of her, closing her eyes as the last tear skims her cheek. Anne brushes it away. "Now come back to bed - I need to cuddle my Cathy."

It became a regularity for Anne to show up on a Saturday morning when Cathy was enjoying her coffee. Sometimes they sat quietly and did homework, others they chatted and drank way too much than they should've, just because they wanted an excuse to keep talking, sometimes they even held hands over the table, when they were sure people weren't watching.

That was what made the moment that much more special, Catherine mused, fingers drumming against her mug as she checks the clock once more, straining her neck to see out of the window. Where was she? She sighs impatiently, running a hand through her hair and checking her phone for a message that she knew she hadn't got. Her phone wasn't on silent, and she knew that there were no messages coming through, but why did she check?

Because she was addicted to Anne. Her Anne. She looks to her coffee mug, now empty. Sighing, she stands up, picking up a small bag and putting it on her back. This was the first time in a while that she had been stood up. But- then again, what was she thinking? It wasn't a date. It wasn't a tradition for Anne to show up. It was simply a nice thing that was now no longer happening.

Cathy leaves the coffee shop disappointed. Shouldn't she be happy? After all, her quiet morning to herself was restored, and maybe she did enjoy it, she decides. Yeah. She did. She's completely fine without Anne. Instead of heading straight home, to prove that she's doing just fine, she detours through the park, taking in the ending cycle of the trees and the cold air.

It had barely been a month since the whole Anne shenanigans started, leaving Cathy completely out of ideas for Christmas. It was in a week, near abouts, and school was over, leaving her with nothing to do for two whole weeks. She hugs herself tightly, watching the fog emit from her mouth and shaking her head at herself for being foolish.

She was too busy watching the trees to notice that Anne was standing right in front of her, holding hands with a man, to whom she had never seen before. Her Anne leans into the figure, her profile grinning contentedly, looking to at him and leaning into his lips. She lets go of his hand and wraps her arms around his neck, her back to Parr.

Cathy audibly gasps and widens her eyes and turns on her heel, her stomach dropping to rattle at her feet as she walked, swallowing hard.

There's footsteps behind her, and then theres a hand twisting her around, and she catches the face of Anne, grabbing onto her, her lipstick smudged like it was the night of the party, but it's not her responsibility to fix it, not anymore. She shrugs her off and turning to walk away, blinking the tears out of her eyes and wiping at her face. She raises her shoulders to her ears, shaking her head again and again, ignoring the shouts that were coming from behind her.

"Cathy- Cathy, please!" Anne yells, jogging to keep up with her.

"Don't call me that!" Cathy snaps, turning around to look her in the face, swiping at her face. "Don't call me that.." she repeats, voice breaking and cracking as she stares Anne right in the face. She just shakes her head, eyes locking with Anne's.

"Go back to whoever the fuck that was. He's waiting for you." She spits, turning again and sprinting home.

An image flashes in her mind of her own hand clutched in Anne's. Her Anne's. Or- his Anne's, perhaps would be more fitting.

Anne didn't need her anymore, she decides. Everything Anne did was fake, obviously. If she meant any of it, why would she spend her time holding hands with someone else…? She meant nothing to Anne. The stolen kisses and the sweet whispers. Nothing. All the times Anne had held her close to her chest and told her that she was beautiful.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. It was all wrong! Catherine Parr is alone. She has been, is and always will be alone because, as proven, there will always be someone better. There will always be more. The grass is always greener on the other side, as they say. Why would such an angel as Anne be tied devilishly to a binding entity such as Parr? Because I'm worthless, she thinks. I'm worthless.

#six fanfiction #six musical #sixthemusical #fanfiction #it could be parrlyn idk man #parrlyn if you squint #parrlyn #parrelyn #anne x catherine #anne boleyn x catherine parr #catherine parr x anne boleyn #catherine parr #anne boleyn #boleyn x parr #parr x boleyn #my lesbian babies #my writing #oops my thumb slipped

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dylanobrienisbatman · 6 years

Note

Oooh blarke prompt! Sick fic or an exes to lovers but bellamy was the one to break up with clarke cause somehow it's almost always the other way around? 😘😘

AHHH!!! okay! I am SO sorry this took so long, but i finally finished! You can read it on AO3 here, or under the cut!

