#like i neeed to have my arms stretched out

[thatsuncleharrytoyouyoungman]

is it starting again ugh

[gretavanflame]

Kiss Me Good

Jake Kiszka x Reader (f)

Cw: SMUT including: fingering, oral (f) reviving, the word daddy (said one time), a ridiculous amount of pet names, arrogant cocky jake, slight overstimulation, slight choking, kissing, nipple play, teasing, slight mentions of pain, slight hair pulling.

Summary: Your surprise for Jake, fresh back from tour, finally gets noticed, and in turn- heavily rewarded.

Word Count: 2k

It started out as a simple idea really. One that took root and sprouted in your brain until it just had to be done.

Your friend had mentioned something. A wax job she got that, “made my man go into a frenzy over my pussy.”

It was funny first, but then you began to wonder what it would look like for your man to, well… do that.

It’s not like he hasn’t before. In fact you’re his favorite meal, and he tells you that every time he indulges. But because of the tour, it’s been a while. He got back only yesterday, and had been too tired to touch you, and at this point- you’re craving him.

Long story short, you got the name and number of her esthetician and booked an appointment right away, and since then, you’ve just been waiting.

Now you lay on your side, silently watching the rise and fall of Jake’s chest through his state of sleep. It has always perplexed you how a man can look so beautiful while sleeping. And Jake often perplexes you.

You reach your finger out to trace along his nose and down to his lips. You run the finger over them, just feeling the soft skin that your lips miss. This however, wakes him, and his eyes blink open and turn to you.

You smile at your boyfriend like a puppy in love and sit up higher to watch him realize he’s not on a tour bus. A stupid grin stretches across his face and he sits up on his hands so that his face is right in front of yours.

“Good morning Jakey.”

“Good morning doll-face.”

You swallow, taking a moment to get used to the sweet sound of his morning voice. It's low and grumbly, and it makes you want to rip off your clothes right here, which would spoil the surprise entirely.

“So are you feeling well rested?”

He laughs, shaking his head, leaning in.

“Are you still all pouty that I denied you last night? Hmm? Did my pretty girl not get what she wanted?”

Now you do pout, and push his face away. He only laughs again.

“Com’ere, give me a kiss.”

You lean in, letting your eyes close as your lips connect, sparks flying through your body. His hand comes up to your cheek, just resting there as you taste his breath, hot on your tongue. The kiss is slow, every move intentional and full of love and longing as your tongues intertwine in a way that is less than ladylike, setting prickles all over your skin.

He breaks away, a wet pop filling the air.

“You missed me.”

“I did Jake. So much.”

“Did you miss all of me?”

You smirk, meeting his eye with a knowing look.

“Come. Have me.”

He gestures to his body, you internally chuckle at the double meaning behind his words. He pulls out his arms and you crash into them, grabbing and pulling at the material of his soft t-shirt as you attack his mouth.

He’s slightly pushed back at the force, laughing against your mouth before his tongue licks into it. His arms wrap around you, tight, possessive. You’re like two magnets, unable to be pulled away from each other.

You break away just to breathe, “You know what I really missed Jake?”

You lean back in to bite along his bottom lip, waiting for response. A soft whimper that he tries to hide, ricochets off his warm tongue and you drink it down, the ache between your thighs growing significantly.

“I missed your tongue. I want it all over me. Please Jake. I need it.”

“Oh you neeed it?” He draws out the word, teasing you, pouting his lips and contorting his face into one of feigned sadness.

“Shut up.” You challenge, words coming out as a whine before his hand comes to loosely wrap around your throat. The remaining air is pulled from your lungs, sounding like a pitiful moan. And there's no pressure in his hold, it merely reminds you who’s incharge.

His other hand grabs your waist, turning you on the bed so that you’re lying beneath him.

“You know what princess?” He asks, dipping down to nip little purple splotches into your neck. “I think I am feeling well rested.” His mouth harshley sucks the skin above your breast, leaving a glistening pink hue in its wake. “Thank you so much for your concern, baby.”

He’s playing a game now. Giving you exactly what you want, but not without a little fun for himself.

His hands come to your tank top, gripping the neckline and ripping until the fabric opens up, exposing your bare breasts to him. An animalistic groan escapes him and he immediately latches his mouth onto your nipple.

He sucks one long kiss into your skin and pops off with a breath, looking up at you through wild eyes. He smirks, lowering his face to your stomach, kissing and licking along it until he reaches the waistline of your boxers- or rather his.

“What are these, baby? Are these some other guy’s? Did you cheat on me while I was away?”

He smiles, amused, knowing that they’re only his.

“My princess got so horny she had to fuck some other guy? She wouldn’t do that, would she? I think she would wait until Daddy gets home. I think she would wait until she could have his mouth.”

You’re panting now, back arching as you try to lift back up into his touch. A single finger traces down your stomach, stopping short at the top of his boxers. You shudder under his touch as you’re reminded of the familiar calloused fingertips. The ones that are the product of spending hours tearing up ‘The Beloved.’ Treating her just as he treats you.

His fingertips hook into them, pulling them down at a tantalizing pace as he kisses just above it. His eyes open to stare at yours as his mouth lowers. When he realizes you aren’t wearing any underwear he smirks, his eyes still on you. Your heart is racing with anticipation and he’s better than you even remembered. Every word, every touch makes you feel like you’re falling deep deep into the abscess with him holding you steadily behind.

“No panties? You’re terrible.”

He looks down, finally, at the grand surprise. The thin ‘landing strip’ you had waxed into you sits neatly and his mouth parts, leaving him panting above you.

“Holy fuck sugar. This all for me?”

You nod slowly and he grants you a prideful smile. Your heart skips a beat and melts all at once while he takes a moment just to look at his favorite girl.

