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roosterforme · 21 days

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him.

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it.

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

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

You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing.

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject.

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!"

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back.

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment.

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it.

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you.

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

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It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her.

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it.

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt.

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email.

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

You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind.

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him.

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions.

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight.

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now.

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now.

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

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This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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harryspet · 5 months

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bambi eyes (3) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 3.4k

In which you do your best to deal with your Daddy's mood swings.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

You felt like you were seeing Rafe less and less as the next two weeks went on. He was stressed about what was going on with work. He often paced back and forth in front of you, ranting, although he was never specific about the details of what was going on.

You noticed that he grabbed you tighter, pushed you harder into the mattress, and talked less during sex whenever something outside was affecting him. You were starting to accept it; it never hurt too much, and you’d be more scared if he weren’t interested in you in that way. If he didn’t want to be intimate with you, then there was a chance he wouldn’t want you anymore.

As much as Rafe promised you this was permanent, you couldn’t fully believe him. He had done all of this just for you, so you had to be able to offer him something special in return.

Like Rafe wanted, you established a routine. Every morning the birds would wake you up exactly at eight, and you’d make your bed which kept you from napping all day. Staying in your room was causing your imagination to stretch. You found new ways to entertain yourself, including trying on all the clothes in your wardrobe and throwing elaborate tea parties with all your stuffed animals and dolls.

One night that you thought would be like the last twelve nights, Rafe came to you after Lana had already brought you dinner. He wasn’t dressed in his usual khakis and dress shirt but in sweatpants and a pullover. You were curled up on the window seat, drawing flowers in a notebook, when Rafe came over to join you.

“Hi,” You spoke softly. He placed a warm hand on your knee, and you slowly closed your notebook.

“Hi, baby,” There was an ease and calmness to his voice that made you believe he’d actually had a good day, “What are you working on? Show me.”

You sat up, leaning closer, as you handed him the notebook. You hid slightly behind your knees as Rafe began to flip through the pages. At this point, you’d covered half of the pages in your doodles, “Oh wow, these are really pretty, Bambi,” He smiled with his entire face, including his bright eyes, “We should hang some of these on the fridge.”

You felt a bit of relief, hearing that he liked him, “I have more. Way more. I’ve colored a lot of the coloring books.”

“Go get them, I’ll pick my favorites,” Excitedly, you got up from the window seat. When you set several full coloring books in his lap, Rafe’s lips parted in shock, “Okay, wow, I don’t think I realized how much coloring you’d been doing.”

“I think it’s fun,” You said.

“Good, I want you to have fun,” Rafe nodded, “But have you worn down all your color pencils? How come you haven’t asked for more?”

You shrugged when Rafe gave you an inquisitive look, “I try to take care of the ones I have.”

“Would you even ask Daddy for more coloring books if you ran out of pages to color?”

“Maybe,” You spoke honestly.

The idea of asking for more than what Rafe had already given you did make your heart race. Rafe shook his head at something, “Daddy will get you lots more art supplies. Maybe you could try painting?”

“We could paint together?” You perked up.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rafe assured you, “I’m really, really sorry I haven’t been here as much as I’ve wanted to. Needed to, really. It’s just … I’m working on a lot of things right now, you know?”

“I’ve been okay,” You said, “Lana has been kind to me.”

“Good, good, I want you to be happy here, you know? That’s why I want you comfortable asking for things,” You watched Rafe’s eyes wander towards the bookshelf, “Like your books. I never see you reading them. Do you not like them?”

“I do,” You said quickly.

Rafe started to stare deeply at you, “What-what is it?”

“I . . . “

“I can pick some different ones for you? What do you like?”

“I like it when you read to me, Daddy,” Rafe tilted his head and the mentioning of his nickname didn’t light up his features like usual, “It’s hard for me. I never needed to … do that.”

He paused, which made you think you’d done something wrong, “You’ve never needed to read?”

“I can do it,” You said, “It’s hard when they’re all together, and there’s so many… the words. I’m sorry you think I don’t like the books you picked. I really do. I will try harder–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe rushed to put the coloring books aside and grab ahold of your face, “I just didn’t know, that’s it. You didn’t do anything wrong. At all.”

It wasn’t something you’d ever felt embarrassed about, but now you couldn’t help but feel stupid. Deep down, you felt a guy like Rafe deserved someone better. He deserved someone smarter than you.

You closed your eyes, wanting to hang your head, but Rafe said, “Look at me, hey,” Weakly, you did, “I’ve been thinking that you should spend more time with Lana instead of being cooped up in here. At least until I can take care of this … one problem I have. She’d be happy to have some company. And, if you want to learn, she could help you with your reading.”

“You don’t care?”

“Not at all, look, don’t worry. I’ve got you, sweet girl,” He said. Rafe leaned in to peck your nose before he brought your lips together. You melted into him, realizing then how much you missed him when he was gone, “You know what I was thinking?”

You stared back at Rafe, who had a mischievous look in his eye.

“We should take the boat out.”

“Now? Where?”

“Just on a short ride to get you some fresh air. It’ll be cold, so let’s find you some warmer clothes, yeah?”

It was a rhetorical question; Rafe was already making his way over to your wardrobe. You looked down at the small silk pajama set you were wearing. You’d seen all the boats out by the dock but hadn’t imagined that Rafe would take you out on one. “Lift your arms,” You did exactly as he said, pulling a light blue sweatshirt over your head. He also chose long pajama bottoms, helping you get into those, too, “You want to bring one of your stuffies?”

Your excitement mixed with your anxiety as you put on your slippers. It was a hard decision to make about which stuffed animal you wanted to bring, but you settled on Fin, your silvery-blue dolphin, “Excellent choice.”

Rafe grabbed your hand, leading you downstairs, “Do you think we’ll see a real dolphin?”

“Well, they tend to be more active during the day, and it’ll be dark soon … but maybe if you wish really, really hard.”

The air was much cooler outside than you expected, and you certainly didn’t expect it to feel so strange being in the fresh air. You turned in a circle just so you could take in the sky, the trees, the house, and everything around you.

You followed a determined Rafe across the yard and towards the deck. He chose one of the smaller boats, although there was room for at least four more people. You yelped when Rafe grabbed you by your waist suddenly and lifted you inside. Another yelp escaped your lips as the boat rocked under the pressure of your weight, “You’re okay, don’t worry,” He didn’t have to tell you to take a seat or be still; you decided you wouldn’t move at all, “One . . . moment.”

You watched through the corner of your eyes as Rafe untied the roaps keeping the boat tethered to the dock. The boat rocked again as Rafe hopped inside, causing you to grip Fin in one hand and grip the side of the boat in the other.

You sat in the seat right across from Rafe as the boat slowly pulled off towards deeper water. As the boat became more steady, you turned your head and watched Tannyhill get smaller and smaller. The orange and blue sky reflected off the water, creating an insanely beautiful view. You sailed towards the horizon, the son looking half submerged in the water, “How do you feel?” Rafe yelled over the sound of the motor, “Wanna go faster?”

You nodded, a smile growing on your face, “My little daredevil, huh?” You sat up on your knees, wanting to see more. You get a better look at Figure 8, seeing lots of huge houses along the beach, although none of them compare to Tannyhill. Rafe pointed out different landmarks for you, including the country club and a huge lighthouse out in the water. In your eyes, this night made every other night where you worried about your place with Rafe worth it.

“Go ahead, you can give it a taste test,” Lana conceded, allowing you to dip your finger into the chocolate cake batter. A few days after your night out with Rafe, Lana was showing you how to make the perfect chocolate cake. You thought she might be exaggerating about how perfect it was until you were licking your finger. An excited moan left your mouth and you bounced on the balls of your feet, “It’s great, isn’t it? Espresso powder is the key.”

“It really is,” You agreed.

“Now, wash your hands. It’s time to pour our batter.”

The entire day Lana had told you exactly what to do and how to do it. You didn’t mind listening or following her directions as she usually spoke to you warmly. Besides that, you wanted to learn exactly how to take care of things around the house, knowing that Rafe would appreciate your help when Lana couldn’t be here. The two of you cleaned the entire downstairs, did several loads of laundry, washed the windows in the glass patio, and even had time for a reading lesson in the early morning. She informed you that she homeschooled her youngest son and that she would try to teach you in a similar way.

As you washed your hands, you glanced out the side window towards the dock. You could see Rafe far out on the dock, standing with the same business associate who came to the house a few weeks ago. They weren’t alone like you were expecting; someone was on their knees a few feet ahead of them, their head slumped over. You squinted your eyes, trying to see more of them, although Rafe and his business associate shouting at each other blocked your view, “What are they doing out there? Who’s that?” Lana came over to where you were standing, peeking out just like you were.

Whatever business Rafe was involved in, Lana didn’t seem to care for it, “Mr. Cameron and Barry, they’re always at each other’s throats,” She shook her head, “Come, dry your hands. The oven is heated.”

You did as she said, turning your head away. There were going to be several layers to your cake, meaning you had three pans to fill, and after that, you and Lana would make the icing. Just as your mind wandered back to Rafe, you heard him coming through the kitchen door.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pacing for a moment before his dark eyes landed on you, “Bambi, let’s … uhm, go upstairs,” His voice was shaky and deeper than normal, “Come here.”

“We’re-We’re just about to put the cake in the oven. It’s for tonight, and we’re going to make homemade icing too–”

“Now …please,” He said the last word like it was painful, “It’s time for you to go back to your room.”

No, no, no, a voice repeated in your head.

“But Lana was going to teach me how to ice the cake, too and she —”

“Fine,” Rafe snapped, his hand slamming against the counter before he rolled his eyes, “Just stay here.”

As Rafe stomped away, you knew you had something horribly wrong. You’d seen him in a similar mood before but he never directed any of his vitriol towards you before. Whatever had happened on the dock had clearly upset him. You really wanted to finish working with Lana. More than anything, you didn’t want to be locked in your room for another long period of time.

After taking a breath, or attempting to take one, you turned to Lana, “I didn’t mean… I-I should go say sorry.”

“You might want to let him calm down a little bit, sweetheart,” You’d already made up your mind. You reached behind your neck to undo the top of your apron, “Turn around, let me help you. He’s not mad at you.”

“How do you know?”

“I know who he is,” She spoke simply, “Don’t take anything too personally with Mr. Cameron.”

“You can finish without me; I’m sorry, but thank you for today,” You said as you started to walk away. After you saw her nod, a sad smile on her face, you turned away and sped for the stairs.

You approached Rafe’s bedroom moments later, hesitantly turning the knob, “Daddy?” You called, peeking inside. You called him again. He wasn’t in the main room but the shower was running in the bathroom, “Rafe?”

You jumped when he suddenly appeared in the bathroom doorframe, shirtless and his belt undone. This time, you notice his bruised hands and bloody knuckles.

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, Daddy.”

“Get down on your knees,” He stared you down. When you tried to come closer, he said, “No, drop to your knees right there.”

You felt your knees brush against the bedroom rug, “Crawl to me.”

If Rafe wanted you to feel even smaller, then his plan was successful. You did as he said, seeing no other option, and crawled towards him. You watched as he palmed himself over his briefs, and you could already feel him stretching you, pulling your hair, and leaving marks on your bottom. This wouldn’t last, you told yourself; he would be gentle with you another time.

Your sage dress had ridden up your body, exposing your floral patterned white panties.

“You’re gonna suck my cock and swallow all my cum. And then you’re gonna thank Daddy for letting you.”

You’d do exactly as your Daddy wanted, hoping he’d take your sore throat and tears as a sufficient apology.

Once you were soundly asleep in his bed, Rafe slipped out. He had a huge, bloody problem waiting for him in the cabin of his boat. Luckily, JJ Maybank was still the degenerate he used to be, and no one except his Pogue girlfriend would come looking for him anytime, “Son of a bitch isn’t talking,” Barry grunted out, meeting Rafe at the beginning of the dock, “Knocked two of his bottom teeth out and he’s still not motivated.”

Rafe had done everything possible to limit any competition he might face in Kildare. All small-time dealers would be working for someone who worked for Rafe. This was meant to be Rafe’s island yet somehow, Maybank was getting supplies from the mainland and was stealing his customers.

“We could take his girl.”

Rafe contemplated Barry’s question before shaking his head, “If she comes around trying to find him, we might have no choice. I’m sure that will motivate him.”

Rafe could see Barry’s eyes wandering to Kie. Part of him would love to see JJ squirm if they got their hands on her. You were the reason he didn’t think too long about that. Barry, on the other hand, Rafe would let him do whatever he wanted with Kie. In the end, Rafe wanted JJ to talk, to give up his sources, but he’d be just fine killing him.

“I hope,” Barry crossed his arms, “Not exactly looking forward to dealing with the body.”

“We don’t have to deal with that shit anymore; I know who to pay to handle it,” Rafe said, “Speaking of, I think I-uh need some more security here. I want guards all around the perimeter. Because of the amount of merchandise and if we’re going to be taking captives, you know. I want this place to be a fortress.”

“Your merchandise, huh?” Barry flashed Rafe a knowing look, “You got any liquor in that big house?”

Rafe gestured his head toward the house, signaling to Barry to follow behind him.

“If Kie doesn’t come for him and if he still has no information to offer us, we kill him. No more torture, no mess, one gunshot to the temple,” Rafe instructed, his mind racing with what their next moves should be. The more planning beforehand, the better, and the less likely it would come back to them, “That’ll send a message to the rest of the Pogues too. They work for me, or they work for no one.”

“And after you’ve cornered the market?”

“That’s just the start of everything else,” Rafe led Barry through the first floor, towards his office. Ward always used to keep his office stocked with liquor as it came in handy for important meanings. Rafe learned people will often let down their barriers and concede to more under the influence of alcohol. He opened the door for him, allowing him to enter.

“Whoa,” Barry said, walking inside just as Rafe heard a soft gasp from a familiar voice. Eyebrows raised, Rafe entered behind him to find what had shocked him, “Is this the new Mrs. Cameron?”

With wide eyes, Rafe took you in. You were in the same clothes Rafe left you in, one of his white button-ups and your knee-high socks, “What are you doing down here?” You slowly stepped behind Rafe’s desk, and he could tell you were trying to hide yourself.

“I-I couldn’t find you.”

Rafe’s jaw jutted forward, his arms crossed, as he said, “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Your lips parted to say something, but Barry interrupted, “C’mon, man, it’s not even midnight! Introduce me to your girl. We can all have a drink,” He grabbed ahold of Rafe’s shoulder. You would think Barry had one the lottery based on the look in his eyes. By complete accident, Barry had stumbled on Rafe’s biggest treasure, “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“She doesn’t drink.”

Rafe was frustrated, mostly because he should’ve been keeping closer track of you. He’d given you that necklace for a reason. A new idea crossed his mind, one he wasn’t expecting, and some of his anxiety eased. He was far from embarrassed of you, he’d chosen you for a reason, but part of Rafe wanted Barry to envy him at that moment.

Rafe sighed, waving you closer to the two of them, “Bambi, this is Barry. Barry, this is Bambi,” Smoothly, Rafe grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you into him.

“Hi,” You said shyly, “It’s nice to meet you.”

When Barry held his hands out to you, your eyes darted towards Rafe as if to ask permission. Agreement crossed his face, and Rafe watched you shake his hand. Barry was fully taking you in, of course, but Rafe knew a handshake would be the extent of his closeness with you.

“The pleasure is all mine, beautiful.”

“Chill out, dude. Sit down,” Rafe instructed Barry, pulling you along.

Barry made himself comfortable on the leather couch and Rafe motioned you to sit across in one of the leather chairs.

“How you liking Kildare?”

“It’s really nice,” Rafe heard you respond as he poured two glasses of whiskey for him and Barry, “There’s so many big houses, and … it’s just really pretty.”

“You ain’t seen much then, have you?” Rafe handed Barry his glass, flashing a warning with his eyes, “All the girls where you’re from, they as pretty as you?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” You laughed nervously.

Rafe placed a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him, “Why don’t you go get Barry a slice of that chocolate cake you made?”

Rafe assumed it would ease your nervousness if you could share what you made. “Okay, Daddy,” You smiled at both men, and both men watched you closely as you walked out of the room, “I’ll be right back.”

“Pretty and obedient,” Barry whistled, “I need to travel more.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for your support on the first two chapters BUT psa you will not be added to my taglist if you're not reblogging the fic and letting me know your thoughts! It is crazy to me that people will ask me to tag them in the next chapter when they have neither liked nor reblogged the fic. Constructive feedback is more encouraging than just commenting "PART 4" or "tag me in part 4" :)

PART 4

#dark fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction

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mcu-coworkers · 10 months

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Where do broken hearts go?

Miguel O’Hara x reader

Summary: You decide to do Miguel a favor and give him what he wants. or so you thought you did.

Word count:1k+

A/n: I came up with this at 1am:0 pt.2 is in the works

Parts: I^ II III

Ever since the multiverse was disrupted he changed.

Little by little, day by day, you began to see it worsen. You began to see him worsen.

And there was nothing you could do to help him, he made that very clear.

You loved Miguel with every fiber of your being. It was almost embarrassing considering he barely did so much as look your way when he came home.

It wasn't always like this, and those were the moments you clung to when your thoughts were at their darkest.

Before all of this he was happy, we were happy.

The man I loved kissed me almost every second we were together and never went a day without telling me a cheesy punch line to get a laugh out of me.

When he proposed to you it was the happiest day of your life, you thought it could only get better from here.

You were marrying the love of your life. What could go wrong?

You understood him, or at least you tried but it was hard at times when the closest you could get to him lately was standing on the other side of the door to his office where he’d just ignore you some more.

The furthest you got was when you urged him to talk to you but all he said was “ You? What could you possibly do to help me? You don't even know what a cannon event is let alone an anomaly! Por dios.” and straight into his office he went.

As much as you loved your husband you knew that a minute more of this would kill you.

You were two strangers living under the safe roof at this point, he wouldn't even notice if you left.

So you did.

First you called your lawyer to prepare the divorce papers, next you found a place to stay, packed your bags and now you were ready.

You wanted to tell him face to face but as soon as you looked his way he shrugged you off once again.

“Not now Y/n I have reports to write for the spider society.” and like always you were just another fly on the wall.

Sighing with tears brimming your eyes you grabbed a notebook and a pen.

You began writing a goodbye that he probably wouldn't even bother to read.

Dear Miguel,

Things haven't been the same for sometime now. It feels like the man I once fell in love with doesn't love me anymore and I've been hurting ever since. I feel like I'm holding you back from achieving your goal with all of these canon events and things I don't understand. I can't live like this anymore and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize. I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm leaving. Next to this note that you might not even read is an envelope with divorce papers that I've already signed and left ready for you to give to my lawyer to finalize the divorce. Lastly, I want to thank you for giving me what will always be the best years of my life. I'll cherish them with everything I am and always smile at the beautiful memories we made together. I'm sorry things didn't work out the way we thought they would.