Caution Tape Around My Heart

Bellamy had always hated hospitals, his whole life he had hated them. At first it had just been in that way everyone did, the too sterile smell, the sick people everywhere, how there was always that one doctor who was sort of a dick but you couldn’t be a dick back because he was literally performing a procedure on you right then and there. But then, when he was 16, his mom died in a hospital, from a drug overdose, and that was the proverbial straw that broke the camels back. He was always on the brink of a panic attack when he was in hospitals, and the slightest thing would set him into a spiral that would take hours to come back from. And then, when he was 25, he found out he had cancer. He fell, playing soccer with friends, and the bruise just grew and grew and grew, over the next week, until it was almost his whole thigh, and he went to get it checked out, and they told him he had stage 3 non-Hodgkin Lymphoma. He was 31 years old now, and had been in remission for almost 3 full years, but his monthly checkups with his doctor still required an anti-anxiety pill beforehand and some serious attempts at meditation (recommended by his therapist that he had during treatment). It was his 2 year and 10 month checkup, post remission, and he was sitting in the waiting room at 945am, before his 1015 appointment, and his leg was bouncing up and down at full speed, and he kept continually having to wipe the sweat off his palms on his jeans. Any small thing was going to set him over the edge today, he had come down with a nasty cold last week and had convinced himself his cancer was back, had even called his doctor in hysterics (he had been assured that people just got colds, it was normal, but he asked to move his appointment up anyway), and so he was especially on edge.

Which meant Clarke Griffin walking into the waiting room REALLY was not what he needed today.

Oncology shared a waiting room with physical therapy, and she went to the check in desk on that side of the room, giving him a chance to quickly hop from his seat and find a spot in a corner, and also to be mildly relieved. She wasn’t here for cancer treatment, as far as he could tell, which… for all their difficult history, he wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy. He studied her from the back while she waited in line. Her hair was shorter, but it had been almost 6 years since he had seen her, but other than that she looked mostly the same. A little older, but still the same.

Clarke was his first love, and the girl he had loved most. She had been in a class he was a TA for when he was a senior in college and she was a freshmen, and had made it her mission to challenge him on every single thing he said, and he had basically loved her instantly, in that way that made him angry at himself because she was so clearly irritating. They had figured it out, when she was 20 and he was 23, after almost 2 years of being inseparable friends, and he was almost positive he was going to marry her. But things didn’t always work out as planned, and he had broken up with her pretty soon after he found out he had cancer, for a lot of different reasons, and that had been that. She had moved away pretty soon after, from what he had heard, and he hadn’t seen her since they broke up, until this moment, in the hospital, while he was already panicking about his checkup.

Perfect.

He tried his best to shuffle down into his seat, and grabbed a random magazine off the shelf, pulling it in front of his face, but shocking literally no one, not even himself, it didn’t work, and when Clarke turned around, they made eye contact instantly. Her eyes grew to the size of small dinner plates, and she looked frantically around, he was assuming for some kind of escape route that wouldn’t look suspicious. They stared at each other for a second, and then he watched as she steeled herself a little, and walked over to him. He had been expecting acknowledged ignoring, so this was a shock. She walked slow, like she was trying not to startle some small forest creature, and plopped down in the empty seat on his left.

“Hi Bellamy.”

“uh… Hey. Hey Clarke.” He wasn’t sure you were supposed to say to an ex that you hadn’t spoken too or seen in 6 years. He didn’t even know what she was up too. “What are you.. uh.. what are you doing here?” He wasn’t sure if he meant in town or in the hospital… he figured whichever she answered would be good enough.

“Raven had physical therapy today… I just got back in town a few weeks ago and she asked me to pick her up today.” Raven had known Clarke was in town for a couple of WEEKS and hadn’t told him? Which meant his other friends probably knew too. Dicks.

“That was nice of you.” He said. He was sincere, but she scoffed. He wasn’t sure he actually blamed her, but he tried to recover. “No, really. I’m not… I’m not trying to be a dick.” She looked at him through the corner of her eye. They hadn’t actually made eye contact since she sat down, an awkward position for an awkward encounter. She smiled, wary but apologetic.