He drops his back down and his tongue speaks out to lick a slow stipe right next to the bit of hair. He moves his head to the other side, and you feel the cold air hit the moisture in contrast to how warm his tongue felt just moments ago. He repeats the action on the other side, landing with a kiss to the top of your mound.

You feel yourself practically leaking out of you, feeling his tongue so so close, but just not enough. You feel like begging, like letting go of all shame and screaming for his mouth on your cunt. But you know begging gets you nothing. He’s taught you better than that.

You bite your lip as his tongue kisses the inside of your thigh, just teasing you now, denying you of your deepest desires. He knows it too, by the smug look on his face as he moves to the other leg, licking the supple flesh.

Finally, finally, his tongue flattens, and runs from your entrance, all the way up to circle your clit. The sudden pleasure is white hot and travels up your whole body, making a moan drift off your tongue.

“That’s it bunny. You just lay there making all those pretty sounds. Make’s my fucking cock ache.”

Your pussy clenches at his words in their obscenity. And the fact that you have some effect on him turns you on beyond belief.

Then he breaks, finally diving into your pussy, licking and sucking with no mercy. Your back arches from the bed once more, chasing his tongue as it spoils your clit rotten. He rolls it into his mouth, lapping his tongue over and over again, the wet noises blaring into your ears.

You wrap your hand into his chocolate locks, pulling like they’re reigns, guiding his mouth down onto you. You moan his name as your legs wrap around his head, then releasing it through a shake. His lips continue, moving down to your entrance to suck up the arousal that drips out of you.

He takes the juices on his tongue, bringing them back up to your clit before drinking them down with a quivering moan. Your clit is throbbing now as his tongue gains in speed. Embarrassment is out the window now. Jake begins to absolutely devour you while you just lay there and take it.

You tug on his hair again, just to test the waters as he works you. He sighs again into your cunt, the vibrations settling you wild before he pulls away to say, “You taste so fucking good.”

He brings two fingers up now, teasing them over your entrance. A choked groan gasps out of you as he inches them in.

“Jake.”

He pauses, looking up at your face, amused by your flushed, out of breath state.

“I touched myself while you were gone. But my fingers- they weren't as big as yours- didn’t feel as good.”

“Aw that’s too bad, angel.”

He sinks an inch deeper and you cry out.

“You have my fingers… now.” He plunges both the digits deep into you with no warning. You cry out, your breath strangled and desperate. His fingers hit you so deep, stretching you out so good, just like how you remembered.

His name falls from your lips and he curls the fingers into you, hitting your g-spot with ease. His mouth reconnects too, tongue delivering small kitten licks to your clit. His hands pick up a slow rhythm.

The paired pleasure makes you tip your brows back, mouth opening in shock as the licks get sloppier, wetter. As his fingers start to thrust into you.

You bring both hands down into his hair, pulling him by it to get his face as close as possible. He groans into your pussy, licking a thick over your slit.

His thrusts get a little harder now, the painful dull ache melting into pleasure in a few moments. His mouth picks up speed, fully connected to you, kissing and licking any surface his hopeless tongue can find.

Your legs begin to shake now. Slowly, from deep within it like a faraway rumbling of a train. You start to slowly rock your hips into his face, his mouth moving with you.

He comes up for air, breathing in a struggled breath as he rasps, “That’s right. Fucking cum on my face. Be a good girl.”

With one final jab of his fingers into you, his mouth working alongside the rhyme, you burst.

Your eyes roll back as your hips lock in place, your whole body shaking. Your hands pull him to you, needing to feel him even closer, if that, possible. Your legs clamp around his head, pushing around his head and pull it down, cutting off his oxygen as you cum all over his face. You chant his name again and again, a sound he’ll remember and use as recollection for when he’s away. It flows off your tongue hurried and grating, syllables scraping for air.

In one quick second, his euphoric touch turns to pain, feeling white hot as you try to push his searching mouth away. You whine and hiss before he finally does, completely out of breath and fucked out.

It’s only then do you release how completely soaked he is, his face glistening with your cum. You lay back, exhausted, the twitching muscles in your legs slowly beginning to settle, your pussy convulsing and clenching around nothing. He tilts his head down to grant you one last lick, and laughs when you jolt and whimper.

“I missed you too Y/n. For the record.”

.

.

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Taglist <3 - To join click here

@jazzyfigz @gold-mines-melting @musicislove3389 @valentine264 @jenniferkiszka @knoxious-dalton @torun-was-here @ageofmaglc @allof--mylove @fleetingjake @ff-liveyourlegend-ttiol @cheersdannyx2

[almostempty]

but you take great pleasure in catching a man in the act.

me

The deep sable eyes resembling a baby calf’s are staring at you through the glossy photo paper. He’s sporting a mustache reminiscent of Burt Reynolds that is calling your name. His smirk is laced with a charming cockiness. 

stupid beautiful idiot sexy man

Which is why I want to know who he’s fucking. I know there’s another woman, or maybe even a guy

mmmm why not both

You hate to admit it, and someone would have to waterboard this information out of you, but the hat is doing something for him.

Or you.  Whatever. 