With love always,

Y/n L/n

You didn't realize at what moment you began to cry but you’d managed to stain the letter. At that point you had no energy to write the damn thing all over again so you just folded it up and left it on top of the envelope.

Taking off your ring and wedding bang you set them next to it and walked out the door.

Giving what was once your home one last look, you turned your back to it and let the cool air hit your face as you got in your car and made your way to the airport.

No more going back Y/n, no more Miguel O’hara.

Little did you know as soon as you’d closed that front door Miguel's head poked out of his office, you never went out this late at night.

“Y/n? What did I tell you about taking out the trash? I ‘ll do it.” he said as he came out of his office annoyed by your lack of communication.

“Y/n? Y/n! Donde estas mujer?” (where are you woman?) he spoke out as he walked around the house.

No response.

After checking all the rooms and coming up empty handed Miguel started to feel a tightness in his chest.

“Boss, you should see these reports.” Lyla said over his shoulder.

“Not now Lyla I ‘m looking for my wife.” he said, shrugging the AI off.

“You think that stuff on the counter will give some clues?” she said pointing towards the letters in the kitchen.

Stopping in his tracks he turned towards the kitchen.

There was no fucking way, he thought to himself.

You’d never do this to him.

But you did.

Opening the letter he read it and quickly that tightness in his chest got tighter and his body began to shake as he felt panic consume him.

“Miguel… that envelope.” Lyla said quietly hoping it wasn't what she thought. But it was and she could just see her boss begin to break.

Ripping the envelope open he realized this isn't some kind of sick joke from your part.

Seeing your signature at the end of the page broke Miguel to pieces.

He read over the letter over and over hoping to find some clue as to where you went so he could bring you back home to him.

He knew he'd been distant for some time now but he didnt know it had affected you this badly, if he did he would've changed.

He would do anything to keep you by his side. He thought that by coming home at a decent hour you'd be happy even if he was just in his office.

Well fuck was he so wrong about that.

Picking up your rings Miguel finally let go of the tears he’d been trying so hard to hold back.

The feeling of the cold silver in the palm of his hands was like a slap in the face forcing him to accept that you’d left him.

You left thinking he hated you and for that he’d never be able to forgive himself, not for that or any of this.

Taking a deep breath he tried to focus.

“Lyla, call Jess, tell her she's in charge of the spider society until I find my wife and bring her home.” he ordered as he stood up walking towards your shared bedroom.

“Yes boss. Go get your girl back!.” she replied wishing him the best of luck before heading off to find his sub in.

Miguel had all the resources in the world, finding you would only take him seconds.

It was convincing you to come back that would be his biggest challenge.

But first he was paying a visit to your lawyer.

#miguel x reader #Miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman #across the spiderverse #spider-man 2099 #y/n #miguel o'hara x reader

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borathae · 7 months

Text

"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 🤎

“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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babushkatty · 4 months

Text

Tranquil SAGAU - Part 6

-> Part 1

-> Part 5

With Dvalin gone, you were left basically homeless. Not that it was much of an issue, not really. The forests had been very kind to you -- you could easily live the life of a hermit if you so wished, without having to worry about food, water, shelter or animal attacks.

But it would also be horribly lonely. No compassionate silence, no background noise and buzz of other people scurrying around and going about their day without minding you, no one to speak to if you ever felt the need to.

You liked being alone, but you were still human and humans were social animals.

Soooooo, you promptly asked Crepus about working in his Winery in exchange for accommodations, because 'one that asks, does not stray'... or something like that anyways. Your sister always made her life that much harder because she outright refused to ask for help even when hopelessly lost or overwhelmed, so there must be something to the saying at least.

"You don't have to work to earn your keep, (Name). I'd be more than happy to house you as my guest for however long you want!" is what Crepus 'Sunshine Personified' Ragnvindr responded with.

Crepus used Puppy Eyes, it was super effective!

You laid defeated, a puddle of cuteness overload once again wishing for sunglasses to protect yourself from the blinding smiles and imaginary wagging tails.

Crepus was horrible for your heart.

Still, you would go insane if left with nothing to do for days at a time, so you went to turn the Ragnvindr library upside down with Crepus' blessing, a bunch of notebooks, a bunch of pens and a delusion that you'd do any actual studying in there.

This was Teyvat, but this wasn't Genshin Impact -- a library wouldn't have interesting lore, it'd have dry history and even drier geography, accompanied by boring economics and even more boring politics (which was a damn shame too, politics were so interesting when written right).

You never quite had a head for those, prefering subjects with more practical applications that could be practiced instead of having to be beaten into your thick skull until you memorized it just long enough to write the exam.

Though for some ungodly reason you still remembered that onions were actually leaves. It was one of the very few things you remembered from school, actually.

Probably the trauma speaking.

Still, you did find some interesting books - a diary speaking of the Decarabian rule, for example.

Today, I don my very own Windblume.

I can only hope Lord Decarabian never learns of its' significance.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The winds are particularly harsh today.

I am afraid, but I smile and play my lyre as if nothing were happening at all, like I always do.

Sometimes, I forget if what I do is to reasure the people or to delude myself that everything is as it should be...

Then again, does it matter when the result remains the same?

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The people are growing restless.

Their yearning for freedom gave birth to a small wind spirit that seems fond of my playing. It is an adorable being, even if it has yet to communicate with us.

It remind me of a newborn puppy.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The people are planning a rebellion.

I want to help, but how can I? I am no soldier, my strength lays with the pen and the lyre, not with the sword.

Ragnvindr told me there was no need for more warriors, that I was doing enough by keeping the morale up with my performances... I am hesistant to believe him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The little spirit has spoken for the first time today.

It said that it knew the song I was playing, despite it being a new piece I was in the midst of creating, and sang along to lyrics I had yet to write.

It was strange, but it made me happy nonetheless.

Perhaps I was strange too, for feeling that way.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

You had a suspicion on who the author of the diary was by that point. Maybe Crepus would be open to giving this diary to Venti, instead of it gathering dust on the shelf?

Idly, you wondered how it had survived so long, but figured Ragnvindr and his descendants took good care of it.

I met Ragnvindr today.

Something compelled me to share my worries with him, even though I knew he had enough weight on his shoulders and I ought not to add more.

"If you cannot trust in yourself, then trust in me and my trust in you instead" he told me.

It helped.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

Meetings regarding the rebellion are more and more frequent. Ragnvindr, alongside a man named Amos, have convinced the Gunnhildr clan to participate against all odds.

I can understand their hesitance. Should we fail to kill Lord Decarabian, their legacy would be no more.

I admire their bravery.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The wind has long since realized change is imminent, even when Lord Decarabian himself has not - the little spirit said so.

King of Gales indeed, even the wind has rebelled against him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

Ragnvindr speaks of a bad premonition.

In truth, my heart is uneasy as well, but how can I share those feelings with anyone but myself? It is not the time to bother others with my issues -- it is time to reassure everyone, to rouse their spirit and not to let fear take root even as they stand against a God. It is my duty as a bard and as a fellow rebel.

The Windblume feels particularly heavy as I write this.

I fear I will not live to see tomorrow's sunset, but I fear for my dearest friends and for Mondstadt even more.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

My little spirit friend is still without a name.

I know it does not bother them, they are the wind itself after all, but I would still like to give them a name others can remember them by.

A name that they can remember me by once I pass on, selfish as it is to bind an immortal to a memory.

But I am selfish, even if Ragnvindr may see me as a paragon of virtue. I am a human and to be human is to be flawed. I am not ashamed of it, even if I often feel guilty for it.

Perhaps it will be the very last thing I achieve in this life of mine.

It is hard to name them.

I've thought of many names up until now.

Caelus. Liberius. Aella. Calliope. Achill. Carmine. Hilarius. Hanne. Zephyrinus. Dieter. Sascha. Scilla. Paulus. Notus. Veronica. Agna. Vergil.

Those are just a few of the ones I discarded.

None fit.

I can only hope the right name reveals itself when it is time.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

That was the last entry.

You closed the diary and carefully put it aside.

☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ* ✨ Author Note✨

It was not supposed to be mostly nameless bard POV via old diary.

It really wasn't.

Mans literally kidnapped the chapter entirely against my will while I was half asleep yesterday and attempting to write at nearly midnight and I was powerless to stop it, on god.

But hey, at least we got potential Venti bonding set up for the future?

I was planning for more fluff, but I also have no outline for this, so my chapters have a chance of getting kidnapped at any time.

✨BY THE WAY!!!!✨

The charm of spontaneous writing, I guess?

If you have something you want to happen - for example we're in the library right now, so maybe you want a book about a specific tidbit to appear - do let me know, maybe I'll write it in!

I had 2 tests and 1 retake yesterday and holy shit i got through all of them and tomorrow is last day of uni then it's ✨HOLIDAYS✨

✨Taglist✨

@game-savvy @chaoticfivesworld @mmeatt @avalordream @ymechi @andromeda-gay @naynayaa @undecidingfate @thedevioussmirk @tumb3ld0wn @balaur-bondoc @yi-chii @yarabutterfly @nervouseaglelover @vexingpraedyth @indelible-colouring-markers @whitefantasy21-blog @kapitankarate

#genshin sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #genshin impact #x reader #genshin x reader #isekai #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #self aware genshin

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allywthsr · 5 months

Text

SELFMADE CALENDAR | (l.norris)

summary: you and Lando pack an advent calendar for each other!

wordcount: 1.6k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: none!

notes: my first advent calendar! I hope you like it, tell me your thoughts 🥹

advent calendar

You looked around you, it was the last day of November and you had an advent calendar to pack. You hid in your shared bedroom, sitting on the ground and figuring out what to give him on what day, while Lando sat in his gaming room to pack yours there.

It became a little tradition since you started dating, to make each other a calendar. Lando had an easier job than you, he could put face masks, bath salts, chocolate, and other stuff for every day and you‘d be happy, but for him, it was much more difficult. He couldn’t just eat tons of chocolate, or Jon would get mad, and he was a rich man, whatever he wanted, he could buy it himself, and he did.

This year you wanted to make the best advent calendar you had ever done, buying things he actually needed. Last week he complained that his underwear had little holes in them, just like some of his socks, so you went and bought him a few pairs of each, and could fill five bags already. Socks and underwear wasn’t the best thing to get gifted, but he really needed these and he would be happy, at least you hoped. Another thing you got him was a smaller size of his favorite Parfum, just as some shaving cream as a joke for his beard as well as some razor blades for his razor, and some aftershave you found in a store.

You wanted to get him things he actually needed and just wouldn’t lay around, you had done that in the last years, getting him small things, like a mini teddy bear with an ’I love you‘ T-shirt on, its cute, and he was happy about it, but it’s just sitting in one of his drawers. And gifting him things like a picnic or general time with you was also something you didn’t want to do, time with you shouldn’t be gifted, it should be something you do regularly and not be done just because you wrote it on a piece of paper. And you did it regularly, whenever you could you would go out to eat or just enjoy a movie night, cuddling until you fell asleep or doing other nsfw things.

Next, you put a self-made bracelet in a bag, you knew how much he loved things like this, especially bracelets. It’s something his mum started when she gifted him one for Christmas a few years back and now he collected them. You had gotten him a fair amount, but also a lot of fans made him some and he loved them, he was wearing them for days and weeks. So it was time you got him one, that wasn’t bought but made. It was papaya colored, mixed with some of his iconic neon yellow plus your favorite color, you also put the first letter of your name on it, so he always knew it was from you.

You did put a few chocolates in eight bags, he deserved it, after the season he had. The chocolates vary from typical chocolate Santa Claus’s to kinder bars, because those are his favorites, but for your own peace of mind with Jon, you put some protein bars or healthy versions of chocolate in there as well.

Something you were extremely proud of, was a T-shirt you made, where the girlfriend prints pictures of herself on it for her boyfriend to wear. This was more like a joke, but you knew he would love it and would wear it proudly.

You knew that Lando would freak out if he found out how much money you spent, so for some bags you kept it small, adding his favorite shower gel or a xxl pack of his favorite gum just as his favorite lip balm because you knew how he would complain about having dry lips in the winter, crying about how soft yours were because you used some chapstick regularly. And one of your favorite things you gotten him, was a little notebook where you painted the outside because you couldn’t find the right one for him. Now it looked like the perfect fit for him, and he could start journaling again, you noticed how his mental health was a bit down and you knew from when he was in therapy that journaling helped him. So you got him a notebook and a collection of beautiful pens for him to write his feelings down when he couldn’t communicate them. Maybe it was something that other people wouldn’t consider putting in an advent calendar, but you knew he needed it and he would be very happy about it. Sometimes he got shy when he talked about his mental health and it wasn’t always easy for him to talk about it, he tried but every now and then he just needed some time and a journal to get his thoughts out of his head.

For the last day, Christmas, you got a necklace that was made out of a small silver chain and had a tiny heart dangling on it, the extra was, that you had your first letter engraved on the back of the heart. Lando was a sucker for something so cheesy, and he told you recently how much he wanted a new necklace. He loved to carry something of you on him, in fact, a Polaroid picture of you, he took a few years ago, was resting in his wallet, whenever he pulled it out to pay for something, he looked at you with a smile and got reminded that he was extremely lucky to have someone like you on his side. With that in mind, you got him the prettiest necklace there was.

One thing you had to do, was to write little notes every day and put them in every bag, on some you‘d just written ’I love you‘ or ’thank you for everything‘ but some were more explicit and some were just really cheesy, but you wanted to add the last personal touch before closing the bags with a strip of washi tape and adding a number for every day. You couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

So you gathered as many of his bags as you could carry and brought them to a shelf in the living room, in the end, you needed to do three trips to get all of his twenty-four bags there but when you lined them all up, it looked perfect. The colorful bags added a nice touch to the atmosphere and decoration you already put up for Christmas. You were curious about what Lando had bought.

Lando was on the floor as well, looking around and seeing that he went overboard with your presents again. He just loved seeing you happy and getting you stuff, he tried to keep it lowkey and buy some face, hand, and foot masks but he could not not buy you something more fancy. A phone case from your favorite luxury brand waited for you in bag ten, your concealer he knew you loved to use was sitting next to his foot as well as your powder, ready to be put in a bag, he did put a lot of your favorite Christmas sweets in some bags just as some hair ties because you could never have enough of them. Because you two were alike he bought you your parfum. A few bath salts made their way into separate bags, he knew how much you loved a relaxing bath, every now and then he would join you, sitting behind you while cuddling and talking about the most random stuff, mostly evolving to dirty activities. Lando was just like you and didn’t like gifting time, so he only focused on putting material things into the bags.

A Pyjama that was red and christmasy looking sat next to him, he got the same for himself, so you could match during the night. It was cheesy but sometimes he loved it. Last week he bought a stuffie from your favorite animal, you loved to decorate the bedroom with stuffies and he saw it at the airport when he was flying back home from his last race of the season. Two books from your favorite author were put in two separate bags and your favorite chocolate waited for him to pack. A few hair and skin care products made their way into a few bags as well.

For the last bag of the calendar, he got you a bracelet where a heart was sitting with an ’L‘ engraved, you both didn’t know that the other got the same thing but he thought a bracelet was cute and he wanted you to wear his initial on your body, he didn’t care that he was selfish.

He had the same thought as you did and printed out twenty-four pictures of you and him, writing little messages on the back. ’I love you‘ or ’ Have a good day, love‘, was his favorite to write, and he put one picture per day into the calendar.

When he was finished, he brought the advent calendar into the living room as well, displaying them on the shelf next to the one where you had put his‘.

When he saw you standing in the kitchen and preparing the dinner for the day, he had to wrap his arms around your waist, pressing you into him, and place kisses on your neck and shoulders.

”I finished your advent calendar.“

”I did so too.“

”I‘m excited for you to see all of your presents.“

”Lando, I hope you didn’t go all out again. Last year you got me new shoes for the first day!“

”It’s not that crazy, I promise, smells good by the way.“

”Thank you, baby, it’s almost done, would you mind setting the table?“

”Everything for my love.“

taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #christmas #advent calendar #lando norris one shot #lando imagine #formula 1

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potionpeddlerpatchy · 1 year

Text

word count: 10.2K

paring: Sero x fReader

warning(s): dirty talking, fingering(f! receiving), premature ejaculation, messy sex, semi-public sex (if ya squint) - you know the works here, pretty standard smut, nothing too crazy.

authors note: Happy Belated Birthday to me! Not only did the amazing Onyx give me this idea MONTHS ago about the dynamic between Sero and I, but this won the poll for what I was going to work on next - and though I went with Bakugou's story first (cause it was fresher in my mind) I have finally finished this! AND OH BOY, how self-indulgent I was with this one - I am not known for my dialog but couldn't help but put lots in here! That being said, I did try and keep this as generic as I could, just may not be AS generic, ya know? Anyway, I hope you all love this glorified tape dispenser as much as I do~🔮

Sero had always loved to draw, even when he was a little kid. What started as scribbles covering the walls of his home turned into small doodles - those that filled his notebooks more than his writing and school work turned into piles and piles of sketchbooks that were filled with intricate drawings and were stacked high within the confines of his room.

He remembered being little, using washable markers to doodle fun patterns and designs on his arms and the arms of his friends, remembering how most recess breaks were filled with doing a doodle request for several fellow classmates. To being older, and having those same classmates come up to him to see if they could utilize his skills to make projects look nicer; to make epic banners for school events, or to make posters pop in his signature way. Even while he was in college, next to a prestigious art school that only accepted a handful of creatives a year, he had people beg him to create designs for tattoos they were wanting to get; willing to pay lots of money so they could forever have a drawing of his on their skin.

And that sparked something inside him. A passion to turn a hobby into a career.

It took years and years of effort, of schooling, of practicing, of littering his skin with designs both good and bad - and subsequently spending more time fixing his faults - and then shadowing those more experienced, to be taken into their shops and under their wings, so he may draw on the bodies of those that were hoping to decorate their skin. Not all patrons were ideal; some were not hygienic, and others moved too much and then complained of sloppy work, demanding a refund. And not all shop owners were pleasant to work for; many accepted clients even when they shouldn't, often dismissing those beneath them out of pride and a superiority complex, and always taking the side of those patrons trying to scam him and his time. But there were a few people that made it all worth it in the end, a few colleagues turned friends that made ‘sticking it out’ much more bearable.