“What are YOU doing here?” She asked, glancing over him. He didn’t seem like he had an injury that required therapy, and he had never told her about his cancer.

“Uhh, i’ve got a… i’ve got a checkup with my oncologist.” Her eyes widened, finally turning to face him.

“You ha-“

“I’m in remission. I’ve been in remission for… a while. Just a monthly checkup. A few blood tests, a couple questions. No big deal.” He wasn’t sure if he actually succeeded at feigning the blasé attitude, but to be fair, he didn’t really care if she believed him or not. She wasn’t entitled to his story, not anymore. He felt a weird sense of rage grow in his belly.

“Oh.. Well.. congratulations.” Platitudes, meant for strangers and acquaintances. He wasn’t sure what category she was even in.

“Yeah… Thanks..”

They sat in silence for another minute, which felt like hours. He wasn’t sure what to say, and clearly neither was she. She opened her mouth to speak a couple of times before snapping it shut, and retreating back into her seat. She finally opened it again, and was about to actually say something when the nurse opened the door and called his name.

“Wou-“

“Bellamy Blake?” He stood up, but turned to face her. Eye contact was terrifying. He looked at her nose instead. He waited a second, and then turned, because she had clearly decided not to finish her sentence, and walked about 3 steps before she finally spoke up.

“Would you like to grab a coffee or something? I’d love to talk. To catch up.” He paused, and the nurse looked expectantly. He smiled at her, and turned.

“Yeah… uh… Raven has my number. Just… text me. or call me. or whatever.”

She nodded, a small smile on her mouth that looked almost forced, and he turned away from her and followed the nurse inside.

He was numb through most of the appointment, barely hearing what the doctor said. The real news came later, thankfully, when they called him in 2-3 days with the results of his call, so he wasn’t concerned, and he hopped on the subway home at around 11, barely even paying attention. Thankfully he didn’t have to drive. He really didn’t expect her to text, but at around noon, his phone rang, and an unknown number was CALLING him. He contemplated letting it go to voicemail, but his more impulsive side got the better of him and he answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hello… is this Bellamy?” Her voice was sort of shaky and unsure.

“Yeah, hey Clarke.”

“Are you busy right now? I’m at Ravens and she said you live close. I could meet you for coffee wherever.”

He contemplated making up a busy day, but he had taken off work for the appointment and he was just planning on lounging around his house and finishing up the new book he had picked up on the rise and fall of the ottoman empire, and that nagging feeling in his gut wouldn’t go away. He had to know, had to have a moment of closure even if it ended in a fight. He didn’t have high expectations.

“Nope, not busy at all. Theres a little local place on Atlantic and Smith.” She agreed, and they scheduled about 30 minutes out. He thought about changing into something else, but she had seen him this morning, and she would know. He didn’t want to give her the impression that he was trying to make himself look good for her. He ignored the way his heart was about to bust through his ribs and run across the room. He pulled on his shoes, tucked his book under his arm, fumbled trying to lock his door, and made his way there. He figured if he was early he could pick a good table, order himself a drink, and look reasonably comfortable before she showed up.

Apparently she had the same idea, because she walked in while he was ordering.

They stood awkwardly near the counter while their drinks were made, and settled into two comfy chairs in the back corner. She broke the silence after a moment.

“I just wanted too… I don’t know. This seems stupid now.” She looked at him for something. He wasn’t sure if she wanted him to contradict her or confirm her thoughts, but he didn’t even really know what he thought anyway.

“I mean… maybe it is. But were here now, so we should probably at least talk a little. No point in all this discomfort otherwise.” She chuckled, and some part of him, some 6 years hidden, 25 year old part of him, preened at making her laugh. The feeling hit him baseball to the face, and he didn’t know how to respond to it.

“Very true.” She agreed, which was a relief. “What have you been up too?” It was such a broad question to cover 6 years.

“I’m a history professor, at Columbia. I have been for about 2 years. I’m working towards my Ph.D. in their history department too, taking a few night classes and stuff. Living here, obviously.” It felt so pedestrian, talking about his job with the person who used to know him best in the whole world. “You?”