LMAO REAL

He shops weekly on Wednesdays

he can do anything on me

(he always puts the cart back inside the store, not the cart returns in the parking lot),

iconic cowboy king behavior

takes the same route home everyday, watches Jeopardy while he eats dinner – you caught on quickly that he cooks during Wheel of Fortune, it appears he isn’t a big fan of Pat and Vanna, dishes promptly following Final Jeopardy and bed by nine.

giggling over this, like so real of him

Thank the universe he left his blinds open. 

yes yes yes yes yes

Even through the binoculars, you can see how big his cock is. Your mouth salivates at the sight, wanting to feel the stretch of him in all your holes. 

drooooling

You’re not supposed to see this. Not at all.

heheheheh

You’re feeling like a grade-A pervert right about now but the sight is too glorious to look away. He spits on his hand, and languidly begins stroking his cock. He runs his other hand through his hair, his toned arms flexing with his movements, his chest heaving. 

oh my goddddddd

It shouldn’t turn you on like it does. For one, it’s highly unprofessional. Secondly, he’s unaware he’s got an audience. Morally speaking, it’s definitely not your shining moment. But it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, watching him tease and work himself up. You couldn’t pry your eyes away if you wanted to. 

shhhhhh it's okay bb, it's not real, just keep watching and tell me all about it

Jack’s not the only one getting worked up; your clit throbs so hard you feel like it’ll go numb.

real

He continues his slow movements, dragging out his pleasure at a delicious and excruciating pace. Somehow, this makes the whole scene that much hotter; the display of restraint and discipline. You wonder if he does that with his lovers. Teasing, teasing, teasing, giving just enough to drive you insane before slowing almost to a stop. 

OKAYYYYYY NEEED, my eyes are rolling back

You mirror Jack’s pace - teasing your lips with a featherlight touch, inching closer and closer to your needy clit, stopping just shy of it, to tease yourself more. It’s agonizing in the best way, taking your time like this. Normally, you like efficiency when making yourself come, rarely going the extra mile to turn the pleasure dial up, but this makes you question why you’re ever in a hurry. 

she's so hot tooo okay i need them both

You reach your clit, going in gentle circles to match Jack’s unhurried pace. You wish you could hear the sounds he’s making, all the grunts and whimpers escaping his plush lips. 

SAME LEMME HEAR 'EM

He speeds up his strokes, now ravenous for his delayed release and so are you. Overtaken by the need to come, you drop the binoculars, letting them fall to the floorboard. You’re not even watching him anymore, having seen more than enough to commit to your spank bank. With your eyes closed and head pushing into the headrest, your mind is flooded with images of Jack fucking you slow, hard and deep, absolutely destroying your pussy – legs over his shoulders, hitting the spot that makes you scream and cry in euphoria. The image of him spilling into you, filling you up with his come is what tips you over the edge, your body shivers in bliss and you rock against your hand to ride out the high, feeling faint from the intensity. 

that entire paragraph YESSS SO HOT

After you’ve recovered and fumbled your chance of ever seeing The Pearly Gates, you dare to look back to his house, to find all the lights back off.

uh oh

“You like watchin’ people don’t ya?” he asks, his tone is dark, but not angry. No, it’s something else entirely. 

screaminggGGGGGG

“You like watchin’, but darlin’ I want to know, do ya like bein’ watched?”

PLS

private eyes - jack daniels x private investigator!f!reader (18+ MDNI)

this is for @iamasaddie little lady kinky may challenge! congrats on 2.5k! <333 I was paired with Jack / Voyeurism.

banner by: @cafekitsune

tags: voyeurism (reader watches jack), masturbation (m & f), reader is a private investigator, gratuitous descriptions of my fav cowboy stroking his big cock, dub-con a little? reader masturbates in her car but there isn't anyone around so public but private

a/n: this is the first fic I've completed in months. it's short and to the point, idk how i feel about it but it pushed me out of my writing slump! kinda want to do a part 2 for this, what do y'all think 👀

wc: ~1.6k

smut below the cut

 “I want you to catch that son of a bitch in the act.”

The visibly scorned woman, Camilla, sitting across from you asks through tears, ones that she hasn’t allowed to escape down her cheeks; catching them right at the waterline with an overused tissue.

This isn’t the first time a disgruntled, mistreated, or betrayed lover has sought out your services — no shortage of shitty men leaving trails of destruction while they pillage and greedily chase their own interests. She’s no different, seeking closure from the broken-off engagement from her now ex-fiancée, Jack Daniels. The pair had been together for a year, engaged for three months and one day, out of the blue, Jack broke it off. According to her, he didn’t give a concrete reason, something vague about being consumed with his job and that “she deserved a better life than that”. 

Of course you get paid a pretty penny for your work, but you take great pleasure in catching a man in the act. Whether the woman needs proof for divorce settlements, custody battles, or to just have leverage. Whatever the case may be, you find a gratification you don’t get anywhere else; the upheaval of a man trying to have his cake and eat it too. 

The conventionally attractive woman you couldn’t pick out of a line-up slides her homemade dossier across the coffee shop table, tacky & sticky from previous patrons. You flip through the information presented to you, taking mental notes as you go. You can’t deny the heat that rises up your face as you study the picture of your next target. The deep sable eyes resembling a baby calf’s are staring at you through the glossy photo paper. He’s sporting a mustache reminiscent of Burt Reynolds that is calling your name. His smirk is laced with a charming cockiness. 

“He’s quite the looker, I know. Hell of a lay, too,” her words snap you out of your daydream. Her words feel hollow, his looks are the only attributes she’s mentioned during the duration of the consultation. You're not getting paid for moral judgements and you remind yourself you don’t know the whole story. 

“Which is why I want to know who he’s fucking. I know there’s another woman, or maybe even a guy… he’d answer calls in the middle of the night and step into another room and I swear I could hear a woman’s voice on the other end, he’d tell me he’s going on work trips… he works at a whiskey distillery, why the hell does he need to go on all these trips?” She explains, putting air quotes around ‘trips’ with her dainty, well-manicured hands, “he’d stay late at work a few nights a week, and then it turned into a nightly thing… Anyways, you come highly recommended, so I’m trusting you won’t let me down,” she adds. You’re not a fan of the passive aggressive, back-handed compliment she gives you, but ultimately you give her an understanding smile as you both rise from the table. 

“I’ll be in touch,” you tell her, as you exit. As cliche as that line is, you love saying it every time. 

