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misserabella · 4 months ago

Text

sick love

spencer reid x fem! reader

pt2!!

synopsis;;

you catch your best friend spencer touching himself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns him on even more. if only you knew he had been dreaming about this moment for his entire fucking life and that he has even planned for it to happen…

cw;; (let’s act as if spencer and reader are the same age (consensual 18) in high school

really perv!spencer, dark themes, spencer uses readers body without implicit consent (i don’t know if it counts as cnc since later we find out she doesn’t mind), somnophilia (if you squint), INDECENT use of cum, stalker behavior, use of masculine sex toys, breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom spencer, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, cream pie, masturbation (m), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, hair pulling, blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

@cafekitsune ‘s separators

Spencer was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed —that too— but in a really perverted way. His sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and him, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were no where to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you invited Spencer for a sleep over.

Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in D.C in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen sleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. He found himself stating for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been shared, his eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.

Full honesty? He didn’t even remember how his dick had gotten that hard nor how it had ended on one of his hands, palm slick in precum as he thrusted in it, bottom lip in between his teeth and soft moans and groans scaping his lips. But he didn’t care. He came so hard that night that he swore he saw stars on your living room’s ceiling.

After that, he of course felt awkward and embarrassed of himself around you. Masturbating to his sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when he found himself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.

He relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against his neck, your tits fully pressed to his chest and whimpers making his cock push against his jeans, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for him to stop as he beat the shit out of them.

He liked to see you cry, but if it wasn’t because of him, he wouldn’t have it. He sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared to get a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up,— and also, who would believe them if they said that the slender nerd of their class was the one that beat them up— so he always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to himself. Like it had to be. You were his, or you’ll be.

You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, “Fuck! I cant found my chapstick.” him shrugging even when he knew that he was, in fact, the thug. Then, he’d go back to his house and open the last drawer of his desk — which he had under key— and take the same chapstick out of his pocket to push it inside along with the other things he had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets… Panties.

He loved them. He almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs… He loved the ones that he stole from the dirty laundry the most, which’s crotch he could push against his nose and lick as he fucked his fist. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove him crazy.

Another thing Spencer loved to do was take photos of you. He had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. He loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat… Being simply you.

But he also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for him. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body —facing away from the door of your bathroom— when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that you’d wear. He even had one of you resting asleep on his lap, lips parted and against his hard cock. He saved some of them on his wallet in case he ever had to take care of a boner when he hung out with you.

He was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to his porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to his cum.

And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of his infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case he ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if he ever felt lonely in his empty house. At first, before his infatuation appeared, he would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for him to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now he snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. He had licked his cum out of your fingers when he had used your hand to masturbate, having to hold in his moans and whimpers. Other nights, he would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push his head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as his hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish his head.

He loved it when you played with his hair, groaning when you’d pull from it when he’d tickle you, and laughing when you’d scream at him for using your good conditioner after a pool day. He was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, using them as lube to fuck his hand while he showered in your house, using then his cum to fill the tubes, evening out the difference.

He would steal food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in his mouth. You’d always whine about it, but he never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving him full access to it when you were full.

Spencer considered himself to be a man with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. He would love to fuck you to his liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call him daddy. He thought of himself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of his numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked him and fucked him, using him like you’d use a fucking toy. He had woke up with a raging orgasm as from his lips fell the word ‘mommy’.

Was he a pervert? Absolutely. Would he ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.

He’d prefer to die with a boner than ever telling you he loved you. He was just terrified of the thought of you pushing him away or ever hurting your friendship.

So after a day full of what he thought of ‘teasing’, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at him for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that he always bought you, he would come to his house and enter his room with a full tent in between his thighs. He would pull out of the back of his closet his fleshlight and spray one of his pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend his other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for his cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And that’s what he’d do, fuck his stupid little toy with his face fully buried on the perfumed one as he imagined you under him, ass up and chest pushed against his bedsheets. His pace was needy, harsh and deep, from his mouth, dirty talking spilling. ‘Yeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.’ ‘That’s a good girl for daddy.’ Those were always the best orgasms, making him fill the toy to the brim when he couldn’t found himself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasn’t your pussy what he fucked in between whimpers.

He sometimes would leave his house’s and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching him red handed.

But they were all just dreams, they weren’t supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there he was, and so were you.

That day he had come with a really painful bonner in between his thighs. You’d been sitting on his lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that you’d be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that he had found himself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your best friends, laughing with them and jumping on his lap when the jokes were too good. Well, he was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found his hair and slowly massaged his scalp, every now and then pulling at his hair when you played with his locks, his hands trembling on your thighs —which spread sideways across from his — thumbs circling your soft skin.

The fact that you were using him. The fact that he felt used by you and only you, was what had him gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Spencer was a good boy, so he just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of his mouth. He felt like breathing once again when you got up from his lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when he no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against him.

“Fuck…” he whimpered when he plopped on his bed, his palm pushing hardly against his pulsing and leaking cock, precum staining his jeans and underwear. He had pulled out from his closet his fleshlight, since he felt that his hand would not be enough today. He had to fuck himself. “Please, fuck me, please…” he was a babbling mess when his tip pushed inside the lubed toy. “Use my cock, baby… Use me…” he found himself whimpering at his mind scenario, in which you would ride him relentlessly, his dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that you’d torture to make yourself cum all over his cock. “Fuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good… Ah, faster.” he was a babbling mess, his hips rutting upwards against his hand movements to fuck his cock deeper in his toy.

“Spence!!!” you had called from downstairs as you opened his unlocked front door. Spencer always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a book he had been dying to read for months and for which he had cried after finding out that it had been sold out. After seeing just how badly he wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the city’s center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. “I have a surprise for you!!” you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didn’t hear and answer from him. “Spencer?” you called out again, the soft sound of his voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving him a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching his room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.

“Fuck, just like that. Faster, please…” was he with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Spencer fucking with some random girl that wasn’t you. You’ve liked him for years on end, since the first time that he held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But he never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasn’t friendly, so, at the end, —being too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendship— you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that he had to be just what he was; your best friend.

Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached his slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was he fucking, promising yourself that you’d leave once you’ve taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out he was not fucking anyone but himself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as his hips fucked upwards, inside his clear flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from his lips new groans and moans fell. Spencer was fucking touching himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You needed to get away from there. Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You’d go back to your house and forget all about it… Or that’s what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.

He looked so hot and pretty all needy… Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, glasses crooked, eyebrows pushed together as his head fell back against his pillow, hair messy all over it. His hand was slow, pushing the toy down on his cock in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see his long and thick dick, his thrusts making the lube’s wet sounds fill the room. “Ah, fuck…” his voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadn’t bit down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friend’s lips. “Fuck, y/n…, mommy…, please, fuck, fuck, fuck…” your eyes widened, not only because…, fuck, Spencer was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because he had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Spencer’s movements stopped, his gaze moving to his opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and book in hand.

He quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under his breath when he sat up, a pillow hiding his hard and leaking cock, which was twitching at the sight of your trembling legs. “Fuck, y/n, I…” he didn’t even know what to say. You had caught him, caught him fucking himself with his goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught him moaning your name. He felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught him… Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at him while he pleasured himself. He had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. “How much did you hear?” he cursed when you didn’t answer, cheeks reddening and cock twitching under the pillow, leaking against his thigh.

“Mommy.” you said, making his head snap back to you, a frown on his face, eyes widening when you let the book fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to his bed.

“W…What?” fuck.

“ ‘Mommy’. That’s what you called me.” you smirked, eyes falling to his lap when he pushed the pillow further down. “Who would think that Spencer, the Genius Spencer Reid, would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as he fucks himself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.” he stuttered as he shook his head.

“It’s not what it seems like, I…”

“You what?” you pushed, thumb and index gripping his chin so his eyes would find yours. “Are you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?” he moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. “Mmh? Answer me.” you ordered and he whimpered, your pussy clenching when he shook his head and cried out a ‘no’. “ ‘No’ what?” your lips brushed against his, teasing him to get out of him what you wanted.

“No, mommy.” you pulled his hair when he tried to kiss you, making him groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. “Please…” he pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on his lap.

“Only good boys get a kiss, Spence.”

“I’m a good boy…” he was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussy…

“Oh yeah?” he nodded, his tongue dampening his lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered his naked body. “The why don’t you show me?” he shivered when your lips latched to his neck, your tongue pressing against his skin in open mouth kisses that led to his ear. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?” he moaned, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he nodded, making you smirk. “Then go ahead, baby, let me see.” you pulled away as he pushed the pillow off his lap, dick twitching below a pool of precum that dripped from his tip.

In the state he was… He would do anything for you. He would even fuck himself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.

He moaned when you sat down on his desk’s chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. His hands were shaking when his fingers gripped around the clear silicone or his toy, whimpering when he noticed your eyes on his twitching dick.

You had seen dicks before, but none of them was as beautiful as Spencer’s. It was big, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew he could give it to you, that he would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on his shaft with your tongue and take him so deep on your throat you’d need to swallow when he came in your mouth. “Aw, poor Spence…” you cooed at his twitching cock, red tip and tight balls. “Caught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesn’t it baby?” he nodded, tears on his eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. “Are you gonna cum on that cup for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Spencer?” he moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to his reaction. He liked that.

Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.

“Yes, yes, yes…” he muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing his cum making him go crazy. He whined when his leaking tip brushed against the artificial hole, his lip being tortured by his teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for him to see. “Fuck…” he cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breasts— hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingers— and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. “Shit, y/n.”

His dick was twitching like crazy with every new and fast thrust of his hips, pleads falling of his lips. ‘I need you. Need you so bad…’ ‘Please mommy…’ ‘I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum…’

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum?” You clicked your tongue when he nodded, chuckling at his behavior. “Look at how pathetic you look.” he whimpered when you had made your way back to his side, standing in front of him and making his head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on his hair, making his hips stutter and breathy whines rip his throat. “Hold it. I haven’t even told you where to cum yet.” he cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. “Fuck, you are too fucking loud.” you said and he had to squeeze his dick to not come when you pushed your damped panties into his mouth, slicked crotch flat against his tongue. His muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, his eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when he could take a taste on just how sweet you were. He choked on the lace when you startled his legs. His eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for him to see thin strips of slick connect them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. “Here. Cum on my pussy.” you said, leaning on the skin of his neck to suck a hard hickey on his flesh.

You didn’t even had to say it twice, his hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when his white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, his mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on his tip. You hummed as you stroked his hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across his chest. He was still fucking hard. “Good boy…” you cooed, loving just how fucked out he seemed, moaning when you sat on his cock, his length in between your wet folds and his tip bumping against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” he cried out with your panties on his mouth when you rocked your hips against his. That’s all it took for him to cum for a second time, right after his first orgasm.

You moaned, feeling his dick twitch and nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy due to the amount of his cum that coated it. “You came again, baby?” he nodded, his cock quickly getting hard again to your humping. “Fuck, Spencer…” you pulled your panties away from his mouth, wanting to hear his groans. “Look at you, making a mess of my cunt.”

“Fuck, y/n…” your name sounded so wonderful falling from his lips… “Please, can I… Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. I’ll make you feel good, I promise, I’ll be good…” you pulled his bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. “I promise. I promise mommy…” your thumb brushed your own lips when he leaned in, pupils blown and need on his hazel thin irises. He looked high. And he was, high on his favorite drug: you.

You nodded, giving in, and gasped when he had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, his hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, his hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a ‘The prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, fuck.’. You were tugging on his hair as he played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering his lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which he quickly discarded it away on his bedroom floor. He pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on his pillow —the same he had fucked multiple times while thinking about you—, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. He moaned, dick twitching, ‘cause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for him.

He didn’t waste time in parting your thighs —which he took his time with, and of course he would, he had been dreaming about making them bleed for years now—, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on his hair. “Spencer…” you whined when he bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. He was so drunk on your skin… He could spend his whole life kissing it that he would never get fucking tired of it. But his teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed his mouth on it now. And he seemed to get it when you pushed him further against it, his hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above his shoulders as he sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, him due to just how much he had dreamed about the taste of your pussy —which he had tasted before, but only clothed— and you to how many times you had touched yourself with his mouth in mind. His name falling off your lips on a whimper had his hips rocking against the duvet as he ate you out sweet and slow.

It was only when his fingers found their way to your entrance that he started to eat you just like you needed and he always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming his name when his fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving to hit your g spot as his tongue circled your clit. Spencer knew how to use it, really well. So well that he had you tipping the edge in less than ten minutes. He was like a starved man, burying his face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in his tongue. “Fuck, Spencer, I…” you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on his hair. He knew you were close by how moans fell of those pretty lips of yours over and over again. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, Spencer crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

He moaned, begging for it. “Please cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, please…” you whined when his tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Spencer drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled his bedroom.

You mewled when once you’ve come down from your high, his tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on his wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called from him. He whimpered when you tugged on his hair, pulling him away from your pussy as you sat up. He looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. “Please, just a little bit more, mommy…” he begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on his mouth. “Please, I need it…” your eyes fell to his twitching and leaking cock, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where he had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took him in your hand, making him gasp.

“I’ll let you choose where to cum next, Spencer.” you said, your other hand coming to his cheek to rub the flush on his skin. “I could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourself…” his balls tightened to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped his face left him to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for him to see. “Or you could cum inside of me.” his eyes rolled to the back of his head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. “What do you say, Spence? Where do you want to cum, baby?” he was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling of his lips as he leaned on you, eyes on your own.

“Inside.” he found himself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering him the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had him reeling.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered against his lips, him nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with his own. “You wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?” you gave him a sweet smile when he moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of his mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. “Then come here, Spence.” he was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive him there, hands on his neck when he leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which he didn’t even need since you were now entering your tongue in his mouth, making him groan. Fuck, he could come just with that. With your tongue on his mouth, your body against him and the thought that you were only letting him fuck you to seek your own release. He moaned on your open mouth when you took his dick to align it with your entrance, which twitched at the feeling of his tip. You needed him, and you needed him now. “Fuck, baby, please fuck me Spencer, please, please…” you whimpered, and he didn’t wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the other’s as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight, mommy, so tight… Shit. I’m gonna cum.” your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving him full access to your neck, which he kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. He was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. His stretch had you delirious, his tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of his back, making him groan. The two of you were taking your time, him getting used to the feeling of your tight and warm walls trying to milk his twitching dick and you to the feeling of his heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges you’d only dreamed of getting to. He groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against him. “Please y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to… I need to…”

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good boy for me and let me use your cock, alright?” he whimpered at your words, and in less than one second he had you gripping to his back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. “Oh fuck, yeah Spencer, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me…”

He was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. His hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on his cock, just as desperate as him. He was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. “Fuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyou…” he was a mess. Both of you were. His thrusts had you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in him. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrust, making your nails dig up on his back, probably leaving marks.

“Fuck, Spencer, fuck, I’m close, shit, I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered on his ear, making him fuck you harder.

“Cum on my cock, mommy, please, please… Use me. Use me…” he begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over his dick as he fucked you dumb, his hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.

The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was his name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. “Spencer, Spencer, Spencer…”

“Shit, Imma cum, I’m cumming so fucking hard… Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonna…, fuck!” his thrusts became sloppier. “Im gonna cum, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming.”hips thrusted one, two, three more times before his dick twitched inside of you, filling you so full you choked on air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when some of it spilled out. He was whimpering ‘mommy’ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting your insides in the purest white.

“Shit, fuck, Spencer. So good…” you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. “Spencer!” Though you really couldn’t even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against his pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when he pulled you up from your ass, his newly hard cock ramming inside of your full of cum pussy. You cried out when his hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, were you, ‘mommy’?” you could hear the teasing in his voice. “I’m sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didn’t you?” you couldn’t really comprehend how his mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Spencer had you cumming so hard on his cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around his dick in anticipation. “Well, I hope you did, ‘cause now is my fucking turn.”

i needed to.

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irisinluv · 3 months ago

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Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? PT 1

All I could do was stare at my reflection. This had to be a joke. I was going to wake up in my bed, right this instant.

“FUCK!”

Ok, so, pinching myself hurts. That’s fine. This is like. Some sort of lucid dream. What do they say to do if you’re lucid dreaming? Oh, that’s right, put your finger in your palm, it’ll phase through!

I resist the urge to scream as my finger meets solid flesh.

You see, I’m not in the right body. Or the right world from what I can tell. No, I’m supposed to be back home, waking up in a panic as I realize my alarm didn’t go off cuz my phone died after I stayed up way too late reading manga.

But of course, I’m not late to work, I’m in a lavish bedchamber right out of the latest webcomic I’d been reading! And by the looks of it…. I’m the crown princes crazy fiancé! As much as I love reading about the Isekai trope, I never wanted to be in one! And come on- as the Yandere Villain!? Couldn’t this at least be original? There’s hundred of stories just like “my next life as a villainess,” why couldn’t I be like… a stable hand or something? Ugh. Ok. Think!

I need to get home. Do the protagonists ever get back home in the stories I read? I pace around my room and rack my brain over every webcomic I’ve ever read, every manga I waited in line for, every anime I binged, even the unfinished manhwas! I can’t think of a single fucking one where they get home?

Well this isn’t going to stop me. I have a cat who’s going to absolutely flip if she’s not given fresh kibble in the morning. She has enough in her bowl for another 2 days but she needs it topped off ok! She’s a princess! I can’t be stuck here! Who’s going to throw her pompom toy for her if I’m not there???

What did all these have in common? What’s the barebones trope layout? Ok let’s see

1) person either died or falls asleep and wakes up in a new world…. Check

2) person is the villain!…. Check

3) to avoid the characters terrible death, person tries to change the story, ends up being new protagonist…

Ohhh… hey…. Do these Isekai characters ever just…. Play along? Even the “reincarnated as a baby” ones, they only play along till they’re old enough to try to run away or rework the political structure of the entire city. Maybe that’s it. Make it to the books natural end, and you’ll wake up where you belong. It’s like when you get part of a song stuck in your head. Play the whole song, and it’ll get out.

Ok, I’ve trained most of my adult life for this- I can totally ace this trope! I just have to stalk the crown prince, act totally in love with him, and be a bitch to the female lead. Then my finance will leave me, I’ll do some crazy dramatic act to try to kill the female lead, and then I’ll be exiled or executed, and wake up to feed my cat. How hard can it be?

Hard. It’s very hard.

Where the hell did he go!? My fiancé, the crown prince Eric, was JUST HERE. I swear! He turned that corner back there and then went down this hall… at least I think it was this hall? Ugh! This is impossible! For someone with such loud shoes and an armed escort, you’d think he’d be easier to follow! Now my feet just hurt. They don’t make these fancy shoes to run around the castle all day. They’re meant to daintily peek from beneath my many skirts as I host a tea party or some shit.

Ok. I’ve got this! I’ll just peek into each room until I find him, maybe I can get a better feel for the layout, or maybe find his office and see if he has a schedule or a day planner or something I can use to make this whole stalking thing easier.

I begin snooping, and it’s a bit of thrill to be honest! Back in my real life, I’m the kind of person to hide a wrapper deep in the trash can if I’m babysitting, sitting on the floor playing a game on my phone after the kid goes to bed rather than “making myself at home” the way the parents insisted as they showed me how to access Netflix. I’ve never been a snooper. Now…. Well. It’s totally on brand for this character! I’m not me, I’m a psycho lovesick fool! I giggle a bit at that as my fingers trail over a shelf of beautiful pottery in some sort of sitting room.

“What’s so amusing dearest?”

I practically screech as my heart leaps to my throat and I whirl around, and see the very person I’d been searching for has snuck up on ME…. That’s so unfair!

“W-what? O-oh! Nothing! I was just- uh, admiring the pottery?”

I stutter out as I try to recall how to act like a human being while simultaneously trying to stop feeling my own pulse in my ears. The idiot has the nerve to LAUGH! Full on snort and everything!

“What are you doing in this wing anyways? Weren’t you meant to be out riding today?”

Shit. I was so busy trying to figure out his schedule, I didn’t consider maybe the body I was shoved into had a schedule of her own. Ok. Play it cool- I’ve got this!

“Yes, well, I decided I wasn’t in the mood and wanted to stay in today instead.”

His brows furrow

“Oh, but you love riding? Are you feeling ill? I can fetch the royal physician for you if you-“

“No! That’s- that’s quite alright! I simply wanted a change of schedule, that is all. Um… what about you? What are your plans for the day?”

He looked a bit surprised at that, and a small smile danced on his lips.

“I was just going to the library to do some paperwork, boring stuff really, and then of course our dinner at its regular time.”

I nod like that means anything to me. Ok think, if I were crazy in love with this man, what would I say?

“Would you like some company? Reading in the library sounds really nice, maybe we could have some tea as well?”

Ok. I’m already fucking this up. He looks confused…. God damnit …. I knew I shouldn’t have skimmed over those early chapters- but the translation was shit ok!?

“Well… I’d actually love that. But are you sure? You haven’t exactly shown interest in reading, and you’ve never requested something like this before…. In fact I don’t think I can recall the last time we’ve interacted outside of dinner or a scheduled social event in… well. Ever.”

Wait…. What? Isn’t my character like goo-goo-ga-ga over him? Are you telling me she never asks to just… spend time with her lover? They only talk during dinner and parties or whatever?

“Of course, I think it’ll be relaxing! Just lead the way!”

