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violetnotez · 4 years ago

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fic or whatever concept: fushiguro is in love w the reader but they have a huge crush on yuuji and it’s just megumi suffering as the reader and yuuji get together and they’re actually really,,, happy??? and in love???

This is the shit I LIVE FOR -also I made a whole playlist for this idea-you can watch the vid here!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Megumi x reader (not really?), Yuuji x reader

Songs to Listen to: Treat You Better (but the Kurt Hugo version, seriously, thank me later!)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Maybe if he had tried harder, this wouldn’t have ended up like this. He just felt alone, empty, with nothing to show but a broken heart and head full of bitter dreams.

Did he fool himself? That maybe, some miraculous way, he would have won?

Megumi lay on his bed, worn sweatshirt making his skin crawl and his black sweats uncomfortable to wear, his toes curling from disgust.

Nothing could get his mind off of you, even months after you started dating Yuuji.

It almost got worse, now that you were off limits.

Funny how it works like that.

His brain seemed to just always want to think of you-the way your voice seemed to sparkle when you yell out his name, the way you look too damn cute when you’d walk out of your dorm room in the morning, hair messy and feet bare-

Fuck fuck fuck.

Megumi groaned, placing a hand on his forehead and smoothing his hair back in exasperation.

You weren’t his, and you’d never be his-he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were dating his best friend after all-didn’t he have any shame?

Even though he was in so much heart ache, so much pain from the fact he couldn’t have you.....he couldn’t ever hate his friend from taking you away from him.

Yuuji was good to you, and painfully, he had to admit Yuuji was better than him in every way as a boyfriend.

Yuuji was sociable, able to strike up a conversation and make everyone feel like his best friend-Megumi wasn’t like that.

Yuuji wasn’t afraid of physical touch, constantly having a hand on your hip to keep you near him or swinging you around lovingly like he hadn’t seen you in years- he was terrified of physical touch.

Yuuji was strong, powerful, and able to protect you from the world- he couldn’t say the same for himself.

Megumi’s insecurities were infesting his body, gnawing at his bones, squirming through his muscles and into his skin, making his jaw clench and nails dig deep into his skin from disgust within himself.

Why hadn’t he at least fucking tried?

But he had been too placid, too worried of rejection, too worried of ruining your friendship-

But then again....he was just too selfless. He was willing to let everyone around him surpass him if it meant they would win, thrive, and live happy lives- even if it meant he had to suffer the consequence.

Megumi squeezed the white sheets around him, twisting them into tight spirals around his digits.

He let it happen again-he had succumbed to that fear.

Years worth of affection, years worth of admiration and dedication-washed away like it never happened., because of it And now he was dealing with the repercussion with phantoms of what could have been, with the jealousy, and a broken heart.

Megumi shifted in his bed, feeling his sweatshirt stick to his back, his hand reached out to grasp at the white beams of moonlight drifting into his room.

What would have happened if he had said no that day? Would anything have changed-if he had admitted that he did like you, that he had wanted to call you his?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

He remembers that day like it was yesterday, that feeling of dread filling in his stomach as if he knew something was about to change, the shift of energy making an icy chill run along his back.

Yuuji has been behind him, leaving training as they usually do with his hands in his pockets.

It was quiet, the hallways empty except for the two of them, the wooden floors making soft clicks as it reacted to their footsteps. It should have felt peaceful, a soft breeze fluttering in from the opened windows as the sun began to set outside. But that errie sensation was still boiling in Megumi’s gut, that gnawing feeling of dread making him unable to enjoy the peace.

“Hey man, I wanted to ask you something real quick,” Yuuji’s voice stopped Megumi in his tracks, his feet halting with an echo in the empty corridor.

Megumi turned around slowly, tentatively, almost too worried to face what was behind him.

Maybe at this time he knew what was about to happen, the feeling of dread settling.

“Sure,” he simply stated, shrugging nonchalantly as the golden sun set the room in a red hue.

“This might be a little personal,” Yuuji began, hands placed in the pockets of his sweatshirt still, “but I got a question about y/n.”

Yuuji looked at him, staring him down like two men in a duel. He was serious, more serious than Megumi had seen him in a long time.

“I know you guys are pretty close...”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Megumi stated, swallowing a ball of saliva down his dry throat.

“Well, I-“ Yuuji sighed, pink hair swaying as he looked down at the floor quickly, almost preparing himself for what he was about to say next.

“I-I wanted to ask them out.....out on a date....”

“- it okay with you?”

Megumi’s eyes widened in shock, the his whole body feeling as if hit by a ton of bricks from Yuuji’s words.

This was it-the worst case scenario, the worst thing he knew was happening but didn’t want to admit.

Megumi tried to recover quickly, his eyes slanting back down to unamused slits in a matter of seconds.

“Why are you asking me?” he questioned, trying to keep the growing panic inside him at bay,” It’s not like I dictate who she dates.”

“I think you know why.”

“I don’t.”

“Fushigoro-“

Megum sighed violently, eyes looking up at the ceiling as he tried to fight the growing pain in his heart.

“I don’t dictate your life-I don’t dictate them-and you don’t dictate mine. Do whatever the hell you want-“

“I won’t date them unless you say it’s okay for me to Fushigoro.”

Itadori’ voice had none of that boyish, playful tone to it. It was more mature than Megumi had even heard it-but something behind it was different.

It was almost like there was this desperateness to it- Yuuji needed him to say yes. Yuuji so badly wanted to call you his-just like him.

“You can say no-“ Itadori rushed on, eyes intense with anticipation, “-I won’t think less of you or hate you for it.”

Megumi watched as he shuffled uncomfortably, the knowledge that he just admitted his crush making him slightly sheepish as he scratched the back of his head.

“Hell, I know I would-” he said truthfully, “ I just don’t want to ruin our friendship by going behind your back.”

Fuck, Megumi wanted to fight for you. He wanted to so so badly.

Megumi had known you for longer, you two were close friends, he had a connection to you-didn’t he deserve to be yours after being so dedicated to only you?

Fushigoro was there for when you cried over your stresses, rubbing your back patiently as you let everything out of you, summoning his animals because he knew how much they made you happy.

He was there for your late night study sessions, the lighting hazy as the pouring rain pounded on the window, cleaning up your room of the papers and flashcards after he convinced you to go to sleep.

He trained with you when you worried you weren’t strong enough, always making sure to congratulate you in someway, fighting the redness in his cheeks after you had successfully completed a new move, your skin dangerously close to his.

God, he had waited for so long-why did the world have to fuck him over? Why did his best friend, out of all the people in the world he could form a crush on, like you like that?

But looking at Yuuji, he knew he wouldn’t win this war. Him and Yuuji were very similar in their passion and devotion, but the simple difference between them was Yuuji wasn’t afraid to be selfish.

Megumi was accustomed to backing down for everyone, sacrificing himself so the people he loved could succeed. It was an awful habit of his, maybe due to his insecurities, maybe just a routine he learned at this point, he would never know- but the fact was he knew that Yuuji would never stop fighting for you. Even if Megumi screamed at him, cursed at him, told him to fuck off and leave you alone-Yuuji wouldn’t ever stop loving you. Itadori would respect Megumi’s wishes, but he would still protect you, fight for you, and love you with everything in him.

And that much devotion coming from someone as charismatic and kind like that-what person wouldnt fall for that?

Megumi sighed, his heart breaking in two at the sudden realization hit him-he was too weak to be any threat to Yuuji.

”You’re not going behind my back.” He finally said, looking down at the floor as the self loathing boiled in his stomach.

“But you-“

“I don’t. Like them.” Megumi was seething, hating every fiber in his body for doing this to himself. Each word was choppy, the sentence laced with sternness and bitterness.

“-Do whatever the hell you want.”

Megumi needed to leave, and leave quick. He hadn’t felt this emotional in a long time, and he didn’t want Yuuji to start thinking that he was actually bothered by all of this.

He turned on his heel, ready to get out of there as quickly as possible-

“Hey Megumi- you really okay with this? This won’t change our friendship? I won’t do this unless youre okay-“

Yuuji took a step forward, hand reaching out to his friend as a peace offering, a sheepish smile on his lips.

Megumi turned, his chest tightening as he looked down at his hand, too tired to reach out for it and pretend like he didn’t hate his friend at this moment.

“They dont like me. They like you- I see it. You’ll make them happy, and that’s all I want for them.”

Yuuji smiled , seemingly content with his quiet friend’s answer.

“Thanks man,”

Megumi turned again, head hanging low as he quickly left the corridor, desperate to get out of there.

“Tell me thank you when they say yes.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

He groaned, letting the painful memories overtake him as he turned his back to the wall.

It just hurt-maybe he would get over all of this one day, but right now he couldnt.

As if on cue to deepen his torture, he heard a giggle from you across his room, the muffled noise of Yuuji’s voice making him cringe.

Thin ass walls-you were probably visiting Yuuji again for the night, staying up all night to watch movies.....

This was destroying him-but he couldnt ever blame you for it, because you were oblivious to his love for you. He had made sure you would never catch on- and now you would never know because he was too cowardly to ever say it.

God, what he’d do to have the roles switched though...with you breaking school rules to come visit him at night, to here that sweet laugh in his room, to feel your head cuddle into his chest, or see you slowly begin to wake up in the morning....

Megumi felt a pain in his chest at the wanting feeling that would never fully be satiated gnaw at his chest, his hands despertedly grabbing at his pillow and shoving it against his ear.

He didnt want to hear you, he didnt want to see you...at this moment he didnt want anything to do with you or Yuuji.

This hurt too much...

Fuck, he really screwed up.

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thephantomessoftheopera · 3 years ago

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Notes on Gaston Leroux’ “The Phantom of the Opera” - Chapter 6: “The Enchanted Violin”

<< Previous Chapter

Artwork by @coatntails on deviantart

“The Enchanted Violin” introduces us to the childhood friendship of Raoul and Christine - but first, we learn that Christine did not continue to triumph at the Opera, but only sang once more in society at the invitation of the Duchess of Zurich and, after that, cancelled everything including a charity concert. She was apparently terrified by her triumph during the gala night, and didn’t “recognize herself” anymore when she sings. Before, she was emotionally distant and indifferent because she had shut everything out so she could cope with the grief of her father’s death. The amount of passion and feeling that Erik’s lessons had to rekindle in her must have felt terrifying and perhaps even painful to her. Plus, baring your heart and soul on stage like she did is, by itself, something that can indeed feel terrifying! In this chapter, we learn that Raoul has indeed been watching her performances at the Opera for some time, but also felt that she seemed indifferent to everything and everyone - until her soul finally came alive again with her gala night performance.

Philippe de Chagny has even tried to further her career with the managers to please his little brother, but Christine does not wish for him to do so. Raoul tries to seek her out, but without success. One morning though, Raoul receives a letter from Christine, assuring him that she has not forgotten the “little boy who fetched her scarf from the sea”, and informing him that she will be going to Perros-Guirec to visit her father’s grave on the anniversary of his death. Perros-Guirec is a seaside village in Brittany, quite far from Paris.

Raoul doesn’t lose time and rushes to the Montparnasse station to follow her, but fails to catch the morning train and has to wait all day for the night train (Raoul tends to have a bit of bad luck following him around).

This chapter also gives us a short biography of Christine Daaé. In the novel - contrary to the musical - she is described as blonde and blue-eyed, slender and somewhat short-sighted, which would presumably give her a bit of a dreamy, unfocused expression if nobody hands her a pair of glasses (I guess Erik wouldn’t mind her short-sightedness either!). She was born in the village of Skotelof near Uppsala in Sweden. Her father (who does not have a name in the novel) sang in the church choir and taught Christine to read music before she could read books. He also had a well-known reputation as the best violinist in Scandinavia, and was often requested to play at social gatherings. Christine’s mother died when she was 6 years old, and her father became a travelling musician and took Christine around the country. They were discovered by Professor Valerius and taken to Götheburg, where Christine received her training. His wife, Mama Valerius, treated Christine like a daughter. When the Valerius family moved to France, Christine and her father accompanied them. Papa Daaé did not adjust well to life in Paris though, and often found solace in his music only, locking himself in his room for hours at a time. The only time of the year he enjoyed was their yearly trip to the seaside town of Perros-Guirec, because the ocean reminded him of his native Sweden. Missing his nomadic lifestyle, he decided to once again to spend some time every year as a travelling musician with Christine - which is how Christine came to meet Raoul, who was then staying with his aunt - the one that kindled his love for the sea. Raoul heard Christine sing and was so utterly captivated by her angel’s voice that he started following her around with his governess. One day, at the bay of Trestraou, the wind was so strong that it blew Christine’s scarf into the sea, and Raoul ran after it fully clothed and rescued it. They became friends that summer and played together often, and Christine’s father also gave him some violin lessons.

Bay of Trestraou, where Raoul rescued Christine’s scarf from the sea (image from france-voyage.com)

Both Raoul and Christine loved listening to ancient tales and legends, especially the ones that Papa Daaé told them. Among those stories is the famous “Little Lotte”, who loved listening to the Angel of Music while she fell asleep. It’s a little funny that while they listen to the story, all Raoul does is look at Christine’s golden hair and blue eyes, imagining her as “Little Lotte”, and Christine’s thoughts are focused on how lucky Little Lotte was to hear the Angel of Music. So Raoul dreams about Christine while Christine dreams about the Angel of Music, which kind of foreshadows the setup of the love triangle in the novel.

To be honest, I can’t really blame Christine for thinking she was indeed hearing the Angel of Music in her dressing-room, since the description given fits Erik perfectly:

“No one ever saw him, but he made himself heard to those predestined to hear him. It often happened when they least expected it, when they were sad and disheartened. Then they suddenly heard heavenly harmonies and a divine voice, and they would remember it all their lives. People visited by the angel were left with a kind of flame burning inside them.”

I guess her father couldn’t really find the Angel of Music in heaven, so he sent her the next best thing that was available… Erik might not have been a heavenly angel, but the effect he had on her amounted to the same that is attributed to the Angel of Music in her father’s stories.

After their parting following the first summer that they spent together, Christine and Raoul saw each other again three years later, when they were “no longer children” - perhaps 13 to 14 years old, which would put their first meeting at about age 10 to 11. Professor Valerius has died in the meantime, and Christine’s father has started suffering from a cough. Raoul and Christine’s meeting is a little awkward this time - both seem to be developing tender feelings for each other, but are also very reserved. Their current relationship has now outgrown the sweet and carefree friendship of childhood. Raoul is quite infatuated with her, but he is also badly affected by his jealousy plus the unresolved issue of a peasant girl like Christine not being a suitable choice as a wife for a Viscount - and Christine being acutely aware of that. So yes - it’s complicated between those two. Afterwards, she tries to forget him and dedicate herself to her career instead. But when her father finally dies, her soul and her voice die with him, and even though her talent is still enough to gain entry into the Paris Conservatory, she cannot not bring any more enthusiasm to her studies, and just goes through the motions to please Mama Valerius.

Christine apparently travelled to Perros by herself, staying at the “Auberge du Soleil Couchant”. Raoul is looking forward to speaking to her alone without interference. Despite having sailed around the world, Leroux describes Raoul as “pure as a virgin” and overwhelmed by his love for Christine, who occupies his every thought - in fact, Raoul seems to obsess over things a lot in the novel, not just about Christine. When he finally meets her as she returns from mass, he jumps straight to the point and tells her that he loves her and cannot live without her - which is unfortunately not “what she wanted to hear”. Their conversation goes totally wrong and as his jealous temper gets the better of him, he behaves terribly and they get into a fight (over Erik, of course) to the point where she runs off and locks herself in her room.

Raoul, saddened by the way his meeting with Christine turned out, wanders off towards the graveyard to pray for Christine’s father, and finally sits down, looking out over the moor where he and Christine used to look for goblins when they were children. He never saw any, while Christine always saw lots despite her lack of proper eyesight - which shows that despite both of them being described as “dreamy”, Christine’s imagination is a lot more lively than Raoul’s. She finally comes out to make another try of confiding the secret of the Angel of Music who speaks to her to Raoul, but when she feels he doesn’t take her seriously and questions her virtue, she storms off again, truly angry this time and refusing to come down for dinner.

At night, about 11:30 pm, she finally sneaks out to visit her father’s grave at the Perros graveyard and meet the “Angel of Music” (aka Erik) there. This is obviously the scene which inspired “Wishing you were somehow here again”, though the original context is a little bit different. Raoul climbs out the window and follows her to the graveyard. Raoul’s account of the graveyard scene is given via a transcript of Raoul’s testimony to Commissary Mifroid a few weeks later, after Christine’s abduction. The use of this “source” is one of the things that have given rise to the theory that this is a “detective novel”, however Leroux uses it more like a historian would use a source - it’s just one of different documents that he uses (or claims to use) to prove that his story is indeed true.

Christine doesn’t notice Raoul following her. Her rendez-vous with the Angel of Music is supposedly taking place at exactly midnight at her father’s grave, so Christine is in a bit of a hurry to get there in time. It is still winter, so the graves are covered in snow and lit by the clear moonlight. Christine, who apparently has nerves of steel since she has no qualms about going to graveyards at midnight and then sitting down calmly next to a pile of actual skulls and bones, kneels down to pray when divinely beautiful violin music is suddenly heard, but no player is seen anywhere. The sounds of the piece, the “Resurrection of Lazarus” are so enthralling that Raoul himself is reminded of the legend of the Angel of Music.

When the music finally ceases, Raoul hears a sound from the pile of bones, and assumes that the invisible musician might be hiding there. Christine leaves, and suddenly the skulls start rolling towards Raoul, and he sees a shadow enter the church. He chases after him and manages to grab his cloak, and when the shadow turns around, he sees a terrifying death’s-head with burning eyes which shocks him so much that he faints. I assume that Erik was not wearing a mask here, and that his unmasked face was weapon enough to take Raoul out without any further need for fireballs or swordfights.

The next morning, Raoul is found half-frozen in the little church, and Christine and the landlady of the Inn both take care to revive him.

Historic images of Perros-Guirec from phantomstheater.weebly.com

Artwork by CoatNTails on deviantart

Next Chapter >>

#lerouxreadingguide #phantom of the opera #poto #leroux phantom #gaston leroux #erik the phantom #the phantom of the opera #erik x christine #christine daae #raoul de chagny #leroux

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gothgirlmahi · 5 years ago

Text

Baby Chapter One

Dark!Steve x Reader So this is a dark Steve series because he does a bad thing with good intentions I guess He’s dark but also like...soft. And suffering. Warnings: no darkness YET but this is a story about forced age regression, anxiety/depression, smut, ddlg

Steve pulled you closer by your hips, burying himself as deep as he could in you. He grunted into your neck, painting your insides with his cum. Your thighs were still quivering from your own release while you ran your hands through his hair. He looked at you with a smile, pecking your lips twice before slowly pulling out of you. His arms encased you, gently bringing your head to rest on his chest.

The night air was still and silent, still heated by the embers of your passionate moments. Your lover smoothed down your hair before gently taking you by the chin, getting you to look up at him. Before he even said it, you knew what he would ask.

“Marry me?” His eyes were hopeful, deep blue and sparkling in the moonlight.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips. Before you could reply, he spoke up again.

“Please. Remember that joke you made about early retirement? Move in with me and it can be real.”

“Steve, I don’t know what to say. You keep asking and it’s not that I don’t love you. It’s just I...it’s hard for me to talk about. I’m sorry,” you murmured, pulling away from him. He shook his head, pulling you back down.