And without all the bumps and hurdles, Sero would not have become as confident in his abilities and his worth, and he would not have had the chance to meet so many amazing people and artists - some of which had the same goal and ideas in mind as he did; who would follow him wherever he went. Before he even knew it, Hanta Sero finally achieved his goal, of making his childhood dream and hobby into a reality. He finally owned his tattoo parlor.

He found a little shop within the city, perfect enough for him and a few friends to call their own, to create their own brand, and to make their own living; to finally call the shots and have complete creative control. The building itself was a little run down - something to be expected with the small price tag attached - but it was the ideal size for all of them and in the perfect location. So no one cared that it needed a few months of intense TLC to get the building up to code, it was more than worth the effort. And before anyone knew it the inspector came to claim the building was up to standards, giving the business license and the all-clear to start accepting patrons; it only took a few days before people heard the news.

When word got around that Sero and his business partners had finally opened their shop, to start accepting clients and creating art on their skin that they would enjoy for a lifetime, so many jumped on the chance to get an appointment with them - Sero especially. Some were people he had known for years, eagerly awaiting another drawing of ink, and some were those that saw his work on the many social pages advertising the business that wanted to add another to their growing collections. Whatever the case was, once he turned on the neon ‘open’ sign on the day of opening, he and his friends were booked for months in advance.

And the cherry on top of all of this? Another wonderful addition to the streams of success he was facing, was the bookstore that sat just across the street from him.

Not because he was into books, though he did read from time to time and enjoyed it when he did, but because of the owner that bookshop had. At first, he couldn’t be sure you were the owner, but day in and day out he watched you show up at opening and leave at closing, and unless you were an incredibly dedicated employee, it was an easy assumption to make. And Sero couldn’t deny that he thought you were pretty when he first caught sight of you through his window after closing on his first day; and he couldn’t deny that he would wait with anticipation when you closed your shop and would begin making your way home, just so he could get a glimpse of your cute face.

He wished he had the free time to go and speak to you, to see you up close and hear your voice (which he could just tell was adorable and sweet), but his clientele made it nearly impossible for him to get the chance. By the time the last client would leave, your shop would already be closed, and for some time, with you nowhere in sight. There were just simply not enough hours in the day for him to spare to meet you; as well he was terrified of canceling an appointment or rejecting a client so early on in all of this, afraid that one bad comment could ruin the shop and cause it to sink.

But Sero always made the best of any situation, that was part of his charm. He figured that if he didn’t have the time to go in and speak to you, to properly act on his little crush, he would let you know who he was and his existence through different means.

Romantic gestures that could be seen as small and friendly - those that wouldn’t scare you off or have you become afraid. He started by sending you flowers; a small bouquet to help liven your shop if you wanted; which you did if the vase by your check-out counter was any indication. Next were chocolates, all bundled in pretty wrapping paper for you to carefully tear away. Then balloons, attached to a small gift basket with quality skincare items that could be found at his shop with his business card nustled amongst the jars and tins to ensure that you knew who sent them and that it was from the new neighbor across the street - not some strange admirer.

He could tell that you liked them, given the delight that bloomed on your face whenever you received them - the bright smile as you brought those flowers to your nose to inhale their earthy scent, or when you eagerly started to open up some of the chocolates to enjoy, or when you carefully inspected each tin of cream; placing a small dollop on the back of your hand before putting them aside and back to your work. Sero especially knew you liked them when, a week later, you sent a gift basket back to him filled with artisan treats from the local farmers market; with a card welcoming the new store to the neighborhood.

After a while of staring hopelessly at you, to the point where all his friends were relentlessly teasing him, Sero finally made the decision to meet you properly; to make his way over to your shop to say hello.

“And it has nothing to do with Kaminari!” he exclaimed at Kirishima and Mina, ensuring they could hear him over the snickering, as he grabbed his jacket to sling over his shoulders.

“Sure, whatever you say, big guy~” Mina sang as waved goodbye with a wink, clearly not buying it - especially as Kaminari just got back from your shop, book in hand that you recommended.

Sero shook his head, out of frustration at Mina’s words knowing that she called his bluff, as he slammed the door shut behind him and briskly walked across the street; breathing a sigh of relief, one that made the tension in his shoulder slack, when he stepped foot into your shop. It was everything he thought a bookstore should be; it was cozy and warm, the kind that would make anyone instantly at ease and would spend hours just curled up to read; which he assumed the patron he walk passed had been doing all day.

“Welcome! Can I help you?” A voice sang through the air, causing his head to turn to face a young woman - sadly not you - wearing an apron with the store's logo on it.

“Uh, not sure.” Sero smiled, nodding his head in acknowledgment, and as a polite hello, before gazing around.

“First time here?” She inquired, moving behind a nearby counter to grab a stack of books.

“Yeah, pretty obvious huh?”

“A little, many have the look on their face when they first come in. It’s a little overwhelming at times, the place is a bit bigger than they assume.”

“You could say that again…” Sero could hear her airy giggle, watching in the corner of her eye as she began to sort through the titles.

“I can give you the run down if you like?”

“Please, if you don’t mind.”

“Not a problem at all, sir.” She smiled, pausing her task to free her hands for gesturing with her explanation “This place is a lot like a library, people can come and go as they please, staying all day if they want to, without the pressure of needing to buy something. They can also borrow books for a small fee if they want, to ensure they don’t waste their money on a bad book, or they can obviously purchase them if they want.”

“A safe haven for those that love books, huh?” Sero chimed with a smile, taking another glance at all the sitting areas close to him - the plush pillows and fireplace inviting for those that would want to curl up.

“Pretty much, that was the idea” The employee agreed, already starting to sort again “Have a look and take all the time you need.”

Sero left her with a ‘thank you’ and another nod before venturing further into the store - taking stock of what sections of books there were and all the small cozy nooks for people to curl up in; taking his time to explore the entirety of the shop before leaving. “For research purposes, in case I wanna go back” he would mumble to himself, ready to defend his actions from his teasing friends upon his return. It was for those reasons, and those alone, not at all because he was trying to find you.

He finally did come across you, after what seemed like hours of searching, hidden away within the Historical Fiction sections tucked near the back walls, shelving some books that were stacked within your arms and reorganizing the ones that had been misplaced. To say Sero was smitten with you would have been an understatement before, but now? Seeing you so close? Smitten would not even begin to compare to how love-struck he was; one so strong it struck him dumb and left him unable to do anything but look at you.

“Sir?”

Sero couldn’t tell if he was lucky or not to have your voice call out to him; luck that it broke him out of the stupor he was in, unlucky that he was unable to say or do anything more than gaze up at you with his mouth agape.

“Do… do you need help with anything?” Your sweet voice called out to him again, though clearly confused, and it made Sero look away to try and gain his thoughts once more.

“A-art book.” He cleared his throat, cheeks turning hot and red as his eyes did their best to look anywhere but you “Looking for one of those.”

“Well, which one?” You smiled, biting your lip to hide it as you gently placed the books you were holding down.

“Art, The Definitive Visual Guide” Sero blurted, voice sounding rushed as he named the first art book he bought when in college; watching as your brows furrowed as you took a moment to process what he said.

“By Dixon?”

“Y-yes!” Sero exclaimed, eyes brightening and heart swelling with pride when you giggled over his excitement.

“Well, that would be in our art section, which would be…” You began to lean forward, carefully perching yourself on your ladder to see past the bookshelf currently in your way “Ah! Just over there!”

“O-over there?” Sero nodded, trying his best to not be affected by the smell of your shampoo as it lingered in the air as you moved to stand upright again “T-that’s perfect thank you!”

“Oh, no worries at all! You just let me know if you can’t find it okay?” You smiled, already picking your books back up.

Sero smiled back, giving a wave goodbye, before almost scurrying away; head hanging in defeat once he knew you were out of sight. A small part of him hoped he couldn’t find the book so he could talk to you again, but he knew that would be a mistake - especially as the spine of the book stared right back at him when he first began looking in the section you sent him to. Begrudgingly he accepted his fate, bringing the book up to the front cash and paying the borrowing fee to the employee he met earlier.

He came back to the parlor feeling like a complete idiot over messing up his first proper encounter with you, not doing at all what he planned to do - not being the effortlessly charming and fun guy he knew he was. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep stopping by.

After all, he had to return the book he borrowed.

Sero waited a week, in his mind if he went back the next day it would cause him more harm than good; would lead to you asking him way more questions than he would want about the book itself - and well, he already made a fool of himself once. Besides, the week-long buffer would allow him the chance to clear his head and come up with a game plan, so he could be properly prepared himself to see you again.

Because this time he wanted to start an actual conversation with you, one where he could learn about who you were, why you opened this store and everything in between that led to this moment in time. He wanted to know if his crush on you was justified, or if he should just cut his losses now before he was in too deep. But to be fair, based on what all his friends have said, he already was; even so, he couldn’t hold onto that book forever.

Regardless of what the outcome may be, he had to see you again; even if it meant rescheduling a client for a Sunday to make up the lost time, he just had to get to you and your store before closing.

And it was the perfect time to go he found. The store was almost completely empty, with seemingly no one else in the building but you as you began your usual routine for closing - so dutifully organizing stacks of papers and placing books that needed to be returned into a neat little pile; he almost felt bad for clearing his throat and breaking you out of your stride.

“H-hi!” You exclaimed, your body jolting in surprise when you regarded him, clearly not used to anyone being here so late “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you sooner, I hope you weren’t waiting long!”

“No you’re fine, I just walked in,” Sero reassured, taking a step closer to your counter.

“Oh, are you here to return that art book? The one by Dixon?” You asked, back straightening as you smiled up at him. “I hope you liked it!”

“I did, it was a great read.” Sero mirrored your smile as he handed the book back over to you, enjoying the way your smaller hand brushed against his briefly “Though I was wondering if you could me find a similar book?”

“Sure, of course! Do you want a recommendation or are you looking for a specific title?”

“Uh, Creatives on Creativity is what I am looking for,” Sero said, breathing a mental sigh of relief over remembering the title - one he only heard of a day prior when searching for art books to ask you about.

“Creatives on Creativity…” You mumbled, turning to your computer to check if you had the title in stock - the sound of a keyboard clacking could be heard, filling the silent space briefly “By Steve Brouwers?”

“Yup! That’s the one” Sero confirmed with a nod, perfectly hiding the fact he was completely unsure as he watched you round the counter of the counter with a wave.

“Yeah, we should have a few in stock if you would follow me!”

You took him back to the Art Section, your stride confident as you weaved your way through bookcases and magazine towers, as you began locating the book in question; trying to remember where exactly you cataloged it - whether it was with the Art Help books or the Art Education ones.

Sero followed behind you, keeping his stride to a more casual pace to avoid possibly stepping on your heels, as he regarded your profile; enjoying the concentrated gazes, those mixed with slight perplexity, as you looked from shelf to shelf trying to help him out. Never before was he grateful, and possibly will never be again, about having trouble trying to find a book.

“Can I ask you something?” He finally spoke, watching as you began to stand on a small stool to look at a higher shelf, figuring his time was running out.

“Uh, sure?” You muttered, voice soft as you continued on your hunt. “Go ahead”

“I’m sure you get asked this all the time, but I’m curious as to what a bookshop owner's favourite book is?”

“Oh! Wow, that’s a great question!” You said, finally sparing him a brief glance with a smile “And one that’s kinda tough to answer. I love books from all genres for different reasons, so to compare one that’s horror to one that’s fantasy is a little difficult to do.”

“Well, what are you enjoying right now?” Sero asked, body leaning against the bookshelf so he could continue gazing up at you.

“Uhh, wow what am I reading right now?” You chuckled nervously as your mind began to race, feeling your cheeks heat up as you heard him do so as well “Let's see… probably The Historian, it’s a thriller mystery kinda deal - involves vampires and stuff - it’s proving to be quite fun”

“Vampires?”

“Yeah… it’s historical fiction. It blurs the lines of what happened with whatever our imaginations can think of with the folklore of Vlad Țepeș and Dracula. Partly why I like it I guess…”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sero hummed, watching as you scanned the titles before you, almost as if you were counting each one for inventory later “Take it that’s why you opened this place? Fell in love with reading books from far and wide?”

“Something like that” You agreed with a shrug of your shoulders “Wanted to be a librarian, always thought they had a great gig going on, and one thing led to another and, well, here we are.”

As you spoke your deft fingers delicately pulled the book you both were looking for from its place in the self, where it was hiding. Once you secured it in your grip, you slowly descended from your stool handing the book out to him once your feet were securely on the ground.

“And here you are.” You smiled, watching as he stood upright and uncrossed his arms.

“Thanks, for finding this for me” He gingerly took the book from you and tucked it under his arm, smiling wider at your cheery response back; following you obediently back up to the cash to once again pay the borrowing fee.

“Hey, if you don’t mind…” Sero began, fingers tapping nervously against the wood of the countertop “I have one more question to ask ya.”

“Sure, go ahead!” You giggled, amused by his polite curiosity as you began the transaction of payment.

“Would you want to go for some coffee sometime?”

His question made your fingers fumble on the touchpad, causing an error screen to pop up and for you to almost frantically try to fix, and you nervously cleared your throat; face going hot in surprise and embarrassment over your stumbled, and failed, answer back.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you or make you uncomfortable” Sero tried to soothe, hands raising up and away from the bubble around you to prove he meant no harm “Just think you’re cute and would like to treat you to some coffee, that’s all.”

“W-well, that’s um, very sweet of you, I just um…” You floundered, doing your best to finish quickly so you could hide away from him - to shield him from witnessing your embarrassment further “Just don’t think that would be a good idea?”

“You don’t? Why not?”

“Y-you know, we’re strangers! We only met a few days ago and all….”

“Actually we’re neighbors, good ones at that if our gift exchange was anything to go by.” Sero clarified, watching as the realization of who he was crossed your face, his hands lowered to shove themselves in his jacket pockets before shrugging his shoulders “But hey, not gonna pressure you or anything. If you don’t want to that’s cool, I won’t pressure you!”

“I’m flattered, believe me, just….” You countered a sheepish look on your face as you passed the book back his way for him to take “Maybe some other time.”

“Sure thing, thank you again,” Sero said, giving you one last small smile before taking his book and leaving; wishing you a good night as he walked past the threshold of your store with a wave.

A few things were certain that night; the first being that you were worth having a crush on, and he would love the chance to treat you right. And second, you were not used to the straightforward approach, and if he didn’t want to screw anything up, he would have to be patient and go about things slowly.

But Sero Hanta was up for any challenge, and you were more than worth the wait.

After that night, Sero found himself stopping by your shop a few times a week; to return a new book he borrowed (and spent the night before diligently reading), and to further chat with you. The conversations were always led by a question or two before it sparked into something beautiful - he loved the way you would ramble, talking with your hands, as you explained something, how passionate you got over the things you loved, and how blessed he found himself when you tried to tell a story from when you were younger but couldn’t over your laughter of remembering it all.

And after each night, when the conversation had reached its end and the book he had paid for was tucked snugly under his arm, he would, without fail, ask you out on a date as he was leaving your shop; in love with the smile and the amused shake of your head when you bid him a simple goodnight, to - “try again some other time” - before shutting the door behind him and switching you sign to closed.

Slowly but surely you were coming out of your shell, becoming more than eager to spend the last hour in his company; you didn’t realize it right away, but soon you found yourself noticing how excited you got when you would greet him. Or how you would try and keep the conversation going just a little bit longer as you walked to the cash, not wanting the night to end so soon. And how you would linger close to him before closing the door and saying good night. He was fun company, some of the best you ever had, and you couldn’t deny that you were starting to catch feelings for him too; to slowly become as enamored as he was.

Sero noticed this little factor as well, after a couple of months of visiting, when it was you who ask him a question; as you gingerly took hold of his arm to get a better look at the intricate tattoo that was perfectly placed on his forearm after handing him his recently purchased item.

“Did you do this yourself?” You whispered, almost in awe, as your fingertips barely brushed over the details of the design.

“Yeah,” Sero breathed out, quite taken aback by your bold action - though nowhere near complaining. “Took a while, but I think it turned out great.”

“Did you design it too?”

“Mm-hmm, designed all the tattoos on my body.” His eyes shifted their gaze from his arm to your face, “Wanted to work on my skin first before anyone else’s, just in case I wasn’t good at it.”

“I think it’s safe to say that you are, it’s beautiful work.”

“Do you have one?”

“N-no…” You broke your gaze away, taking a step back from him - completely aware of how close and possibly inappropriate you were behaving.

“You want one?” Sero inquired with a clear of his throat; wanting nothing more than to move closer to you again, to gain that moment of intimacy once more, but knew he couldn’t

“Well yeah,” You shrugged, looking anywhere but at him, “But I just never really know what to get, and I don’t wanna regret getting something cause it’ll be on my skin forever, you know?”

“I can design something for you if you want?”

“You would?”

“Obviously, wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to!” He smiled, grabbing a piece of scrap paper and a marker from your countertop “Just tell me some things that you like, and I’ll come up with something! See, I already know you like owls, and foxes, and of course historical fiction and fantasy books…”

“Sero, listen this is really sweet! I am honored you would do this for me and all but….” You began, cutting him off from his parade of knowledge of all things you loved - heart swelling almost uncomfortably with the attention - “But really, you don't have to do this for me.”

“You kidding, I would love to! If I didn’t I wouldn’t have done this for a living; hard to make a career out of something you hate!”

“Yeah, clearly, I obviously get it. But even so, you’re booked for months! You got plenty of other clients that need your attention and designs a lot more than I do.”

“Oh ho~ How do you know I’m booked for months?” Sero teased, enjoying how you looked away in fake annoyance as your shoulders raised in embarrassment “Even if I was, which you’re so cutely right that I am, I would reserve a spot for you regardless.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it can be after hours too, if you wanted.” Sero offered, with a shrug “Ya know if that would help put your nerves at ease; less people and all that stuff. And it could help make you feel better about accepting my offer~ I wouldn’t have to cancel on a client if you did.”

You sighed, shoulder slumping as you weighed his very tempting offer. You had been wanting a tattoo, ever since the new parlor opened across the street; and especially so every time you looked in Sero’s direction - the ink that was littered across his skin was beautiful - now here was the most perfect opportunity to finally get one and to get some more alone time with the artist himself; you knew you would regret it every day if you said no; despite your nerves telling you otherwise.

Squaring your shoulders you finally looked back at him, giving him a nod of approval over his proposition.

“Yes!” His fists thumped the counter as he proclaimed his excitement over your acceptance “I promise you won’t regret it! I’ll start working on the designs tonight and will have them done A-S-A-P!”

“Okay, okay!” You laughed, playfully rolling your eyes at his childish behavior “Sounds good to me.”