“I.. uh.. I just moved back. To the city. I have a job as a curator at the Brooklyn Museum. Finished up college, obviously, with my art degree… you know that you were there,” she was talking so fast, her nerves apparent. She hadn’t picked up her cup in a while because her hands were shaking. “…And did a masters, and I was working as a curator for a small gallery in San Francisco for about a year before I applied for this job. I am staying with Raven for a few days before I can move into my new place.” Another weird conversational standstill. She looked at him with this look that just sort of told him that she wanted him to ask something next. He just wasn’t sure what to ask.

“That’s great, sounds like the perfect job for you.” He realised this was somehow weird to say, because while she might not have changed that much, 6 years is a long time. She could be a totally different person. He didn’t know her at all anymore. He tried not to think about that. “I don’t know what to say, Clarke.” It was true. Their breakup had been gnarly, full of anger and cruel words, and resentment dies hard. And he held quite a bit of it towards her for the thing she had done.

“Bellamy I-“ She started but he cut in.

“Your mom called me “welfare trash” Clarke. To my face. And you just… stood there. We had been dating for almost TWO YEARS, and you let her call me that.” She shrunk into her seat. He realised that his words were still coming, a stream of things unsaid, things unresolved. “You let her tell me I wasn’t good enough for you, that my “status” in life would never be enough for you, and that you would leave me for someone with more money once you realised that I couldn’t give you the life you wanted.” She was welling up, but that just made him angrier. She didn’t get to cry about his pain. “And then you let her sit there, and tell you about how much better for you this man and that man and this girl and that girl, ‘some young lawyer maybe dear’ ‘perhaps doctor whats his nuts’. You let her humiliate me. And I just took it, and you apologised to me afterwords, but you never corrected her. You never stood up for me. And for the next month, you just let her keep it up. And at that point i already knew about my cancer, and you just… let her keep at it.” Her eyes widened. He hadn’t told her about the cancer. “And i know you didn’t know, but you didn’t need to know. I was your boyfriend and you just…” He trailed off, shutting his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down. He got his breathing straight.

“So I broke up with you. You clearly didn’t want to defend me to your mom, and maybe you agreed with her, maybe you didn’t, but you never told her. Maybe you did later, but you should have done it in front of me, or at least in the days following. And I had cancer, and I couldn’t pile that on to someone who couldn’t even stand up to her mom for me.” Her face was a maze of emotions, from distress, shock, and sorrow, to something heavy, like grief. He finally sat back in his seat and just… breathed.

“I’m sorry.” That was what he wanted to hear, but not at all what he expected. He almost dropped his coffee. “I was 22, and I know thats not an excuse, but she… well… its my mom. And that was when i still had this weird hero worship complex towards her. I didn’t know how to stand up to her back then. I didn’t know what to do.” He was sure he looked stunned, and maybe a little angry. “I’m not trying to make excuses. I’m not. I deserved everything you said back then… and everything you said now. You were everything to me, and i let her… i let her treat you like garbage. I just want you to… I don’t know. A couple of years later, when I finally got my head out of my ass a little, I confronted her about it. I told her you were… my best friend,” Her voice was shaky, like she was going to cry. He resisted the urge to reach across the table and take her hand. “You were my first REAL love. I had boyfriends, and girlfriends before you. And i loved them, sure. I loved Lexa, I loved Finn, kind of,” it was his turn to chuckle, “but you were different. And i just… I’m just sorry. I know i was wrong, and I’m just sorry. I wanted you to know that.” He wasn’t sure what to say.

“What did your mom say?” Was what came out, entirely unprompted by his conscious brain. He wanted to kick himself. She smiled, to her credit.

“She was shocked to say the least, but i think i got through to her. And a couple years after that I found out about her involvement with my fathers death, so we don’t speak anymore anyways.” That was the kind of bomb of information he wasn’t prepared for, and his subconscious took the opportunity, yet again over riding his conscious choice to maintain the appearance of not caring, to take control of his mouth.

