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#I’m just going to not play anymore until the book is over and I see how it ends.
choicethereis · 2 years
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The Nanny Affair is getting really hard to play. How are we supposed to root for this relationship with Sam when the story is like this?
And the one redeemable piece of the plot (the boys) is being ruined by the debacle with Addison.
What is going on 😭
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silencesscreams · 5 months
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"is there any chance i can fix this?" where james and reader are best friends since birth but he begins to pull away and spend less time with her in favor of the boys, so she just cuts him out of her life and after a while he doesn't know how to deal with it anymore. hiiiii
sad beautiful tragic
james potter x fem reader (angst)
a/n: sorry about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language (also i’m pretty bad at writing angst but i tried my best) also immediately thought of the title because of the taylor swift song, so hope you don’t mind the association. also the first kiss part came to my mind because of a tiktok i saw a few weeks ago but i don’t really remember who’s it was to credit them
warnings: friendship distancing, kissing, fighting, cursing, a bit short (sorry), happy ending
“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please”
you knew james potter and he knew you. knowing meaning comprehending each other, meaning that you stood by each others side for as long as you can remember.
he was your first friend. he was your neighbor and you both grew up together, it was expected that you both would know each other better than anyone.
sure, it felt different when you both started hogwarts and suddenly he had new friends, but so did you. you spent the time you could together, always saving a bit of your days for each other.
during the sixth to seventh year summer vacation, he had spent the whole summer with you, you both would hang out all the time.
until he kissed you.
it was the last day of summer and you both had spent the evening in his room. you were talking about a book you had been reading recently and he listened quietly, like it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard of. until you paused for a brief moment and he moved closer to you. you were sat on the floor with him, the carpet tickling your legs as you played with the fluffy yarn under you.
“honey” he said, you looked at him, doe eyed waiting for him to continue. “a phrase. two words, six letters, two vowels. guess.” he said lowly whilst looking at your lips. your mind went blank.
one vowel for each word. you still didn’t get it.
“what are the vowels?” you whisper back, he smiles.
“i and e” he answers, not taking his eyes from off of you for a second. you knew.
“kiss me?” and so he did. his lips met yours abruptly, his hands grabbed your hips and yours went straight to the back of his neck. it completely changed the way you ever saw him, hell, it completely changed your expectations to a kiss. it was better than anything you’d ever experienced and you loved it.
when you got back to school, it seemed like he didn’t do that, actually, it seemed like he didn’t even talk to you the whole summer.
sure, he did casually say hello in the halls and you might’ve shared one or two conversations, but what the hell? he kisses you like that and expects you to just forget about it? that was the most fucked up thing anyone could’ve done. as the semester went on, your mind was absolutely torturing you over that kiss.
it made you overthink every single thing you ever did around him. but maybe he didn't have time, maybe he was really busy with his studies and quidditch, right? that was probably it.
he saw you every once in a while, said an awkward hi or whatever that thing signaling head thing he did was.
the crush you had developed for him didn’t help at all. it made you crave his presence in your life, even now that you hated him more than you ever thought you possibly could. you missed his pet names for you, ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ sounded so amazing coming out of his mouth.
but from the moment he started to ignore you, you decided he was absolutely done. he was never going to see a smile coming from you ever again, he was never going to get another hello, nothing. james potter didn’t deserve a single thing from you.
your friends agreed. they thought he was a piece of shit and said you should’ve cut him off a long time before.
life went on without him, you barely thought about him. your studies were going well, everything was great.
christmas break came up and when you saw james at the train station, you were pissed. you knew he was going to be there for christmas dinner, he was always invited alongside with his family. you didn’t know how he was going to act then, was he going to pretend it never happened?
when you got home, your mother instantly started asking you what you wanted for dinner and you were glad to be home, you just hated that he was in the house next to yours.
a few nights after you both got home, you were invited for a date by steven, who worked at a bookstore near the city park. you said yes, he took you to see a shitty movie and tried to kiss you after dropping you off at your front porch. you dodged it and gave him a good night kiss on the cheek. james saw it all.
once the date left, you heard him yelling from his porch:
“who’s that?” you ignored him and went inside, sure, you weren’t going to see steven again but james didn’t deserve to know that.
on christmas day you went to the potter’s for dinner, your parents insisted for you to go, even though you tried to fake being sick. sirius was there too, you politely greeted all of them them and didn’t bother to answer james’ “hey”.
when you sad at the side of the living room table james sat next to you, even though that wasn’t his usual seat. you played with your dress awkwardly and ate less, being there was making you so irritated you lost your appetite.
after taking a bite from your desert, you thanked euphemia for the food and told your parents you were feeling a bit sick and that you were heading home, telling them to enjoy the rest of their night.
as you were opening the door to head out, you heard footsteps behind you. you knew james was there and you had no interest to talk with him.
“don’t” you simply stated, stepping out and shutting the door lightly on him, he followed you during the small walk between both your houses.
“hey!” he shouted, trying to get your attention. you were about to shut the door to your house on his face, but he held it with his foot, going into your house.
he pulled you by your wrist but you tugged it away from him.
“don’t touch me!” you shouted at him, staring into his eyes for the first time that night.
“now you can talk to me, huh? ‘the fucks up with you?!” he shouts back, brows furrowed. you couldn’t believe him, what a fucking nerve he had.
“whats up with YOU?!” you step closer to him, throwing your keys on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. “you’ve ignored me for the whole semester and now you wanna talk?” he had never seen you like this. you had never been this angry at anyone or anything around him.
“i’m sorry?” he had no reaction, he knew he was wrong, he just couldn’t deal with it. with anything. he didn’t know what to do after he kissed you, he couldn’t handle any of it. he knew that if he spent more time around you he would fall harder, he couldn’t risk it.
“i’m sorry! now that you don’t have anyone else near for you to talk to i’m worthy of your attention? i’m so lucky, right?!” your eyes started to tear up, but you held it in, he was not getting to see you cry.
“honey, i’m sorry i didn’t talk much with you these past few months, but i tried to speak with you tonight and you didn’t even bother to answer me!” he ran his hand through his hair, looking at you as you sat down on the couch, staring at your hands.
“you didnt even look at me. the entire fucking night. one lousy ‘hey’ is not trying to do anything” he handed you a piece of paper, it was crumpled up in his jeans’ pocket. you knew he was bad with words, but the paper was written front and back. what was he even trying to do? did he think a letter was enough to fix the damage he had done?
“really? you’re a little too late for this, don’t you think?” you said, looking at him angrily.
“fine, don’t read it then. just keep it, okay?” he knew you were about to cry. it was the worst feeling he had ever felt.
“you don’t get to do this to me, james” you hold back tears once you say it.
“i know, honey, i know” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face as you try to not melt because of his touch. he kisses you, but this time you pull away.
“no. don’t do this to me” you say, a single tear streaming down your face, he wipes it off but more tears just keep coming
“im sorry, im so sorry for everything i did and-“ you interrupt him.
“could you just try to listen?!” you shout, pulling away from his touch again. “what makes you think that i want this? after all you did, better, all that you didn’t do?! you kiss me and expect me to forget about it? expect me to be okay with you ignoring me all the time just because you kissed me again? i can’t be okay with any of this unless you actually explain to me what happened. i really try to understand you, but all of this doesn’t help!”
“i love you” he says “i have loved you all my life and i didn’t know, after i kissed you it all hit me and i couldn’t trust myself around you anymore, i didn’t want to hurt you so i pulled away, i just didn’t know it would hurt you more like that. i’m sorry, but im here now and i want to show you how much I do love you” he pauses and sits next to you on the couch.
“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please” he wipes the tears from off your face again. you knew he meant it, you just didn’t know how to trust him again.
“i don’t know” you whisper, looking into his eyes, you had never seen him look this sad. you wanted to trust him, you really did, but how could you? how could you know he wasn’t going to pull something like that again?
you couldn’t be sure of anything, you could only hope for the best and be careful. so you gave it a shot.
“come here” you say lowly, pulling him in for a hug. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and gave you small kisses.
“i’m so sorry, baby” he whispered.
“i know” you whisper back, he looks at you and gives you quick kisses all over your face. you can’t help but smile.
it was going to take a while for you to trust him again, but you knew you could.
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Dinner with the mobster | Bucky Barnes
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Mob!Single!Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Your boss - who is also the most feared man in town - asks you to go out for dinner with him. When he suggests to take his daughter with him, you agree to go out with them.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 2.295
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (G) none, just fluff
𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> Hi I absolutely love your work. I was wondering if you could write a mob boss! Single dad!Bucky Barnes x reader. Feel free to ignore if it makes you uncomfortable. Thank you 🤎🤎
𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you so much for your nice words, they really mean a lot and thank you for the sweet request. I wanted to write more for Mob!Bucky and your request was the perfect opportunity to do so. I hope you like what I made with it.🩷🩷 Divider made by @firefly-graphics.
𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> AFG Fluff Bingo | Row Two-One | First Date | @anyfandomfluffbingo
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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James Buchanan Barnes, the most popular mobster in town, has at least one hundred men who are protecting him and another one hundred men as well as women who clean his house, cook for him, or do other chores. His house - his villa - near the forest is almost not even in town anymore. The man could have every woman, and almost every woman admires him. He has long brown hair, mostly tied into a bun; his beard is trimmed; he has ocean blue eyes; and he has a smile that could light up the darkest night. James has a muscular body, is tall, and is just the dream of every woman. But even though he could have it all, he lives with his daughter alone. But he has an eye on someone, someone who doesn’t look really interested in him, which slightly confuses him but makes her more interesting for the mobster.
“Daddy, look what I found,” his princess says with a proud smile, holding up a book in her hands.
He furrows his eyebrows, his legs spread, while he sits on his couch and waits for the woman he asked to come into his office. In his hand, he holds a glass of his favorite Bourbon while he looks at his daughter. She walks closer to him, pushing herself up to sit on his lap before she holds the book closer to his face. James reads the title on it and smirks.
“That’s the book your friends - my employees - wrote into, isn’t it?” he asks with a smirk.
He told all his closest employees to write into the book after his princess was sad about having just four people - next to her - written into it. Those people were James, Sam, Steve, and Natasha. And then she asked her daddy if he knew if some more who wanted to write into it. Of course she also has friends, but the little girl prefers the big men around her, commanding them around like her daddy does, and he enjoys seeing his well-working education.
“Do you wanna see it?” she asks, kissing her daddy’s cheek softly.
The small girl looks like James - just the smaller, female version - but she has the same brown hair, ocean blue eyes, and the same smirk and pout on her lips as her daddy.
“But just until Y/N is here,” James says, and he turns his daughter around.
With his hands wrapped around her tummy, he looks over her shoulder. Her small back is pressed against his broad chest. Then she opens the book and waits for her daddy to start reading. James does, and his princess is always telling him something about the pictures before he can turn to the next side.
After a few minutes, it knocks at the door, and he looks up to see you standing there, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. You play with your fingers, looking down, while you just stand there and wait for James to give you instructions.
“I- I can- I’m sorry for distracting you,” you mumble when your nervousness grows.
“No, it’s fine. I asked you to come here, so please come in,” he says with his rough voice, and you shiver slightly.
When you met him for the first time, he was scary, and being so close to such a dangerous man can still be scary, but he is all soft and sweet around you and makes you feel like you are special to him. Little do you know you’re special to him, and he would buy the whole town, the moon, or the whole universe for you just to see your smile and hear you laughing while he is the reason for it.
James leans closer to his daughter, kissing her cheek before he lifts her off his lap and places her in front of him.
“Tell Uncle Stevie he has to give you some cookies,” James says, laughing when he sees his daughter jumping around with a giggle before she runs out of the room.
His ocean blue eyes then meet you again, and he gets off the couch as well. James walks closer to the door, gripping the doorknob while he waits for you to walk into the room to close the door behind you. It makes you a bit uncomfortable to be all alone with him in a room, but you know you’re safe.
“Wanna drink something, Bourbon? It’s a good one, my favorite bourbon.”
“N-no, thank you. I- Uhm- I’m fine, really,” you mumble.
You could face palm yourself when you realize what you just said. He didn’t want to know more, just if you wanted to have a drink. You inhale deeply while he leads you to the couch. When the two of you are taking a seat, he smiles and turns his head toward you.
“Do you have any plans for tonight?”
“N-no. I can take care of your daughter when you have plans for tonight.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” he laughs softly and takes a sip of his bourbon. “More like, do you have time to go out with me?”
Your mouth drops open, and you swallow hard, rubbing your palms over your pants to dry the sweat.
“I- You’re my boss, James,” you say quietly, turning your head away.
He chuckles softly and slides his hand to your back, stroking it softly while he takes another sip of his bourbon. The shiver along your spine makes him grin even more, and the way your body reacts to his touch lets him admire you even more.
“I’m not asking you, actually. Babydoll, let me take you out, please.”
“I-I don’t want to overstep boundaries. I- James, I should go back to my room,” you mumble.
Bucky chuckles; the way his body vibrates against yours sent another shiver along your spine. His thumb moves closer to your lips before he slides it over them, making you gasp. Your boss is so close, you can feel his hot breath on your skin; his touches are like electricity, causing more goosebumps all over your skin. Bucky leans closer, his lips almost touching your ear, inhaling your scent before he kisses your earlobe.
“How about we take Mia with us? You love her, and she loves you.”
None of the two of you mentioned that there are feelings between you and Bucky. You nod softly, but he sees it and smiles, kissing your earlobe again. Then he pulls away.
“I will pick you up in an hour,” he says, getting up, and you follow.
The two of you walk to the door. He opens it and runs his fingers over your back before you walk out of the room and to yours to change into something better to go out with your boss.
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Like he told you, he is knocking at your door an hour later, wearing a suit - like always - his cologne all around you, and you smile softly when you look into his beautiful face. His brown hair is tied back, and he holds the tiny hand of his daughter. She is smiling at you as well as her daddy, both admiring you in your dress. Bucky in another way as the girl, but they both can’t get their eyes off of you. Bucky clears his throat and takes a step to the side, letting you walk out of the room.
“You look beautiful, doll.”
You blush, scratching the back of your neck.
“Daddy said we gonna go to my favorite restaurant,” she tells you with a proud smile.
You’re still not pretty sure what to say or how to act since your boss has invited you to go out with him. So you smile nicely and walk with him and Mia to the cars in the garage.
Bucky is a gentleman, opening the door for you, making sure you’re comfortable, but always taking care of his daughter too.
When you arrive at the restaurant, he takes your hand in his, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand. He makes sure you’re comfortable; otherwise, he would immediately let go of your hand. But there is not even a hint of discomfort on your face, just a small smile on your lips. Together with you and Mia, he walks to the entrance, letting the two of you walk into it before he follows you.
“Good evening,” the waiter says, his muscles tensing when he sees Bucky.
“Good evening, a table for three by the name of Barnes.”
The man in front of Bucky nods and shows you the table. You’re helping Mia out of her jacket and talking to her while you walk through the restaurant. The eyes of the people widen when they see James walking with his daughter and a woman through the room. He smirks when he offers you a seat, takes your and Mia’s jackets out of your hands, and sits across from you, smiling widely with his steel blue eyes piercing into yours. His tattoo-covered arms rest with the sleeves slightly up and his arms on the table, and he just admires you while you look between Mia and him with a small smile.
“Good evening. Have you already decided what you like to eat?” a woman asks, her smile shy, and her eyes dart from Bucky to you and back to the muscular man.
“As always, for my daughter and for me,” he says, then turns his face to you and smiles softly. “And you, doll?”
A shiver rushes through your body, and butterflies go crazy in your belly when he calls you by that nickname in front of other people. Then you look at the waitress and order your food as well. She just nods, takes the menus, and walks back to the kitchen.
“Y/N?” Mia asks, her hand touching yours.
“Yes?”
“Do you like daddy?”
You almost choke on your own saliva when she asks that. Of course you do; who doesn’t? He is a gentle and soft man; he is beautiful, muscular, and makes you laugh. You feel safe with him, not just because there are always some of his men around, but just because of him. On the other hand, he doesn’t act in a soft way with others like you always thought, which makes the feelings you have for him stronger. Bucky doesn’t say anything to the question; he just smirks and waits for you to answer, wanting to know what you think about him.
“I-I- He is nice, but he is my boss,” you mumble.
“But you like him?”
“Yes, but I like you too, Mia.”
“So do you want to be my new mommy?”
This question caught you off guard, and your jaw drops immediately. Bucky chuckles are low and rough, causing your skin to tingle. He makes you feel things you never thought you would feel, especially not for him. The most fearful man in town, a mobster. But also your boss, a wonderful and sweet man and daddy of a beautiful and cute daughter.
“Say yes, and I’m gonna make you mine tonight,” he says.
Your breath hitches, your body shakes softly in anticipation, and you nod. Do you want it? Want to be his? Of course, you definitely want to be his.
“Y-yes.”
Mia smirks, ready to throw herself around your neck, but the food arrives at your table and she learned manners from her daddy, so she just squirms a bit in her seat but starts eating and smirks the whole time at you. Your cheeks are red, and you fix the plate with food in front of you instead of facing Bucky. What if he just wanted to know what you feel for him, but he just wants to play with you? But he is just so soft with you and not with any other woman around him.
“Doll?” his rough voice interrupts your thoughts, and you look at him. “Please let me make you mine. I know the way you look at me, and you’re the only woman I want to have. I have loved you since we first met.”
“O-Oke. B-But I can’t work for you then. H-How can I pay for my things?”
“You don’t have to pay anything. Don’t forget who you’re talking to; you will get everything you need, and you just need to ask me,” he tells you with the softest smile you have ever seen.
When you nod again, his eyes light up, and he can’t help but get up to walk around the table. He gets on his knees next to you, capturing your cheeks with his big hands before he leans closer and presses his soft, plumb lips on yours. Kissing you in a way no one has ever kissed you before, so filled with love and passion. When you kiss him back, he smirks, pulling you even closer, and your hands grip his shoulder, your fingers sliding along his neck. Mia cheers quietly, giggling and looking at the two of you in awe while he bits into her nugget. You blush when Bucky leans back, his thumb stroking your lips, and his blue eyes say more than words could ever say.
“I love you, doll. My precious doll.”
“I-I love you, too.”
“Andddddd I love you. And my nuggies,” Mia says, holding her nugget up to show it.
“Yeah. We love you too, little girl,” Bucky laughs and kisses you again, then he gets up and takes his seat again to finish eating.
Your cheeks are still red, especially when you recognize that everyone in the restaurant was looking at the two of you. But when you look at Bucky, every fear fades away, and you feel just loved by him.
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𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨
𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
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Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry
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borathae · 7 months
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"Yoongi can’t talk right now. He is so ruined and it’s only been seconds. This is going to be the biggest torture you ever made him go through. Being touched and licked should have prepared him for your pussy, but it didn’t. When you played with him, Yoongi noticed the spell but it felt more like very intense edging to him. He is starting to realise that this is so much more."
Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader
Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut, domestic Fluff
Warnings: switch!Yoongi, switch!Reader, this goes from Dom to subbiest!Yoongi, he is all cocky at first but then turns into the whiniest baby, i love when men submit :), he spanks her casually and talks about putting her over his lap, it’s not in a sex related context but with heavy sexual undertones, she is such a tease when she subs ahaha, and a sexy demon when she Doms, explicit flirting, dirty talk, istfg the tension between them, a lil bit of dry humping, sex spells, magical orgasm control, strength & size kink, she lifts him onto the counter to feel him up, stripping, he sits on her lap as she gives him a handjob, edging, praise, good boy kink, she calls him kitten, he calls her Mistress, begging, sexy possessiveness, messy nipple sucking, blowjob, deep throating, CBT, masochist!Yoongi, she rides him, his big vampire cock makes an appearance, so much cum besties, subby boy tears, his fangs make an appearance too, she fucks him into non-verbal subspace, dollification in the sense that he can't move anymore cause it feels so gooood, this is both the kinkiest sex ever but also deeply emotional for him, you know me there's gonna be an emotional conversation at the end, they're in love :(
Wordcount: 11.4k
a/n: listen besties, you know my thoughts on them. i can't form any more words. i just love them and i want them to be happy always 🤎
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“My love?” you say, sitting down next to him and draping your arm over his tummy.
He was lounging in his living room, writing lyrics in his notebook when you interrupted him. 
“What do you want?” he asks, not looking up.
“Why do you think that I want something?”
“You’ve got your needy princess voice on.” 
“I don’t have a needy princess voice”, you mumble with a pout. 
Yoongi lowers his pen and gives a look, cocking his right brow up.
“Even if I do”, you give up, “you can at least give me a chance to voice it.”
He lowers his book to his lap and turns just a little so you are facing him better. 
“I’m all ears.”
“Okay so”, you begin by taking his hands and bouncing on the sofa excitedly, “I’ve been thinking and I wanna show you something.”
“Okay?”
“Here. This”, you place a piece of paper into his palm, “read it.” 
Yoongi sighs in defeat and reads whatever secret you put onto the paper. He looks attentive at first, but soon his expression changes into utter surprise and shock until landing on confusion.
“Where did you get this from? I didn’t show you that yet.”
You snicker mischievously, grabbing his thigh to shake his leg.