“No. Please stay. I just want you to be happy and you haven’t seemed happy recently.”

“Well, my life is going nowhere fast and not even Steve Rogers can fix it.”

“You won’t let me try. You can quit your job. Do whatever you want. I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to worry about all of this.”

“In any case I still have to worry about all of this,” you said, pointing to your head.

Your mental state was all over the place. Some days you wished you were dead and other days you woke up thinking you already were. Dead end job. Your parents stopped talking to you after you dropped out of college. Sometimes your anxiety was so bad you couldn’t leave the house. Steve was understanding but impatient with your reluctance to accept him as your savior.

Steve wanted someone he could take care of. He thought he could sweep you away and fix all of your problems. Lately, he had been one of your problems. Steve wanted to get married. You weren’t sure marriage was in the cards for you. The both of you could barely call yourselves dating let alone ready for marriage. You loved Steve, more than you ever thought you could love another person, but you weren’t in the condition to say yes to a marriage proposal.

You could hardly take care of yourself, could hardly rationalize and make the best decisions for yourself so how could you be expected to do that in a relationship? Steve said you didn’t need to worry about all of that. You could work it out later. He kept trying to push his way into every part of your life, trying to fix it. Not a week went by that he didn’t try to pay your bills or drive you to work or try to get you to move in with him. He mostly just wanted you to quit the job you hated. To become his perfect housewife? You couldn’t be sure.

“You know I love you more than anything, right?”

“Steve, I love you. I really do. I just can’t give you what you want. I don’t want you to waste your time trying to deal with me, trying to make me happier. I want you to be happy. I don’t know if I’m the person that can do that.”

No matter how many times you tried, you couldn’t break up with Steve Rogers. It was mostly selfish. Being with him made you feel almost like things would be okay. There was no one else you trusted more. And he really loved you. He showed it through all of his actions. Even though you thought he deserved better, thought you both should move on, part of you couldn’t help but drag him down with you.

“Any time with you isn’t time wasted.”

He stared at you with that earnest purely Steve Rogers expression and you knew he meant every word. Steve never thought you were a lost cause. He never gave up on you even when you gave up on yourself. That’s why you were so terribly in love with him.

Steve knew a lot of superficial things about you. He knew where you were from, your hobbies, how much you hated your job, etc. One thing he didn’t know about you was what the inside of your apartment looked like. He had never been there. You had never invited him in and to your delight he never pushed the subject. Now that he had been talking about things like marriage and long term commitments, you were starting to think you should share a bit more of your life with him. But you were scared.

Part of you was thinking it was now or never. You were afraid to lose him but also afraid to have a secret like this.

Usually, when you came to visit him, you would stay the night. But tonight you were insistent on going home. Steve obliged and walked you back, holding your hand as the two of you weaved through the dark streets. Just the thought of telling him had your stomach in knots the whole way there. After a while, Steve could easily read your anxiety and stopped walking, taking both your hands in his.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, trying to pull him along but he wouldn’t budge.

“Are you having a panic attack?”

“I’m fine. Please just walk with me.”

He let you take his arm and you held on to him firmly, both your arms wrapped around one of his as you walked.

“Stevie, I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart. Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Yes. Maybe. I’m sorry. I’m just scared. I’ve been meaning to tell you. I just don’t want you to think less of me.”

“Unless you reveal yourself to be Red Skull in elaborate costume, I really don’t think I can think less of you.”

You laughed, but there were tears welling in your eyes. When you got in front of your door, you stopped and turned to Steve seriously.

“Steve, I’m going to tell you something and if you feel like I’m crazy or some kind of degenerate or—“

“You can tell me anything. You know that.”

“There’s this thing I do, like when I’m by myself or—I used to have this boyfriend that did it but it ended badly, but I trust you a lot and I—I’ll show you. Please. Come inside.”

You led him in the apartment and flicked the lights on. When you went to close the door, you leaned against it, trying to calm yourself. Steve looked at your expectantly. This wasn’t the first time you had considered telling Steve so you had a bit of a speech rehearsed.

“Steve, I’m going to say a lot and I need you to just listen. I like it when you take care of me. I like it when we’re in bed and you tell me how good I’m being for you. You make me feel really safe and secure and there are a lot of times when I really need that. I know that sometimes I might seem immature and whiny and this is probably an issue for a therapist, but it’s like I get into this headspace where I need someone to take care of me. It helps me through my anxiety.”

“What more can I do to help you?”

“You do more than enough, more than I could ever ask for. But there just another component and if you think it’s weird, we can just never mention it again. Follow me, okay?”

You led him through the apartment, making your way to your bedroom. The living room and kitchen were rather ordinary. A few pictures of your artwork hung on the walls. Steve recognized a few of the pieces you had shown him.

When you got to your bedroom door, you nearly pulled it off it’s hinges with how quickly you swung it open. In an incredible show of strength, you pulled Steve in the room with you, fully ready for him to call you names and march out of the building.

The room was...pink. There was a lot of pink. A lot of stuffed animals. Some toys were on the dresser. A half completed puzzle was on the floor in the corner. A pink easel sat off to the side. There were stickers of things like cupcakes and crowns and cute cartoons all over the wall.

It looked like a child’s room.

“Uh,” Steve stammered, “I think I understand. I read about this online.”

When he turned back to you, you were shaking with your eyes pointed at the floor. As soon as he came over to hug you, the waterworks started. You cried and apologized, saying you were sorry for not being normal and that he could walk out and you guys never had to talk about it again.

“Honey, look at me. I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m going to support you however you need me to. And this,” he gestured around your room, “is adorable.”

You looked up at him with teary eyes.

“You don’t think I’m a weirdo?”

“Of course not. I just need you to be clear with me on what you need so I can give it to you. You know I’ll give you whatever you want.”

He carried you over to the bed and sat down with you on his lap. His hands stroked through your hair gently, calming and placating you for the time being.

“When I get like this, I need someone to take care of me. To tell me everything’s going to be alright. Someone who will help me do things and not think less of me when I ask for help.”

“And does this extend beyond the bedroom?”

“I would like it to. I kind of like it when you tell me what to do. Nothing crazy, but when you help me take care of myself so like telling me to get up and dressed or remember to do things.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Do you have things you like to wear when you do this?” he asked. You had a few drawers in your closet dedicated to outfits for times like this.

“Yes!”

This was beyond anything you could have hoped for. Steve wasn’t pulling away from you and he didn’t seem disgusted by the whole thing. That might have been because he had discovered it on his own before and had time to understand it on his own terms. But now he was here with you and things were working out!

Steve looked at your seriously, sliding his hand down the curve of your hip.

“Go put on something pretty for me, baby girl.”

You nearly leaped out of his lap and into your walk in. Steve chuckled at your enthusiasm. There was a dress you had been saving for just a moment like this. It was short and pink, coming to just above your mid thigh with plenty of bows and ruffles. You hoped you wouldn’t need your bra or your panties so you left them in the closet. Before you left, you put on a pair of matching stockings.

When Steve saw you, his heart soared. You were always cute but this was something else. Just seeing you happy thrilled him and he beckoned you over to sit on his lap again. You straddled him with a big smile.

“Do you have a safe word?” Steve asked. So far everything the two of you had done was extraordinarily vanilla. Not that it was bad, because it definitely wasn’t, but this was new and exhilarating.

“Uh. Let’s go with Canada,” you decided.

Steve laid you on your back, placing himself between your thighs. He placed kisses all over your face and you giggled. One of his fingers pressed at your entrance.

“You’re so wet. Is that all for me?”

He pushed two fingers into you suddenly and you couldn’t reply. You clenched around him and he smiled, working up a steady pace inside you. Small gasps left your mouth as he fucked you with his fingers.

“Yeah, honey. Just like that. You’re so perfect.”

“P-please can you—aah!” He flicked his hand just right to get you moaning. You tried to grind your hips down to get him to go harder but it didn’t work. He was taking his time pulling you apart.

“Please what, baby? Use your words.”

His thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves. Another finger joined the ones inside you.

“I want you inside me.”

“I am inside you, sweetheart. Don’t you wanna come on my fingers?”

“I wanna come on your cock. Daddy, please let me come on your cock!”

“Anything you want, baby.”

Steve took his shirt off and hung it over your chair. He got up to step out his pants and pull his boxers down. He sat on the bed and maneuvered you on top of him.

“Is this okay?” he asked. You nodded excitedly and put your hands on his shoulders. Steve held you by your waist and lined himself up with your entrance.

You gasped as you slid down on him. This position let him go as deep as possible so it was a lot to handle. Steve was gentle, letting you down slowly until your hips met. His hand rubbed your back and he hushed the whines you made, pressing kisses into your hair. When you were calm, he wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you nearly off of his cock before slamming you back down.

Your eyes rolled back.

You were already close before he started fucking you, but this angle was making you crazy for him. He brought you back down again and you cried out, hugging yourself against him tighter. Steve got a steady rhythm going, picking you up and pulling you harshly down on his cock.

“Such a good girl taking my dick like this. This is what you wanted right? You wanted daddy’s cock?”

All you could do was nod as he rammed into you from below. The noises coming from where you were connected were obscene. Wet smacking echoing through the room. The slapping of skin on skin. Moans escaping your mouth in short breaths. The low rumble of Steve’s grunts of pleasure in your ear.

“Daddy, can I come?” Your voice was a hushed whisper in his ear. He looked at you, eyes fully dilated and consumed with lust.

“Yeah, baby. Be a good girl and come on daddy’s cock.”

He thrust into you one more time and you were lost, mindless as you came. Your orgasm came out in a little gush around his cock while you spasmed on top of him, legs shaking and hiding your face in his neck. The pleasure wasn’t stopping as he continued to impale you on his cock. You could feel your wetness covering his and your thighs.

“I’m close, sweetheart. I’m so close. You’re so beautiful.”

You clenched around him tightly, holding onto his biceps.

“Please, daddy, I want your cum. Please cum inside me.”

Steve pulled you down on him, holding you there and coming deep inside you. There was so much that it spilled from where you were joined and he was still coming. It sent you into aftershocks of your orgasm, panting while he filled you beyond capacity.

When the two of you were done shaking and holding onto each other, Steve threw his head back in laughter, his chest still heaving from exertion.

“I never came that hard in my life. I didn’t know someone could even get this wet. You’re magical.”

You hugged him, breathing in the scent of his skin. His arms wrapped around you, giving you a tight embrace, just how you liked. He held you until you heart rate steadied and pulled out, laying you on your back. Before you could protest, he hushed you.

“I just need to clean you up, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

You pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and he went, coming back with a wet towel to clean you up. Your mind was sleepy and dazed from how hard he fucked you. Completely worn out as your eyes drooped. Steve cleaned you carefully, being cautious of how sensitive you were. He cleaned himself before throwing the towel in the hamper.

Steve settled in behind you, pulling you closer so your back was against his warm chest. He laid kisses on your shoulder and near the back of your neck. You took his hand and laced your fingers through.

“This is good for us,” Steve murmured, into your skin, “now I can spoil you all I want.”

You smiled, holding his hand tighter.

“I love you,” you murmured.

“I love you, too. More than anything.”

...................

Taglist:@xoxabs88xox @momc95

If you wanna be tagged in this series send an ask, thanks for reading!

#Steve Rogers #dark marvel #Dark Fic #dark steve x reader #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n

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yandere-sins · 4 years ago

Text

Knife

Yantober List! Feel free to participate at any point :3

I had some other ideas for this prompt, but now I have some chapters that go hand in hand with each other, so I adjusted it to it! Thank you all for your support on this project, please enjoy this one too! ♥

Rated Lime for some suggestive content!

»»———————————— ♡ ————————————««

In truth, Rhys was never gone.

He stood in front of the apartment door, waiting for you to come out. It was disappointing and embarrassing of you to say you didn’t love him after his confession, even though he was so sure you would feel the same. But at the same time, it was dark, late, and he had nowhere to go either. And so he waited, wanting to see what you’d do. He heard you walking back and forth by pressing his ear to the door, and he reveled in the knowledge that this situation was causing you distress too.

But on the other hand, he wasn’t as worried as you were.

It was basic, simple, society-math that he did, way before you’d even notice it. From the very beginning, Rhys had made you a comfortable place at his side. He made you feel safe and understood, and most importantly: Wanted and acknowledged. You were fragile and lost when Alex was torn away as a safe pillar in your life. Even before that, your friends had started being suspicious of you for how much you went against Rhys - who they knew as nothing but a sweet guy - and when you two had come together, they felt confirmed in their theory that he liked you. You had just played hard to get.

So, in the end, even if they were your friends, they actually were on his side. It surely was dawning on you how alone you were by now, how isolated if you didn’t have Rhys. But that was okay. It was a struggle he’d put on you for the sake of changing the way you were thinking. In his opinion, the end justified all means, and you were a victim to a simple one yet.

Dimming his phone, he only looked at the messages you sent him in your regretful state of mind. The voicemails were saved as favorites, but he didn’t listen to them. He could hear you clearly and well through the door as you were still speaking them. It delighted him to listen to the tiny bit of cracking in your voice, a hint of panic and worry swinging in it as you asked where he was, and for him to come home.

In his hand, the pocket knife clicked as he opened it up and closed it again, over and over. It wasn’t loud enough to really catch the attention of anyone, but it soothed him, knowing he had it with him. Not like he wanted to use that, but he was so curious how you’d react seeing him with it.

As surreal as it sounded, part of him wanted you to dare him to use it. Wanted to see you flee from him. Rhys wanted to know so badly what you’d do, wondering about your opinion if you saw this side of him. If you didn’t love him now, what would you think if he did anything that would destroy the good image he gave you of himself?

There were compelling images in his mind, but Rhys was not a sadist. As much as he liked to know what you’d do, how you’d look, what would happen if, he was happy you didn’t come running out the door. It wasn’t cold, and no time was too long for the reward you were giving him with not leaving, showing him he didn’t need to worry at all. He was right; you were his already. Mind and body, all belonging to him, and he could feel every fiber of his being tingle with excitement.

Going back into his apartment, it was so hard to hide his smile as you ran to greet him. Like a puppy that was so happy that he returned, and you fiddled around him, searching for his attention. He only allowed himself a small glance at you, feeling the bothersome heat in his loins even before he saw you in your sleeping wear. You were right at home, weren’t you?

And Rhys was burning for you to now prove your impatient mess of thoughts that all revolved around him.

He wouldn’t have needed a shower, but he didn’t dare to mess up his chances now by rushing anything. Packing himself up nicely in his sweatpants and top, it was dark as he got out of the bathroom. Still, you reared up as he came out, shuffling to make space for his body, and helping him settle in. Apparently, you were unable to catch any sleep as long as he wasn’t lying beside you. Rhys would have liked to praise you for it but remained composed even while feeling more and more attracted to you than he already was.

However, hearing you say you wouldn’t leave him, just hit differently. Even the most composed and calm man would face a heavily beating heart when his lover told him these words. These tiny bits of submission, of acknowledgment, and dedication to him was enough to make him shiver. Rhys felt weak to the bones as he asked you to prove it, and when you climbed on top of him, that could have been the end of his life, and he wouldn’t have minded it at all.

Faintly he noticed the embarrassment on your face. Still, the meaningful gasp you let out as he pressed himself into you from beneath was enough to get him even more riled up.

Oh, what a pretty, little thing you were, quite so remorseful and helplessly in his grasp.

For another moment, he glanced at the bedside-table, assuring himself that it was still there if he needed it. Next to the phone and a magazine was where he put the little silver thing, sometimes shining in the moonlight and catching his eyes. Rhys wondered if you noticed it too, but every time he moved or touched you, he knew by your reaction that your mind was very much besides wondering what this thing could be.

And for everyone involved, it was probably better that you didn’t know anything about the pocket knife so close to you.

Continue

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researchreferences-probably · 3 years ago

Text

uh so the feels is uh...ok

to me

NOTE: what's written down below is my honest opinion as a fan. Newsflash, as a fan we can also be 'meh' towards our faves works, ok? lol

I have to be honest, when the first-AND I MEAN THE VERY FIRST, teaser came out, everything went bonkers.

youtube

One twitter user was fighting another group stan in a dark alleyway over some useless rank of brand reputation, another one was overanalyzing Dahyun's leggings and the other over Jeongyeon's boots' colors that's different than the others (blue, as expected), another once was aggressively making memes out of the mere 11 seconds of the Drop Spoiler.

All of the actions above are nothing new in Twiceland of course, we are all mentally eel (and we been knew), but it made our wrecked mind even wrecked because the SURPRISE?? A NEW ENGLISH SINGLE?? SOMETING THAT INTL FAN CAN FINALLY UNDERSTAND WITHOUT TURNING ON CC OR WATCHING COLOR CODED VIDEOS?

HECKKKKKK YEA

Then it all kinda went downhill from there (for me at least)

First of all, JYP /eyeroll/ released a statement that Miss Maam Beloved Yoo Jeongyeon can't participate in near future activity of the group because of her anxiety and health problems. Dude...the way that my heart sank knowing our ms maam is suffering somewhere, not feeling well...that made me want to give up badly. What's the point of supporting the group when the reason you're here is not present? But then I remembered the wise words of JY herself that she wanted the group to be forever. That made me happy once again, knowing that JY herself is trying her best and so should I.

Anyway, back to The Feels promotions ಠ_ಠ

The team released a spoiler from the ACTUAL song as a sound on tiktok. I was so excited but also scared because...sometimes you can kinda judge a song's vibe from a snippet. I just hoping the song's is up my alley.

spoiler alert: sadly it was not 100% up my alley 😬

I REALLY TRY TO LIKE IT, but I couldn't (yea call me tasteless or a [insert number here]-anti yapayapayapa--whatever ). It was simply not the kind of song I enjoy casually. But I tried not to be so judgmental over mere seconds of a song's snippet.

Maybe I'll absolutely fall head over heals over the whole song, or maybe the choreography, maybe the outfits ?

...I hate to break it to you bud...the outfits and the MV setting are the only one I like so far, gotta wait on those choreo vid to drop.

This video of Ms Doja Purr sums up my opinion towards The Feels:

youtube

I feel like the production team, the band, the sound mixer, the guy/gal who plays keyboard/drum/guitar or whomever needs to put more work into producing the song??? because it only has like 2.5 lines of musical notes (?) that they used over and over again. It honestly feels like I'm listening to a loop of a 1 minute song. BRO LIKE??? ADD SOME SPICE FOR MY GIRLIES?? PLEASE?

In term of lyrics, I'm impressed with the girls' pronunciation and choice of wordings, like:

"I know love It is such a funny thing A mystery allure Gotta get to know you more 'Cause I, I can feel a real connection A supernatural attraction-ah I got the feels for you, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah"

"Sway in the moonlight, dance in the dark I, I know that I caught your eye Are we on the same vibe? I wonder what's on your mind 'Cause you got me good and I wanna be ya boo If it's dumb, well, I wanna be a fool Underneath the neon lights, baby Electricity tonight, baby"

I MEAN?????

for their FIRST EVER song in ANOTHER FOREIGN language? Plus the fact that NONE of them are english native/fluent speaker (yet)????

That's talent and dedication baybeeeeee !!!! (and also their job, but STILL, THEIR HARDWORK WILL NOT GET UNNOTICED).

So in conclusion,

jyp seems to continue to give the bare minimum to the girlies, they will PAY. But for now, lemme enjoy the good things about the songs and ignore the other bad things.

BUT OOPS JUST KIDDING...

One more twist to this already long rant...