My brain is working overtime as I smile politely at him as we reach the library and I pretend to browse for books. I’m missing something here. What is-

Oh. Shit. That’s right. I’m supposed to be really insecure and awkward about him. That’s why she stalks him- she spends all her free time obsessing over this man from the shadows, threatening the competition…. Yet chokes up when it comes to how to act natural. Her inferiority complex is what drives her entire character. And then to him, they’re just two nobles in an arranged marriage who speak on dull subjects like the weather and horse rides…. And who barely interact.

This must have been a real big shake up, she always stays out of sight, they never run into each other by chance. And she certainly never would ask to sit and read with him…. Maybe watch him do his work from a hidden keyhole somewhere, but that’s right…. She IS more of a traditional lady with her hobbies. She was raised to be the perfect noble wife, so naturally, her hobbies include things like dancing, needlepoint, and horse riding. The only studies she’s interested in are etiquette and things that noble ladies are supposed to know.

Well…. Shit. That’s so like me to already have fucked this up. But that’s ok. That’s ok- he’s going to meet the female lead and fall in love and so I just have to be the obstacle they need to overcome. Surely the details don’t matter too much…. It’s my first day in the job ok? Not everyone’s perfect!

I find a book that honestly actually sounds interesting, it’s historical, but it’s giving Hellen of Troy, the closest to a dark romance I think I’ll get from an academic personal library like this. I settle into what looks like the comfiest chair in the central area, and begin reading. The prince and I exist comfortably, the only sound being the scratch of his pen, and the occasional rustle of paper as he flips a document or I finish a page. We continue like this for several hours until he puts down his pen and clears his throat, getting my attention.

“I know it’s a long way from dinner…. But I was thinking I’d grab something light for a mid day meal and then take a walk about the gardens …. Would you care to join me?”

Honestly, some lunch and pretty royal gardens sounds like so much fun, so I agree. As we begin walking, I ponder how I can recover from all this.

You know what.. this can totally still go to plan. This is just me being the evil villain and sinking my claws into him! The female lead will appear, and I’ll reveal my true, nasty side to her! She’ll have to fight to save the prince from his marriage to me!

*insert evil laughter!*

“You’re smiling.”

“W-what?”

“A smile. It suits you. You’ve been doing that a lot today….. I like it.”

Ok and now I’m blushing. I go to reply when I suddenly find myself weightless for a moment, and then hit the ground with a hard thump.

“Ow! What the-!?”

My eyes snap up and glare at this pretty blonde girl who just rammed into me, and sent me flying

“Do you not know how to watch where you’re going!? Owww…. Ugh.”

Ok I’m sorry I’m usually a nice and understanding person but I’ve never been literally knocked over before! Who does that to a person?

Eric helps me to my feet and sends a reproachful glare toward the girl, asking me if I’m alright with most concerned look…. And the girl gasps and says,

“C-crown prince Eric! I apologize! I’d didn’t recognize you!”

She drops into a curtsy and lowers her eyes all demure and modest as if she hadn’t just bulldozed me. I send an incredulous look toward Eric…. She… didn’t see HIM? I’m the one she took out? He gives me an equally puzzled look and so I decide, you know what, fuck it. I’m this evil person in this world…. I need to act like it!

“And not recognizing his highness is an excuse for taking out the princess consort, soon to be crown princess? Are you blind or just daft?”

Oh my god I really just called someone daft! This feels like when you stay up late thinking all the witty comebacks you could’ve used against your high school bullies, except actually using them in the moment!

And Eric is being a sweetie and letting me handle this, waiting expectantly for blondie to answer me, just prompting her,

“Well?”

“Forgive me…. Princess consort…. You are right. My oversight in inexcusable. It appears neither of us were looking where we were going. I hope we can start fresh!”

I scoff- that’s it? Who does this bitch think she is? Yes, I was looking at Eric, but I was going a walking pace, who rounds a corner with so much force that you knock someone over?

Suddenly something clicks- oh shit! This is the female lead!!!! This scene happened in the story, just without the prince here. This is good, that means this is on track. Although I gotta say- I was much more on the female main characters side when reading it. Now, I just feel like she’s one of those mean girls in high school who’s not *technically* doing anything mean. Anyways- what was I supposed to say? That’s right.

“Yes…. Well. I’m sure we won’t be seeing much of each other anyways. If you’ll excuse me-“

Nailed ittttt…. Now her line?

“Well, actually…. My name is Lady Cressida, and I’ll be staying in the place for several months as my father is a foreign ambassador overseeing trade agreements with his highness the king. So I imagine we will be seeing *plenty* of each other. That goes for you too your highness! So please- forgive me, I look forward to getting to know each of you better!”

Oh that’s so cool, seeing her recite the lines from the story. But ok- I have a role to play as well. I scoff and grab Eric’s arm, pulling him behind me as I storm off, playing the part of entitled lover, stuck up and irritated at this ambassadors daughter who DARED to speak to my love.

Yea, this will work, Eric will think Cressida is a genuine sweetie, and see me as being the unreasonable bitch who’s refusing to accept her apology, or apologize for not looking where I was going either. And now I’m manhandling him- totally unlady like. God I’m killing this aren’t I? Minimum wage job and demanding cat, here I come!

What I don’t see, as I lead Eric by the arm, is the cold glare he shoots towards Cressida, before smiling down at our connected hands, an unreadable look in his eyes.

Part 2

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the-tarot-witch22 · 4 months ago

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Your future spouse late night thoughts about you 18+ - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me! | My Paid Readings | My insta

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

Note : This reading is based on my intuition and channeled messages from tarot cards.

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you guys - The magician, 6 of cups, wheel of fortune and 4 of swords)

Their thoughts about you is quite solemn or like emotional, they are quite a softie when it comes to you honestly, i wanted to give something 18+ for you guys but the energy here is so pure honestly or atleast that's how they wanna start with, i feel they don't want to scare you away just yet, like not much r rated haha, but i will channel everything i can, okay so i feel they are quite in awe or in love, like they want to meet you a hopeless romantic energy, looking at moon asking universe or upper power if they will meet you soon, they want to hurry honestly, I heard "you're mine baby" "no matter whatever you are doing right now, whoever is with you", "i am the one for you hope you know that", they want to kiss you a lot, like every part of you, want you to feel loved and you belong with them, like your body, soul has a name of their engraved on it, that's how much they want you to feel at home, at first they were being quite secretive not opening everything or feelings they have for you but I feel they are trying now, I also feel or heard that they want to push you on bed, tie you up, watch you while they fuck every part of you, they are sweet as hell and as well as horny for you, they want you to watch while you suck them, they want to fuck you deeper so you forget everything but them, They definitely want to put you on pedestal in every way they can, they wanna give you after care, touch every part of you they crave your soul and body, they feel they have knownn you for lifetimes, a literal past life connection here, yet they don't have you, they miss you, your time with them , i heard it's honestly funny "how someone can never meet and yet crave for each other", they wanna lay in your arms relax with you, watch silly rom coms, horror anything you desire, but they want you very badly, "when we meet i will tie you up till you get bored of me" in a very teasing tone, he is quite balanced individual in both his sexual desires and emotional desires.

WoW pile they are quite a romantic, huh? you guys deserve it! they are waiting for you too I feel you will meet them very soon.

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you guys - 5 of swords, 8 of wands, 4 of wands and 6 of swords)

Okay so first thing i feel is very passionate, like they just want to fuck the soul out of you, holy shit, starting with big words and love for you, they are definitely not feel like themselves when they are with you, like they are different person "i cant control my feelings, my desires i have for you" how my body reacts when it sees you, it needs you as much as i do, I also heard i am quite jealous that you are not with me right now, is it because it's a payback for me to meet you late?, i hear them sighing a lot, they want to compete with everyone who has ever been with you even your fictional crushes like they can't make you feel like i do, they are definitely very competitive, their thoughts about you at night is quite filled with lust and desire, i see a scene where they are letting off their steam jerking off with the desire and spark they feel within themselves how they just want you, and only you I also feel they want to be very rough with you like just show you who you belong to, for some of you, you both are into hardcore sex, and they wanna make you cum with their mouth, they want you to sit on them, show that little pretty thing which is wet just for them, they want to tease you a lot too, like not letting you come at first, i feel they want to hear you say "please let me come", i see them smirk a lot, satisfied how much you react to them, "keep running away from me, but you can't go far because our souls are intertwined, my darling" gosh pile 2 they are quite very hungry for you, they want to fuck you all day or night touch you in a way no one ever has, they want you to fuck in the mirror they might want to record these moments for you both so you have special memory of it, more than their pleasure , they want YOU to feel pleasure in a way that no one ever had, they want to use dildo on you such foreign objects, i also feel they want you to wear vibrator while you go out with them, and when they feel jealous they will turn it on, i heard "my dirty little slut".

Wow pile 2 they are quite fiery aren't they, they just had so much to say to you their thought about you is so deep and filled with love and lust. Love it for you guys!

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you guys - 10 of pentacles, 7 of wands, 6 of wands, 5 of cups, ace of swords and 8 of wands)

Okay so first thing I feel is they are missing you like a lot, when i started doing your reading and cards my heart felt sad for some reason they could be yearning you and they definitely want me to tell you "how much your absence in their life is impacting them", they are quite turned on by thought of you, your body is their temple, they want to worship you, they want to feel comfortable with them sexually or non sexually, they just want you to feel at home with them, they are feeling quite lonely without you, i heard "i love her laugh", their thoughts about you is quite desperate, but okay let me channel something 18+ for you, they are quite needy for your body, they want you to touch yourself or you to touch them or their intimate parts, they want to gently fuck you, I feel they are quite sensible or have gentleman thoughts for you. They are quite respectful, i also feel they wanna put efforts while they fuck you, politely touch you like you will break in their arms, they are quite caring, and soft for you and with you. i also feel they would want to or love to suck on you breasts to make you feel very good. They want to hear you scream their name, They think of you as their biggest achievement their prize, that they got for good or past deeds, they also want to be sneaky with you like I see a place where you are both only and emotions are so overflowing that you end up having sex their, a beach at night, or some abandoned or deserted place, their energy is quite calming they even calmed me down, they want everyone to see you belong to them, As I said they could be very sad for you like they miss you, "needing you by their side energy", they want you to know that sex isn't only two people having orgasm its more than that, its filled with love spark, connection, when they think of you all they want is to rest by your side, just be their while you do your own thing, they want you to know they have much more to show you when you guys actually meet! You guys can check out pile 1 too!

Good luck pile 3 xD! Their thoughts weren't much 18+ but more sweet. And I feel it's because they take sex much more seriously or not much openly, so that could be why this pile ended up being sweet lol.

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

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wintrwinchestr · 6 months ago

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an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on.

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression.

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand.

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it.

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state.

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap.

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows.

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you.

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches.

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against.

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can.

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain.

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…”

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is.

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller smut

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groovyangelkisses · 2 months ago

Note

okay so I can’t help but get the lyric “washing my hair, doing the laundry, late night tv, I want you only” by Miss Lana Del Rey herself out of my head. I keep thinking about it having something to do with Logan! More like X1 Logan (but any era you want) and maybe reader just saying it to Logan during soft and gentle sex after a long day? I’m feeling very cliche tonight. (love your writing btw)🎀

thank you for the kindness, sweetheart! this has been slowly corroding my soul recently so, absolutely yes. this is sooooo cage fighter!logan! 💋ྀིྀི

this is my first long, smutty fic. please be gracious with myself, and my work!

beautiful, deep normality.

nsfw— minors dni, please ₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ : my ode to lana x logan, not proofread, SMUT, oral (f recieving), copious "i love yous" during sex, fem!reader, cage fighter!logan, established relationship, spit (with love)

3:08 am. and no sign of him yet. cradling a bin of laundry to your hip, you ignore the exhaustion pulling at your shoulders, waltzing through your small home, tinted blue by a lonely moonlight. the small tv in the corner, usually crowded by a grumpy logan in his favorite recliner, hums lowly— static on static, you feel electric waiting for him to come home.

the velcro rollers lightly pull on the baby hairs at the nape of your neck, and tracing your fingernails over the offending pull does nothing to quell the stinging. the house feels empty without the presense of logan, without the feel of his towering being lurking on shadows of the walls or placing weight onto your bed. your chest bounces, up & down, as a glimpse of a life without logan settles on you like the soft weight of his white beater you wear.

waiting up for logan was never an easy feat, in fact, it's the hardest part of your day. waiting for greatness, for comfort, for ease and safety had the hairs on your arms pricking in anticipation. i wonder if he's thinking of me, you pause your folding minstrations to ponder, though you know the answer. "always am babydoll," he'd say, "just can't seem to shake you."

the scrape of the front door breaks you out of your trance, you turn, a small smile resting on your sleepy face. the house seems warmer, the nauseating blue of the grainy tv seems brighter— all because of him.

logan looks down as he enters the small space, shaking his keys in his left hand as he shrugs off his denim jacket; lined with the gorgeous, warm flannel pattern you sewed in for him a few weeks ago.

he doesn't meet your eyes as he toes his boots off, softly moving to his chair with the silent shuffle of his socks on the wooden floor. he plops himself down with an exasperated head shake, leaning his head back to rest when you notice it. a deep cut on his lip, healing slower than the rest of him.

"baby? oh, baby, what happened?" you coo, rushing over to him to perch yourself on the arm of the recliner— your usual spot. staring ahead at the late night talk show on the television, his hand instantly assumes its place, resting on your hip as he sighs, "'s nothin. shit day, is all." you nod, understanding why he blankets himself with silence; his work life is reduced to hit, after hit, all to provide for you & him.

your long nails scratch the hair at the nape of his neck, a desperate attempt for him to meet your eyes. his eyes flutter closed, the bright neon of cable swiping across his exhausted, sweaty face like a kaleidoscope. your other hand reaches up, lazily, gently, swiping across his face & tracing his beard. logan growls low in his chest with affection, and for a moment you think he'll meet your eyes— abandon the shame of his labor, the metal corroding sadness that a girl as beautiful as you is stuck with him in this shitty apartment. but he doesn't. this must've been a terribly exhausting day for him, you think to yourself.

with a light tap to your hip, his lips curled inward, logan stands and stretches his arms above his head. his triceps tense as he attempts to find relief, staring at the ceiling as he decompresses. he's too far away, much too far away.

"lo?" you rise from the chair, your his beater riding up across your tummy as you gaze up at him. "hm?" his hand rubs across his hairy cheeks and chin, his eyes finally opening to look at you.

in this light, his stature looks larger than usual. broad shoulders highlighted by the moonlight filtering in from the broken blinds. chest heaving in and out of the light reflecting from the kitchen— making a stripe across his white beater, in and out with his breath. his hands twitch, making a fist & releasing with the scattered applause on the television, and his socks dig into the soft carpet beneath his feet. stale sweat glistens on his face, pooling in the hollow of his collarbone as the overhead fan slightly blows hair across his forehead— the gel you put in for him this morning having melted from his match tonight.

and you want him. the thought of the weight of him on top of you consumes you, for a moment. so big, so scary and mean to the outside world, but so gentle to you. he needs that gentleness now, you can see it in his loving, hazel eyes. you & he stare at one another for a few beats before you speak, your hair rollers clacking as you maintain, "i want you, logan."

he was thinking it, too. just.. after the matches he went through today, he had no idea how to tell you just how much he wants you, too. logan's breath stutters, the strip of light from the kitchen bleeds into his shirt as he moves closer to you. eyes softening with desire, you double down, "i want you on me, logan. all the time." your head bobs as you nod, needing him to understand just how much you adore him.

breathless, though you've both been in this position many times, he wraps his arm behind your back, pulling you into him desperately. it seems that he's finally taken his first breath of the night, like he's finally free and safe— no longer King of the Cage when he's with you. logan's hand slides down your trembling arm, moving yours to rest above his heart as he cradles your head to him, "so sweet to me. i don't understand it."

"don't need you to, lo. just need you to know it... know that i want you. always will" sighing into his chest, you tear up. he pulls you back, a piece of hair falling over his forehead as he gazes down at you. in the darkness of your home, he tears up too, kissing you with both hands cradling your face, "take care'a me. need you so much right now" he stutters between kisses.

it's a blur, the descent into your bedroom, logan guiding you backwards as he kisses you. somehow, despite the lack of vision and control, this is the safest you've felt all day. he lays you down on your bed, hair framing your face as you smile up at him. and one finally stretches across his face, too. "beautiful. too fuckin' beautiful, ah christ, you make me ache" logan smiles, hand coming up to touch his chest in a movement of genuine infatuation. and you giggle at him, and his smile grows wider as he nips at your collarbone, hands framing your face like he is almost afraid to touch you.

the curlers dig into the back of your head as he moves down your body, lips dragging across cotton and skin. "did'ya think of me today, bub?" he asks, mid sniff of the skin of your womb, warm from his touch. you nod down at him, a little embarassed and flushed. "yeah?" logan smiles "when? when'dya think of me?" he pauses his movements to relish in your shyness— ever the tease. closing your eyes, your hand falling across them as you giggle, you place one hand in his hair and sigh, "washing my hair... doing the laundry... every second, lo" sweet, loving eyes stare up at you mid-kiss as the moment grows serious, you repeat "every second." logan grunts in response, calloused fingers peeling your white panties down your legs as his hands run down them— eager to touch as much of you as he can at once.

placing your legs over his strong, but weary shoulders, he leans in to lick a stripe up your cunt, gooey spit warming your thighs. logan sighs breathlessly into you, kissing and nipping at your button as his eyes close in relaxation. this is just as much for him, as it is for you.

his blunt fingernails dig into the sheets beside you, afraid to touch, ever gracious with his meal. you bring his hand to yours, locking fingers as he looks up at you, tongue never ceasing his adoring attention as you writhe and pant. making love to logan is one thing, one soul-shattering experience, but this? this is logan making love to you with the same mouth he claims never knows what to say. but every word is gospel to you, every prod of his tongue, as well.

"so sweet" he finally speaks, voice gruff as he releases your hand to cup your lovehandles, holding you in place. your release is right there, his nose leaving lovebumps on your clit as he swirls his tongue, dipping into a spot made by the universe only for him. you squeal, legs kicking his shoulders, as you attempt to back up from the intensity. but logan holds you in place, yanking you back to the edge of the bed, his heavy arm draping across your tummy to keep you in place as you wail. "c'mon sweet girl, 's okay, i can take it," he whispers, sloppily kissing your folds, big thumb reaching down off ur tummy to rub your clit in the sweetest little circles.

you cry out, mouth forming an "o" shape as you finish, logan mocking your face with a growing smile overtaking the wide-eyed "o", "'s a good girl... good girl, baby." bringing his thumb to his mouth, he licks the rest of you off of the pad quickly, moving back up to watch your face as you breathe and gather yourself.

the weight of him on top of you feels so good, so fulfilling, so right. you're so interlinked with one another, that as you whine from the aftershocks, he whines lowly with you unconsciously— your pleasure is his, it seems. with a hand behind his neck, fingers once again twirling in the hairs at the nape, you pull him into a kiss as he groans. "so good" he chides, "want you all around me, honey."

he pushes his jeans and boxers down, throwing his belt to the floor with a clink & raising his eyebrows in slight shock at the sound. you laugh, and he looks back at you with a flushed face, bad day seeming further and further away as the end-of-summer air floats in from the window. your back arches as he places his pillow beneath your hips, always wanting you to be as comfortable as possible.

logan lays fully on top of you, kissing you as you drag your nails down his back. pulling back, he exhales in pleasure at the drag— a welcomed pain, compared to the punches he'd taken, to appear normal, of course, at the bar. his hand trembles as he leans down, holding his cock in his hand as he drags it across your weeping cunt.

logan's breath falters, catching in his chest like a tied satin bow, "you love me?" he asks you. "y-yes... so much.. so so much, logan" you remind him, growing desperate for all of him, always.

"you-you want me?" his eyes are closed as he asks you, too afraid to look, too afraid to face the possibility that maybe one day, you won't. you cup his face, feeling the dried down mixture of his spit and your pleasure on his beard. no words are spoken as you nod, looking into your lover's eyes with sincerity. he mirrors your nod, interlinked as always, and slowly pushes into you, eyes clenching shut as he grits out "fuuuck, my baby."

logan bottoms out, letting you catch your breath from the stretch of him. he breaths roughly through his nose, gaining his control as he gets lost in the sounds, the smells of your shared apartment. the tv, long unwatched, continues to blare in the living room. the ceiling fan clicks with each rotation, and you're underneath him— as soft and pliant and good at taking him as you've always been.

lurching forward, logan connects your lips, a slight drag in his hips; back and forth, back and forth. you whine, lips parting in bliss as he looks at you, a line of spit connecting you as you pout. his head falls, one hand placed atop of your head as he wiggles his hips into you, deep enough that you swear he can feel your heart beating. "i want you. every... every fuckin' minute i'm awake, d'ya understand me?" he gushes, finally letting himself go in the pleasure, in the pain, exhaustion and you.