“What do you think of it?”
“I wanna know where you got this from. That’s not the magic we’ve been practicing.”
“Tae. He had this really interesting book on sex magic and he gave it to me and I went through lots of spells with him already. This was one of them.”
“Princess”, Yoongi says in his scolding voice, lowering his eyes at you, “what did I tell you about doing new magic behind my back?”
“Technically you said that I knew enough control these days that I can feel safe in myself.”
“Yeah and then I followed it up by telling you to discuss new magic with me before trying it. Perfect control doesn’t mean being master of all magic. You can still get hurt or hurt others. This is crazy”, he says, lifting the piece of paper to wave it in the air, “you’re not ready for this kinda stuff.”
“But I am.”
“What do you mean?” he squints his eyes, “princess, what did you do?” 
“I’m only gonna tell you if you promise not to get mad.”
He squints his eyes even harder, making it difficult for him to see. But he doesn’t need to see clearly right now, to see the utter mischief in your eyes. You may pretend to be sorry right now, but you aren’t. You are completely and utterly confident in your past sins and Yoongi is meant to accept them all. He loves that you feel safe enough with him to feel no fear in confessing to him, but he also hates that your trust in him means that you will act reckless way too frequently. 
“Fine”, he grumbles through gritted teeth, “I won’t get mad.”
“Okay so, I practiced with Tae. Many, many times until I was good at it. Then I practiced it on Tae and at first it didn’t work, but the second time we tried it I was able to control it for ten minutes. And by the third time we tried it, I managed to do it for an entire session.”
“Fucking hell, this is giving me a headache”, he murmurs, massaging the bridge of his own nose, “what else? I get a feeling that’s not it.” 
“Of course not. I did it a few more times with Tae and it went splendidly with all of them. And then I did it, okay so remember how Kook and I went on a camping trip?”
“You did it to Kook?!” Yoongi gasps, “are you outta your mind? Princess, don’t do that.”
“No, it’s not like that. I did it to him and it went well”, you calm him down, taking his hands, “it went really well. So well actually that I gave him a Ripper high without blood.”
Yoongi gawks. The silence between you and him is heavy, but not uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry, you did what?”
“I gave him a Ripper high without the blood, just by controlling his orgasms and making him cum really hard.”
“Stop fucking with me.” 
“I’m not. This actually happened. Ask Kook.”
Yoongi studies your face with distrust in his eyes.
“Go on, ask him”, you stress, shaking his arm.
“No, don’t be weird”, he whines and shakes you off, “I’m not gonna ask him that. Goddamn it princess, I wanna be so mad at you right now. You’re so reckless. Do you even have an idea what could have gone wrong? What you could have done? What-”
You silence him by kissing his lips. Deep and passionately. With your hands cradling his face and your tongue tasting his surprised gasps. Deeper. You need him to forget he ever wanted to be mad at you.
You climb his lap, hook your arms behind his head to pull him close. Yoongi sounds so utterly helpless underneath you. His thighs keep pressing together and his fingers cling to your body desperately. How obviously ruined he is. Just from simple kisses. 
You break them because you know that you’ve got him enchanted.
“Nothing happened”, you whisper. 
“If you think that I’m just okay with it because you kiss-” 
You kiss him again, even deeper than before.
Yoongi shakes you off, “princess, stop that. You-”
You pull him back into the kiss, silencing his growl of complaint by stuffing his mouth with your tongue. His fingers twist your jumper at the back, his throat produces a small keen of helplessness. His tongue tangles with yours. He couldn’t even control it happening. It was instinct. 
Your fingers begin scratching him behind his ear. He’s sensitive there, resulting in his chest to rub against yours as he arches his back. 
He’s distracted. Good. Your plan has worked. 
You break the kiss again, basking in the desperate sigh he lets out. His pouty lips chase you. You know that he wants more. Good. He can’t think about scolding you if he craves your kiss.
You flutter your eyes open once you are far away enough that you can comfortably look at him. He has his head tilted back and his eyes half-lidded. They switch between staring at your lips and gazing at your eyes. 
“Don’t do that”, he whispers.
“Just needed you to shut up”, you answer him as your fingers play with his hair at the nape of his neck. You know how much this makes him shiver. He gets so weak because of hairplay.
Yoongi chuckles deeply, sliding his hands to your butt. He spanks you with both hands. Hard enough to make it tingle and to force your body to flinch into him instinctively. You even let out a surprised moan, arching your back. 
“Say shit like that again and I’ll put you over my lap”, he warns, rubbing the tender spots on your pulsating buttocks, “understood?”
“You’re being unreasonable”, you argue, earning yourself another spank. You had hoped that it would. It burns so good, making you sigh his name. 
“Are we understood?” he stresses as his big, manly hands rub your tender flesh. His touch feels addictive. 
“Yes”, you get out, “yes, we’re understood.”
“Good girl. I like you so much better when you listen”, he praises and runs his hands along your waist. Up and down, back and forth. His touch feels like electricity on your skin. 
“Yoongi”, you sigh, grinding on his lap instinctively. The spanking made you needy, “Yoongi, I wanna try the spell on you.”
His touch stops. Silence. His eyes are widened as he stares at you.
“I’m sorry?” he gets out.
“I wanna do it with you.” 
“Why do you wanna do that?” Yoongi gasps with widened eyes. 
“I don’t know, I just thought that it could be fun”, you say, shrugging your shoulders.
“You’re just gonna mess it up”, he is pretending to be against it. You can see it in his eyes. 
“I know I can do it and you’re the only one who didn’t get to experience that yet”, you try harder.
“I’m three thousand years old. What makes you think I never experienced that before?”
“Because you were a brooding loner, who didn’t wanna be touched, for most of it”, you throw back.
“Wow”, he lets out and laughs. It’s heavy in amusement. His hands slide to your ass, taunting you because they aren’t lifting for a spanking again, “I was a perv for the first few centuries. You know that I was.” 
“Yeah well, then you didn’t experience it with me yet”, you throw back. 
Yoongi smirks. He’s so sexy when he does that you feel your heart flutter at the view. 
“I’m busy with lyrics.”
“That’s okay. We can do it whenever you have time.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t act stupid”, he says and picks you up so he can lie you down on the sofa. He hovers above you, pressing his crotch against yours, “you’re so fucking wet already and you wanna act all innocent with me”, he rasps, rolling his hips into you, “as if I have the choice to still say no.”
“You always have a choice. You just gotta be stronger than your urges and stop getting affected by my smell.”
“You’re a brat”, he says as his amused smirk grows, “fuck, I wanna make you cry on my cock.”
You shudder. He’s driving you insane. He can be so dirty-mouthed if he wants to.
“You can only do that after I made you shake”, you tell him, earning yourself a deep growl from him.
“See? I have no fucking choice.”
“Yeah, you do.”
His eyes gleam in the thrill of this little game you are playing. He closes the distance between your lips, needing your kiss. The tug was too unbearable otherwise. He is so hungry for you. 
You however, turn your head away. It results in his lips to mouth at your jawline. He lets out a chuckled whine, dragging his fangs over your skin without pressure.
“Don’t deny me”, he whispers deeply.
“I don’t wanna kiss right now”, you lie, twisting his hair playfully.
“Yeah, you do. You just get off on being cruel”, he rasps and nibbles on the spot where your jawline meets your ear. 
“Maybe. Or maybe I just don’t wanna get lost in something which isn’t my plan.”
“Plans can change.”
“No”, you laugh and push at his chest harsh enough that he has to sit up. You sit up as well. Your legs are tangled together, your middles pressed closed. “Not this plan. I still have lots to do. Potions to brew and bottles to fill, so you still have a few hours to think about your answer.”
“And if I say no?”
“Then you can have my kiss and you can make me cry on your cock.”
“See? That sounds like a good plan.”
“Definitely, but I also know that you’re only pretending to be against my plan.” 
Yoongi chuckles, cocking his right brow up.
“Brat”, he says, making you grin victoriously. 
“Yeah, I know”, you say and untangle yourself from him. You get up from the couch even if Yoongi tries so hard to keep you with him. In the end however, his hands slip from your hips and he is left feeling cold and desperate while you look down at him.
You run your hand through his hair. Yoongi tilts his head back instantly, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. 
“Think about it”, you tell him, “I gotta go back to work.”
You step back, but Yoongi manages to snatch your hand. He holds it tightly, guiding it to his lips so he can kiss it. 
“Stay. Don’t go”, he begs, looking up at you with pleading puppy eyes.
You really want to stay. Hell, you want to kiss him and touch him and allow him to make you feel so good that you cry. But you can’t. The game of chase is too much fun with him and you know for a fact that Yoongi loves it just as much. There are many occasions where you turn each other on without acting on it instantly. The thrill of denial and the desperate hunt which follows, makes the sex all the more intense. 
“I’m sorry, I can’t”, you tell him and slip your hand out of his hold.
“Princess”, he pleads, but you step back.
“I’m in my kitchen. Yeah?” you tell him and turn to leave.
“Fuck”, Yoongi drops in the sofa, running his hand through his hair, “you’re so fucking cruel.”
You are in the doorframe, looking over your shoulder. The playful smirk you send him, makes him crazy.
“See you later”, you coo and finally turn to truly leave. 
You spend the next hours getting needier and needier. You just can’t stop imagining all the possibilities of tonight and as your mind produced vivid images of Yoongi being lost in pleasure, it couldn’t help but wander to past evenings with him. Shared moments of intense pleasure run through your mind and make you all the more desperate for him. It may sound peculiar, but you love those feelings. Thinking about sex with him is just as exciting as actual sex with him. You love swimming on those thoughts and especially when you know that your near future will include sexy times with him. The knowledge makes the fantasising just all the more sweet.
You managed to fill an impressive amount of potions in the time you thought about Yoongi. 
You made a deal with Maël and the Seville pack to deliver potions for the upcoming blue moon next week. The wolves want to strengthen their lifespan and asked you to deliver the needed potions for it. The ritual will be a werewolf only event, but you are allowed to see the preparations with the explanation that you are Min Yoongi’s mate. It is honestly remarkable which places you are allowed to enter without question because you are his love. It is also very nerve-wrecking to think about which important people trust your magic because they know that Yoongi has his entire trust in you. You are obviously excited about all the opportunities, but if you told your past self what kind of life she would be living one day and what kind of job she would be pursuing, she would have called you crazy. You’re a witch, delivering potions to an established and highly important werewolf pack and you are helping your vampire Creator mate keep the peace between the supernatural factions. Goddamn, your life is awesome.
There is a sudden knock on your door. Your heart does somersaults in your chest, your knees almost give up on you. He is here. Yoongi is finally here. You check the clock. It’s not even been two hours. It felt so much longer than that however.
“Yes?” you call out, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
The door opens and in steps Yoongi. He seems to have taken a shower as he is in a rope and nothing else. The rope is black with golden dragons on the material and a golden belt. His long raven hair is tied into a bun.
“Oh? Hey there”, you tell him as calmly as possible, while your heart is almost giving up in your chest. You pretend to be busy with wrapping rope around the potion necks, whilst in reality you are just waiting for him to make a move.
The door locks.
Your heart races even more.
Yoongi is by your side within seconds, wrapping his arms around you from behind and connecting his lips with the side of your neck. His big hands squeeze you while his strong arms pull you against him. You stumble because of it, but Yoongi holds you with enough strength that you barely even notice the stumble. He sways you from side to side slowly, helping you instantly float on the sensation of being close.
You feel light-headed. Fantasising about being intimate with him made you so sensitive that his neck kisses feel like paradise right now. 
“You were being fucking awful with the shit you pulled”, Yoongi rasps, “telling me all this shit and then just leaving. You think I was able to actually be productive these past two hours?” 
You can feel his voice against your back. You press yourself closer because of it.
“I was just saying. It was just an idea.”
“Stop fucking around”, he warns, guiding his lips to the shell of your ear, “you knew what you were doing.”
You smile. Of course you knew what you were doing, that’s why you did it in the first place.
“And what is your answer?” you ask him.
“If we are gonna do this, I need you to promise me not to tell anyone.”
“Of course I won’t. It’s our secret.”
“Good girl”, he praises and turns you in his arms. He presses you against the countertop, staring you down with dark, enchanting eyes. You feel so drawn to him. You touch his chest.
“So how are we gonna do this?” you ask him.
“Not so fast. I’m not done yet”, he says and takes your hands to guide them behind your back. He steps closer this way, making you gulp as you look at him. He lowers his voice, caressing your wrists as he keeps you pinned, “I need you to promise me that if I won’t react as well to the spell, to not get disappointed.”
“What? You mean that you’re too strong for it? Like you are too strong for the rope spell?” you taunt, staring at his lips.
Yoongi tugs his brows together, making you snicker victoriously. 
“Don’t worry about it, my love. It’s okay to be nervous”, you tease him as you rub his chest.
His frown grows, but you know not to be intimidated. He is just embarrassed to be caught in a lie.
You run your hands to the nape of his neck and begin to play with the hair he didn’t put into the bun. 
“Anything else?” you ask him.
“You’re a brat”, he mumbles.
“I know”, you grin, “and you love it. Be honest.” 
His frown softens. He steps closer, sliding his big hands to your hips. He lowers himself, you do the same. You are resting against the desk in a way so that your legs are between his’ and he can look down at you. Your weight, you support with your elbows propped on the countertop.
The tension is unbearable. Your lips are only a tilt of the head away from feeling the other’s kiss.
“Kiss me right now”, he orders in a rasp, staring at your lips with half-lidded eyes.
“And if I won’t?”
“I’m gonna get my kiss regardless.”
“Is that a threat?”
“This is the truth.” 
You giggle, “oh Yoongs, you are so delightful.”
Yoongi gazes at your lips.
“Kiss me”, he whispers.
You lift yourself. Yoongi moans, parts his lips and closes his eyes. He is so eager to kiss. With a fluttering heart, you watched it happening. You giggle and lower yourself again. 
Yoongi opens his eyes.
“Please”, he begs, cupping your cheeks. He lets his words swirl over your lips, “give me permission to kiss you.”
“You’re so cute”, you whisper. 
Yoongi moves his lips as if he was already kissing you, letting out a pained sound. 
“I’m begging you, allow me. Please.”
“I don’t even have to enchant you to get you begging”, you taunt, inching closer.
Your lips ghost over his’. Yoongi moans softly, squeezing your cheeks. He doesn’t move in. Not until you initiate it. The denial aches.
“You’re a delight”, you whisper and push him away from you 
Yoongi stumbles back, looking so utterly hurt. You take his waist and switch your roles, pushing him against the counter. One surprise movement later, he sits on top of it, pressing his legs together in embarrassment.
“Why would you do that?” he complains.
“Because I can”, you are smiling up at him and kneading his hips, “now stop pressing those legs together and let me get a peek.”
Yoongi follows without hesitation, gawking at you with his eyes slowly getting softer in submission. He knew that he would be the submissive tonight and he loves it. He feels so excited about it. You are such a good Dom and you know him like no other. He trusts you, he can be naked with you, vulnerable and utterly himself and you wouldn’t judge him. Which is why he loves it when you’re bossy. Yoongi loves being a helpless slut just following your orders. 
You slide your hands to his inner thighs, sending electricity through his veins. You massage them gently, never going past the hem of his rope. He wants you to go past. He currently exists for nothing else than your touch.
“You’ve got the softest thighs, my love”, you gush and look into his eyes, “I want to exchange safewords with you.”
“Snowdrop.”
“That’s right and is it okay for me to control the scene?”
He nods his head, opening his legs further. You are caressing his skin mindlessly as you talk and it feels so good.
“Say it.”
“Yes, it’s okay.”
“Good boy. Is it okay for me to take off your clothes and to touch you?”
“Yes, it’s okay.”
“Both?”
“Why are you asking so many questions? You’ve been torturing me for two hours, please I wanna be touched and cum in your hands”, he whines, cracking you up. 
You bounce on the spot, blinding him with your smile. Your fingers knead his flesh. It tickles uncomfortably which forces Yoongi to whine and push them away. You change your grip, now caressing him again. This all happened within seconds as you smiled at him.
“You won’t cum for a long time, kitten. So get that outta your head.”
Yoongi gulps, opening his legs even more. He looks so, so needy this way. And like such easy prey. He even arches his back so his nipples would slip out of the rope accidentally. So perky and dainty. He’s got the prettiest nipples. You ogle them for a moment then look back at his face.
“And second of all, I fucking love you acting this way. My pretty slut, mhm?”
Yoongi rolls his hips against nothing. His skin is charged in sensitivity, his body feels fuzzy. With just your eye contact, your simple touch and your words, Yoongi already feels fucked. Shit, you are such a safe space for him. You make it so easy to switch from his normal – careful and wary – headspace to his sub headspace.
“One last question, promise”, you say, running the back of your nails up and down his inner thighs. Yoongi places his hands behind his back, putting his weight on them just so he can arch into your touch. 
“Please hurry up”, he stresses, hurting unbearably. He needs your touch on his cock. It hurts so bad to be denied.
“Is it okay for me to go with the flow or do you need me to ask for consent each time I do something new?”
“I wanna be touched”, Yoongi begs.
“Answer my question, kitten.”
“Don’t ask for consent, just touch me. I’ll say if I don’t want something.”
“There we go, that’s all I needed to know. Thank you for being such a good cooperator, kitten. Such obedience needs to be rewarded”, you say and slip your hands from his thighs. 
You twist the golden belt between your fingers and open the loose knot with one tug. The fabric still hides him, but you open it. You want to see him and marvel at his beauty. His ivory skin glows golden in the candlelight, his dark nipples are swollen and against his soft tummy, his hard cock stands impatiently and aches for your touch. His velvety cockhead is flushed, the thick veins on his cock pulsate as he gets harder under your greedy eyes. 
“Look at that. You’re already hard”, you gush, looking up at him, “kitten, you’re so hard.”
“I’m so needy.”
“Of course you are. My needy kitten.”
You run your fingertips to his tummy. Up, up, up until you can trace his pecs and down again. Teasing. You trace the outline of his cock on his tummy without touching him on his cock.
“Please touch me”, Yoongi begs. He’s such a good boy with you, always so eager to beg. 
“I am.”
“Touch my cock, please”, he tries, arching his back. 
“You’re such a fucking delight, my kitten”, you rasp and step closer. Your fingers slide to his waist, your lips connect themselves with his chest. Your teeth take his right nipple and play with it hungrily. Your lips suck him swollen, your tongue tastes his skin. 
Yoongi feels lightheaded while his nipple feels charged in pleasure. Every touch, kiss, lick and bite feels better than the last. He thought that he couldn’t get any needier, but he was wrong. 
“___”, Yoongi begins moaning your name. That means a lot with him. Your name doesn’t fall from his lips often. Only when he feels deeply and overwhelmingly emotional. Being pushed deeper and deeper into the safest, most pleasurable subspace is definitely one of the most intense emotions he can experience. Your name feels like relief during those moments, your syllables taste like candy on his tongue. 
You switch sides. You are a very fair Dom after all. His nipples need to be worshiped equally. He has such a pretty pair of them. Once his left nipple feels as swollen as his right, you lift your head. 
His cheeks are flushed. He is breathing heavily. Your thumbs stay on his nipples, rolling circles into them.
“Be my good kitty and take off your rope”, you order him. 
Yoongi obeys. The rope falls onto the countertop and stays there.
“There we go. Look at you.”
Yoongi is entirely naked while you are still dressed. If his past self could see him right now, he would actively make sure never to meet you just so he doesn’t have to get naked in such a demeaning way. But Yoongi isn’t his past anymore. Yoongi is in love and he is happy and he found his safe home with you, which means that being naked while you were dressed feels good to him. Maybe even empowering because of how incredibly smitten you look. 
“I want to worship you for hours, my love”, you tell him as you run your hands over his torso.
“Because I’m beautiful?” he asks shyly, earning himself your eye contact.
“Say that again.”
“Do you want to worship me because I’m beautiful?”
Your heart does somersaults in your chest.
“Do you think that you’re beautiful?” you can barely get the words out.
“Yes”, he whispers, lowering his head shyly. 
“Holy shit”, you press out. Your hands cradle his face, your eyes sparkle as you make him look at you, “holy shit, Yoongi my love. You, you never said that- you, oh god, are so beautiful, oh my love”, you choke out and squeeze his cheeks. 
Yoongi feels great. Nothing hurts. Except his cock. Oh god, he is thinking of it again.
“Can you touch my cock?” he begs, “please, I was a good boy”, and he bargains.
“I can, just not here. Follow me, my love”, you say and take his hands to tug him off the countertop. 
He hops off and follows you to the sofa. You twirl and fall, tugging him down with you by his hips. Yoongi stumbles and falls onto your lap, gawking at you with widened eyes.
“What the hell?” he says.
“You like it?”
“Why should I, I like it? You tugged me down and that’s it.”
“No, I meant do you like this?” you ask him and wrap your hand around his cock to jerk him off. 
Yoongi gasps, writhing desperately as his legs squeeze around your thighs. His eyes widen for just a second before his lids flutter and a breathy "ah" slips past his lips.
The first touch won’t ever lose its spark. Yoongi has to moan again because all the mental and physical teasing made him unbearably sensitive. 