“Oh! One more thing!” He passed the marker over to you, his palm slayed out as if acting as a canvas “I’ll need your number so I can both let you know when the design is done and so I can book you in for your appointment.”

“Okay, well then hand me the paper you were just scribbling on” You pointed and the scrap paper, brows furrowing when you watched him shake his head ‘no”.

“No can do babe, it’s covered with stuff already. Just write it on my hand”

“Sero, this is a permanent marker, I’m not going to do that!”

“I think I’m more than comfortable with permanent ink on my skin,” Sero winked, moving his palm closer to you “It’ll come off in a few days, but hey, if you don’t want me to leave you could just say so~”

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes again, hating that he was right and you were wasting time yet again to have him stay longer. You acquiesced, taking hold of his hand to keep it steady as you carefully wrote your number, being sure it was as clear as possible to avoid any confusion or mishaps that could be caused if you didn’t.

You watched as Sero left, head held high and chest filled with puffed-up pride as he sauntered back to the parlor; clearly happy with himself at winning you over and gaining your number.

It only took four days before you got the message from Sero; stating, with plenty of exclamation marks, about how your design was done and to stop by at any time to come and review the sketches - he was more than happy to squeeze you in at a time that worked best for you; whether that be between a client or after-hours.

And well, the thought of coming after hours was tempting, your confidence in quelling those nerves that swam in your stomach wasn’t strong enough yet; you were already pushing your limits when it came to the tattoo appointment. But the thought of you extending your lunch break by a few minutes seemed like a good idea.

The sign said ‘Closed for Lunch’ when you finally made your way across the street, and though Sero was insistent that you could come in regardless, you were still a little hesitant; standing by the door debating whether to knock or just walk in.

The decision was made for you when a woman with beautiful soft pink hair opened the door, startling you out of your thoughts as she asked if she could help you with anything.

“I-i’m just here to review some sketches…” You mumbled, hands playing nervously with your phone that still had the messages from Sero open “But I can come back if you’re closed!”

“It’s with Sero right?” She inquired, golden eyes squinting at you as they scanned you from head to toe;

“Yeah..” You nodded your head, trying your best not to shift your body in reaction to her gaze.

“Oh my gosh! So it’s you! The librarian across the street!” She squealed, wasting no time in taking your arm and pulling you into the shop “I’ve heard so much about you! Just been dying to meet you! I’m Mina, one of the artists here.”

“Bookstore owner….” You mumbled, casting a shy smile her way as you gave her your name “Heard about you as well, it’s really nice to meet you too”

“Right, bookstore owner, sorry about that!” Mina waved in apology, taking a step back to appraise you once more “and I gotta say, super jealous of Sero that he snagged you as his client; you’re a total babe! Like, that outfit is to die for! Where’s you get it?”

You could feel the blood rush to your face at her statement, her brazen compliment both flattered and embarrassed you as you mumbled out a ‘thank you’ as you gazed down at what you were wearing.

“And oh my god, your nails!” She exclaimed again, taking hold of your hand to inspect closely inspect your delicately painted fingernails “These are so pretty! Where’d you get them done?”

“Uh, the spa a few blocks down the road” You answered with a breathless laugh at her enthusiasm “They always do a good job.”

“I can tell! I’ve always wanted to check them out, but was a little unsure, but now I’m definitely gonna go as soon as I can!” She squealed, squeezing your hand in delight “Oh, but you’re not here for me, which is a total bummer. Sero’s station is just back here, I’ll let him know you’re here!”

You gave her your thanks, appreciating her help and unknowingly helping you become more at ease, as she led you to Sero’s area; leaving you with a wave and a promise he’ll join you in a few minutes.

His area was quite spacious, possibly the largest out of the others you passed, and the furthest from the front door. His chair and equipment sat near the center of it all, just slightly off to the left for others to pass by, and looked clean and organized as you peered around the room. He had a work table as well, pressed up against the wall, with a book of design and sketches.

If you were braver you would have opened it and gone through the slightly worn pages to see what they contained. But instead, you opted to scan the wall before you, taking in the fun, wild, and beautiful designs that were taped to them; staring in awe at just how beautiful they all were. Masterpieces in black and coloured ink, ones you were sure some lucky people got to wear proudly on their skin.

Or perhaps they were littered on his…

Sadly, you couldn’t allow your mind the chance to wander to such thoughts, to wonder just how much of his body was covered in ink and how low some tattoos would travel, before you hear his footsteps approaching.

“Hey! Admiring the wall?” He greeted, his smile as bright and friendly as always when he greeted you

“Yeah, the designs are beautiful” You glanced back at him with a smile “But I think you already knew that.”

“What can I say, just like hearing people sing my praises!” He joked with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders before walking up to you “But we’re not here to talk about these, eh?”

You watched as he gently, smoothly, pulled open a large drawer at the table you were currently standing at, one you didn’t realize was there given the sleek design. Carefully he pulled out a tiny stack of papers, laying them out before you to inspect and admire, as his arm kept him leaning over the table, and more importantly, you.

You tried your best not to be affected by his voice, how his breath tickled your ear, as he spoke about the direction he went with the designs. Some larger, more detailed as they encompassed all the things you loved - like the barn owl sounded by flora and books before a full moon - and some that were smaller, simply beholden of a single item you loved, like a sitting fox amongst fall leaves; and where on your body each tattoo would be placed.

He left a pause when he was done speaking, allowing you the chance to mill over what he said; to further inspect his designs, and to take your time in picking out what you wanted most; unable to help himself from staring at you, eyes half-lidded, as you bit your lip in concentration.

“I like the fox,” you finally whispered, pulling the sketch closer to you to admire it further, already imagining where it will sit on your arm.

“Yeah?” was all Sero could breathe out as he leaned in closer to you

“Mm-hmm” You nodded, finally turning your head to face him; watching as his eyes gazed at your lips, causing you to do the same “...h-how much will it be?”

You could feel your breath catching in your throat as Sero ignored your question, instead taking the opportunity to lean his face closer to yours; feeling his breath gently fan against your lips as you shut your eyes in anticipation; wanting nothing more than to feel what his kiss would be like.

“Sero, delivery is here!”

A gruff voice is what made you turn your head away; face scrunching in frustration over the unwanted interruption. You heard him sigh; feeling cold and a little disappointed when you felt his warmth pull away from you.

“Yeah… I’ll be right there Bakugou…” Sero spoke firmly, trying his best to keep his voice from sounding frustrated and annoyed as he looked back at his friend “Just finishing up here.”

Sero took another deep breath, one that turned into a loud sigh, over the now-ruined moment as he pulled the fox design from the pile of paper; taking a step away from you with a shake of his head.

“Don’t worry about paying, it’s on the house.” He gave a pained smile, slowly backing his way towards the backrooms, to where Bakugou was waiting “Just pick a day with Mina and we’ll go from there, ‘kay?”

You simply nodded your head, giving him a small smile and wave as you watched him disappear; taking the time to finally release the air you were holding as you clenched your fist in anger over your ruined kiss; at how perfect Bakugou’s timing was in all of it.

But after a moment, you couldn’t help but laugh; shaking your head in amusement as slowly made your way back to the front desk to book your appointment; knowing you had to get back to work soon and relieve your assistant.

It wasn’t long before the day of your tattoo arrived; the Saturday you booked it for came faster than anticipated, though the entire day felt like a year as you kept glancing at the clock to see how much time has passed, only to groan to yourself when it showed a mere 10-minutes.

Cataloging books did help with your dilemma, taking your mind off the many hours between you and seeing Sero again, as you continuously went up and down your little ladder to put the many returned books away. And before long, it was 9:00 pm, and you could flip your sign to ‘Closed’ and make your way across the street.

You were surprised, given that the parlor was supposedly closed - or at the very least seeing their last clients at that point of the night - to see all the artists by the front desk chatting away; almost as if they were waiting for you to arrive.

“There you are!” Mina exclaimed, making her way from behind the desk over to where you stood, taking your jacket, and hanging it up for you “Thought you got cold feet on us!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that” You smiled, allowing her to complete her courteous gesture “And if I did cancel I would make sure you knew.”

“Are you excited!? First tattoos are always the most fun!”

“I am! Been looking forward to this all week!”

“Oh, I’m sure you have~” Mina winked, “Now, let me introduce you to the other artist! Well, we’re all friends here but ya know.” She guided you over to where the three men stood, pointing first to a blonde with an unamused expression “You already met Bakugou last time you were here, I think you met Kaminari when he was at your store a few weeks back. And that giant redhead is Kirishima - he looks more scary than he is!”

“It’s really nice to meet you!” Kirishima smiled, nudging Bakugou to acknowledge your presence - which he did in the form of a nod - before extending his hand out to you to shake “Heard a lot about you, been meaning to stop by your store for a while now. Apparently, you give good recommendations!”

“Oh, I do?” You asked, gingerly shaking his hand with a confused expression

“Of course you do, babe! Why else would Sero keep bugging you~” Kaminari jumped in, winking as he took your hand in his own and squeezed it “Nice to see you in our neck of the woods finally.”

“Okay okay! That’s enough, you guys!” Sero finally emerged, walking his way in between the group to disperse them; pulling Kaminari away from you to force him to let go of your hand “You should all be getting ready to leave, as you said you would!”

“Oh come on man! We just wanted to say hi to her!” Kaminari whined as he, and the rest of the group, were huddled towards to back of the place while you stood in place, fighting off a wave of giggles that were threatening to overcome you over the whole scene.

After a moment Sero returned, smoothing out his shirt as he tries his best to act as nonchalantly as possible; an act you could see right through given the blush that was dusting his cheeks but decided not to comment on.

“Sorry about all that, you ready to get started?” He asked, hand running through his hair nervously.

You hum in agreement, head nodding as you let him guide you back to his station; once there he motioned for you to get comfortable on the plush leather chair as he got his equipment ready.

“Your friends are really nice,” You commented, tugging up the sleeve of your shirt for ease of access.

“Yeah, they are” Sero admitted, chuckling to himself “Pains in the ass half the time, but they mean well”

“Well, that’s how you know they love you” You chimed, sitting more upright as you watched him press an alcohol swab against your skin for a moment

“Guess you’re right.” He shrugged, holding up the stencil of your tattoo next to your arm “You want the tattoo here or a little lower?”

“No, there looks good! After all, you are the expert” You smiled, allowing him to press the paper against your skin; feeling him pressing down on it, before removing it to showcase the temporary art that was to forever be marked on your skin.

“Yeah that looks good,” He murmured, taking his tattoo machine in hand and dipping it in ink “Now, you let me know if this hurts, or becomes too unbearable okay?”

“Okay..” You bit your lip and nodded your head as you stared at the machine.

“Don’t worry, on arms you normally can’t feel anything” Sero reassured “ and I’ve got a steady hand which helps. All this just looks more scary than it is.”

“Like Kirishima”

“Yeah!” He laughed, shaking his head at your silly, but accurate, comment “Just like Kiri. Now, take a deep breath for me, kay?”

You nodded and did as you were told, taking a deep breath as his machine whirled to life; you watched with bated breath as it approached your skin, letting out a large sigh of relief when it finally touched you and no pain could be felt.

“See? Not so bad, yeah?” Sero smiled, slowly beginning to outline his design.

“Yeah…”

You didn’t converse much after that, not because you didn’t want to, but rather because you were blown away by Sero’s skills and concentration. You had never seen this side of him before. Normally he was goofy, animated, and fun, which you thought was endearing and cute; gave him his boyish charm. But now? As you watched his brows furrow and eyes look at you with such steely focus, you couldn’t help but find him extremely attractive. Choosing not to break the silence in fear of breaking his concentration, and thus this newfound allure, or embarrassing yourself.

Though he did make it difficult.

Throughout the entire session, every time he needed to shade something or thicken a line, he would always praise you after; claiming you were doing ‘such a good job’ for pushing through it; or for being called a ‘good girl’ when you took a needed deep breath at the right moment in time.

He said it so often that you can’t tell if he’s being reassuring or doing it to get a rise out of you; to tease you to see you get all hot and bothered.

Whatever the case was, it was affecting you way more than it should have; lighting a small fire deep within your core as you tried to rub your thighs together without him noticing to relieve some of the newfound pressure, as you suppressed all the small squeaks your wanted body wanted to let out every time another praise left his mouth.

It was agonizing torture in the best possible way; and when the session was finally done, when he was gently placing cellophane wrap over your fresh tattoo, you weren’t sure whether you were relieved or disappointed that it was all over.

“How much…” You gently cleared your throat, voice a little raspy over underuse “How much do I owe you again?”

“I already told you, babe,” Sero chuckled, carefully putting away his equipment “It’s on the house, my treat for you allowing me to borrow all those books.”

“You paid for those, Sero” You shot back, legs moving over the side of the chair as you leaned closer to him; showcasing your cleavage further from the lowcut hem of your shirt “I can’t just let you give me something like this for free - it’s not fair.”

“I told you, I like doing this.” He shrugged, ignoring you and your subsequent subtle attempts of seduction “More than happy to do this for you, think of it as a first-timer bonus!”

“There must be some way I can pay you back”

It was your tone that made Sero’s back straighten, clearing his throat he carefully placed what was in his hand down to turn and face you - breathing ceasing when he saw you sitting so pretty for him; the dark look in your eye making this cock twitch to life in his pants.

Sero couldn’t help it when his tongue poked out to lick his lips, unable to stop his eyes from trailing over your figure sitting before him; his own legs spreading further apart as he shifted a little closer to you; making you bite your lip.

“How about finally going on that date with me?” He offered, hands twitching in his lap as he tried his best to restrain himself from touching you without permission.

“Payments happen immediately after a service…it wouldn’t be right paying you back days later, especially after you did such an amazing job” You reasoned, your voice barely above a whisper as you tilted your head up; brushing your nose against his “I prefer to pay you back now, kay?”

“Kay…” Sero barely even had the chance to whisper the word out before your lips pressed firmly into his; hands fisting into his shirt to keep him from pulling away.

As if Sero even wanted to move away, his own hands reaching out to pull you closer to him; closing any inch of space between him and your soft body. His hand cupped your face to deepen the long-awaited kiss that he dreamed about for weeks, as he slotted between your legs, groping and pinching the meat of your thigh as he hiked your leg up to wrap around his waist as he placed more of his weight onto you; groaning into your open when your clothed cunt brushed against his hardening length.

Your sweet, breathless, mewls were addicting and it made his mind dizzy with lust as his lips descended down your jaw and onto your neck; licking and sucking on the sensitive skin you so graciously barred to him, biting down on your pulse to hear you cry out his name into the heated air as he continued to grind his hips against yours.

His kisses continued downwards to your chest, pulling your shirt down - not bothering or wanting to take a mere moment to part from you to properly rid yourself of the article of clothing - before his lips began to suckle at the plump flesh his found; moaning into the heated flesh as he relished the way your hand began to tangle and tug at his hair.

It was all so much, and yet not enough for you; the fire that slowly emerged in your core was raging for me, not being fully satisfied with his sweet kisses or the grind of his hips. You needed more, been craving for more for hours, and you were starting to get a little impatient as you guided the hand pinching and stroking your thigh up to your core.

“Sero, please, touch me more,” You sighed out, legs widening to give him better access as held his hand against the damp cotton of your panties

“Hanta,” He corrected you, wringing his hand from your grasp to slowly stroke his knuckle up and down your slit “call me that, and I’ll do what you want, you needly little thing.”

“Hanta, please? Want you…” You whined, arching your back in an attempt to get more friction; unable to keep the smile off your face when you heard him groaning; clearly loving the way his name sounded off your needy tongue.

“That’s a good girl, hips up” He gently coaxed your lower half off the chair to pull your panties down your leg; pocketing them for later, before slowly guiding your legs to spead even wider for him “Already so wet after a few kisses, hm?”

You looked away, face buried into his neck, the heat burning your cheeks in embarrassment over his teasing, as you nodded your head - unable to muster the courage to say the truth - as your heart fluttered over his rumbling chuckle.

“Aw, are we shy now?” He teased even more, deft fingers spreading your lower lips apart to gently stroke at your hardened clit “You weren’t shy a second ago when you asked me to play with this pretty pussy, want me to stop?”

He felt you shake your head, a sweet little whine accompanying the motion, as you continued to cling to him; your warm breath, coming out in pants, next to his ear made him slow his pace to one that could barely be considered movement.

“I dunno, it sure seems like you do”

“N-no!” You mumbled, gripping his shirt tighter; biting your lip to suppress another whine threatening to escape. “Please don’t stop..”

“Then let me see that pretty face, hm,” He asked, tone still mirthful as he watched you slowly come out of your hiding spot “There you are, look at you, huh? All cute and flustered, you like what I’m doing that much?”

You nodded your head, once more, voice squeaking out a ‘yes’ as you felt his fingers resume a faster pace - swirling your bundle of nerves before slipping into your wet heat; your own hand coming down to grasp his forearm over the sudden intensity.

“That feels good, baby? You like my fingers?” Sero hummed, lips grazing your ear as he leaned closer to you, gazing down to watch his fingers go in and out of your drenched hole.

“God yes, Hanta!” You couldn’t help but cry out, throwing your head back, as you felt his fingers curl; stroking that sweet spot within your gummy walls that you made you see stars.

“Yeah you do,” He groaned, feeling your slick drip down his wrist as he repeated the motion “you wanted this, didn’t you? That’s why you wore that cute little skirt, huh?”

Sero watched you nod your head, though the blissed-out look on your face made him question if you even heard what he said as your hips began to wiggle, legs shaking as you neared your release.

“Can feel you twitching around my fingers, pretty girl, you gonna cum for me?” He asked, as his free hand pushed down your squirming hips “Hey, hey, don’t whine! I’ll give you what you want, promise”

His swollen lips brushed against your collarbone, a subtle gesture to prove he meant what he said - that he wasn’t going to tease you or stop you from going over the edge; his thumb twisting up to rub at your clit to help ease you over the edge you were climbing.

“That’s it, cum for me, god you sound so pretty, keep twitching for me.” He groaned, fingers working frantically as your cries grew higher in pitch.

Everything went white for a moment, an end to the mounting pleasure he was giving you, the world was forgotten for a brief moment as you succumbed to the pleasure; your back arched almost painfully as your legs clamped around his wrist; your entire form shaking from the intensity as eyes rolled back into your skull. The only thing that kept you in the realm was his deep voice cooing down at you as you felt your juices run down your thighs and stick to the surface of his leather chair.

“There she is…” He mumbled, lips kissing all over your face and chest to slowly help ease you back down “Slowly, that’s it, you did so good for me…”

“Hanta, s’too much!” You whined, bucking your hips away from his still-moving fingers; ones that were still slowly stroking your soaking cunt; hissing when he finally took them out.