"i-i understand" you whisper as his hips lightly pick up his pace. there's so much slick between you, that when he slips out for a moment, he's gutted, frantically trying to find that warmth again as he pants, "theeeere we go... thas' good, thas' right"

the domesticity, the weight, the way he trusts you— all of it leads to you losing your breath, back arching as you warn "l-lo, 'm gonna...i-" he cuts you off, head snapping back up from watching himself disappear into you to kiss you, hot tongue comforting you. "i love you, f-fuck, thank you for waitin' up for me. sweet girl, i fuckin' love you. come, c'mon, i wanna feel you"

and when you do, when the stars spread across your ceiling and your eyes roll back, you can feel his hips stutter. pulling logan closer to you, you whine "more more more" and the poor, exhausted man loses it, his head falling next to your own as you feel the full weight of his metal skeleton as he chokes out a final, thick, rumbling grunt.

losing his breath, logan pants, hand grasping to find your own as he comes down from his high, spend leaking onto the bed beneath you. "jus' a few more minutes, babydoll. tell 'er to love me for a few more minutes" he asks, slowly starting to fall asleep with his face in the mattress, as your cunt clenches, loves around him.

an uncomfortable position? sure, but he won't move, you couldn't even make him. nothing could stop him from needing you, always, just as much as you need him.

the ceiling fan squeaks, the tv drones, the moonlight bathes him, the rollers pull at your hair, and he's finally home, in you.

#thank you for the submission sweetheart!#cherry loves logan so so so much <3 #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett angst #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine angst #james logan howlett fluff #james logan howlett smut #james logan howlett x reader #james logan howlett angst #hugh jackman x reader #🎀 anon

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kaleldobrev · 3 months ago

Text

Adventures in Babysitting

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader; Past William Butcher x F. Supe!Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, William Butcher, Soldier Boy/Ben & Hughie Campbell

Summary: The last thing you wanted was to babysit Soldier Boy — but here you are.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Cursing (23x), Offensive/Derogatory Language, Smut (P in V, Fingering, Unprotected Sex), Supe Shaming & Implied Drug Use

Authors Note: Even though I’m used to writing smut, I’m a little rusty, so apologies if this is not up to snuff with the other times I have written smut | I’ve been on such a Ben kick lately, hope y’all don’t mind! | MDNI — 18+ ONLY PLEASE | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

"Why am I the one that has to fucking babysit him?" You whispered yelled at Butcher, not trying to be remotely quiet in the process.

Butcher looked at you, and let out a small chuckle. "Cause Princess, you're the only one of us that, that Radioactive Cunt actually listens to. 'Sides, you're one of his kind."

You huffed. Like I had a fucking choice in the matter, you thought. "But you and Hughie are already going to be taking Temp V to go on your little suicide mission," you said, now raising your arms out of pure frustration. Your reaction and comment lead Butcher to just simply laugh.

"We ain't wastin' Temp V looking after him when you already got some in ya," he winked, giving your shoulder a little bump. "Sides, don't think your power is gonna be real useful for this."

It was now your turn to raise a brow and chuckle. "You don't think that my power of life draining people to the point of death isn't useful in this situation?"

"When I have laser eyes and Hughie can teleport? No. Our powers aren't hands on unlike yours," Butcher said.

"Now your power shaming me?" You scoffed, crossing your arms. "That's low Butch, especially after all the fucking times I've saved your British ass."

"Be mad at me all you want Princess, you're staying here," Butcher said, as he picked up his duffel bag. "I'll make it up to ya," he winked, and all you did was give him a disgusted look. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said, his tone a little bit more cheerful than it had been previously.

As Butcher walked out the door, you huffed. "Un-fucking-believable," you mumbled. You walked over to the couch and sat down, still keeping your arms folded as you slumped down and stared at the floor, slightly grinding your teeth.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ben asked, strolling into the room from the bathroom.

You glared at him, still with the look of death. "You. You're my fucking problem," your words coming off a lot harsher than you had intended them to sound. But you were pissed, and maybe a little bit jealous. Before Hughie came along, it was always the Y/N and Butcher Show, but now, it was the Hughie and Butcher Show. You felt slightly betrayed and felt like you had lost your best friend.

Ben looked at you with a confused look, his eye brows furrowed. "What the fuck did I do? I was in the fucking bathroom."

"You exist, that's why," you huffed, still with your arms crossed, barely looking at him as you answered.

"What's up with this fucking hot and cold shit uh? When I first met you, you were ready to hop on my cock, no questions asked, and now you wish I didn't exist?" Ben's reaction was one that you weren't expecting from him. You were expecting him to have some kind of sassy remark like 'Fuck you,' or 'Same here,' but not this time. This time, he almost seemed genuinely hurt that you told him that, even if you didn't really mean it.

In reality, you genuinely did like Ben; and really didn't have an actual problem with him. The only problem that you did have with him, was that he was too similar to you, and that honestly scared you sometimes.

"I'm just pissed okay?" You answered, your tone a little bit calmer now. You uncrossed your arms and let out a giant sigh.

Ben walked over to you, and sat next to you. "Do you...I can't believe I'm asking but...Do you want to...talk...about...it?" His words sounding almost as if he actually cared about what you had to say.

"No," your voice short. "I rather do something else," you continued. You finally looked him in the eyes now, and he looked at you with the same kind of confused look he had looked at you previously with.

"Yeah?" He asked, as you placed your hand on his thigh. He looked down at your hand, and then looked back up at you. "Don't start something you won't finish Sweetheart," he asked.

You didn't say anything but kept eye contact with him as you got up from the couch. "Where you goin' Sweetheart?" He asked, watching your every movement. But you remained silent; the only reaction you had was your facial expression. The death glare you had previously, was now replaced with that of slight lust.

As you stared at him, your fingers went on either side of your hips and went in the inside of your shorts. You started to slowly shimmy them down, maintaining eye contact with him as you did so. "Fucking tease," he mumbled. His comment caused you to smirk.

Once your shorts and underwear were completely off, they fell into a puddle at your feet, and you stepped out of them. You walked back to Ben and sat on his lap; your knees on either side of his legs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Without hesitation, his hands found your back and went inside of your shirt where they stopped mid-back. "No bra?" He smirked.

"I think they're rather inconvenient don't you think?" You asked in a whisper.

"I think so," he agreed. "You know what else is?"

"What?" You asked.

"This." In one swift movement, he lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it into the floor half-way across the room, leaving you completely naked on top of you — a sight that he's been dreaming about since the second he laid his eyes on you.

Once your shirt was off, you cupped his cheeks and pulled him in close to you, crashing your lips against his. You didn't mean to be so gentle with him, as you knew he could handle rough, but there was just something about him, about this situation that had wanted you to take things weirdly slow with him, instead of the usual rushed sex you were so used to having with Butcher.

Your body rocked against him, and his hands were squeezing your sides to the point that you could feel a slight amount of pain — the good kind of pain, and you let out a tiny moan. His lips moved to your neck, and you shut your eyes, loving the way his lips and tongue felt against your skin.

He nipped every so often on your skin, intending to leave bruises; but it would be a little hard to, given that you were also a Supe, but he was going to try nonetheless.

"Ben," you moaned, when he finally reached the space in-between your breasts. You felt him smirk against your skin. As if it were second nature, your hands found the back of his head, and you started almost massaging his scalp, twisting his hair between your fingers.

His hands moved from behind your back, and you missed the feeling of that warmness against you. But you were more than happy with where they were currently going. Without looking down, and keeping his mouth on yours, a few of his fingertips brushed up against your clit, and your breath hitched. He was barely touching you, and yet, you felt yourself starting to form into a puddle.

Ben couldn't help but widen his smirk as he touched you. He loved how wet you were for him, and he had barely touched you. "You like Sweetheart?" He asked against your lips, as he slowly started to slip one of his fingers slowly inside of you. It was his turn to tease you now.

Your breath hitched again, and he knew he had you. He slipped another finger inside of you, and he pumped his two fingers slowly in and out of you, knowing that this felt like torture for you. It might of felt like torture for you, but he wanted to enjoy this, because he didn't know if he would ever have this chance again.

You were hot and cold with him. One minute you were flirting with him, and the next you were calling him an asshole. But in either scenario, he couldn't help but imagine what you sounded like moaning his name, or how you would look as he fucked you.

"So fucking wet for me," he mumbled against your jaw. His fingers not picking up the pace in the slightest. You loved and hated what he was doing.

"Only for you," you whispered; your voice sounding blissful. "Ben...please..." you begged.

"Please what?" He asked, nipping at your neck.

"Make me come," you said, still in that same blissful tone.

"Mm, with pleasure," he replied. Without a second thought, his two fingers started to pump in and out of you a bit faster than they had been previously. As he pumped his fingers in and out of you, you rocked against them, trying to add more pressure and trying to get that quick release that you had been longing for.

Within seconds, you found yourself coming against his fingers. Letting out a moan, it became muffled as his lips found yours again. You moaned into his mouth; and you could his cock started to getting harder, which caused you to start smirking against his lips now.

Once you rid out your orgasm, he removed his fingers from you, and stuck them into his mouth; smirking as he did so. "I'll never get tired of that," he said.

You were on your back now, your left leg over Ben's shoulder, and the tip of his cock lining up to your entrance. If you were being honest with yourself, you were slightly nervous, but you were also excited about the feeling. "You ready for me Sweetheart?" he grinned, and you nodded.

Without anymore hesitation, he started to press the tip of his cock inside of you. You were slightly surprised at how gentle and slow he was being, as it was something that you weren't expecting from someone like him.

The farther he pressed his cock inside of you, the fuller you started to feel; a feeling that you couldn't help but moan to. "Fuck," you breathed out.

"I've heard a lot of women moaning in my life, but yours...fuck, it's like music to my ears," he smirked. "The sweetest I've ever heard." His weird compliment oddly made you feel good.

Once he was fully inside of you, the look on his face was that of pure delight, and you couldn't help but slightly chuckle. "Is it everything you hoped for?" You slightly joked.

"Better," he grinned.

He started out slow and gentle like he had been, almost as if he was cherishing the feeling. There was a part of you that was enjoying it, as you weren't used to a slow and gentle kind of sex; but the other part of you wanted him to speed up, as you knew the both of you would be able to handle the slight roughness.

The sounds of soft moans and grunts filled the room, but every so often they were muffled when you or Ben kissed the other. "You have no fucking clue how long I've wanted to fuck you," he whispered against your lips.

"I think I have an idea," you whispered back. Probably just as long, or longer than I have, you wanted to say.

"You feel so fucking good Sweetheart," he whispered again. He started kissing down your jaw again, and stopped at your neck, nipping at the skin once more. Still no marks, he thought. Disappointing.

As he continued to move in and out of you, you started to feel the slight pressure building and building, and you knew you were close. You were excited for the release, but didn't want the closeness that you were currently feeling with Ben to end. "I'm so close," you said, your words slightly breathy sounding.

"Already?" He grinned. Good, he thought. With a few more quick pumps, you found yourself coming around his cock; pure bliss and pleasure leaving your body. You moaned loudly as you came, and you didn't have to open your eyes to look at Ben to know how much he was enjoying seeing you like this.

As you came down from your high, the short breather that you had was simply that — short, as Ben started coming inside of you, which only reignited your high.

Ben pulled himself out of you, and you removed your slightly limp leg from his shoulder. “Come here,” he said, and you furrowed your brow in confused. “I said come here,” he repeated, with outstretched arms.

Before you could move, he rolled his eyes and brought you to himself, not liking the slowness that you were currently doing. When he pulled you close to him, he brought you into his lap and wrapped his arms around you; your head tucked underneath his chin. “Would have never pegged you as a cuddler,” you teased.

“I spent almost forty fucking years without skin to skin contact, humor me,” he said.

He was touch starved, you thought, and you swore that your heart broke just a little bit.

Half A Day Later…

You and Ben were on the couch together, your legs in his lap while his hands were on your bare thighs; his fingertips mindlessly tracing circles on them. There was an almost empty bottle of Jack between you that you had been sharing, along with a joint. The scene looked both romantic and casual — it felt nice.

"You know, I never messed up any of my lines in this movie," Ben noted, pointing at the screen with the bottle of Jack. "Unlike fucking Gunpowder," he mumbled, sounding slightly annoyed.

"He was like what fourteen and it was his first movie? Is that supposed to impress me?" You asked, raising a brow.

"Well ye—" but his sentence was cut off when the motel door abruptly swung open.

"Evening Cunts," Butcher said, his face and clothes splattered in blood.

"How'd the mission go? I see neither one of you are dead," you said, once Hughie entered the room, he too was covered in blood.

"We won," Butcher grinned, tossing his duffel bag onto the floor which sounded a lot heavier than it had been previously when he left much earlier in the day.

"How'd it go here?" Hughie asked. "I'm sorry we didn't bring you," his statement sounding genuine.

"No worries," you replied, trying your best to keep the slight jealousy that you had from showing. "It went fine here."

"I'd say more than fine," Butcher said, his tone slightly teasing and a little jealous sounding in nature as he pointed at your neck.

Your eye brows furrowed, and you lifted up your phone, turning the camera toward you. "Son of a Bitch," you mumbled, as you saw a few purpleish bruises on your neck. Hickeys, great, you thought.

Ben turned toward you now, turning your head to face him so he could admire his handiwork that he worked so hard on. "Well look at that," he grinned, slightly impressed with himself. "Ever make those kind of marks on her?" He asked, smirking in Butcher's direction.

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys imagine #the boys imagines #the boys one shot #the boys #the boys oneshot #ben x you #ben x reader #reader insert #female reader #the boys amazon #supe!reader

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minus-plus-zer0 · 1 month ago

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Studying in Bakugou's Home Headcanons

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader (This is kind of an unofficial follow-up to my headcanons about studying in his dorms)

Bakugou's home is a mystery to those who know him.

"I wonder what it's like!" Ashido says to you one day. "Has he showed you? You two are always so close!"

Even Kirishima himself hasn't seen it. "If he invites you, invite me over too, okay? In fact, invite me over in secret as a surprise!"

Little did they know, you HAVE been invited. But Bakugou made you swear on your life not to give them any juicy details.

When Bakugou invited you over for the weekend, he knew he had to prepare far in advance.

He finds a proper time where his old hag and clown wouldn't be home, then he cleans the place like he was paid to do it and stocks the pantry full of some snacks and food he knew you both liked. He even has some dinner prepped in the fridge in case it got late and you needed to eat a proper meal. He was certain you'd at least be halfway impressed at all the shit he's doing for you.

The weekend finally arrived and to be a gracious guest, you bring over a few homemade cupcakes. They were overly cutesy and sweet which in Bakugou's eyes was just so you.

He's pretty happy you thought of him with this nice gesture, and you didn't miss the warm smile he gave you after taking a bite out of the cupcake.

You two were about to head inside his house when you hear some woman yelling.

Bakugou immediately stops smiling. "Goddammit..."

He opens the door, keeping you directly behind him to purposefully obscure your vision.

Some woman meets him at the door, the spitting image of Bakugou himself. "Katsuki, what are you doing outside?! Where did you get that food? Wait, is that--"

To Bakugou's dismay, his mother spots you behind him.

She's overjoyed and pushes him aside before he can stop her. He yells at her while she fawns over you and your cupcakes. "How did my son manage to find such a sweet friend like you? Did he bully you into coming here? Are you okay?"

You are embarrassed by the attention and you tell her you're fine, while offering her a cupcake. If your mere existence as Bakugou's one and only nice friend didn't already win her over, then this sure did.

Bakugou groans and drags you inside, despite his mother's protests. He tells her to back off while he leads you into his bedroom.

Once you're inside, he tells you sternly to not step a single foot outside or else you'll be "hounded by the old hag". You agree, if only to be a nice guest.

You laugh at the fact that he looks so similar to his mom and he scoffs at that, saying he's much better than she could ever hope to be.

He tells you to lock the door after he leaves to go get a few more snacks. Once he's gone, you do so and start exploring.

His childhood bedroom is more decorated than his dorm room, but still just as modern in his choice of furniture. There's more All Might merch around and even some photos of his childhood and places he's been to, like hiking trails. You need to remind yourself to ask him about taking you on that trail someday, and you really hope he'll say yes (he will!).

There's also his closet and dresser too... but as nosy as you may or may not be, you won't cross that boundary until he says it's okay. You really want to wear one of his hoodies, they smell just like him. You've already stolen one, and Bakugou will have to rip it off of you if he wants it back (he will!).

Despite Bakugou not having lived in this room for a while, you notice that everything was quite organized. You guess that he must've prepped this place beforehand.

Bakugou finally comes back with the snacks and an earful from his mother before shutting the door behind him and locking it with purpose.

You both sit down at his desk, getting to work.

Bakugou's grilling you on questions either to help teach you subjects or because he doesn't understand stuff himself. But it's so clear he wants your praise and admiration from how hard he works that day. He's kinda hinging himself on your review of him.

As a fellow U.A. student and future Pro Hero, you had the same dreams as him. You couldn't let him outdo you. It's difficult since the homework Aizawa gave you is worse than what you've seen so far.

Sometimes when the work is too hard, you get distracted and start fiddling with the stuff around you. Bakugou doesn't exactly stop you, and it kinda warms your heart he's even letting you see all this stuff in the first place.

He ends up getting distracted by you getting distracted, and you both decide to take a break. Bakugou ends up giving you a short tour around his bedroom. You both took a trip down Bakugou's memory lane, and you learned all about his childhood stories. Time passes far too quickly and you're both rushing back to his desk to finish up your work before dinner.

You barely make it in time, and Bakugou's mother invites you to stay for the meal. Or more accurately, she commands you to stay.

Although Bakugou is sufficiently embarrassed, you agree and Mitsuki gives you her own perspective on all the childhood stories Bakugou shared with you, with her viewpoint being much less flattering.

At first you laugh and play along with her, thinking it's all in good fun. But after enough stories you end up stopping her because you feel sorry for Bakugou.

"It's really not a big deal what he was like in the past," you say. Bakugou peeks at you. "That doesn't really affect how I see him now."

His mother is taken aback by your words, but she smiles warmly. "Maybe that's okay too."

After dinner she orders Bakugou to clean the dishes, but you join him, not wanting to be a bad guest. Bakugou's mother ends up feeling sorry for unintentionally guilting you into this, and gives you both some popsicles afterwards as a reward.

You originally planned on heading home, but Bakugou's parents like you so much that they allow you to use their guest bedroom if you really need it. With your approval, Bakugou gives you some of his old clothes to use as pajamas. Once you get ready for bed, Bakugou knocks on your (temporary) bedroom door. You spent another hour or two hanging out, slowly getting more and more sleepy all the while.

Bakugou's father finds you both after you've fallen asleep, with Bakugou making sure you were okay. Bakugou's stunned by his father catching him in the act of being soft towards his love, and barks at the man to back off.

You don't wake up, and Bakugou walks out of the guest bedroom with his father.

"Guess she's a keeper," Bakugou's father said. "Whether it's as your friend or... you know. I'll make sure she knows you care."

"Don't you fucking dare! Don't say a damn thing!"

Meanwhile, you dreamt of homework and various Bakugou family members, unaware of the yelling outside your room. You couldn't wait to wake up tomorrow in the Bakugou house.

(This was in the works for literally ages but I never got around to it. Now I have! I hate leaving projects unfinished)

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casuallyimagining · 1 year ago

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Set Me Free || myg

min yoongi x female reader

Summary: Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to? Word Count: 14,377 Genre: friends to enemies to lovers, supernatural au, witch & familiar au, soulmate au, angst, fluff Warnings: death of a parent (brief mention), alcohol, soulmate breakup, smooching

Notes: banner by @itaeewon. thank you to @daechwitatamic and @oddinary4bts for beta-ing and listening to me struggle my way through this. as always. and extra thanks to ella for helping me write Yoongi's letters and to my friend tanya for giving me a super helpful base for the ending.

It’s cold. The late autumn wind rustles through amber-brown-orange-yellow leaves, swirling the fallen ones into little tornadoes that scuttle across the pavement. The cold doesn’t bother Yoongi, necessarily. It’s been a while since he’s been here, in this town, on this street, but even after so much time, his body remembers the chill of November in the same way his feet remember the way to his destination. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and pauses at the street corner.

It’s strange being back here. He’d once known this neighborhood so intimately, he could map it in his sleep. Not much has changed in the almost 13 years he’s been gone. The park on the corner is the same. The playground, massive to an eight-year-old with a near-infinite imagination, stands resolute, its plastic and paint sun-faded and weathered. Further up the block is the head of the trail that snakes its way through the forest, where he’d spent countless hours playing pirates as a kid and exploring as a teen. And there, at the end of the street, is his destination.

The closer he gets, the more his stomach roils with nerves. Thirteen years since he’d walked down this sidewalk. Thirteen years since he’d walked onto that front porch. Or rather, 12 years, 5 months, and 11 days.

But who’s counting?

There’s a light on in the front room of the house, he can see it through the big window despite the shades being pulled closed. He hesitates. He’s spent days–no, weeks–playing out in his head how this was going to go. In a moment, he’ll know if any of those scenarios were correct. And frankly, right now, he’s terrified.

What if you start to cry? What if you slam the door in his face? What if you hug him? What if you yell at him? What if you don’t answer? What if you want to talk? What if you never want to see him again? What if you invite him in? What if you have someone over?

He takes a deep breath and knocks.

It takes a second. He can hear shuffling around on the other side of the door, so he knows his knock was heard. But the longer it takes, the sweatier his hands get, and the more he considers turning and running away. The door opens before he can make a move.

You stand in the doorway, bathed in the warm light of the living room lamp behind you. And shit, Yoongi doesn’t know what to say. In many ways, you haven’t changed since the last time he saw you, but at the same time, you look so different. He can see in your eyes the moment the realization hits, and your expression changes drastically. You looked tired–and Yoongi can sense that it goes deeper than just physical exhaustion–and you were slouching, but now, you’re standing ramrod straight, and there’s a hard look in your eyes. One he knows all too well.