Days of following Jack around have proven to be fruitless. The man has a simple routine: wakes up at six, traipses to the bathroom to begin his morning regimen of a showering, shaving and grooming his beloved mustache, and to conclude,  adorns his body in his tight denim jeans, a crisp button-down, a cowboy hat, and boots to match. You hate to admit it, and someone would have to waterboard this information out of you, but the hat is doing something for him. 

Or you. 

Whatever. 

He shops weekly on Wednesdays (he always puts the cart back inside the store, not the cart returns in the parking lot), takes the same route home everyday, watches Jeopardy while he eats dinner – you caught on quickly that he cooks during Wheel of Fortune, it appears he isn’t a big fan of Pat and Vanna, dishes promptly following Final Jeopardy and bed by nine. In three weeks Jack hasn’t had a single visitor, of any gender, leaves work at five like everyone else, the man isn’t adding up to be a cheating womanizer like Camilla had set him out to be. Not to say that he isn’t, but you’re not finding any evidence to support that claim. You’ve actually found yourself developing a crush on the man. He’s undoubtedly handsome, seemingly laid back despite his strict routine, and there’s something mysterious that lies beneath that you’re itching to unearth.

You’re parked discreetly across the street from his house. It’s a nice quiet street, with only two lamps to illuminate the surrounding neighborhoods, allowing you to stay shrouded in the night. 

You’re about to call it a night, exhaustion settling deep into your bones, when you notice a lamp turned on in the living room. Fortunately, the window faces the street, making your job that much easier for you. You pick up your binoculars to peer in, adjusting the focus for your prying eyes. Thank the universe he left his blinds open. 

He sits on the couch with his back facing you. It looks like he’s reaching for the remote, like maybe he’s having trouble sleeping, but when he settles back into the couch, you notice he’s butt ass naked, in all his glory. Even through the binoculars, you can see how big his cock is. Your mouth salivates at the sight, wanting to feel the stretch of him in all your holes. 

You’re not supposed to see this. Not at all. Usually in your assignments, you don’t get the full X-rated view, just the PG-13 suggestive one, and you are more than grateful for that. 

But not now.

You’re getting your own private peep show from the man you’re getting paid to spy on. You’re feeling like a grade-A pervert right about now but the sight is too glorious to look away. He spits on his hand, and languidly begins stroking his cock. He runs his other hand through his hair, his toned arms flexing with his movements, his chest heaving. 

It shouldn’t turn you on like it does. For one, it’s highly unprofessional. Secondly, he’s unaware he’s got an audience. Morally speaking, it’s definitely not your shining moment. But it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, watching him tease and work himself up. You couldn’t pry your eyes away if you wanted to. 

Jack’s not the only one getting worked up; your clit throbs so hard you feel like it’ll go numb. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears thump-thump thump-thump. You let out a whine when Jack massages his tip, precum dribbling out like a sweet nectar you’d like to feast on. He continues his slow movements, dragging out his pleasure at a delicious and excruciating pace. Somehow, this makes the whole scene that much hotter; the display of restraint and discipline. You wonder if he does that with his lovers. Teasing, teasing, teasing, giving just enough to drive you insane before slowing almost to a stop. 

Possessed by desire, you haphazardly look for any lingering people outside before unbuttoning your pants to shove your hand to where it's needed most. You gasp at the cool air hitting your thinly clothed pussy, you can smell your own arousal seeped into your panties and it spurs you on further. You mirror Jack’s pace - teasing your lips with a featherlight touch, inching closer and closer to your needy clit, stopping just shy of it, to tease yourself more. It’s agonizing in the best way, taking your time like this. Normally, you like efficiency when making yourself come, rarely going the extra mile to turn the pleasure dial up, but this makes you question why you’re ever in a hurry. 

You reach your clit, going in gentle circles to match Jack’s unhurried pace. You wish you could hear the sounds he’s making, all the grunts and whimpers escaping his plush lips. 

He speeds up his strokes, now ravenous for his delayed release and so are you. Overtaken by the need to come, you drop the binoculars, letting them fall to the floorboard. You’re not even watching him anymore, having seen more than enough to commit to your spank bank. With your eyes closed and head pushing into the headrest, your mind is flooded with images of Jack fucking you slow, hard and deep, absolutely destroying your pussy – legs over his shoulders, hitting the spot that makes you scream and cry in euphoria. The image of him spilling into you, filling you up with his come is what tips you over the edge, your body shivers in bliss and you rock against your hand to ride out the high, feeling faint from the intensity. 

After you’ve recovered and fumbled your chance of ever seeing The Pearly Gates, you dare to look back to his house, to find all the lights back off. It’s a bit of a relief, feeling less shameful of what you’ve done now that you can’t see him at the moment. 

You button your pants backup and lean over to retrieve the forgotten binoculars from the floorboard, as your fingers grab them you hear a knock on the window. The sudden rap on the glass makes you flinch, feeling your skeleton attempt to flee from your corporeal body. Your heart drops to your stomach when you see Jack standing outside your car, leaning one forearm against the body so his face is level with yours. Fuck fuck fuck. You’ve been caught. Dizziness and nausea war within you as you roll down the window. You open your mouth to explain the situation, but words never escape your mouth. 

“You like watchin’ people don’t ya?” he asks, his tone is dark, but not angry. No, it’s something else entirely. 

“I–”

“‘S’alright. Caught onto ya pretty quick. A pretty face like yours ain’t hard to miss.”

“I– i’m sorry, um,” you scramble to find words, any words but Jack interjects again. 

“You like watchin’, but darlin’ I want to know, do ya like bein’ watched?”

[hellishvu]

The Favorite Witch

 I am really feeding the gays and everyone in between this pride month !! have this story i wrote 2 months ago!! happy pride once again!! <33

— Where you are opened to find a new roommate so you move into a dorm with a well known witch named Seokjin.