You place your unoccupied hand on the small of his back and tilt his hips so his cock thrusts into your palm. Then you continue your rhythm, running your skilled hand up and down his entire length.
“Do you like this? Mhm?” you repeat your question.
“Yeah”, Yoongi gets out, writhing on your lap. This position is a first for him. To sit on your lap and have you touch his cock. He feels so vulnerable and small in this position and it’s messing with his already dizzy head. 
Yoongi lowers his head, looking down at where your hand makes him feel electric. His tip is glistening in his excitement. 
You run your fingers to it and give him a squeeze, forcing more droplets to leak out of him. The sensation combined with the visual makes Yoongi moan. 
It was soaked in surprise, shock, pleasure and submission with a hint of embarrassment in the end. 
“Look at you”, you have your sexy, powerful voice on. The kind of voice which makes Yoongi’s knees weak, “you’re leaking like crazy”, you say and massage his pink tip in strong squeezes. You have him between your thumb and pointer finger, using the grip to really make him leak. 
And he does. Oh, how he leaks. He gets so wet for you. He gets especially wet when you are helping him fall into his small subspace. And tonight. Oh tonight, you pushed him into it with one simple act. The act of sitting him down on your lap and playing with his cock.
“Look at all of this. You’re so wet for me, kitten.”
Yoongi falls even further, arching his back so the tip of his cock moves between your fingers. He closes his eyes and scrunches his nose. A breathy, “fuck” follows. So quiet and shy only you can hear it. 
You watch him, feeling your tummy churn in excitement. His cheeks are rosy, his pretty button nose is scrunched up and his dark hair frames his delicate face messily. 
“You’re so pretty”, you praise him, “my pretty kitten.”
“Please”, he chokes out and lowers his head. His body writhes on your lap, his cock throbs between your fingers. 
“Yoongi, love”, you speak sickeningly sweet, placing your fingers under his chin to tilt his head up, “don’t hide your pretty face from me. Open your eyes.”
Yoongi obeys, looking at you with droopy, glassy eyes and his lips parting as he keens shyly. He can barely keep up eye contact. It makes him feel so shy that his tummy keeps fluttering. But he doesn’t want to disobey you. Not when you touch him so good and not when you look so pretty.
“That’s better. You have such beautiful eyes”, you say and smile, “keep looking at me, kitten.”
“___”, he whispers shakily, cupping your face as his hips roll back and forth on your lap. Like this, his balls and tender hole grind against you, sending bolts of warm pleasure through his middle. His palms are clammy. You know that it is because of a mixture of pleasure, coyness and the intense warmth his body produces because he is with his soulmate. His touch feels so alive on your skin, because this is how you make him feel.
“That’s it, don’t you dare look away”, you praise, rewarding him with the best touch Yoongi ever felt on his cock. Nobody feels like you do. Nobody makes him feel so good. 
Yoongi mewls and runs his clammy hands to your jaw. He cradles it for just a second then his hands slip to the sides of your neck.
“My handsome prince”, you whisper, “you’re my handsome, pretty love.”
“You’re making me cum”, Yoongi chokes out and pulls a face of devastated pleasure. 
“Thank you for telling me”, you say and retreat your touch, caressing his thigh instead.
“No”, Yoongi breathes and squirms, “please…”
“You’re such a good boy for telling me.”
“Don’t edge me, please”, he begs and tries to tug your hand back to his aching cock. 
“You’re cute. I take it that I can start with the spell now?”
“What spell?”
“The orgasm control spell. Yoongi love, that’s why we’re doing this tonight. Did you already forget?” you ask in a fond snicker and your loving hands caressing his waist.
“Oh”, Yoongi lets out.
He was so lost in pleasure that he forgot the true purpose of tonight. He is so deep in subspace that he forgot the only reason why you are touching him is because of the spell. He feels a little sad at that thought, lowering his eyes.
“Unless you don’t want it anymore. Then we can do something else”, you say.
He shakes his head, “I want it, but I’m, I don’t know, I need reassurance.”
“Of course, oh Yoongi you’re my most loved. Yeah?” you say and slide your hand to his cock, “and I’m gonna make you see stars”, you add in a rasp as you run your hand up and down the underside of his cock. 
Yoongi moans softly, closing his eyes and slipping his hands to your shoulders.
“Don’t stop”, he whispers and adds a breathy, “please, Mistress.”
“Okay. I won’t stop. Is it okay for me to do the spell when I notice you getting close again?”
Yoongi nods his head.
“I need to hear it.”
“Yes, surprise me with it. Please, holy fuck, don’t stop.”
“There we go, that’s what I like from you. You’re such a good boy voicing your consent like that”, you praise him as your thumb massages his most sensitive spot. 
He writhes and moans softly, “fuck. There.”
“Yeah, right there. You’re such a good boy, my love. Such a good boy.”
“Okay please”, Yoongi reaches down and laughs panickedly, “be quiet.”
You snicker, “close?”
“Yeah…“
“You’re so cute”, you say and cup his cheek, “come here, kitten.”
Yoongi leans down. Your lips brush his forehead. A hot, breathtaking sensation shoots through his body. A big, unbreakable knot forms deep in his tummy and his cock suddenly feels like exploding. Not literally but he swears, one wrong touch and he would shoot cum everywhere. Except that there are touches on his cock and no matter how good they feel, he can’t let go. 
You pull your head back, studying his face. 
“Shit, ah”, he gasps, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to make sense of his own state, “what did you do? Ah.”
“See? And you wanted to tell me that you’ll be too strong for the spell.”
He somehow manages to open his eyes. They are filled with devastation.
“It shouldn’t feel like this.”
“Does it hurt?”
He shakes his head.
“What else?”
“I can’t, I can’t cum. But I want to. Please don’t edge me, I don’t know what- ah-”, he stutters, ending his senseless rambling by rolling his eyes back and closing them. His nose scrunches up, his fingers dig into your shoulders as his body begins fighting the enchantment. He keeps grinding and humping and bouncing on your thigh, all while his cock throbs and pulsates between your fingers.
“Look at you. You’re such a needy kitten. Look at you trying to cum”, you say and giggle maniacally, “you’re so cute.”
“Fuck. Shit”, he gasps and tugs your hands away. “Oh”, he startles because of his own reaction, looking at you with big eyes. His hands grasp themselves and move up to hide his lower face behind them, “sorry”, he mumbles into his little fists.
“You’re okay”, you soothe him, “I can stop this again. It’s not your taste, is it?” 
“I don’t know”, he confesses and looks at his cock. It is swollen and pink. So pink it borders red. He drops his right hand and wraps it around his cock. He still covers his mouth with his left hand, changing the grip once his own touch meets his length. He squeezes his own cheeks, furrowing his brows as his eyelids flutter. A deep purr rumbles in his chest, his thighs squeeze your own. His own touch feels so different than yours. You have the softest palms while his’ are slightly calloused from fighting. He misses your softness whilst at the same time getting addicted to his rough touch.
“Fuck, please”, he begs as he tightens his fingers around his cock. He tugs on it, trying so very hard to make himself cum. He fails miserably at it, gripping your upper arm in desperation, “please princess, please.”
You watch him touch himself, caressing his twitching thighs as you do. His hand is so big around his cock. Yoongi isn’t small, he is actually the perfect length, but his huge hand makes his cock almost look tiny. He pumps it around his girth, squeezing out droplets of useless precum. 
“Ah god, shit”, he presses out and speeds up his hand. Wet squelching and the needy sounds of him fill the room. He is panting like crazy, mixing in deep purrs and desperate gasps every now and then.
“There we go, touch yourself. Isn’t it fascinating? Look at your wet, little cock. Such a wet kitten cock, mhm?” you talk to him in your sexiest voice, soothing the shakes in his legs with tender touches. 
Yoongi mewls loudly and drops his head against you. He humps you, fucking his cock between his naked tummy and your clothed stomach. His hands, once grasping his own body, slam down on the wall behind the sofa. He scratches his nails down as he somehow tries to make himself cum. 
“Fuck”, he presses out, letting the word swirl over your face. His hips chase you quickly, giving his cock a fruitless fuck, “f-fuck.”
“Does that help?” you ask him with a fond chuckle on your lips and your hands grasping his buttocks. They are tensing uncontrollably, mirroring the desperation he currently experiences.
“No”, he croaks, “what did you do to me? I can’t cum. I want to cum, please.”
“Just say the word and I’ll stop this.”
But Yoongi doesn’t say the word. Yoongi mewls and fucks himself against you with such vigour it knocks the air out of you. And again. Again. Again. Yoongi is desperately humping you even if it makes breathing oh so hard for you.
“Stop that”, you laugh and grip his ruthless hips, “hey, you’re gonna make me have a stomach ache if you continue humping me.”
Yoongi drops onto your lap, whimpering into the crook of your neck. His hands cradle the back of your head, his body shudders.
“I can’t do this”, he gets out in a fragile voice.
“I will stop this, yeah?”
“Don’t stop please. I can’t cum. Holy shit, what did you do to me?”
“Magic”, you say and slide your hands under his thighs, “now don’t startle.”
Yoongi startles. You stood up with him in your arms and he didn’t expect it. He presses himself closer, whining about being put down.
“I’m too heavy, don’t do that.”
“You’re not heavy. Hush.”
You turn and sit him down on the sofa. Yoongi looks up at you, looking so embarrassed. He’s adorable.
You give him a grin and fall to your knees before him, spreading his thighs for him. Yoongi reacts in a thrust of his hips and his hands placing themselves over yours. You caress his skin and look up. He is breathing heavily, looking so utterly nervous yet turned on.
“My pretty kitten”, you praise and take his cock between your lips. 
“Ah”, Yoongi gasps, furrowing his brows as his cock twitches into you. He is so messed up. His tummy clenches like crazy.
“Mhhhm”, you purr around him, sinking down on him until he tickles the back of your throat. You hum deliciously, swallowing around him to make it all so tight for him.
“Please”, Yoongi breathes and grips the edge of the sofa. He squirms, pressing out another “please” when you begin fucking your mouth with his cock. All while you are purring and humming and moaning around him, making him feel your voice in the most stimulating of ways. It makes him so sensitive.
Yoongi scrunches his face in desperate pleasure. He can’t cum. But he wants to cum. You feel so good. Hot, warm and soft. You keep sucking on his tip and licking the spots which are the most sensitive. Everything – every single fiber in his body – begs for him to let go, to fall into the sensations. But Yoongi can’t let go. The pressure in his tummy aches and makes breathing hard, his legs are so weak that they can’t even tremble anymore and his nails hurt from gripping the sofa. And yet he can’t cum. No matter how hard he tries.
You are at his tip again, sucking so harshly your cheeks fall in. All while your left hand is sliding to his balls and your right is jerking off his shaft. You are moaning as you feast on him, sending vibrations through his sensitive cock. 
“Please”, he begs. Pleads. Whimpers. His eyes tear up. He closes them and curls his lips back as another high-pitched whimper rolls off his tongue. 
“Mhhm, ah”, you slip off of him deliciously, slurping up the sweet mess he leaves just for you, “you’re so wet, kitten”, you taunt, massaging his thick vein and therefore forcing more useless precum out of his cock. It sits on his flushed tip as pretty, translucent pearls, “look at that mess. It’s so fucking useless, isn’t it?”
Yoongi takes your hand and squeezes it. You look up, meeting his glazed over eyes. 
“Need a break?” you ask him to which he shakes his head, “what else? Mhm?”
“I need to cum”, he presses out.
“But you can’t. I know, you told me before”, you say and smile, kissing his knuckles softly, “don’t worry kitten, you’re in safe hands. And mouth”, you say and snicker at your joke, lowering yourself back to his cock. 
Yoongi wanted to complain about your stupid joke, but couldn't because you stole his ability to speak. All he can muster are needy noises and desperate gasps for air.
You take him as deep as you can go, using the position to really push him past your throat’s limit. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s so incredibly hot to you. Especially because it makes Yoongi whimper above you and grip your head as his body slacks in utter defeat. His legs fall open further and his tummy softens as his muscles give up on him. He presses out a weak, “hngnmm” and lets his head all against the sofa and roll to the side as he is staring at you with heavy eyes.
He doesn’t use the leverage he has on your head. He truly wastes the opportunity, letting his hand lay limp on your head while you throat fuck his cock. Your left hand grips his pretty waist, your right cups his balls and tugs. 
“Ah!” he yelps, thrusting into you against his will. His back arches off the cushions, his eyes roll back involuntarily. The pain was intense, gaining in intensity because your spell turned his body into one overly sensitive mess.
You slide off with a slurp, keeping your attention on his flushed tip while your hand tugs again. Harshly. The pain sits deep, but feels like paradise. 
Yoongi drops his hand from your head for the sole purpose of rubbing his own face. With both hands. Desperately. Mostly to make sense of his state, but also to wipe some of the tears he spills. 
Another tug on his balls reminds him that he’s your fucking slut. He throbs between your lips and chokes out an agonised sound. It is filled with so much pain and torture that you feel the need to check up on him.
“Colour?” you ask, massaging his aching balls gently.
“Green”, the word leaves him breathlessly, a small whimper follows, “please let me cum, please.”
“Mhm, I don’t know. You’re so cute when you’re like this”, you coo and kiss his tip, “my cutie.”
Yoongi touches your head before cradling your cheek. His palm is sweaty, his touch weak yet loving. You tilt your head up to see him.
“Please", he whispers, staring at you through his lashes. His dark hair hangs into his face messily. He is practically glowing in pleasure. The view makes your heart race. He is so pretty.
“You’re cute when you beg”, you say and give his balls a tug. Once stretched to their limits, you incorporate a twist to really drive the pain deep.
Yoongi’s face scrunches in pleasure, he squeaks out a “please” while his enchanted cock throbs between your fingers. 
“Like this, so cute”, you squeal and giggle, “my cutie patootie”, you add in a squeak and tug on his balls, giving them a twist when it hurts the most.
Yoongi thinks that you are the cruellest person ever. Your voice and the words it produces build him up and makes him feel so loved, your eyes show him how much he is adored and yet your hands torture him as if you hated him. You are so loving and yet so cruel. Yoongi can’t function because of it. 
“Mistress, please”, he begs and squeezes your cheek gently.
“My cutie”, you say and kiss his palm. Just once because then you stand up. Your torturing, amazing touch ceases to exist. Yoongi feels cold because of it, aching in his chest.
He reaches for you instantly, “don’t leave, I need you”, he pleads.
“I’m not leaving”, you assure him and slide your hands to your own clothes to undress. 
“Oh”, Yoongi lets out, watching you with heavy eyes, “you’re beautiful, princess.”
“You’re beautiful too, love.”
You step out of your pants and get on his lap. Yoongi welcomes you with his hands touching your hips instantly. You slide your hands to his jaw, using a gentle grip to tilt his head up. Yoongi gazes up at you, looking so utterly ruined. Only you can get him this way. Ruined and flushed. So pretty. 
“You’re gonna cum inside me. Are we understood?”
“Yes, Mistress”, he whispers as he runs his hands up and down your lower back. 
A faint smile washes over you. You run your thumb to his lips to trace them. Yoongi chases you with a soft moan and his tongue darting out to lick you. You allow him, watching him lap at your thumb while his devoted eyes are gazing at you. 
“Who do you belong to, Yoongi?” you ask him.
“___”, he says your name without needing to be asked. 
“Yeah, that’s right”, you press out with a fluttering heart, “shit, you’re mine.” 
“Yours…”
You pick up his cock and sink down on him. Yoongi’s face scrunches up. He is so overtaken by pleasure and yet he still finds the strength to press out a desperate “yours.” As if it was instinct, but it’s not instinct. It’s the result of a well-trained, loved and utterly devoted sub finding his heaven in his Dom. And it’s his desperate attempt to show you that you and only you own him. He is yours and only yours and being reunited with you is the drug his body runs on.
“That’s right. Mine”, you praise and bottom out. You caress his neck and begin moving on him. Up and down with a skilful roll in your hips to make sure he hits every single inch of you.
Yoongi presses out a desperate moan and drops his head into your chest. He hugs you close, shaking in a tearless sob. It feels so good to be fucked by you.
“You’re doing so well”, you praise him, hugging him against you with your hands deep in his soft hair. 
Yoongi can’t talk right now. He is so ruined and it’s only been seconds. This is going to be the biggest torture you ever made him go through. Being touched and licked should have prepared him for your pussy, but it didn’t. When you played with him, Yoongi noticed the spell but it felt more like very intense edging to him. He is starting to realise that this is so much more. With every bounce on his sensitive cock, every clench of your soft walls, every swirl of your hips, Yoongi feels less and less in control of his own body. This is the true effect of the spell. Every second with you feels like ecstasy and yet Yoongi is denied its high. He is right at the source and yet can’t taste its sweetness on his tongue. 
He forces his head to tilt back just so he can look up at you. His hair is a mess on his forehead, his eyes are barely open and his chin is still in contact with your chest. 
He presses out your name until the first vowel then forgets how to talk as you slam down on his cock again and render him useless. 
“You’re so handsome, my love”, you coo as you cup his cheek with your left hand. You keep your right still buried deep inside his long hair, giving him a soft tug because you know he can take it. The bun he once wore has long being ruined. You fucking love him like that. Messed up and ruffled just by you.
Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut in the most devastating of ways, hiding his face in your chest again as his throat produces the most beautiful of sounds. 
“So handsome and you’re taking me so well”, you praise while you are ruining him. You bottom out, writing your name with your hips. He should remember who treats him like that. He shouldn’t forget.
Yoongi falls back because his body is weakened more and more the longer you ride him. 
You fall with him, laughing because you didn’t expect it. Your hands slam onto the wall to support yourself, your boobs smother him. 
“Careful baby”, you snicker. 
“Yours”, he croaks and gathers your tits just to suck and lick them. He is wet and sloppy with it, giving you glimpses of his fangs and you are loving it. 
“Yes baby, this feels so good”, you encourage him and use the new position to bounce on him. Your clit grinds against his lower tummy this way, while his cock hits all the right spots deep inside.
Yoongi mewls and whimpers into your tits while you feel yourself get lost as well. You are going to cum on his cock. That’s all you can think about right now. His touch, his lips, his warmth and throbbing cock paired with the feeling of having him at the tip of your fingers makes you feel so weakened.
Yoongi drops his lips from your nipple. He can’t breathe. If he doesn’t fight for air soon, he will pass out. His head is against the edge of the backrest, your tits are all in his face while you bounce him. You fuck him so hard that the impact your ass makes on his thighs is audible. You sound so wet. So goddamn wet. He feels it stick to his thighs and run down his balls. Your puffy walls keep clenching and sucking on him as you make yourself cum. Yoongi knows those motions by heart. You always start to get tighter when you are getting close. Yoongi finds it hard to control himself during such a ride on normal days, but today he is actually suffering. He wants to cum, but he can’t. He is so serious. He wants to cum, but he can’t. Why does nobody know how serious he is? He wants to cum, but can’t. He can’t. Every second feels like that one pivotal moment before he tips over the edge, but he can’t. 
“Please”, he begs, scratching his nails down your back. He doesn’t even realise that he is leaving marks on your skin. All he needs you to fucking understand is that he can’t fucking cum, but he wants to so, so bad.
“I’m so close, baby”, you moan above him, caring shit about him. You are just using him and his enchanted cock. Yoongi feels so ruined, spilling tears from his ruby eyes. Your tits keep slapping his face. It’s like mockery to him. He is so desperate to make you understand him and find pity in yourself and yet you are blind to it, “so close, kitten”, you press out, squeezing around his cock, “your pretty kitten cock is gonna make me cum so good.”
Yoongi tries to beg you, but can’t. He doesn’t know how to speak. Only animalistic sounds come easy to him. They’re not of feral nature, but that of a scared, little animal getting cornered by its biggest predator. You are talking about your impending orgasm while he suffers. Yoongi feels so fucking mocked by you and as a result, he wants to kiss the very ground you walk on. You own him.
You motherfucking own him.
“So close, kitten. So fucking close”, you moan as your tits remind him what heaven is and your pussy keeps his enchanted cock on edge.
Yoongi tries to help you, but he can’t. His body is useless. He can’t even get his legs to move or his hips to meet your bounces. He genuinely feels like a stupid, little sexdoll right now. A sexdoll meant to exist for your pleasure and to be useless otherwise. You could do anything to him and he couldn’t even fight back because you ruined his body to the point of paralyzing exhaustion. 
All which still works are his hands and they are currently dimpling your ass from gripping you so goddamn harshly. He’ll leave bruises in the deepest parts of your flesh, but you can’t care about this right now. Yoongi doesn’t even notice that he is bruising you. He feels numb to anything other than your hot pussy and your tits in his face. He snatches for them and manages to brush his tongue over your left nipple. It’s so weak and slow, his licks that is, and Yoongi can’t speed up even if he wants to.
“Yes Yoongi, yes. Fuck my prince, my beautiful, ah”, you moan, rutting against him. Your walls are so tight. Yoongi tries to breathe through it, but even that gets hard when you knock the air out of him each time you slam yourself down on him. 