“Hey.” He raises a hand, offers a wave that, in hindsight, is rather pathetic. You stare at him, unblinking, and slowly, he lowers his hand. “I uh… I heard about your parents,” he says softly, scuffing his shoe against the wood of the porch. “I’m sorry you have to go through it.”

“Brave of you to show up.” You sound almost bored, but Yoongi knows–he senses, in that kind of primal, gut feeling he gets when it comes to you–that it’s an act. “You know I could turn you into a bug and squash you if I wanted to.”

“I know.”

There’s a tense moment where you stare at each other, the scowl you wear pulling your lips downward and creasing your brow. But then you heave an exhausted sigh.

“Why are you here, Yoongi?”

“I…”

I want to apologize.

I’m so sorry.

I miss you.

It all catches in his throat. He coughs in a meager attempt to entice something–anything–to come out of his mouth. “I wanted you to have this.”

He holds out his hands, and in an instant, he’s holding a box. It’s full but not heavy, and he thrusts it out in front of him in your direction.

“A 10-year-old shoebox?” You do nothing to mask your surprise.

“Letters,” he corrects. “You don’t have to read them but… I wanted you to have them.” He pushes the box into your arms, leaving you no choice but to take it. Then, he steps away and nods his head. “Thank you for not turning me into a bug. I am sorry about your parents. I… guess I’ll go.”

Without another word, he trots down the porch steps. And then, in a blink, he’s gone. Disappeared into the night.

You sigh and shut the door, the box he’d given you cradled in the crook of your arm. You don’t have the energy for this right now. Honestly, you aren’t sure that you’ll ever have the energy for it, but certainly not the day before your parents’ funeral.

Whoever had decided that witches and their familiars die together clearly never thought of the ones left behind.

You collapse onto the couch, placing the box beside you. This would be easier if you weren’t alone. It would be easier with Yoongi, your brain supplies less than helpfully. You curse yourself. You curse him. After all these years, you thought you were over it, over the abandonment, over the betrayal. But all it takes is for him to show his stupid face, and you can feel it all bubbling up anew. Angrily, you push the box off the couch. It explodes when it hits the floor, what seems like thousands of pieces of paper tumble out and scatter from the force.

The forest was almost silent as you stalked the trail. Not even the birds were happy that day. Twigs snapped under your feet. You weren’t even paying attention to where you were going, your feet carrying you along the path that you’d hiked countless times before. You needed to get away, to escape, to calm down. But you couldn’t, because what you were running away from was hot on your heels.

“Would you slow down?” You could hear the frustration in Yoongi’s voice as he followed you. You ignored him. “Goddamnit,” he breathed, picking up his pace. “Will you at least listen to me?”

Quite frankly, you didn’t care what he had to say in that moment.

“It wouldn’t be a permanent thing,” he continued. “I just… I don’t know. I need to do this.”

You stopped, sliding a little on the damp new growth below your feet. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re not being oppressed, Yoongi. No one’s stopping you from going out and exploring the world.”

“Maybe this way of life isn’t for everyone. Maybe not everyone wants their whole existence to be predetermined at birth. Maybe not everyone wants the universe to choose who they’re supposed to be with and how they’re supposed to live.”

His words stung, and until then, you weren’t quite sure why. Rejection. Not just of how you lived, and who he was, and how things had always been. But of you. Yoongi was your familiar, you were destined to be together in some way since you were six years old and the bond gem first appeared. Not all witches and familiars were in romantic relationships–your parents were, sure, and Yoongi’s parents–but plenty of them had other partners, lives separate from each other. Platonic soulmates navigating the world together.

Until a few months before, you’d been content with that. There was no doubt you’d been best friends from the jump. You’d been practically inseparable through school. Then, months before, he’d kissed you at the winter market. Right there in the park, under the aurora. Before that, you hadn’t thought of him as any more than your best friend. But the kiss had unlocked something inside you. And now…

Now he wanted you gone.

“You want to be free that badly?” By some miracle, your voice sounded positively venomous, even though you felt like you could crumble at any moment. “Fine.”

“Wh-”

There’s a saying your mother told you once, back when you were a child. You and Yoongi had found a turtle in the woods, stuck in the mud. His little turtle leg had been hurt, and you’d rushed it to your mother immediately. Familiars were excellent with animals, and she was no exception, healing the turtle in days when it should have taken weeks. You and Yoongi had both cried when you had to release it back into the wild–you’d both so wanted it to be your friend. ‘If you love something, set it free,’ your mother had said, ‘Sometimes it’s the kindest option.’

Kinder for whom?

The chain around your wrist snapped easily when you wrapped your fingers around it. The incantation meant to keep the bond gem safe became meaningless as soon as you wanted it gone. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been without it around your wrist. You loved it, with its gem of swirling, inky black and navy blue. It reminded you so much of Yoongi, deep and calm and unwavering.

Without a word, you tossed the bracelet to the ground. Yoongi’s eyes widened as it hit and the gem cracked. For good measure, you stepped on it, crushed it into dust. There was a pitiful swirl of blue magic that puffed up from the dirt. When you moved your foot, there was nothing left of the bond gem or its chain.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi’s eyes were glassy when you finally looked at him. He looked almost as crushed as you felt. “What the fuck?”

“You’re free.” And this time, you couldn’t hide your sadness behind your anger.

He didn’t follow you as you walked away, and honestly, it was for the best. It was faint, but you could still feel his emotions, and you weren’t sure you could handle that kind of heartache in person.

There is paper everywhere. Hundreds of pieces, folded neatly in thirds. You have no idea how Yoongi had fit them all into the shoebox. He must’ve enchanted it. Groaning, you start to pick them up.

Letters, he’d said. You flip through some as you gather them up. Now that they’re on the floor, they aren’t in any particular order, but it quickly becomes clear that these letters span years. There are some from 12 years ago, written shortly after he’d left. Some are more recent. You stare at one, from December of the year he left. Glancing through it, you expect it to unearth your anger, your rage. But it doesn’t. Just like seeing him again, all Yoongi’s letter brings is sadness. Grief.

You’d spent the past 12 years grieving. Sure, he hadn’t died, but when he left, you’d lost the closest relationship you would ever have. In 17 years, you’d grown so accustomed to having him there, that when he was gone, there was a Yoongi-sized hole left in your life that you had to learn to fill. And you did your best, sewing yourself back together and moving on. But it wasn’t the same.

Glancing through his letter, it seems you weren’t the only one struggling. You aren’t sure if that’s a comfort or not.

It’s been almost a year since the night market–one year since everything started crumbling around us. I still remember it like it was yesterday. It felt right in the moment, didn’t it? I really thought you would understand.

I’ve tried to figure out where things went wrong. But shit, I can’t wrap my head around it. Why did you react like that when I told you I just wanted to be free?

At the end of the day, I guess we didn’t understand each other as much as I thought we did. As much as this bond brings us together, I guess it doesn’t reveal everything. But… that night I just wanted to kiss you, and so I did. Maybe it was selfish. Sometimes I wish the bond didn’t exist, that we could just be free to choose things for ourselves. That we weren't forced into what the universe wants from us… Maybe that’s selfish, too.

Why couldn’t you understand? I just wish I could turn back time and make you understand. Maybe then you wouldn’t hate me, and maybe then I’d stop hating myself too.

Because watching you destroy the gem nearly killed me, but it wasn’t half as bad as watching you walk away. Should I have run after you?

Would you still be there if I had?

You sigh and lean back against your couch. That damn night market. You hadn’t been back to it since the year he’d kissed you. It’s silly, but a part of you blames it for everything that happened. Because Yoongi’s letter is right. It had marked the beginning of everything going wrong. It wouldn’t change anything, but there’s a part of you that won’t listen to logic, that refuses to believe that maybe, if he hadn’t kissed you–if you hadn’t kissed him back–he wouldn’t have left.

The night market was beautiful. It always was, but that year was particularly beautiful. The park had been decorated in all of its sparkling, winter glory. Candles twinkled in the trees, suspended by sheer force of will. Through some magic you weren’t familiar with, they’d enchanted the sky, and an aurora shimmered far above, slowly swirling in greens and blues and purples. Snow fell gently, and you weren’t sure if it was natural, or if it was also magic.

You browsed the various tents and tables, going from one to the other to see the different things people were selling. Some had crafts, others baked goods, and some were even selling things like potion ingredients and spellbooks. There were a few tables dedicated to familiars–books on shifting and specialty items and insets and jewelry for bond gems.

Yoongi followed you closely, clutching a hot chocolate. You knew he wasn’t cold, the temperature was nowhere near low enough for either of you to be uncomfortable, but the way his fingers tapped against the paper cup, you knew something was up. You could sense his anxiety, could feel it in the pit of your own stomach.

“Want to go sit?” you asked softly, gesturing over to the picnic tables they’d set up under one of the sparkling trees.

His eyes widened. “No, that’s okay. You’re looking.”

“I’m done. Let’s go sit.”

“I-” He deflated a little and didn’t argue further, allowing you to lead him over to one of the tables.

You sat side by side on the bench, backs against the table, and watched the snow fall around you. The night was peaceful, quiet for the most part except for the occasional laughter that bubbled up. Most of the older crowd had left, leaving only the teens and young adults to explore the market. You watched the other festival goers in silence, Yoongi’s arm pressed against your own.

“You okay?” you asked softly, bumping your shoulder into his own.

Yoongi being quiet was nothing new. He was an observer, a listener, he took in information like a sponge. Which wasn’t to say that he was never loud and boisterous, that he didn’t talk incessantly to the people he cared about. But he was absolutely the calmest presence you’d ever been around, even compared to the adults in your life.

But you could sense what he was feeling, could feel his nerves and unease and conflict. And you knew that he’d rather explode than burden anyone with his feelings. So you prodded. Ever so gently. Because he was your best friend, and when he was suffering, you were too.

He stayed quiet, and when you turned to look at him, he was much closer than you were expecting. A moment passed. You shared a look. You’d always thought that Yoongi’s eyes were pretty, but in the twinkling light of the candles above, they were deep pools of warm, dark cedar and flecks of honey. Slowly, subtly, he leaned in–or maybe you did, you weren’t sure– as though some mysterious force was drawing you together. An emotion flashed in his eyes, but you couldn’t quite take the time to consider what it may have been because he was kissing you. Lips chapped from the bitter wind moulded against your own for the shortest of moments. It was tentative and delicate and brief, but as he pulled away, your mind reeled.

That day had affected you in ways you never would have expected. Before, you’d never considered Yoongi as anything more than your best friend, the platonic other half of yourself. And then the kiss, and suddenly, it was like you’d been awakened. For as long as you could remember, your thoughts had been filled with Yoongi. Of the things he liked, the things he didn’t, of spending time with him, of the academy (with him). Suddenly, you were suspecting that maybe there was more to that, more than just the bond of a witch and their familiar.

You sigh. The letters are all finally back in the box, though nowhere near as nicely as they’d been before you’d kicked it and it had exploded. You should get up. You should go to bed. You have to be up fairly early for the funeral. But you stay seated, the box of letters in your lap.

Seeing him again was hard. You’re willing to admit that. You’d spent 12 years convincing yourself that you were fine, harboring anger and resentment and frustration, all for it to melt away the second you saw him. The bond makes it tough to stay mad at him, but it doesn’t let you forget the betrayal.

You stand out of the way, looking out over the funeral attendees in the park. Your parents didn’t have a lot of friends, but there are enough people here that you’d officially call it a crowd. They’re all mingling–you’d bought beer and wine, and if you didn’t know any better, it could maybe be a party and not a wake. You tighten your fist around the bond gem in your hand. For as long as you could remember, your dad had worn it around his neck, tucked under his shirt. The gem is like your mother–bright pink, fiery orange, deep yellow–and when you were a child, you’d loved to look at it, mesmerized by the swirling, glittering colors.

The gems have always been a gift from a familiar to their witch, given to symbolize the soulmate-like bonds between them. Most witches–especially those who were romantically involved with their familiars–wear them as jewelry. They don’t really do anything, though some people claim it made their magic stronger (you aren’t really sure about that, seeing as most gems appear in childhood).

As a child, you hadn’t been particularly close with your parents. Especially as a teen, you would have much rather hung out with Yoongi than them. But they were kind, and supportive, and for the most part, they left you to do your own thing. They’d been almost as devastated as you when you’d crushed your bond gem.

Days after your fight with Yoongi, the doorbell rang. Your mother had opened the door. You were upstairs. You’d stayed home from school that day–sick, but not in the way the administrators would have accepted. For a few brief moments, you’d ignored whatever visitor was downstairs. But then-

“She’s not here.” Your mother’s voice drifted up to you. She sounded disappointed.

“Please.” It was Yoongi, you’d recognize his baritone from miles away.

Quietly, you’d slipped out of your room and crept down the hall, sitting at the top of the stairs. You could hear your mother sigh, could see her shift her weight from one foot to the other. Your father appeared from the kitchen and joined your mother at the door.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he said, shaking his head. He leaned against the doorknob, pulling it a little more shut in the process so it blocked you completely from the door’s sight.

A long moment of silence passed before your mother called, “Yoongi?” You couldn’t hear his response–he must have already gone down the porch steps. Your mother continued, “It can be scary, and you’re both still young. Give it time.”

The door shut quietly, and both of your parents looked to where you were sitting. You could see it in both of their eyes. Sadness, but something else. Something that looked a little close to pity.

A laugh draws your attention, and you smile sadly as you watch your mother’s coworkers laugh at some memory. But then you notice, just behind them, a shadow close to the ground and suddenly, you’re distracted all over again. Because there, half-hidden by a bush, sits a black cat. Cedar and honey eyes watch you intently, its dark fur swirling and shining like a thousand galaxies. Your hand tightens around your parents’ bond gem, the chain pressing sharply into the flesh of your hand.

He doesn’t move, just sits there patiently. Watching. He’s there as people approach you, offering condolences and hugs that you don’t particularly want; he’s there when people start trickling out. And he’s there when you’re the last one left, all alone under the large oak tree in the center of the park.

It’s quiet as you stand there, staring down at the bond gem in your hands. This is the part you’ve been dreading. Because you don’t want to keep the damn thing–you could if you wanted to, but there’s also tradition to think about. But it’s also weird to give up the one thing that is so emblematic of your parents. You wonder if they’d felt like this when your grandparents had died.

At least they’d had each other during it.

You can sense him approach, even though his steps are completely silent. And though he comes closer, he keeps his distance. On one hand, you appreciate it. On the other…

“If you’re going to be here, the least you could do is be here,” you say quietly, looking down at the gem in your hand. It sparkles a little in the light.

Thankfully, he doesn’t ask you to explain. He takes a few slow steps forward until he’s standing beside you. It’s weird, having him this close again. You’d been too overwhelmed last night to actually observe, but now, you’re exhausted, yet alert.

His hair is longer–as a teen, he’d kept it short, but the ends curl and sit just above his shoulders now. He’s filled out and put on some muscle, and though he’s still a little on the lankier side, his shoulders have broadened. He wears cologne now, the scent light, like lavender, citrus, and sage. So much has changed, and yet it’s the same eyes that watch you with a soft curiosity.

You look up to the tree, watch its branches wave in the wind. You used to think that the centenarian boughs touched the sky, and even still, it towers above everything else in the park. The leaves sparkle, their iridescence catching the light to make the tree look like something out of a fairy tale. You sigh and tighten your fist around your parents’ bond gem one more time before opening your hand.

At first, nothing happens, but then the gem glistens and rises out of your grasp. It joins the other leaves close to the top of the tree, becoming just another sparkle in the prism.

For a while, not even the birds make a noise. You just stand there, looking up at the tree that has stood sentinel over most of your life. The wind rustles the leaves, and they shimmer as they move. You have no idea how many leaves are up there, how many bond gems have been placed over time. Thousands–maybe hundreds of thousands–of witches and their familiars, most forgotten to the annals of time.

It’s strange, knowing that you would never be memorialized by the tree.

“Let me buy you a coffee,” Yoongi whispers from beside you, husky baritone cutting through the silence.

Yoongi isn’t sure why you say yes, but soon enough, you’re walking into the Green Bean just behind him. He’s uncomfortable, people have been watching you since the park, and their stares are starting to burn holes in his back. He says nothing about it until you’re in line at the cafe.

“What are they staring at?” he whispers, leaning close so that only you can hear in the semi-busy cafe. He chooses to ignore how you tense up ever so slightly.

“You’ve been gone for 12 years, what did you expect?”

Right. He supposes he should have expected their animosity. But it’s not just him they’re watching. He doesn’t miss the way people stare at you, watch you warily as you simply exist. His mind races. Was that his fault? Did his absence cause so many unintended consequences?

You order a coffee and choose a table in the far corner of the cafe, away from everyone but still near the window. He sits in the chair across from you, the hard metal shockingly comfortable despite its harsh lines. An awkward silence settles over you both, but Yoongi’s not sure what to say, so he lets it linger. He watches you stare out the window. Which is a little weird, right? But he can’t bring himself to drag his gaze away. It’s like after 12 years of being away, he just wants to look at you.

The barista calls out your orders and Yoongi stands to grab both of them from the counter. He places one oversized ceramic mug down in front of you, and the other, he wraps his hands around. It’s warm, almost hot, and he dares not take a drink yet. You stare down at the foam on top of your drink, one finger hooked around the handle of the cup.

“What happened to them?” he asks softly. When you look up, surprised, he clarifies. “Your parents, I mean. I… didn’t hear how they…”

You sigh, tap your mug. He can sense the deep sadness you struggle with and is just about to tell you to forget he asked when you speak. “I always kind of thought it would be dad who’d go first.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “He was always so frail when we were kids. But mom got sick last year and…” You shrug. “One of the neighbors found them.”

“I’m so sorry.” You wave him off. “No. Honestly. They were nice.”

“Thanks.”

He nods, and silence settles again. But then something you said pops into his mind, striking him as strange. “You aren’t living here anymore?” Mentally, he slaps himself. Why did it come out like he’s surprised? He supposes that he’s always just kind of pictured you still… here, in town.

“I’m over in Ashland,” you say, generally gesturing west, toward the city. “I work at the library at the university.”

“Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows. “How’s that?”

You shrug. “Mostly good. It’s a job. The library’s usually pretty quiet, so…”

“That’s really cool.”

Ashland is big, much bigger than here in square feet and at least 10 times the people. It’s a real city, with skyscrapers and functioning public transportation and one of the country’s top medical universities. He’s proud of you, he realizes. You’d always planned to leave for the city, too constrained by life in such a small town. For the longest time, he’d planned on going with you. And then, of course, he’d ruined it. It stings a little to know that you’d gone without him like that, that your life had continued as planned, that maybe he hadn’t meant that much in the grand scheme of things.

But then your eyes meet, and he’s confronted by the anxiety and sadness you’re feeling, and he knows he’s just being stupid. Again.

“So, uh…” He feels a wave of nerves wash over him–they aren’t his own. You tap your half-empty mug. “What have you been up to?”

If he’s honest, Yoongi wasn’t expecting you to ask about him. He’s shocked enough that you’d even agreed to be here, let alone that you were interested in his life. “I was traveling,” he starts cautiously, gauging your reaction. You blink slowly, watching his every move. If you can sense his apprehension, you don’t react. “But now I’m up north in Ulmae. I’ve got a pretty good thing going at this restaurant on the North Shore.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, uh…” He chuckles, a little nervous. “They’ve got me bartending on the weekends and let me do music during the week.”

Your eyes widen a little, and you lean forward. “They let you play?”

“It’s only like an hour a night-”

“No, shut up. That’s amazing!” You grin, big and genuine, but Yoongi can sense a tinge of sadness in it.

He’s disappointed when you both finish your coffees and you stand up to put your cup in the little tub by the counter. It’s starting to get late, the sun is starting to set and the streetlights have turned on. It was nice, catching up with you, short though it may have been. It’s not lost on him how strange it is, having to catch up with someone that was once practically a part of him.

Together, you stand outside in the chilly early evening air, looking down the street toward the park. Over the roofs of the shops and houses, Yoongi can just barely see the centinel tree with its sparkling leaves. People walk past–people he recognizes but couldn’t possibly name–some are more subtle about it, but others practically break their necks to stare at the two of you. Suddenly, Yoongi feels exposed outside the cafe, like there are eyes everywhere. He hates this, hates feeling like he’s doing something wrong just for wanting to talk to you more.

You sigh, scuff your shoe against the concrete of the sidewalk, shove your hands deep into the pockets of your dark jeans. “I… probably shouldn’t even ask,” you start warily. “But do you want to come back for a drink?”

The house is the same, yet somehow also different, like one of those spot the difference puzzles come to life. The layout of the living room is the same, but the couch is a different style and color. There’s a blanket folded the same way under the coffee table, but it’s clearly a different pattern than he remembers. Most of the photos are the same, but there are 12 years’ worth of more of them.

Apparently, the stash of alcohol your father kept in the built in cabinet beside the television hasn’t changed.

You pull out a bottle of whisky and two glasses, setting them on the coffee table with a gentle ‘clink.” The shoebox he’d given you sits on the floor. The lid is off, the letters contained within are a mess. Have you read them, or did they spill out? There’s no way for him to really know.

Silently, you hand him a glass and sit on the other side of the couch, grabbing one of the throw pillows to hug in your lap. You sip at the double in your glass stoically, and for a moment, you stare at him. He has to resist the urge to squirm under your gaze. There’s something different about how you’re sitting, something in your aura that he didn’t notice in the cafe. Maybe you’d been saving it for private, but he can sense that you’re reining your emotions in.