"Namjoon you know how many people have left?! I could be brewing my potions and I turn invisible and poof they are gone!" Seokjin mumbled as he showed Namjoon pictures of his new potions that he had spent weeks making.

"Seokjin, imagine seeing your roommate a wizard, it's a bit iffy. You know the reputation you guys tend to have." Namjoon says as Seokjin typed at his computer making posters of roommates.

"Roommate neeeded, BEWARE: I am a witch, no I will not kill you. Call me:"

It has been days since he put that poster up and he hasn't gotten a single call back, Seokjin was wearing his lucky necklace everyday hoping it would bring some type of luck. Seokjin has quiet a look to him, it wasn't like the normal trends he liked being his own person. I guess that is what you learn quickly being a witch.

Seokjin was laying on his couch seeing his bills start to stack up, Seokjin was eating his potato chips as his phone rang from a text alert. At first Seokjin ignored it thinking it was a teacher sending a reminder but his phone rang more than once making Seokjin more curious. Seokjin grabbed his phone and saw the text messages of an unknown number.

Seokjin giggled to himself as he had finally found a roommate, kissing his lucky necklace he got up and started to clean his apartment. Seokjin opened a potion letting the dust and the particles flying around. Seokjin went to his snake friend that he bought during the beginning of fall. Seokjin smiled at her, she rose up from the potion and started to clean the house. Seokjin stretched as he grabbed the broom cleaning.

You knocked on the door hearing music playing, you looked at the address the little card that was on the poster. You unplugged your headphones as you saw the door open. You smiled at the male standing before you. You both shared a handshake as the male introduced himself as Seokjin. Seokjin let you in as you looked around, you saw the snake's little house in the living room. You looked in the kitchen and saw herbs and mushrooms and many more vegetables. Seokjin patiently waited as you looked at the size of your room.

"It's a good size." You thought as Seokjin explained how the apartments run and how they have certain rules. Seokjin looked behind him to see his snakes and his potions had been opened. Seokjin widen his eyes as the potions released magic. You turned around and saw fairies and a black cat began to talk.

"... You weren't kidding when you said you were a witch." You said as you saw the black cat peek from the door.

"He's the new guy? As long as he feeds me treats I don't mind him, I guess." The black cat says as you widen your eyes,

"Yoongi!" Seokjin yelled at Yoongi the black cat that he's had since high school. The cat always felt like a human to Seokjin so he spent months creating a potion so that he could talk.

Now for you, you knew that witches can do potions and cause strange things to happen that are unspoken of but if someone had told you that their cat talks... now that's something else.

"What? If he's gonna live with you. He's gonna have to deal with me!" Yoongi walks up to your leg, twirling around it. You pet his head feeling his soft fur. The cute little purr that he makes.

"Yeah sorry.. about all this. I know this could be a nuisance to deal with. So don't feel bad for saying no, I completely understand." Seokjin says as he grabs Yoongi petting him in his arms. You looked at him, giving him a smile.

"I'll take it Seokjin. This isn't a nuisance, it's pretty magical." You said as Seokjin eyes glowed.

"Look you got the witch happy." Yoongi said as he rubbed his head against Seokjin's chest. You snickered as you followed Seokjin out of the room to sign the papers.

"So when do you think you will move in?" Seokjin asks as you started to make some phone calls to your recent apartment. Asking your friends for help since it's early morning.

"I can today? I got finals coming soon and I rather deal with moving as soon as possible." You smiled as Seokjin nodded. You shook hands as he helped you pack in, having his little fairies help him also.

"So you're Y/N right?" One of the fairies asked as you nodded seeing the little fairies giggle.

"You seem just like Seokjin's type." The purple fairy said as she flew around you and around Seokjin making a heart.

"Okay! Let's not talk about my types." Seokjin had a deep shade of blush as he took the textbooks of many college classes.

You two moved in together, as months went by you two grew close. The way Seokjin would proudly show his mixes of magic and potions. You were there for him, a lot of the time when he had a bad day or he couldn't get that one potion right you would be there to help clear his mind. Providing take out as you two watch movies till you pass out.

The thing was that Seokjin had hellish nightmares... that kept him from sleeping at night. The sudden wake at night in a cold sweat, screaming as he looks around his dark room to see Yoongi sleeping on his lap. Seokjin didn't have to worry about it due to him living alone but now? He had you and if you couldn't sleep because of him waking up, he thought you would move out.

Seokjin spent the next couple of weeks to month creating a potion to make him fall asleep and dream no more. He had a constant portion of it for every night and if he had a routine of drinking it but when finals came around he found himself exhausted. Trying to keep his research and the mountains of work to keep under control was a pain.

You walked in your apartment door seeing Seokjin asleep on his book for a lecture that he'll probably forget in the next 10 years. You snickered as you slowly very carefully carried him to his bedroom. He clung to you like a child with a teddy bear, you set him down and covered him with blankets. You walked back to your room reading the notes you took in class to be prepared for the test you had next week.

You heard screams and someone trying to get air into their lungs. You jumped up as your heart raced to get to the source of the noise. You opened the door with such force it blew air. You saw Seokjin covering his face, sweat and his hair sticking to his forehead. You saw the rise of his back rapidly as he breathed quickly. You walked near him and sat on the side of his bed.

"Seokjin. What were you dreaming about? You were yelling." You asked with such concern in your voice that itself made Seokjin feel guilty. You held his hand giving him a sense of comfort.

"I've always had nightmares. I created a potion but I must've forget it. I don't even know when's the last time I've had a good night sleep." Seokjin said holding his own tears in. You felt him hold your hand tighter.

"Seokjin don't worry I will be here. Maybe because it's finals? You're stressed when you go to bed which causes nightmares.. I could help you relax!" You sent a gentle smile as your voice was soft. Seokjin snickered as he looked up with the smiling face.