“She WHAT?” Clarke shook her head, and suddenly the conversation flowed. She told him about her mom and what she had done, and that flowed into stories about their lives. The conversation was simple, nothing too exposing, except the story about her mom, and his story about his cancer. She asked about his sister, about his job, he asked about Wells and HER job, and they just sort of traded stories. It still felt weird, like talking to a stranger who somehow new too much about him to ever be a real stranger. The only stayed for about an 45 minutes, nothing too long or intense, but at the end he felt like a weight was lifted. They didn’t hug, or touch at all, when they parted ways, but he saved her still ‘unknown’ number in his phone during his walk home and he figured that was a start.

Over the next few months, she slowly reintegrated into his life. She was invited out for drinks every weekend, now that her friends knew that he knew she was back, and asked him to lunch so often that it was a scheduled thing now, to see her at work or on the weekends. But it was Raven’s birthday were it all came to a head.

Her “party” was just a get together at her loft, with all her friends and her girlfriend Luna, and when he got there it was just the two of them and Clarke. He dropped the 12 pack of beers and the pack of cupcakes he brought on the counter, and found them all three out on the balcony, drinking a bottle of red wine. He tried to ignore the way it stained Clarkes lips pink. He had caught himself thinking about her a lot the last couple of times they had spent time together. Their time together had gotten more familiar, easy like it used to be, and the way he used to feel, at the beginning of their friendship, so long ago was creeping its way back in. He had broken up with her out of rage, and betrayal, and in an attempt to protect himself from her, but it had been so long. Every time they spent time together, she would find a way to apologise again, to assure him that she knew, she knew she had been wrong, so long ago, she knew that what she had done had hurt him, and he felt the wall he had built being brought down, piece by piece. He tried his best to force it back up, to retain the barrier between himself and his feelings, but it was harder than he expected it to be.

The night wore on, and the beers got him fuzzy, and wine always made her touchy, and before he really realised it, her arm was around his waist, and they were sharing the recliner. He thought about pulling himself away from her, but the smell of her hair and the feel of her, warm and solid around him, was like every dream he ever had those first couple of years after she left, and the part of him that made good choices with logic was hiding behind that wall that kept shrinking down, and letting the part of him that led with his heart take the lead. So he stayed, pressed against her, letting himself feel it, letting himself maybe think that he could see past it. that he could forgive her. Her hand found his knee, his thigh, his arm, his shoulder, over and over again, and his brain just kept getting fuzzier as the night dragged on. When it was finally time to go leave, she hugged him goodbye, tucking her nose into the junction of his shoulder and his neck, and when she leaned back, she pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, closer to the corner of his lips but not quite, and the place where her lips landed was on fire. She untangled herself from him and wandered out to go home, leaving him shell shocked.

She didn’t call him the next day, didn’t reach out at all, and he felt like he was going out of his mind. He picked up his phone at least 7 times to call her, and then put it back down. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself, just kept pacing around his apartment. He couldn’t find anything to distract him, and before he really realised what he was doing he was putting on shoes and grabbing his keys and catching the train to her apartment, his brain rattling around as he rode. He knew it was stupid. She had only been back for 6 months, but the anger of a 25 year old him, scared of dying, scared of loosing her, scared of not being good enough seemed... far away now. Far away from the 31 year old version of himself that was standing here now, missing this girl he had told himself it was stupid to miss. Longing for this girl he had made himself push away. She was just like he remembered. She was his perfect match. She was strong, and bright, and beautiful as he'd ever seen her, and full of so much joy. She was everything he ever wanted, just like she had been at 23, and 24, and 25. Just like she had been all those years in between, when he made himself ignore how he compared every person he dated to her. She was made for him. She was a part of his heart. She was his "One".He got to the door, and realised he had no idea what to do. He paced outside for almost 10 minutes, and was just about to ring her bell when his phone buzzed.

He pulled it from his pocked, and her name flashed across the screen. He answered it.

“Hey..”

“Hey where are you?” He paused, but before he could answer she kept talking. “I’m at your place, and you’re not answering your bell.” He couldn’t hold it together, and started laughing, right there on the street. “what are yo-“ He interrupted her through his laughter.

“Im at your place.”

“What?!”

“I was just… I don’t know. So i came to your place to.. I don’t know.”