But then finally, after what feels like an eternity, you turn over your hand. Two pieces of paper sit in your palm. “I’m going to need you to explain these.” The two letters float over to him and open themselves in front of him.

The first is dated only a few years after he’d left.

I’ve been struck by a thought. I had tacos earlier, and I just know you would have loved them. Which made me realize that there’s still part of me that thinks about you at every turn. Your friendship was such an integral part of my life, and not having it anymore feels like there’s a piece missing. Last week it was a song on the radio. Before that, a stray cat I saw that I know for certain you would have loved. Everything reminds me of you, everything leads back to you. You’re everywhere and nowhere, and…

I would like to see you again. Someday.

How have you been doing? Where has your life taken you? I can only hope it’s treated you kindly. It’s what you deserve.

The other is from the day he turned 25.

A quarter of a century, and for some reason I feel incredibly old. With it comes some realizations, things I didn’t understand before. Maybe I was too young, too blinded by my own need to feel free… but it never was about being free from you. I can’t even begin to imagine how hurtful it must have been for you…

I never wanted to make you feel like I was giving up on you, like I didn’t want you. I never wanted to make you feel rejected, because it wasn’t you I was trying to be free from.

I was so scared of having my whole life laid out in front of me. I never took the time to think what my life could be with the bond–I only ever thought about what the bond meant for my life. All of the expectations, what comes with being a familiar, our roles in society and the universe…

I realize now that I could have–should have–communicated it all better. If only so that I wouldn’t have lost you. So that it wouldn’t have led to me making you feel like I was rejecting you. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered; at the end of the day I was still walking away from you. But at least maybe I could have made it more clear that it was never you that I wanted to be free from.

I’m sorry. I feel like it’s useless to say, but I am so sorry for not realizing any of this before.

Wherever you are, I hope you’ll understand. Take care until I see you again.

I hope I see you again.

Yoongi sighs. The letters–all of them, not just these two–tended to be rambling diatribes, a snapshot of his thoughts as he worked through his feelings about his own life and everything and you. He’d been an idiot when he left–he was 17 and full of himself and terrified of the world but too proud to admit it–and it had taken him far too long to realize a lot of important things.

For a moment, it’s quiet as he thinks of what to say. How should he even begin? But apparently, he’s quiet for too long, because you wave your hand and the letters fold themselves back up and float back down to the shoebox. When you speak, you sound exhausted. “Why are you here, Yoongi?”

“I-”

“Because if the roles were reversed, I don’t know that I’d have the balls to come back. On one hand, I’m impressed. On the other…” You trail off and shrug.

He’s quiet, not sure how to respond. He’s got lots of thoughts, lots of feelings–of course he does–but right now, you’re a wall, and he’s not sure how to read the situation. He’s not sure what you need to hear right now. So he says nothing.

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it, and you look down at the glass in your hand, stare into the dregs of the amber whisky you’ve nearly finished. “I’m running on like two hours’ sleep,” you admit. “But fuck, Yoongi, I… I was so convinced that I’d never see you again. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.” Then, softer. “I’m still not sure.”

“Why?” It’s out of his mouth before he can even think and god, he just wants the Earth to open up and swallow him whole.

It takes a second for you to process his absolute trash heap of an asinine question. But when you do, your face contorts into somewhere between anger, disappointment, and heartbreak. “What do you mean, ‘why’?” You practically spit the question at him. “You… you… Do you know what it’s like to have the most important person in your life tell you that he wants rid of you?”

“I never said-”

“You wanted to be free. From all of it. From me.” You pick at the corner of the pillow in your lap. “And then you just come back out of the blue like nothing happened and drop this damn shoebox at my feet-” from where it sits on the floor, the shoebox explodes, letters flying everywhere, “-and you just… What did you expect, Yoongi? What do you want?”

“I don’t know!” He sounds a little desperate when he says it, and he hates that, hates how pathetic it makes him sound. So he shrugs, takes a deep breath, leans back a little. “I don’t know,” he repeats. “I just… I missed you. And then mom told me about your parents, and…” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead and out of his eyes. “And then I was on a train.”

You stare at him for a moment, a little gobsmacked. You have no idea how to respond. What do you say to that? Where do you even start? There are a hundred things you could say. You’ve played this scenario out a thousand times in your head over the years–what would you do if he came back?–but somehow, it never played out like this. In your mind, he’d never told you that he missed you.

You’d never considered that he would miss you.

But you should say something, right? It’s weird that you’re sitting there, just staring at him in complete silence. Has your jaw been clenched the whole time? Does he think you’re angry with him? Quickly, you school your face into something a little more neutral and say the first thing that comes to mind.

“How long are you here for?”

Truthfully, you probably should have asked sooner. You’ve been wondering since he showed up on your doorstep last night, but it never seemed like a great time to ask.

He sighs. “‘Till tomorrow.”

You nod, probably longer than it makes sense to, but it takes you a bit to process. Tomorrow. He’s back in your life for two days, and then he’s gone again. That’s not even enough time to catch up, let alone actually talk with him. And that’s… you aren’t sure how to feel.

Yoongi watches you quietly and takes a sip of his drink. He’s barely touched it. “Maybe…” he says after a moment, leaning forward to put his glass on the coffee table. “Maybe I should go?”

Part of you wants to tell him no, to ask him to stay, to tell you more about his gig working at the bar. Anything to keep him here and talking to you. But there’s a more logical part of you that’s overwhelmed, that needs some time to think. He’s offering to go, which means that he’s either uncomfortable or his train leaves early in the morning. Or both. He stands, thanks you for the drink, and you follow him to the door. He hesitates just outside, opens his mouth as if to say something and closes it almost as quickly.

You say nothing. And for the second time in as many days, you watch him leave without another word.

The playground was almost empty. Mama said it was supposed to rain, but she’d also said that you would go anyway, for a little bit. You were trying to learn how to swing on your own, and plus Yoongi and his mom were going to be there, and he’d said he’d bring his trucks to play in the sand.

But he wasn’t there yet, so you were on the swing. Mama pushed you, her hand firm on your back, and you closed your eyes. You were flying, wind in your face as you launched forward into the air. And then, just as suddenly, you were falling, swinging backward.

“Remember what I said,” mama said softly. “Kick your legs.”

You weren’t quite sure what she meant by that. Your legs were little, and when you kicked out, you felt more like you were going to slide out of the swing seat than anything. You heard her laugh a little, but her hand was on your back once again, propelling you forward.

A few minutes passed in a blur of forwards and backwards. You still didn’t quite understand the whole swinging on your own thing, but mama’s rhythmic pushes kept you going. But then, a small voice at the edge of the playground yelled your name, and you heard excited footsteps in the wood chips. Mama helped you slow to a stop, and you jumped off the swing.

A little boy, his dark hair cut short by his own mom, ran toward you. He was carrying an armful of small cars and larger trucks. He skidded to a stop in front of you, a wide, gummy grin engulfing his face and crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“I brought all my trucks!” he announced, looking down at the toys in his arms. “You can be the green one. Here.” He tried to hand it to you, and another fell in the process.

You picked it up and took the green truck from him. It was bright green–the same shade as the lime popsicles Yoongi’s mom usually bought–and it had big wheels. You followed him to the sandbox and you both plopped down. It didn’t take long to have a whole city constructed. Granted, it was all made from rocks and wood chips and other small things you found around the sandbox. But it was a city and it was beautiful.

Yoongi drove his truck over a bump, making engine noises as he pushed it toward you. As he drove the truck down another sand hill, bumping and bouncing it over sticks and rocks, something fell out of the sleeve of his jacket. It was perfectly round, and it rolled to a stop in front of you. You picked it up and inspected it. It was some kind of rock, hard and shiny, but it was also colorful, and you were pretty sure rocks couldn’t be blue.

One look at the rock and he frowned, calling for his mom. She came over immediately and crouched down to see what he was so concerned about. Your mama followed her, and she was the one that saw the rock in your hand first.

“Oh,” she said, her hand gently smoothing down your hair. “You two have found your gem.”

“Wha’s that mean?” Yoongi asked, looking up at his mom.

She smiled and sat in the sand beside him, pulling him into her lap. She held out her arm, twisted her bracelet around so that he could see it. “You know how I have this from your dad? It’s like that.”

“But-”

“Your friendship is special,” she continued, pinching his cheek. Yoongi laughed. “It means you’ve gotta look out for each other now.”

For a moment, he was quiet. But then he nodded, just once. “Okay!” He held out his hand to you, tiny palm face up. “Can I have it?”

“It’s not yours anymore,” his mom said softly, brushing his short hair back. “It’s a gift.”

You looked to your mama and she nodded. “Take care of it,” she told you. “You only get one.”

Middle school was the worst. Everything was difficult. Social situations, interactions with your parents, school. At the time, it all seemed like it was unfairly hard. Making it worse, of course, was getting sick. As a kid, you were never sick that often. Yoongi was a different story. For whatever reason, familiars were just more susceptible to illness, and when he got sick, he got sick.

It was the middle of the semester, and Yoongi hadn’t been to school in days. Your teachers hadn’t even asked, they’d just started giving you packets–homework and printouts of their lessons and extra materials–so he wouldn’t fall behind. So you stopped by his house after school. His mom let you in, offering you some of the snacks she was making for Yoongi before you headed up the stairs to his room.

You knocked gently before entering. The knock was a politeness–you were close enough with him and familiar enough with his room at this point in your life that you could just barge in without warning and you knew he wouldn’t mind. He looked like hell, stuck in his bed buried in blankets. It was clear he’d had a fever at some point, because his hair looked damp and sweaty.

But he sat up when you walked in, coughing deeply before speaking. “You’re going to get sick, too,” he protested weakly.

You waved him off. “Everyone’s sick.” You pulled over his desk chair to the side of his bed and started to go through your bag. “Ms. Miller gave me your math homework, but if you understand it, you’ll have to explain it to me because I have no idea what she’s talking about.” He giggled at that, gummy smile soon hidden by his hand as he coughed. “Here’s the novel for Brown’s class. She said she’d talk to you about making up the paper when you’re back.”

It took a surprisingly long time to go through eight classes’ worth of homework and assignments, but you’d put sticky notes at the front of each packet explaining things, too, so the fact that he was half-asleep for most of your explanation didn’t really matter.

“Will you stay?” he asked when you were done. “Help me with some of this?”

“What happened to not wanting me to get sick?” you teased.

“I mean, you don’t have to. If you want to go home, that’s fine, too. I just-” He coughed, burying his face in his blankets.

“You staying for dinner, hon?” Yoongi’s mom called from the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes please!” you responded, shuffling through the stack of packets you’d brought for Yoongi. “Wanna take a stab at math?”

Halfway through the fall of your senior year, Yoongi started to get… weird. Cagey. Like he was trying to hide something and figure out particle physics at the same time. You’d tried asking him about it a few times, only for him to wave you off with a quiet “just thinking about some things.” After that, he’d be back to normal for a few days. But every time, like clockwork, he would fall back into it.

Finally, on the third day of the new year, he pulled you aside. Tucked back into the dormant foliage of the park, away from prying eyes, he stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was nervous, you could feel it deep inside you, but to be honest, you didn’t really need your bond to tell you what was plain to see.

“I…” He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. His brows furrowed in thought, and after a moment, he motioned for you to sit. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay?” You sat on the edge of a big rock, confused.

“I…” he started again, sitting beside you. You could feel a spike of nerves, and he took a breath to steady himself. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I think… fuck, this is harder than I thought it would be.”

“You can just say it,” you told him. “It’s just me.”

He nodded and mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘that’s the problem,’ but after a moment, he continued. “I need to be free of all of this.”

“What?”

“Haven’t you ever thought that maybe the universe doesn’t know what it’s talking about? That maybe you’d be happier if you chose things for yourself?” He frowned. “There’s rules for gifts. We’re only good at certain types of magic because of how we were born. We have to celebrate holidays certain ways, we have to do specific things on our birthdays-”

“-and we get told who we’re to bond to.”

He recoiled at your words. “That’s not-”

“But it’s true, right?” Your gaze fell from him to your hands. “It’s just one more thing you don’t get to control.”

Yoongi sighed. “I just… want to be able to choose for myself.”

Suddenly, you were sick to your stomach. This was the last thing you’d expected. You didn’t particularly like all of the traditions, either, but you were 17. What the hell were you going to do about it? But this felt like he was saying he didn’t want you. You hadn’t yet talked about the kiss at the night market a few weeks prior, but you’d never guessed that he’d do such a sudden about-face.

“Right,” you said softly.

“Just… think about it?” he asked, dark eyes pleading.

You didn’t like where this was going, didn’t like how it made you feel. But you nodded anyway. Maybe he would change his mind.

Days gave way to weeks and months, and before you knew it, spring had come. Yoongi hadn’t changed his mind. If anything, he’d gotten more insistent.

“I want to find myself,” he’d told you once. “I need to make sure this is how I want to live my life.”

“I just need to get away,” he’d said one day while you were doing homework together. “Start fresh somewhere new.”

And then, on the way home from school one day, he’d said, “I need to be free of it all.”

And you’d snapped. Three months of hearing him talk about it, three months of him basically saying that your entire way of life was wrong and that he was chafing to get away. You couldn’t help it.

“Fuck off,” you’d told him, taking the trail behind the houses at a faster pace. Despite being so attuned with nature thanks to his familiar genes, he’d had trouble keeping up with you.

He’d pushed. And eventually, you’d given in. Because despite everything, you’d loved him, and if he was unhappy, you wanted to fix that. And now…

Now you’re sitting alone at the train station at ass o’clock in the morning. The train station has just barely opened, and already you’re inside, clutching a cup of coffee. There are a few other people here, milling around, waiting for their early trains to god knows where. You can feel them watching you, can feel them trying to make it subtle that they’re staring. At this point, you’re used to it. Word travels fast in small towns, especially when that word is as earth-shattering as a broken bond gem and a falling out between a witch and their familiar.

You try to ignore them, focus on your coffee and the posters across the waiting area from you.

Report any unattended or suspicious luggage to National Rail personnel.

Bags larger than this poster must be checked into the train’s luggage car.

Please remain seated until your train is announced and National Rail personnel give authorization to enter the platform.

You scroll through the news on your phone. Read the posters again. Stare out the window at the coffee shop across the street. And wait. A train arrives, and the couple that had been staring at you leaves. You sigh and stand to throw out your now empty cup.

Just as you do, the door to the train station opens. You turn to look, and there stands Yoongi. He’s wearing a black shirt, a bag slung across his body. His hair is pushed back off his face and he’s wearing his glasses. He’s clutching an absolutely massive travel mug and his phone in one hand, the other rolls a small suitcase behind him. He looks sleepy, but the second his dark eyes land on you, he jolts a little, as if electrocuted into being awake and alert.

“Hey,” he says cautiously, approaching you.

“Hey.” You wave slightly–awkwardly.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, still a little gruff from sleep. You get the sense that maybe he hasn’t said much of anything to anyone this morning.

You sigh and gesture for him to follow you to a bench. The next train–his, you presume–isn’t due for another 20 minutes. You have time, but not much.

“I didn’t like how we left things,” you admit. “I… I wasn't sure if you were serious.”

“Serious?” His head falls to the side slightly, confused. But then, it seems, he understands, and he nods. “I did miss you–I do. I spent the entire ride here thinking about how seeing you again was going to go.”

“Were you right?”

He chuckles. “Not exactly.”

You hum and nod, and for the briefest of moments, silence settles over you. The stationmaster types away at his computer, the clacking of the keyboard the only sound in the entire station. But then you force yourself to say something that’s been on your mind since he showed up on your doorstep two days ago.

“It’s been good seeing you again,” you say, and even though you mean it, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “I… think in a way, after so long, I made you the villain in my head. It’s good to see that you’re… not that.”

“I am sorry,” he whispers. “That was the worst thing I have ever done, and I just…”

“I get it.”

“What?”

“I think I kind of always did, but… it just hurt too much to think that you were including me in everything that you wanted to get away from, and I just-”

“You were the last thing I wanted to get away from.” Maybe it’s the waver in his voice, maybe it’s the way he ducks his head to make sure he makes eye contact, but you believe him. He sits his mug down on the bench beside him and gathers your hands in his. “I was so fucking dumb. I would have taken you with me in a heartbeat, but god I was too stupid and selfish to take ten minutes to think.”

“I thought maybe I’d done something,” you admit quietly. “I thought that maybe after the night market-”

“No! Oh my god, no,” he exclaims, his hands tightening around your own. “You’re my best friend! I lo-”

“Train 49–the Northern Limited–will be arriving on the platform in five minutes,” the stationmaster announces, not even bothering to use the building’s intercom. “I’ll take you over to the platform when you’re ready.”

Yoongi groans.

“Here.” You pull your hands away from him and immediately miss the warmth of him. But you reach into your pocket, unlocking your phone and shoving it into his hands in one motion. “Put your number in.”

For a moment, he stares at you, dumbfounded. But then the stationmaster opens the door to his office, and the noise jolts Yoongi into action. He types quickly and hands you your phone. You don’t even look at it, just lock it and shove it into your pocket. He hands you his phone and you enter your own contact information before giving it back.

You stand at the same time, and for one brief, quiet moment, you worry that maybe he’s just going to leave it at that. But then he rubs the back of his neck and glances toward the stationmaster.

“I’ll text you,” he promises.

You nod, almost mechanically. You weren’t expecting it to hurt this much to see him leave again. As he turns to gather his things, something comes over you.

“I- Can we-” You sigh, take a deep breath. “Can I have a hug?”

He makes a noise somewhere between a hum and a squeak, and it takes almost no time for the pink to start blossoming on his cheeks. He sputters for a second, and you can feel his shock. But then he opens his arms, and you find yourself taking a small step forward.

It’s shockingly easy to fall back into him, to step into his arms. He’s warm, and solid, but still also somehow soft. His cologne lingers on his clothes, all lavender-y and citrus-y and sage-y. Your arms fit around his waist, and for a moment, you let yourself pretend that this is normal, that nothing ever happened and that he isn’t leaving. But you hear the train horn in the distance and you pull away. You kiss his cheek as you part, and his eyes go wide in shock.

“Text me,” you tell him firmly, reaching down to grab his coffee mug and hand it to him.

“I will. I promise.”

And with one last, fleeting look, he steps onto the elevator with the stationmaster to go over to the platform.

You stand outside the station long after the train departs, feeling very much like you did when he’d left the first time. You should be feeling optimistic–for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe there’s hope. For you, for your friendship, for… whatever comes next. But it’s hard to feel any sort of positive when he’s on a train back to a city seven hours away, and you have to go home in the exact opposite direction in a few short days.

As you’re walking back to your car in the lot down the street, your phone dings. When you unlock it, you get the sudden feeling that you’re flying, like a horde of butterflies have erupted within you. It’s nerves and it’s excitement and maybe, it’s also a little bit of hope.

Yoongi 💙: thanks again for not turning me into a bug

“I’ve been thinking,” Yoongi says one late night, his deep, sleep-deprived voice distorted ever so slightly by the distance and the speakers of your phone. You can barely see him–there’s a dim light that just slightly illuminates his face, but the rest of the room is dark.

“Dangerous,” you joke.

“Rude.” He nuzzles down further into his pillow. “I’d like to come visit,” he admits softly.

For a moment, your mind goes blank. There’s a fluttering in your stomach, hundreds of butterflies trying to escape at once. He’d kept his word after the train station, texting and calling you frequently over the past couple weeks. You’d text throughout the week–little messages about bad days and delicious lunches and cute dogs–and then on the weekends, one of you would inevitably end up calling each other. You’d spend hours on the phone, sometimes talking, sometimes just existing in the silence between you.

The video calls were a recent development. Since they began, you’d watched him cook dinner, he’d played piano while you worked on a spreadsheet for work, and one early morning, he’d called you on his way home after bartending so he wouldn’t fall asleep on the train.

“What do you mean?” You laugh a little. Maybe it was a little obvious what he meant, but you wanted to hear him say it.

He groans a little, stretches one arm up before covering his eyes with it. He peeks out at you through the cook in his elbow, one singular, dark eye sparkling, even in the poor quality of the video. “I miss you,” he mumbles, and you almost don’t catch it, it’s so muffled by his arm and your phone’s speaker.

You hum. The butterflies in your stomach make themselves known again. “I guess you could come.”

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Hey now. It’s against the rules to take something like that back.”

He laughs. “What rules?”

“You know. The rules.” You gesture vaguely before pulling your blanket up a little further on your body. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the rules?” He grunts. “Being away for so long has rotted your brain, I’m afraid.”

“So rude.” His arm is still obscuring his face slightly, but you can see his big, gummy smile as he laughs. “No, but seriously. Are you busy next weekend?”

You frown. You’d been trying to forget about next weekend. “Normally I’d go home for the new year,” you say softly.

“Why don’t,” he begins, stifling a yawn. You’re a little surprised he’s made it this long without seeming tired. It’s almost 3am. “Why don’t I come hang out? We can do new year’s stuff together.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.”

“What about work?”

He shifts, the arm that was over his face now supporting his head under his pillow. “I make the schedule. They’ll deal with it.”

“Yoongi.”

He continues on, ignoring you. “I can work the day shift and get a train right after work on Friday, but I wouldn’t get there until late, is that okay?”

You sigh. It would be nice to not spend the holiday alone. And it would be nice to see him again. Sure, you’ve been talking to him in one way or another, but it’s different than having him in person. You finally agree, and he shoots you a smug, sleepy smile.