The fan of this group (that I'm also a part of 😔, yes I'm ashamed) made it worse.

It wouldn't be a comeback without us blabbering between ourselves, calling each other maniacs, comparing seconds (UNTIL THE MILLISECONDS, apparently) of MV shots and lines between members.

ISTG some of yall made everything worse. Some of yall are wholesome af and cute and all positive vibes and all. But the rest of yall are sick in the head. I recommend therapy. Get. Help.

Anyways, kindly check the song if you're curious. Although mistreated and broken and bent and could be giving what it was suppose to give, (I'm not going to sugar coat it), it was an ok song.

It is enjoyable (to the least), the MV set is nice, the girls are very pretty & clearly got talent to sing in foreign languages.

Go stream if u want to, don't if you're not feeling like it.

Have a gr8 day or something lol ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

youtube

#Youtube

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televisionboy · 5 years ago

Note

:) I’m super stressed/nervous about starting a new job & Id love some Bill to calm me down. Could I request some after the war headcannons with him:) ❤️hope you are well! Thank you:)

So there are just domestic Guarnere hcs 💖

Special dedication to @contrabandhothead. I’m so sorry you’re so stressed lately 🥺💞

Tag list: @adamantiumdragonfly @raven-has-no-gender2272 @thatsonefishyboi @punkgeekchic @immrssebastianstanwp @3milesup @noneofurbusinez @hufflepuffpancakes @sunnyshifty @meteora-fc @band-of-bitches @alienoresimagines @murphyismybae @we-always-hit-our-ass @wexhappyxfew @deldontplay @lovingunderratedcharacters @fromtheoldtimes @contrabandhothead @tremendousjudgesuitcasestudent @georgeluzwarmhugs @sunflowerchuck @sodapop182 @gorygoryhbowar @speirs-crazy-ass @mrseasycompany

When he left for the war he almost had enough money to live on his own. He has started to move out of his moms house

But then he got drafted and had to leave, he didn’t have a house yet but his mom saved up enough money for him

The first thing he did after he got off the train station with you was find one of his younger siblings picking him up, laugh and hug them and introduce you. Of course he says “my girl”

He bought an apartment with you 2 weeks after coming back to the states, ir was small and a one bedroom apartment. But it was downtown and close to his mothers house

Before he lost his leg, he always used to tell you that Saturday’s he would take you dancing or to Gordon’s. The restaurant downtown that he loved and everybody went to in Philly

But it’s definitely hard for him to even get out of bed some days, emotionally or physically but you’re there no matter what

Sometimes when his leg isn’t hurting as much, he puts a record on and slowly sways with you in the living room, trying so hard to do the romantic dip and kiss you

His favorite dates aside from spontaneous ones, are ordering pizza and drinking beer with him, I mean it’s not really much of a date considering you adopted it as a tradition every Friday night

He loves doing your makeup in the bathroom. One time when you weren’t home, he did a swatch of lipstick on the back of his hand, it was ruby red and he decided that it was his color! You still don’t know to this day that he did that

Guarnere can out drink you in a competition, he’s proved it many times. However you’re always the one drunk and you try to take care of him even as you’re drunk

Oh god, he wants so so badly to have kids. SO FREAKIN BAD. One of the first people he reached out to when he came back from the war, was a doctor. He wanted to talk to one to see if he was able to make children

He has a whole list, front to back, of baby names. The first child? After his grandmother, second child? After his father. Third? He heard the name in a TV show and loved it

He makes the best fucking food but won’t tell you how he makes your favorite dishes (hint: call his mother, she knows everything)

He’s a simple man, maybe a few months after coming back from the war, he proposes. It’s just very classic too. It’s one of those days that his leg feels fine, it’s just his stomach that’s nauseous

He takes you on a date to a nice, elegant restaurant and he starts to stand up which leaves you utterly confused because he doesn’t do that a lot, randomly and tries his absolute hardest to kind of?? Get on one knee

You’re just crying and stopping himself from hurting his leg. He pulls out a diamond ring from his jacket pocket and simply states “I fucking love you, I want to marry you and have kids with you. You’ve been my side through thick and thin and anything in between”

He loves to lay on your stomach and listen to your soft breathing while you read a book and softly stroke his hair, he does this a lot when you’re pregnant

When you come home from work, you always bring in the mail with you and sort through it together, you fucking love getting letters from the Easy men. Mostly they miss Bill and you always rush in the door and into his arms and excitedly give him the letters. Guarnere gets off earlier because he can’t work long hours due to his leg

It’s something he’s insecure about, he only works until 1:00 and you don’t get home until 2:30 you both decided it would be better for him. He’s incredibly insecure about his leg, even as you’re married. He can’t take you dancing or out to bars

One time for his birthday, he wanted to go to the new pub in town but his leg was acting up so while he was sleeping, you made your own bar at home (something my dad did for my mom in their marriage). You told your neighbor about your idea days before and she agreed it was so thoughtful, she got a mini apron and white blouse and when Bill woke up, he was certainly surprised

Every morning, he wakes up first. He makes coffee for the both of you and sits on the couch, reading the newspaper. Sometimes he makes breakfast before you’re up, but it’s a “thing” you two do together, make breakfast. Vvv domestic if I do say so myself

You visit Heffrons family all👏the👏time👏. The children get along and while they’re playing, Babe and Bill usually just talk about whatever while you and Babes wife gossip about your husbands to each other

He has so much PTSD, he’s scared of the snow crunching, thunder, when the dog even wakes up in the early hours of dawn and her collar rattles, he somehow gets frightened. Just let him be little spoon and he’ll be forever greatful. There are days tho where he needs to know that you’re physically there and there’s so spooning, you’re cuddled into his chest kissing his muscles and face and softly cooing to him at 2am

He feels so freaking guilty that he keeps his angel up worrying about him, but whenever he mutters this, you always press a sloppy kiss to his lips and his chest before saying that he looks handsome in the moonlight and turning your back to him so he could cuddle you. And he gives you the biggest heart eyes at his angel ❤️

#band of brothers #bill guarnere imagine #bill guarnere x reader #bill guarnere headcanons #band of brothers headcanons #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine

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seokoloqy · 6 years ago

Text

In Heat | knj (m)

➳ PAIRING: werewolf!namjoon x y/n

➳ GENRE: smut, pwp, a dash of angst at the beginning

➳ WORD COUNT: 4.4k

➳ WARNINGS: oral (f receiving), knotting, slight impreg kink (what kinda werewolf smut would it be without one), rough sex?, dirty talk

➳ SUMMARY: All you really want is a normal relationship. The kind of relationship where he holds you in his arms at the end of the night, but he’s hiding a secret that prevents that.

➳ ALTERNATIVELY: you think he’s cheating but it turns out he’s just a werewolf.

➳ A/N: this is dedicated to all my fellow thirsty werewolf Namjoon enthusiasts who asked for more

—

The topic of ‘mating’ and ‘heats’ was never discussed between the two of you. Frankly, Namjoon wanted to keep you far away from anything to do with werewolves. This dark part of his life, the part of himself that he was ashamed of, often caused a rift between the two of you.

He struggled to keep the truth a secret. Those late nights when he’d come home with his blonde hair disheveled and refusing to touch or even speak to you, made you more and more curious as to what was going on while he was away.

He was never intimate either, only allowing kisses to remain above the shoulder and never straying further past your jawline. His touches were fleeting, timid brushes along clothed skin, lingering, but never brave enough to grab for more.

What was it about you that made him so afraid? Was he with someone else? Was it too painful to love you while being in love with another? Is that why he never wanted to touch you?

You often found yourself wondering that over and over as you lie awake at night staring at the ceiling with him snoozing a safe distance away. You’re not nestled in his comforting arms like normal lovers would, surrounded by his warm embrace.

No, it’s cold on your side of the bed and filled with empty thoughts wondering why he won’t love you the way you want him to—touch you the way you want him to.

It’s Saturday night now, nearly counting down to 10 o’clock. Your head rests on Namjoon’s shoulder, enjoying the rare opportunity to be close to him without his rejection. Relaxing together as a film of his choosing plays on television is also rare. Usually, he’d be out, doing who knows what, until dawn and leave you alone to wallow in your negative thoughts.

His heated hand is idly laying on your thigh, tapping occasionally when he’s lost in thought, brows furrowing as he stares at the screen but not paying attention to what’s happening in the movie.

“What’s the matter, Namjoon?” You ask, observing his twisted expression.

“Nothing,” he brushes off, giving you an assuring smile. “It’s nothing.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry.” Namjoon brushes your cheek, running his thumb along the frown lines forming. His hand is burning to the touch and you snap your head back. As much as you’d like to keep him close to you, you’re more worried about his health.

“You’re burning up. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Fine, I’m fine.” He repeats it as if he’s trying to convince himself more than you. He rubs his eyes, groaning as his palms move against his lids. It sounds like he’s in pain and all you can do is rest your hand on his shoulder.

As he snaps his head back up to look up at you, the sight shocks you.

His pupils are blown up like black saucers, leaving only a hint of the warm brown you’re so used to seeing with a thin ring of gold around the irises. You’ve never seen anything like it before, more curious than terrified of how this anomaly could happen to him.

“Seriously, Joon, you don’t look so good? Should I get you something?”

“No,” he firmly says, grabbing your wrists before you can push yourself off the couch. “All I want is you.”

The hand wrapped around your wrists tugs you into his chest head instantly burying into your neck to get a taste of everything he’s been longing for. He just can’t resist, it hurts too much to say no.

Namjoon’s tongue darts out from his plush lips to lick a long uninterrupted column up your neck and around the shell of your ear. The moan that falls from his lips is the most guttural and sinful thing you’ve ever heard.

It shoots straight to your throbbing core, dampening your panties and forcing you to rub your thighs together to alleviate the ache you feel for him. You’ve wanted him for so long. You’ve wanted to feel his large hands running down your body and to have his mouth leaving hot kisses on your breast.

Despite all the overwhelming lust, the nagging feeling that has accompanied you for so many weeks of his strange disappearances invades your thoughts at this very moment as his hand moves down your arched spine and digs into your ass. It interrupts the sounds of his groans and ramblings of how badly he needs you, how badly he wants to fuck you.

“Namjoon,” you groan, left breathless as he easily lifts you into his lap, forcing you to straddle him. Your aching core presses against his impressively hard cock, brushing against it every time his hips roll into you.

His hand travels between your legs, finding your clit and rubbing circles into you. The rough fabric of your panties increases your arousal as he vigorously moves his fingers.

You whimper into his ear, wanting to get your words out before his fingers find their way into your pants and you’re pushed past the point of no return, “Fuck, Namjoon, we- we shouldn’t…”

It takes everything in you to say it, hating yourself for taking away what might’ve been your only chance to have him to yourself.

He freezes underneath you, no longer moving his hips or pressing kisses down your throat. His numb fingertips gently ease off the bottom of your thighs, allowing you to climb off and collect yourself.

“I’m sorry.” You both say at the same time.

He looks at you, mortified, frightened of what had taken over him. It shouldn't have happened, he shouldn’t have let it get that far. He thought he could control his heat this time around, but you just render him completely vulnerable to his overwhelming desires.

“Shit, I have to go,” he shakes his head, clearing the thoughts of you from his mind.

“Wh-What? You’re leaving again?” You sound broken, afraid you’ve made a mistake in pushing him away.

“I can’t stay here. It’s better if I just leave.”

“Namjoon…”

He’s out the door before you can say what’s on your mind, leaving you yet again on another lonely night.

But you can’t just let it end there. You want to apologize and tell him why you just couldn’t do it, explain how many nights you spent in bed wondering if he even loved you anymore.

The television continues to play as your footsteps follow Namjoon’s out the door.

—

You get a faint view of Namjoon in the distance, making haste into the woods. You know he loves the outdoors because of the many dates he’d take you on, biking along the river or through wooded trails. He never got tired of breathing in the fresh air or wandering through the most secluded parts of the forest with you.

Namjoon must just be heading there to think but you chase after him. As he pushes aside foliage to venture deeper into the woods you try calling out his name but he gets further away.

When did he get so fast?

You’re practically out of breath once you reach a familiar clearing Namjoon brought you to once for a picnic date. The noise you hear is the wind shuffling fallen leaves scattered across the floor and trees rustling, aside from that it’s the rhythm of your heart trying to steady.

“Namjoon,” you say under a sigh.

He noticeably stiffens at the sound of your voice, hoarsely begging, “Leave, please.”

You stand your ground, determined to make him listen to you, “No, we have to talk.”

Namjoon grows more agitated every second he can still feel your presence lingering a safe distance behind him. Why won’t you listen? You’re just so damn stubborn sometimes. “You don’t understand,” he growls, unable to suppress the wolf in him.

He hates this cursed season, where primal urges rise to the surface and he can hardly contain himself. All of his rational thoughts are blurred with the only clear image being you bent over for him as he fucks you full of his cum till your swollen with his pups.

“And what do I not–” You don’t finish that sentence, unable to even breathe as he turns around to reveal those same golden rimmed glowing eyes and elongated canines. Beneath the moonlight, it’s all you can really make out of his twisted features. “Holy shit.”

“Go!” He barks, throwing his clawed hands out gesturing you to run.

You don’t need to be told twice, spinning around and taking off back home where you’ll be far away from whatever beast he has turned into.

It’s doesn’t take long to get back home, locking the door behind you even though it’s futile. He has a key to the house.

As your chest heaves, mind racing with all types of theories about what you just saw, you throw yourself onto the couch to try and relax. The cushions sink beneath you as you lie there motionless.

The claws, the eyes, and his sharpened teeth. What the hell does this mean? You only hear of these features in myths and fables all describing the big bad wolf. But it isn’t real, it isn’t possible. As your thought spins out of control through the night, you drift off into a restless sleep of werewolves and Namjoon.

—

You wake up to the sound of keys jangling against the door and the lock clicking open. Quickly, you scramble off the couch, ducking behind the back as Namjoon enters disheveled as he usually does when coming home from a long night. The kind of disheveled you had mistaken as a sign of his infidelity but now you’re beginning to see things in a whole new light.

“I know you’re there,” he sighs, kicking off his shoes before making his way to the couch.

You stand up, backing up a safe distance from him with the couch as a barrier. “You’re not entirely human, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” he solemnly responds, unable to meet your gaze. “Please let me explain. I promise I will never hurt you.”

You choose to trust him, after all, he hasn’t hurt you once in the duration of your relationship. Why did the truth suddenly have to change that fact?

Namjoon explains everything to you, starting with the late night disappearances. He says that it’s natural to shift and go for runs with the rest of his pack, a term he said could be explained at a later date. Then he spoke of the lack of intimacy he has towards you and how this time of year the desire to mate is heightened.

“Sex,” he says, pausing for a thought, not really knowing how to continue from there. “It won’t be the same with me.”

“Why not?”

He shifts in his seat uncomfortably, “It’s just… carnal a-and rough. I don’t want to hurt you.”

A blush heats up your cheeks hearing him say that. Carnal and rough, huh? It shouldn’t turn you on but you can’t help feel a slight throbbing in your core from his words. You don’t let him know of your arousal, but he can smell you.

Namjoon can sniff out the sweet scent of your arousal pooling between your legs. It takes everything to restrain himself from diving into your delicious heat.

“I should leave,” his voice is strained. “I shouldn’t be around during heat.”

“N-No,” you dart to grab his hand, feeling him stiffen beneath you. You slowly let go, hoping he won’t be as tense if you’re not touching him. “You don’t have to go. I know you won’t hurt me. It’s okay. I want you here.”

—

It has been a few days since Namjoon revealed the truth to you and your relationship is slowly falling back into place. He’s home more, but still reluctant to touch you and you understand it’s not because he’s cheating this time.

However, the words ‘carnal’ and ‘rough’ always echo in your head every time his hand innocently brushes your leg on the couch or his strong biceps flex underneath a plain t-shirt.

God, you’re so sexually frustrated by the smallest things. When you’re absolutely desperate, you’ll go into the shower and touch yourself while imagining it’s him making you come. You’re so desperate you don’t even try to stifle the moans and whimpers, hoping he’ll just lose it and barge in and fuck you right there.

He acts like he doesn’t hear you either, even though you know his hearing is sharper than the average human.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

You’re snapped out of your vivid daydreams, focusing on the starring character of said dreams in front of you with his laptop scrolling through movie options.

“They added some new ones I think you’ll like. Or we can start a new show together. I was thinking–”

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

Namjoon nearly drops his laptop, taken aback by your sudden and blunt question.

“Wh-Why are you asking me this?” He clears his throat, trying to rid the raspiness coming through.

“Because!” You huff, throwing up both hands in exasperation, “You don’t seem to want to. Even when I’m screaming your name in the shower.”

He sets his laptop down on the coffee table, coming to lean over you, forcing your body to sink back into the cushions. You hold your breath as his face comes inches away from yours. His stern expression mixed with the shifted aura surrounding him, from awkward to dominant, you can feel yourself becoming aroused.

The familiar throbbing returns as he runs his fingers through your hair, grabbing the roots to tug your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry lips.

“Of course I want to fuck you,” he growls, “You don’t think I couldn’t hear you calling my name in the shower while you pleasured yourself? Fuck, you drive me crazy.”

“Then why don’t you? I want you, Namjoon.” You shudder, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses along the column of your neck.

“Really? You’re sure?” He pulls back, making sure of your request.

As you stare into his gold-rimmed eyes, you nod, sure of it more than anything in the world. “Yes.”

Namjoon releases your hair to pull off your t-shirt, leaving you in just a bra and panties. You’ve been wearing things that you would hope to get his attention so you stole his t-shirt and wore it around the house, bending over at times to reveal your lacy underwear on purpose in front of him.

He groans seeing your matching black lace set, unable to take his eyes off of your mouth watering body. He doesn’t know what he wants to do next—ravish you or just fuck you until you're completely at his mercy.

“You’re so beautiful and all mine,” he says in awe, falling to his knees before you like a man in prayer, entranced by the black fabric covering your aching core. “I just need a taste.”

Namjoon hooks his hands around the back of your knees and pulls you to the edge of the couch, letting his mouth brush against your bare thigh. His finger slides down the flimsy, thin material blocking him from what he truly desires.

You allow yourself to relax against the cushions, a hand resting on your stomach to calm the storm brewing in your abdomen.

He kisses your thigh, dangerously close to your core, teasing you. He moves slowly until he meets you where you want him most. A puff of air from Namjoon’s mouth being so close to your dripping pussy touches you, the moan that falls from your lips is all it takes to move him into action.

He pulls your thighs apart until he can fit between them and flattens his tongue on your slit, slowly dragging his tongue up to your clit, circling the sensitive bud.

Your jaw slacks, shivering and moaning as he flicks your bud over and over with his tongue. “Oh, god, Namjoon,” you cry, grabbing onto his blonde hair like an anchor as your writhe and to push him further into you. The lewd noises of your wetness and his tongue lapping at your pussy has your chest heaving for air, almost light headed by the amount of pleasure he’s giving you with just his tongue alone.

“So good,” he moans between licks, “So fucking good. All mine.”

You begin to rock your hips into his mouth, unable to help yourself. The knot building in your abdomen strings tighter with each lick and swirl. All the air is knocked out of your lungs once he plunges his tongue into your dripping hole, exploring your clenching walls.

Your back arches off the couch, screaming his name, “N-Namjoon, fuck... I-I’m going to– Oh!”

Namjoon spreads your legs apart further until there’s a burning sensation along the back of your thighs. He delves deeper into your soaking cunt with his tongue, adding a finger to rub your clit.