“Just stay there,” she said, hanging up the phone. He stood awkwardly outside her house for the next 20 minutes until she rounded the corner and saw him. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of him, and then took of at a run, barrelling into him, holding him tight. He took a second to respond, and then wrapped his arms around her waist. She unhooked herself from him, and took him by the hand and led him into her apartment. He stopped just inside the doorway, and she turned to face him. “Look, Bellamy, I know it was all… a mess. And its only been a little while… but. It feels the same. Like it did at the beginning.”

“Yeah… it does…” He felt like he was betraying some small part of himself by feeling it all. By feeling it again. But they had alway been sort of undeniable. And the problems between them were so long ago, and so… gone. Her mom wasn’t in her life anymore, and she had finally stood up for him, even if it was a little too late, and she had come back, and apologised so much that he had to finally ask her to stop. He had forgiven her.

“i was so angry with you, for treating me that way.” She nodded, and him, taking both of his hands. “I dont want to feel that way anymore.” She squeezed his fingers, and kept her face trained and neutral.

“I understand… Forgiveness is hard for us. It always was. And this… this was big Bellamy. I know i hurt you. And I’ll spend as long as it takes to make it right again. I need you Bellamy. I always did.” Her sincerity was palpable.

“You were my person, Clarke. I never found another person in my life who was as good for me, as right for me, as much my other half… you.” A small smile finally creeped into her cheeks. “If we take this slow…”

“Glacial pace… I promise.” She took a step forward, just slight but enough to put her in his space.

“Okay.” He said, soft. She took another step, and pushed up onto her toes, slow. Waiting for him to meet her in the middle. He leaned down, and she pressed up just enough, and pressed a soft dry kiss against his mouth. She stepped back, faster than he maybe wanted, but he knew they made the right choice. Six years and all that history, they needed time, time to get it right.

And this time they would.

Together.

#bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #bellarke fanfic #bellarke fan fiction #bellarke fan fic #bellarke ff #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 fanfic #the 100 fan fiction #the 100 fan fic #my writing #fic request #prompt #asks #answered

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craftedcoils-blog-blog · 3 years

Text

A Room With A View

Not only is the floor hard but its covered in wires. The empty cigarette packs make a nice cushion if they're in the right position. Theres a vent high above me that almost touches the cement ceiling but stops short. I like to look at it like it's some bond villain; more powerful than the wall but not quite as collected and austere as the ceiling. Like it's waiting at the bus terminal with a bomb. Waiting for a certain bus with a certain passenger but is to distracted by it's own motive and doesn't read the right sign and ends up missing the bus because he isn't sure which passenger is on which bus. Always he misses the bus. Will always miss the bus. Theres no two ways about it.

There are pipes. One is in a perpendicular erection to the wall but straight forward like the penis had a muzzled dog nose. Another pipe behind it, thicker and spray painted for some reason, was burrowed into a drywall box in one corner on one end and painted the same color as the drywall box in the opposite corner. This is weird to me. Fucking weird. Like an ironic mistake. It occurs to me that I have to think about these things if I ever want to fall asleep. Especially in this place. Unless I am comfortable, my mind will devour me and I will eat reality like I'm starving and it's a delicious hamburger, until the daydream becomes a nightmare and I become comfortable because I have picked certain things out to help occupy my brain with meaningless information. It has to be this way. Things have to bear absolutely no importance on my waking life, it has to be random, arbitrary, stupid…otherwise my mind will eat it up and I cannot handle the digestion because my metabolism is too quick. And insatiable, never filled, always hungry. Like there is a tunnel inside of the mind and at the end is a slight glimmer of something you can barely touch and despite how much you want it and how obsessed you become with it, it just becomes a part of your dream or twisted nightmare. And then you fall asleep.

I have been in this room for an indeterminable amount of time. ��Its part of an experiment, I have agreed to. I cannot leave, it is part of the experiment, and if I do, everything will fall apart somehow and I will loose what I have been trying to obtain and in one fell swoop become exposed again to the fucked up world outside and my mind, the frailest of organs, will once again become diluted by society. It will give me information that I do not need or want and it will reduce me proper. Like vermiculite to soil, like sand, like the croppings of beetle wings, sawdust and basil that, in some mad scientist's version of an antidote to some disease I do not have, is somehow connected to the panacea that I need but can never bring myself to ask for.