"Just cuddle me to sleep." Seokjin admits as you nodded as you two laid down, it was obvious to anyone that could see that you and Seokjin had something. A special connection, you saw him as a talented person with his potions.

"Does this mean we are just cuddle buddies or something more?" You raised an eyebrow as Seokjin laughed.

"Shut up."

[brianandthemays]

Love is a Polaroid (Roger Taylor x reader) Part 10

A/N Wow I feel like I”m finally picking up some sort of fan base for this fic! Which is fun! I really hope y’all are enjoying it! I know I’m enjoying writing it, every chapter just gets more any more fun! 

Anywho I wanna actually start a spotify playlist so if you have any song ideas please send them here

I’d rlly love y’alls input so please send me some asks!

As always! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REBLOG AND SEND ME SOME ASK! IT MAKES MY DAY EVERY SINGLE TIME SOMEONE SENDS ME SOMETHING ABOUT THIS FIC AND I’D LOOOOVE TO DISCUSS IT WITH YOU!

Also! HUGE shout out to @sweet-ladyy​ who, with everything going on in her life, took the time to read and edit this. Y’all neeed to read Matters of the Heart it’s SPICING Up omg... 

Word Count: 3.4+

Warnings: Fluff, i guess angst, its cute

Other parts: 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9 

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That was how you somehow ended up in Roger’s car, heading to his family’s home in Norfolk. You were not ecstatic about the offer at first. 

               “Why don’t you come home with me?” His lips were soft on your neck but that didn’t stop you from turning in his grasp and scoffing at him. 

               “I don’t think that's a good idea.” 

But after awhile, Roger wore you down, convincing you to come with him. 

               “They’ll love you!” he insisted. “Think about it, just us for a week.”

You couldn’t deny that the thought of being alone with Roger in his hometown for a week was nice. But you still felt like things were moving quickly. So, you shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself.

               “It’s too soon, we’ve only been together for a few months, Roger!” 

He frowned at you.

               “We can go slow! We have a guest room, you can stay there!” His eyes were pleading you, his lip jutting out in a pout. “Please?” 

And that was it. Now you were sitting in his passenger seat with the window rolled down and the music blaring some Fleetwood Mac song as the wind blew through your hair. Roger’s hand was clasped tightly over yours, with his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the back. You look over at him as he drove, his dirty blonde hair was scattered in the wind and all you wanted to do was run your hand through it. He wore his sunglasses which he insisted helped him see better but you just scoffed at the fact that he bought prescription sunglasses because his normal ones made him look “like a tosser”. 

               “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He smirked, glancing over at you. You blushed but didn’t look away. Instead you raised your eyebrows at him and squeezed his hand once before releasing it to scrambled around in your bag. 

               “Good idea!” You presented the Polaroid that you had snatched from his room before leaving that morning. He flashed a wide smile in your direction as you flashed the camera. “Eyes on the road.” 

He grumbled at you but looked back towards the road. He flipped his hand back over, inviting you to hold onto it. You looked down at his hand an roamed over the course calluses over his fingers. You reached your fingers out and brushed over them softly. His hand was so rough from scars and scratches from various fights and gigs. 

               “They don’t hurt.” 

You glance over at him. His mouth was skewed to one side and his head was tilted as if he were thinking. You looked back down at his hand and shook your head. Your boyfriend could not have rough hands. You reached down in your bag again and this time come up with a small bottle of lotion. 

               “What are you doing?” he questioned, turning his head to look over at you. 

You move his face back towards the road with your hand, giggling softly. “Eyes on the road.” 

He humphed but obeyed. You poured a dot of lotion over his hand and slowly start to rub it in. You moved it over each finger, making sure to fill every crack and rough spot. Roger let out a small groan at the feeling of the cool lotion over his rough hand and you smiled over at him. “Feel nice?” 

               “Yeah…” he responded, stretching out his fingers. You slide yours in with his and squeeze slightly. A silence fell over the two of you once again, comfortable and relaxed. It didn’t take long after that before you started to see signs and buildings leading to Norfolk. You began to feel nervous again. You were meeting Roger’s parents after dating him for 4 months. What were they going to think of you? 

               “Hey, relax.” Roger kissed your knuckles softly. “They’re gonna love you.” 

               “Are you sure this is okay? I could find a hotel nearby. I could--” 

               “Stop.” He cut you off quickly, knowing where this rambling was going. “You’re coming home with me and that’s final.” 

You bit your lip, still feeling uneasy.                                                                                   

  “You’re the type of girl they’ve been begging me to bring home forever,” he mentioned. “Smart, respectful… everything they wanted me to be.”

You looked over at him. Roger was one of the smartest people you knew, he just wouldn’t let himself see that. Respectful wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for him but when it came to you, he was a perfect gentleman. Well, not perfect. There were often times he would say crude things in your ear while you were in public that would make you blush, but he treated you well and never pushed you too far. 

               “Roger, I think you’re being hard on yourself,” you told him. “Your parents love you.” 

He didn’t respond. He did, however, grip his wheel a little tighter. 

Eventually, you and Roger pulled up to a house a little outside the main city.  It was a quaint house, that didn’t quite match Roger’s look. But it was cute and you felt a little more relaxed in the comfortable area. You stepped out of the car and stood in the front lawn. There was a soft breeze flowing and it felt nice, it felt like home. 

               “Ready?” 

You turned and saw Roger holding yours and his bags, smiling softly at you. You nodded and let him take the lead up to the door.  He knocked on the door and came to stand next to you.

“It’s gonna be okay, love,” he insisted, placing a kiss on your temple. “Everything is going to be okay.” 

A moment later, the door opened revealing a women you assumed to be Roger’s mother. A big smile broke out across her face when she saw you. 