“Come on my tongue, baby,” he commands in a low growl from the back of his throat.

The stimulation helps you approach your rapid high, jolts of pleasure run through your limbs as you come on his tongue. As white liquid spills from your pussy, Namjoon quickly laps it up, not letting a single drop of you escape him.

He continues to lick despite you having nothing left to offer. He’s not nearly done with you.

“I can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock,” Namjoon groans, licking his lips for any juices he might have missed. “I want you full of my cum.”

Those words alone already have you begging for more, eagerly waiting for him to stuff you with his thick cock, the one you’ve been dreaming about for days now.

Namjoon picks you up, hoisting your legs to wrap around his waist as he walks to the bedroom. You latch your lips onto his neck in the meantime, marking his tanned skin and running your hands over his well toned back as his muscles flex holding up your weight.

Once he enters the bedroom, he lays you down on the mattress, locking you between his legs and unhooking your bra to fling it to the other side of the room. He places kisses down your chest and between the valley of your breasts. His hands reach to cup one in his warm hands as his mouth latches onto your other nipple, swirling it with his tongue and lightly scraping it with his sharp canines but careful enough not to make you bleed.

As you arch your chest into him, he releases you from his mouth with a pop and removing his other hand causing you to whine from the loss. Instead of giving into your cries, he kneels over you on the bed, reaching up to pull his shirt off to reveal more of his tanned skin.

Your eyes scan his exposed chest, already dying to leave marks against his smooth skin. Your hand reaches for his belt, hastily unbuckling it to reveal more parts you’re dying to see.

When you manage to spring his engorged cock springs free it’s like nothing you’ve seen before.

Oh, fuck. How is that supposed to fit?

He must see the worry in your eyes as he shucks off his pants, returning to the role of caring boyfriend and not a hungry wolf.

“You sure you still want this? I'll understand if you–” he rambles.

“S-Shut up, Namjoon. I want you,” your breathless whisper is needy and ready to be ruined by his cock.

That seems to snap him out of the initial state of worry and back to the golden-eyed predator that has clawed its way back out.

“Then get on your stomach, baby.”

Seeing the darkened stare above you filled with nothing but lust and carnal desire has you flipping over in no time, dripping with anticipation as you position yourself ass up and ready to receive him.

“F-Fuck,” you curse, feeling Namjoon’s thick cock press against your ass. Your face falls back into the pillow, muffling all your moans as his large hangs grip your waist to put you in position. Your knees dig into the mattress as he moves your hips higher in the air.

“You think you can take all of me, baby?” Genuine care lacing through his gruff voice, suppressing the part of him that just wants to snap his hips and bury himself into you without warning. He wants to stretch you full of his cock until you’re nothing but a babbling, whimpering mess beneath him.

You crane your head back over your shoulder, meeting his heavy gaze.

You knew what you were getting into when Namjoon said this would be different with him. After he confessed that he was a werewolf a couple days ago, you were stunned and, honestly, a little scared. A werewolf?

But after the constant reassurance that he would never hurt you, you trusted him. The truth didn’t make him any different, he will always be the man you fell in love with.

When the topic of sex came up, he was reluctant to share with you the details, only admitting that it was something more primal than what you’d be used to. You understood, after all, he is a werewolf. But seeing him now, sweat dripping down his temples and pupils blow until all you can see is black pools swimming with desire as he stares down at your bare body bent over for him, you get what he was talking about.

“I trust you, Namjoon.”

That’s all it takes for him to breach your walls, hissing from the tight fit around his cock.

You bury your head into the pillow, crying out as he slowly pushes into you. He’s so big and the stretch burns, but in a good way. The way that makes you shift your hips down to take more of his cock in.

Your eagerness doesn’t help with Namjoon trying to restrain himself from slamming into you. He tries to hold back but once he hears your quiet plea for more he can’t help it anymore, thrusting all the way until your filled to the brim with his cock.

You scream his name, chanting incoherent babble, anything that falls from your tongue. You feel so full, so full. It’s hard to adjust to his enormous size. He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever been with prior, so much more pleasing as well.

Namjoon allows you to take a moment to adjust, waiting for a cue to move. For now he waits an agonizing long breath, as he watches your eyes screw shut with a single tear sliding down your cheek. Seeing that tear only makes him want to pull out of you and hold you safely in his arms.

“Please, move,” you grunt, digging your face back into the pillows and letting your fingers curl around the corners.

As Namjoon slowly moves his hips back, your muffled moan has him thrusting back in quicker than before. It seems as if something snaps inside of him as he fully enters you again and you clench around his length. His pace is animalistic, just as he said it would be, brutally plunging back into your abused cunt over and over as cries and curses escape you.

“You’re so perfect,” he groans not even sounding like himself, just like a wolf in heat. “You’ll look so good filled with my cum and swollen with my pups.”

You moan, too turned on by the wolfish side of him speaking to comprehend what he’s really saying. “Y-Yes, fuck,” you groan, moving your hips back to meet his powerful thrusts in the middle. The sloppy and slick sounds of your sweaty bodies meeting and mixing with both your moans are like a sinful song you both move in sync to.

His hand sneaks between your legs to locate your clit. That mixed with the overwhelming feeling of him hitting you in all the right places and filling you up, gets you to your climax quickly. You come all over his cock, breathlessly moaning his name and completely collapsing into the bed with only his hands on your hips to support you.

You’re spent and absolutely exhausted, unable to move another muscle beneath his rapid thrusts. You feel another orgasm building despite the Earth-shattering one you just received. The sensitivity you feel with each snap of his hips increases until you’re whining for him to slow down, but he doesn’t.

Instead, his pace is quicker, harsher, and only driven by his own need for release. He releases a ragged groan as he approaches his climax, commanding you to do the same, “One more time, one more, baby. Come all over my cock for me like a good girl.”

It doesn’t take more than one final thrust to have you crying out again and spilling all over him.

As you clench around him, you start to feel his cock swelling, stretching you and filling you to the point tears begin to well up in your eyes.

“Ah,” you cry, curling your fingers around the sheets to deal with the burning sting. “W-what the hell?”

It seems like Namjoon is just growing inside of you and he finally comes with a harsh groan, filling you up with his cum, coating your walls white. As if you didn’t already feel full before from the ballooning of his cock, his cum seems never-ending.

It’s hard for you to move because of how much discomfort the swell causes every time you to and shift. Namjoon doesn’t try to move his hips, trying not to cause you any more shooting pain.

“Shit,” he mutters, slowly shifting so he can position you against his chest as he lays down. He pulls your back flush against his sweaty chest, soothing you gently by running his hand over the small bump that has grown where you two meet. “I should have warned you about knotting.”

“Yeah, I think that would’ve been something worth mentioning,” you joke, hissing when you try and move your hips to find a comfortable position.

“Don’t move.”

You try to relax pressed against his bare chest with his arm wrapped securely around you. This is what you’ve been missing. You’re no longer a cold distance apart from one another, instead, you finally have the warm embrace from him you’ve been longing for.

Slowly the knot in you begins to deflate, making it easier for him to slip out. Namjoon makes sure to keep his cum in you though, plugging you up with his fingers and forcing your legs shut.

“You did great,” he whispers in your ear.

“I think we should do this more often,” you nod, giggling as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

“How about right now?”

#bts #bts smut #namjoon smut #btssmutclub #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btsguild #namjoon fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bts drabbles #bts scenarios #bts reactions #namjoon x reader

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im-the-king-of-the-ocean · 5 years ago

Note

Punch in the gut prompts, Whiterose 17 “I want you to say anything! Scream! Yell at me! Just something to show you fucking care.”

So I sort of messed up in that I didn’t use the dialogue line exactly. I intended to, had it in, but then I went back and wrote a beginning to build up things a little more and the tone shifted a bit. Parts of it are still sort of there, just altered.

(tho it’s still hurt/comfort feat. Whiterose)

Together, We Blossom

The fire flickers low. Weiss fidgets. She wants to put another log on. To make things warmer, but the tenseness in the air keeps her in her seat. She’s not certain she wants to be the first to move. To draw attention to herself.

“I…” Ruby speaks. All eyes gathered turn to her.

Weiss watches Ruby’s face scrunch up with emotion. She doesn’t have a chance to see which one. A flurry of rose petals bursts from where Ruby sits. It flies out of the room. Ruby is gone.

“I got this.” Weiss stands. She hadn’t been adding too much to the conversation anyway. She can’t bear the thought of leaving Ruby be when she’s hurting. She won’t.

When Weiss walks by her, Yang grabs her wrist. They make eye contact. Their conversation is brief and entirely done through silent facial expressions. Weiss nods. Yang releases her and sits back. Unbeknownst to the others, a promise has passed between them.

Weiss leaves the room. The hallways of the Atlas house General Ironwood gifted them are silent and dark. The night sky through the windows provides little in terms of light.

The echo of her own footsteps unnerve Weiss. The emptiness here reminds her so much of the Schnee family manor. It’s hard not to imagine that she’s back there. Weiss never wanted to return to Atlas. She sighs. When she gets to Ruby’s closed door, Weiss buries the feeling. She knocks.

No response.

Weiss knocks again, a little more firmly. She tries to slow her breathing. If Ruby isn’t here…

Again, no vocal response, but Weiss hears something shift inside the room and a telltale ‘owwie’. She takes hold of the doorknob, twists, and opens the door.

Ruby’s room somehow manages to be darker than the hallway. The only light, the gleam from the distant moon outside the window. It takes Weiss’s eyes a moment to adjust, but, when they do, she notices a person-sized lump on the bed.

“What do you want, Weiss?” Ruby’s voice is uncharacteristically toneless.

Weiss’s resolve to stay calm and collected almost dissipates. “I wanted to see if you were alright. You sort of ran out. I know this is hard and—”

“I’m okay. Thanks for checking on me. You can go now.”

“Ruby.” Weiss steps into the room.

“I said I’m fine, Weiss.”

“Look, it’s okay if you’re not.” Weiss advances another step. “This is hard on everyone. We all need support every once in a while.”

“I said GO AWAY!” Ruby slams her fists into the bed. The movement causes her to jerk forward, so her face is in the light from the hallway. She recoils back, but not before Weiss sees the trails her tears left.

Weiss purses her lips. “I’m not going to do that. At least, not before you tell me what I can do to help.”

No response. Weiss waits.

“I—I want you to say…” Ruby trails off. “I don’t know.” The second statement is barely more than a whisper. Her voice abruptly rises, “Scream! Yell at me!”

Weiss sees Ruby’s hands clench back into fists. Her nails digging into the palms of her hands. Weiss winces. That looks like it hurts. It is wrong. So wrong. She wants to run to Ruby, to stop her. But she doesn’t want to push Ruby further away. She’s never seen her hurting. Not like this. Not this badly.

Weiss can’t, she can’t lose Ruby. It’s selfish. It’s juvenile. But, she can’t. Not after everything. Not while knowing they have so far left to go. Not like this.

Weiss doesn’t truly know where she stands in the fight against Salem. She’s not Blake, with her convictions to change the world for the better. Or Yang, with her dedication to protect her family. She’s here because, well, because seeing Yang in Raven Branwen’s camp had been a huge relief.

Without Winter in Mistral, Weiss had been uncertain, scared. She knew she couldn’t stay and let the bandits send her back to Father. Yet, she didn’t know where she would go next either. Yang had given her a sense of direction, of purpose. Yang was heading to Ruby, so Weiss would too. And honestly? There was no better place for her to be.

Learning everything, though, about the truth of the world, made Weiss feel small, insignificant. Grimm aren’t just mindless beasts of destruction. They have a mistress, and a true purpose. There is a being who hates humanity so much that she won’t rest until she sees them wiped from the face of the planet. Salem will destroy anything and everyone, regardless of whether or not they stand in her way.

In the face of all that, Weiss can’t lose Ruby. Not when Ruby makes her feel less alone. Less isolated. Less cold. Less like an ice queen.

The nickname is, and always has been, a joke, sure. But there’s always been some truth to it. Before Beacon, Weiss pushed the world away. She’d shut everything out. Nothing wanted her. Not as she truly was. Only what they wanted her as, which was so far from the truth that the facade could have been another person entirely. Weiss had built her walls to protect herself. To be herself.

Until Ruby. Ruby with her warmth, her smiles, her laughs and her jokes. Ruby who could melt the icy exterior Weiss armored herself in, but in such a gentle way that it never felt like her safeguards were being destroyed. Ruby who she missed, and longed for dearly, every day back before they reunited.

Salem would destroy Ruby, just because of the eye color Ruby happened to be born with.

More than anything else, that’s what keeps Weiss up at night.

“I care so much.” Ruby’s voice is quiet. Much quieter than it usually is. Somehow that’s worse. “But, don’t you see, Weiss? That’s the problem!” She hiccups. Weiss can’t see her new tears, but she can hear the sobs Ruby fails to muffle. “That’s why I have to go! To keep you safe! I can’t let you—I can’t let anyone else—” The cry escapes. Ruby gives up trying to hide it. Tears stream. Their trails glitter in the moonlight. “Don’t you get it, Weiss?! They’ll always hunt me! Because of my eyes! Of what I can do!” She wails. “And they don’t care who they hurt to get to me.” She pulls her blanket up over her head and cocoons herself.

Weiss sits down next to Ruby. She inhales. Exhales. Pulls the blanket down off her partner’s head. With her thumb, Weiss wipes the tears away from Ruby’s eyes. She pulls her sleeve over her hand and uses it to dry Ruby’s face.

“I know. We all know. And none of us are going anywhere. That’s our choice to make.”

“But, I—”

“Ruby, do you know what would break my heart?” Weiss interrupts. “If you were attacked and I, or Yang or Blake, weren’t there. We’re a team. That means we stick together.”

A spark of Ruby’s normal self returns. She lets out the quietest of laughs. “Isn’t that what the team leader is supposed to say?”

“Well. I think even our fearless leader needs reminding every now and then.”

Weiss wraps her arms around Ruby, who doesn’t hesitate to snuggle into her embrace. She presses her lips to the top of Ruby’s head. A soft kiss. A reminder of love freely given. Weiss listens to Ruby’s breathing ease. She places a hand on Ruby’s back as it rises and falls. A reassurance to herself. Ruby is still here. Still breathing. She hasn’t lost her. She won’t loose her.

“Would you like me to stay?” Weiss whispers. She feels Ruby nod against her in reply.

Weiss settles against the pillows. Ruby reaches for one of Weiss’s hands, which she intertwines with her own. With her free hand, Weiss strokes Ruby’s hair until she eventually drifts off to sleep.

#rwby #whiterose #ruby rose #weiss schnee #whirls writing #first time writing this ship #whoop!#loved it #rockymountainvixen

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skamfrance · 6 years ago

Text

youtube

Interviewer : You can find SKAM on france tv and on other platforms.

Hi Axel!

Axel : Hello!

I : How are you?

A : I’m great, what about you?

I : Axel, how do you manage to have this much energy? I know people usually ask me this, but you’re currently on tour all around the country with your show ‘Une vie sur mesure’, and not ‘Une vie meilleure’, as I’ve been saying (mumbled, i don’t understand the rest of his sentence). ‘Une vie meilleure’ is a movie. I confused the two of them.

You’ve just finished filming season 3 and 4 of SKAM. We’ll explain the special format soon, you filmed both seasons together. You’ve just come back from filming a movie and you’re going back tomorrow. How are you living? What’s going on?

A : Listen, it’s cool, you have to enjoy it and I’m really happy and aware of how lucky I am to be able to live out my childhood dreams. But I’m also aware of how ephemeral it can be and that you have to work. You have to enjoy your opportunities but also be aware that everything can be over tomorrow. You have to live everything out as much as possible. This is insane and amazing.

I : And how old are you, Axel?

A : I’m 21.

I : You’re 21. I’d like to say, I’ve seen the first two seasons of SKAM. I just saw the last two, or at least the 3rd one, the leaked episodes. Leaked episodes? No, the ones that came out.

This season is amazing. First of all, we’ve been waiting for LGBT representation for a long time. We can find them after 18 years old, but not never from the point of view of a high school life. I know it’s been good for a lot of young people, I’m thinking about the kids from Le Refuge (French LGBT organisation that’s a shelter for LGBT kids who’ve been kicked out of their homes) who are listening to us. Just for that, congrats on having had the choice to do this role. It’s not an obvious choice for lots of actors. I know it was never a problem for you, but it is for a lot of actors.

On a technical level, this season is extraordinary. The use of lights has nothing to do with first two seasons. I’m only saying that because of cinema fans who might have skimmed over the first two seasons. I’m telling you, this is on another level. I was amazed - not that I didn’t like the first seasons-, I was amazed by this one.

When you got the script, did you know it was well above the first two seasons? Did you realise it? And did you understand that it would be so good on a technical level? The technical work on the lighting is great, especially considering the fact that I know you have really long filming days. 8... 18 usable minutes per day?

A : No, no, it’s about 12 to 14 minutes minimum.

I : Why don’t you explain to us the SKAM experience, after this onslaught of questions?

A : I at least felt, not that it was gonna be above, far from it, but that it was gonna be different. Because for one, for the first two seasons, David Hourregue, the director, and even the writers, we’d signed a contract with France TV... I mean, ‘we signed’, I didn’t sign anything, but they signed the fact that they really had to stick to the original, be the same narrative framework, be close to the original script, and the camera angles, and the story.

So they had this constraint of the Norwegian version in this french adaptation.

I : It was crazy, a huge success over there.

A : And I understand that! It talked about the teenage years and really important matters.

I : With a different tone.

A : With a different tone, not overly emotional. And in this third season, from the beginning, David... David Hourregue, the director, who’s a magnificent conductor, to be able to make 14 usable minutes of footage every day, it’s truly... He’s an amazing team leader, and always with benevolence. He knows how to direct each person with different words, but always in an admirable way... Uhm, he immediately set his conditions, meaning he really wanted this season to be true to his vision, he wanted to be able to change some things from the framework, so that it wouldn’t be a copy and paste from the original.

So right from the beginning, when he showed me the script...

I : Had you seen the original version?

A : Yes, I’d seen it. I’d seen it. And it reassured me too, because it’s true that the characters came from us a lot more, he took inspiration from us because he knew us, to write the characters and to write Lucas’ evolution.

I : He’s a very dreamlike character, he’s a bit like you. We’ll talk about it later.

A : Do you think so?

I : Yeah. He’s a bit like you. There are a lot of differences, but I think he’s a bit like you, in regards to the poetry or the dreamlike quality... He’s someone who could be from the 18th century, the 19th century...

A : That’s nice.

I : It’s a compliment!

A : I’m glad I came!

I : Did you work on... When you got the script, did you tell yourself, ‘okay, when it come to gay representation, or just the representation of a high shcool, love story, but between two guys...” Did you need to look for other movies, or novels? Did you do research work on this? Did you just go on the set spontaneously, as an actor, without any research beforehand.

A : No, no there was research work before. I saw Call Me By Your Name, I saw Moonlight, I saw The Office. Not for the LGBT representation, but for references David wanted me to have. I also did a lot of preparation with Maxence Danet-Fauvel, who plays Eliott.

I : He’s amazing, the two of you have an incredible chemistry.

A : He’s a genius, it was a really beautiful meeting with him. We got very lucky, and we did a lot of work beforehand to have this chemistry, and to know and trust each other. So that when we got on the set, we could just let Maxence and Axel go and really be in character. We trusted the whole team.