I have a friend that comes by and brings me things. Survival elements; Food, beer and cigarettes mostly. The later two without question, the former can momentarily be substituted by meditation and further drinking. The food is usually dim sum. I didn't ask for it but I don't really care. I'll eat shoelaces when Im drunk and the MSG makes me feel like i'm sparkles and helps me sleep so I go with it. Sometimes he brings me trinkets which I usually throw into a corner somewhere but then rearrange them quickly if I know he's coming to establish a perception that maybe I am ministering these stupid items as if they mean something to me. Maybe they should. I just don't seem to care. My friend's name is Fred.

Sometimes Fred comes by, and for reasons I can only explain to myself, I can tell he is afraid. Maybe it's the awkward look on his face and the darting glances that shoot out like an estranged chrysalis atop an asparagus high on lightning and forcing itself into every conceived corner of non-space, but it frightens me back actually, seeing a human being so offensively perturbed by another. Or maybe its not me he is afraid of and if its not then that scares me even more. I guess it's a sort of symbiosis that we have. A collaboration in fear.

I hate to say it, perhaps because I rely on him so much and have known him for so long but, sometimes I sense something almost sinister in Fred. A betrayal; but not from him in particular. He is a good person, I can sense it. I wouldn't have begun this whole thing if he weren't. But I feel as if he is some kind of a henchman, perhaps even for this whole situation, this weird experiment that we have agreed to. In the beginning it was more jovial, I had it under control, or at least I thought I did and that was good enough to keep me happy or whatever. But at this juncture I am no longer sure who is in control of what or if there is any control to be had at all. Sometimes its like I have become not mine or Fred's but some other force's twisted experiment. Like I am a prisoner. I think I have to imagine these scenarios because I have no contact with the outside world. In this scenario I have created I can imagine him driving away from this room in silence as some dark overlord pats him on the back, appearing out of nowhere in the backseat and congratulating him on a job well done. He resists the accolades because he hates what he has do to but has no say in the matter regardless. At least this is what I see in his eyes as he hands me the half rack and bags of dim sum and seems to be begging me to be the one to stop all this. He handles it all like he's fucking poisoning it and I look at him. I try to tell him that I've poisoned myself and that he has nothing to do with it, but my eyes are not so revealing, forgiving.

Yesterday, I think it must have been, I wrote a a small bit about altruism on the wall next to a strange hole that only goes as deep as my longest finger will allow. I think I love this hole. I don't understand it, and it makes as little sense to me as a monkey on a tugboat, but I don't seem to want to know why or how this hole is here either. I just want to love it as it is. It is a beautiful thing when you can choose not to care about what you love because you know it just is and will always be what you think you love. But I wrote this thing on the wall and I was thinking that it doesn't matter if you do nice things at all. Assholes do nice things all the time. I think you have to be afraid to be an asshole. Fear is the overlooked cousin of empathy but balancing fear and empathy is too difficult for most of us to imagine. Fear makes you sensitive and through the introspection that is created through your own knowledge of it you become empathetic. False confidence does not breed sensitivity, that much I am sure of. The gift shop is what we cant help but expose to the rest of the world. The gallery is what we have inside that people are constantly trying to figure out. I used to think that I was a nice person until I realized that having these kind of thoughts make me an asshole.

Anyways, I have to let myself breath sometime and sometimes I miss people because, despite all their annoying faults and beautiful problems, they are at least interesting. I miss being downtown and looking at some random guy 's head lesion after I establish eye contact and then they look away right before I do. I miss catching a fearful glance from someone dressed in a halloween costume that is slightly more outgoing than their comfort can allow. I miss sitting awkwardly in a stairwell with a cigarette, watching the people go up and down wondering if it's normal or not. I miss the mystery of whether or not things are normal because right now I have no idea. I guess I need that self proclaimed vindication. I need some kind of reference point, I need something to see so that I can at least see through it. In this room I cannot bring myself to see anything let alone see through anything. The only faults I can identify are my own and they have no reference. I guess the only thing you can actually see through is yourself and once you pass through that and into the other room all there is are one way mirrors.