Your hands come to cup his cheeks and tilt his head up. You want to meet his gaze, but can’t. Yoongi’s eyes are glued shut, his face is crinkled in pleasure. Or agony. You can’t decide. Maybe it’s both. 
“My love”, you moan and climax to the view of him, “a-ah Yoongi”, you whimper, dropping your forehead against his’ as your body shakes out of control. 
Yoongi’s hands lose strength as well. Your pulsating, clenching walls are too much. Not even spilling tears is enough to show the desperation he feels at this point. But he still does. It’s the only thing he can still do besides moan like crazy and fight for air.  
You come down soon, but don’t slow down as you fuck your tight walls through the overstimulation. 
Yoongi tries again to produce words, “p-please n-no more”, he chokes out and tries to grip your hips, “I can’t take much more.”
“I know kitten. Almost there”, you lull your words, sounding so ruined by your high. You speed up your hips, fucking him into insanity and no control.
“No more”, he squeaks and presses out a pained, “oh”, before a sob shakes him. 
“Who do you belong to?” you rasp the words against his temple.
“You”, he chokes out, spilling tears.
“Yes Yoongi, fuck”, you lull as you drag your lips to his forehead, “cum for me”, you order and kiss his forehead. 
The spell drops. Yoongi screams and arches his back off the sofa to its breaking point. His head he keeps thrown back, showing view to his throat and his agape mouth. His fangs are on full display as he screams over and over again as you finally fuck him to an orgasm. His cock, once perfectly human sized, grows into his supernatural length within a second. 
“Fuck, ah”, you gasp, convulsing around the sudden intense stretch. One second you need to get used to it and then you are already bouncing on him again, fucking masses and masses of hot cum out of him, “yes Yoongi, cum for me. Yes”, you growl, using the edge of the backrest as support. Shit, he is cumming so hard that it is squirting out of you and you fear that he might stuff you past your body’s limits. You can’t get enough of him, wishing for him to reach places no human should be creamed at.
“Keep cumming for me. So fucking good. You’re such a good fucking boy”, you moan while Yoongi is reduced to screaming and clawing at the couch. If he didn’t claw at it, he would hurt you. He has no control over himself right now. It scares him, but all the more it fills him with sensations he hasn’t experienced in millennia.
Yoongi thought that he knew pleasure with you. He was so sure that he couldn’t climax any harder with you. You break him and build him up just to break him again over and over each time your bodies connect in pleasure. You know his every spot and how to get him to his breaking point, you know how to keep him there until even breathing gets hard and you know how to draw it out until begging is the only thing he can do. His pleasure is on your literal fingertips and Yoongi thought that you already dragged out the deepest highs from his soul. And yet he was wrong. He was still fucking wrong. 
The last time he felt that kind of high, Yoongi lived a different life. He killed for pleasure, fucked for short relief and found his highest high in the taste of blood. He was twisted and wrong and loved nothing more than the sensation of blood coating his throat. He doesn’t like to think of this time in his life, but sometimes he thinks about the highs he can’t have anymore and begins missing them. And you are dragging such a high out of him right now. Safely. Without blood spill. Two millennia without it and Yoongi finds it again at the fingertips of his beloved woman. If he didn’t already exist solely for you, he would have started to do so right here and now. 
His screaming stops in sync with his back dropping against the sofa. He grows limp as paralysation sets in. Yoongi is there for it. Mentally he takes in every second of his vulnerable state and he can’t do anything against it. He should feel scared, but he doesn’t. He just feels so ruined and happy that he wants to smile but he can’t. Even that he can’t do because you fucked him into helpless paralysation.
“Good job”, you praise and slip off of him, “ah shit, I’m not peeing myself right now, it’s your cum”, you say and laugh which makes even more cum squirt out of you. It covers his thighs and drips to the ground. Truly you are leaking like a goddamn faucet. You snicker at the situation and look at Yoongi when he doesn’t respond. 
He is staring at the ceiling with ruby eyes and silent tears running down his cheeks. His lips are parted and his cheeks look so…fallen in as if his muscles stopped working.
“My love?” you ask, cupping his cheek, “what’s wrong?” you say, shaking his head gently. It flops from side to side without any kind of protest from him. Like his muscles forgot how to work.
You study him with furrowed brows. Unmoving and limp. Almost as if…you widen your eyes. This is the result of a Ripper High. 
“Holy shit, I gave you a Ripper high”, you gasp and press out a squeaky giggle, “oh my love, I did it!” you exclaim and begin kissing every inch of his face, “I, I did it. I knew I could do it. Oh my love, oh I love you. My love, you’re doing so well. It’s safe to come back to me, my love. Take as long as you need to, I’m right here.”
Yoongi is present for all of it. Physically he is gone, but his mind and heart are still with you. He doesn’t feel your kisses and loving touches at first. At least not on his skin, his heart still feels their effect. It swells in his chest and fills with the warmest of warmths. He knows that what you are speaking is the truth. It is safe to come back to you. There won’t be agony and guilt waiting for him, just love and the healing feeling of home.
“My beautiful, handsome love. Oh my Yoongi, I’m so happy and so proud and oh, I love you like crazy.”
Your words have an even stronger effect on his heart, affecting his mind as well and healing wounds so deep he thought they could never heal. When he lived a different life, being paralysed after his high meant that he slaughtered villages, left families ripped apart and caused nightmares to whoever was unlucky enough to survive. When he lied paralysed between the massacred bodies of his once pleasurable hunt, the guilt and pain of what he did made him cry and scream his lungs out until he stopped tensing up and he had to flee the scene with his limbs barely wanting to work. 
And now he knows that once he regains control of himself, there won’t be any bodies waiting for him. Just you. Perfectly fine and unharmed. 
The first kiss he feels on his skin is one at the tip of his nose. You trail them up the bridge of it and by the time, Yoongi feels your lips on his forehead the feeling in his skin returned completely. He can feel the wet mess on his lap, your warmth against his skin and your loving touch on his face. 
“___”, he croaks with his voice terribly ruined.
“Hey”, you speak gently, “welcome back. You did so well, I’m so proud”, you praise, tilting his head into a kiss. 
It focuses his attention on his lips and Yoongi does everything inside him to make them work first just so he can kiss you back. It happens soon. Yoongi regains control over his lips and finally kisses you back and it fills him with so much overwhelming happiness that his body regains control within the brink of a second. He loves you so much and he shows you that he does with his arms wrapping around you and his body melting with yours as he sits up and deepens the kiss. 
And he kisses you. Kisses you. Kisses you. And kisses you without wanting to stop. He kisses you with you on top of his lap, kisses you with his arms around you and his hands as deep in your hair as your texture allows it, kisses you with his chest flush against yours and his throat producing the most grateful, happy whimpers. 
He stands up with you in his arms, still kissing you. He keeps kissing you as his weakened knees drag him down and he falls onto the couch with you underneath him. And even then he keeps kissing you, needing you to understand what this meant to him. What you just healed. What you fucking mean to him. He swears that no kiss he shares with you is enough to show you what he feels for you. None of them is enough and so he has to keep kissing and kissing and kissing you until he finally finds the one worthy enough of his feelings. 
Quite frankly, he would have kissed you for countless more hours if you hadn’t broken it for him. You had to because he barely gave you time to breathe and you felt dizzy. 
“___”, his begs are instant, his lips search for your kiss but find your fingertips. The spot on your body which holds his heaven, paradise and dreams. Yoongi begins kissing them, doing so with his body trembling in emotion. 
“I can’t tell if you’re upset or not”, you whisper, watching him with overwhelming feelings in your chest. You always thought that he showed you every variation of kisses he had to offer, but the way he kissed you right now was unlike any kiss you ever shared. It left you feeling overwhelmed in the best ways possible.
He tries to answer you, but can’t. He is too overwhelmed by everything he feels.
“Take your time”, you encourage him, caressing his cheek with gentle fingers while his lips still kiss your other hand.
Yoongi tries again.
“The last time I felt this high, it was surrounded by dozens of massacred bodies”, he begins with his cheek seeking your palm. You help him find it, feeling your heart grow in love when he nuzzles into you, “I hated myself so much and wanted to die.”
“Yoongi my love”, you croak, cupping his other cheek as well.
“For hundreds of years I chased this high even if I hated it. For hundreds of years feeling it meant that I killed innocent people and left others traumatised and now you-” his voice breaks as his emotions overtake him.
He opens his eyes, giving view to the tears blurring his vision.
“I love you so much”, he chokes out shakily, “I-I want to know words more honest than love, but there are none. I love you so much more than love, I can’t f-find words. I feel so much for you”, he stutters and lets his head fall into the crook of your neck. He closes his arms around you, cradling you against him as best as the position allows him, “you’re the home I always longed for, ___”, he confesses, leaving you to spill tears because it felt so good to be loved by him.
“You’re my home too, Yoongi”, you say, hugging him against you as your nose nuzzles against his face, “god, you’re making me cry”, you confess in a chuckle, “I was planning for the evening to be fun and kinky and yet here we are sobbing again.”
“I feel so much, I can’t help it.”
“That’s okay, as long as we have each other we can be little crybabies after sex”, you say and making him laugh out a sob.
“Yeah”, he says, “ah fuck”, he gets out and laughs into the crook of your neck as much as he sobs.
You snicker and hug him closer, kissing his hair, “my Yoongi.”
Being with each other is the only thing that truly matters and if one was wondering, yes Yoongi will whine about everything which happened once he regained clarity again. It will come by morning after you and he shared cuddles in your bed and he wakes up to an empty bed and a magical note telling him that you were in your kitchen. He will find you kneeling by the couch as you attempt to fix the holes he ripped into the cushions and Yoongi will sit down next to said holes and give you the shiest glances you ever saw on him and mere seconds later, you and he will talk about last night. You will be terribly excited while Yoongi will whine at first about how reckless it was, but in the end he will giggle with you and tell you how nice you made him feel and that you healed wounds he never thought capable of healing. Then you will attempt to fix the couch together, stealing kisses and snuggles way too often as your giggles just didn’t seem to want to stop.
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Elementary, Chapter Four
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pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x teacher!reader
chapter rating: E (18+ ONLY, oral (fem rec), unprotected piv, dirty talk??, unedited/unbeta’d)
word count: 4.3k
series masterlist | joel masterlist
“Alright, everybody. Please remember to fill out your reading log during the break,” you talked over a room full of distracted tweens excited for the upcoming Spring Break. “Am I talking to air?”
“I hear you,” Sarah answered your question as she approached your desk, her backpack slung over her shoulder. “And I wanted to apologize for last Friday. I was having a bad day and Jessie was making a big deal about me leaving the sleepover—“
“Sarah, sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize,” you assured with a kind smile. “Have you talked to Jessie?”
“Yeah, dad took me over to her house on Sunday night and we talked it out. I guess she was offended by me leaving, but I explained to her that I just get anxious sometimes and can’t—“ She sighed. “It just feels better being at home with my dad. I don’t have to try to be funny or cool or whatever.”
You smiled at the tenderness of Joel and Sarah’s bond.
“But anyways,” she continued. “My dad wanted me to ask if you were busy tonight—he still hasn’t gotten a new cellphone which, if you’re wondering, is why he’s having me act as the messenger.”
“Isn’t he coming to pick you up today?”
“No, him and Uncle Tommy are in San Antonio meeting with a developer or something like that,” she informed. “My grandma is picking me up.”
“Oh, well, you can tell your dad I’m free like always,” you chuckled and tried not to think about the fact that as today’s parking lot attendee, you’d have to come face to face with the mother of the man you’d been casually seeing for three weeks now. “Oh, and tell him he needs to get a new phone so you don’t have to play messenger anymore.”
“Trust me, we’ll probably be waiting years until he finally breaks down and gets himself one.” The two of you shared a laugh.
“In that case—“ You jotted your landline and cellphone number on a post-it note. “Here.”
“Miss? My mom wanted me to let you know that I won’t be doing any of my reading logs this week,” another student approached your desk and very sassily delivered his news. You chuckled out a scoff and fixed your attention on him while Sarah went back to her desk.
“Okay, Michael, why won’t you be doing your reading logs?” You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for his response.
“Because it’s Spring Break,” he defended.
“Yes, I’m aware. That’s why I didn’t assign any homework. All you need to do is keep reading at least a chapter a day of your book—“
“I don’t want to read my book. That’s basically homework.”
You gave him an incredulous look as you tried to gather what little patience remained in you after a long year of teaching fifth graders.
“No, Michael. Homework is what Mrs. Hill gave her students—a packet a day. What I’m asking if you is to do what you’re already supposed to be doing—reading a chapter a day of whatever book you want. That’s not homework, that’s just an activity.”
“Well, I’m not doing it.” He remained firm, mimicking your stance by crossing his arms over his chest.
The bell ringing interrupted whatever onslaught of frustration you were just about to bestow upon him, his smug smirk boiling your blood as he turned and shuffled out of class.
“Have a good break,” you called out to the rest of your students as they shuffled out of the classroom in a single file line.
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“Hey,” Joel sighed out his greeting as he entered his mother and father’s ranch home on the outskirts of Austin. Sarah was sat in the living room on the floral loveseat covered in plastic while her grandfather, Paul, sat in his rocking chair fast asleep.
“How did it go?” Sarah offered him a smile as he rounded the corner of the loveseat to plop down beside her.
“Went alright,” he replied. “Got a good chunk of jobs lined up for me and the guys, so we’ll be good on work ‘til the end of the year.”
“That’s good!” She beamed, bringing a hesitant smile to her father’s face. Joel never liked to celebrate his successes—something he likely learned from his father. “Oh,” she tapped his arm as she remembered your conversation from earlier, quickly informing him about your lack of plans for tonight. “She also gave me her number to give to you.”
Joel watched as Sarah fished the note out of her pocket before handing over the crumpled up piece of paper.
“You think she’s home yet?” Joel checked his watch.
“Dunno,” she shrugged. “But grandma was talking about all of us going out for dinner tonight.”
“Oh, was she?” Joel looked disappointed by the sudden emergence of plans when he spent all day hoping that tonight would be spent just with you.
“Joel?” Mary, Joel’s mother, came walking down the stairs with a smile. “Bout time you came to see us.”
“I’m busy with the new company, ma, you know that,” he argued as he stood up to greet her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“Busy with the company or with your new lady friend?” she teased with a grin. Joel whipped his eyes over to his daughter who already held her hands up in defense.
“My bad.”
Joel chuckled out a scoff before turning back to his mother. “It’s new.”
“And? That’s all you gotta say about her?”
“To you. For now.” Joel followed her into the kitchen, Sarah trailing shortly behind.
“What do you think I’m gonna do? Hunt her down and force her to look at your baby book?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he retorted with a mischievous smile.
“Joel Miller, I swear if you do not give me at least a summary of this woman—“
“Alright, alright,” Joel sighed and looked to Sarah who was beaming with amusement. “She’s Sarah’s teacher. We met at a parent/teacher conference. She’s…nice.”
“Nice?” Both women repeated the descriptor as if it was an insult.
“Dad, you’re basically in love. I’m sure you can find a better word than nice,” Sarah reasoned.
“She is nice. Everything else is private,” he argued.
“Well, I guess we’ll find out at dinner tonight,” his mother shrugged with a smirk. Joel turned wild in the eyes and shook his head.
“No, no, no. She ain’t—y’all aren’t—no.”
Sarah laughed at her dad’s fluster and looped her arm around his waist hug him. “It’ll be okay, pops. Just breathe.”
“Oh, to hell with that,” Joel shook his head again, turning to his mother. “I haven’t even taken her out for a real dinner yet, ma. I’m not invitin’ her out to deal with y’all.”
“Deal with? Son, we are as civilized as anybody else—“
“Ma, you got a plunger? I clogged the damn toilet!” Tommy shouted from upstairs and Joel gestured in his direction as though to prove his point.
“Well not here. We’re in the comfort of our own home,” she defended as she made her way out of the kitchen to help her son. “She’s comin’ tonight! Better go on and call her up.”
“Christ,” he sighed and stomped over to the landline, his scowl fixed on Sarah as he dialed the number. “If she never speaks to us again, it’s on you.”
“She’ll love us.”
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Although it wasn’t what you were expecting for the night, Joel’s call to invite you out to dinner with his family was impossible to decline just due to how much you missed him. Even if you turned into a ball of nerves every time you had to meet “the parents”, it was worth it just to be in the same room with him, especially after the day you had.
At seven, Joel, Sarah, and Tommy came to pick you up, but for once it was you running late. You invited them inside to wait while you finished getting ready, handing Sarah the TV remote and watching as her and Tommy instantly started bickering over what to watch while Joel followed you into your bedroom.
“How is this the first time I’ve ever been in your room?” He found a seat on the foot of your bed while you sat at your vanity, finishing up on taming your hair.
“Because I’m old fashioned,” you turned back to give him a wink. “But also because I can’t seem to get you alone long enough to give you a proper tour.”
“I know,” he sighed and walked over to you, standing behind you. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, the warmth and softness of his lips curing something that had been aching inside of you since the last time he kissed you. “I made a deal with my mom. She watches Sarah this weekend, and I suck it up and allow you to meet my chaotic family.”
“Mm, so I get you all weekend is what you’re saying?” You smirked at him through the mirror.
“All. Damn. Weekend.” He kissed your neck as a promise, your eyes fluttering closed as you relished in his proximity. “No interruptions. Just me and you.”
“S-sounds good,” you stuttered through your haze of lust and Joel smiled against your skin, seemingly amused by his effect on you.
“You got chills,” he rasped, his fingertips trailing up and down your arm. “That all me?”
“Just wait until you see what else you do to me,” you purred back, earning a groan of desperation.
“You two done yet?” Tommy called out from the living room. “We got places to be.”
“Save that thought for after dinner,” Joel mumbled against your cheek as he gave you one more kiss.
Five or so minutes later and you were on your way to the restaurant, nerves now replacing the butterflies you felt in your stomach as you thought about what his parents would be like. If they were anything like Tommy, Sarah, and Joel, you had nothing to worry about, but it was the uncertainty that drove you mad.
“You alright?” Joel stayed back with you as you pretended to have forgotten something in the truck, Tommy and Sarah heading into the restaurant to meet up with Joel’s parents.
“Just nervous,” you shrugged with a soft smile. “Anything I should avoid bringing up?”
“Politics. My dad’s a big Republican, so,” he winced. “But my mom is about as liberal as they come, so at least there’s that.”
“So I should stick to talking to your mom, then,” you joked.
“Come on,” he nudged his head towards the restaurant and laced his fingers with yours. “I’ll be right there next to ya, and as soon as we’re done with dinner it’ll be just us all weekend.”
You took a deep breath of courage and gave him a cheeky but bashful smile, bringing a similar one to his own face.
“God, I just can’t help myself—“ Joel cupped your cheek and tilted your head up to meet him as he leaned in for a surprising kiss, your hand finding purchase on his wrist to ground yourself.
“Mm,” you hummed as you pulled away from him earlier than he would’ve liked. “Let’s not stall anymore. Don’t want your mom to think I’m a bad influence.”
“She knows me well enough to know I’m the bad influence, but alright,” he tugged you off towards the restaurant with your hand in his.
As the hostess guided you through the busy dining room, you leaned further into Joel. He didn’t seem to mind the clinginess, his hand letting go of yours so that he could slide an arm around your waist.
“There y’all are!” A stout woman you presumed to be Joel’s mother stood up from the table where the rest of the Millers were seated, a big, dimpled grin on her face that resembled Joel’s.
“Ma,” Joel introduced the two of you by name, his eyes fixed on you as you shook her hand and allowed her to seat you beside her rather than next to Joel like you’d hoped. You gave Joel a nervous look from across the table as he sat himself directly across from you beside his father.
“It is so nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Mary fixed her attention on you. “Joel’s been pretty tight lipped about ya, so why don’t you tell me a little about yourself.”
“Well,” you chuckled nervously, but Joel’s reassuring eyes from across the table helped calm the frenzy of anxiety coursing through your veins. “I’m a teacher, have been for a few years now but this is my second year in Austin.”
You found it surprisingly easy to talk to Mary, her warm smile and sense of humor similar to that of her children and granddaughter. You told her where you grew up, where you’d been before coming to Austin, about what you liked to do in your free time, but mostly you told her the story of how you and Joel came to be.
Across the table, his father continued to remain stern and silent, only mumbling to his boys or to Sarah every now and again to remind them to use their manners. He seemed like a tough egg to crack, and while you were up for the challenge eventually, earning his respect today seemed unlikely.
“Joel, you ever tell her about your singin’?” Tommy spoke up from down the table, his question bringing a blush to Joel’s face.
“Yeah, I mentioned it.” He looked over to you and cracked the most subtle of smirks, no doubt remembering what occurred shortly after.
“Well, you gonna sing for her?” Mary asked with mischief in her tone, bringing an amused smile to your face.
“Not here,” he sassed, tilting his head at her mockingly.
“Why not here?” You prodded with a smirk, your foot finding his calf beneath the table. Joel gave you a chuckle and shook his head. “Oh, come on. Please?”
“Ya know, I pride myself on my ability to not cave into peer pressure,” he retorted with a quirked eyebrow, daring you to challenge him. You bit your lip and looked down at your plate, too flustered by everything him to look him in the eyes—especially given the current company.