You were talking earlier about the photography, and I would like to thank Xavier Dolleans, who’s doing amazing work. He’s an unbelievable operating chief. To do 12 to 14 minutes of usable footage everyday... I don’t know if you guys realise this, it’s truly a lot...

I : 12 to 14 minutes, it’s 12 to 14 minutes of scenes that can be used in the cutting room. Usually, it’s 2 to 3 minutes in movies and 5 to 7 minutes for tv shows. It’s a lot.

A : And to be able to have this maturity with the light, and...I saw him manage his team and it’s really a fantastic team, and it was a team which was dedicated to this story, and everyone really wanted to...There was a week when we did at least three hours of overtime every day.

And there was really a thing where every one was carried by the same energy, and to really...give life to this story, which we all thought was beautiful, and the whole team was really motivated and that also really contributed to the fact that we really had fun, we really enjoyed ourselves, and it really has been a crazy experience to live as these characters and to live this story.

I : And did you know...did you see what we call the rush combo (??), did you realise that from a technical standpoint it was superior? I’m really impressed by the editing, the filming, the music. I actually texted you about this when I watched the episodes. I really liked seasons 1 and 2, but here, we’re clearly at the next level, especially since I know you were filming 18 usable minutes a day, which is huge. Did you realise that you were going to the next level?

It’s promising for seasons 5-6, which are coming soon.

A : No, season 4.

I : But you’re filming seasons 5-6 soon, right?

A : Uh... No. Not that I’m aware of. I might not be invited.

I : Oh, well, we’ll talk about it. So, for now, season 3 is filmed and season 4...

A : Season 4 is also filmed.

I : It’s also filmed.

A : But for seasons 5-6, we don’t have any news yet.

I : Yes, but it’s so successful, it would surprise me if you didn’t... you have to say it’s really successful. It’s even more successful than the first two seasons if I’m not wrong. I know you’re humble and won’t say it. I’m telling you, it’s smashing everything on the platform.

A : Yes, it’s crazy, and we’re so happy. We see people’s reactions, and we get messages in which... young people tell us it can help them, give them confidence, show them they’re not alone. An we realised, and I realised more and more while we were filming, while trying to live this story, how difficult it could be for young people today. That it was still relevant.

I : What do you mean, you realised it?

A : Because the character ends up having to lie, to hide his feelings...

I : Did you meet people, I’m thinking about all those young people from Le Refuge who are listening to us.... Did you meet young people who... Because, in your life, you’ve met people who...

A : I met people around me, I have friends who... I have a friend who came out two years ago. And to see how the way people look at you can change too, people who said they were your friends and suddenly turn their backs on you...

That’s something that’s very violent and I never had to live through. I saw it through my friends. And there, I was at the center of the story, and even if it wasn’t my life, when I got on the set, and I was Lucas and we were filming scenes where things were going badly, I realised what this could be like in real life, at least at my scale.

And I also realise how important it is. That’s why the message from the show is that, even if society gives more and more importance to assholes who think they have a right to judge other people, well, you’re not alone, and love prevails, love will win and you have to be proud of who you are.

You have a right to love a girl, to love a guy, to change, and it’s really important to say you have a right to do that, and that a love story like Lucas’ and Eliott’s is beautiful, and that’s what you should remember.

I : And have you gotten... I know we had Medhi Meskar for the show Les Engagés (french web serie about LGBT activists; it’s amazing, you should watch it) and he said he got quite a few messages from young gays from the Maghreb, I got some when I was on Clem (another tv show). Have you gotten messages... you blew up and social media recently and you deserve it, I’m really happy for you, but did you get messages from young people saying thank you?

A : A lot, yeah! And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about! We started the show, and that’s true... Maxence and I had a drink together, which ended pretty late... And we told each other the purpose of the show was to have an experience above everything else and on top of that, to help even just one young person to be able to accept themselves to realise they could and should be proud of who they are. And when we get messages like that, it feels like we’ve won everything. Because this crazy experience lasts longer, and seeing what the show’s impact on people can be is amazing.

I : What did your work on this show teach you as an actor? How did it make you grow as an actor? And did you have time to look at the technical parts? I know things go really quickly on this show, but the technique is so amazing, did you take advantage of that to see how an operator works etc?

A : So, I’m super naive about technique, to be honest. I know we used the same camera as Avatar. I mean, the same model. Beyond that, I’ll admit I don’t really know... I learned that... I mean, I learned... it went really fast, so you had to be in it right away. And I was lucky, I was in every frame of the story, so you had to be quick, go from one state to the other. It was real work, getting on set and already having all of the script in your head, what moment we were shooting, to know that if I was shooting the scene from episode 9 before the scene from episode 4, to know what had happened before the episode 4 scene even though I’d just shot episode 9. It was a lot.

I : How did you do it? Did you have a notebook?

A : I did have a notebook and post it notes each day with what had happened before, what my relationship was with each character at this point, what I was thinking when I got there etc. It was a lot of work before shooting.

#skamfr #skam france #axel auriant

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in-arlathan · 5 years ago

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These Stolen Moments

More Solavellan fanfiction, yeah! <3 ______

Time period: During DA:I Characters: Female Lavellan (Elenara Lavellan), Solas, Leliana Pairing: Solavellan Chapters: 1/1, Length: 2,971 words Rating: PG-13, Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: One night at Skyhold, Lavellan finds herself unable to rest. Trying to find peace in the Inquisition library, Solas seeks her out to offer some comfort.

A/N: Like many Solasmancers, I thought the relationship between him and Lavellan deserved at least one more cut scene. But since the game didn’t give us that I spun my own little fantasy and transformed it into fanficition. It’s much more romantic than the stuff I usually write, but it made me happy so I wrote it anyway. I hope you enjoy it. <3

You can also read this on AO3.

______

The castle was quiet at last. She couldn’t recall the last time things at Skyhold had been so peaceful. Ever since the Inquisition had taken refuge in the old edifice, the courtyard and corridors had been bustling with people. Even the gardens, a place dedicated to silent contemplation, was filled with an on-going hum of conversations and prayers.

Elenara stood in the door that led her quarters in the Inquisitor’s tower and breathed a sigh of relief. She had grown so accustomed to the noise that she almost forgot the comfort of silence.

In her youth she would often steal away from the camp of her clan to seek out the quiet places in the forest. She would look for clearings or a patch of grass by a water course where she would lay down and stare up at the lush canopy and the bright blue sky beyond. In these moments, she felt the vastness of the world that made her sorrows seem small and petty by contrast. She would close her eyes and just listen to the rustling of leaves or the distant songs of birds and allow herself to just be.

How much simpler life had been back then.

Elenara readjusted the stack of books she carried with her and began walking down the great hall.

Once, she had listened to the voices of nature. Now, all she could hear was the sharp metal shriek of blades, the commands bellowed by Cullen and his officers, the battle cries of thousands upon thousands of Inquisition soldiers. And the prayers, of course. More prayers than she had ever heard before. Even at night she could hear the faithful calling out to her. Not much else seemed to exist, but the crushing burden their words carried to her.

So, she was glad for these rare moments of silence. She enjoyed the soft hissing of wind slipping down the hall, as well as the crackling of dying flames in the fireplaces.

She reached the door on her left that led to Skyhold’s rotunda and opened it. The circular room beyond was dark, just like the rest of the castle, and a pang of disappointment hit her. A small part of her had wished Solas would be awake, still working on his mural, but he was nowhere to be seen.

It’s alright, she told herself. You’ll see him tomorrow.

At least she hoped she would. Her entire relationship with Solas – if one wished to call it so – had been a constant back and forth between them. First, she had kissed him, but felt like she messed up. When she tried to withdraw from him, he held back and kissed her in return. Much later, he would come to her, admitting to having not forgotten what had happened between them, just to walk away from her. But not until they had kissed once more and he had said the words that turned her world upside down completely.

Ar lath, ma vhenan.

Her heart skipped a beat every time she remembered this moment. She was not certain if Solas had spoken in Elvish on purpose to conceal the meaning behind his words, or if he did it because he knew she would understand. Either way, she was very much aware of the meaning behind his words.

I love you.

Elenara felt her throat go tight. Solas was a mystery to her, one she would gladly like to figure out. But it would take time and if there was one thing she didn’t have in abundance, it was just that. For now, all she knew was that, if he’d stayed but a moment longer with her on that balcony, she’d told him how much she loved him in return.

You can wonder about this some other time, she thought, chiding herself like a child. Concentrate on what lies before you.

Letting out a sight, she crossed the room and slipped through the door to her left. Her steps echoed on the stone walls as she climbed the stairs to the rotunda’s upper floor.

The library was silent as well and the candles had been put out a good long while ago. Luckily, she knew where Helisma kept the flintstone she used to light them.

Elenara placed the stack of books on the chair Dorian usually occupied during his studies in the library and hurried over to the researcher’s desk. With only soft streaks of moonlight to illuminate the room, she had to fumble around before she found what she was looking for. With the flintstone in hand, she returned to Dorian’s reading nook and lit the candles on one of the candelabras. Their golden glow was soft and subtle, but it was enough to help her read the titles.

She turned to the pile of books and picked the one on top. It was a massive tome with golden letters ingrained on its cover and spine, an old Tevinter text Dorian had recommended to her to help her understand the inner workings of his homeland. The writing was so dry and tiresome, it had taken her ages to get through the text, but it had provided some insight into the cultural shift from the worshipping of the Old Gods to the Chantry, and that was good enough for her.

Scanning the spines, Elenara searched for the spot where the book was kept on the shelves. Thanks to Dorian, all of the books at Skyhold were sorted in alphabetical order which made the task of returning them to the library much easier. When she found the gap on one of the shelves where the Tevinter tome used to be, she put it back and returned to the rest of her stack.

She had just grabbed another book when she heard something. For a second, she believed it was a soldier or a servant walking from the tavern across the courtyard, but she dismissed the idea quickly. The sound had been much closer and much softer, not like the heavy cluck of booted feet.

“I see you are still awake,” someone said.

She whirled around on instinct, her senses on alert, her body ready to fight. Only then did she recognize the elven figure that moved closer from the other side of the library.

“Solas!”, she exclaimed and let out a sigh of relief. “Good Creators, you startled me!”

He chuckled softly as he stepped into the circle of soft candle light. The golden glow covered his face with stark shadows. “I’m sorry, vhenan,” he said wringing his hands. “I didn’t mean to.”

She let out a long, shuddering breath.

“It’s alright,” she told him with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Where did you come from? I thought you’d already gone to bed.”

“I was out on the balcony for some fresh air,” he said gesturing towards the door through which he’d entered the library. “Then I heard footsteps and concluded that it was you, so I came to see if you’re alright.”

“You knew that it was me … by my footsteps?” she asked, baffled.

“Of course.” He said. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s just… something a hunter might do, not a mage.”

“You should never underestimate my tracking skills, vhenan.” A sly smile tugged at his lips. “I survived on my own in the wilderness for a good long while, after all.”

For a moment, he seemed incredibly young. It made her think about a conversation she’d overheard back at the Storm Coast. She and the rest of her party had been tracking down a group of red templars that sought to gain a foothold in the area, when Blackwall and Solas had started to exchange war stories. She remembered the Grey Warden being delighted to share his experiences with another soldier, and also rather perplexed.

“For all your experience, Solas,” Blackwall had said. “You don’t carry yourself like a soldier.”

And Solas had beamed at the elder man. “Oh, you should have seen me when I was younger. Hot-blooded and cocky, always ready to fight.”

She’d never admitted to Solas that she, too, had had trouble picturing him as a warrior in full armor. But now … with this smile …

It made her want to kiss him, badly.

“Why are you still awake?”, she asked quickly.

“There was something wrong with the tea”, he replied and pressed his lips together for a moment. “It was caffeinated and kept me awake long after dark. Well, keeps me awake”, he clarified and looked around the empty library. “I am still waiting for the effect to wear off.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said and gave him a warm and soothing smile. She knew Solas found comfort in the Fade just like she used to find comfort in the old tales and legends of her people. Without it, life was much harder to endure.

“What about you?” he asked, looking at her intently.

She weighed the book in her hand and hurried to place it back on the shelves. “Couldn’t sleep either,” she admitted and was surprised by how tired she sounded. “There is just… so much to think about…”

Solas took another step towards her. Before she knew it, he reached around her with his left hand and placed it on her lower back. The faint smell of his skin lingered between them. Her heart jumped into her throat. Suddenly, she was very aware of his presence.

“If you like to share your thoughts with me, I’d be happy to listen,” he said in a quiet voice.

She coughed and looked away to avoid his gaze. His eyes were filled with such longing that it was almost too much to bare.

Studying the tomes on the shelf beside her, she said: “I’ve been reading all lot of these books lately. I had hoped to find some answers in the old text, but all it did was made me think. How can anyone do justice to this world? How can you set everything right, seeing all the bad things happening to good people?”

She sighed. “How am I supposed to do all this?” she asked in a much lower voice. Her throat went tight with grief and the crushing feeling of responsibility.

A saturnine look crossed his face. “I don’t know if I can provide a satisfying answer to your questions,” he said. “I’m not sure if anyone can. All we can do is trust in your capabilities to lead this Inquisition, for better or worse.”

Her lips twisted into a sad smile. “I was afraid you might say that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, looking more troubled than she had ever seen him.

“Don’t be,” she replied. “It’s not like any of this is your fault.”

His hand on her back twitched ever so slightly, but she noticed it anyway. These days, she seemed to notice everything about him. The slight changes in his moods, the way he carried himself when he thought no one was looking. Even the expression of serene joy and delight when he was working on his mural. He was a miracle with a thousand little details and she wanted to know each and every one of them.

“Is there something on your mind?”, she asked. “You seemed to be on edge these last couple of weeks.”

That must be the biggest understatement in all of history, she thought to herself. Solas was always on edge, especially when he was alone with her.

“It is nothing to concern yourself with,” he said evasively and his gaze flicked to her lips. “My troubles will pass, one way or another.”

“Is there anything I can do to lift your spirits?” she asked teasingly.

“A kiss might be a good way to start,” he admitted after a short silence.

Elenara raised her eyebrows in surprise. Did she hear that correctly?

“Come here, then,” she said softly and turned until they stood face to face. Her heartbeat quickened, as she placed a hand on his cheek. He let his hand slip from her back to her waist, bringing up the other one to hold her tightly.

“It would be kinder in the long run,” he’d said the last time they kissed. Since then, his words had made her wonder what he truly meant. She knew there was something between them, he had admitted it himself. Yet, he was determined to not give in to his feelings for her. But why?

Was it because she was Dalish, still?

Back in Haven, he had confessed to her that the Dalish had attacked him on sight and that he had no desire to get in touch with the clans any longer. His words had caught her like a kick to the stomach. Though it had not been her own clan who had attacked Solas, she knew it might has well have been them. She herself had fought off countless bandits in her time as a hunter.

Yet, she knew that the clans were only protecting themselves and more often than not, they had good reasons to be suspicious of strangers. But the thought of Solas being wounded by a Dalish arrow had left her feeling guilty and distressed. She wanted him to see the many admirable attributes of her people in the faint hope it would make him feel less lonely. To show him that there was no reason to be afraid of them.

Of her.

“My heart,” she breathed, caressing his lips with her thumb. She smiled at him, then guided his face towards hers. He allowed Elenara to brush her lips against his, while he drew long breaths through his nose. And she drank from him, relishing the taste of his mouth.

When she was out of breath, she pulled back ever so slightly, resting her forehead against his. Letting out a quiet satisfied moan, she let her hands slide down to his chest. He was breathing just as heavily as she was. His chest heaved under her touch.

“I enjoy kissing you far too much,” he said with a soft smile. His breath smelled of honey and herbs, sweet and delightful.

Elenara tilted her head to look at him. Was that regret in his voice?

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

His cheeks colored. “Oh, no, that’s not what I meant,” he hurried to say. “It’s just... I’m not …”

“… used to it,” she said, finishing the sentence for him. “I know. We should do this more often, then.” She let her lips touch his once more. It was not a kiss, not quite, but it set her body on fire nonetheless. “Besides, I enjoy kissing you, too.”

She pulled him closer and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His body tensed and for a moment it seemed like he wanted to flee from her, but when she opened her mouth and deepened the kiss, he finally relaxed. Accepting the invitation, his lips parted and his tongue entered her mouth.

There was the passion she’d first experienced back in their shared dream in the Fade. It washed over her like a rising tide, almost sweeping her off her feet. She returned his kisses with the same fire, losing herself in the embrace. She couldn’t tell if his hunger was greater than hers or if it was the other way around. All she knew was that they both wanted more, fully aware of the fact that no kiss would never be enough.

“I want you,” he whispered.

His body was radiating heat like a bonfire. She wanted to take it all in, even if she might get burned in the process. All her life, she had waited to meet someone like him. Someone that made her feel alive.

“I want you, too,” she said and kissed one corner of his mouth. He sighed softly, his eyes half-closed. It was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard in her entire life – and she wanted more of it.

With the greatest effort, she let go of him.

Elenara took his hands and squeezed them gently. “Come with me,” she said, nodding in the vague direction of the Inquisitor’s tower. Up there, in her chambers, they could continue what they had started in a more private setting.

“I don’t think…”

“Lady Inquisitor!”

She flinched.

That was Leliana’s voice!

In an instant, Solas parted from her and took a step back. The lack of his warmth right next to her hurt more than she would like to admit. “Don’t…” she gasped, but Solas simply shook his head.

“You have other matters to attend to.”

She knew he was right. If Leliana needed to speak to her at this hour of the night, it must be important. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

She only hoped her face didn’t look as warm as it felt.

“Goodnight, Inquisitor,” Solas said in a casual tone and took another step back. He bowed ever so slightly just when Leliana reached the top of the stairs. The spymaster stopped dead in her tracks and watched as the elven apostate turned on his heels and headed in the opposite direction.

Elenara felt like her heart would tear apart at any moment, when she forced herself to look at Leliana. “How can I help you?”

Leliana stared, as if she had forgotten, why she wanted to speak to Elenara in the first place. Her eyes were fixed on the doorway through which Solas had made his exit.

“Leliana?”

The spymaster blinked, her focus returning to Elenara.

“Oh, yes! I’m sorry” she said and squared her shoulders. “I have news from Halamshiral, my lady. You should look into this.”

Right back in the mess, Elenara thought as she followed Leliana up the stairs to her office.

__________

Thanks for reading. <3

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #solas #lavellan #female lavellan #solavellan #in relationship #solas romance #fluff #mild hurt/comfort #elenara lavellan

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ladykateofledfordpark · 5 years ago

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A New Future (Jaime x MC)

This fic is inspired by Day 5 of the Choices August Challenge hosted by @cora-nova !

After too long, I finally wrote a Jaime fic. I missed his relationship with Charlotte. =)

Dedicated to @mariaoz , my beautiful friend who came into my life thanks to Jaime! And @itsbrindleybinch , my talented writing partner! <3

Tagging also @lady-kato @jlpplays1 @desiree-0816 @flyawayboo and @meepmeepmeep ! Every one of you is amazing, and thank you for your support!

Day 5 Prompt: Cosmos

Pairing: Jaime x MC (Charlotte)

Summary: Jaime takes Charlotte to a special place, where they sit and talk while making an important decision about the future.

Unedited.

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

“Jaime, where are you taking me?”

Jaime squeezed Charlotte’s hand. She glanced at him in confusion, but he couldn’t let her know where they were going. Not yet.

“It’s a surprise.”