“Sorry, sorry,” He chuckled, hands returning to stroke your thighs and hips as he gazed down at you “You certainly know how to stroke a man’s ego, huh? Never had a girl do that from my touch.”

You groaned one that turned into a giggle, as your hands came up to your face to hide from another wave of heated embarrassment “Well, to be fair, never had a guy touch me like that. Can’t blame a girl for enjoying it!”

“No I can’t, glad you liked it so much, baby” He murmured, pulling your hands from your face to kiss you once more, murmuring sweet nothing to you between each small kiss as his hands wandered again, up and down your body, smiling into the kiss when he felt your hands do the same.

“A-ah!” Sero moaned, unable to stop his hips from bucking to your small hand that started to stroke at the large bulge in his pants; another one choking out, ending in a whimper, when you applied more pressure.

“Can I return the favour?” You asked, voice sounding so saccharine and confident that it made his head spin at the total 180 you just pulled with your demeanor.

“N-no,” He whimpered out, hand grasping at your wrist - just as yours did before - to stop you from continuing your sinful motions.

“Why not?” You whined, the pout you gave almost made him regret his choice, “Wanna make you feel good…”

“I know you do, but I won’t be able to last long if you keep that up” He reasoned, clasping your hands in his to bring them away from his twitching, aching cock.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“God, you’re too much…” He mumbled, head shaking in amusement as he cleared his throat, trying his best not to let you get the best of him as he watched you squirm.

Your pout was still prevalent on your swollen lips as you gazed up at him, calling out to him once more in that saccharine sweet voice “But I wanna make you cum.”

Sero couldn’t help but groan again, head turning away from you as he thought of anything else at that moment - things that made him cringe in his past - to try and stop himself from creaming in his pants like a teenager. With his voice strained, hoarse with effort, as he instructed you to lay back.

You do as you are told, heat in your belly igniting once more when you hear the clinking of his belt unbuckling; bending your legs up, to get betting frictions on your tingling nub, as you waited as patiently as you could for his return.

The chair groaned, squeaking slightly, at the added weight Sero provided, as he situated himself between your legs once more. You gasped, one that turned into a moan, when you felt his cock head tap at your entrance; his hard length sliding up and down your slit - teasing you as he coats himself in your juices.

“Hanta…!” You groan out, hips bucking to try and slip him inside; groaning once more in frustration when you feel his hands pin your hips down once more “Hurry up!”

“So impatient, naughty, naughty, naughty ” He clicks his tongue at you, chuckling at the frustrated glance you cast his way “Just give me a second, don’t wanna hurt you after all”

You huff, brows furrowing further as acquiesced; knowing thing it was for the better to have him take things slow - but the burning in your core was making it difficult for you to have a clear and level head; wanting nothing more to feel him fill you up.

After another agonizing minute, you slowly feel him sink into your heat; feeling his fat cock stretch you out so agonizingly slow that it makes you throw your head back and moan; mouth agape as you feel every inch bury itself deeper into your core.

“God, you’re tight!” Sero hisses, body taut as he holds himself above you as he continued pushing into you “Already milking me, baby, damn!”

You both groan when he finally bottoms out, breathing labored as they mingle together in-between tiny kisses as you both try to adjust; legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him down to you, as he begins his slowly thrusting into you.

His thrusts were almost teasing with how slowly he was moving, dragging his cock out languidly from your gummy walls before slowly returning back into your warmth - but they were precise, with each thrust hitting every sweet spot you had; making your eyes cross as you fell into the throws of pleasure over his slow lovemaking.

Over time though, Sero could not keep up the unhurried pace; what was once a tactic to ensure that he didn’t cum too early, to properly worship you and your perfect body, was now not enough - his body needed more. His lips attached to yours, kisses muffling the sweet moans that you were making as he slowly picks up his pace; thrusts turning sloppy and hurried, a fair cry from before, as Sero now becomes unable to hold off his own pleasure; frantically trying to chase his release.

The sloppy, wet, noises of your pussy could be heard over your constant moans, over the sound of his skin slapping against yours, and it was becoming overwhelming - his thumb joining his frenzied hips as he rubbed at your clit; trying desperately to get you up and over that edge before him, to feel your walls flutter and clasp his weeping cock as it did his fingers before he spilled into you.

But he failed, your wanton moans as they called out his name, and the sharp sting of your nails and they dug into his back pushed him too far; quickly pulling out with a choked wail he came; spilling his hot seed all over your thighs and stomach.

“I-I’m sorry” he gasped, trying to regain his breath - body, and cock, still twitching over the intensity of his organism; leaving you for a brief moment to get a clean rag from his equipment table to clean you up.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked, voice still raspy and sore, as you watched him methodically clean you up.

“Well, you know, about getting you all messy. And…. yeah…” He mumbled, shrugging his shoulders, too embarrassed to look at you or saw the real reason he apologized.

It made you smile, though you did your best to contain the giggles that threaten to pass your lips as you watched him. Sitting up, you pushed the hand that was cleaning you away, pulling him back down into you for a kiss.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind getting messy. Part of the fun, right?” You giggled, nudging your nose with his trying to lighten the mood; effectively making a small smile tug at his lips as he returned your kiss.

“Besides…” you whispered, hands coming down to teasingly stroke his chest “My place isn’t too far from here. If you wanted, you could spend all night making it up to me”

“Aren’t you a naughty girl,” Sero smirked, hands grabbing the meat under your thighs as he picked you up from his chair; moving your legs to wrap around his hips to keep you upright and in place “But, I think my place is closer.”

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xxsabitoxx · 6 months

Text

Pale Blue Part 2 TEASER

Geto Suguru x Pregnant Reader

Warnings: this fic IS CANON COMPLIANT, if you have not caught up to the "gojo's past" arc in the manga or anime, you will be spoiled. This teaser does not contain anything more than kissing and suggestive moments between reader and suguru

Flashback~

“Did you really mean what you said last week?” You set your pen down, looking across your room to see Suguru sitting at your desk. You were both working on different assignments but still wanted to spend time together. “Hmm?” Suguru set his own pen down, turning his body to look at you where you sat on your own bed. “About… ya know… wanting to get me pregnant.” You watched a shy smile pass over Suguru’s face as he sighed. “Yeah… I meant it.” He started softly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. You had to chuckle at the fact that Suguru had stuffed an extra pen through his bun, just in case the other died while writing. “I guess you could say I have baby fever.”

“Baby fever, huh?” you teased, putting your notebook to the side as you did. “Yeah, baby fever. I just… fuck I don’t know it’s been a thought on my mind for a while now. I keep seeing these happy families, their small children giggling and playing and… I started daydreaming about what it would be like to be a father. When I envisioned our baby, fuck my heart just melted.” he sighed, face turning a little red before he continued on. “I started thinking about how cute you’d look pregnant, how cute you’d be as a mom. How sweet it would be to hear their little voice calling you mama.” Your lips parted, completely entranced by the world he was painting you.

“Suguru.” you stated rather bluntly, smiling as his head shot up to look at you. At some point in his rambling, he had begun staring into space, as if envisioning the things he talked about. “Y-yeah?” You laugh softly, crawling off your bed and crossing the small space until you stand before him. “Come here.” You smile, hands gently cupping his cheeks and forcing his head to look up at you. “ I love you so much.” You started softly, thumb gingerly brushing along the plains of his cheekbone. Suguru swallowed, brown eyes observing every inch of your face. “I love you too.” He breathed, subconsciously leaning into your touch. “If you’re serious, if you truly want a baby…”

“I do.”

Your lips parted before you smiled brightly, giggling a bit at his instant reassurance. “... then I am more than willing to try and conceive.” You hadn’t intended for it to come out so seductive, but the way Suguru’s breathing hitched told you it had a dual effect. “Really?” You nodded, thumb still gently caressing his cheeks. “I know we’re young and all, but I think there is no time better than the present to chase your dreams.” You snorted at your own cheesiness, laughing as Suguru’s arms came around your waist to hug you tightly. “Thank you.” his voice was soft, just above a whisper. “You know, I have to ask, Suguru… especially since you seemed to put a ton of thought into this.”

“Yeah? Anything. Ask away.” You reached up and tugged the pen out of his bun, fingers moving to delicately pull his hair out of the bun itself. You always enjoyed it when he had his hair down. “What was the moment that made you realize it was more than just a desire, that it was something you actually wanted. I know you said you saw families and all that but… you’re a man of purpose. Something in particular egged you on and I’m dying to know what.” From the way his cheeks turned red, you knew you had hit the nail on the head. He wasn’t lying about the baby fever, but you knew him too well to know that it wasn’t just an accumulation of events.

One thing in particular had been his “breaking point” of sorts.

“Alright you caught me.” he sighed deeply, eyes glancing away from you before looking up again. “Remember that weekend I went home to visit family?” You nodded, hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders. Suguru’s arms opened, allowing you to climb onto his lap as he spoke. “Well, my cousin had just had her baby a few weeks prior. Since she knew I was coming home to visit for the weekend, she came over with her new baby to introduce us.” You nodded again, humming thoughtfully as you twirled some of his hair around your fingers. “I don’t think I’ve ever held a baby before.” He added, cheeks a rosy pink instead of flaming red.

“And when she put that little baby in my arms I… fuck I just melted.”

He swallowed, finding it endearing that you were so invested in every word he spoke. “I just remember thinking that… there was nothing more special than that bond. The bond between mother and child… between father and child. I found myself imagining what it would be like to hold my own newborn… and I was serious when I said every time I envisioned it, they always looked like you.” He relaxed a bit when you leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek before pulling away again. “That’s a beautiful reason, you know.” You hugged him after saying it, letting your chin rest on his shoulders as his arms encompassed your waist and squeezed.

“I want to be a dad, I’ve known that from the very moment I held that baby. But I… if you aren’t ready… I don’t want to force you to do anything.” The vulnerability in his voice made your heart squeeze, it was very rare that Suguru was openly shy about something. “No time better than the present, ya know.” You whispered it again, feeling his breath stutter as you spoke. “Really?” he breathed out again, as if in disbelief that you were saying yes despite already agreeing once before. You nod, trying to contain your smile. “It’s not like it’ll happen right away, it takes time. Most couples have to try for a while before they strike gold.”

“I guess that is true, there are a lot of factors that go into this… it’s a miracle that women are even able to conceive in the first place when you truly look at it.” you felt yourself giggling, finding it cute that Suguru had clearly put some research into this whole idea too. He wanted it, so bad, you couldn’t bear the thought of not trying to give it to him. “So… what do you say, shall we start now?” you pulled away from his hug, grinning deviously at him. “Right now?” Suguru looked shocked, eyes wide and lips slightly parted before he was able to collect his thoughts. “Yeah, right now.” studies could wait, of course they could. Suguru knew that just as well as you did.

Suguru answered you with a kiss, lips melting against your own as his hands clung to your waist.

#wire dividers are from @benkeibear #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #geto suguru #geto suguru smut #geto suguru imagines #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #suguru x reader #suguru imagine #jjk suguru #jjk imagines #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #suguru geto #suguru smut

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anjaelle · 1 year

Note

Hii I’m in loveeee with your writing I was wondering if you could write a Dave Lizewski x bimbo reader fic?

Oooh this sounds fun. I had to ruminate on this a bit, but I think I got it.

Pairing: College!Dave Lizewski x Bimbo!Reader

Rating: She's tame

Word Count: 1.3K

He was staring again. Every time you turned to look at him, he would quickly avert his eyes to the front of the room. In confusion, you turned to look behind you, only to see the blank wall of the classroom. You looked back at him and found him staring straight ahead like he'd been caught doing something bad.

You pulled your phone out of your bag and opened the front facing camera to check to see if you forgot to properly blend your makeup again. Or maybe you had crumbs on your face.

It didn't look like you had anything on your face. Though you did think you could use a re-up on gloss, and maybe a touch-up on your brows. You accidentally left your makeup bag in your dorm, and you kept losing all of your backup purse makeup, so all you had was a lip balm and school stuff. You supposed that you could use this as an excuse to do a quick drugstore run across the street to pick up another backup makeup kit. But you also felt like you'd be missing out on the sushi buffet in the dining hall if you got there too late. You hadn't had sushi in a long time, it would've been a shame to miss it. Then again you could always order it from that one spot you went to with that one guy. What was his name again? Something with a "F"--

"Hello?" The professor said, addressing you and pulling you out of your thoughts. You raised your brows in surprise, and smiled sweetly.

"Hi!"

Your professor tapped her chin with a beautifully manicured nail and looked you over with a funny look on her face. "Your presentation topic for next week?"

"Oh!" You said, looking down at your notes. "Well, I might talk a little about how hard influencing is and how it's actually harder than a 9-5 job. I'm still deciding. What do you think, professor?"

There were a few whispers in the class as she thought hard on the question. At least that's what you thought she was doing.

"Why don't you workshop that and get back to me tomorrow?" She finally said, turning away from you and moving onto another classmate.

You pouted at yet another presentation subject being shot down and made a note in the margins of your notebook to do just that. You hated going to her office hours, because you felt like you could never really do anything right.

When class let out, you pulled your phone out to text your friends about your change of plans tomorrow, when you felt a gentle touch on your elbow and turned to find Lizewski. Knowing that he was quiet and always a little bit stuttery, you smiled politely and gave him your full attention.

"Hi, how are you?"

"H-Hey," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Uh...I saw that you've been having a bit of a hard time with our media class."

A few people passed by the two of you in the hallway and greeted you but shot a curious look his way.

"It's so bad isn't it?" You frowned, crossing your arms in front of your chest, "I'm literally so great at most Social Media outlets, I don't understand why this is so hard. I mean...it's all the same shit."

He nodded, wide eyed and eager as always, "You're so right."

"And I'm trying really hard, but I just can't get it."

"I can help!" He blurted out. "Only if you want. I mean, you probably don't need my help. But I'd be happy to, if you want."

"You'd help me?" You asked, genuinely touched. "I don't know if I can pay you much, but how much do you want?"

"You don't have to pay me, come on." He dropped his eyes to his sneakers and shifted his weight on his feet, "We've known each other since middle school."

This time your eyes widened in surprise, "We have?"

This time it was his turn to look at you in surprise and confusion, "You went to my Bar Mitzvah."

"I did?" Then you thought about it, "I only remember going to one, and it was this boy named David."

He let out a short laugh and nodded, "Yes, that was me."

"David?! But everyone calls you Lizewski! That's your last name?" He nodded again and you gasped. Your whole world turned upside down. Without thinking you pulled him into a tight hug, "It's so nice to see you again, David! I thought you moved away in high school!"

"No," he said against your shoulder, "I just grew my hair out. And got taller. And you can call me Dave, or David, or Lisewski. Whatever you want."

You pulled away from the hug with a huge grin, and you reached out to readjust his glasses which sat crookedly on his face. Then you looked him over, trying to see the skinny thirteen year old you remembered in the grown man in front of you. You could almost see it. If he cut his hair shorter, and lost about a foot of height, he'd totally look the same. You grasped his shoulders in appreciation.

"Well this is wonderful! I've never had a friend for longer than 3 years before!"

As you walked side by side across campus, you could feel people staring like you had three heads. After the fourth set of eyes on you, you nudged Dave with your elbow.

"Do I have something on my face?" You tilted your head from side to side so he could examine you properly, and he shook his head.

"No, why?"

"People keep staring at me." You frowned, "It's kind of weird."

Dave said nothing at first, but looked around to see the evidence of your suspicion and sighed. "I think it's because you're hanging out with me."

You snorted, "That can't be it. That's so silly."

He kicked a small rock down the footpath and hummed in disagreement, "Is it? I mean...you're you. I'm me. We don't really hang out. I think people are used to seeing you with guys from...Sigma Alpha Epsilon"

You still didn't get it, and you crinkled your nose in disgust at the mention of the name.

"I don't talk to them. They're losers," you shuddered again, "They all have a weird obsession with skulls too. Have you ever seen those skulls with the blue stripe down the middle? They all have them on their trucks. It's so weird."

You watched him raise a single brow as he kicked the rock further down the path, "Are you talking about The Punisher's symbol?"

Before you could ask, he showed you a picture on his phone and you nodded.

"Yeah that's it! What's The Punisher? Is that, like, a band?"

He chuckled, "It's a comic book character and his symbol gets misused a lot. He's a vigilante."

You frowned, thinking of why someone would choose to do something like that. That seemed kind of mean.

"Well can you really see me hanging out with a bunch of guys who like vigilantes?"

For some reason, Dave's step seemed to falter, and he peered at you curiously, "Oh. Are you--do you think vigilantes are bad?"

There was a hint of poorly disguised panic in his voice.

You were confused about why he was confused. The answer was obvious.

"Vigils are a good thing," you said, matter-of-factly. You were surprised that you had to break this down to someone as smart as him. "Sometimes people have vigils for their dead grandmas and their pets, and stuff. Someone who's anti-vigils is obviously not a good person."

Dave gave you a long, strange look and laughed. Like, actually laughed. You didn't understand what was so funny about being pro-vigils. You felt like that wasn't exactly a controversial opinion. Were you on the wrong side of history this whole time? Were vigils actually bad?

"Are they bad for the environment or something? Like, the candles?" You squinted at him. He rushed to ease your worries with an extended hand.

"No! No, it's--vigilantes aren't people who are anti-vigils. They beat up bad people."

Oh.

"What a weird name to have for that," You admitted rolling the word over in your brain. Then you brightened at the memory of something, "Hey there was a guy back home that was like that! Kick-Ass! Do you remember him?"

He said nothing for a moment, but shrugged in response.

"Yeah, kinda."

"All the girls in our grade were obsessed with him," you continued, fishing through your bag for your dorm key. "At first, we thought it was that one weird guy who used to try and sell us coke from the trunk of his car down the street from our school. But one girl said that he saved her dad from getting jumped, and he was apparently, like, young. At least college aged."

"Ha," Dave simply said, "Maybe. I kind of remember people thinking it was someone from our school, though. Someone most people wouldn't even really expect, because it'd be super hard to keep a low profile. Someone who's probably super strong and really cool, even though most people don't know it."

You suddenly giggled, "What if it was that guy Todd Haynes?"

Dave stumbled over his own feet and shot his hand out to steady himself.

"You know who Todd Haynes is?"

"Yeah, I know him. He was in my gym class!"

"He's my best friend, I've known him my whole life. I'm--shocked that you know him." You brightened at the new information.

"I didn't know Todd had friends! You sure are full of surprises today." He stared at you again. For a super long time. You weren't sure what was going on in his brain. You touched your cheek, "Again with the staring. I think you're lying. I definitely have something on my face."