“So, Sarah, how are you likin’ the whole dad datin’ your teacher thing?” Tommy asked, and the question earned the attention of the entire table.
“I don’t mind it,” she shrugged. “Maybe I would if it was Mrs. Clarkson from last year.”
“God,” Joel shook his head at the mere idea. “That woman terrified me and I’m a grown man.”
“Oh,” Sarah called your name. “Did you tell dad about Michael?”
“Michael? Who’s…uh, who’s Michael?” Joel’s jealousy was as clear as day, bringing amused grins to almost everyone’s faces aside from the ever stoic Mr. Miller.
“Michael is my student,” you clarified and eased his concern. “A shitty student at that.”
“Oh yeah?” Tommy asked with a chuckle.
“Yeah, he’s—well, I guess I probably shouldn’t be saying this around you, Sarah.”
“I promise I won’t talk about it,” she replied earnestly and you easily caved.
“He is just the absolute worst. And his parents are even shittier,” you lamented with a laugh. “Today he came up to me while Sarah and I were talking at the end of class, and flat out told me that he wasn’t going to be doing the reading log during the break because his mom said so.”
“Why doesn’t he just fake it like everybody else?” Tommy chimed in but quickly received an elbow from his niece.
“I don’t fake my reading logs,” she corrected.
“Yeah…right.” He gave her a sarcastic nod and turned back to you. “I’m just speaking from experience. I never did any of that shit and I turned out…well, I turned out decent.”
“Yeah. Maybe I am being too demanding,” you shrugged, turning back to your plate.
“No,” Joel was quick to interject. “Don’t listen to Tommy—he couldn’t even get into community college. You’re the one who went to school for six years to do this. You know what you’re doin’, that kid’s just a prick.”
You couldn’t help but fall in love with him a little bit as he stood up for you, his foot pressed to yours beneath the table acting as a sort of promise that he’d always be here to do this—to remind you of your worth.
“Thank you,” you mouthed just to him. “Anyways, it’s his loss—and yours too, Tommy. Reading is fun.”
Tommy mimicked your smile and chuckled. “I guess I’ll take your word for it.”
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“Alright, don’t give your grandma a hard time,” Joel ordered Sarah as he hugged her goodbye in the driveway outside your house.
You watched the scene from the doorway, smiling at the way he swayed her and kissed the top of her head. If only all little girls could grow up with a father like Joel—not flawless, but as close to it as a man could get. There was no denying his love for her and vice versa, and the fact that you were being let into this beautiful family felt like nothing less than an honor.
“Alright, go on,” he ruffled the top of her hair with a playful grin. “I love ya, and I’ll see you Sunday night, alright?”
“Love you too,” she gave him one more hug before turning to you standing up the walkway. With a wave, she wished you goodbye as well, your smile widening at the gesture. “See you!”
“See ya, Sarah!”
Joel met you by the front door and watched Tommy and Sarah pull out of your driveway before he turned to you with an anticipatory grin.
“Well, just us now,” he husked, playfulness thick in his southern drawl.
“Whatever will we do?” you teased, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging him closer.
Joel cradled your cheek and jaw with both hands as he leaned down to kiss you, both of you still wearing your grins through it. Walking you backwards into the house, you giggled into his mouth as you nearly stumbled over before he caught you.
“Clumsy,” he accused in a rasp.
“Your fault,” you countered and he laughed against you.
Joel’s hands traveled to your hips to keep you flush against him as he kicked the front door shut, your smiles fading as the kiss deepened into something so filthy even the humor of the almost-fall couldn’t penetrate it.
“God,” he groaned against your lips as he continued walking you through the living room to your bedroom. “I want you so bad, baby girl. Fuck.”
“Remember what we were talking about earlier?” you purred against his jaw as your kisses trailed down to his neck, Joel’s body pinning you against your open bedroom door. He hummed against you in confirmation and you smiled, taking one of his hands off your waist to guide it beneath the linen of your dress, his breath ragged as his fingertip grazed over your thighs until they reached the soaked lace of your panties. “This is what you do to me, Joel.”
“Jesus fuckin—baby, I need you,” he whimpered and sunk to the floor in front of you, his dark and dreamy eyes peering up at you for permission as he lifted the hem of your dress up. “Can I taste you?”
“God, you never have to ask,” you moaned back, taking the fabric bunched in his hands and holding it for him. Joel’s eyes dropped from yours down to the image right in front of him, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip at the sight of your white lace thong.
“You’re gonna make me lose my mind, baby,” he groaned again, his hands now running up and down the outside of your thighs.
The anticipation could have killed you, your chest heaving and skin prickling with chills from the simple sensation of his breath fanning over the wet spot on your panties, the lust in his eyes. Combing your fingers through his hair, you attempted to silently urge him on and he seemed to pick up on it, his hands sliding back up to your hips to hook into the tiny band of your underwear and slip them down your legs until they were kicked off.
“Baby,” he cooed as you draped one of your knees over his broad shoulders to open yourself up to him, his mouth watering at the sight. “I’m never gonna wanna do anythin’ else but stay right—“ He placed a kiss to your mound and your entire body jerked. “Here.”
His tongue swiped through your folds and you melted against the door behind you, your fingers gripping his hair now as you struggled to stay upright. Joel practically growled at your taste, his hands gripping your thighs as if he was holding on for dear life.
“Fuck,” you moaned as he tensed his tongue to circle your swollen bud until your arousal started to drip down your thighs. “That’s so good.”
Your praise earned you another growl, his tongue now flicking and circling, lapping and sucking against you until your thighs were shaking from the pressure building in your lower stomach.
“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, baby girl.” He sucked your clit and made you cry out his name. “Yeah, just like that. Keep sayin’ my name, baby. Let everyone know.”
“Joel, fuck!” Your orgasm was imminent, the tingling in your thighs that traveled down to your toes and back up your spine fogging any sense of coherency you may have once had in his presence. “I—fuck, I—“
“I know, baby. Can taste it.” He shook his head and flattened his tongue against your clit, his eyes meeting with yours. You wanted to cry, but the pleasure you were feeling was too consuming. The only thing you could do as Joel sucked your now throbbing bud into his mouth was to cry out his name like a prayer—some sort of wicked salvation that beat out any other holier counterpart. “Come on, baby. Cum on my tongue. Wanna taste it…every fuckin’ drop—“
“Fuck!” You crumpled to the ground, your back sliding against the door until you were kneeling with him on the floor, your body shuddering as you rode out the waves of your euphoria.
Joel was quick to act, guiding you down onto your back while you were still lost in bliss. He kissed your face as if you were his most prized possession, his hands worshipping the curves of your still-clothed body.
“Need you, baby,” he whispered against your jaw as he placed a love bite there, your head nodding to give him consent to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to you after that mind blowing climax he just gave you.
You only heard the clinking of his belt buckle before feeling his cock stretch you open, a choked cry slipping from your lips in time with Joel’s wanton groan. You peeled your eyes open and looked down at the place you were joined, delighting in the fact that neither of you were undressed, the neediness of the moment turning you both feral.
“God damn,” he groaned and let his head hang as he stilled himself deep inside of you after only a few thrusts. “About to embarrass myself. You feel too fuckin’ good, baby.”
“Don’t worry about lasting long,” you stroked his beard. “I just wanna feel you.”
“God, I—” He choked on his words and leaned over your body, propping himself up by his elbows on either side of your head. You wrapped your legs around his waist and dug your heels into his jean-clad ass to urge him on, desperate to feel him spill inside of you.
“Want you to cum for me,” you moaned, pressing kisses into the side of his face as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. “Cum inside me—“
“Fuck,” he shouted as his cock thrust into you faster and deeper, your wetness squelching around him and filling the room along with both of your ragged moans. “I’m gonna—fuck, baby. You sure?”
“I’m on birth control, it’s okay,” you promised. Joel lifted his head to look into your eyes, his face scrunched up in something akin to agony but you were sure it couldn’t have been further from it.
“Gonna fill you up, beautiful,” he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. “Gonna have you dripping for me.”
“Yes!” His cock was hitting something inside of you that was making you see stars, your mind going back to that pleasure-dumb state you’d just been lost in, and before you had time to warn him, your walls fluttered in time with his cock spilling inside of you. “I’m coming, Joel, fuck!”
“Me too, baby,” he choked out through a string of profanity and moans. “Fuck, so fuckin’—you’re perfect.”
The two of you stayed there for a while, both of you turned into puddles of post-climactic bliss as you laid in each other’s arms. Joel hissed as he pulled out and rolled over onto the carpet beside you, both of you turning your heads to look at each other with wide, almost childlike grins.
“Be my girlfriend?” Joel choked out, nerves thick in his shaky voice. You laid there speechless for a moment, unsure of how to tell him that ever since you met him you’d been dreaming of the day those words would leave his lips. So, you kept it simple, a smile gracing your face as you reached over to hold his face.
“I would love to.”
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distantdarlings · 6 months
Text
BY THE FIREPLACE (PT. 2) // t. nott
RATING: PG -13 / 1.4K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Fem Reader
+ SUMMARY - *Requested* A continuation of the interesting situation you unknowingly placed yourself in. Theo takes you, in your Animagus form, back to his dorm room and attempts to take a nap with his new friend. (Comedy?) (Read Part One first)
+ WARNINGS - Language, nothing else really
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing)
New Perspective - P!ATD (it's stuck in my head)
*I just wanted to say that I am sorry this is so short and may not be the best follow-up to Part One, but I really hope you like it. It was kind of rushed because I had a really busy, frustrating day, but wanted to write!*
---
Every few minutes, Theo would shoot a glance towards his annoyingly persistent group of friends. His glare became sharper and sharper each time, but, still, they refused to stop giggling and teasing.
He could barely focus on his bloody work and they were absolutely not going to stop any time soon. He groaned and got to his feet, shoving all of his schoolwork quickly into his bag, keeping you safely cradled in his arms. Maybe you’d attach to him and sleep at the end of his bed and stuff. He’d have to get some cat food.
Their giggling and whispers came to a stop as soon as he stood. They watched him closely, waiting to see what he’d do next.
“Oh, so now you all shut up?” Theo growled. “I’m trying to get work done. How am I supposed to do anything when you all are—?” He mocked their giggling.
“Sorry, Theo, we just missed you,” Mattheo joked, “we wanted to be close to you.”
“Yeah, right, why are you really here?” Theo asked.
None of them answered. Just all glanced at each other and started giggling again. He rolled his eyes and started towards the library’s entrance.
“Hey, where are you going?” Pansy asked.
“To my dorm and you better not follow!” Theo warned, never looking back. Their laughter only got louder. He groaned in frustration and slammed through the library door, careful not to jostle your sleeping figure too much. You slept pretty heavily for a cat.
He pushed through the occasional crowd of students on their way to classes as he headed towards his dorm. Hopefully, nobody would be in there and he’d finally get some peace and quiet for him and you. He had a million things to get done.
He walked rather quickly until he came upon the Slytherin dorm entrance. He spoke the password and made his way across the threshold, melting at the small coo you made in your sleep.
“Aw, I love you, little thing,” he laughed. “You don’t belong to Hogwarts anymore, you belong to me. What should I name you?”
He followed the staircase up to his assigned dorm and finally tossed all of his stuff onto the desk next to his bed. He gently set you down on his freshly-made bed and assured himself that you were wrapped up cozily in your little wool blanket. A small smile appeared on his face.
Distantly, he could hear his irritating friends downstairs. They laughed and joked noisily with other Slytherin students down in the common room. He refrained from rolling his eyes as he set all of his work out yet again. He was getting this shit done—today, with no more interruptions.
He grabbed his wand and flicked it at the door. The wooden lock against it landed with a heavy clunk. If someone needed to come in, they could state their name and business.
You stretched in your sleep once more, releasing a purring yawn. He smiled at the motion and brushed the tip of his quill’s feather over your face gently.
He turned back to the papers and books scattered across his desk and set to work. Circling answers, scrawling out short answers, and highlighting passages. The warmth from the sun pushed through the window, gently heating his hands, face, and a sliver of your back on his bed. Every few minutes or so, he’d lean over and run a soothing hand over your head or back.
His friends had quieted down downstairs and seemed to have gotten bored of whatever stupid joke they were playing on Theo. He figured they were just trying to get him to think they were talking about him or hiding something from him. Which was really annoying. He’d never done anything like that to them, so what the hell?
As his hand worked the quill across the parchment, his mind wandered a bit. He wondered if you’d ever gone back and picked up your stuff from the library. Maybe you’d forgotten it? It doesn’t really seem like you were the type of person to forget all of your stuff, though. He shrugged. Maybe he’d go down later and see if it was still there.
After about an hour or so of working, Theo pushed out of the desk chair and pulled his body into a tall stretch. He groaned at the release and popped his knuckles. He was sort of tired, come to think about it. Maybe it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if he skipped his fourth period. He’d tell Professor Sprout he wasn’t feeling well, which, after accidentally being transfigured into a toad in McGonagall’s earlier, he didn’t exactly feel one-hundred percent.
Just as he was scooting you gently up next to his pillows and slipping beneath the comforters, a knock came at the door.
“Who is it?” Theo asked.
“It’s us, man, just let us in.” Mattheo.
“Absolutely not, I’m busy.”
“Please, we really think it would be in your best benefit to open the door.”
“Do you need something out of here?” Theo called back, settling comfortably beneath the blankets.
“No, but—”
“Is someone injured or dying?”
“No—”
“Then you don’t need to be in here—you’re just going to keep picking on me,” Theo grumbled. He tucked his arm under the covers and curled his hand around you, pulling your back against his chest. You purred in your sleep. You were so warm.
He ignored their persistent pounding at the door and settled in, closing his tired eyes. This was going to be the best nap of his life.
He was teetering on the edge of being awake and not when he felt something move against him. It felt like something had touched his legs. Maybe you’d gotten up and moved farther down the bed. But he was pretty sure you were still curled beneath his arm. He wasn’t sure and he was too tired to care. Though it really felt weird…
“Ugh, why doesn’t he just open the door?” Pansy grunted, slamming her hand against the wood once more. “The teasing was funny, but I didn’t think he’d actually take her to his dorm!”
“Yeah, I don’t think any of us did,” Mattheo pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Why was she sleeping in her Animagus form, anyways?” Enzo asked. The other two shrugged.
From the other side of the door, it had gotten completely quiet, and they all wondered if he had laid down with you. They all hoped he hadn’t. It would have been funny to see you wake up, confused and angry, in his lap, but it might not be so funny if you were in his bed. You might think you’d been kidnapped or something.
Just as the thought hit, they all started pounding on the door more.
Somewhere near the back of your head, you heard muffled pounding and shouting. It sounded like a small army parading about the room. You wondered if the Quidditch team was practicing outside the library’s window or something like that.
You didn’t mean to fall asleep. Hopefully, nobody had moved your stuff. You still had a ton of work to do. You groaned and raised your arms to stretch out when you realized the bottoms of your arms caught more material. The armchair was bigger than you realized. And a lot more comfortable…
You began rubbing sleep from your eyes as you started to lean up. As you did, something caught your body and held you pinned against the chair. You opened your eyes in confusion, looking at the material below you. Not a chair….a bed? Had someone taken you back to your room? You glanced down and saw a tanned arm wrapped tightly around you. What the fuck? Maybe you got laid.
You turned over and came within inches of Theodore Nott’s nose.
“This is literally the weirdest situation I’ve ever been in…” Enzo sighed. They all had given up on trying to beat the door down and sat against the wood, waiting for one of the two of you to wake up. They hoped it wasn’t going to be too bad of a situation.
Best case, you guys awkwardly brushed it off and went your separate ways. Worse case….
A shrill scream pierced their ears. They, and half of the common room, flinched at the sudden noise. That high-pitched whistle was soon accompanied by a more dulcet shout. Both drew out for at least 30 seconds. The three students cringed at the realization that you two had woken up.
“Fuck,” Mattheo said. They all dropped their faces into their hands.
Part 3!
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Text
I feel a bit silly writing this because I’m sure other people must have but I’ve not seen anything about it
(SPOILERS - I’ll also tag)
I really love how we see Coriolanus’s character descent into who he becomes through each of his kills
His first kill is Bobbin. It was self-defence, kill-or-be-killed. If he hadn’t done it, he probably would have been killed himself, but this sticks with him. Coriolanus is horrified when he realises he took someone’s life. He thinks about it for a long time.
His next kill is Mayfair Lipp, the mayor’s daughter. It’s not self-defence, but he sees it that way. In a way, he’s got a point. She would have reported him, and he would have been hanged. So would Lucy Gray, so he shot her. This time, however, he had a choice. Maybe not much choice, but it was there. He chose to shoot her, but it doesn’t affect him anywhere near as much as Bobbin’s death
The third is the hardest. He doesn’t pull the trigger or tie the noose, but he might as well have. He betrays Sejanus. Sejanus who loves him like a brother. Sejanus who he has known since they were children. He made the decision in a moment and he questions himself afterwards, but he still made that choice. He reasons to himself internally that it was necessary and Sejanus was bound to get himself in trouble, anyway, right? Right? So it’s okay. But it’s not okay. The blood is on his hands and he keeps thinking of the moments they spent together before the betrayal. He benefits from his death and is rewarded for his loyalty. How ironic
Next is Lucy Gray. Possibly. For argument’s sake, let’s say he did kill her. He calls out for her, his gun slung over his shoulder. He realises how she might be scared, the gun sending the wrong message… but he doesn’t put it back. He brings it with him, not to use it, he tells himself. He would never use it, definitely not. He just… wants to talk some sense into her. As soon as the snake bites him, he abandons all pretence. Even though he admitted moments ago he understood why she would be scared, now she’s the enemy. Now she has to pay. How dare she. Not even an hour ago, he had plans to run away with her. He claimed he loved her. They were going to be together. Now, he’s chasing her through the trees with a gun in his hands and he’s screaming for her to show herself. He shoots a lot. When he thinks he finally got her, he’s pleased. It was her own fault, he tells himself, for the snake trick. Even afterwards, when he finds out that the snake wasn’t venomous - which Lucy Gray definitely would have known and therefore was only intended to slow him down - he doesn’t have a single moment of regret. The only thing he regrets is falling for her in the first place and he swears he’ll never do it again. His heart is stone. Frozen like snow.
Finally, his last kill (before the ones that take place once this book ends) is Dean Highbottom. This is the first kill that is not made in a split-second. This is premeditated. He carefully adds just enough rat poison to the morphling, sure to wear gloves, and sets his plan in motion. He has every opportunity to change his mind, to not resort to violent means. Not only does he not regret it, he feels proud. Excited, even. He hopes Dean Highbottom will know it was him that killed him
By the epilogue, Snow has gotten over (or buried deep enough) what guilt he had over Sejanus enough to use the Plinths’ grief to his advantage without any conflicting feelings. He’s convinced himself Lucy Gray was the villain who played him, when she was just a sixteen-year-old girl who was forced into a terrible situation. As we know, he goes on to directly and indirectly kill thousands between TBOSAS and THG, too many. I doubt he remembers most of them, just nameless, faceless children. He doesn’t care anymore, not like he did the first time
The whole world is his Arena. Snow lands on top until it melts
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polaroidpascal · 25 days
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let me || frankie morales
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AO3 || MASTERLIST
pairing : frankie morales x f!reader
summary : after two weeks of frankie coming home knocking on death’s door from exhaustion, you decide to give him a break.
tags : fluff !!, no use of y/n, you taking care of frankie, very small nods to sex, undressing, showering together, cuddling, short and sweet glimpse into domestic life with frankie 🥹
WC : ~1.8k
a/n : i’ve never written pure fluff before, but the frankie brainrot has reached an all-time high and i desperately need to take care of this man. hope you like this little slice of domestic life with frankie 🫶 (not beta read or proofread much, just psa!)
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You’re cozied up on your recliner reading a book in the soft light from your lamp when Frankie finally comes home from work.
He opens the door gently, tiredly. He never knows if you’re going to be asleep or not, so he errs on the side of caution just in case. Plus, he’s too exhausted to make more noise anyway.
You watch him from the corner as he sets down his keys. They clink against the ceramic dish that he made for you forever ago after you had moved in together. He sets down his backpack opting to unpack it tomorrow and hangs up his hat, running his hand and fingers through his curls with a long, tired sigh before he kicks off his boots.
He turns around to see you in your pajamas wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, book in hand, the lamp illuminating you from behind like an angel descending from heaven.
No amount of exhaustion can keep the tired smile from blooming across his face. “Hey, baby,” he says, his hand now rubbing the back of his neck to soothe the sore muscles there.
“Hi, love,” you say back sweetly. “How was work?”
He answers with another sigh and tired eyes, his smile fading just a bit remembering the absolutely packed couple of weeks he’s had. “It was alright, just tired.”
Frankie has come home beyond exhausted every day for the past two weeks. The first few nights, you were already asleep by the time he came home, unable to keep your eyes open any longer to wait for him. You had sent him a text telling him to wake you up when he got home, but of course your sweet boyfriend would never do that, not when you look so peaceful in your sleep.