He led her to the car, and after a short drive they arrived at their destination. Charlotte smiled when she noticed their surroundings. They stood atop a tall cliff overlooking a beautiful lake, a beautiful mountain standing across from them. The stars twinkled in the night, almost as they did then, so long ago.

“It’s beautiful up here.”

Jaime smiled. He took her hand, his warmth sending tingles down her arm. Charlotte blushed, and for a moment she felt exactly as she did a year ago: uncertainty took the reins and her nerves went haywire. Why was she like this?

“Remember when we camped together? Just you, I, and our families?”

Charlotte laughed. “That was a nightmare. I was so nervous the whole time.”

Somehow, it was even worse now.

“Why?”

“Well, I had this crush on a guy, so camping with him wasn’t the most appealing idea.”

Jaime chuckled. “Well, I’m sure this guy was just as nervous.”

They sat at the edge of the cliff. Jaime pulled Charlotte closer, his heat the most comforting feeling Charlotte experienced. She sighed in content and lay her head on his shoulder, sighing in relief.

Jaime started playing with her long hair, just like they always did ever since they were little. “Char, I think I’ve loved you even then. On that camping trip, when we looked at the stars, I wanted to kiss you so badly. The problem was that I was sure you never felt for me that way, so I was forced to keep it inside.”

“Well, I did friendzone you only a few weeks before. Which was stupid, if you think about it.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed. “Why?”

Charlotte opened her eyes. She shook her head at the fond memory, laughing at the mistake she regretted for years to come. “I friendzoned you right before I realized I had a crush on you. That knowledge tormented me for years.”

Jaime’s eyes twinkled. “Really? How did I never notice?”

“You’re just as dense as me, apparently.”

Jaime pulled her even closer. “Apparently.”

They gazed silently at the view. It was so beautiful, the silence of the hills, the quiet of nature. Charlotte snuggled into Jaime as she listened to the chirping crickets and the still waters. It was as if, for once, the world truly was at peace.

“You see the stars?” Jaime broke the silence. His voice was but a whisper, his body as relaxed as hers.

Charlotte nodded. Jaime smiled before he cupped her face. “They can’t even rival your beautiful eyes.”

His eyes searched hers, as if looking for something there. Charlotte looked at him, searching desperately for words she couldn’t find. How did he always manage to steal all thoughts from her mind?

“Jaime… I…”

“I love you, Charlotte. I’ve loved you forever, whether as a friend or something more. You’re the highlight of every day, everything beautiful in this world. You taught me to open myself to this world, so long ago, and I can’t thank you enough. You’re everything to me.”

Charlotte gently cupped his cheek. “I love you too, Jaime. Without you, life would just be dull and colorless. I can trust you with anything, anything at all. Whether mind-reading abilities or other, more stupid secrets. You’re always the first person I’ll call.”

Jaime lowered his head. His lips gently brushed Charlotte’s, and she closed her eyes once again. He kissed her gently, sweetly, just like their very first kiss so long ago.

She sighed as Jaime gently brushed her cheek with his thumb, her body automatically coming closer.

“Char, can you please keep your eyes closed? I have a surprise.”

She nodded hesitantly. Jaime kissed her forehead once again before his warmth completely disappeared.

Charlotte frowned. “Jaime? Where are you?”

“Turn around and keep your eyes closed.” Jaime requested, his voice slightly uneven.

Hesitantly, Charlotte did. It was a bit strange, doing it with her eyes closed, but she did it anyway. Because she trusted Jaime with all her heart.

“Charlotte, on that first day of our friendship, I never knew how much you would change your life. You changed me, transformed my world. You were the first light of this new life I found myself in, and you were with me at all the other lights I lit. Never in a million years did I think I would be this lucky, but somehow I’m still here.”

He took her hand in his, comforting warmth passing through her at the touch. “I love you, Char. I’ll always love you, every second, every minute, every hour. I can’t imagine my life without you, and I dare to hope that with you it’s the same.”

Somewhere, in the midst of all her thoughts, Charlotte heard Jaime’s voice. Open your eyes.

And when she saw Jaime he took all her breath away.

“Charlotte, I’ve thought about this for so long. At first I wasn’t sure, but now… well, I guess somewhere I always knew.”

Jaime swallowed. He fingered the ring which shone in the moonlight, its beauty nothing compared to the love in his eyes.

“Charlotte, will you marry me?”

She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t say a word. Instead she put her other hand on top of his, and slowly guided the ring to her finger.

And then, somehow, she found one word. “Always.”

Jaime carefully slipped the ring onto her finger. Charlotte gazed at it, it’s silver band with intricate carvings, simple, unique and beautiful. Just like Jaime, who always reminded her how beautifuly simple life could be. How wonderful the world was when people stood by your side.

Jaime pulled Charlotte up, so they were now looking once again at the view. This was the place where they shared their first kiss, opening the door that led to a beautiful future. This was the place where Jaime, after so long, finally asked her the question she wished to hear.

“It couldn’t be more perfect.” Charlotte whispered. Her eyes met Jaime’s, and a faint blush rose to her cheeks as a smile smile rose to her face.

He shook his head. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

She met his eyes, a mischievous and adoring twinkle in his eyes. “Why?”

“Because,” Jaime pulled her closer, “it isn’t you. You are the only perfect thing in this world, Char. Everything else pales in comparison.”

And when he kissed her, Jaime promised her everything Charlotte never needed. Because now he was hers and she was his.

Forever.

#choices #playchoices #choices stories you play #Jaime lewis #Jaime x mc #Jaime lewis x mc #mc x jaime #mc x Jaime lewis #choices fanfiction #wishful thinking #choices wishful thinking #choices wt #wt #wt jaime #wishful thinking fanfiction #choices august challenge #coranovachallenge

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aliypop · 5 years ago

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Eye’s Without A Face

So this is a bit of a trial story between Yonah (my oc) and John Constantine based off of two Billy Idol songs, It was pretty fun to work with the concept of a Young John so with further ado enjoy! (I honestly recommend listening to both Rebel Yell and Eyes Without A Face while reading they’re both good songs!)

Word Count: 2,393

Warnings: Abusive past relationship, feels trip

A/N: some parts are based on a RP with @demonologist-jconstantine

Last night my little dancer came dancing to my door

Last night my little angel came pumping on the floor

"Drinks on me," Catalina said sitting next to him, John had yet again found himself at Gothams elite club the kitten's corner where the alcohol was hot, but the girls were hotter,

"You're too kind!" one of the men at the bar said touching the young woman, she looked as though she was about 19 years old at most, but then again he wasn't that old himself he was only 25, but that wasn't the issue, he had cares he wanted to get rid of.

"Only to the ones I adore.." Catalina said sitting in the young man's lap, it was a routine that the Owner, her girlfriend Myra trained her to do, be seductive and the money comes flowing in, She had to make them want her and know that they couldn't have her,

She said, 'oh come on baby, I got a license for love!

And if it expires, pray help from above,

But there was one man she had her eyes on, he was a regular that much she knew, yet something was telling her to be courageous tonight. As she made her way to him, John could only see the looks of an Angel walking her way to him or at least he thought,

"Come here often?" she asked, sitting next to the empty seat beside him,

"Yeah.." he replied, trying to keep his eyes on his drink,

"You're not much of a talker, are you?" she asked, looking at his features, "Has anyone ever told you, that you look a lot like Billy Idol," she suggested as he looked up at her,

"I usually get told Sting," he smirked at her, "But thanks love," he said, picking up his guitar from beside him, he knew to ask her for just one night with him would give her just as much heartbreak then she could endure, "Wait.." her big brown eyes staring up at him, as she placed a hand on his thigh. "Stay.. " she asked, rubbing slow circles "For me at least,"

"Innit something love, I was gonna ask ya the same thing."

She don't like slavery, she won't sit and beg But when I'm tired and lonely, she sees me to bed What sets you free and brought you to me, babe What sets you free, I need you here by me,

"Catalina sweetheart," Myra said walking towards her, gripping on her arm hard,

"Yes snookiecakes?" she replied, John, snarled at the other woman before taking his guitar and walking out the club, he never liked being apart of drama besides he had his own to deal with, "What were you doing with that blond man.." she squeezed her arm harder, "You're hurting me.." she looked behind her noticing that he was gone.

"What did I tell you about "Your ways" " she asked as her girlfriend only trembled in fear of her,

"Y- You'd kill me.."

"Excellent love, now get your sexy ass in the back someones waiting for you." her smirk sinister.

I walked the ward, for you, babe

A thousand miles, for you

I dried your tears, of pain, babe

A million times, for you

Coming from the closed building was a dripping wet and badly bruised woman, John who hadn't let yet was smoking a cigarette as usual, under the Gotham moonlight when he saw the young woman walking towards him bloody and beaten it nearly broke him,

"Shit .. do you need help?"

"No need to fuss over me." she turned away from him, revealing a fresh cut on her neck.

"Let me at least help you?" he offered her his hand.

"How do I know I can trust you?" she asked glancing at him, then at his hand, "How do I know you're not like them?" she pointed towards the club, as she turned her back towards him, he noticed something on the back of her leather jacket.

"She's a fan.," he mumbled to himself.

"What was that? " she asked him wanting an answer to her question,

"Names Constantine, John Constantine .." he said, her face in complete shock, "Yeah, the one from Mucous Membrane love." he winked at her, "And what about you? "

"I'll tell ya when the times right." she cracked a little bit of a smile at him, "I love a girl of mystery" he smiled leading her back to his car to get her some help,

I'd sell my soul, for you, babe

For money to burn, for you

I'd give you all, and have none, babe

Just to, have you here by me, because

"Yonah.." she mumbled, as they drove back from the hospital, her head laying on the window of his car, the city lights passing by as the radio played softly behind them a bit of 80's rock,

"Hmm?" he said, he was in his own world contemplating on maybes and what can be,

"My names not really Catalina, it's Yonah .. Yonah Shanel Wayne.." she sighed as he blinked at her,

"What's a rich girl like you doin around someone like me then?" he asked with a cheeky grin, "Innit unladylike for a girl like you to be-"

"I'm a rebel myself," she smirked, her hand on his chest, as she snapped her fingers lighting his cigarette with it, biting her lip the moonlight illuminating her perfectly,

"Do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now? "

"Depends on what's in it for me, Mr. John Constantine."

In the midnight hour, she cried more, more, more

With a rebel yell, she cried more, more, more

I'm all out of hope

One more bad dream

Could bring a fall

"Maybe one day in my dreams, I'll find that perfect person." Yonah joked as she was sitting on the floor of their shared hotel room,

"Well, you must be dreaming, cause I'm right here," he said, watching her strum a few chords on her guitar, it had been a few months since they met and the two couldn't be happier, or so she thought

"Hey don't think about her," he tilted her chin up,

"I see you're letting your hair grow out," she said, strumming the guitar again looking away from him, "You're changing the topic love, " he teased, trying to get her to pry open, but nothing would work she was always dedicated to writing new music and performing alongside the band, and John knew it, but he didn't want to lose her to his hectic world.

When I'm far from home

Don't call me on the phone

To tell me you're alone

It's easy to deceive

It's easy to tease

"Go on tell me you don't love me," Emma said to him "John..." she said, as he hesitated,

"I.. wish I could say-" and with that he watched her leave out of his life,

John had his secrets that he didn't want to talk about, one that he thought he hid very well, but apparently not enough,

"Yeah, I've been thinking about cutting it," he said standing up as she still kept going with the blasted pink guitar, "Look when you're ready love, talk to me.." he said as she said absolutely nothing to him,

(Les Yeux sans visage)

Eyes without a face

Got no human grace

You're eyes without a face

"John," she said, hours had passed, and it was dark out. She couldn't find him anywhere, and then it hit her, he'd be exactly where he always was on a Saturday night. Somewhere at a bar, putting on her leather jacket and heading outside she saw something that she wished she hadn't, lips locked together, hands wrapped around another woman's waist was John Constatine,

"Well, I guess I should go .." he pulled away from the other woman as he turned his head to see Yonah running off crying, "Shit.," he mumbled to himself knowing he had a lot of explaining to do,

I spend so much time

Believing all the lies

To keep the dream alive

Now it makes me sad

It makes me mad at truth

For loving what was you

"Yonah what are you doing?" he sighed, watching her pack,

"Maybe we're just meant to be alone.." she turned away from him, "I thought I could trust you... I thought I could love you .." as he walked towards, her she only began to back away, "let me explain!" he asked,

"I gave you, your chance and you stabbed me in the back with it!" she growled using her fire powers as he blocked it, catching her off guard, "How did you ..." she looked up at him, a bit confused but intrigued,

"It's a long story .."

" Well, I would have listened if you didn't," she was stopped by the taste of cheap booze and cigarettes, her words caught in her throat as her eyes closed shut, feeling the heat between the two rise, John lead her over to what felt like a bed behind her, her head landing on a pillow, "John.," she whispered still a little mad at him.

"Yonah you have no idea how much I need you, in every shape of the word, emotionally, physically .." he smiled seeing her crack a smile too, " and at this exact moment, sexually," he whispered in her ear,

"Are you trying to seduce me?" she asked, "Cause it's working.." Yonah smirked kissing him hard,

When you hear the music, you make a dip

Into someone else's pocket then make a slip

Steal a car and go to Las Vegas

Oh, the gigolo pool

Hanging out by the state line

Turning holy water into wine

Drinking it down, oh

I'm on a bus on a psychedelic trip

Reading murder books, trying to stay hip

I'm thinking of you and you're out there, so

Say your prayers

"Pull over let me drive magic man," Yonah laughed sitting in the passenger seat of the possibly not stolen car, It had been a year now that they'd been together, they were partners in occult crime and becoming lovers at the next, "I'm sure I'll last a couple hours," he began nodding off, "Are you sure about that?" she asked, "You were nearly beaten by a bloody demon!" she said as he pulled over to a gas station, letting her take over,

Pulling over in a motel for the night, Yonah couldn't help but worry about John, feeling beside her, she noticed that he wasn't there, looking outside the window, he was sat outside playing the guitar.

"It's three in the morning, what's on your mind?" she asked, taking him by the hand,

"The fact I love you.." he mumbled, "Just never mind don't matter what I say really," he sighed turning away from her,

"You're thinking about her aren't you?" she asked,

"Why don't you get some rest.." he kept strumming away,

"Maybe a trip to that one vegas pub could help?" she smirked.

"Well, would you look at that, it's John Constantine been awhile mate... " Chas said, as he then looked over at Yonah, "Who's the girl?" he asked,

"Yonah .." she smiled, "Nice to meet ya.."

Now I close my eyes

And I wonder why

I don't despise

Now all I can do

Is love what was once

So alive and new

But it's gone from your eyes

I'd better realize

It was another moonlit night in Gotham, Yonah was sitting on the rooftop of Wayne Manor strumming her enchanted guitar, it was something she did when she was missing a certain demonologist, bright lights were shining from a car turning into the driveway of the said mansion. "You know there's a certain tug right ere," he said pointing towards his heart "When ya miss someone so bloody hard," he shouted from the rooftops just so she could hear him, "Why don't ya come down Juliet," he smirked watching her flip off the building and land on her feet,

"Impressive..." he mumbled to himself,

"What brought you to Gotham city Romeo.," she asked, noticing his new change of clothes, she was 25, and he was now 35 figuring out the whole demon business still,

"You did, I was driving an suddenly I know I'm headed towards Wayne manor," he kissed her, "It was that damned Guitar of yours.." she kissed him back laughing hard, the taste of a life she missed once more lingered, "You wanna maybe go out for a few drinks or something.." she groaned looking to see the Bat-signal "Good for nothing hero ! " she shook her fist at it,

"What about our old spot on 7th street?" he suggested as she got in the car.

"You know me so well," She said looking over at him, "Treat to myself for sobriety for a year, when you left I.." she stopped talking as he held her hand "I already know what happened,"

When they arrived at the bar it reminded him of the night she first walked into his life, Gotham cold air blowing, and gothic buildings everywhere, Yonah placed her hand on top of his, "It feels like it's been ages, you and me alone. everything just has gone wrong since I made my return and when it hasn't it's been press conferences and the damn spotlight in my face everywhere I go!" she slammed her fist

"I missed the taste of you on my tongue, the way you feel so smooth and hard an-" she then stopped talking,

"You really do miss my lovin." knowing that she meant the whiskey rather than him, "Well, get your ass out the spotlight then,"

"I can't, it's in my name, the way I walk and talk." she sighed, " I was born into it, to be wild and free the daughter of a playboy millionaire.."

"Runaway with me then, Hellblazer.." he winked looking back at the door "We could go to Florida, fall in love, "

"We can't John, I'm not a rebel like you." she sighed, seeing Alfred outside the pub window,

"I thought .."

"I'm sorry... I can't.."

You're eyes without a face

Such a human waste

You're eyes without a face

"Love you.." John sighed,

And now it's getting worse

#fanfiction #oc x canon #John Constantine #yonah shanel wayne #DC comics

5 notes · View notes

kittae · 6 years ago

Text

Nocturne (M)

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Words: 9.2k

Genre: Smut, a dash of greek mythology, fantasy, male nymph!Yoongi

Warnings: Graphic sexual descriptions, magical intoxication, virgin!reader, unrealistic depictions of sex inside water

summary: The world, human as well as divine, would rather forget about a shocking scandal that occurred amongst the gods, and so they also forgot about the beautiful, but cursed creature that had been conceived through said event. This caused him to live a solitary life, one where the gentle breeze through the leaves, the chirping birds in the trees, the koi in the springs and the fireflies in the night established the only form of companionship. And then, he felt your eyes on him

A/N: FUCKING FINALLY! this fic has been long overdue, as i have been tweaking and rewriting this since last year! I’m very happy i can finally share this with you guys. Since this is a different approach, some experimenting with my writing style, i hope it doesn’t disappoint and that you can still enjoy it!

special thanks to @vankoya and @tayegi for reading it over and giving me advice! @trbld-writer , @thules , @sydist ( stella idk if you’re still active on tumblr rip :( ) i’m sad the collab from which this fic originated never happened, but i’m dedicating this one to you guys!

MASTERLIST

You never knew air could hurt until the moment it burned through your lungs as you sprinted as fast as your feet could carry you and then some. You ignored the burning acid rising up your throat and stomach, the twigs smacking into your face and the thorns scratching at your legs, rushing to just run empty-headed with no sense of direction or where you wanted to go, as long as it was away. To say you were lost was an understatement.

What else did you expect, dashing barefoot through the night and into the woods with the moon and the stars as your only guide and light source. Every few minutes, you could hear wolves howl in the distance, your nightgown sticking to your damp skin when you broke out in a cold sweat on top of the hot one induced by the long run. It sounded like they weren’t too far off, and you started to wonder if you’d really chosen the right option out of the two you were presented with.

Burned alive at the stake or ripped to shreds by a pack of wolves?

You’d never believed in the tales and legends of your town. They were often even more ridiculous and fantastic than the fairytales you'd grown up with. Yet, it could’ve been one of the reasons why they accused you of witchcraft. That, and the fact you knew your way around healing potions and herbs. When you had managed to cure a child who was on the verge of dying from a severe illness not even the best doctors knew what to do with, you had gotten the label practically slammed onto your forehead. But you know what they say; no good deed goes unpunished.

They came for you in the night, forcefully breaking down the door of your humble house with the intention of making their way to your chambers to capture you. To make you their prisoner and most probably torture you all night to force you to answer questions you didn’t know the answers to. However, you were always one step ahead. The barricade in front of your door didn’t serve to keep them out as much as it did to buy you some time. Time to climb out of your window and escape from the back. Time to bolt towards the only place you knew they would never follow you.