I miss little interactions with people that don't matter. People that don't matter say the most interesting things because they don't care and they don't care because no one has ever cared about them. Their thoughts are only their own. I miss the homeless superheroes, riding that electric rainbow into foreverness. I miss talking about things that I don"t give a shit about just for my own therapy. I miss calculating the time it takes for grocery clerks to bag your groceries. Some of them are really good, but i'll never tell them. I guess I just miss slipping on the slime that coats the city. It has a strange cushion when you fall. It's like a lillypad, you might fall in but you can't expect anything. In this room I have my shoes in a small duffle bag in the corner and all I use are flip-flops.

What I don't miss is the planing and strategy that comes along with interacting with society, contorting my face and personality to match an assumed perception of some female, hobgoblin or whatnot that I see on the bus, looking off with squinted eyes and lips pursed like an asshole. Im definitely an asshole, at this point i've relaxed to this fact. I don't really miss sex all that much. At least not as much as I miss talking to women and kissing their faces. I masturbate about once every 4 hours but I don't have a clock in here. There's also that thing that happens when your talking to people and you weigh their personality and react to them accordingly. People will tell you they don't do this but they all definitely do, its just that some people are not very self aware or too much so, at this point i cant really tell. I do miss friendship. And I miss being a brother.

I can tell my friend is here again because I can hear the estranged echo of footsteps and the rustling of plastic bags and him typing in the code onto the keypad on the door. You have to press the buttons in very firmly otherwise it takes forever and it's no longer a secret. I have given him the privilege of coming in unannounced because I feel it gives me a very small amount of spontaneity that i think is important. I hear him keying in the code and my brain has to immediately shift from private to social in 3-5 seconds. I think that humans need this shift to survive. When you pull them out into the world it is overwhelming. They are in a constant state of trying to understand the private recesses of their mind's while spontaneously interacting with others in the process. Thats why society is schizophrenic. Why do children learn to talk? Because everyone else is doing it, and so I have arranged for the lowest possible amount of this. Learn to react immediately.

I have one bucket in the corner in which I pee and shit the massive amounts of MSG I consume. I cover it with seran wrap. It may not be the best system but I'm too lazy to think of anything else. I'm not Alan fucking Turing. I've told Fred not to give me any advice and to overlook any discrepancy that he may see in my behavior while i'm in here. I have directed him to abandon any formula for this scenario that he may construct and I tell him to shut up and I am still learning to do the same: Any mistakes I may make in this eternity are my own to live with and thats the way I've decided it should go.

Sometimes I want to talk to Fred about the world. This is not one of those times but sometimes I do. I occasionally want to engage with him about the ticks and tocks of life out there. But I have expressed very clearly that he is not to speak to me about anything other than what may be happening in this room. There's something about this that I don't think he likes.

The list of items I have in this room are as follows: a tiny glockenspiel that I hammer out rhythms with, a recording interface, two microphones, two speakers, a children sized drum set, 37 books of empty college ruled paper piled up in the corner and 3 scattered about the room with diametric scribblings and esoteric remarks on random pages about divinity, 20 30 paged books of staff paper untouched, a USB keyboard, a Bob Hope marionette I bought from a Ukrainian gypsy on 4th ave in Olympia, 3 firewire cables, 7 xlr cables, a pair of colorful boots, an amplifier and 3 foot switches.

I have acquired the habit of marking, with a ball point pen, all of the spots where I bruised, cut or hurt myself. For example, I fell onto a cymbal stand the other day and now my shoulder is in considerable pain. I think i'll keep re-marking it until it goes away. At least I can reach it. At least I can diagnose the problem. I feel as if this calculated procedure will help in identifying things about myself that would otherwise go unnoticed. At least the parts of myself that I can reach. If I am not becoming a robot, than I am coming close to being one. As if thought were just an amalgam of circumstance. My environment is finite, like a local bar where you are a regular. You keep thinking you are going to experience something different with each day, but nothing ever changes. You go in, expecting to find that one thing that tells you that you are alive and not just a machine, but it never comes. You are the same person you were yesterday, and the day before, and you can never expect anything different. You can never expect life to be something that it isn't because then it never will. You will always be seeing past life instead of through it. Your frustration of what is not happening will shadow reality and make you a non-entity, a husk of what was once a human. But then you wake up for some reason in the middle of the night and go outside, because this is where you think life happens.

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