#dave lizewski #dave lizewski x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson #jaelle writes

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my-love-is-sunlight · 18 days

Text

Love recipe

Sanji x gardener!reader

fluff!!!!!!!! Stablished relationship, gn reader, from my gardener!reader series but can be read as a stand alone, I recommend this

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: In which you find Sanji’s cook notebook

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

An endless sea of boxes filled your room in the Sunny, when had you accumulated so much stuff in your time with the strawhats? You didn’t know

You were the kind to keep everything, even the tiniest things held so much memories and meaning that you just couldn’t leave them behind

But you were starting to regret it

A week ago you and Sanji had finally decided to tell the crew that you were dating

After being met with all of your crewmates groans of defeat as they handed a couple berries to Nami you realized maybe you were a little more obvious than you thought

Regardless they were happy and a little relieved that you two had finally settled down

“So is the dumb cook finally moving out? We are tired of you leaving every night to our quarters,” Zoro was quick to ask you looking dead in your bashful eyes, red blush rushing to your face

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” Sanji screamed at the swordsman in your defense

As much as you tried to brush the matter off or deny the accusations everyone had witnessed how at very ungodly hours of the night you’d slip into Sanjis bed to sleep soundly and turning back to your own at sunrise thinking no one noticed

“OR you can move in with us!” Your Captain chimed in but his idea was immediately shot down by your boyfriend

So he moved in your room, something you were happy about but right now, as you choose what to keep, throw away or store in boxes to make space for Sanji, was giving you a huge headache.

You sat cross legged in the middle of your floor between boxes looking like cat in hiding as Sanji walked in with a couple of more boxes in hand, settling them on the ground glancing at your form and smiling in endearment

“Almost done my love” he spoke up making you bend backwards and smiling at him

“Let me get up and help you with the rest”

“Absolutely not” something about you even lifting a finger in his presence always made him shiver, there was no way he was gonna allow you carry his heavy boxes, he knew you were capable, he just didn’t wanted you to

It was the third time you had offered to help him so you just gave up and giggled before returning to your task as the blonde went back to make yet another trip from the boys quarters to your room

You let out a defeated sigh as you finally finished up choosing everything that you decided to get rid off. As you got up with the box you tripped over the others that surrounded you making you lose balance, in an attempt to save yourself from a nasty fall, one of Sanjis boxes opened and some of his belongings scattered across the floor

“Dammit” carefully you place your box aside as you hastily take your boyfriend’s personal stuff and return them into the box, not wanting Sanji to think you were snooping round his personal belongings

As you delicately put his box aside, a notebook lays on the ground that you seemed to have missed to put away, you take it but instead of storing it, your hands explore the markings on the cover

‘Sanjis cookbook’ it read in his neat handwriting, you smile to yourself before slowly opening it, the notebook was well loved and you didn’t wanted it to break apart at your touch. The pages were filled with different recipes the cook had came up with during the years, it was sweet how noticeable was the change in his notes when he joined the strawhats, suddenly more intricate and lively dishes appearing on its pages. It was obvious how much he enjoyed being the crews cook, this was a trait of him you always had loved and admired. The cook had created dishes, drinks and pastries inspired by every crew member, some just being fun experimental ones, while others attended to their nutritional needs

Some really tasty meat recipes made for Luffy

An orangy strong drink for Nami

Boring rice-balls with a hint of sake for Zoro

Coffee infused pastries for Robin

Chicken a lá Soda for Franky

Taroyaki for Usopp

Sweet cotton candy for Chopper

Curry for Brook

Some of them with your name on it eventually show up but were all about either your diet or changing some ingredients up in meals you didn’t quite like or would upset your stomach, even your favorite vegetable soup was in there with a marking on it with your name. Expectancy bubbled in your stomach as you waited for dishes made not for you, but inspired by you to appear, but as you kept on reading the pages of everyone’s meals except yours a frown plastered on your lips

“Oh” you thought, maybe you weren’t good enough to be Sanji’s muse. Of course you knew he loved you endlessly, he would assure you everyday and you’ll see it in different ways he had to tell you ‘I love you’ without even speaking it.

The way he would patiently show you how to cut ingredients in the kitchen so you could help him and spend quality time, or the names he’d call you that sweetened your days, how he would always be on your call and foot for whatever you wished or needed, the dreamy look you’d spark on his eyes and even just the full on attention he’d offer you, as if you were the only thing in the world

But still, one would think you’ll at least have one dish dedicated to you after all the love he exuded in your presence

As you gave up and started to close the notebook, you saw a page near the end with your name on it, making your eyes grow wide in joy. You open it to find not a dish, but a whole different section of the notebook just for you, the cook had even drawn tiny hearts after your name

Pink dusted your face and a bright smile grew on your lips as you admired the dishes Sanji had crafted with such love and dedication, recognizing some of them and even remembering how he had asked you to taste test them in the past. You were moved, over the moon wasn’t enough of an expression to understand how you were feeling, no one had ever shown this much appreciation for you, small tears peaked at the corner of your eyes of the fullness you felt. How could you ever return such a gesture? Such love declaration that you didn’t even were supposed to know about?

You return the notebook to its rightful place before standing back on your feet and taking your box towards the door that slowly opened revealing your tall blonde handsome of a boyfriend with the last box

“Sorry it took so long sunlight, Luffy asked me for another snack and I ha-“ he was cut off by the biggest warmest hug he had ever received in his life, dropping the box as your hands found a spot on his neck and your lips pecked his before hiding your face in his neck, your feet tip toeing so you could reach

The action took Sanji by surprise, making him blush and stand frozen in place at your sudden affection that he still found difficult to come around, always being used to be the more affectionate one until you showed up and made him know how much loved he deserved back

“Is everything alright my love?”

“Yes darling, everything’s amazing”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Omg they’re back I’m so happy!!!! Hope you enjoy and remember you can request anything you wanna see about these two or just anything One Piece related technically

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roosterforme · 3 months

Text

Adult Education Part 21 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jake works to secure his future with Jessica while also being supportive of her. She is dreading Brian's return to work, but she recognizes that she finally has the friends she deserves.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, language, 18+

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jessica had never been hungover during the week before, but all the celebratory champagne and rough sex had definitely gone to her head a little bit. She groaned when she felt Jake's hand on her shoulder. "Baby, you have to get up," he said, voice hoarse next to her ear. "We have to go to work."

"Oh, god," she groaned, rolling over away from him. "No."

"You have to," he repeated. "It's your first day with tenure, Reedy. You have to go."

A smile spread across her lips in spite of her headache, and she whispered, "Tenure. I have tenure."

"You sure do," Jake drawled softly, and she finally opened her eyes to see him grinning at her. "If you get up now, I'll make you breakfast."

Her stomach growled so loudly they both laughed, and then she pouted playfully. "But I don't have a waffle iron."

He kissed her forehead. "No. But I do. And you told me you weren't going to renew your lease."

"I'm not," she whispered as her heart swelled with happiness.

"Well, soon enough you'll have daily access to waffles," he whispered, kissing her just below her ear. "I guess I better start cleaning out my closet to make room for your lingerie collection."

Now she wanted to move in with him as soon as possible. She could already picture herself organizing all of her pretty pieces in his nice closet while modeling a few of them for him. She still had some things he'd never seen her in, and it was going to be so much fun to tease him.

"Get up," he said, patting her butt as he climbed out of bed. "I'll make some eggs."

Jessica went through her morning routine only after taking some Advil, and she had to drink two mugs of coffee before she really felt human. She also left her apartment a good fifteen minutes after than she usually did. "You'll be late," she fretted, running toward her car which was parked next to Jake's truck. "You'll get in trouble."

"Nah," he replied, "Bradshaw will cover for me." He kissed Jessica as she tried to push him toward his truck, stumbling in her high heels.

"Go to work. Goodbye. I love you," she said quickly. "I'll see you tonight!"

"See you tonight, tenured Dr. Reed," he called out as she climbed into her car and started the engine.

Jessica barely had time to get to her office before she had to grab her notebooks and head back downstairs to give her first lecture of the day. But it felt so damn good to stand there in front of her students. Dr. Rosenthal wouldn't be stopping in, because he didn't need to. Because she had tenure. And now that her headache was virtually gone and the breakfast that Jake made was sitting nicely in her belly, she kind of felt like screaming about it from the rooftops.

But she settled for screaming about it at lunchtime when she grabbed the little container of food Jake made and took it over to the math building. After one knock on her friend's office door, it swung open revealing a bright smile. Jessica screeched quietly and hugged her.

"I have tenure," she whispered.

"Well, obviously," Advanced Calculus replied. "There was never any doubt in my mind."

Jessica set her lunch down on the desk while her friend closed the door. "I can't thank you enough for everything you did for me. Helping me set everything up with Rosenthal and giving up so much of your free time and everything," she gushed. "Just... thank you. And I hope you had a nice time at the library with Bradley."

She snorted in response as she opened her tie dye lunchbox. "Bradley had a great time at the library, as per usual. And once again, I don't think you appreciate how very much I want to see Brian go down like a sinking ship. In fact, I volunteered for another special project."

"What kind of project?" Jessica asked as she watched her friend dip a carrot stick into some hummus.

"I can't talk about it quite yet. I have another meeting with Dean Walters in an hour, but I think it's a project that you'll fully support." Then she bit into the carrot like a woman who was in complete control of her surroundings, and Jessica couldn't think of a single reason why she couldn't be the same way.

"If you think I'll appreciate your new project, then I can't wait to hear about it later," she said, taking a bite of the delicious food Jake made for her.

"I'll tell you all about it as soon as I can."

After lunch, Jessica took some time to gather her scattered notes to teach Brian's senior studies class for the last time. She learned as much about chemistry from the students as they had from her, and after she worked a few problems out on the board with them, she asked, "If you have any other questions for me, please let me know now. This is the last time I'll be covering this class."

"What do you mean?" one of the students asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"Dr. Conley will be back for class next week," she explained, and then she heard an outraged sigh followed by some muttering. "It'll be okay though," she said in a tone she hoped was reassuring. "You've all been doing so well, and you're so close to graduation now!"

"But Dr. Conley doesn't even show up to class."

"He doesn't help us with anything."

"Is there any way you can stay until the end of the semester?"

"What about the practice problems you give us?"

The sudden influx of comments and questions made Jessica feel better and also so much worse at the same time. She let them all get their concerns out of their system before she said, "My office hours are always available for you. And you can still email me if you want to. I can even try to make more practice problems, but honestly, all of you are much better at chemistry than I am. Maybe you can run the class yourselves if Dr. Conley isn't here?"

She hated Brian. She actually still hated him. But more so for these students now than on her own behalf. They all looked concerned and apprehensive, and she spent another ten minutes talking to them until they were calm enough to head to their next class. She wished she could finish teaching them for the rest of the semester, and she decided she would ask Dean Walters if there was any chance she could teach her own senior studies class for physics majors next school year.

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

Jake was already home and showered with dinner in the oven, eating some chips on the couch while he waited for Jessica. He was keeping a running tally of things he still needed to give her since he'd already willingly handed over his heart. His spare key was sitting next to his feet which were propped up on the coffee table. He had already cleaned out half of his closet and consolidated his stuff to make some room. And he wanted to pay for the flights to Massachusetts and Texas for her once she approved the dates.

When his phone lit up with a text letting him know she was here, he ran down to her car in just his sweatpants and slippers with his spare key ring looped around his finger. "Did you have a good day?" he asked, taking her overnight bag from her hand as she locked her car.

"I did," she replied quietly. "I left so late, because I talked to the dean about teaching my own senior studies class next term."

"And?"

She smiled as they walked to his condo. "He said it's a good possibility now that I have tenure."

"There's nothing you can't do." Jake kissed her and pressed the key ring into her hand.

"What's this?" she asked, looking at it as she stood outside the front door. "Oh!" She slipped it into the lock and let them both inside as she blushed. "You want me to have it now? Even though I'm not moving in quite yet?"

"Please," he replied as he walked inside, his eyes catching on the print of his jet that she gave him for his birthday. "You can come and go as you want, but I hope you'll be here more often than not."

Jake watched as she took her keys out again and added his ring to them. "Thank you." She was fiddling with them a little bit when she looked up at him as she stepped out of her high heels. "Brian will be back tomorrow," she said softly. "That's what Dr. Rosenthal told me when I ran into him. And if he doesn't know I have tenure by now, he'll find out soon enough."

Jake collected her in his arms. "He can't do anything about it now, Reedy. It's a done deal. And unless you fuck up spectacularly at work, which you definitely won't, he's not entitled to say anything about it."

She nodded against him. "I know that. I do know that, but I still don't want to have to see him and hear his stupid, condescending voice complain about me."

He pressed his nose to her hair and kissed her before he whispered, "You wear your tenure like a shield. And if he can't figure out how to shut his mouth, you let me know, and I'll be there in an instant."

Jessica shivered in his arms. "That shouldn't sound as sexy as it does. You know..." she mused, "none of this would have happened if you hadn't punched Brian in the face the first time. So I guess I really have you to thank."

"How so?" Jake asked as he led her to the kitchen where the oven timer was going off.

"You punched Brian, and then his wife saw his messed up face. And then she came to campus looking for answers and found him with the teaching assistant. And then he took a leave of absence." When Jake set down the baking dish and glanced over his shoulder, she was smiling brightly. "Jake, you literally saved my career with your fist!"

He shrugged and shook off his oven mitts. "All I did was punch someone who was trying to intimidate my girlfriend. I'll do it again if I have to. Now, would you like some parmesan cheese sprinkled on top of your dinner?" he asked as he cut into the casserole. He ended up with Jessica in his arms.

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

Jessica heard the whispers all day on Thursday. If Dr. Rosenthal hadn't told her that Brian was coming back, she would have chalked it up to everyone at the university being addicted to their daily gossip, but she half expected to see him lurking around every corner. She kind of wanted to go right to Brian's office, knock on the door and tell him that she got tenure just to get it over with. But when she thought about seeing his face, she shook her head in disgust.

She hadn't heard much from Jake all day, and Advanced Calculus was scarce as well. But when she went to the lounge to make a sad cup of coffee before her office hours started, the teaching assistant that Brian had been sleeping with was in there along with another one that Jessica wasn't familiar with. They must not have seen her at first as they were clearly talking about Brian.

"He looks terrible, honestly. Like he hasn't slept. I'm sure he's going to ask me if I want to mess around again, especially since his wife left."

"I don't know. I heard he's actually pretty upset that she took the kids. But I really want to know who broke his nose in the first place."

Jessica considered sneaking back out of the room, but it was too late. They had seen her, and they both snapped their mouths closed. Had Sabrina Conley really taken their kids? Was she gone for good? Jessica thought she'd probably be better off without her husband. She also wanted to ask the TA if she knew Brian was married when they were messing around before, but it was really none of her business.

"Hi," she greeted evenly, strolling toward the coffee maker. The only sound in the small room was her high heels tapping against the floor as she walked. But neither of them said a word in response before they turned and left. Maybe they were embarrassed about being caught talking about Brian, or maybe Jessica still had a bad reputation in the science department. Either way, she was going to take her coffee upstairs and wait for Luca to stop by before spending the night cuddled up with Jake.

When she finished stirring her drink and turned toward the door, she almost spilled her coffee all over herself. "Brian," she gasped, taking an awkward step backwards so her hip hit the edge of the counter a bit painfully. He looked so angry, she immediately felt like her heart was going to explode out of her chest as her nerves took over.

"Call me Dr. Conley," he snapped, and she could feel her face flushing with embarrassment as she stood there silently.

Jessica's hands shook as she tried to walk to the door, but he didn't budge from his spot blocking her exit path. "Excuse me," she said, trying her best to sound stronger than she felt.

"I don't even want to know how badly your lesson plans have gone off course over the past few weeks," he practically growled. "You're going to need to schedule a meeting with me to go over everything. The sooner the better."

"No."

Brian looked surprised by her response. "Yes," he replied with a sarcastic laugh. "I know you think you really did something special by getting that asshole to punch me in the face, but your days here are fucking numbered. Understand?"

"No," Jessica repeated as Jake's voice in her mind kept telling her to wear her tenure like a shield. Plus, she could clearly picture the paperwork she signed with Dr. Rosenthal since she read over it a dozen times. "I don't have to answer to you about my curriculum choices any longer."

He laughed. "Okay, so now you're unreliable, slutty, and stupid?"

"I have tenure," she said firmly, gripping the coffee a little tighter while his eyes bugged out in anger.

He shook his head. "You can't get tenure unless you get it through me," he snarled.

Jessica looked at his crooked nose and miserable expression, and if she wasn't on the verge of tears, she might have laughed. "You can ask Dean Walters for a copy of my signed paperwork. And if you have concerns about my curriculum, then you can take it up with him." She tried to duck past him through the doorway, certain her resolve was almost gone now.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Brian demanded loudly, and she jumped back. "Explain yourself right fucking now."

"Dr. Conley!" came a familiar voice from the hallway, and then Dr. Rosenthal was poking his head in the lounge door. "You shouldn't be raising your voice like that to Dr. Reed, especially since you're on probation."

"Probation?" Jessica whispered, and Brian's face soured further.

"Mind your own business, Rosenthal," he snapped, and under his breath he added, "you should have retired a decade ago."

"Yes. Probation," came another familiar voice as Advanced Calculus strolled in with a notebook in her hand like she hadn't a care in the world. She stopped right in front of Brian with her back to Jessica, acting almost like a buffer. "He's in a lot of trouble," she said in a voice that bordered on teasing, and Brian's face grew pink.

"What do you mean?" Jessica whispered, and the other woman smirked at her over her shoulder.

"He's on probation for a history of behavioral issues, and I volunteered to be his probation officer of sorts," she replied before turning back toward Brian. "Don't forget, Dean Walters asked to check in with me on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And I'll be dropping by your classes to make sure you actually show up to them. Oh, and I'll have to add to my report that you raised your voice to a professor with tenure while she was just trying to make a cup of coffee." She tapped her notebook. "It's not looking good, Brian."

Jessica watched Dr. Rosenthal shuffle away after he cleared his throat, and Brian spun on his heel to follow suit. "Is this for real?" Jessica asked, looking around the room to try and tell if she was in a dream.

"Yep. He's my new volunteer project. I think Dean Walters could just tell that I have a lot of experience taming fuckboys. But Brian takes the cake, let me tell you. He's been skipping out on his classes to meet up with different women."

Jessica adjusted her glasses and looked at the floor as she whispered, "I never missed my classes when he and I were...."

"Of course not," she said blandly. "That's why you were given tenure instead of being put on probation. You actually do your job. He doesn't. Now, I was thinking about Chippy's tomorrow night? Kind of a celebration?"