The haunted forest.

The people loved to pass on tales, tell the stories their parents had told them whose parents before them had shared with them, and so on. Legend has it that this forest was structured like a labyrinth and harbored an ancient soul. One that somehow ensured anyone who ever dared to enter the forest never came back out. No, people didn’t come here. They haven’t for centuries, until you. Then again, you weren’t one to believe in old wives’ tales, especially not those told by the same mouths that accused you of witchcraft.

The forest appeared harmless enough aside from the usual threats of wild animals and losing path. There was no sign of the air bearing the suffocating pressure the townspeople often spoke of, nor was your vision clouded with thick fog rising from the dirt. None of the horrors you’ve been told were present in these particular woods and this only motivated you to rush deeper into them.

When the flickering yellow lights and loud, threatening shouts of the torch-bearing crowd seemed to have died out behind you, you knew they went no further when you did.

All sounds had turned to silence aside from your panting breaths in the air and the dull sound of your feet hitting the soft soil, and finally, you deemed it safe enough to catch a breath.

Another spine-chilling howl pierced through your nerves, and even though your feet were sore and chapped, twigs and stones occasionally digging into the bare soles, you found yourself striding the opposite way of the sound that made your skin crawl. The more distant it became, the more you found yourself relaxing, the pace of your restless steps turning languid as the realization you'd probably escaped death twice tonight started to kick in. You felt exhausted, if not from the long run then surely caused by the whirlwind of emotions you got put through in the last couple of hours, the adrenaline rush finally dropping and leaving your body to be completely spent. You wanted to lay down so badly, sleep for a bit and recover your strength, and when the woeful cries of the canines had come to fall completely silent, the thought started to feel all the more tempting.

The moon stood tall and bright, its beauty seemingly only reaching your eyes now you were no longer focused on surviving the night. With its perfectly round shape and white glow, you were almost tempted to believe in this thing called magic, this thing your fellow villagers prosecuted you for.

As on cue, a small swarm of fireflies emerged from between the flowerbed a few feet further, emitting a comforting and warm, yellow glow that lit up your path like little stars. Slowly treading through the field of blooming bluebells, a hundred more tiny lights appeared in the air and surrounded you. You must've disturbed them by stepping through the flowers, but what a sight it was! What tragedy it must've been if the villagers got to you and you'd never have witnessed this indescribable beauty. And just when you'd convinced yourself this had to be the most breathtaking phenomenon you'd ever behold, you heard it.

Suddenly accompanying the nocturnal silence came a mesmerizing melody, humming from the distance and weaving through the forest to reach you. Those tones of allure and love incarnated were spellbinding; composed to fog the minds and feast on the hearts that listened to them. The little flying lights seemed to change formation, forming a long luminescent ribbon as they followed the sound. Afraid to lose your tiny stars and incredibly drawn to the foreign song in the distance, your feet were moving before you could think about where they were going. The music filled your head until there was nothing else left, your heart swollen and bursting with an inexplicable desire, throbbing with a yearning unknown to you. You felt what could be described as entranced, thoughts about how strange and suspicious it was to hear such soft and lovely melodies in the middle of the night, so deep into the forest, not once crossing your mind. You could only take in the swaying notes, leisurely being carried by the midsummer breeze, hushing you and convincing you not to question why they were there in the first place.

Your little lights unexpectedly came to a stop, where they left their ribbon formation to spread themselves out and float over a small spring a little further down. The sound of a gasp falling from your lips got interrupted by your breath getting caught in your throat first, your hand promptly covering your mouth when your eyes grew the size of the moon above you. There, waist deep and naked in the spring, was a man so beautiful you finally started to wonder whether this had all been just a very vivid dream. Hiding behind the nearest tree you could find that was broad enough to conceal your shaking body, you leaned against the stem to steady yourself as your knees turned weak and trembled in shock, trying to calm your hammering heart that threatened to break through its cage.

Still, you couldn't seem to tear your gaze away, even when the sight before you pained you so mercilessly you thought you'd collapse. Never in your life have you witnessed such sublime beauty before, such majesty exuding from a person as if he might as well be a fata morgana.

The silver beam of the moon paid him absolute tribute, his slender muscles and tightening tendons a kind of delicate strength rippling underneath a coat of untouched, unsullied ivory as if he was bathing in the white splendor of the moon instead of the dark waters of the lotus lavished spring it was reflected in. His hair matched the shade of onyx the night carried and the contrast with his skin was that of the one between the sky and the moon.

Although you were facing his back, you felt like you were being watched. Being watched as you were watching him while he continued to scoop up palms of shimmering moonlight, the droplets making his pearl pale skin illuminate an almost blinding brightness in seemingly utter ignorance of your mere presence.

The soft clattering of the small waterfall into the spring continued as undisturbed as ever, as if your heart hadn’t just plummeted to your stomach, your body stiffening up entirely at a foreign voice calling out to you.

“Would you have yourself standing there behind that tree and spy on me for the rest of the night or will you at least show yourself?”

The voice sounded lovely like the melodies that brought you here, soft and clear and more than slightly enthralling, in contrast to the words that made your blood run cold. Screwing your eyes shut, several bated breaths passed for you to register the question, and another five to remember that you were being expected to answer it. He’d seen you. The tension was thick in the air as you felt his eyes on you the same way you’d been scrutinizing him only moments ago, even through the with thick bark covered stem that concealed your shaking form. You felt like you couldn’t move at all, even if you wanted to. Your heart went frantic inside your chest, almost painfully so while you stayed put behind the tree that was the only thing that currently prevented your legs from giving out underneath you. You had to stay there, pretend he couldn’t see you, call bluff.

“Are you afraid?” the same soft and tender voice asked again, speaking directly to your hammering heart and tempting it to give in, “I promise, i bear no intent of hurting you.”

You drank those words in like sweet nectar, letting them sink into your soul to stir longing and curiosity there, swaying your screaming instincts telling you run once more that night to make place for a more comfortable feeling. How could such magnificent beauty, in any way, be something bad?

“Let me lay eyes upon you, too.”

The warm honey of his voice trickled down your chest with every word, clearing the last of your doubts. While words still could not find their way to your throat, your feet dared to take a single step away from your vegetal hideaway, revealing the white of your dress and the colour of your hair to this perfect stranger. Not so much fear, but rather bashfulness held you back from approaching the delicate beauty of this raven haired vision. Silly old you, in your ripped and dirtied nightgown, hair tousled and tangled and still bathing in sweat. Were you allowed to present yourself like this in front of such a stunning man?

He did not ask a second time, disregarding the fact he never asked in the first place. Instead, he carried on creating embellished melodies identical to those that led you here, soft hums on pink lips like the morning dew on a blushing rose. They tugged at your heartstrings and beckoned you closer. Your little firefly friends appeared as if they were dancing, no longer only hovering over the surface but swaying back and forth on the notes as they surrounded the pale male. Their yellow light threw a soft and subtle warmth on the cold hues of his skin, making the sight all the more alluring.

Again, your feet moved on their own accord, even if you were already planning on telling them to do exactly that. The moss underneath your bare soles felt soft and cool, soothing the stinging scratches the twigs and brambles inflicted on your skin as you were running earlier. Excitement stirred inside your stomach the closer you came to the white lotuses in the spring, and most importantly in the middle, the fairest of them all. A pleasant haze resided inside your head, buzzing only with a lingering desire to listen more closely, to see more vividly.

Sooner than expected, your toes had reached the edge of the spring, only needing to dip down a few inches to feel the wetness of the clear water. You didn’t realize how you were just standing there, mesmerized as you never let your eyes wander away from the bathing man in front of you. If you’d thought he was enchanting from afar, you needed to reevaluate your standards because up close like this, his ethereal face and glistening, naked torso only a mere few feet away from where you were standing, you were scrambling for the right words to describe him.

“Hello, sweet maiden.” The raven beauty finally faced you as he spoke, creating gentle ripples in the water as it carried his body effortlessly when he came even closer, looking up at where you stood at the waterside. “Will you tell me your name?”

With his head slightly tilted to the side, he waited for you to answer him once again, sparks of curiosity gleaming in his dark eyes but you did not want to speak, you only wished to listen. To hear him speak and sing, oh how you longed for the sound of his voice the moment the last word has left his rosy lips in a question. To all the gods in the heavens, the stars in the skies, you wished he would soon speak again. You’d been so focused on his voice, you momentarily forgot about the words it had formed and when you did remember, you realized you could make your wish come true by giving him what he asked for.

“My name…” You spoke for the first time in a long while that night, a night that seemed to have lasted two lifetimes by now. “My name is ____.”

Your throat was dry and your lips were dryer, your tongue coming out for just a second in a reflex to wet them. Your voice was slightly hoarse from both the physical and mental exhaustion you’d been put through and you winced at the sound. It was in stark contrast with the honeyed tones you’d been clinging to since the moment you’d heard him sing them.

“___.” He repeated, his eyes following the movement of the flash of pink darting out between your lips and his gaze lingering there long after. Your name felt foreign when formed with his lips, like something that sounded so beautiful could never belong to you. He seemed to like the weight of it on his tongue, if the small movement of a single corner of his mouth curling up was anything to go by.

You nodded slowly, your own gaze fixed on either his rosebud lips or his dark eyes on yours. You couldn’t quite decide.

“Will you join me, ___?” The perfect stranger, feeling more familiar with every word he spoke, proposed as he let his hands wade through the water in an invitation. “The water feels very pleasant.”

You seemed to be unable of doing anything else than dumbly nodding your head at everything he says, but your mind went truly blank in beholding such a sight, the fizz of inexplicable desire ever present. In that moment, nothing else but this man existed for you. It was more than just simple infatuation as you knew you would give your life to be with him, without hesitation.

You were about to plunge into the pool, nightgown and all, when your ears registered a series of disapproving clicks coming from the tongue of the radiant man in front of you. The skin between your eyebrows creasing slightly, you silently wondered what your mistake was.

“Bathing is not done while still wearing garments, now is it, sweet ___?” He answered your unspoken question without intent of getting response to his own, his dark gaze critically gliding over the dress concealing your curves and contrasting with the suggestive twist on his lips. There was no maliciousness to be detected in those slightly scolding words, spoken so gently you could have taken them as the caressing words of a lover.

Heat flushed underneath your cheeks, your eyes briefly cast at the ground for the first time within his proximity. Nevertheless, your hands eagerly moved to your shoulders, fingers hooking around the hem to let the gown slide down your hips until it was a pile of white fabric, bundled around your feet. Unexpectedly, you no longer felt shame underneath the scrutiny of his eyes when you stepped out of the discarded dress, your bare body for him to examine and approve or disapprove of.

“Slowly now.” He murmured as your pointed toes made the first transition from dry land to wet water, the rest of your leg following as he silently but thoroughly took in every inch of your skin, every little freckle and blemish there was to observe.

He waited until you had fully entered the pool, the bottom half of your body underneath the surface but still very much visible albeit a little distorted through the clarity of the water. Your breasts were only half immersed, nipples steadily growing harder underneath the cool temperature while the swell of your bosom peaked slightly above the surface.

For a few moments longer, the dark-haired beauty let his gaze linger there before slowly making its way up to your face, his eyes boring deeply into yours as he whispered, “Exquisite.”

A million wings appeared to flutter inside your chest and stomach, butterflies and hummingbirds, upon hearing that single word meant only for you. You couldn’t keep a dazzling smile from curling around your lips, your heart about to burst out of its cage in pure euphoria, especially when he graced you with a smile of his own. It wasn’t as wide or as exuberant as yours but it was all the more blinding, lighting up the darkness of the night as it still mirrored the same wantonness. You so wanted to please this man.

“This night has caused you much distress, has it not?” He hummed with a hint of compassion in his voice as he brought up his hand to let his fingers lightly brush over your temple and you did not question how he knew. “Allow me.”

One large and elegant hand curled into the curve of your waist, gently pulling you closer to him, while the other formed a cup with tightly enclosed and slender fingers to scoop up the spring water much like you’d seen him do before. He brought it to your naked shoulders to wet them as well, emptying it onto your skin before smoothing the water over with the palm of his hand to wash off the dirt.

“How does that feel?” He asked when he felt your muscles tighten only slightly with every touch of his hand.

“Truly refreshing.” You sighed in contentment, your body relaxing when it got used to the cold water. All the stress your nerves had endured that night slowly dissipating and making place for a strange kind of excitement that had started stirring in the pit of your belly.

A satisfied, but soft snicker tumbled from his lips. “I apologize if my hands are a bit on the cold side.”

“They say that if your hands are cold, it means your heart is warm…” you mused softly, as if you weren’t aware you were speaking your thoughts aloud. Suddenly, you’d become so much more comfortable around his bewitching persona.

“Is that what they say?” He hummed, amused, smoothing down your hair as he sweeped it to the side, baring your neck and all the while not taking his eyes off yours.

“I don’t know...I might have just plucked thoughts from my mind.” You boldly stated, feeling less like strangers the more he touched you, the more you spoke. You wished you could touch him, too.

You were hesitant, however, since you had never touched a man while bearing such impure intentions, such sinful thoughts in mind. Never have you been touched this way in your life, either. It awakened a craving inside, one that felt very strange to you. Exciting, yes. But strange. The unfamiliarity of it kept you from acting on your desires...

“You must be thirsty, are you not?” he pulled you out of your pondering thoughts as he plucked a half-open lotus from its leaf to fill it with fresh spring water, holding it in front of your parted lips. “Drink.”

Your own fingers gently closed around his slender ones cupping the flower, the petals soft and cool against the flesh of your lips as you let the liquid flow onto your tongue and against the dry walls of your throat. It tasted sweet on your tastebuds, too sweet for what you’d expected to be just plain spring water. You’d never had anything like it before. There were hints of honey and nectar, a floral delight you could not get enough of so you drank eagerly until the flower was once again empty.

When the last drop graced your tongue with its exquisite taste, leisurely trickling down your throat, your chest suddenly felt light as a feather. It glowed hot with a golden warmth, like the sun had liquified and you’d swallowed all of its light. You felt what could only be described as unadulterated euphoria, all doubts and fear that might have been lingering up until now evaporating as you looked at the perfect face in front of you. You noticed a dark strand atop his midnight shining hair, curling up as playfully as the corner of his mouth and this time, you did not hesitate to reach out and briefly touch it, gently twirling it around your finger.

He did not mind you playing with his obsidian locks and resumed his ministrations as before. His lean fingers lingered longer than necessary on less innocent parts of your body as he continued to bathe you. Cool hands wandered from your shoulders to your arms, from your arms to your waist, down your waist to your hips until his arms were wrapped around you like vines around a tree. A certain line had been crossed between the both of you without you even realizing it, but when your chests as well as your pelvises touched skin on skin, you found your sanity back the same time you lost it.

Not for the first time that night but for very different reason, your breath hitched in your throat when one hand found the curve of your belly, further descending at an agonizingly slow pace only to come to a halt when you wanted him to continue the most.

In an act of slight desperation at the thought of losing his touch, your hands came to lay upon his shoulders, aiding you in pressing your body closer against his until not even a single strand of hair could escape from between them. You opened your mouth to speak, only to close it again when you found your mind absent words, but filled with this craving you no longer feared.

You held the moon in your arms, his eyes shimmering like stars as they captured yours, a smooth palm coming up to cup your jaw tenderly. When he slightly craned his perfect neck and dipped forward, his lips but grazed the shell of your ear in a whisper.

“Give voice to desire and i shall see it satisfied.”

A delightful shiver crawled down your spine upon receiving those words, his cool breath tickling the sensitive skin of your ear and the sensation shooting straight to your core, hot and yearning despite being enveloped by slightly frigid water.

“Thoughts of being touched by your hands plague my mind, but,” your fingers wandered along the curves of his shoulders until they occupied themselves by tracing the cavities of his beautiful collarbones. “I have yet to experience a more intimate caress of a man… Nor have I ever had the pleasure to...pleasure.”

Once again, you surprised yourself with your unexpected boldness. Usually, such words would kiss burning heat upon your cheeks but in this moment, you felt shameless. Your objective the only thing of clarity in your foggy mind, it fueled your imprudence beyond belief. You would fall to your knees and beg if he would will it so. During your life within the small village, you had already prepared to see it to its end a spinster. No man you had ever encountered had grasped your attention in that sense. They were either dumb, a pig, or both. Not to speak of all other things they could be, or rather, could not.

This man, however. You barely knew him but this very man before you defied any premade judgments and prejudices you’d convinced yourself of, about the male species. He was elegant, attentive, almost fragile. So much different from anything or anyone you’ve ever known.

“Your experience or lack thereof matters not, sweet ___.” He smiled against the skin of your neck, his small nose feeling ticklish as he brushed it along the curve. “I would see you tasting the many delights the body has to offer.”

When he pulled back, separating his lips from your skin, you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding in a slightly disappointed sigh. They had barely touched you, but you already found yourself addicted to the way they felt. The disappointment did not last, however, for the sublime beauty of his face was only a hairsbreadth from your own.

His lips all but brushed against yours as your eyes locked, dark pools of night sky with flickering stars inside of them staring down into your soul and all of its harbored desires. The hand still cupping your jaw shifted a little, only to smooth a single thumb down your bottom lip. “Let me serve them to you.” His voice still like a silk ribbon wrapping itself tightly around your heart as he spoke.

You could only nod once, your jaw slightly slacked, before he tenderly captured your parted lips with his own in a chaste kiss. Those pink cushions felt cool and soft, small but plush as they performed the lightest of movements against the delicate flesh of your lips.

A tickling sensation arose inside your chest where the tips of his fingers drew downward lines until they rested atop your sternum, the small space between your breasts where the swell of your soft mounds already grazed the sides of his digits. His other hand, momentarily forgotten about when his lips touched yours, still laid resting a mere few inches above the small hill of your burning core. The water did nothing nothing to cool it down, as it ached desperately for his touch, right there. You did not know why you wanted his long, slender fingers inside of you, or whether it would even feel good. You just knew that you needed them there, have something to fill up the throbbing emptiness between your legs.

You chose not to speak your desires, fearing that if you would separate from his lips, they would not find their way back to yours. Instead, your hand slid down your own waist until it nudged the arm that was squeezed between your hips. Your fingers trailed along the edge until they found his hand, only to envelop it and guide it further south.

His digits disappeared between your thighs, clenching when you felt his lips curl into a small but satisfied smile against your own. The tips but grazed your hot sex, the feeling slightly ticklish against your sensitive lower lips. In all honesty, you had explored your own body on multiple occasions in the past. You had touched yourself like you imagined a man would if you would ever invite one between your sheets. You were what the people back in your village would describe as a ‘sinful woman’, yet you had never paid it any mind since they had condemned you for much less. Your fingers had been where this enthralling stranger’s were in this moment, but the sensations they enticed were incomparable with those you had induced by yourself.

A gasp tore from your mouth, your eyes fluttering shut in delight from the shock of a single pinch around your swollen, little nub. A lighthearted chuckle tumbled from his lips against yours, briefly pulling you back to reality after the surprise of this foreign pleasure.

You had half a mind of asking him to seize his teasing, right when a finger spread your fleshy folds, allowing the cold water of the pool to titillate the raw and vulnerable skin of your entrance for a brief moment. An almost inaudible hiss slipped from your lips and he took that opportunity to slip his tongue past them. The slickness of the muscle tentatively exploring the crevice of your mouth matched with that of your slit, a fresh flow of arousal coating the digit rubbing shallowly between your folds. Every movement, however small, brought a slight shift in the water with it, tickling and simultaneously relieving your blazing hot core.