One night, you happened to be awake when he came home, much to his surprise. He tried to play off how drained he was, bringing you in for a hug that swallowed you whole in his broad figure, whisking you off to your bedroom to try and ignore his exhaustion. But you could see it in his eyes from the moment he walked in that he was barely hanging on, and he definitely slept hard that night.
After that, you made sure you were up every night long enough to catch him walking through the door, picking up a new novel series to pass the time while you waited.
You rise from the recliner and shuffle over to Frankie in your fuzzy socks and his t-shirt loosely fitting your frame, the wide neckline exposing your collarbones. “You look tired, Frankie. And I’m not saying that in a mean way.”
He takes you in his arms and kisses the top of your head breathing another sigh, like he’s relearning how to breathe after being so busy all day. “I know, baby.”
You stay wrapped in each other's arms for a minute, Frankie’s head resting atop your own. His dead weight grows each second that passes and you let him stay until you can’t hold him up anymore. You rub and pat his back gently before you whisper, “Why don’t we go take a shower, hm?” looking up when he lifts his head again.
He looks back at you with his big, brown, pouty eyes and mumbles, “But you’re already in your pajamas…”
“I know,” you nod, reaching your hand up to cup his cheek and glancing across his face at his tired and beautiful features. “You’re always taking care of me. Can you let me take care of you this time?”
His eyes are still pouting and nearly half closed now as he pauses, then gently nods, letting you lead him to your bedroom.
He stands in the middle of the room reaching down to the hem of his shirt to undress but your hands stop him. He looks at you confused.
“Let me,” you say. He has no protests.
He watches you lift his shirt exposing his stomach and chest, raising his arms so you can slip it over his head. You toss it to the side while Frankie reaches down to take his socks off. Your hands move down to his belt, slipping it out of the loops of his jeans. It clinks to the floor and you unbutton his pants, slipping them down with his underwear. He watches you the whole time, stepping out when you reach the bottom before you stand up again.
When you meet his gaze, the love radiating from his eyes almost makes your heart burst from your chest. You smile gently at him, reaching up to give him a soft kiss before leading him to the shower.
You run the water warm, more on the hot side, and start to undress yourself. Frankie watches you strip, the way your shoulder blades move as you pull your shirt over your head and unhook your bra. The way your spine flexes as you reach down to pull your pants off and shimmy out of them. How angelically perfect the curves of your body look.
You turn around to look at him and see tears welling in his eyes.
Immediately, your heart drops and you rush to cup his face in your hands. “Oh, Frankie, what’s wrong?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing, nothing, I just…” He looks your face up and down examining all the features he finds so beautiful and takes a breath. “I love you so much,” he says, the end of his sentence getting quiet, tapering off choked in emotion.
You stare at the gorgeous boy in front of you, exhausted from his hard work, so full of emotion that he’s brought to tears, and you feel your own eyes start to sting. All you can do is hug him and bury your face into his chest, his warm, soft skin pressed against you as your arms clasp around him. “I love you too, Frankie.”
You feel his breath get a little quicker as he tries to keep himself in check, the fight against his tears getting harder and harder. You pull back and wipe away a few strays that started rolling down his cheeks before pulling him into the shower.
You wash Frankie head to toe helping him clean the day off. He leans down some so you can wash his hair, making sure to give his scalp a little massage while you suds up his curls. His eyes close and he softly hums as your fingers card through each strand. He loves when you play with his hair.
You gently wash his back, watching the soap slowly roll down his body as you rub circles into his skin. The muscles look tight, flexing some just with the slow breaths he’s taking. You reach up and dig your thumbs into the visible knots you see near the base of his neck where he was rubbing before. His head drops forward a bit, a soft groan leaving his lips at the relief.
You turn him around and wash his chest, watching the soapy water cascade down his pecs and stomach.
He watches you as best he can, wanting to savor every second, and he can’t help but close his eyes at the soothing feeling of the warm water flowing across his skin… the soap erasing the dirt from the day… and most importantly of all, your feather-light, loving touch behind every movement.
You rinse his chest a little and give him a soft kiss to his sternum, handing him the sponge to wash the rest of his body while you wash your own.
He silently watches you move, feeling himself get emotional again thinking about how lucky he feels to have you. That you’d do this for him. That you care so much about him. The love in his heart threatens to burst at the seams.
When you’re both done, Frankie grabs your hips and carefully spins you around before leaning down for a kiss. A kiss that’s worth a million words all condensed into one little action. A kiss that screams I love you, endlessly and eternally.
You stay under the shower head, lips locked with the silent words of affection being exchanged. You only think to get out when you feel the water starting to run cold.
When you get out, you loosely wrap a towel around yourself before grabbing another to dry off Frankie. You rub his hair and his face, draping it around his shoulders and tip-toeing up to kiss his nose before you finish drying yourself off.
You slip back into your pajamas and Frankie puts on his sweatpants before you both climb into bed together. Frankie immediately plops down on his side of the bed, lying on his back and draping his arms over his eyes as he sighs deep, finally comfortable after the long, long day he’s had.
He feels you crawl into bed with him, your weight shifting the mattress around him as you climb on top of him, legs straddled over his sides.
He moves his arms to look up at you staring at his chest tracing circles onto his skin. His hands rest on the tops of your thighs and he rests his head back on his pillow, but you swear you can feel his entire energy shift.
“You okay?” you ask, resting your palms on his skin.
“I…” he starts, looking up at you with sad eyes. “I love you so much, you know that… I’m just… I’m really tired, baby. I don’t know if I can—“
“Frankie,” you cut him off. “I’m not in the mood either.”
He looks at you with his pouty doe eyes again. “You’re not?”
“No,” you assure him. “I just wanted to look at you. How pretty you are. How lucky I am to have you.”
Frankie’s chest gets tight, the tears stinging in his eyes again as he wonders what he could have possibly done to deserve someone like you. Who loves him unconditionally. Who takes care of him so tenderly. Who is straddled on top of him just because she wants to look at him.
Before you can catch his eyes getting redder, he pulls you down to lay by his side, cradling you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. “It’s me who’s lucky to have you, amor.”
You hum and settle into his embrace, inhaling his clean scent and relaxing against his soft skin. Just as you’re starting to drift off, you hear a faint mumble, “Thank you.”
And you don’t even need to respond. You just press your body closer somehow, planting a kiss to his chin before nuzzling into his neck.
And it’s the only answer Frankie needs.
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moonstruckme · 8 months
Note
Hi! I am absolutely in love with your writing! The way you portray our boys is just *chefs kiss*
Anywho, I was wondering if I could request poly!marauders x plus size reader? Maybe she is very confident until somebody picks on her and she starts becoming obsessed with dieting and stuff. (I'm struggling a lot with that rn) just a bunch of worry and comfort from our boys.
If you don't feel comfortable writing this or just the prompt I gave it's okay. Ily!♡
Hi, thanks for requesting my love! I'm really sorry you're struggling right now, I know how hard it can be and hope you're doing your best to take good care of yourself. You're beautiful just as you are <33
cw: size insecurity, behavior that hints at disordered eating
poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.2k words
The worst part is, you know they weren’t even really trying to insult you. 
You smiled as best you could, said your thanks politely, and moved on. Moved on outwardly, that is. Inside, the words play over and over in your head, like a song on the radio that gets worse each time you listen to it. It wasn’t that they were vicious, or particularly clever, or even wrong. It’s just, you’re not used to people commenting on your body like that. 
You know you’re not skinny. So does everyone else. Neither of you typically feel the need to confer about it. Every now and again, some cruel busybody will say something, but that’s fairly easy to brush off. They’re insecure about their own looks, they have nothing better to do than fixate on strangers’ appearances, they’ve probably been on diet pills since they were twelve. You wish them well and mostly forget about it. But what’s worse is when someone comes to you with good intentions. The idea of being perceived as pitiful or wrong—really, having your physical form perceived at all—by someone who seems to want the best for you is what really hurts. That’s what makes you want to hide, to shrink yourself down until they can’t see you anymore. To become the invisible status quo. 
It’s why, over the last few days, anything skintight or remotely showy has been relegated to the back of your closet in favor of things that hide your figure. Why you’ve stopped drawing attention to yourself with colorful makeup and instead started focusing on your health. Well, your health as it presents itself externally. 
“Anyone else fancy a dessert?” Sirius muses as you sit reading on the couch, Remus reading the next book in the series beside you. 
“Um, no,” James says, holding up a hand of cards from the game he and Sirius have been playing, “you only want to go so you don’t have to stick around and lose.” 
“Whatever my other, subconscious motives may be,” Sirius says guilelessly, “I really feel like something chocolate. Don’t you, Moons?”
That’s always a safe bet. Remus looks up from his book, intrigued. “I could go for some chocolate.” 
Sirius grins. “What about you, gorgeous?”
That’s usually a safe bet too. But you shouldn’t. “Thanks, but I’m still full from dinner.” 
Sirius looks cheated, and Remus cocks his head at you. “Really? Didn’t seem like you ate much.” He’s not wrong. Remus had made the most incredible feta pasta, it was borderline heartbreaking to leave any on your plate. But you’re trying to practice restraint, and thankfully, James had happily taken care of your leftovers for you. “Did you have a late lunch or something?”
“Mhm.” 
James looks up, eyebrows furrow bemusedly behind his glasses. “No you didn’t, angel. You said you didn’t feel like lunch after we had breakfast together, remember?”
“Oh.” You nod. So what? You’d had a late breakfast, and a decently sized dinner, and why do you really need more than two meals anyway? Who made that rule? You’re a bit hungry, but your body just needs time to adjust to your new routine. It’s used to overindulging. And nothing about today means you deserve dessert. “Right.” 
Sirius wraps his fingers delicately around your ankle, smoothing a path up your shin with his palm. “Darling,” he says, and he looks distracted as he runs his fingers over the old scars on your knee, but you know him well enough to recognize when he’s keyed in, “did you eat anything today, other than breakfast and that little bit of dinner? Any snacks or anything?” 
You can’t help the little rush of pride that goes through you. “No.” 
Sirius doesn’t look proud. In fact, he’s frowning, as are Remus and James. You change tactics. “I’m not really hungry, though.” 
“No?” Sirius' voice is unsettlingly gentle. “Why don’t you want to have dessert tonight, pretty girl?”
“Because,” you say, beginning to feel defensive (though you’re not sure of what), “I don’t need it.” 
“It’s not about need, though,” James says, and why is it beginning to feel like you’re in an argument? “It’s about what you want. Do you want a little something sweet?”
“I…” Yes. The answer is yes, but do you want it more than you want to feel good about yourself? “I think what I want more is to prove to myself that I can go without it.” 
Remus’ scars shift as his face scrunches in concern. “Dove,” he says, and you can’t decide if his tone is more reprimand or pity. You don’t like either option. “Where is this coming from?” 
“I’m just…I’m trying something new,” you decide. “I want to lose a little weight, okay? Nothing crazy.” 
“But why?” James sets down his cards, looking completely befuddled. “Angel, you’re gorgeous. You can do whatever you want, but we love you just like you are.” 
“And,” Sirius adds before you can reply, “we love you most when you’re happy. I sort of thought,” he says, lowering his voice like he’s telling you a secret, “that our late-night treat runs made you happy. No?”
“They do.” You pull your legs up onto the couch, away from Sirius’ touch. “I just…I think it would make me happy to be a more normal size, too.” 
Remus looks gutted. “Honey, you…it’s your body, and you should do whatever feels right for you to be healthy, but…we love you like this,” he insists, ardent. “You’re beautiful, I mean it, and I hate the idea that you might want to change for…well, for anyone other than yourself.” 
You hesitate. You’re not actually sure who you’re doing this for. When had you become one of the people who want for you to be smaller so desperately? “You seriously don’t think I would look better if I were thinner?” You’ve never been one to put much stock into what any men think of your appearance, so you feel silly for asking, but you’re in a vulnerable state. And really, don’t all guys want a girl that looks like the love interests in the movies you all grew up with? 
James looks you in the eye, letting you see the earnestness in his as he says, “You’re absolutely lovely, right here, right now. We wouldn’t change a thing.” 
Your answering smile is oddly watery. Remus makes an awfully lovely cooing sound, leaning over to wrap an arm around your waist and paying no mind to the chub there as he pulls you into his side. “Don’t be upset, darling. You know what I bet will cheer you up?” He smiles as you look up at him questioningly, kissing between your brows. “Some chocolate. How would you feel about that?”
You let out a quiet little laugh. “Pretty good.” 
“Yes!” Sirius pumps his fist in the air, already abandoning his cards and standing up. “I knew you’d come through, gorgeous. Now I think the more pressing question is, do we want chocolate pastries or chocolate ice cream?”
“Ice cream, obviously,” James says. “Before it gets so cold out we don’t feel like it.” 
“Not all of us suffer from weather constraints,” Sirius argues. “I vote pastry.” 
“Why would you bring ice cream up if you didn’t want it? Think long and hard, Pads. Are you going to feel like a frozen dessert when you need three layers to go outside in a few weeks?”
Remus rolls his eyes at you as you follow them out the door, letting your boys continue their bickering all the way to the store.
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hereforhalstead · 1 month
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home.
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Spencer Reid x reader fluff!
thank you SO much for the love on my first post, I’m so glad you liked it! Ill be honest, I started this with a completely different plot in mind but, here we are! Enjoy!
*****
5 days. That’s all it had been, but to him it felt like a lifetime. 
The more he thought about it, he realised, it was the longest you’d ever been apart.
You’d been asked to stay for a week in London with Garcia and Morgan to assist on a case that Emily so lovingly emailed over late last week. 
One minute it simply words on a screen in your inbox, the next you knew you were on a plane over the Atlantic.
Every night you and Spencer had spent as much time as possible on the phone, some evenings only getting 5 minutes but others being hours. But it still wasn’t enough.
You missed him. More than ever.
The case was tough and starting to take its toll on you, it felt never ending and you started to wonder when you’d actually be able to return to the place you called home.
The truth is, London was your actual home. Being born and raised there until your early 20s when you transferred over to the BAU unit and the rest was history.
Yes, it was nice to be back in familiar territories. Moaning about tourists blocking the pavements, stopping every 2 minutes to take photos of a bird sitting on a fence..
 The god awful weather still going strong as you were now on your 5th day of rain, wondering if you would actually see a glimpse of sun before you left.
But home wasn’t London anymore, it was wherever Spencer was. 
And he wasn’t here. 
****
You’d taken the papers back to your hotel room, the sheets all spread across the floor in a disorganised manner yet you still knew where everything was and that worked for you.
You were still in the same clothes that you had put on about 26 hours ago, cold coffee in hand, staring at the black text on the papers as if the answer would just jump out at you if you continued to do so.
Your phone ringing is what brought you out of your trance, letting out a loud yawn before answering it.
“How’s my favourite girl?”
Was all he said and it had you melting, bringing your knees to your chest as you leant back onto the bed.
“Hey Spence” you mumbled back, you could practically hear his smile on the other end of the line forming, just at the sound of your voice. 
“What time is it there?” You added 
“about 2 ish” 
Shit. That meant it was 6am for you, and you didn’t even realise. 
High praise for the blackout curtains in the room I suppose.
“And you’re still awake?” Your voice was sturn
“So are you?” He hit back. Fair play.
“I could’ve just woken up, you don’t know”
But he did. He knew you, sometimes better than you knew yourself.
“This is me you’re talking to baby, do you want me to hang up and ring back so you can see my name on the screen again?” 
Again, you could practically see how he would be sitting. Arm folded across his chest, either book still open in one hand or a hot cup of tea hooked onto his thumb. Smile as big as could be.
“Point taken” you mumbled 
“Tell me about your day” he was quick to respond, you hated yourself for how there was a quick second of the feeling that you couldn’t be bothered. 
You were exhausted and missing him.
You didn’t want to be talking to him over the phone about the same thing you’d been discussing with endless people all day. 
You wanted to be back at home, enveloped in his arms as he pulls you back into him as you try to leave the bed.
Or running your fingers absentmindedly through his hair as he tells you yet another fact about how despite its significance, London was actually the smallest city in the UK.
You missed the little things, you missed him.
“Y/N?” His voice broke the silence as you sighed, words leaving your lips before you had a chance to even process them 
“I miss you, Spencer” 
There was yet another pause, almost a huff coming from his end of the line as he replied
“I miss you too, sweetheart” 
“Spence, honestly I’m drained” you began to ramble 
“I’ve been staring at these same pieces of paper for days, I’m starting to think I’m just wasting their time being here”
He could hear you throw some of the documents onto the floor, bringing your hand to your forehead to relieve some of the tension.
“He’s killed 5 women since I’ve been here Spencer, 5. How useless am I that these women are literally depending on me and here i am, failing them” 
He was hurting, he was hurting because you were hurting. 
“Baby, don’t talk about yourself like that” he assured, you could feel tour bottom lip quiver as the tears formed in your eyes 
“You know they asked you to be over there for a reason, you’re good at your job. You deserve to be there with the best of them and don’t forget that” 
“But I do-“ you tried to cut him off but he was quick to interject “uh uh”
“I will stay on this phone with you until you can tell me you’re good at your job, I don’t care how long it takes, Y/N. I want to hear you say it”
“What about if I don’t say if, just to get you to stay on the phone with me?” You lightly chuckled, heart fluttering as you hear his huff of laughter you so dearly missed.
“I mean, I have to be on the jet in 6 hours so if you’re happy for the whole team to hear our conversation then that works for me”
“Spence, I just feel as though I’m losing my mind. Tell me what I’m missing” you almost pleaded, knowing that if he was here he probably would have this case solved by now and back on the plane home. 
“You know the most important thing? Honestly, it’s what I do all the time and it truly does work”
You sat up in hope, waiting to hear his groundbreaking methods of solution.
“Sleep, Y/N”
You huffed, returning to your hunched back, cross legged position of defeat.
“That’s not fair” you scorned, his light laugh flooding through your ears “I thought you were actually about to help” 
“I mean it sweetheart, you can’t give your best to something on no sleep. I’m worried about you and if I can’t be there to look after you, I need to know that you’re looking after you” 
His words hurt, you knew he was worried but never thought he would just come right out and tell you.
“Fine” you huffed, crooking your neck to keep the phone in place at your ear as you start to get undressed.
“I’ll have a quick shower and then I’ll get into  bed” you assured “then I’ll text you in the morning with how many hours sleep I had”
You waited to hear his laugh but there was nothing.
“Can I ju-“ his tone was filled with doubt, like he was second guessing what he was about to say 
You let the line go quiet, waiting for him to finish his thoughts 
“Can I just stay on the phone with you?” 
You felt as though your legs could give way at the pain in his voice, the desperation to just have more time with you had you filling with guilt.
“Of course, Spence”
There was a hum of happiness and content, practically seeing how he slumped back into the headboard of the bed in the comfort of your words
“Why don’t you tell me about your day?” You questioned, giving up on the idea of the shower as you climbed into bed
“Oh! Funny story actually. Hotch had….”
There it was, the voice of such piece and familiarity that you so badly missed. 
He was your home.
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bradshawsvinyl · 2 months
Text
Castles Crumbling
Tolerate It (Part two)
read part one here.
authors note: not sure if this is the ending you guys were expecting but I hope you like it!
warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of death, miscommunication tropes.
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It was two in the morning when Jake softly unlocked the door to the home he shared with you. He silently took off his shoes and went upstairs to see where you were. He knew taking off on you was wrong. He knew that you just wanted to let him in. All you ever tried to do was love him and all he ever did was shut you out.
He had been planning to propose to you. He was constantly in communication with your best friend Julianna. He was talking to her about things he didn’t quite understand like ring sizes and diamonds. He wanted to make this proposal perfect for you. He wanted to give you everything you deserved and more.
But work was stressing him out. Maverick warned Jake and the rest of the squad that they would be shipping off for an important mission in the next three months. The mission details were classified. All Maverick said was that they’d better prepare their families for the possibility that they might not come back.
Mortality had never scared Jake away from doing his job. He knew he was one of the best fighter pilots in the nation. That was why he was a part of Top Gun.
Mortality never scared Jake until he met you. He knew he loved you. You were the only person he ever saw a future with. Kids, a dog, a white picket fence, he wanted that with you. But in the back of his mind, he knew there was a chance that something could go wrong on a mission. He didn’t want to leave you alone with kids or make you a widow. He couldn’t do that to you. And so he did the only thing he knew how to do. He ran.
Jake crept upstairs and found you sitting up in bed reading a book. “I thought you would be asleep by now.” He said while sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“I can’t sleep if you’re not here. You know that Seresin.” You replied, still looking at the words in your hands.
“I’m sorry.” He said softly. “I shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t right to shut you out and I-“
“Don’t even,” You interrupted him. “You can’t keep doing this to me Jake. It isn’t fair. All I've ever wanted to do was help you. You can’t keep shutting me out.”
“Baby, I know I'm sorry I'm just overwhelmed with work. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You didn’t know what else to do?” You replied, voice rising from anger. “You could’ve talked to me. You didn’t have to leave me here crying like an idiot over something that I don’t even know about.”
“I know it’s just that I'm not the best at dealing with my emotions.” He said softly. “I love you.”
“Why was Julianna calling you then?” You changed the subject.
“What do you…” Jake started.