The week passes at a glacial pace. Work is slow because of the break in classes for the upcoming holiday, and spending time in an empty library is infinitely less entertaining than you’d expect it to be. Most of your coworkers have taken off, so you’re mostly alone with your thoughts. You fill the time with paperwork, completing literature loan requests for the University’s faculty and doing intake for the newly released journals the library has subscriptions for.

In the small handful of weeks since you’d seen him last, you’d replayed things in your mind. But mostly, you’ve been stuck on how nice it is to have him in your life again. You aren’t fooling yourself. You haven’t forgotten. But there’s a part of you–a large part, if you’re honest with yourself–that hopes that this is a step forward, that you can be close again. Maybe not how you were, but something that resembles a friendship.

After an eternity, it’s Friday. You sit outside of the train station in your car, parked in one of the pick up spots just outside of the main door. The trickle of people into and out of the station has slowed significantly now that it’s dark out–you’ve never seen it this dead. It’s late, the station is getting ready to close, but there’s one last train that has yet to come in. There’s another car parked a few spaces to your left, and you wonder briefly about who they’re waiting to pick up, but it’s fleeting.

The door to the station opens automatically, and out steps Yoongi. He rolls a suitcase beside him, a messenger bag slung across his body, his other hand shoved deep into his hoodie pocket. He looks around, confused, his gaze going back and forth between your car and the one to your left. You turn on the dome light and wave and he nods.

He gives you a quick greeting as he opens the back door, shoving his bags in the back seat. When he finally climbs into the passenger seat, he sighs deeply, resting his head against the headrest for a moment before turning to you.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey. How was the train?”

He groans. “Long.”

You hum. He’d worked a short, early shift so he could catch the last train from Ulmae to Ashland. He looks and sounds exhausted. But he’s here. He’s not a face on a screen, he’s in your car. You resist the urge to reach out and touch him. It’s strange. You’d been without him for nearly 13 years. It’s only been a few short weeks since you’d seen him last, but you’re giddy, practically bursting with excitement at the fact that, for the next two and a half days, he’s here. With you.

You drive in relative silence, willing the lights to be green more for Yoongi’s sake than your own. The radio plays a soft hip-hop song, and you vaguely recognize it as one of the bands he’d been obsessed with in high school, but you don’t turn it up. You’re fairly certain that he’s fallen asleep, his head lolled slightly to the side so that he’s facing the window.

It’s a damn miracle that there’s an open spot in front of your building, but you gladly take it. There are people in your building who don’t know how to parallel park—who refuse to do it—but you’d taught yourself just for instances like this. For a moment, you think you’re going to have to wake Yoongi up, but just as you cut the engine, he unbuckles his seat belt and stretches.

Your apartment isn’t large, but it’s bigger than most for what you pay for it. You’re on the seventh floor, the top floor of the building, and your bedroom has a lovely view of the building beside you. But if you lean a little to one side and press your face up against the glass, you can see out into the city beyond, and the university campus in the far distance.

He sits his bags down in your living room and plops down on the couch. You’ve already set out some blankets and a couple pillows for him. The clock on your microwave says 11:05.

“You’re probably exhausted,” you say. “I’ll let you get settled.”

Immediately, he picks his head up from the back cushion of the couch. “’m not tired.” Ever defiant. But you can tell he’s lying. You can see it in his eyes how groggy he is. Normally, he’s up much later than this–you know, because sometimes, he calls you–but between working an early shift and the six-hour train ride, you don’t blame him for being a little sleepy.

“I put some towels out in the bathroom,” you tell him, gesturing down the hall. “It’s the door on the left. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks.”

And with that, you leave him there in your living room. You can hear him unzipping his bag as you retreat into your room.

An hour later, you find that you can’t sleep. Not that you’ve even tried. You aren’t even sure why you’re so wired. But you’re sitting in your bed, legs covered by a sheet, in the dim light of your bedside lamp. You’ve had friends stay over before. But this… you feel like you did as a kid, having your first sleepover. Except back then you were wired on soda and sugary snacks and it was a treat to stay up late. Now, you’re just…

You hear the bathroom door open and shut, and after a moment, Yoongi stands in the doorway to your room.

“You have the softest towels in the world,” he says, hair hanging in damp strands in front of his eyes. He pats and scrunches it dry with one of the fluffy grey towels you’d set out for him.

“Would you believe I got them on clearance?”

“I’ll just have to stuff one in my bag, then.”

“I charge a 5% fee for any towels that leave the premises.”

At that, he laughs, a groggy, squeaky sound that shakes his shoulders and crinkles his eyes and leaves a wide, gummy smile in its wake.

“So… what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“I haven’t really thought about it.” He shoots you a look that says he doesn’t believe you, and you relent. “Well,” you pat the bed beside you, inviting him to sit, “There’s this thing every year in the park to watch the meteors,” you say as Yoongi eases himself onto the mattress. “But it doesn’t start until late.” He hums. “Was there something you wanted to do?”

“No, just-” He stifles a yawn. “Curious.” He leans back against the headboard, settling in.

Just like that, you fall easily into conversation. It’s comfortable, calm. Just two old friends chatting. He likes your apartment, thinks the tile in your bathroom is really nice. He asks about your job, nods along as you tell him about working in the library and your coworkers.

And slowly, his reactions become slower, delayed, until he finally doesn’t respond at all. You look over, and his chin is tucked against his chest, his breathing gentle. Asleep.

For a moment, you consider going out to the couch. It would be weird, right, to stay here with him? But as you’re about to kick the blanket off, you pause.

We’re adults. Adults can share a bed. It doesn’t have to mean anything. You’re mature enough to let this just be two people sleeping in the same space.

At least, you think you are.

But as you settle in yourself, snuggling down into your blankets and turning off the light, you’re suddenly faced with the quiet peacefulness of his face. He’d always been handsome, and now that you’re both older, you can appreciate just how beautiful he really is. He sighs and slides down a little, his hand brushing against your arm as he gets more comfortable.

Oh no.

You sit on the floor of your living room, a box of pizza on the coffee table that you’ve shoved out of the way. Yoongi’s beside you, your backs against the couch as you watch some anime he’d been trying to convince you to watch back in high school. You’re three episodes in, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t really care for the basketball-themed show. Part of you is still afraid that if you say something wrong, he’ll be gone again.

His arm rests casually behind you on the cushions, far enough away that it’s more a comfortable way to sit than any sort of advance, but that doesn’t stop the smallest of butterflies from making itself known in your stomach. This Yoongi is so different from the Yoongi you knew—the one who, as a kid, got excited by construction equipment and the concept of ice cream, and as a teen spent his free time hiding from his parents, playing the piano and hanging out with you (though neither were mutually exclusive). He’s quiet, comfortable in the silence, comfortable with letting things linger.

You’re a little jealous of it, to be honest.

Yoongi leans forward slightly, and a piece of pizza meets him halfway, floating gently into his grasp. “Do you remember,” he begins, settling back in against the couch, “when we were 16 and we went camping?” You hum an affirmative. “We spent most of the week playing old board games with my parents.”

You smile at the memory. If anyone had asked back then, you would have told them it was lame that you’d had to spend the whole time with Yoongi’s parents. But now? That was one of the more fun summers you’d ever had. “What made you think of that?”

He shrugs, mouth full of pizza. “I dunno. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently. Things were so much simpler then…”

You nod and hum softly, but ultimately, you say nothing. Much simpler indeed.

“You know,” Yoongi begins, zipping his coat up to his chin, “when you said ‘park’, I was kind of expecting it to be in the city.”

“I think technically it is.” You lock your car and meet him at the front of it.

“We drove for an hour!”

You shrug. “Big city.”

He laughs and shakes his head, incredulous. He can’t tell if you’re being serious or not, but there was a sign on the way in with the university logo on it, so he supposes that whether it’s part of the city or not, it doesn’t really matter. There’s a well-lit trail that runs from the shale parking lot up a hill slightly to a clearing that overlooks the city and the rest of the park. It’s busy–people mill about around the parking lot, and he can see a steady stream of visitors on the trail up to the clearing.

He adjusts his coat–it’s cold, and both his shoulder and his senses ache with the impending snow–and when he’s ready, the two of you start walking toward the trail. It’s astonishingly busy, and as you weave your way through the crowd, leading him up the hill, he grabs your hand.

So we don’t get separated, he tells himself. For a moment, he expects you to pull away. Not maliciously, he’s not expecting you to scoff and throw his hand away. But what he isn’t expecting is for you to tighten your grip on him and tug him this way and that as you get closer to the clearing. His hand is warm where your skin touches his, like he’s holding a candle a little too close to the flame.

The clearing is massive, mostly flat but not entirely, with gentle rolling slopes that provide some extra elevation here and there. On one of the little hills, a few food trucks are set up, though how they got there, Yoongi isn’t really sure. Someone must have magicked them through the path or up the hill or something. There are picnic tables scattered around, mostly near the food trucks, but throughout the clearing, as well. Towards the edge of the clearing, there’s a cliff with an overlook that has a spectacular view of the city vista below. People are everywhere. Of course, there are a lot of college-aged kids hanging out in big and small groups. But there’s also a shocking amount of people that are Yoongi’s age and older–professors, he assumes, and university staff here to enjoy the evening. Almost all of them are holding drinks, and just about every one of them seems to be paired with someone.

It’s subtle sometimes, seeing bonded witches and familiars. Of course, the ones who are romantically involved tend to be more obvious, but the ones that are just friends are just as easy to spot once you know what to look for. It’s the people who stand so close together they’re almost touching, the ones who lean in a little extra close to whisper something. And the clearing is full of pairs standing in each other’s personal spaces.

You tug on his hand to direct him off to the left and he blindly follows, squeezing your fingers ever so gently as a response.

There’s a pair of people at one of the tables by the food trucks. They spot you almost immediately, and one of them stands to greet you. He’s a little taller than you are, made even more obvious when he gives you an awkward, one-armed hug over the picnic table’s bench. The other one–a woman–remains seated, eyeing Yoongi.

For a hot minute, it’s weird, as he stands there in silence while you chat with the man and woman. It’s not even the side-eye that the woman’s shooting him. The man is handsome–Yoongi’s not blind–and you are friendly with him. But there’s a moment, the briefest of moments, where you gesture somewhere off to your left. And when your body moves, Yoongi’s arm moves, too, and a little part of him, a silly, childish, hopeful part, soars.

You’re still holding his hand.

Eventually, you introduce him to the two. Alice works the reference desk in your library while she’s doing a doctorate program in linguistics. Her partner is gone in the winter, fighting fires in the far south. Despite her harsh side-eye, she greets Yoongi with a smile and a polite handshake. Jihwan, on the other hand, is the head baseball coach at the university. How the two of you met, Yoongi can only guess, but you make no mention of Jihwan’s partner, and Yoongi doesn’t see a gem anywhere. He almost–almost–starts to feel bad for the guy, but then he opens his mouth.

You ask a simple question, gesturing with your head to the food trucks. “What do they have good?”

“The pierogi guy from last year is back-”

Jihwan interrupts Alice. “Too much butter.”

It’s not even what he says. It’s how he says it. Like you and Alice are toddlers, like you can’t be trusted not to drown yourselves in carbs. But you roll your eyes and Alice scoffs playfully, and Yoongi realizes that this is not the first time Jihwan has done something like this. And suddenly, Yoongi hates this guy.

“Apparently, he’s got a new flavor this year,” Alice says, continuing like Jihwan never interrupted. “But the taco guy is also back-”

“Is the popcorn guy back?” you ask. laughing. “Because I kind of want a front-row seat to that.” Yoongi must look confused, because you explain. “Pierogi guy’s daughter was engaged to taco guy’s daughter. But last year, pierogi guy and taco guy just started yelling at each other-”

“-It was amazing,” Alice adds.

“It was ridiculous,” Jihwan mumbles.

You push him. “It was a little like having our own little telenovela here.”

Cautiously, Yoongi asks, “Why were they fighting?”

“No one knows.” You shrug. “But it launched a campus-wide food war. Everyone was choosing sides. It was like the year the Moondance tried to change its logo.”

Jihwan and Alice look at you, a little confused. But Yoongi knows exactly what you’re talking about. Somewhere around when you were preteens, the owners of the Moondance diner decided that its logo was outdated and wanted to update it. The whole town had been in an uproar, whole neighborhoods entering into a Cold War-esque stand-off over their preferences. People who had been friends for 50 years were suddenly in an unsolvable, unending argument. All over a color palette swap and a slightly newer font. Yoongi hadn’t cared much one way or the other–all businesses change their logos at some point, right?–and he always suspected that you didn’t either, but you’d both gotten swept up in the chaos of it all. It was stupid, ridiculous fun, and he’s pretty sure that his parents still have the buttons you’d made somewhere in their house.

You finally let go of Yoongi’s hand when you’re standing in line at the taco truck, and he’s painfully aware of how empty it feels now. You don’t go far, though, standing close enough that your elbow brushes against his every once in a while. You’re scrolling through your phone, reading some news article to pass the time. It’s gotten darker since you’ve been there, and looking up, he can just barely make out a couple pinpricks of stars in the sky. The clearing is fairly bright, with little flickering balls of light criss-crossing the space like bistro lighting, and the lights from the city below don’t help to make the night sky visible.

You pay for his tacos–”I get an employee discount,” you say, brandishing your university id like it’s a black card–and Yoongi doesn’t think that you were in line that long, but when you return to the table, Alice and Jihwan are gone.

“Where’d-” He’s not even asked the question, but you’re already shrugging.

“Alice’s probably off calling her fiance,” you say it like you’re back in high school, all singsong-y and mockingly, “and who knows where Jihwan got to. Probably trying to take someone home tonight.”

“He seems…”

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“How’d you meet him?”

A pang of… something hits him. Your expression falls, ever so slightly, and he regrets asking. But after a brief moment, you clear your throat. “He and I are the only two on campus without gems.”

Oh.

Well.

That makes sense.

“So they…”

You pick a piece of red cabbage off your taco and eat it. “Yeah, they know.”

Which explains Alice’s side-eye earlier. The weird emotion he’d gotten from you is gone now, and you seem to have just brushed right past the awkward feelings.

He hums, not really sure what to say. What’s there to say? So instead of saying anything dumb, he does the safe thing. He changes the subject.

“No wonder they didn’t kick the taco guy out of the festival this year.” He takes another bite of his taco. “This is the best al pastor I’ve ever had.”

“His chimichangas are amazing, but he only makes them on special days.”

“More special than…?” He gestures vaguely. Around you, the lights have started to dim. Yoongi isn’t really sure when that started, but things are definitely less bright.

You laugh, and something inside of him warms.

He hasn’t even finished his tacos yet, but the vibe in the clearing starts to dramatically change. The crowd gathers tighter, a palpable buzz in the air. Alice has returned and stands alone near the head of the table. She’s looking up at the sky, and when Yoongi looks up, he sees why. There’s an aurora in the sky, gentle waves of effervescent greens and blues swirling through the heavens, just like the night market all those years ago. It has to be magic of some sort–the city isn’t far enough north for it to be natural–but he can’t tell who’s doing it.

A hand on his shoulder pulls his focus back to the ground. You’re there behind him, bathed in the dim glow of the floating lights around you. By now, it’s almost dark, but even in the low light and deep shadows, you’re beautiful.

“Come on,” you say softly. “Let’s get a good spot closer to the lookout.”

He follows you through the crowd, weaving around the bodies to get closer to the edge of the clearing. It’s tight, and you grab his hand so you don’t get separated. Normally, Yoongi isn’t a huge fan of crowds like this. You’re a small island in a sea of people, and he barely has room to turn in a circle without bumping into someone. You stand close–close enough that he can feel your warmth through the chill of the night.

The city spans the valley below, a forest of metal and windows and concrete. A bright spot in the middle of an otherwise dark night. But then, individually at first and then more, the buildings’ lights begin to flicker out.

“They’ve been doing this festival since before the city got public electricity,” you explain, answering his question before he could even ask. “It’s kind of a big deal.”

With the lights of the city mostly out, the stars above are much brighter. He can almost see them twinkling and winking as they burn, millions of billions of lightyears away. The night sky is beautiful, and his eyes drift around to locate the constellations he’d learned as a child. Almost immediately, he finds Perseus, right beside his wife Andromeda. You’d loved the myth of Perseus slaying Medusa when you were kids, and even though he hadn’t looked for the constellation in over a decade, finding it is still ingrained in him.

He nudges you slightly, pointing up to the constellation. But just as he does, a pinprick of light streaks across the sky. You squeeze his hand as more streaks start to appear and the gathered crowd buzzes with ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s. The meteors are all sizes. Big and bright. Small and thin. They aren’t constant, only a few show up every minute, but it’s beautiful to watch.

There’s a strange sensation growing in his chest, something warm and fluttering and all-encompassing. You lean a little closer and the feeling grows. You must sense something–he’s never really been sure what his emotions feel like for you–because you look up at him. For a moment, you look confused.

Yoongi isn’t really sure how it happens, but what he does know is that suddenly, your face is centimeters from his own. He thinks that maybe someone bumped you and you took a step closer, but maybe that’s just his brain trying to fill in the gaps. He also knows that he’s the one that closes the space between you, leans in and brushes his lips against yours. It’s quick, a little impulsive, and truthfully, it feels a little forbidden.

He pulls away, not far enough to make it seem like he’s made a mistake, but enough that it gives you an out, if you want it. His brain starts making all these calculations–what he should do if you back away, what he should do if you slap him, what if you don’t react.

But then you whisper, “Why’d you stop?” and your hand slides up his chest to grip the lapel of his coat. You tug with a surprising amount of force, and when your lips connect, he feels himself soaring.

His entire world narrows to the points where your bodies connect. The firm touch of your knuckles against his shirt, the way your leg presses against his, but mostly the heat from your lips as he deepens the kiss. You fit against him perfectly, as if you were made for each other. He’d only kissed you that one time, but somehow, he’d missed it, missed you.

When you finally pull away, you stay close, pressed against his chest–though whether that’s fully your choice or because of the crowd tightening around you is anyone’s guess. He can feel your heart pounding, and when you shoot him a small smirk, he’s pretty sure that you can feel the pace of his own pulse. Your grip loosens on the collar of his coat and you smooth it down coolly before your arm wraps around his back. Without a word, you cozy in, pressed close as your gaze returns to the sky and to the stars.

For a moment, he stands there, unmoving, mind empty. But then it’s like he snaps out of a trance, and he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. His focus shifts to the shooting stars above, catching one just as it streaks across the sky. As he stands there, staring at the heavens and feeling your steady breathing, his mind begins to wander.

12 years, 7 months, and 3 days. He’d spent most of that time wondering what would have happened if he hadn’t left. If, after he’d kissed you at the night market, he’d been satisfied with whatever life had come after that. He’d been so scared back then, of losing control, of his life not being his own. But now, none of that matters.

Now, he’d give up almost anything to stay here, in this moment, in your arms.

okay so like... what do we think? how are we feeling? I was originally planning on having this be much longer, but I was so stressed out from grad school, I just wanted to get it out now. I'm so excited to hear your thoughts! and let me know if you want to see a part 2 (and if so, what you might want to see in it!!)

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #suga fic #suga fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #min yoongi fic #min yoongi fanfic #myg x reader #bts soulmate au #bts supernatural au #set me free

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martian-astro10 · 5 months ago

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D9/ Navamsa chart observations - Part 4

Sun in 3rd shows that your spouse will either have a business of their own or even if they work for someone else, they'll be in a managerial position. As a result of this, your spouse will be focused more on their career than the marriage, and it could make you feel a bit lonely. (Jupiter in fire and water signs can balance this out)

Moon in 7th is a really good placement, i have seen this in the charts of female celebrities who have a handsome husband. so if we're going just by looks, then it's good. Your partner can be emotional and sensitive but they can also be moody, this placement is better if you have more earth signs in your chart. (i know a woman with this, and her husband is like okay but he can also be quite whiny sometimes, and also he acts like his hands are gonna fall down if he puts them inside the dirty dishes water, so, i just find him very annoying, so just make sure that there are planets in earth signs)

Mercury in 1st... I love it. A lot of "happily" married couples have it. This is a placement that makes you address the issues in your marriage. If you guys feel like there's something wrong, you're gonna approach your partner and talk to them about it. (i think that even if the conversation ultimately leads to divorce it's still better than just staying in a dull and loveless marriage, and if the problem gets solved, then great). I really have a soft spot for this one because a lot of strong women in my life have this and i just love the fact that they were brave enough to go against the society's rules, so if you have this placement, you're very very lucky and you'll have a good marriage, you know what you want and that's great. (this can also cause late marriage)

Venus in 1st, this one is not for your partner but for yourself, the number of celebrities that have this is just....shocking. If you want to work in the entertainment industry and you have this, go ahead, seriously, just give auditions, put videos on youtube, make reels, do it, you WILL be famous. (talking about the people that i know personally that have this placement, they're really creative as well, one of my sister's friend has sun conjunct Venus in 1st house and she's such a charismatic speaker and like really persuasive, this is helpful to her in regards to career, so even if you want to work in some other field, this placement makes you the best in that)

Mars in 4th.. I love this one as well. This makes your partner really protective of you and your kids (if you wish to have them). I used to think that this would make your spouse more protective of their parents (especially mother) rather than their partner, but I've been proven wrong, many many times. I have seen it play out right in front of my eyes, a lot of times, so I'll give examples. (if you're a woman, and your husbands family is talking shit about you, he won't like it at all and in some cases, may even move out of the house cuz they can't stand seeing you being humiliated. Another example, if you're being harassed then.. They're gonna get physical, and not because, someone touched THEIR wife, but because someone touched YOU, there's a huge difference. And if you're a man, you are LUCKY, your wife's gonna be like 5'1, but if someone's hurting you, she's gonna stand in front of you and be like "stop hurting my man, get the fuck away from him" and having that kind of support in your life is really rare)

Jupiter in 5th... DUDE, every person i know that has this have more than 2 kids, if its well placed then you're gonna be great parents and your children are gonna love you. Your partner is gonna love kids and that's why... More kids. If you're a woman, then please make sure that you marry someone who loves you just as much, because this is one of those placements that can cause "good parent but bad partner" thing. (I've also seen this placement in a lot of men's charts, who only marry a woman because they think she would make a good mother, which is not good, so be a little cautious of men with this)

Saturn in 10th, now if you're a woman and you have this, then please please marry a man who's okay with having a wife who's more career oriented (every woman should marry a man like that) but sometimes you'll see that a woman is forced to become a SAH wife and she's unhappy but she does it (even though she shouldn't) but women with this, they won't, they'll just get divorced instead, they DO NOT like staying at home (valid), a partner who encourages you to pursue your dreams will be the best. (i know a couple where the wife has this, he's a house husband but a good one, he actually does all the household chores and doesn't just laze around while his wife works, and they also love each other, and i love them 🥹)

Venus in 9th, i read on a lot of websites and books that these people should marry after 30 and i agree. An early marriage with this will lead to separation or an unhappy marriage. (i also noticed this to be true, but i couldn't find out WHY, like the reason). This is also an indicator of marrying someone from a different culture or background. Even more so if Venus is in movable signs.