Jessica just blinked at her. "A celebration for what?"

"You! A tenure party! Fratraiser part deux as Bradley has been calling it. You know what, I'll take care of the whole thing. Don't even stress about it."

Jessica had been planning on spending the weekend cleaning out her apartment before she started to move a few things to Jake's place. But going out for a bit could be fun. She had more friends in San Diego now than she ever dreamed she would. "What were you thinking? Like a double date?"

"Something like that," she replied with a twinkle in her eye. "How about tomorrow night at eight?"

"Let me check with Jake," she said right away.

"Oh, Jake already knows."

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

"We'll just stay for a little bit and then head home again," Jessica whispered as she and Jake made their way slowly from his truck to Chippy's. He was fucking obsessed with the way she just called his condo home. He was obsessed with everything about her as he pressed her up against the side of Chippy's out on the sidewalk. She'd let him dress her for the night by turning it into a game, and he had chosen a black lace bodysuit paired with a mini skirt and denim jacket.

"I made a mistake," he whispered, voice rough with need as he let his hand slip underneath the skirt. Then he moaned, "A huge mistake."

She laughed as he bumped her glasses with his nose while he kissed her ear. "Did you?"

Jake was uncomfortably hard in his jeans. "Baby, I really want to fuck you. And your outfit is not helping," he added as he squeezed her bare thigh.

"That's your fault," she whispered with a grin while he whined. "Seriously, we'll just stay for a drink or two. It'll be like a double date. And then we can do whatever you want, okay?"

Jake took her hand in his, kissed her fingers and said, "On the way home, you're ordering those toys from that dirty website you found. I think we need all of them."

He could tell she was blushing in the darkness by the warmth of her cheeks against his lips. "Okay," she agreed softly, and Jake had to adjust himself in his jeans before they could walk inside.

"Holy shit," he gasped when a crowd of people cheered Congratulations! to his girlfriend. Bradshaw's wife didn't mention there would be this many people in attendance. He saw Bradshaw with his backwards hat and hideous tie dye shirt with his arms wrapped around his wife, but all of the other aviators were there, too. Jake spotted a much older man in a sweater vest sipping a beer, and he assumed that must have been Rosenthal. And of course someone had invited Dev.

"You okay?" Jake asked Jessica as she just stood next to him with happy tears in her eyes. She nodded and sniffed as she read the banner that was hanging above Chippy behind the bar.

CONGRATS, REEDY!

"Yeah, I'm okay," she whispered, burying herself against Jake as he wrapped his arm around her. "I'm just surprised so many people cared enough to be here."

"Don't cry, Jess!" Bradley shouted over the music and conversation as his wife headed over. "It's a happy occasion! It's not like you're in a relationship with Jake or something horrible. Oh... wait...."

Jake shot him a nasty look while he laughed hysterically, and he watched Jessica hug everyone in attendance, thanking all of them individually for coming to her party. Jake briefly wrapped his arms around her and kissed her as he asked, "You want a Sam Adams, Baby?"

"Yes," she replied, but then she added, "but I want to thank Chippy, too." And with that, Jessica walked right behind the bar and gave the grouchy bar owner a hug, and Jake saw a rare smile break out on his face. "Thank you for always welcoming me here," she told him softly while Jake leaned on the bar. "I felt safe here when I didn't really feel safe anywhere else."

Chippy patted her on the head and then started to push her away as he got a little emotional himself. "You're always welcome here, Reedy," he told her before he started to reach for some bowls to fill them with peanuts, and Jessica walked back around the bar and into Jake's arms. Chippy poured a few beers, and set them down in front of Jake as he growled, "So I guess you're sticking around then?"

"Looks that way," Jake replied, leaning down to kiss Jessica's cheek. "Until this one comes to her senses."

"I told you I wouldn't," she replied with a laugh. Then she turned to Chippy and said, "He's not so bad. And he's sweet to me."

"Then I guess he can stay," Chippy replied with a shrug, still glaring slightly.

Jake picked up two beers and led the way to a table near the others while Jessica carried the peanuts. "I think he finally tolerates me," Jake boasted.

"It only took you several months," she replied with a smirk. "Chippy didn't fall for your charms as quickly as I did."

Jake set the beers down next to the peanuts and pulled Jessica closer to him. "You made me work hard for it. Ever since the first night I met you when you brought me here for a three dollar beer."

She reached up and raked her fingers through his hair. "I had to know for sure. That you really wanted me."

Jake kissed her rough on the lips right in front of everyone. "I need you, Jessica," he promised, making her smile. "I love you."

"Okay, that's enough of that," Bradshaw's wife said, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. "I just have a few words I want to say." She looked a little emotional as she started. "Jessica, you've become one of my very best friends in just a few short months. I know that your time at San Diego State started off a little rocky for you, and I'm sincerely sorry from the bottom of my heart that I didn't take the time to get to know you last semester when you really needed a friend in your corner. You're one of the kindest and smartest people I have ever met in my life."

Jake held Jessica as she looked like she was about to cry. "I'm the one who should be saying nice things to you!" she replied, swiping at her tears behind her glasses. "You've done so much to help me."

"And you've done so much by taking Jake off our hands for us," Bradley added loudly as everyone started laughing.

"That's fair," Jake admitted with a grin as he pressed his lips to Jessica's hair.

Then Bradshaw's wife lifted her pint glass in the air, and everyone else did as well. "Congratulations on your tenure, Dr. Reed!"

The bar erupted in loud cheers, and Bradley shook up a bottle of champagne. Jake spent the rest of the night kissing the sticky sweetness from Jessica's face and making sure Dev kept his hands to himself. He made sure his girlfriend always had a Sam Adams in her hand and that her denim jacket was neatly buttoned over that bodysuit that he was dying to get his hands on.

He didn't mind sharing Jessica with everyone else for the evening, especially since she'd made such a good friend in Bradshaw's wife. But much later, when Jessica turned and looked at him while she intentionally unbuttoned her jacket, he was more than ready to get her alone.

"Take me home, Jake," she said sweetly, reaching for his hand. "I'm ready to go home."

He kissed her lips and wrapped his arms around her. "Let's get out of here, Smart Girl."

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

I hope you loved reading this as much as I have loved writing it! There will not be just one, but TWO epilogues! Stay tuned for those and pegging! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

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@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

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icallhimjoey · 2 months

Text

The Boy Is Mine (icallhimjoey's edition)

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joe has work and cancels plans but, you know what, you can just come over and help him out, can’t you? It's nerve-racking and embarrassing but, ok fine, you can come over and help him. CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, anxiety, we make fun of joe because he’s a dork, full fluff

Author’s note: i had fomo for @carolmunson’s the boy is mine writing exercise, so i just went ahead and gave it my own rpf spin. pls go and read all the other wonderful editions here!

Wordcount: 1.8K

“Okay, so, to set the scene,” Joe was being exceptionally theatrical tonight. He’d sat you down on the sofa and used the floorspace on the other side of the coffee table as his stage. It was all big arm gestures, and exaggerated faces, and big steps, and this was meant to be serious business.

It wasn’t.

You could tell Joe was a little nervous, which in turn made you a little nervous too.

You’ve had to suppress a smile ever since you walked in and couldn’t seem to stop giggling at things that usually wouldn’t even remotely tickle you, big ball of nerves.

“We’re in a trailer. Think, a big holiday park. Sort of dreary, it all looks the same, just, caravan after caravan after cara–”

“You’re talking to me like I’ve never been on holiday before.”

“Well for all I know you haven’t, Miss Workaholic. I’ve never seen you put down your work–”

You shut him up with a hit of a throw pillow to his face. Joe didn’t even flinch, just let it hit him square in the face and drop to the floor before giving you a blank stare for a second, all unimpressed.

Made you laugh. Again.

“Okay. So. Trailer park.” Joe made big eyes at you like a teacher would, directing you back to the task at hand. To why you were even there in the first place.

“Trailer park.” you repeated, sitting up a little, being a good student.

Joe frowned as his eyes had to focus on the script he was holding, turning a page and then flicking it back.

“Yes. Trailer park.” Joe confirmed absentmindedly.

He took another moment to seemingly find what he was looking for, eyes scanning before he reached up to pull his glasses from his hair. You sat pretty and waited.

Everything about the situation was objectively hilarious.

Joe had had to cancel on plans he’d made with you because of some changes in his schedule and now he had to learn lines at the speed of light meaning he couldn’t take you out for a drink. You didn’t mind – yes you did – and you’d casually said you could come over anyway. Help him out. Read lines with him.

“You’d do that?” He’d asked, carefully hopeful.

“Yea course!”

“And you’d like that?”

“As much as hanging out with you in general is a massive chore,” you’d joked. “It totally beats sitting at home by myself all night.”

And so you’d been invited over.

And now, Joe was nervous. He had just the one script, and handing it over to you meant that you’d see the little notes he’d taken. The scribbles and the arrows that pointed to more little notes, and for some parts even little sad or happy smiley faces. It would reveal a bunch of uncool shit about himself, not to mention the fact that Joe was breaking rules. None of this was meant for your eyes.

“Traiiii...” Joe was having a hard time finding what he was looking for and you started to grow impatient.

“I think we’ve got the location down.” you laughed, then suddenly your face dropped and turned faux serious. “Or, sorry, is this part of it? Of how you learn? Is that why it takes you fucking ages to–” you had to duck to the side as Joe threw the pillow you’d launched at his face earlier right back at you.

“If you don’t stop, we’re going to have a problem.”

Joe handed you the script, pointed from where you were going to read lines together, and then picked up a small notebook from the table.

He cleared his throat, gestured with a hand that meant, calm down, and then started the scene.

You read from the page, and Joe tried to do the scene from memory as much as he could, only occasionally glancing at look at his notes.

It took a few lines for you to actually calm down. To feel the jitters inside of your body slip away.

Joe was blushing still, though.

He’d never done this with you before, and he definitely felt silly, playing pretend with a pretty girl in his living room. But when you kind of started getting into it, found focus and fed him little words when he got stuck, it turned into actual acting.

You stayed seated on his sofa, eyes on the page, and Joe was all over the place. Pacing, using wild arms, facial expressions all over, repeating lines in different ways when they didn’t feel quite right after saying them the first time and... this was actually kind of fun.

And then props were introduced, but all wrong.

Joe needed to make a call, the script said, and he just grabbed the remote control of the TV as his pretend phone.

You stiffled a laugh, just about.

Then up next, he grabbed a nice crystal wine glass, held it out to you and it became more and more difficult to keep your giggles inside as you read ahead at what he was about to say.

“I ran out of nice cups, is this okay?”

You pretended you were handed something atrocious. Or, well, you tried to, at least. It was becoming very apparent who was the real actor in the room. When the script called for a bite of cake, something that would leave vanilla frosting on his face, Joe just perfectly mimed the action, and you were shocked at how you could see it.

There was nothing there.

But there was, though.

Wild.

Joe barely had to look at his own little notebook the longer you went, yet your stumbling and stuttering through lines increased as you read them aloud. It slowly shifted the anxiety from Joe over to you, and you didn’t like it one bit.

It felt silly, because Joe’s growing confidence didn’t have to mean that yours slowly withered, but, that was exactly what happened.

Joe noticed and in a bid to make you relax, he moved around the coffee table before sitting down on top of it, right in front of you.

“Here, take it back a little,” Joe folded a page back in the script that you were still holding, and pointed, his voice soft and gentle. “From here again.”

Joe had pointed at one of his own lines, so you kind of waited for him to start. But then he stayed silent, and when you flicked your eyes up at him, he was smiling.

“You’re holding the script. You lead.”

Oh. Yea, okay.

You went through the same bit of a scene again, this time with your knees touching his. Joe spoke in a much calmer voice, much lower this time around. The vibe shifted and now, it had you blushing.

Fucking adorable, Joe thought.

It made him want to grab hold of your face as you read. Press kisses all over your cheeks. The bridge of your nose. Your eyes.

There was not a chance in hell that Joe was going to actually get all his work done tonight, but if he was being honest, you’d already managed to do more than he’d expected beforehand.

You fucked up a line and went, “Wait, no... jesus,” and took a second to start over. When it was Joe’s turn to speak, he stayed silent again, and it made you look up at him, only to see him stare at you with the most lovesick grin you’d ever seen.

Disgusting. How dared he.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You knocked one of his knees with yours.

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” Joe said, not changing a single thing about the way he was staring at you.

You narrowed your eyes at him and had to try really hard to hide a smile.

“Are you... are you getting off on me not being very good at this?”

Joe laughed, said, “No, you’re amazing actually.” before he leant in a little, clearly going in for a kiss.

It had you moving back.

“Um...” you held a hand up before you jokingly scanned the page in front of you. Turned it to check the next one too. “There’s no kissing in this scene.”

“Um...” Joe copied you, and was quick to take the script from your hands, turning it around so he could get a look himself. “Yea there is, actually. Look.” Joe pointed at a random line, and before you could even get a proper look, he’d already flung it to the side and lurched forward to get his lips on yours.

You shrieked into it, trying to kiss Joe back just as much as you were trying to push him away.

Joe laughed, and so did you, and you were just pressing smiles together for a second, giggling right into Joe’s cackles. He had to hold your face in both of his hands to keep you close.

“Maybe,” you murmured around kisses, “This wasn’t the best idea. I’m clearly not helping.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. That’s not even true.”

Joe kissed you harder.

“Liar.”

“I’m not a liar.” Joe sat back and made a face. Looked like a real douchebag as he scrunched his eyebrows together and smirked. “I’m an actor.”

You laughed as Joe reached to pick up the script he’d thrown to the other side of the sofa. Folded the pages back and handed it back over to you.

“Okay. So.” he got up, clapped his hands together and walked back over to his spot in front of the TV, notebook now discarded on the sofa. He was going to try without it. “We’re in a trailer.”

You smiled at him as you watched him try his best to get back into the zone.

“Trailerpark.” you confirmed, trying your best to match Joe’s vibe.

Serious business.

You frowned as you started again, but you were quickly stopped.

“Wait, sorry. Wait. Just, I’ve got to... hang on,” Joe planted a knee onto the coffee table and leant all the way forward. His hands found both your knees and he moved until he got to steal one last quick kiss.

Okay, two.

Three.

Quick, a fourth. Maybe a fifth.

“Joe,” you giggled.

“What?” a sixth.

“I’m here to help you work!”

“Well, then,” seven. “Stop being so fucking cute!”

Joe got a few more in. An eight, ninth and a tenth, before he scrambled back up onto his feet.

Joe took a second to smile at you before he cleared his throat. “Right. Trailerpark.”

You smiled right back.

“Trailerpark.” the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #the boy is mine

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spockandawe · 10 months

Text

It's time! for! 2ha!!!!!!! I've had 'the husky and his white cat shizun' on my radar as a bookbinding project basically from the very start, back when I thought it was impossible that any of these danmei novels would ever be licensed for english translations. But this book is so long, and besides, the translation wasn't complete, so it went onto the backest of back burners. Until now! So, the book has been licensed. It's started releasing! As usual, please support these authors, they have a passionate english-speaking fanbase, and I very much want them to enjoy that success in a practical sense and not just an abstract one. And I also want more of these novels translated, haha. But the nature of licensing means I've also gotten a lot more interested in preserving prior translations in formats that can't casually be yoinked from the internet.

Now, this is a big novel. This was 1.1 million words. The stack of pressed text quarto blocks was over 15 inches, and once I added covers (very thick, for reasons I'm about to cover) and boxes, this thing was 22 inches long. Oh my god. This sustained effort naturally overlapped with an international trip and two crucially Important work presentations. I almost died. I had to split it into multiple boxes because I wasn't sure I could laminate boards thick enough to support so much weight at so much length and still cut it with any precision, lmao

And those covers? I took inspiration from notebooks I've sent with cover flaps like these, and also decided to see if I could incorporate the strip magnets I bought for peller box experiments and barely used. The downside that didn't make itself apparent until late in the construction process was that laminating boards to match this depth made the covers REAL thick, and difficult to cover with a crisp finish. Duo bookcloth can get wrinkly and fragile when it's wet, so it didn't entirely take me by surprise, but it's something I'll be accounting for next time I try this construction!

I tried to stick to a black and blue and silver color scheme, because it matches the book, but I also accepted some gold highlights on the endpapers. The duo bookcloth tends to photograph with a bit more brown in the color shift than I see in person, but I think it plays out well in person or in photos! The endpapers make for a nice striking pop when the book opens and don't blend into the cover fabric, which was something I definitely wanted to avoid.

And, speaking of thematically appropriate, I found this image for chapter headers that was almost perfect, but the wrong kind of flowers. So I did change those to haitang blosoms, haha. That happened early in the typesetting process, but I did also have that on my mind as I worked out decorations for the boxes! Mostly, I just titled what book of the novel it was on the top and left it there, but the very last detail I added was a pair of foil flowers done in pink and silver, on the outside edges of the boxes for book 1 and the extras. I finished that last night and then went to bed SO excited to take pictures in the morning. I really had an incredible time with this book, and the whole adventure reminded me just how much I love 2ha. I'm so happy I did this, I really had just an incredible time!!!!!

#crafts #bookbinding #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun #erha he ta de bai mao shizun #long post #with any luck ill be pulling together instructions for my case construction here soon

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dirtyvulture · 2 months

Text

Dear Diary

*Set in the Darkest Knight AU*

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Mutant!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4459

Summary: Natasha embraces her new life as an X-Men.

AN: I'm back with a little one shot. :) Enjoy!

December 6, 2023

Dear Diary,

Is that an appropriate way to start one of these? I’ve never kept a diary or a journal before. But Marie gave me this cute little notebook and said writing stuff down helps clear her mind, so I don’t think there’s any harm in giving it a shot. They would never let us have something like this in the Red Room. Too much evidence lying around for someone to stumble upon. Should I put a lock on this? Y/N wouldn’t snoop around to read this, would she? Well, I guess if she is–leave my diary alone, you big dummy!

The professor said the Red Room soldiers and Widows are coming tomorrow. This is all my fault. I’ve put these good people and innocent children in danger. Earlier, we went to help the kids pack their bags and board the buses. I’m not sure if Y/N has any kids of her own (or ever did at all), but I can tell she really cares about them. Although she was not happy with some of the excessive luggage some of them were bringing. No one would tell me where they’re sending the kids, but I overheard Ororo mention something about a private resort they had to buy out.

I still don’t quite understand why these people are willing to sacrifice so much for me. I’m basically a stranger to them. I have nothing to give them in return if they ask. Maybe they’ll finally throw me out when they realize how worthless I am. That’s what I really deserve. Not these warm clothes, the home-cooked meals, and this roof over my head. And I definitely don’t deserve the kindness and care Y/N has shown me. I really like her, but I’m afraid she’ll leave me when she realizes how boring and inexperienced I am.