“Don’t play stupid Seresin. I saw her call you five times in the span of 10 minutes. She’s my friend. You’ve only met her a few times. Why would she be calling you at ten o'clock at night?”
Jake’s just looked at you in disbelief. There was nothing going on between him and Julianna. He was simply asking her for her opinion on how to propose and what ring to buy. She was your best friend after all. He couldn’t believe that you would think he was cheating on you with her. If you asked him to give you the moon, he would’ve done it. No questions asked.
“What are you insinuating?” He said slowly growing more angry when he realized what you thought he was doing.
“I’m insinuating that you’re seeing her on the side.” You said, near tears. “Just tell me the truth Jake. I can’t keep sitting here wondering why you’re shutting me out. You can’t keep leaving me here like an idiot.”
“Listen,” he said while grabbing your hands. “There is nothing going on between me and Julianna. I just needed to ask her something. That’s it. I would never cheat on you. You’re the only person I could ever love.”
“So why won’t you let me in.” You whispered. “If it’s not her then who? You won’t talk to me anymore. You won’t touch me. You barely even look at me.”
Suddenly Jake’s face dropped. “I might not come back.” He said, so softly that you might have missed it if you weren’t right next to him.
“What do you mean you might not come back?” You said growing more and more confused.
“Maverick said that this next mission is going to be dangerous. He said to hope for the best but expect the worst and I just-“ Suddenly Jake started sobbing.
You were shocked. Suddenly things started making sense. He was shutting you out because he didn’t want you to be hurt if he didn’t come back. You knew Jake tended to be more quiet when there was a tough mission coming up.
You pulled him into a tight hug and began to comfort him. “Why didn’t you tell me? I can’t help you if I don’t know what is going on with you.”
“I didn’t know how to tell you. I never wanted to hurt you. I was just trying to protect you.” He said.
“I’m here for you no matter what.” You said, eyes beginning to fill with tears. “We’re a team. You have to tell me if there’s something happening. I love you.”
“I’m sorry.” He said while kissing your cheek. “I didn’t want to be a burden. I should’ve told you about the mission sooner. You’re my rock. I love you.”
As your tears and Jake's tears subside, he holds you tightly. You hold him back feeling all the walls between the two of you crumble.
Jake knew two things for certain. He would come home to you, and he would marry you.
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Mr.Right || Colby Brock
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smut, 18+, minors dni | a/n: it’s about time i wrote about my bby colby. ps i got a new xplr hoodie today at zumiez, i’m so fuckin happy. enjoy lovely’s <3
You couldn’t do it anymore.
Ideally you had the perfect life. Perfect house, neighbors, job. You had more money than you knew what to do with, causing you to lose your passion to make a life for yourself.
You even had the perfect husband, Mr.Right. He was always attentive to you, worshipping the ground you walked on. You stared down at your wedding ring, the obnoxiously large diamond shining in the dim bar lighting.
You told your husband you were going out with your friends, but truth was you needed to get away from all of it. All of the glamour and flattery. This lifestyle was all you were supposed to want, the reoccurring thought haunting you.
Why didn’t it satisfy you?
“Come here often?”
Your gaze lifted from your glass, curiously landing on the man beside you. You were almost unsure of how he got into this bar, his leather jacket throwing off your response. Your eyes finally met his, his blue orbs practically absorbing you.
You cleared your throat, stirring your drink in a bored manner. “Thats a corny line you know,” You say dryly, looking away from the man. He pulled up a chair beside you, making himself comfortable.
“My name is Colby. Let me buy you a drink,”
You lifted up your hand, showing off your wedding ring.
“I’m married, sorry,”
Colby examined your wedding ring, the real authentic jewel not impressing him.
“Where is he?” Colby asked. You arched your eyebrows, finally looking at him again. “Where’s who?” You questioned. Colby smirked, gesturing to your wedding ring. “Mr.Right. I’d love to meet him,” Colby chuckled. You could feel heat rush to your cheeks, your eyes widening slightly. Colby called over the bartender, ordering two shots of one of the most expensive tequilas on the menu.
“You don’t have to say anything. I see. Mr.Right isn’t so right after all,” Colby said, purposefully waiting until the bartender was out of earshot. You narrowed your eyes, glaring at the cocky man in the leather jacket. “You don’t even know me,” You argued. The bartender gave you both a small smile, placing the shots in front of you.
“Put everything she’s had on my tab,”
You rolled your eyes. “What exactly are you playing at? How did you even get in here?” You spat. Colby shrugged, downing his shot with ease. He sat the shot glass back down on the counter, challenging your hardened gaze. You picked up your shot, downing the firey liquid as best as you could. Even after drinking the best of the best, alcohol never came easy to you.
“It’s the way he fucks you, isn’t it?”
You forced yourself to swallow the shot, coughing. You swallowed hard, trying to regain composure.
It wasn’t what Colby said that bothered you, it was the fact he was right. Your husband was vanilla, afraid of experimenting in the bedroom in any capacity. Your marriage was strictly monogamous, your needs never fully being fulfilled. You had cravings and desires he refused to meet, insisting they were foolish fantasies he ‘knew’ would fade over time.
It was the only aspect he lacked in your relationship and you just couldn’t get over it.
“You don’t have to answer me, I can tell by the look on your face you haven’t gotten good dick in a long time,” Colby smirked. You stared at him in disbelief, unable to form a proper response. This delinquent had somehow read you like a book, your eyes trailing down to his hands. Rings decorated his long, slender fingers, while his veins were prominent against his tan skin.
“So, what’s your point? You’re offering to fuck me? I’m not going to pay for sex,” You reply flatly. Colby leaned forward, his mouth next to your ear. You shuddered as his hot breath hit your skin, his fingers brushing some stray hairs behind your ear. “I don’t want your money. All I want is to hear you scream my name and beg for me. I have a place nearby,” Colby purred. Your thighs clenched, butterflies rummaging through your stomach. As if on que, Colby’s offer continued,
“You seem so eager, maybe we shouldn’t wait,”
You swallowed hard, his words alone causing your cheeks to flush red.
“Maybe we shouldn’t,” You quietly agreed, thoughts of all the things he could do to you running through your mind. Colby smirked as he leaned away from you, tossing random bills onto the counter. He grabbed your hand, helping you off of the barstool and guiding you down one of many hallways that existed in this bar. You were surprised that for a bar so exclusive, Colby seemed to know exactly where he was going.
He pushed open the men’s bathroom door, revealing several rows of sinks and stalls. “In here? You can’t be serious. This is absolutely ridiculous-” You argued. Colby shut the door behind you, locking it with ease. In a swift motion he pushed you against the door, his arms pinning you against the cool metal. “No one’s going to interrupt us, trust me. If you want to cum I highly suggest you get on your fucking knees,” Colby said. His eyes studied yours intently, ensuring every move he made was something you could handle.
You slid down to your knees, cringing as your knees hit the cool marble floor. “Stick out your tongue,” Colby ordered, undoing his belt. You could hear the metal clinking as you maintained eye contact with him, doing as you were told. Your thoughts wondered off to what else he could do with that belt, the idea making you rub your thighs together. You flattened your tongue, Colby instinctively licking his lips as he took out his cock. “I assume you’ve had no throat training?” Colby asked curiously. You shook your head no, causing him to give you a playful smile.
“We’ll fix that later, now suck me off whore,”
You took Colby into your mouth, his size preventing him from fully fitting. You bobbed your head on his cock, using one of your hands to help jerk off the length you couldn’t fit. “Nuh uh, no hands. Put em behind your back,” Colby huffed. You slowly put your hands behind your back as instructed, continuing to suck him off as best as you could. The size of his cock was beginning to make your jaw hurt, his tip just almost hitting the back of your throat. Colby admired your efforts, his cock in your mouth one of the hottest things he had ever seen. But he knew you needed guidance.
He reached down, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail. “Relax your jaw for me,” He muttered. You forced your jaw to go slack, Colby’s hips now bucking into you. You gagged as his cock hit the back of your throat, Colby’s groans echoing off of the bathroom walls. You felt so filthy, on your knees in a public bathroom, letting a delinquent use your throat as he pleased. But you fucking loved it.
You felt tears flooding your waterline, the salty teardrops dripping down your cheeks as Colby continued using your mouth. “Fuck, you’re fucking hot,” Colby praised, removing his cock out of your mouth. You gasped for air, saliva beginning to drip down your chin. “Cmere baby,” Colby ordered. You grabbed his hand, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your makeup was ruined, your mascara trailing down your cheeks. Colby didn’t seem phased it, if anything he looked as if he thought you were prettier than before.
“Hi pretty girl, turn around for me,” Colby purred. He used his thumb to wipe away your tears, his other hand helping you turn around. Colby lifted up your dress with ease as you leaned against the bathroom counter on your shoulders. “I want you to watch yourself as I make you cum on my fingers. If you look away i’ll stop. Understand?” Colby asked sharply. He caressed your ass, tracing the sensitive flesh with his fingertips.
“I understand,” You whimpered, cool air rushing between your thighs as Colby slid your panties down. Your face was pink, your mouth forming into the shape of an O as Colby slid the first finger inside of you. He curled it, causing you let out a desperate groan. Your body craved more, your walls squeezing him, searching for friction. “You’re doing so good for me, good girl,” Colby praised, sliding another finger inside of you.
He curled his fingers upwards, causing you to grip the sink as you moaned his name. “I see, you like that huh?” Colby asked mockingly, before picking up the pace. Your husband had truly neglected you sexually, Colby had figured out that much. The way you looked as if you were in a state of bliss just from his fingers alone made him wonder how you’d react when he fucked you senseless. 
You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, the pleasure almost overwhelming. Colby’s fingers were fast and ruthless. He never seemed to tire, your legs beginning to shake as he added in a third finger. “It’s okay, look at me,” Colby told you, slowing down his pace. You looked up at him in the mirror, his ocean eyes absorbing every little detail about your facial expression. He was slowly curling his fingers inside of you, your walls clenching around him. “Does it hurt? We can stop-” Colby began, concern dashing across his face. His fingers had come to an abrupt halt, no longer hitting your g spot but instead staying still.
Your plea cut him off, your desperation to cum overshadowing any ounce of dignity.
“Please don’t stop, please, feels so fucking good,” You whined, pushing your hips against his hand. You weren’t used to begging, never having to ask for anything to be done for you. But fuck, you loved begging him like this. Colby smirked at your reaction, his fingers curling inside of your dripping cunt. His other hand flew to your hair, yanking it towards him.
You arched your back as he held onto your hair, pain shooting down your scalp and spine as he continued to abuse your g spot with his fingers. “You look so filthy like this. You’re such a dirty slut for me,” Colby muttered into your ear, his name leaving your lips like a mantra. You gripped onto the sink for support, babbling incoherent curses.
“What are you? Say it or i’ll stop,” Colby threatened, watching your expression in the mirror. You were determined to listen, what little consciousness you had telling you to focus on yourself in the mirror.
“I’m a dirty slut,” You moaned pathetically, the knot in your stomach forming as you spewed the humiliating words.
Colby smirked, sensing your walls clenching around him. You were practically begging for his cock.
He yanked your hair again, causing you to whimper.
“Whose dirty slut are you?” Colby countered, relishing in seeing you humiliate yourself.
“I’m your dirty slut, i’m gonna cum, please-” You babbled, unsure what you were even begging for.
Colby held you steady as you came, an unfamiliar euphoria blinding your senses. You gripped onto the counter so hard your knuckles were turning white, your thighs trembling as your juices coated Colby’s fingers. He admired them in front of you, releasing your hair and sucking them clean.
“You taste so sweet, next time i’ll have you cum on my face,” Colby purred. You chuckled as he turned you around, his lips meeting yours. His kisses were rougher than your husband’s, his lips never able to fully keep up with your desperate ones. Colby liked it rough and he knew without a shadow of doubt, you did too.
You could taste mint and the faintest taste of your juices on his tongue as he pressed you against the bathroom sink. Colby pulled away briefly, his eyes meeting yours.
“You want this cock baby?”
“Yeah-”
Knock knock knock.
You nearly jumped out of your skin, clinging onto Colby as the bathroom door shook.
“This is a public bathroom! Get a room!”
You were stunned and silent, afraid the intruder would knew who you were once you left. Colby was quick on his feet, wiping away your ruined makeup and helping you pull your panties up. You were far from presentable, your hair messy, lips puffy, and cunt drenching your panties. Colby pulled your dress down, leaning close to your ear.
“When I unlock the door, leave, i’ll make sure the guy out there never saw you,” Colby whispered. The intruder continued pounding on the bathroom door, causing Colby to sigh. He redressed himself, running his fingers through his ruffled brunette hair.
“Hotel six on main street, meet me there Friday at seven. I’ll be in room 717,” Colby said, heading over towards the door. You nodded as confidently as you could, exiting the bathroom and brushing past the stranger. You could feel curious eyes burning holes into your back, guilt flooding you as you walked down the hallway.
Your mind swirled with thoughts as you called your personal driver to pick you up, exiting the bar as quickly as you could as to not be affiliated with Colby. As you stood outside and lit a cigarette all you could think was one thing: You needed to be at hotel six on Friday, no matter what.
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charmerchannie · 2 months
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Tuesday: Christopher
Head is spinnin' masterlist
Bang Chan/Christopher x reader
Warnings: public naughtiness, fingering. This is not bang chan, this is Christopher
Intro: you often help the students at your art school by modeling for their projects. But your services aren't free. You always get something in return.
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Christopher was a graduate student. He was a TA for one of your art history classes last year. You didn’t sleep with him at the time—you have some principles—but the two of you eye fucked each other all semester long. You hooked up a few times in the spring when he wasn’t in charge of your grades anymore, and twice over the summer, too. You aren't surprised to find him in the library on a Tuesday night. Well, it would be more accurate to say he finds you. He came looking for a book for his thesis when he saw you typing away on your laptop. There were rarely people in this section of the stacks because there weren’t many art majors who spent a whole lot of time in the library, and it was a pretty remote corner. Christopher continues on his way to find his book after he sees you, but he circles back around after, like it’s a coincidence.
“Hey, Y/n,” you hear muffled over the sound of the instrumental music coming from your ear buds. He’s standing in front of you, across the table, and your eyes follow all the way up from his broad hips over his toned chest (evident even through his shirt) up to his handsome face. You pull one earbud out.
“Oh, hey, Chris,” you smile.
"Did that kid Seungmin get in touch with you?" he asks, standing with the book he picked up in one hand and his other hand in his pocket.
"Yeah," you say with a laugh.
He catches the look in your eye when you think about Seungmin on your couch. "Oh, no, you didn't ruin him did you?" he asks, his head turning to the side.
"No! I didn't. We just...made out a little bit," you admit.
"Y/n!" he says loudly in mock indignation.
"Shh! Christopher!” you hiss, wanting him to not yell your name in the library. “It was just a little bit." You blush.
"You're such a whore for artists." He shakes his head at you.
“Oh, please. Centuries of male artists having their way with as many women as they wanted, but I’m not allowed to love men. To admire and appreciate their bodies?” you scoff, but your indignant expression evaporates as you give his own body a flirtatious once over.
He chuckles and rolls his eyes. "Whatever. You mind if I sit?"
"Sure,” you shrug.
There’s plenty of room at this table for both of you, but you’re surprised when, of the three empty chairs, he chooses to sit in the one to your left. You slide some of your stuff over a few inches to give him some space. He settles and opens his book like he’s going to read it, but he has no such intention. He pretends for long enough for you to go back to writing your paper. It takes you a minute to get your train of thought back and refocus on impressionism, but you get there.
After you’ve written a couple of sentences, you feel Christopher’s warm hand on your thigh just above your knee. You look down at it, his broad hand sitting in stark contrast to the thin black leggings you’re wearing under a red cotton dress. You’re not quite sure what you should do. Christopher likes to play. It’s like that game you used to play in high school where someone would put their hand on your thigh and slowly inched upward to test you until you said it was too much. That’s exactly what Christopher is doing now. He wants to see if you’ll tell him to stop and when. You should definitely tell him to stop, but you don’t want to. You want to see just how far he’ll take it. Is he bluffing? Would he really try to touch you in the library? Will you let him?
He hasn’t moved his hand yet, not up, down, or away. It’s just sitting there, and after looking at his thick fingers for a second, you look back up at your computer screen without looking in his direction, playing along with his little sexual game of chicken. You hear him huff a laugh through the smile that must be plastered across his face, and now you’re pretending to read, too. He slides his hand a couple of inches up your leg, and your eyes involuntarily flick downward before coming up again without acknowledging him in any other way, but you know he’s looking at your face. Since he hasn’t been able to get to you yet, he continues his journey toward the top of your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress up. He’s moving very slowly and gives your flesh a squeeze when he reaches your thickest part. His strong fingers knead into you, causing your heat to clench around nothing.
You clear your throat and look at him finally. “Can I help you?” you snark.
“I’m just wondering if I can help you,” he responds.
“How would you help me?” You’re dying to know.
“Well, you said you and Seungmin only made out last night. Knowing you, I’d guess that got you all high and tense. I bet you could use a little release.” His eyes have grown dark, and his fingers have slipped from your inner thigh to your core, giving you just enough pressure to let you know he’s there.
“What makes you think I can’t take care of myself?” you smirk.
He shrugs. “I was just checking,” he says, pulling his hand away.
You grab his wrist and look him in the eyes. “Don’t start something you aren’t going to finish, Bang.”
His eyebrow twitches as his smile grows. He leans closer to you and returns his hand to cup your mound. “Get back to work,” Christopher says, jerking his chin toward your laptop. You twist your face up in a smile as you turn your face forward again, returning your hands to a typing position. He places his fingers flat over your covered opening, having to make some space for his hand between your closed thighs. You hear him gasp quietly when he bends his middle finger to graze your slit. “You aren’t wearing underwear, are you?” he asks in a quiet, sultry voice.
You giggle. “Nope.” You desperately need to do laundry, but you’ve been too lazy and not had the time.
“You slut,” he teases.
You turn to him seriously. “Don’t call me a slut.”
“Oh, honey. I love it,” he assures you, but you’re not kidding. You can’t stand that word. You stare him down. “Fine, got it. You are a very naughty girl, though. Coming to the library with no panties,” he tisks. “It’s like you wanted me to touch you.”
You turn back to your screen, as if you’re no longer interested in the firm strokes he’s giving you, but you’re not telling him to stop, and you both know you don’t want him to. He can feel your heat and as he works over you, he can feel your slick leaking out to wet your crotch.
“Oh, honey. I am going to ruin these leggings,” Chris mutters. You say nothing as he rubs circles around your most sensitive part. You’d been doing a pretty good job acting unbothered up until that point, swallowing down your moans, but now your hips jump in your seat. He feels the pulse of your clenching and drives his fingers down again, pushing your leggings into your folds as he goes. He’s enjoying the way you’re drenching your pants for him, and he pushes harder, pressing into your yearning entrance. Your mouth falls open. Your tongue sneaks out to wet your lips. Your leggings are old, getting threadbare, and Christopher has just discovered the beginning of a hole in your crotch. He can feel your juice on his fingertips, and he stops his movement for a moment before he digs his finger into the small hole, widening it.
“Oh my god,” he breaths, and you’re both a little lost in the headiness of this sudden turn. Christopher’s finger is against your swollen flesh, and all you can think of is having more. He seems to be thinking the same thing as he scoots his chair an inch or two closer to you. He pushes his finger deeper inside the hole, feeling your folds now. He dips his finger into your essence and sighs. Christopher remembers loving the taste of you, and he’s wishing you weren’t in the library anymore. He’s considering throwing you on the table in front of him and making a meal of you.
“I’ll buy you new leggings,” he says just before he tears the hole wider, making your mouth drop open. He probes his finger inside of you but can’t get very far with the angle you're sitting at. Without a word, you slump in your chair a little, push your hips forward, and spread your knees apart so he can squeeze his finger inside of you, both of you sighing. “Fuck. Have I ever told you how much I like your pussy?” he breathes in your ear, causing you to throw your head back. He has actually, every time you two are together like this, but you’re not tired of hearing it. “So fucking tight and wet,” he moans softly as he pushes another finger inside of you all the way up to your sweet spot and dragging the pads of his fingers back down against your gummy wall. There are no words in your head to respond. You’re trying so hard not to make any sound at all as you grip your chair. He pulls his fingers back out to rub firm circles over your clit.
“Fuck, Christopher,” you hiss, surprised how fast you’re rocketing toward your peak.
“You’re loving this aren’t you?” he chuckles softly, as if he’s not. “You love me getting you off in the library, you dirty girl,” he breathes.
You bite your lips between your teeth trying desperately to hold in your cries of pleasure as the tension builds in your stomach. You hear the ding of the elevator behind you and freeze, but he doesn’t stop.
Christopher’s lips are against your ear. “You better come before they do,” he commands while he moves his fingers harder and faster against you. You hear footsteps coming in your direction and close your eyes tight.
“Fuck,” you gasp when you hit your climax, fingers gripping the edge of the table for dear life.
Normally, Christopher would tease you through your shudders, driving you crazy, but he doesn’t wait to withdraw his fingers. You fall forward, burying your head in your arms on the table while he licks you off his fingers. He wipes his saliva on your leggings with a grin, and you can only laugh because he already promised to replace them. The person who got off the elevator walks by you none the wiser.