Saturn in 5th, (bro my memory is so bad, i feel like I've already written about this but i can't fucking remember 😭😭), okay so this placement also delays childbirth, or you may end up having just one kid (which is not wrong), you may also have a kid after 30, Ranbir kapoor, priyanka chopra and deepika padukone have this. Even if you have ketu in 8th, this will happen because saturn has a stronger effect.

Mars in 2nd, this placement is like a double edged sword, your partner is gonna be a spendthrift but they manage to earn back that money just as fast, but here's the thing, it's like, you have to pay your rent on the 1st of a month, your partner uses that rent money to buy something for themselves, now you're stressed AS FUCK and on the 31st, out of nowhere, they're gonna give that same amount to you. I've seen this happen a lot. So you're just gonna be constantly stressed out. (this works well for people who themselves are spendthrifts, cuz none of you give a shit, so whatever)

#astroblr #astrology #vedic astrology #astrology content #astrology community #astro observations #navamsa chart #d9 chart #astro community #astro notes #vedic observations #vedic astro notes

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misserabella · 1 year ago

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sick love

perv! ellie williams x fem! reader

pt2

synopsis; you catch your best friend ellie touching herself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns her on even more. if only you knew she had been dreaming about this moment for her entire fucking life and that she has even planned for it to happen…

cw; really perv!ellie, dark themes, somnophilia (if you squint), breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom ellie for the first part but dominant on the end, p in v sex, cum eating, masturbation (ellie), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, slight stalking? (only if you really really squint), hair pulling, blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

‘Use me. Use me...’

Ellie was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed —that too— but in a really pervert way. Her sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and her, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were nowhere to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you’d invited Ellie for a sleep over.

Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen sleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. She found herself staring for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been sharing, her eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.

Full honesty? She didn’t even remember how her panties had gotten that fucking soaked nor how her hand had ended inside her pants, palm slick in precum as her fingers thrusted inside her slick cunt, bottom lip in between her teeth and soft moans and groans scaping her lips. But she didn’t care. She came so hard that night that she swore she saw stars on your living room’s ceiling.

After that, she of course felt awkward and embarrassed of herself around you. Masturbating to her sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when she found herself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.

She relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against her neck, your tits fully pressed to her chest and whimpers making her pussy drool, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for her to stop as she beat the shit out of them.

She liked to see you cry, but if it wasn’t because of her, she wouldn’t have it. She sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared to get a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up, so she always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to herself. Like it had to be. You were hers, or you’ll be.

You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, “Fuck! I cant found my chapstick.” her shrugging even when she knew that she was, in fact, the thug. Then, she’d go back to her house and open the last drawer of her desk — which she had under key— and take the same chapstick out of her pocket to push it inside along with the other things she had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets… Panties.

She loved them. She almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs… She loved the ones that she stole from the dirty laundry the most, which’s crotch she would push against her nose and lick as she fucked herself. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove her crazy.

Another thing Ellie loved to do was take photos of you. She had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. She loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat… Being simply you.

But she also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for her. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body —facing away from the door of your bathroom— when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that you’d wear. She even had one of you resting asleep on her lap, lips parted and against her clothed cunt. She saved some of them on her wallet in case she ever had to take care of herself when she hung out with you.

She was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to her porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to her cum.

And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of her infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case she ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if she ever felt lonely in her empty house. At first, before her infatuation appeared, she would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for her to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now she snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. She had licked her cum out of your fingers when she had used your hand to masturbate, having to hold in her moans and whimpers. Other nights, she would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push her head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as her hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish her head.

She loved it when you played with her hair, groaning when you’d pull from it when she’d tickle you, and laughing when you’d scream at her for using your good conditioner after a pool day. She was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, smelling you on her skin to fuck herself while she showered in your house.

She would stole food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in her mouth. You’d always whine about it, but she never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving her full access to it when you were full.

Ellie considered herself to be a woman with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. She would love to fuck you to her liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call her daddy. She thought of herself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of her numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked her and fucked her, using her like you’d use a fucking toy. She had woken up with a raging orgasm as from her lips fell the word ‘mommy’.

Was she a pervert? Absolutely. Would she ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.

She’d prefer to die with this feelings than ever telling you she loved you. She was just terrified of the thought of you pushing her away or ever hurting your friendship.

So after a day full of what she thought of ‘teasing’, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at her for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that she always bought you, she would come to her house and enter her room with slick coating her thighs. She would pull out of the back of her closet her pussy-shaped toy and her strap and spray one of her pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend her other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for her cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And that’s what she’d do, fuck her stupid little toy with her face fully buried on the perfumed one as she imagined you under her, ass up and chest pushed against her bedsheets. Her pace was needy, harsh and deep, the back of the strap bumping against her clit and from her mouth dirty talking spilling. ‘Yeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.’ ‘That’s a good girl for daddy.’ Those were always the best orgasms, making herself cum over and over again when she couldn’t found herself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasn’t your pussy what she fucked in between whimpers.

She sometimes would leave her house’s and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching her red handed.

But they were all just dreams, they weren’t supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there she was, and so were you.

That day she had come with a really painful ache in between her thighs. You’d been sitting on her lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that you’d be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that she had found herself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your friends, laughing with them and jumping on her lap when the jokes were too good. Well, she was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found her hair and slowly massaged her scalp, every now and then pulling at her hair when you played with her locks, her hands trembling on your thighs —which spread sideways across from hers— thumbs circling your soft skin.

The fact that you were using her. The fact that she felt used by you and only you, was what had her gritting her teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Ellie was a good girl, so she just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of her mouth. She felt like breathing once again when you got up from her lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when she no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against her.

“Fuck, y/n…” she whimpered when she plopped on her bed, her palm pushing hardly against her pulsing and aching cunt, precum staining her jeans and underwear. She had pulled out from her closet her fleshlight and strap, since she felt that her hand would not be enough today. She had to fuck herself. “Please, fuck me, please…” she was a babbling mess when the tip pushed inside the lubed toy and her clit rubbed against the strap. “Use my cock, baby… Use me…” she found himself whimpering at her mind scenario, in which you would ride her relentlessly, her dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that you’d torture to make yourself cum all over her cock. “Fuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good… Ah, faster.” she was a babbling mess, her hips rutting upwards against her hand movements to fuck her cock deeper in the toy.

“Els!!!” you had called from downstairs as you opened her unlocked front door. Ellie always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a film she had been dying to watch for months and for which she had cried after finding out that it had been banned and would never get to the town’s Film Store. After seeing just how badly she wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the city’s center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. “I have a surprise for you!!” you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didn’t hear and answer from her. “Ellie?” you called out again, the soft sound of her voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving her a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching her room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.

“Fuck, just like that. Faster, please…” was she with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Ellie fucking with some random girl that wasn’t you. You’ve liked her for years on end, since the first time that she held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But she never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasn’t friendly, so, in the end, —being too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendship— you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that she had to be just what she was; your best friend.

Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached her slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was she fucking, promising yourself that you’d leave once you’ve taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out she was not fucking anyone but herself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as her hips fucked upwards, inside her pussy-shaped flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from her lips new groans and moans fell. Ellie was fucking touching herself, desperately rubbing her cunt against the strap, slick on her thighs. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You needed to get away from there. Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You’d go back to your house and forget all about it… Or that’s what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.

She looked so hot and pretty all needy… Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, eyebrows pushed together as her head fell back against her pillow, hair messy all over it. Her hand was slow, pushing the toy down on her cock in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see just how long and thick it was, her thrusts making the lube’s wet sounds fill the room. “Ah, fuck…” her voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadn’t bit down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friend’s lips. “Fuck, y/n…, mommy…, please, fuck, fuck, fuck…” your eyes widened, not only because…, fuck, Ellie was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because she had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Ellie’s movements stopped, her gaze moving to her opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and tape in hand.

She quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under her breath when she sat up, a pillow hiding the strap, clit throbbing at the sight of your trembling legs. “Fuck, y/n, I…” she didn’t even know what to say. You had caught her, caught her fucking herself with her goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught her moaning your name. She felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught her… Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at her while she pleasured herself. She had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. “How much did you hear?” she cursed when you didn’t answer, cheeks reddening and hole twitching under the pillow, leaking against her thigh.

“Mommy.” you said, making her head snap back to you, a frown on her face, eyes widening when you let the film fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to her bed.

“W…What?” fuck.

“ ‘Mommy’. That’s what you called me.” you smirked, eyes falling to her lap when she pushed the pillow further down. “Who would think that you would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as you fuck yourself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.” she stuttered as she shook her head.

“It’s not what it seems like, I…”

“You what?” you pushed, thumb and index gripping her chin so her eyes would find yours. “Are you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?” she moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. “Mmh? Answer me.” you ordered and she whimpered, your pussy clenching when she shook her head and cried out a ‘no’. “ ‘No’ what?” your lips brushed against hers, teasing her to get out of her what you wanted.

“No, mommy.” you pulled her hair when she tried to kiss you, making her groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. “Please…” she pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on her lap.

“Only good girls get a kiss, Els.”

“I’m a good girl…” she was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussy…

“Oh yeah?” she nodded, her tongue dampening her lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered her almost naked body. “The why don’t you show me?” she shivered when your lips latched to her neck, your tongue pressing against her skin in open mouth kisses that led to her ear. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?” she moaned, muttering a ‘fuck’ as she nodded, making you smirk. “Then go ahead, baby, let me see.” you pulled away as she pushed the pillow off her lap, pussy twitching and thighs soaked in slick.

In the state she was… She would do anything for you. She would even fuck herself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.

She moaned when you sat down on her desk’s chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. Her hands were shaking when her fingers gripped around the clear silicone or her toy, whimpering when she noticed your eyes on her strap.

It was big —if not massive—, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew she could give it to you, that she would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on the shaft with your tongue and take it so deep on your throat you’d whimper at the pain of your jaw. “Aw, poor Ellie…” you cooed at her. “Caught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesn’t it baby?” she nodded, tears on her eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. “Are you gonna cum for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Els?” she moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to her reaction. She liked that.

Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.

“Yes, yes, yes…” she muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing her cum making her go crazy. She whined when and tortured her bottom lip with her teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for her to see. “Fuck…” she cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breasts— hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingers— and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. “Shit, y/n.”

Her pussy was drooling like crazy with every new and fast thrust of her hips, pleads falling off her lips with every brush against her clit. ‘I need you. Need you so bad, y/n…’ ‘Please mommy…’ ‘I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum…’

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum?” You clicked your tongue when she nodded, chuckling at her behavior. “Look at how pathetic you look.” she whimpered when you had made your way back to her side, standing in front of her and making her head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on her hair, making her hips stutter and breathy whines rip her throat. “Hold it. I haven’t told you to cum yet.” she cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. “Fuck, you are too fucking loud.” you said and she had to squeeze the toy and stop her movements to not come when you pushed your damped panties into her mouth, slicked crotch flat against her tongue. Her muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, her eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when she could take a taste on just how sweet you were. She choked on the lace when you startled her legs. Her eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for her to see, thin strips of slick connected them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. “Here. Cum on my pussy.” you said, leaning on the skin of her neck to suck a hard hickey on her flesh as you pushed aside her strap, exposing her swollen and reddish soaked pussy.

You didn’t even had to say it twice, her hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to push you down on her and cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when her white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, her mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on hers. You hummed as you stroked her hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across her chest. She was still fucking horny. “Good girl…” you cooed, placing the strap back on top of her cunt, loving just how fucked out she seemed. She moaned when you sat on her cock, its length in between your wet folds and the tip bumping against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” she cried out with your panties on her mouth when you rocked your hips against hers. That’s all it took for her to cum for a second time, right after her first orgasm. You were gonna fuck her, shit, you were gonna fuck her cock…

You moaned, feeling her nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy against the silicone due to the amount of slick that coated it. “You came again, baby?” she nodded, moaning due to your humping, overstimulating her clit. “Fuck, Els…” you pulled your panties away from her mouth, wanting to hear her groans. “Look at you, making a mess of my cunt.” you were fucking soaked for her.

“Fuck, y/n…” your name sounded so wonderful falling from her lips… “Please, can I… Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. I’ll make you feel good, I promise, I’ll be good…” you pulled her bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. “I promise. I promise mommy…” your thumb brushed your own lips when she leaned in, pupils blown and need on her green thin irises. She looked high. And she was, high on her favorite drug: you.

You nodded, giving in, and gasped when she had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, her hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, her hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a ‘The prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, fuck.’. You were tugging on her hair as she played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering her lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which she quickly discarded away on her bedroom floor. She pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on her pillow —the same she had fucked multiple times while thinking about you—, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. She moaned, pussy aching, ‘cause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for her.

She didn’t waste time in parting your thighs —which she took her time with, and of course she would, she had been dreaming about making them bleed for years now—, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on her hair. “Ellie…” you whined when she bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. She was so drunk on your skin… She could spend her whole life kissing it that she would never get fucking tired of it. But her teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed her mouth on it now. And she seemed to get it when you pushed her further against it, her hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above her shoulders as she sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when her tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, her due to just how much she had dreamed about the taste of your pussy —which she had tasted before, but only clothed— and you to how many times you had touched yourself with her mouth in mind. Her name falling off your lips on a whimper had her hips rocking against the duvet as she ate you out sweet and slow.

It was only when her fingers found their way to your entrance that she started to eat you just like you needed and she always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming her name when her fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving to hit your g spot as her tongue circled your clit. It was just then when you understood the rumors that went around in your highschool about her mouth. Ellie knew how to use it, really well. So well that she had you tipping the edge in less than ten minutes. She was like a starved woman, burying her face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in her tongue. “Fuck, Els, I…” you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on her hair. She knew you were close by how moans fell of those pretty lips of yours over and over again. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, Ellie crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

She moaned, begging for it. “Please cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, please…” you whined when her tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Ellie drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled her bedroom.

You mewled when once you’d come down from your high, her tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on her wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called for her. She whimpered when you tugged on her hair, pulling her away from your pussy as you sat up. She looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. “Please, just a little bit more, mommy…” she begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on her mouth. “Please, I need it…” your eyes fell to her strap, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where she had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took it in your hand, making her bite down on her lips.

“I’ll let you choose where to cum next, Els.” you said, your other hand coming to her cheek to rub the flush on her skin. “I could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourself…” her hole twitched to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped her face left her to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for her to see. “Or you could cum inside of me.” her eyes rolled to the back of her head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. “What do you say, Ellie? Where do you want to cum, baby?” she was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling off her lips as she leaned on you, eyes on your own.

“Inside.” she found herself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering her the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had her reeling. If only she could really cum inside, she’d make sure to do it over and over again until your belly would swell.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered against her lips, her nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with her own. “You wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?” you gave her a sweet smile when she moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of her mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. “Then come here, Els.” she was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive her there, hands on her neck when she leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which she didn’t even need since you were now entering your tongue in her mouth, making her groan. Fuck, she could come just with that. With your tongue in her mouth, your body against her and the thought that you were only letting her fuck you to seek your own release. She moaned on your open mouth when you took her dick to align it with your entrance. You needed her, and you needed her now. “Fuck, baby, please fuck me Ellie, please, please…” you whimpered, and she didn’t wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the other’s as she bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight, mommy, so tight… Shit.” she was struggling to move at how hard your walls were swallowing her. Your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving her full access to your neck, which she kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. She was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. Her stretch had you delirious, her tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of her back, making her groan. The two of you were taking your time, her letting you get used to the feeling of her heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges you’d only dreamed of getting to. She groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against her. “Please y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to… I need to…”

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl for me and let me use your cock, alright?” she whimpered at your words, and in less than one second she had you gripping to her back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. “Oh fuck, yeah Ellie, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me…”

She was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. Her hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on her cock, just as desperate as her. She was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. “Fuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyou…” she was a mess. Both of you were. Her thrusts had you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in her. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrusts, making your nails dig up on her back, probably leaving marks.

“Fuck, Ellie, fuck, I’m close, shit, I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered on her ear, making her fuck you harder.

“Cum on my cock, mommy, please, please… Use me. Use me…” she begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over her dick as she fucked you dumb, her hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.

The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was her name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. “Ellie, Ellie, Ellie…”

“Shit, Imma cum, I’m cumming so fucking hard… Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonna…, fuck!” her thrusts became sloppier. “Im gonna cum, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming.”hips thrusted one, two, three more times before she finally came. She was whimpering ‘mommy’ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting the back of her strap and her thighs.

“Shit, fuck, Ellie. So good…” you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness as she had stilled up to the base inside of your swollen and used cunt. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. “Ellie!” Though you really couldn’t even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against her pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when she pulled you up from your ass, her cock ramming inside of your soaked pussy. You cried out when her hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, were you, ‘mommy’?” you could hear the teasing in her voice. “I’m sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didn’t you?” you couldn’t really comprehend how her mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Ellie had you cumming so hard on her cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around her dick in anticipation. “Well, I hope you did, ‘cause now is my fucking turn.”

a/n; I NEEDED TO OKAY? I NEEDED TO MAKE A SICK LOVE ELLIE VERSION SORRY!! 🩵

7K notes · View notes

dannyricsmirrorball · 5 months ago

Text

opposite • aa23 ੈ✩‧₊˚

she looks nothing like me so why do you look so happy? now I think I get the cause of it, you were holding out to find the opposite.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ pairings || alex albon x singer!reader, alex albon x lily muni he

ੈ✩‧₊˚ genre || social media au

ੈ✩‧₊˚ summary || based on sabrina carpenter's opposite. after an abrupt break up, alex begins to show of his new relationship while reader reflects on their relationship.

alt. he was holding out to find the opposite

ੈ✩‧₊˚ warning || sad, kind of alex hate but also not idk

ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n || ok ok first ever alex fic i hope u guys like! also absolutely no lily hate, she’s my fave fr but anything that seems like lily hate is just plot purpose i love her! i also never use blonde face claims but for the purpose of the song narrative i thought it made sense x

liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon, and 198,028 others

yourusername 😋

tagged alex_albon

username34 the cutest couple evaaaaa

williamsracing our favourites💙

⤷ yourusername love you admin

username72 mum&dqd frfr

carmenmmundt linda 🩵

alex_albon candid 😍

⤷ yourusername fuck off

georgerussell63 resorting to shirtless pics. shameless albono 😦

⤷ alex_albon taking a page out of your book georgie

⤷ yourusername im not complaining 🙃

liked by williamsracing, logansargeant, and 109,992 others

yourusername recent flicks

tagged alex_albon

username71 y/n in the studio!!!

⤷ username18 are we finally getting new music?!

francisca.cgomes 😍😍😍

username2 alex on the vespa w his helmet 😫

landonorris ugly shoe twins

⤷ yourusername ugly papaya twins @oscarpiastri

⤷ oscarpiastri wtf-

rachelzegler u finally got ur ass back in the studio 🌟

carmenmmundt eres hermosa 🩷

⤷ yourusername 😘😘😘

alex_albon my beautiful girl

⤷ yourusername gag

⤷ alex_albon ig ill just fuck off then

⤷ yourusername also so you are on ur phone…

⤷ alex_albon my phone is on dnd baby 😩

liked by charles_leclerc, albon_pets, and 309,028 others

alex_albon lately with my lady 😋

tagged yourusername

username17 albon winning everyday

francisca.cgomes run away with me @yourusername

⤷ yourusername im coming baby

⤷ username10 fork found in kitchen

danielricciardo albon.jpg when?

username4 she’s so cutieful

username12 height difference 😫

username6 backwards cap alex u do things to me

liked by yourusername

yourusername this is really sweet ☹️

⤷ alex_albon gag

f1 the dynamic duo of our dreams 🏎️🎤

liked by username8, username91, and 24,098 others

f1updates happy 6 year anniversary to our fave couple!

tagged alex_albon, yourusername

username1 holy shit SIX YEARS?!

username23 all the people who said she’s only with him for money and fame finding out she’s been with him since b4 f1 and they’ve known eachother since high school

⤷ username4 he dropped out so…?