               “Roger!” she cried, pulling him into a hug. He grumbled before loosely wrapping his arms around his mother. 

               “Hey, mum.” He kissed her cheek before pulling away and taking your hand, tugging you towards him. “This is (Y/N), remember I told you about her.” 

She smiled at you, glancing up and down over you. You swallowed hard and held out your hand before introducing yourself. “It’s so nice to meet you.” 

               “Oh, honey, you don’t know how happy I am that Roger’s found a nice girl like you.” His mother ignored your hand and pulled you into a big hug, squeezing you tightly.  You yelped slightly before hugging her back, letting out a nervous chuckle. 

               “Mum, please don’t suffocate my girlfriend,” he groaned, embarrassment evident in his tone. 

               “Oh, leave me alone, child.” She released you letting you take a few steps back. You smiled at her, letting her know you appreciated her kindness. “Now, Roger, why don’t you take your things upstairs while I introduce (Y/N) to your father.” 

Roger glanced over at you, checking to see if you’d be okay on your own. You nodded at him, giving him the answer he needed before replying. “Sounds great, mum.” 

She lead you inside, Roger turning right to go up some nearby stairs. You watched him go, trying to shove your anxiety down and out of your brain as you followed his mother into the living space. 

               “Michael, come meet Roger’s girlfriend!” she called into the house. “Why don’t you sit here while I put some tea on you.” 

You nodded, sitting on the couch awkwardly, as she disappeared into the  kitchen. You sat alone in the quiet for a few minutes, looking around the room. It was a nice living space with a few couches and TV sitting on a shelf. It reminded you of what you had at home and a pang of guilt shot through you. You tried to ignore it by looking over at a picture sitting next to the couch. It was a picture of a young Roger that made you smile. He was so young and wild looking. His hair was shooting in all directions and his smile had a mischievous glint in it. 

               “So.” 

The new deep voice startled you, causing you to jump from your seat. You looked over at the new man in the room and saw him smiling at your reaction. 

               “Didn’t mean to scare you, dear. I’m Michael, Roger’s father.” 

Your eyes widened and you stood quickly to come shake his hand. “I’m (Y/N), thank you so much for letting me stay at your house this week, Mr. Taylor.” 

He waved you off, coming to sit in the cushioned chair next to the couch. “It’s Michael, Mr. Taylor was my father. And you’re always welcome here, dear.” 

               “Thank you,” you said you him. “Michael.” 

He smiled at you, and motioned for you to sit. “So, tell me about yourself.” 

You cleared your throat “Well…” desperately trying to think of something to say about yourself. “I’m studying at Ealing… for Public Relations with a minor in Design.” 

               “An art school!” He huffed. “Interesting. I don’t know how I would trust Roger there. Your parents must be very trusting.” 

You looked down at the floor. “Actually, my parents wanted me to stay home. Didn’t think I should bother with a real job.” You laughed lightly, trying to make it seem that you’re not as nervous are you are. 

               “Well, then it was kind of them to pay for your college education,” Mr. Taylor responded. 

               “Actually, I’m paying for myself.” 

               “What?” Roger’s voice came from the doorway. Your head whipped up to his, your eyes meeting. You had tried so desperately to keep your family struggles away from him, it wasn’t his problem. “You’re paying for yourself?” 

               “Um, yeah…” You shifted in your seat. “I’m on a lot of scholarship, though. It’s not a big deal.” 

He didn’t look convince, but as he opened his mouth to say something more but at that moment his mother walked in with a tray of tea and biscuits. You glanced at Michael who was staring apologetically at you. You took one of the cups of tea gingerly into your hand, avoiding Roger’s gaze. You could feel his eyes burning into your head as he wondered why you had left a major detail about your life out of your conversations. 

The rest of the evening went relatively smoothly. Creating conversation easily with his parents and avoiding the subject of school and your parents all together. Over dinner, Roger keep his hand on your knee, rubbing smooth circles into the soft skin on the side. You appreciated the gesture, resting your hand on top of his. 

               “So, how did you two meet?”his mother asked near the end of the meal. You looked over at Roger, smiling at the story. 

               “Well, I had just finished visiting my sister, who goes to Poly, and I had just sat down to read my book when Roger came running around the corner being chased by some--” 

               Roger’s hand squeezed your knee tightly, and you glanced over at him. His eyes silently pleading you to leave out some details of that story. 

               “By some… friends… and he saw me and tripped,” you finished. 

               “Guess you could say I fell at first sight,” Roger joked, trying to take attention away from your slip up. 

His mother cooed affectionately, going on about how romantic it was and how you were just destined to meet. You couldn’t help but stare at Roger, thinking about how circumstantial your meeting was. If you hadn’t been in that exact spot, at that exact time, you would never had met Roger. It made your heart ache just to think about that. 

               “Yeah, we really are lucky,” you murmured thoughtfully.  He looked over at you and gave you a gentle smile, a similar thought probably going through his head. You turned his hand over and slipped your fingers into his, loving the feeling of his hand in yours. 

               “Well, you seem good for him, (Y/N),” his mother concluded finally, pushing away from the table. You went to follow her actions, beginning to pick up your plate but she took it from your hand. “Please, you’re our guest!” 

               “I’m going to go show her around a little bit, ‘kay mum?” Roger pushed away from the table, resting his hand on the small of your back. 

               “Alright, don’t stay out too late, Roger Taylor,” she commanded, putting a hand on her hip. 

               “Mmhmm, alright mum.” He began to lead you out of his house, back into the open air.  He closed the door behind him and took a big breath. 

               “They’re sweet.” 

               “You don’t need to lie to me.” 

               “Roger!” 

He laughed loudly, grabbing your hand and dragging you down the street. You walked closely together, your his head bent to be near yours as you chatted and laughed together. His neighborhood was very small and nothing like the city of London. You liked it though. It was a place you could imagine settling down in. 