Spreading your legs, you widened the space between your thighs in a silent request for more. One your angel of seduction picked up on immediately, judging by how his single digit that was yet a teasing spark mere seconds ago, suddenly turned into a scorching wildfire when it fleetingly prodded at your tight entrance before breaking through the barrier of hot flesh when it penetrated you for the first time.

The feeling was not completely unfamiliar, considering you had also simulated penetration with your own fingers in attempts to pleasure yourself long before this encounter. But just like the fleeting caresses, coming from his touch instead of yours, it was a whole different experience entirely.

Your mind was high on pleasure already and you found it hard to focus on the steady rhythm your tongues were dancing to together, barely grasping the reality of the fact that his perfect lips had still not left yours. All while that one long and slender finger was slowly pumping in and barely out of your wet crevice, your inner walls greedily sucking around the digit. Your head was filled with a haze, pink and sweet and thick like fog, yet your senses had never been this sharp, this heightened before.

The quiet mewls spilling from your mouth directly onto his lips had slipped past your attention, but had only grasped his all the more. He interrupted the breathtaking kiss for a moment, briefly taking your bottom lip between his teeth in the gentlest of a nibble, before slightly opening his eyes in a half-lidded gaze. The sudden absence of his lips slightly alarmed you, causing you to mirror his expression when you looked up at him, your chest slightly panting from the exertion of the kiss.

He said nothing while his ministrations carried on, content to watch your facial features scrunch up in pleasure, making a soft groan filter past his lips as his teeth dug into the bottom one to keep him from gasping at such a sinful sight.

“Aphrodite would be struck by envy like a tree by lightning if she would ever catch sight of you, my darling.” He murmured distractedly, watching as the pace of pants entering and leaving your parted lips increased with that of his finger still rubbing your walls. “Do not worry, for i will never let her wrath find you.”

Having trouble making sense of his soothing words, you still let his voice comfort you as you searched for your own through the labyrinth of overwhelming thoughts and sensations. You came up blank, save for a single question, difficult to formulate in between frantic pants and gasps, mewls and moans when his finger reached unexpected places with a particularly well-aimed thrust.

“Y-you never told— told me your n-name,” You managed to get past your lips with great effort before he stole your breath altogether when he diligently added a second digit inside of you, doubling the fullness, doubling the brain-blistering pleasure.

Another one of those satisfied smirks graced his already striking features, and you managed to catch it right before your eyes screwed shut and you threw your head back in pure ecstasy, registering the sound of his voice when he answered, “You may call me Yoongi, my beautiful maiden.”

“Yoongi!” His name rolled of your tongue in a sigh annex a moan when the two fingers inside of you worked as one to rob you of any thoughts save for that single word. Your forehead sought support against his shoulder as you could not keep your hips from rocking onto his hand, trying to get the maddening pleasure of his defined knuckles deeper into your tightening core.

“I would hear you speak my name in such a manner for all eternity,” Yoongi let you know, a strange expression marring his beautiful face while he seemed to be missing yours, his free hand once again coming up to gently pull your chin up under a feather touch.

His eyes caught yours for the shortest of moments before your lips connected as if they had never been separated. You were overjoyed, back to being devoured as before, but the feeling was short-lived when his fingers abruptly disappeared from the snugness of your hot walls, leaving a woeful emptiness behind.

A soft whine sounded from within your throat, but you could not find the strength to pull away from the mind-numbing kiss to form a real complaint. Choosing not to break the kiss as well, Yoongi answered in similar fashion, a playful and reassuring groan echoing into your mouth while your lips molded against each other like melted wax. Slowly backing you against the edge of the spring, the grass tickling your naked shoulders, his hands slid from your hips and underneath the back of your thighs.

You did not expect to be lifted up so suddenly, so when your feet no longer touched the muddy ground of the spring, a surprised squeal became smothered against his lips as you braced yourself with your hands on his until you found security back in the form of soft moss and grass underneath your backside. When Yoongi broke the kiss once more, your confusion only intensified.

“Would you lay back for me, sweetheart?” He requested in the softest of tones, the heat that never left your cheeks flaring up tenfold as you looked down at the raven haired cause of your demise. He appeared extraordinarily sinful, presented between your legs as he was still waist-deep inside the water while you did as he said and laid back into the comfortable bed of vegetation on land.

“W-what will you-” You started, curiosity getting the better of you as you still attempted to peak down, your weight supported by your elbows. Before you could formulate the whole question, one of your legs found rest on top of one of his perfectly sculpted shoulder while his lips left a trail of slow, wet kisses along your skin.

He started at your calf and worked his way up until he reached your inner thigh, gentle sucks and nibbles littered across every available spot, the more north he traveled, the more the leg he held trembled with anticipation and sensitivity. All the while, his eyes were hooded as he focused on mapping out every hill and valley. When he reached your mound of Venus, his gaze found its way back on your face, which expression was dazed with the feeling of a thousand buzzing nerves humming in contentment at the pleasurable prickles he left behind across the entirety of your leg.

“The first delicacy i will serve you, sweet ___.” he murmurs, planting a chaste peck next to your groin and having you shiver at the proximity of his mouth near your sex. Never, not even in your wildest fantasies, would you have imagined a man’s lips so close to your lower ones. You’d heard stories of women and their husbands, where they had been requested to perform oral pleasure on their partners… the women as the performers, mind you, you had always thought it a strange but intriguing concept, like a special service. Nevertheless, you had always written it off as a way for men to feel superior to their spouses. You had not even once thought about the possibility of the men as the performers, despite your critical mind. Assuming that this man, this miraculous person, is going to do to you what you had heard women were expected to do to their husbands… With the roles reversed, what did that make you? What did it mean?

Your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a slick wetness glided along your hyper receptive slit, quite shallowly at first as he but licked a long stripe on the outside where both your outer and parts of your inner folds were bared before the caresses of his wet muscle. Just this simple action, knowing the more sensitive of skin has not yet been reached, already has you reeling in rapture. Two of his fingers spread your lips apart, revealing the soft, velvety tissue, so vulnerable and delicate to his touch.

Another soft groan, bordering on a whine, willingly slipped from Yoongi’s beautiful, swollen lips as he took in the sight of the treasure between your legs, needing a moment to take it all in. The moment was indeed exactly that; a moment. It did not last long before he dove face first into your hot center, eagerly lapping up your essence, richly flowing from the crevice of your tightness. The experience was entirely ludicrous, a fleeting note that if you had thought his fingers felt divine before, this was launching you directly into the heavens.

A strangled moan forced its way out of your lungs when his tongue curled around your little nub, hot and swollen with want, and his lips followed suit to suck not so gently as you would have expected him to, nor would you have wanted him to. Your whole body staggered, back arching from the ground and your head thrown back in utter disbelief of the insane onslaught of pleasure he was inflicting on your poor virgin vagina. Your fingers found shelter in his midnight locks, tugging at the strands and accompanied by your lips, a waterfall of lewd moans mixed with chants of his name with a mind absent thought, you appeared as if gone completely deranged.

Your delectable noises and the urgent tugs at his silken hair moved Yoongi to lose himself further into the devouring of your begging mound, paying special attention to your red hot clit as it made you spout particularly delirious nonsense when he did. You tasted absolutely palatable on his tongue, the nectar of the lotuses bland in comparison in his modest opinion, and the more he licked, the more he sucked, the more your own nectar flowed.

You would have considered him a man starved, not taking note of the context, considering how desperately he buried his face between your legs to lap up every single drop. He enjoyed it so much, he was almost disappointed to see you topple over the edge much too soon for his liking. You did so bathing in sweat, muscles tensing up and white blasting behind your tightly screwed eyes as you sobbed an attempt at his name, your fingers clenching around your angel of sin’s locks as if they were reigns. Your skin glistened with the exertion of pleasure rather than the water from the spring, your body steaming in the cool night air as your first orgasm attacked your every nerve. Never had you experienced anything of the sort in your life before, a feeling as though you were possessed. Maybe the people in your village did have a point.

Panting in aftermath, small sighs and gasps of lingering disbelief continued to fall from your lips, your eyes widely staring at the stars above you and your hazed mind trying to make sense of what had just occurred. Yoongi licked a final stroke of wetness across your slit, making you hiss in sensitivity and having him snicker mischievously in response. Your hands fell limp and slided from his hair to lay uselessly next to your weak, spent body.

He carefully pulled you back into the water, hands guiding your hips so you would slowly slide down the edge without hurting yourself. You had trouble finding your balance, your legs still wobbly and weak and your mind drunk on the bliss of a hard climax, but he made sure to support you well with his arms locked around your waist and your chests pressed together.

“Well,” He started, a smug smile plastered on his almost marble-like face as he studied your delirious one in amusement, “Did you enjoy your first course, sweetheart?”

An incredulous laugh found its way past your lips, your forehead resting against his as you couldn’t keep the stunned smile off your face, “That was...was....It was…” You shook your head and giggled softly, not for the first time that night unable to find words that matched with what you felt.

“Agreed,” Yoongi chuckled, pecking a soft kiss on your cheek that made you want to curl into a ball, “If you still have an appetite, we can move on to the next one.” He proposed, the tone in his voice tempting and promising.

“Consider me a glutton, then,” You bravely stated, a daring look in your eyes and an accepting one in his when they met again, “For i will be hungry as long as there are courses.”

His thumb fondly smoothed over the skin of your cheek as he looked at you like you were a dream. “Oh, sweet ___,” He sighed in wonder, “If only.”

You wished to ask him If only what? but you did not get much chance to when his lips were back on yours in an instant. This time, they moved with a purpose, an untamed craving that came from deep within. His arms dropped from your waist to settle on your behind instead, his large hands squeezing your asscheeks as he pulled you impossible closer to him. The hardened buds of your nipples grazed his torso and even the smallest of sensations like that made a shiver trickle down his skin, raising goosebumps on his arms that had nothing to do with the nightly breeze.

A strange object dug into your hip, your eyebrows creasing slightly as you let one of your hands descend into the water to identify it. Heat flared underneath your cheeks, your eyes wide in realization when your fingers closed around a hard, meaty shaft, attached to the god-like man in front of you. You have seen many a manhood during your life in the village, especially when the men got drunk and liked to boast with their cocks. Not that you had ever thought they had anything to boast with. You had never touched one before, however, feeling the weight of Yoongi’s in your hand, it felt nice. You felt excited, the nervousness somehow never breaking through. Not once during your encounter with your beautiful stranger since you had entered the water with him, had you felt nervous or scared. Despite this being your very first sexual experiences with a man.

A soft moan broke through your pondering thoughts, making you remember the fact that you were still holding his hardened length in your hand. Closing your fingers around the shaft a little more tightly, you attempted a hesitant stroke, making his hips respond immediately by bucking into your hand further, so you did it again. Gaining more confidence, you tried experimenting with varying pressure, smoothing your thumb over the head like he’d done with your bottom lip and earning a delicious moan from his lips. Within a minute, you were getting the hang of it, even finding enjoyment in the action as you watched various expressions cross his beautiful features. Mesmerized by the sight, you lost track of the vigor of which you were pleasuring him with, too absorbed in the way his lips parted for drawn out moans and furrowing eyebrows.

You had not expected a hand coming down and joining you underwater to halt your ministrations so quickly, panting breaths hot against the nape of your neck where Yoongi’s head laid to rest for a moment.

“Your enthusiasm leaves me in awe, sweetheart,” He chuckles breathlessly into your ear, “but it is time for me to serve you once more.”

Your heart leaped in your chest when his hand left yours to lift up your leg, hooking it over his arm to keep your thighs widely spread as you stood in the pool of water. Your back still rested against the edge of the spring, making it easier for you to keep your balance. His free hand replaced yours that was still wrapped around his girth, his hips nestling between your own as the head of his cock kissed your wet entrance.

The anticipation picked up the pace of your breathing, your chest heaving quickly as he brushed the engorged tip between your slick folds, collecting your arousal to make it nice and slippery. His eyes found yours again after both sets were temporarily staring mesmerized into the clear water, watching the distorted image of your actions through the ripples of the pool. A single nod is all it took for him to get permission to enter you, tentatively guiding his length inside your tight core, your walls mercilessly clenching around him. Whether it was to try and push out the foreign object or suck it further in, you could not tell. There was a screaming, nagging pain when you took in more of him, his girth significantly more broad than the two fingers he had used to pleasure you before. It felt like small tears on the inside, and the uncomfortable feeling lasted until he was sheathed to the hilt.

“How do you feel?” His breath staggered as he asked the question, his arms and legs shaking with sheer effort to keep still inside of you.

“It’s… quite alright.” You answered in all honesty, the pain ebbing away steadily as your tightness grew accustomed to the intruding thickness of his shaft. “Go on.”

Yoongi nodded, lips softly moving against your own in an attempt of soothing the awkward feeling of the first strokes inside of you when he slowly started to move his hips, coaxing you through the pain. It hurt no longer, although the feeling was not exactly to be described as very pleasant. You had started to miss Yoongi’s mouth on your little nub, but were surprised by the replacement of pain with pleasure after a few seconds of getting used to the stretch.

“Oh!” You exclaimed when a slightly sharper thrust hit a spot deep within you that had your eyes roll back for a moment. Uncomfortable grunts turned into delighted moans when the repeated movements started to feel good, making you feel full and satisfied instead of tolerating a painful stretch. “Yoongi…”

The sighed out moan of his name was his cue to take it up a notch now you were no longer uncomfortable, but receiving pleasure out of the way his hips snapped up and buried his cock deep inside. He pulled your leg up just a little higher, only to plummet himself deeper than he’s ever gone, the head of his cock hitting your inner sweet spot directly. Judging by the way your voice raised in pitch as well as decibels, he knew he’d aimed well. With this newfound angle, Yoongi continued to pound into you with a steady rhythm, hitting that spot over and over until you were a mess with your fingers tightly clutched into his hair once again, a warbling mess unable to form coherent words. He could not keep from moaning either, the feeling of your tight walls holding his cock in a vice-like grip and milking him for all he’s got.

“Y-Yoo-oon-gi!” His name left your mouth in sounds pulled apart by the powerful thrusts making you bob up an down and steal your breath, a pathetic attempt of a warning.

When he added pressure on your neglected little nub, sparks practically flew from your skin. You were tumbling head first into your second orgasm that night, dangerously fast for someone who has never experienced one before. It was all too much, too overwhelming, too sensitive and powerful and you let the tears stream down your cheeks as you could feel yourself reaching your peak, the knot in the pit of your stomach almost painfully tightening while Yoongi continued to rub your clit diligently.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” He cooed, giving you adoring kisses on your lips, your cheeks, your neck. His breathing was heavy as he, too, neared the edge of his release, “Let it all go for me.”

You could not hold back even if you had wanted to, so you did as he said and let go with one last choked back moan, one last swallowed sob, one last pull at his precious head of obsidian hairs. This climax knocked the wind out of your lungs, your clit on the brink of painful overstimulation but also not wanting him to stop the rubbing while you came all over his thick cock, still thrusting mercilessly into you in a less controlled rhythm compared to before. This announced the fact that Yoongi, too, was at his limit as his grunts and moans rose in pitch and frequency, your walls hot and wet and tight as they pulsed around his length until he could not fight it anymore and erupted inside of you, coating them in a layer of his hot, white, sticky seed. He kept you close to him as he filled you up until not a single drop was left to spill. He slowly slipped out of you when he went soft again, but held you inside his embrace for a little while longer so you could both relish in the afterglow. You listened to each other’s heavy breathing, soft sighs and relieved moans as fingers lazily caressed skin, soft kisses landed on the first patch of skin they could find. It was intimate, close, like you had forgotten you had been strangers at the beginning of the night. It felt like you had known each other your entire lives.

“You are divine,” Yoongi sighed in utter bliss, gently brushing your mussed hair back much like he had earlier this night, planting another adoring kiss on your lips, “my sweet ___.”

You wished you could revel in this warmth, this love, forever. With your head far up in the clouds above, you had nearly forgotten about the question that had burned on your tongue since you first laid eyes on him.

“I must ask,” you started, hesitantly, as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, “are you human?”

A silence fell, but it was not uncomfortable. It was expectant, innocent. You watched the way his eyes never seized to shimmer like stars as he mulled over his answer while lightly caressing your face with the tips of his fingers.

“I can not say that i am.” He finally answered, a light huff leaving his slightly curled up lips.

“I never thought you were.” You admitted. “Then, if i may, what are you? Are you an angel?”

An adoring smile giving you a peak of the slightest bit of gums spread across his face, a beauty you were sure you could never get used to even if the heavens would grant you an additional thousand years of life. “I’m afraid I am quite a bit older than the angels that you know, sweet ___. My heritage goes back further than the existence of your God.”

You looked at him expectantly, knowing there was more to his identity, his story. Noticing the curious gleam in your eyes, he continued.

“My father was a lover of the beautiful Goddess Aphrodite,” He sighed, not out of exasperation but more so out of a strange kind of acceptance of the story he was going to share with you, “she was rather fond of him, you know. He wasn’t handsome but he was beautiful. A delicate beauty that seemed to make the moon look bleak in comparison.”

“You are much like your father then?” You carefully inquired, a soft smile encouraging him to go on.

“In terms of looks at least, i suppose,” He smiled back, letting you know it was alright to ask questions, “I have never met my parents, personally. I only know their story, since it is also mine.”

“What happened?”

“Aphrodite wished to keep him for herself exclusively. She was not possessive of nature and was content loving each and every man that appealed to her the same. For some strange reason, with him, she felt differently.”

You listened intently, intrigued by the tales of which you’ve read about in books you secretly stole from the town’s library from time to time. Gods, Goddesses, Aphrodite...lovers. It was all true.

“He fell in love with a Naiad, a water nymph from Megara. Her name was Yiloise.”

“Your mother.” You understood.

“My mother.” He confirmed with a small nod of his head. “Does that answer your question?”

You nodded back slowly, amazed at that single fact , “So you are a nymph…”

“I am. Does that repel you?” He teased.

“On the contrary,” You suppressed an excited giggle. You had never thought nymphs and other mythical beings to exist up until you’d slept with one. “What happened to the Goddess Aphrodite, though?” You wondered out loud.

“That, my sweet ___, is why i am here.” Yoongi explained, a slightly sombre expression casting a shadow on his radiant beauty, “In a fit of jealousy, she punished my mother by taking me from her after she gave birth to me, only to banish me to this forest forever. I was meant to waste away here for all eternity.”

Having not expected such a tragic turn of events, you fell silent. You pitied him, even though you tried to fight it, and he picked up on it.

“Do not feel sorrow for me, sweetheart.” He gave you another reassuring, soft smile, halting the welling tears in your eyes from spilling past the border. “I am not alone. I never am.”

“I do not wish to leave you.” You told him, your voice but above a whisper as your heart felt crushed by a stone at the mere thought of being separated from this exquisite being.

“You will never have to.” He hushed you, his soft lips pressing a familiar kiss to yours and lifting the weight from your chest instantly. “I will see to it.”

As you melted away in each other’s warm embrace within the cold spring, time seized to exist as all that mattered was that he was yours and you were his, and you forgot about the village, about the wolves, about the world. Your only wish was to stay by his side, forever.

And so another never returned from the haunted forest, fallen into the clutch of the ancient soul it harbored.

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