Oh, I think she’s coming out of the shower now. I’ll continue this later.

Love,

Nat

***********************************************************************

December 15, 2023

Dear Diary,

It’s weird how life goes back to normal so fast here. The Red Room soldiers and Widows were here not even a week ago, tearing down doors and blasting out windows, and everything is already repaired and the students are back at it like nothing happened.

A lot of them are excited to go back to their homes and families for the holiday. But a lot of them will also be staying at the mansion, because their families won’t accept them or they just don’t have any home to go back to. The professor asked Y/N to help plan some holiday games so the kids staying don’t get too bored or lonely. She’s acting like it’s the dumbest assignment he’s ever given her, but I’ve seen her spending all her free time ordering presents and decorations (with the professor’s credit card, of course), so I know she takes it very seriously and the kids are going to love whatever she comes up with.

I’m really glad I get to spend Christmas here. It’s been a long time since I’ve actually been able to celebrate it with people I love. I feel so welcomed here and no one looks at me like I’m any different, when I come from a past where there’s red all over my ledger. Sometimes I’m surprised anyone even lets me be around these kids alone, but some of them have powers that even make Y/N nervous, and I think they know they can trust me.

It’ll take some more time before I can be fully comfortable here, but it’s really starting to grow on me and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Love,

Nat

***********************************************************************

December 25, 2023

Natasha wakes up alone. She looks around the bedroom, in case you might be on the floor doing push-ups or in the bathroom showering, but the room is completely empty. Her heartbeat picks up as she jumps out of bed, afraid that you’ve left her, when she notices a note on the desk.

Downstairs making breakfast. Come join when you’re up - Y/N

She relaxes immediately, touched how you made sure to let her know in advance where you would be. She quickly washes up and puts on a robe, then hurries downstairs to a chaotic mess of torn gift wrapping, screaming children, and flashing new toys. She steps into the kitchen, where you are wearing a flowered apron and are threatening Marie with a spatula.

“Stop, those aren’t ready–Marie!” You swat at her hands as she swipes for a pancake.

“Merry Christmas, Miss Nat!” Marie says, moving your attention away from her as your girlfriend appears.

“Merry Christmas, Marie.” Natasha gives the girl a hug, not missing the folded pancake in her hand.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” you say next, waiting for her to come over. “I made a special plate for you. It’s over here so the kids don’t get into it.” You point to a foil-covered plate off to the side of the stove. Natasha goes to investigate, peeling back the foil to find the plate fully-loaded with two different types of pancakes, one next to a little container of jam and honey, and the other still steaming and garnished with flecks of green onion. There’s even a bowl of grainy buckwheat porridge. Her heart soars at the sight of her favorite native breakfast. With a delighted squeal, she throws herself into your arms.

“Thankyou thankyou thankyou,” she choruses, squeezing you tightly as you rub her back.

“You’re welcome, darling.”

At this point, you shoo everyone out of the kitchen to finish the preparations. Natasha joins Marie in the dining hall, helping set up the plates and silverware. She watches with great curiosity as Kitty tries getting Peter to step under the mistletoe she hung above the doorway, and then is distracted when Jean and Scott come down for breakfast.

“Y/N cooks Christmas breakfast for us every year,” Jean explains to Natasha. “The kids always look forward to it.”

“Hey, Y/N!” Scott yells into the kitchen. “Keep the walnuts away from my food, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Natasha hears you dismissively respond.

“Scott’s allergic,” Jean whispers to her. “Now there’s no proof how, but he ended up with a plateful of them last year and I almost had to take him to the hospital. Needless to say, it was an eventful Christmas.”

Natasha giggles to herself, already having a feeling she knows exactly how those walnuts got on Scott’s plate.

Everyone finds a seat at the table, the empty one next to Natasha reserved for you. You finally emerge from the kitchen, no longer in the flowered apron but one of your classic checkerboard flannels. You’re carrying an impressive tower of pancakes in one hand and a pan filled half and half with bacon and sausage in the other. The students break out in appreciation and applause as Bobby scoots aside some dishes to make room for the last trays.

“Don’t take more than you can finish,” you remind the kids, going around the table to sit next to Natasha and presenting her with her special plate. “And uh, Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and all that other stuff.” You raise your apple cider in a toast and everyone follows your lead.

“Thanks for breakfast, Y/N,” Ororo says, clinking her glass to yours. The students erupt with more thanks before they start reaching for the food, passing around the mountainous plate of pancakes, scooping whole fried eggs onto each other’s plates.

“Thanks again, babe,” Natasha says, putting her hand on your thigh as she leans over to kiss you on the cheek.

“You should try it first before thanking me,” you tease, still not used to all the praise. You were just trying to be a good partner, and it was somewhat of a Christmas tradition for you to cook breakfast for all the students who stayed at the mansion over break. You didn’t mind it at all, in fact you really did enjoy spending time in the kitchen and it made you feel good to take care of others.

Natasha leaves her hand on your knee as she eats, and eventually you put your hand on top of hers comfortingly. Neither of you engage much in conversation as you eat and listen, happy with the company. Once all of the food has been finished, Ororo rounds up the students to help clean everything before they can continue opening presents.

Kitty gets you a Johnny Cash vinyl record. Marie and Bobby got you a variety pack of exotic flavors of jerky, including alligator, ostrich, and buffalo. Storm gives you and Natasha tickets to a weekend getaway at a Canadian resort. Jean and Scott also throw in a joint gift of a new set of winter bedsheets. You are very thankful for the presents and pile them neatly by your feet, when Natasha pulls out a box and puts it on your lap. Inside is a familiar-looking flannel shirt.

“It’s a brand new one,” Natasha says. “To replace all the ones I steal from your closet,” Natasha says.

“Thanks,” you say, putting your arm around her to pull her closer so you can kiss her cheek. “This one is from me.” You hand her a very small box.

Natasha opens it delicately and gasps when she sees what you’ve given her. It’s a wooden ring, carved a little roughly around the edges with little turquoise-colored gems pressed into the outside.

“Did you make this?” Natasha asks, running her finger over the gems.

“Uh, yeah.” You’re suddenly nervous that she doesn’t like it. Woodworking was not your finest hobby, despite your decades to fine-tune the skill, but you preferred to build vast structures and furniture. Tiny little pieces of jewelry were extremely difficult to handle, but hopefully it was worth the numerous cuts and splinters you gave yourself.

Natasha slips it on her right ring finger–a perfect fit. Maybe you needed to give yourself more credit for your handiwork.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, holding her hand up to admire the ring. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Natasha snuggles closer to you and rests her head on your shoulder while you sit back and watch everyone else finish opening their gifts.

***********************************************************************

The rest of the day is busy but productive. Natasha has never felt happier watching the students competitively decorate gingerbread houses, then go outside and play in the snow. You don’t join in anymore, preferring to watch from the side. You’re already wearing the flannel Natasha got for you and Natasha gazes at you adoringly from afar. Despite the differences the two of you had from time to time, she hasn’t loved another person the way she loves you. But sometimes she worries that you don’t feel the same way.

You still don’t talk very much, hardly opening up about your past the way Natasha has spilled about hers. Although you seem mostly content at the mansion, Natasha can tell you’re still adjusting to being around so many people. The life of solitude in the cabin in the woods had clearly been more your style, and she feels guilty for dragging you away from that. But as much as she would love to spend all day with you cozied up in a cabin you built with your own hands, it wasn’t a realistic option. Not with all the threats and dangers that could come her way.

Which is why it was so important to Natasha that the Red Room be dealt with, as soon as possible.

She didn’t like how dismissive you got every time she brought it up, but she understood why. You had found your domestic bliss and didn’t want to let it go anytime soon. She wasn’t going to blame you. But she wished you would actually listen to her instead of shutting her down all the time. She would figure out how to broach the topic with you eventually, but today was not that day.

After a quiet dinner, which is basically just warmed up leftovers from breakfast, Natasha finds you sitting by yourself on the couch in front of a dying fire. Most of the students had retired to their rooms, exhausted by the day’s festivities. Natasha sits next to you, leaning her shoulder against yours.

“Hey,” she whispers.

“Hi.” You offer her your hand and she clasps onto it, threading her fingers with yours. You smile when you see the wooden ring on her finger. It looks perfect on her. “Did you have fun today?” you ask.

“It was the best Christmas I ever had,” she replies. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course.”

Natasha is tired, but there’s still one more thing she wants to do with you. She rests her hand on your thigh, subtly at first, then she slowly starts to stroke your leg, her fingers barely perceptible through your jeans. You ignore her and her movements become bolder, creeping towards the inside of your thigh now and squeezing it lightly.

“Can I help you with something?” you finally ask. Natasha has always been a little more shy when it comes to asking for intimacy with you. But you were patient with her and never pressured her, and that encouraged her to have the confidence to ask if you were in the mood–even if she didn’t always do it with words.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” she says, leaning forward until her lips almost touch yours. “I still have one more present to give you.”

“Oh, do you now?” you ask, trying to kiss her but she pulls away.

“You have to come upstairs,” she repeats, offering you her hand as she stands up.

“All right, all right.” Your knees creak as you push off the couch, taking Natasha’s hand and following her upstairs. You can hear her heartbeat pounding with excitement or maybe that’s…yours? You hope everyone else has gone to sleep by now, otherwise they wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon.

Back in the privacy of the bedroom, you let Natasha lead you to the bed and you sit down on the edge with her climbing onto your lap.

“Is this okay?” she asks, her hands locking around the back of your neck.

“Of course,” you whisper, leaning in until your foreheads touch. Your arms circle her waist to hold her securely in place. Her breath fans over your face and her heartbeat pumps at an almost alarmingly quick rate.

“I want you,” she says, rocking her hips against your thighs. “I want you to take me.”

“How do you want me?” you ask, before she presses her lips roughly to yours, her fingers digging into your neck. Her arousal spikes and so does yours. You open your mouth when she licks your lips to deepen the kiss. She tastes like vanilla and cookies and you instinctively pull her closer to you, wanting to devour her until the morning.

Natasha grabs the collar of your flannel, pulling apart the top buttons and running her hands down your chest and abs. Your skin burns where she touches you and you nip lightly on her bottom lip when she rests her hands on the buckle of your belt.

“I want to taste you,” you pant, hoping your request doesn’t come across as too greedy. Natasha has to fight down her thrill of excitement at your suggestion, wondering how you knew exactly what she wanted. She doesn’t even take the time to agree with you, instead hurriedly stripping off her clothes to show you how eager she is. You take off the flannel, setting it aside with reverence, then removing your undershirt and jeans. Natasha tackles you back on the bed, your thigh fitting between her legs and you feel the heat from her center rubbing against you.

“You’re so wet for me,” you say, holding her hips again and guiding her up until she’s hovering over your chest. “My good girl.”

“Your good girl,” Natasha reiterates, grabbing onto the headboard for support before she positions herself over your face. The scent of her arousal is almost overwhelming to you, and you waste no time bringing your arms over her thighs to pull her down. Natasha whines when your mouth makes contact with her slick center, your tongue slipping into her and coating with her juices.

Natasha moans, grinding down so you can enter her deeper. Your arms tighten to prevent her from moving too much; you want to do things at your own pace. Her taste is so intoxicating and addictive, you could lie here forever eating her out. Natasha grips the headboard tighter, struggling to rock against your face for more friction, but you won’t let her. She whines in desperation, the noises music to your ears. Your tongue dips into her again before tracing up to her clit, flicking against it and Natasha grinds down harder on your chin, gasping and moaning.

“Y/N,” she begs. “Y/N, please.”

You stop, pulling away from her far enough to say, “What do you want, baby?”

“I want you,” she repeats, her voice breaking. “I need you.”

“I know, baby. I got you.” As much as you love teasing her, this is not the time. You knew Natasha could sometimes be insecure about your relationship with her. But you had no regrets in choosing to be with her and loved her so much. You would never miss an opportunity to show her, either.

You loosen your arms around her so she has some freedom to move and Natasha quickly adjusts herself until she’s comfortable. When she settles back down on your face again, you find her clit and wrap your lips around it, rewarded with a long, drawn-out moan. Natasha rolls her hips to help you find a good rhythm. You feel her thighs tremble and more of her slick spills onto your tongue.

“Oh, god. Oh fuck, Y/N,” she whimpers, the headboard flexing dangerously from how hard she’s holding onto it.

Your stomach practically burns from how aroused you are with Natasha riding your face, and you’re hoping she’ll help you relieve some of the tension once you make her finish. You’ve held out as long as you could, and you can tell Natasha is ready to fall over the edge. Your tongue rests on her clit again, swiping upwards in a straight line, then dragging down at a diagonal angle, then going back up.

Your tongue moves in an inverted V next, drawing an imaginary bar between them.

You lick down her clit once more, then swipe perpendicular.

Natasha is panting and shaking, completely unaware that you’re trying to spell her name on her with your tongue. One of her hands has left the headboard and is holding tightly onto your hair in an attempt to guide you, but your own plan is already in action.

She doesn’t make it the next A, her back arching and thighs clamping around your head as she finally cums. You don’t let a drop of it go to waste, lapping at her sensitive folds until she’s whimpering and trying to pull your head away. Natasha lifts herself off your face with a contented sigh, turning herself away from the headboard now, but you’re not quite done with her yet.

You pull her back down on your face and she falls forward with her hands on your chest.

“Did I say you could go anywhere?” you grumble playfully.

“Y/N,” Natasha giggles.

“Can I have one more, darling?” you ask, and she responds by sitting back on your face. But now Natasha is the one with other ideas, as she eyes the veins on your flexing abdomen that disappear behind the band of your underwear. You feel her hands run across your stomach and your breath hitches when she tugs down your underwear.

“Nat, what are you–oh, shit.” Now it’s your turn to gasp and moan when Natasha leans over and places her mouth on your dripping center. You completely lose focus of what you were doing, instinctively spreading your legs open further to give her better access. “Fuck baby, oh fuck,” you whine, your head dropping back on the pillow.

“Did I say you could stop?” Natasha teases, turning your own words back against you. It takes a monumental effort, but you calm yourself enough to put your mouth to work again. Natasha almost soaks herself when she realizes how turned on you’ve gotten just from eating her out. Now she has only one mission in mind: make you cum before she does a second time. But you’re refusing to make it easy for her, and Natasha is already dangerously close despite having finished mere minutes ago. She knows she has to hurry, but judging from the tremble in your thighs, you’re closer than you’re letting on.

Natasha’s tongue circles your clit and she can feel you panting against her, your own efforts faltering in their rhythm. She pushes back against your face to remind you of what you promised her. Your fingers dig into the curve of her ass and you feel her breasts rubbing against your abs. Her mouth is so hot and wet and perfect on you, making you lose your breath every time her tongue touches you.

“Fuck, Nat,” you whimper, feeling like you’re losing control of yourself. You’re not even sure if what you’re doing to her anymore is working because all you can think about is the throbbing in your lower stomach that begs to be released. Your back arches off the bed when her tongue lashes at your clit and she struggles and fails to push down on your thighs to keep you grounded. “Nat, I can’t,” you warn, a little embarrassed at how fast you’re ready to release.

“It’s okay,” you hear Natasha say, “Cum for me, baby.”

White floods your vision and all the muscles in your body tighten as you spill into her mouth, a moan catching in your throat. Your head spins in a rush of endorphins and you’re practically convulsing underneath Natasha when you finally come down from your high. She purrs in delight at her success, gently squeezing at your thighs. And as much as you want to flip her around and press her head against your chest, you still do owe her.

Natasha’s second orgasm is a little more subdued but just as pleasurable. She bites the inside of your thigh to quiet the noise of her moan and you almost cum again. But once she finds the strength to move, Natasha crawls back up to you, nuzzling the side of your head and kissing you. Normally, you could go several rounds without even stopping for a break, but you’re unusually exhausted today. Maybe it was from waking up at four o’clock to work on breakfast for everyone or making sure that the Christmas activities throughout the day ran smoothly.

Natasha rests her head on your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat and you rub her shoulder, tilting your head down to breathe in the faded scent of her shampoo.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” she whispers.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

***********************************************************************

January 2, 2024

Dear Diary,

Professor Xavier called me personally to his office today. I was really nervous that I was in trouble for something. I’m still not sure how I feel about his mind-reading thing. I try to keep my thoughts in check when he’s around, but I think that makes it seem like I’m hiding something. But other than that, he’s only ever been polite and respectful to me, and I can tell Y/N really looks up to him as a mentor and father figure.

He told me he has a lead on where the Red Room could be and asked if I still want to pursue them. Of course I do, but I know Y/N isn’t happy about it. I thought she would understand more. I know she’s got her own past that she hasn’t told me the entirety of yet (not that she’s required to), but she’s told a few stories so I know her situation is similar enough to mine. I wish she was more supportive instead of trying to talk me out of it, but I know she’s worried too. She doesn’t want me rushing back into danger and I totally get that. But I just…I can’t stay here and be cared for and protected and loved when there are so many of my sisters still being held against their will and forced into doing horrible things.

Luckily, the professor seems more understanding of things. But I don’t want him or anyone else here risking their lives for me. If I have to go alone, I will. I don’t know if I can do it alone, though. I’m sure Y/N will insist on tagging along no matter what. I just hope she doesn’t get too grumpy about the whole thing.

Love,

Nat

***********************************************************************

January 4, 2024

Dear Diary,

I still haven’t told Y/N what the professor told me 2 days ago (assuming she hasn’t already gone through my diary and read about it here). I tried to mention it after dinner, but I could tell as soon as I let the “R” word slip she was not paying attention to the conversation anymore. I don’t want my frustration to build up, so I’ll probably have to be straightforward about it, which isn’t easy.

I know the professor can hear all of my thoughts, so I wonder if he’s going to get tired of them and just talk to Y/N himself. But probably not. This is my problem to handle. I’ll find the courage somehow to deal with it.

I just hope it doesn’t cause Y/N to look down on me for this. I’m already nervous that I’m constantly annoying her, and if she gets fed up enough and kicks me out I will literally have nowhere to go and at that point, I’d welcome back the Red Room with open arms. That probably seems a little dramatic, but I really don’t want to risk losing the best person that ever came into my life. I have Y/N to thank for everything I have here, and I think most people in my position would call me crazy for trying to make any changes to my situation.

But I’m not like most people. And I have to do what I think is right, even if others try to stop me.

I’ll bring it up to Y/N later again. Maybe if I catch her in a good mood she’ll be more receptive to the idea. Wishing luck to my future self.

Love,

Nat

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