“Oh my god,” you sigh happily, leaning back in your chair. You wipe the back of your hand across your forehead for the thin layer of sweat.
Christopher laughs, too. “Can I drive you home?” he offers.
“Can you? You’d better. I’m not walking across campus to my apartment with my leggings ripped open,” you tell him quietly.
He shrugs. “The breeze might be refreshing.” You both laugh again. You gather your things and wait impatiently, squeezing your legs together, while he checks out his book at the circulation desk. Your dress is definitely covering you, but you still feel exposed.
He walks you out to his car and opens the door for you, which would seem gentlemanly if you didn’t know that it was because the automatic locks on his old beat up car don’t work, and if he hadn’t just fingered you in public.
“Your place or mine?” he asks as he starts the car.
You scoff. “Oh, so you think you should get off now, too?” you say in a tone that makes it clear he won’t.
“Can’t blame me for trying,” he laughs. He navigates easily to your apartment from memory. “Well, that was fun,” he says as he parks in front of your building.
“Yeah, let’s do it again sometime,” you grin and wink, knowing you will. You open the door and step out, holding down the back of your dress with your hand. “Oh, and don’t forget you owe me leggings!” you turn back to say before closing the door on his laughter.
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Main Masterlist
Taglist: @rylea08
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rinbowaman · 6 months
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after seeing sunghoon at the parade today… I WANNA HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS OF PRINCE SUNGHOON
😏
you really want to know?
very well then, I will give you my thoughts on prince Sunghoon taking you in a private date at the ice skating rink. Enjoy.
MDNI 18+ content below the line.
When I see this…
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The prince is taking you on a date at the ice skating resort. He promised to show you his moves, he’s even booked the entire rink privately, just for the occasion.
He helped fit your feet in the correct skates, and holds both your hands as he’s teaching you to glide on the ice. His leather gloves tighten around his fingers as he interlocks them with yours. “Here…” he takes off his blue cashmere coat and sets it on the barrier, “you lead and I’ll be right behind you so you won’t fall.”
you’re slowly getting the hang of it, or at least it was easier to skate with the Prince holding your waist, standing so close as the denim rubs against the wool midi-skirt you have on. “Please don’t let me fall.”
“I won’t ever let you fall.”
“are you sure?”
“do I have to prove it?”
“That might help.” You were just teasing, when suddenly the Prince steers you by the hold on your waist and gently runs you into the barrier. Your hip bones softly make contact as you lean forward from the abrupt halt, bent slightly over the edge. “What are you doing—“
your voice cuts out when you turned your face and witness him pinching the tip of his gloves with his teeth. His canines are sharp and pointed, very much like a vampire, which added to his mysterious appeal as he pulls off the leather glove from his strong hand. Reaching down, he hooks onto your panties and shift them over to the side, while his other hand plays with the lace rimmed, thigh high stockings. “Babe! Wait—what?!”
“don’t worry, I’m not going to let you fall…”
he was quick and smooth with his movements that you didn’t even realize he had released his beastly length from his denim attire. It wasn’t until you felt him beginning to feed it inside you. “Ugh!” You whimpered helplessly as he kept your hips plastered against the barrier, gently pushing your upper back to lean you more forward. Your hands reach up and slam against the edge lining of the barrier as you felt him slowly entering. His shaft was cold, it was almost freezing but instantly started to warm up as he nestled inside your walls. “Yes baby…just like that…warm me up.”
his hands reach up and pulls the buttons of your blouse apart, feeding under your bralette as he cups your breasts. Again, his skin was cold, but the warmth of your mounds melted them until they welded onto your skin. The man is so skilled, even with skates on, he was able to stabilize himself on the ice. The momentum of his thrusts made you slip, only for him to pull you up by the hips as he thrusted simultaneously. He goes harder, faster, and deeper, to the point that each time you started to slip again, he’d pull you right back up. you wished that he would just let you fall, instead, he would re-stabilize your body over the flat edge of the barrier as he thrusted up, and inside you. Your knees and thighs practically gave out, your body was trembling, the sensation was unbelievably good and you finally started to beg. “Please! Let me go….just let me fall! I can’t…I can’t take it anymore! Ugh!”
“no baby, I’m never going to let you fall.” He grits his canines against his bottom lip as he continues to thrust, nibbling on your ear and coating your neck with his tongue. His momentum becomes more intense and you find yourself bouncing forward from receiving his pleasurable impact. “Ugh! Please! Oh my God please! Just let me fall! Please let me fall…I’m…I’m going to cum!”
breathing heavily as his voice comes out hoarse and deep, he reaches around and lifts your chin, peering his own face from the side. His tongue travels across your face and meets with your lips. “Cum baby…I’m still never gonna let you fall.”
he keeps thrusting in to you, speed tapping that soft spot, making you gush each and every single time. “Ugh!!!” You scream as you feel the knot in your gut release, spilling all over his cock as you feel the intense warmth of his seed decorating your inner walls. He keeps you bent over, letting you catch your breath.
Finally, when you recover from the intensity of your orgasm, you feel him pull you backwards, all by his hold on your waist. He was still inside you, keeping your body plastered against his chest as he skated you a few laps, forcing you to keep his cock warm. Bear hugging you, he continues to skate while his member twitched and throbs inside you, re-hardens, and pulsates. “Please! I’m so sensitive! Please take it out!”
he smiles as he tenderly kisses your cheek, knowing damn well that you were feeling too good, by the overflow of the warm juices seeping out from your opening, making his cock so slippery as he squelches it in and out of you. “Gotta keep a hold on you, ice skating can be a dangerous thing, besides…” Leaning his face in, he whispers into your ear. “Didnt I say I was going to prove to you…that I’d never let you fall?”
you’re not sure how many laps he took you on, and you’re not even sure how many times he made you cum, all you knew was by the end of the date, the Prince had given you so many of his snowflakes, to the point where you may not even be so sure if your birth control could withstand his royal bloodline from developing inside your tummy. After all, he was a prince, and prince’s are good at producing heirs.
Perm Taglist:
@enheene , aiden2001 , heeseung-min , lathan1510 , rayofsunshineeee , @hoyeonheeseung , @rayofsunshineeee , @yohanabanana , @sunoosrightbuttcheek , @jaeneohee , @icydawon , @silcry , @iamliacamila , @nikstrange , @enheene ; @nuriicata , @en-happiness
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mountttmase · 10 months
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You Know I’ll Always Be Here
Note - just a cute little fic cause I love my man 🥺 nothing United related just in case you need a break but thank you to the anon who requested it. I really hope you like it and I’d love some feedback 🩷
Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader
Word count - 2.4K
Warnings - fluff
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Your heart sunk as the final whistle blew, England had lost and were not advancing to the finals. This was supposed to be their year and now it was all over.
Your eyes were trained on Mason as he made his way around the pitch to hug everyone, putting a a brave face and making sure the rest of his team were okay before he fell to his knees, chest against the grass and he buried his head in his arms.
Your heart broke for him, having never seen him look so defeated before. Usually he was good at keeping his emotions in check until the pair of you were alone but he obviously couldn’t do it today and all you wanted to was run to him and comfort the boy you loved in anyway you could.
Mason also says felt like he’d never done enough after games like today, but right now you didn’t think he could of given anymore. After a goal and an assist in extra time it still wasn’t enough to send the three lions through and everything he’d worked for was now in tattered pieces around him.
‘Y/n, you coming?’ Lauren asked holding her hand out to you and you took it quickly, following behind her and baby Jude down the stairs towards the pitch.
‘Wait, where are we going?’ You asked as you followed her down to the sidelines but you could see what was happening before she spoke, watching the as the players family members filtered onto the pitch to pull their loved ones into a comforting embrace to try and soothe their pain.
Your eyes caught Debbie’s as you made it to the bottom of the stairs and you made your way over to her and Tony, pulling them both into a hug and you could sense their disappointment from their faces. Normally you would sit with them but Lauren had asked if you could sit with her today to help look after baby Jude and you couldn’t pass up the opportunity of spending time with your favourite little boy.
‘Shall we go over then?’ You asked them both and you felt Tony place his hand on your shoulder whilst giving you a knowing look.
‘You go, love. I don’t think he’ll want to be crowded and he probably just wants you right now. We can speak to him after’ he reassured you as Debbie squeezed your hand.
‘Give him a kiss from us’ she laughed and you gave them both a quick hug, thanking them for trusting you with their little boy’s happiness like they seemed to be doing. You knew it must of been hard for them but they also knew what was best for their son and what he probably wanted right now, your heart hammering at the thought of being Masons trusted person.
‘Are you sure?’ You breathed but they reassured you it was fine, and you trusted that they knew what Mason needed more than he did so with one last hug you made your way back to Lauren so you could find your boys together.
Just as you’d predicted, Mason and Dec were close to each other. Dec patting Mason on the back as he lay on the floor still and your heart broke as you saw him still down and so defeated. Sure games hadn’t gone his way in the past and you’d comforted him when he was upset but this seemed different and you had to pull yourself together before making your way over to be whatever he needed.
‘I’ll go get Dec’ you told Lauren, making your way over to the pair of them and Decs head shot up as he felt your presence. You could tell he was sad as he stood up, having known him for a while you could read him like a book just like Mason as they shared so many of the same mannerisms and you pulled him into a quick hug as you patted him on the back.
‘I’m so sorry, Dec. You played really well’ you told him and he looked down at you with an appreciative smile, eyes a little glossy and he finally started to let his walls down.
‘Thanks, y/n’ he laughed, ruffling your hair slightly before nodding over to your crestfallen boyfriend. ‘I’ve tried talking to him but he’s not moving’
‘It’s fine, I’ll sort him out. Thanks for looking out for him Dec’ you smiled as you looked down it him, Lauren coming over to join the pair of you as he wrapped his arm around her a stroked Jude’s head softly.
‘Come on Dec, your parents are waiting’ she told him softly and after a final group hug, you looked down to Mason who was still in the same place. You had no idea what to do, his head still buried in his arms as he laid completely still but the uneven rise and fall of his chest made your heart hurt even more than it was as you figured he must be crying a little bit. In the end you could only come to one conclusion and got down on the floor next to him, laying so your head was near his so you could eventually talk to him and run your fingers through his hair. It didn’t take long for him to peak up at you and your heart broke at the sight of his red glassy eyes.
‘What are you doing?’ He asked and you sent him a small smile to let him know everything was okay.
‘I could ask you the same thing, Mase’
‘You’re gonna get wet’ he told you, moving his arm slightly so he could see you better and your heart thudded as you took him in. The bridge of his nose was red from running about and he looked absolutely shattered. All you wanted was to bundle him up and protect him but it was a bit difficult right now. But the sadness radiating from him hit you like a train and you were ready to be whatever he needed.
‘It’s okay, I don’t mind’ you smiled, hoping to let him know everything was okay and you watched as he let down what little walls he had left up. His bottom lip wobbling ever so slightly as the first few tears escaped his eyes but he made no attempts to wipe them.
‘I don’t think I can get up’ he croaked and you felt sick at how upset he was. You knew if this game came to a loss then it would hurt but you could of never of prepared yourself for this.
‘It’s fine. You don’t have to, I can wait with you’ you told him softly, scratching over his head in the way you knew he loved and he shut his eyes as his whole body relaxed at your touch.
‘I really thought we could do it’ you heard him say softly as his eyes landed on yours. ‘I really thought this was our year’
‘I know, baby. You did so well and I know you don’t wanna hear it but I really am so proud of you’
‘I know’ he sighed, offering you a gentle smile and your whole chest warmed at the sight of him perking up a bit because of you. ‘Thank you, love’
‘Anytime. You know I’ll always be here’ you told him as he shut his eyes so he could focus on the feeling of your fingers. You were both quiet for a little while, Mason focusing on the feel of you fingers in his hair whilst the noise of everything around you died down.
‘Are there’s still lots of people about?’ He asked suddenly and you had a quick look up to see the place emptying out.
‘Most of the crowd has gone’ you told him, ‘just a few of your team are hanging about and some of the press. Don’t rush yourself though. We can go in when you’re ready, yeah?’
‘I love you’ he whispered, shuffling closer to you so he could kiss you gently. His hand coming around your waist so he could squeeze it as you cupped his jaw, running your thumb over his cheek gently. ‘Thank you for not telling me off and laying here with me’
‘Why would I tell you off’ you laughed before he kissed you once again.
‘Cause I’m acting like a big baby’
‘No you’re not. You’re upset Mase, and if this is how you wanna cope with it then I’ll always be by your side. Whether that be standing, sitting or laying down on wet grass. I’m here for you’
‘I love you so much’ he laughed kissing you again gently as he pulled you even further to him.
‘I love you too’ you smiled and you watched him take a big breath before shuffling back.
‘I’m ready to get up now I think’
‘Yeah? You sure?’
‘I’m sure’ he smiled, and you untangled yourself from each other before he helped you up, kissing your cheek just before you kissed his temple. ‘You always kiss me there’ he laughed as he linked your fingers together, walking the width of the pitch and over to the sidelines.
‘I know’ you laughed ‘you have a little mole there and it’s my favourite so I like to kiss it’ you told him, a slight embarrassed tone to your voice as you felt your face heat up at the confession. You’d never mentioned it before but you thought you give him a little something to smile about and by the look on his face it was definitely working.
‘Oh yeah? Do you know I have a favourite one of yours?’ He asked and you shook your head as you peered up at him. ‘Well I do. It’s on your upper left thigh, like just under your bum’ he laughed as you pushed your shoulder into him out of embarrassment.
‘Why?’ You laughed, hiding your face as he brought his arm around your shoulder.
‘Cause only I can see it’ he whispered into you ear ‘maybe later I can kiss it for you, yeah?’ He laughed and you rolled you eyes at him just before you reached his parents who pulled the pair of you into a hug.
Mason was quiet for the rest of the evening until you got home and he kept his promise of kissing his favourite mole of yours amongst other things. You thought he might not of been in the mood for anything once you got back but it seemed as if he just wanted it be in the comfort of your arms and after weeks apart he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of you. You didn’t mind and were willing to do just about anything to take his mind off of everything that happened and make him feel better.
The next morning you woke up with your head in Masons lap, his fingers raking over your scalp as he sat up against the headboard. You hummed at the feeling as you nestled down further into his thighs and you felt him shake as he laughed.
‘Hey’ you yawned, rolling onto your back so you could could look at him. His hand now holding you at your jaw as he stroked your cheek, a loving smile dressed his face as he peered down at you. ‘What you looking at’ you asked him quietly, noticing how his eyes kept looking over to his phone in his free hand, a warm smile taking over his face as he looked down at you.
‘There’s quite a few articles about me this morning, I’m just having a read’ he told you and you sighed in disappointment at him.
‘Oh Mase, I told you not to look at any of that stuff’ you scolded him, sitting up next to him so you could steal his phone from him but he didn’t let you.
‘Well why don’t you take a look before you start having a go at me’ he smiled, shoving the phone in your face so you could see what he had and you felt your face burn at the sight of the headlines you were faced with.
Back of the net: Mount scoring on and off the pitch
Princess of the pitch: Mounts girl steals everyone’s hearts as she comforts the distraught midfielder.
Sometimes even love lies down: Even mount couldn’t hide his emotions today after a cracking performance.
‘What’s all this’ you laughed, clicking on one so you could skim read it.
‘Well I think the media have fallen in love with you a little bit. They’re all saying how much of a lucky boy I am to have you. Not that I needed to be told, I already knew that’
‘There’s so many’ you laughed, reading down the list and looking at pictures of the pair of you face down on the pitch as you comforted him.
‘I love you’ you felt him whisper into your hair and you turned to face him with a shy smile. ‘I really do. I felt like shit when that whistle went yesterday and no matter who came over to me I just didn’t want anything to do with it until you were there. I’d probably still be laying there if it wasn’t for you’ he laughed before kissing your nose softly.
‘And I’d be laying right next to you’ you laughed before pulling him in for a proper kiss. ‘I’d do anything for you’
‘Me too’ he smiled, grabbing your thigh and pulling you onto his lap so you were straddling him. ‘Tell me what you want right now’ he spoke, lips trailing your jaw as his hands roamed over your bum. You clearly knew what he wanted but you loved to tease him in moments like this so set out to make him suffer.
‘Avocado toast’ you whispered and you felt him laugh as he pulled you closer to hug him.
‘Fine, I’ll go make you toast. But I’m having what I want to eat after’ he told you in a low voice, nipping your neck as you rocked your hips over him once. ‘You coming with?’ He asked before standing the pair of you up.
‘Looks like I don’t have a choice’ you laughed, following along as he pulled you with him out of the room.
Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you thought as it really helps motivate me to want to write more 🩷
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misstycloud · 3 months
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How to stop your husband from being weird: situation one- digging in the middle of the night.
One of the things that I have noticed about my dear husband, Arlo (bless his soul), is the constant digging in our backyard; he leaves in the middle of the night and when I dare glance out the window, I see him. His back is always facing towards me, so I can’t get a good look at his face. He is a very expressive person and I can tell what he thinks from simply looking at his face, hence why this is somewhat concerning.
Had I known that my dearest would wake up during ungodly hours of the night, get dressed, fetch the garden tools from the shed, and then proceed to dig a massive hole, then maybe I would have hesitated to say ‘yes’. (Do not be worried, I love my husband deeply and this was just a little joke.)
Joke aside, it is still very annoying. Does he not know this will keep me awake too? I have work to do and I can’t keep on going if my sleep is this disturbed. I would have to be some sort of abomination- a vampire perhaps?
That is not all; I find dirt particles inside our house; I clean for nothing apparently.
I have tried bringing this up(somewhat hard to ask your spouse why they are leaving you all cold and lonely in the middle of the night) with Arlo, but every time he changed the subject. The audacity! He even asks me if I’m ill and is in need of a doctor. I tell him ‘I am quite fine thank you very much!’ and remind him my eyesight is good, I’m not imagining things and I know he’s been up to something in the yard. I also know he’s not preparing to pot new plants for summer so he better not try that with me.
Last time I tried prying the answer out of him, he finally relented and gave me what I wanted.
His explanation: I have been finding a lot of roadkill and other deceased animals lately. I didn’t want you to have to see it. You know I work so many hours, I don’t have time during the day, that’s why I bury them at night. It’s horrible, but understandable since they’re rebuilding the library and trucks loaded with materials drive by often.
Whether I believe this explanation or not doesn’t matter. There is factor agreeing with his explanation and there are ones that goes agaisnt it.
Those vouching for him: it is true that trucks drive by often these days since the library really did catch on fire recently. It was an unfortunate accident casued(according to the police) by some teenagers. They played around with a lighter and things escalated beyond their control. The saddest part is that I can’t go to the library anymore, I suppose I’ll have to find new hobbies to entertain myself until the library is rebuilt and restocked with books. Another thing is that I do like animals and it definitively wouldn’t be fun to see a run-over one in real life. My husband is very caring and wouldn’t expose me to something he knows I hate, therefore it makes sense for him to bury them in secret. Besides, his job is demanding and he actually wouldn’t be able to do so in the day.
All of this form one solution that is: burying the dead animals in secret from his wife(me) during nighttime as to not disturb me or his work hours. (If we look away from the fact I wake when he does)
Factors indicating he’s lying: how come I have never found a roadkill if they are so common nowadays? It’s unusual for him to come home before me, and if he’s that busy with work, it wouldn’t make sense for him to find all of them before I’ve even caught a whiff of something foul nearby. You see what I mean? Secondly, there is not reason why he should be the one doing all this work. Surely there are professionals dealing with here things? In that case then he should call them instead and tell those truck-drivers to be more careful.
Ultimately this is very suspicious, but what else can I do? Statistically, there is a high chance(I believe?) that your husband will have at least one weird hobby. I will have to live with that and I have said to him ‘I love you more than anything and if this is something you wish to do then o won’t question you.’
He was almost in tears, it was adorable. He said, ‘Yes, my love, thank you. I also love you more than anything in this world and I would be damned if something came between us.’
Afterwards I lectured him on not bringing in dirt in the house again, though. This was his answer: of course not, my darling!
To summarise this incident: my husband still visits the outdoors at night, however not as often as before. I warned him, too, of being careful because a bunch of men have been going missing lately and I’d be devastated if his name came up on of of those reports. I shouldn’t say this- but I will- I’m kind of happy those men are gone. I recognised their names and/or faces from the papers, you see. It turns out that all of them were ones I’d met previously. I won’t bore you with the details, but they weren’t pleasant encounters.
Everyday I have checked the floor for dirt and have found none. This is very good news for my ‘cleaning-spirit’. Whenever I feel Arlo leaving the bed I have decided to relax my mind and go back to sleep again. Then, if I’m still half-awake, I will feel him laying down beside me once more and together we drift off to dreamland.
The lesson I learned from this is that you don’t have to ‘fix’ everything about your partner, and they are allowed to have their special hobbies. There is a difference if you’re being harmed in the process, though. If that’s the case then you should immediately speak up about it and you compromise. Remember, communication is key!
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Written by: (Y/n) (L/n)
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