               “So this is where Roger Taylor grew up,” you looked up at him, grinning widely. 

He nodded, glancing around, looking fondly at the buildings. “Yeah, this is home.” He pointed at what looked like a primary school. “That’s where I played the drums for the first time. They had a little kit in the music room, and I just liked to make noise so my music teacher let me play.” He smiled at the memory. “Mum wouldn’t let me take my kits to Uni… so I just bought a new one when I got there.” 

               “That’s a cute image,” you commented. “Little Roger banging away at his little drum kit.” 

               “That’s not the only thing I can bang.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

               “That is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

               “C’mon, you walked right into it!” 

The two of you continued on, him pointing out buildings and telling stories along the way. You loved hearing his stories about his childhood. All the places he got in trouble, places he grew up and learned about life. It’s weird coming to his childhood town, he was so different now, at least when he was around you. 

Eventually, you came upon a bridge that was over a road next to a field of flowers. He climbed up on the railing then helped you to sit next to him. He kept his arm around you, helping you feel more stable on the railing as you leaned into him. His fingers brushed your arm softly as the wind blew smoothly through your hair. 

               “Why didn’t you tell me about your parents?” 

You knew the question was coming but it didn’t help you feel less uneasy about the topic. You looked down at your hands, twisting  your fingers around each other, leaning slightly away from him. 

               “It wasn’t important,” you deflected. 

               “Not important? Are you joking?” You couldn’t decipher his tone. Was he angry? Upset? Annoyed? Either way you felt yourself closing in again. You looked back up at him, still feeling uneasy. 

               “No, Roger, I’m not. You don’t need to know about my issues with my family,” you argued. 

               “Yes I do, that’s how a relationship works, isn’t it?” he shot back. “We have to tell each other things.” 

               “And how would you know how a relationship works, seeing as you’ve never had a real one.” 

As soon as the words left your mouth you regretted them. Your eyes widened at your own words as you watched his shoulders deflate. He moved his arm from around your shoulder, bringing his hands to rest in his lap. 

               “You’re right.” His voice was quiet, and it reminded you of that night 4 months ago when you put him to bed after his fight. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, with you.” He looked over at you. “But I’m trying my damn hardest not to let you get away.” 

You felt your eyes glass over as a tear dropped from your eye. Roger reached up and brushed the tear off your cheek. 

               “I just want to know what’s going on up there.” He taps your temple lightly, drawing a small laugh out of you. You wipe your nose, willing yourself not to let anymore tears fall. 

               “My parents… didn’t see the point in me going to a real college,” you began glancing over at him. He nodded, encouraging you to continue. “They just wanted me to go to some community college and get a basic education then settle down somewhere and have five kids.” You chuckled slightly at that. Imagining yourself doing just that, becoming the perfect trophy wife. “So when I told them I wanted to study Public Relations maybe minor in design or journalism. They told me that if I left, not to bother coming back.” You gauged Roger’s reaction. Confusion flooded his face, mixed with some anger so you rested your hand on his leg. “So I left. I’m on almost a full scholarship at Ealing and its grade based. Which is why I can’t afford to fail.” 

               “What about your sister? Isn’t she studying medicine?” He asked, his brain going through everything you told him. 

               “She was the oldest. She got to go to school and live her life. But my mother sheltered me. Thought I was her perfect little girl.” You shook your head. “Guess I’m just a disappointment now.” 

               “Hey, that’s not true.” He cupped your cheek and made you look up at him. “You’re bloody brilliant. You work so hard, and are so determined. You saw right through me the moment you met me, and had me-- quite literally -- speechless. You’re something I’ve never seen before, and everyone around you can see it.” You felt your lip quiver, as your struggled more and more not to break down right there. “You make me want to slow down and watch the world.”

You stared at him for a moment longer before leaning your forehead on his chest. He wrapped his arms back around you, rubbing up and down lightly. 

               “I just want to be here with you, Roger. I don’t want to think about anything else.” You kissed his chest softly. “Not school, not my shitty parents. I just want you.” 

               “You have me, love.” He kissed the top of your hair. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

So there you sat, on the railing of the bridge, wrapped in each other. You sat there until the sun went down behind the trees and the stars began to specle the sky. At that point, he helped you off he railing and guided you back to his house. He guided you up the stairs and into his guest room. He stood, leaning in the doorway watching you walk around the room. 

               “I’m just down the hall if you need anything,” he told you, quirking his lips to the side. 

You walked back over to him, placing your hands on his chest. “Okay.” 

He leaned down and pressed his mouth to yours. You reciprocated for a minute before pulling away and smiling at him. He nodded before turning and walking down the hall away from you. You watched him for a moment before closing the door and settling in. 

You couldn’t sleep. You closed your eyes, tossed and turned but sleep would not come. Your fight with Roger kept playing over in your head. You didn’t know why you said those things. You didn’t know why you always shut people out. You really liked him. You were beginning to think maybe even love him, but it was still too soon. Now, Roger was the only person besides Freddie who knew about your parents. You rolled over again and looked at the clock. It had barely been an hour since you laid down. This was not going to work. 

So you got up. You rolled out of bed and walked down the hall to where Roger told you he would be. You opened his door quietly, trying not to wake him. When you opened the door, he was still awake; his arms behind his head, staring at the opening door. 

               “Can’t sleep?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “I’m sorry.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What for?” 

               “For what I said earlier…” You rubbed the back of your neck. 

He stared at you for a moment and then rubbed his eyes. “C’mere.” 

               “What?”

He opened his arms, and you realize what he meant. So you obliged, crawling in between his arms. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly to his chest and kissing your forehead softly before settling in.  Being in his arms felt so right, so natural and you never wanted to leave.

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I hope y’all liked it!

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