⤷ username23 sorry i should’ve clarified i meant like teenagers bc it was when y/n was in high school, they met bc her brother did karting with alex

username46 alex and his peace sign are unstoppable

username3 their height difference has moved me

⤷ username8 tall bf and his 3x🍎 tall gf

username61 betting on a 💍 this year

⤷ username43 same they’re sooo endgame

username12 if they break up love is dead

liked by georgerussell63, patrickh_coach, and 450,982 others

alex_albon happy anniversary bunny 🐰❤️

tagged yourusername

comments have been limited by creator

yourusername love u loser

yourusername my honey bear 🥰

⤷ alex_albon your duality

liked by francisca.cgomes, susiewolff, and 309,092 others

yourusername happy anniversary to my favourite person, six years around the sun with the love of my life. to the person who makes me laugh and smile,, i will never stop writing songs about my eternal muse. to forever with you ❤️

tagged alex_albon

username81 oh god i’ve never felt more single

carmenmmundt my faves ❤️

username9 parentssss

francisca.cgomes happy anniversary to the most talented brilliant amazing wonderful person i know and her chauffeur 💝

georgerussell63 how’ve you dealt with him for that long? 😳

⤷ yourusername he’s been your boyfriend much longer x

username8 i will never stop writing songs about my eternal muse GOD WHEN IS IT MY TURN

⤷ username71 oh to be y/n y/l/n’s muse

username44 SIX YEARS?! i remember her first tour when she adjusted all the dates to follow the f2 calendar 🥹

username02 wish my camera roll looked like that

⤷ williamsracing ours lowkey does 😅

albon_pets happy anniversary y/n🐰 and alex 🐼! let’s get nandos to celebrate ❣️

natalie_pinkham question finally popped?! 😍

⤷ yourusername not yet! hahaha

⤷ username19 six years and no ring…

username92 come on albono put a ring on it

username7 don’t know how albon pulled it off but he better lock it down soon

username5 bro propose already

username42 i feel bad for y/n

⤷ username16 she should cut her losses

username16 how has he not gotten down on one kneee yet jesus

username63 STILL NOT RING?

2 weeks later

liked by carmenmmundt, luisinhaoliveira99, and 320,828 others

yourusername know it’s for the better 🫤

username71 waiting room lyrics? i fear parents have divorced

username23 do we think they broke up?

⤷ username63 don’t even joke lad

username11 have they broken up?

username17 they haven’t posted or been seen together and they unfollowed… i think it’s over

phoebebridgers 🩶

luisinhaoliveira99 pretty girl ❤️‍🔥

username45 she’s in the studio so on the up side new music?

⤷ username12 remember when she said no more break up songs bc shes over the past and has nothing to be sad about in her relationship welp

francisca.cgomes banger song…

⤷ yourusername tiktok fix you mashup is even better 🙃

username27 NOOO THIS IS NOT FOR THE BETTER

username3 all i can think of is y/n commenting about the coldplay remix bc like “tears stream down your face when you lose something you can not replace”

⤷ username81 gonna end it all

liked by williamsracing, landonorris, and 309,727 others

alex_albon abu dhump ✌️out team ✌️we UP

tagged williamsracing

landonorris she broke

⤷ alex_albon 🤣

⤷ username1 wtf.

⤷ username17 this is not the same man that said y/n was the light of his life and sometimes the only good thing about it

username17 all men are the same.

username13 i reckon he’s salty y/n wouldn’t wait for him to be ready

username6 u were meant to be different ALEX

username52 could commit to a six year relationship but not marrying her… yeah ok

username17 yeah YOUR up

georgerussell63 congrats on the season mate must’ve had a great support system 🙂

⤷ username10 man is livid

⤷ username67 he’s basically lost one of his closest friends bc his best friend strung her along for over half a decade

⤷ username2 hmm i agree obviously it seems alex was the reason they broke up but acting like he didn’t love y/n is kinda crazy

liked by landonorris, yukitsunoda0511, and 450,029 others

alex_albon tis the sea-sun 🎅

landonorris all those bags for one?

⤷ alex_albon don’t pack light 😉

⤷ username82 there’s no fucking way

username81 guys it’s probably just a friend lol

username15 weird but ok

username17 they broke up let him move on 🙄

⤷ username27 two weeks ago…

username09 rip

username8 no way he’s already moved on

username27 guys this could just be a friendly trip like there are other people there as well

username61 y/n’s gone MIA and alex is out posting his thai land holiday

⤷ username7 people process things in different ways

liked by emmaraducanu, alex_albon, and 120,982 others

lilymhe 📍🇹🇭

username81 this is the girl in alex’s post?

username11 pretty!

username23 liked by alex albon…

username09 slaying the off season 😍

username7 who is this girl?

⤷ username4 she’s an american pro golfer in the lpga

carmenmmundt 😍

⤷ username71 rip parents are divorced and i think alex got gr and carmen

liked by lilymhe, landonorris, and 309,091 others

alex_albon new year new goals

username45 new year new gf lol

username6 albon tryna soft launch?

landonorris simp

username11 i wonder how y/n feels…

⤷ username3 this has to be a blow to the heart

⤷ username17 hope she has him blocked

williamsracing ready for the new szn albono 💙

username11 lily wearing his helmet ☹️

⤷ username4 same one y/n used to use…

⤷ username88 how do u know it’s her

⤷ username13 just guessing

username18 fucking hell

username61 and they told me people grieve in different ways…

liked by carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux, and 408,928 others

yourusername happy new year 🌟 been locked in the studio 🤍

username72 girl tryna play it cool but the tolerate it lyrics giving her away fr

username25 SIX YEARS

username42 she’s been locked in the studio while alex is out soft launching his new relationship lol

⤷ username7 new album about to hit

francisca.cgomes dress 😍

username61 “some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world”…

username7 some people making it sound like alex never lived y/n

⤷ username63 no i think it’s that he seemed to love we so much but his actions compared to y/n are very odd

carmenmmundt feliz año nuevo 🩷

⤷ username71 phew they’re still friends

username71 y/n out of hiding!!! 🥹

username6 rep era 🖤

⤷ username23 more like ttpd 😳

albon_pets happy new year y/n 🐰🥳

⤷ username18 she’s still their bunny 😖

liked by carmenmmundt, alex_albon, and 183,093 others

lilymhe ❣️

emmaraducanu wag duties ✌️

⤷ lilymhe 😂🥰

username17 yeah this really hit,, lowkey missing y/n

username7 she’s in bahrain?! welp

username55 awww she’s wearing his merch 🥹

⤷ username6 so cute she’s wearing the merch his ex gf helped design xx

username12 ok i love y/n but lily is soooo pretty

username63 new wag!

carmenmmundt love

williamsracing 💙

liked by username23, username16, and 23,099 others

f1updates new f1 couple confirmed! pro golfer and rumoured girlfriend of alex albon spotted in the paddock for the first time seemingly confirming the couples status. there is a lot of discourse among fans regarding how quick the williams driver has moved on from his last relationship with singer y/n y/l/n, the pair were together for six years after abruptly splitting following their six year anniversary.

tagged alex_albon, lilymhe

username63 i mean they’re cute but i miss y/n

username17 so cute 😍 much better suited to eachother

⤷ username82 i love that they’re both athletes so they understand each other more

username99 she matches alex’s energy 😍

username44 he looks so happy 🥹

username13 cute couple

username1 they will last i think

liked by lilymhe, williamsracing, and 299,928 others

alex_albon bahrain tested: car ✅ food ✅ greens ✅

tagged lilymhe

username71 HARD LAUNCH

lilymhe need to work on that swing

⤷ alex_albon yeah you should

⤷ lilymhe oh!

lilymhe pretty sweet caddy 🥰

williamsracing things we like to see 💪

username2 awww they’re so cute

username14 couple goals

username23 parents ❤️

username2 they’re perfect together

landonorris 🔥

liked by francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc, and 309,727 others

yourusername if i don’t laugh ill cry xx

francisca.cgomes sabes q és linda?

⤷ yourusername i love u

username1 prettiest

username09 stop she defs saw alex’s post

username23 all men do is lie

carmenmmundt ❤️❤️❤️

logansargeant sunscreen?? 🧴

⤷ yourusername so funny logs

⤷ username2 their friendship 🥰

username7 i feel so bad for her

username16 everyone breaks up she should get over it

username12 six years…

liked by alex_albon, williamsracing, and 239,029 others

lilymhe triple M dump 🇲🇨🇨🇦🇺🇸 with some ⛳️ in between

tagged alex_albon

username71 oh my god she’s the most beautiful girl in the world

alex_albon my beautiful girl

alex_albon wow 🤩

alex_albon prettiest in the universe bunny

⤷ lilymhe 🐰❤️

⤷ username62 THEY HAVE HIT THE PENTAGON

⤷ username3 he’s so?! not the bunny nickname… have some shame albono

username45 rip

username82 she is out of this world 😍

username43 idk if anyone knows what im talking about but i remember this interview a couple of years ago where alex said his celeb crush was this one tv actress, ive forgotten her name but i remember she looked exactly like lily does

⤷ username6 his perfect type 🥰

⤷ username47 remember who he was with then…

⤷ username82 my girl y/n catching strays all the time

liked by oliviarodrigo, iamrebeccad, and 451,928 others

yourusername i scream inside to deal with it like AHHHAEGEGBDBDHEHJEJDNXNJE

tagged oliviarodrigo

username45 girl is going through it

username22 “you’re the only girl i’d ever want” yeah ok liar

liked by yourusername

oliviarodrigo girl-

⤷ yourusername happier, pretty isn’t pretty, & stranger is a lethal lineup. don’t ask why i know… 💜

⤷ username42 wooh deadly combo

⤷ username25 just two ‘teenage’ girls who make the most gut wrenching twisted experiences sound like fairy dust

liked by oliviarodrigo, yourusername

username5 bunny nickname was sacred i can’t believe this 😖

username16 last slide is so real girl 😩

francisca.cgomes validddd

username11 i really don’t think she’s taking all of this very well

⤷ username18 u think?!

liked by lilymhe, patrickh_coach, and 230,838 others

alex_albon happiest with my girl

tagged lilymhe

username23 day b4 y/n’s birthday…

⤷ username45 he knows what he’s doing

username28 he’s never looked happier than with lily 🥰

lilymhe my silly boy

landonorris whippeddd

username67 pinterest couple 💌

username18 i love that they seem like best friends as well

username61 i want what they have ☹️

username77 his girl awwww

liked by luisinhaoliveira99, georgerussell63, and 509,983 others

yourusername opposite out now 🌟🐰

username23 the golf fit and bunny emoji SHES MESSY!

alexandrasaintmleux trop belle 🩷

username8 nah not the golf outfit when his current gf is a pro golfer…

username17 “she looks nothing like me so why do you look so happy?” after his ig post rlly hits

username13 i wanna hug her 🫂

username62 really her eternal muse….

username37 does she step out the spotlight so u bathe in it? GAGGED HIM

⤷ username2 righttt like especially since when they were together she was always the more famous one and he was the bf

georgerussell63 🤩

⤷ username11 alex may be his best mate but he hast to stan

username16 “i’ll never stop writing songs about you” well she didn’t lie-

username34 them always joking about how alex was a bad texter but now he’s with lily he’s suddenly the fastest replier ☹️

⤷ username9 “oh so u can reply just to not me” 🫤🫤

carmenmmundt so good ❤️

⤷ yourusername ily

francisca.cgomes TRYNA TAKE IT AS A COMPLIMENT ITS KINDA FEELING LIKE THE OPPOSITE

⤷ yourusername my best friendddd

username8 u were holding out to find the opposite is CRAZY

username92 “you knew i would see that” 👹👹

username6 “face like that other girl your in love with” OH OH OH

username63 “i know now even if i tried to change that somehow you’d end up with her anyway” alex albon when i catch you

username77 “when you said i’m beautiful was i bein lied to?” SHUT UP

⤷ username6 when he’d call her the prettiest in the universe…

username23 just rip my heart out and stomp all over it

2 years later

liked by carmenmmundt, francisca.cgomes, and 1,340,982 others

yourusername recents flicks x

username17 oh my god that dress is everything

username4 her and drew 🥰

drewstarkey 😍

username8 i really think she’s finally healed and that makes me so happy

alexandrasaintmleux can still hear charles singing sky fall 😭

⤷ yourusername remind me to never give him the mic at karaoke again

⤷ username45 so happy they still keep in touch

⤷ username92 yeah same but i also miss her and carmen&george

⤷ username67 what happened? 🙃

⤷ username92 well nothing specific but they stayed friends after her and alex broke up but i guess it just got kind of complicated and now the only interactions were really see of them is them liking each others posts

francisca.cgomes that dresssss lindaaa 🩷🌟

username62 pretty

username17 awww her and drew look adorable

⤷ username4 idk i still think she’s trying to find someone to recreate what she had with alex and it still hasn’t work but drew is the closest she’s come

⤷ username23 all while he’s still with the girl he got with like two weeks after they broke up

liked by williamsracing, georgerussell63, and 1,098,993 others

alex_albon she said yes! i can’t believe i get to marry my dream girl, as soon as i saw your face i knew i was gonna marry you. forever us, i love you 🐰

tagged lilymhe

username81 WHAT?!

username62 oh my god i would hate to be y/n rn

username12 after 2 years… but strung y/n along for 6 with not even a hint of a ring

⤷ username1 when yk yk i guess

georgerussell63 congrats mate x

carmenmmundt ❤️

username72 y/n y/l/n found screaming crying

⤷ username3 y/n is unbothered,, she has a man and is sooo over alex

lilymhe can’t wait to marry you,, to forever with you ❤️

⤷ username17 “to forever with you” i want to kms that’s exactly what y/n said on her last post w alex

alexandrasaintmleux congrats you guys ☺️

⤷ username4 oh to be in kika alex and y/n’s gc right now

landonorris ggggg

username71 this has to be slap in the face to y/n

albon_pets congrats alex 🐼 and lily 🐰 we love you guys ❤️

⤷ username44 albon pets using the bunny emoji for lily now when it was always for y/n is heartbreaking

username5 yellow cab light theory 🙃

⤷ username77 ??

⤷ username5 i just remember in satc miranda saying men are like cabs: “When they're available, their light goes on. They wake up one day and decide they're ready to settle down, have babies, whatever, and they turn their light on. The next woman they pick up — boom! That's the woman they marry.”

⤷ username14 yeah it also about how love isn’t about commitment but rather timing lolllll

⤷ username77 ohhhh so alex’s ‘light’ turned on after breaking up with y/n and it’s not that he’s more committed to lily but rather the timing is better for him than it was w y/n?

⤷ username5 basically 😳

liked by carmenmmundt, oliviarodrigo, and 1,997,928 others

yourusername you were holding out to find the opposite 🙃🐰

username61 they have hit the pentagon (again)

username1 oh my girl i thought we’d moved on

username73 she’s still at the restaurant 💔

username9 posting this while she has a whole ass bf 😭

⤷ username88 she gafff about that man in comparison to alex,, alex hung the stars for her

username23 “how am i supposed to close the door when i still need the closure?”

username14 “i saw you met somebody and im jealous as hell that i can’t even stomach loving somebody else” farkkkk they still kill me

⤷ username9 it’s been 2 years and she still can’t stomach it 🫤🫤😫

francisca.cgomes ❤️

username18 people using lyrics from emails i can’t send rn is making me want to cry ☹️

alexandrasaintmleux belle 🩷

username42 THE BUNNY NOOO

username16 everyone saying she’s moved on and doesn’t care obviously doesn’t remember how hard the break up hit for her like she was in love with that man

⤷ username45 they were meant to grow old together ☹️

⤷ username33 “i care but i don’t”

username62 he did end up w her anyway….

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

first alex fic!!! definitely not the last but pls let me know what you think xx

751 notes · View notes

fleurhcss · 6 months ago

Text

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐨 𝐈𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 - Seungmin x FEM!Reader

cw: some cunty and kinky shit, very hard sex, best friends to lovers, very possessive and hard dom seungmin with a sweet trait (im sorry i love my minnie), bratty reader, you are really a whore, stripper reader, mention of alchool and jealousy, handcuff

sw: hair pulling, pinv, cunnilingus, oral (M! receving), orgasm denial, multiple orgasm, scratching, biting, marking, bit of blood cuz seungmin is very kinky bastard MDNI!

wc: 7k

synopsis: Financially, you are not doing well. In addition to your part-time job, you attend some clubs in the evenings in order to earn a little more money. You do not mind showing off, as you love receiving compliments from men and finding new partners with whom to engage in sexual intercourse in order to satisfy your sexual frustrations. Your closest friend, Seungmin, is unaware of these circumstances. Given his protective nature, it is likely that he would take extreme measures to protect you. One unexpected outcome of the situation is that the individual in question has become a possessive dominant. He unintentionally discovers the extent of your job. This results in a particularly harsh fuck between the two, during which he is merciless. Your initial perception of him was that of a kind and gentle individual. However, upon further reflection, it becomes evident that he is, in fact, a complex and intriguing character. His actions and demeanor often elicit a strong emotional response, including feelings of intense arousal and even physical sensations such as bleeding.

a/n: hiii, I'm writing this since the chanel event! I'm sorry if i take request so sloowly but it's exam ses. now! Hope you will like this, i had fun writing it 🫶🏻🩷 made especially for this cutie @chrizzztopherbang . I opened a ko-fi account, i will post there some stories and drawings, if you want to support me i will be grateful to anyone who wants to give me tips, ITS NOT OBLIGATORY

[ SMUT ]

Another day at one of your many jobs. Lately you have been having financial problems. These included paying for university fees, rent, food, bills and other necessities. To supplement your income, you have been working four different jobs: bartending, librarian, after-school care every other day, and nightclub work every night. Your friends were unaware of this aspect of your life, as it caused you considerable embarrassment to discuss it. However, you did not feel uncomfortable about it. The practice of tipping for extra services was beneficial, although not all men were comfortable with it. Some men were able to satisfy the sexual frustrations of the women with whom they engaged in such activities. At this point, you were in the midst of a professional endeavour, helping high school students to improve their GPAs. It is remarkable that these students held you in such high esteem. Despite the exhaustion that inevitably accompanied the work, you found great satisfaction in your role. As you corrected the maths exercises of the esteemed Hana, an Anglo-Korean girl whom you held in high esteem and who always presented you with exquisite drawings, you contemplated the future once you had completed your current task.

At nine o'clock in the evening you were expected at one of the clubs in the city centre for your usual performance. In addition to the attractive salary, this job had another important advantage: you had always been passionate about dancing, and this was the closest thing you had to it. However, you had been forced to give up dancing for lack of time and money. After finishing the boys' homework and explaining some philosophical concepts and mathematical formulas, you retired to bed to get some rest. Fortunately, it was still six o'clock, allowing you to rest after an already exhausting day. You had studied in the morning, worked in the afternoon and now, in a few hours, you would resume your night work. The strange absence of your best friend's usual appearance or phone call had not yet occurred. At least he was fine. Seungmin was your best friend. He had two different personalities: during the day he was a polite and wealthy individual who showed considerable intelligence and respect; at night, when he was with his friends, he became a kind of Don Giovanni heartthrob. There is no denying that he had a certain appeal.

He was very protective of you and never allowed other men to interfere in your romantic life. As a result, he was the first to not know of your secret occupation. It is difficult to predict how he might have reacted, and it may have been for the best that he was not informed. If he ever discovered your secret, he would hunt down the men you were with one by one, and the outcome of that hunt was uncertain. He would then turn his attention to you, giving you a good-natured lecture and possibly resorting to other forms of intimidation. Your best friend was able to make him feel afraid, although you had learned this not from him but from Jisung, Seungmin's best friend, who had been caught having sex with his professor in Seungmin's car. You still remember his displeased behaviour and you were reluctant to provoke him further.

However, your premature declaration of triumph was premature, for he had not telephoned, but had arrived at your home just as you were about to fall into a deep sleep. The most disturbing aspect of the situation was the fact that you had given him the keys to your home, as he had been your closest friend for several years. So there was no need for you to get up and open the door for him, as he suddenly walked into your room in his gym clothes. This was somewhat unexpected, as he had previously expressed no interest in going to the gym. He himself noticed your puzzled expression at his unusual post-gym attire and appearance. "Good afternoon! Don't look at me with such disdain, Changbin Hyung is forcing Jisung, Felix and me to work out with him because he says we're too skinny," and you were overcome with laughter. The aforementioned were remarkably thin, consisting of two adorable little men with minimal musculature. They looked like little fairies, including Changbin, who seemed to have exaggerated musculature. Seungmin was considerably taller than the others and had broad shoulders. The image of him working out with them was quite funny.

"It's funny to consider the prospect of you working out with them. It is equally amusing to consider the prospect of you doing any kind of training at all, considering your past dislike of training," you concluded, making yourself comfortable and making room for your friend to sit next to you on the bed. He gave you a friendly pat on the arm and pouted in a way that was both endearing and characteristic of him. You had coined the term "Seungballons" to describe this particular pout, as it resembled a balloon. Furthermore, the addition of a pout in the form of a kiss would invariably render one unconscious. You found this behaviour endearing, and it prompted you to engage in a reciprocal act of affection by kissing him on the cheeks. "Ugh, in the end I have to admit that it is not without merit. It is a long-standing affair that is difficult to notice because of my tendency to wear baggy clothes. However, I have gained a considerable amount of muscle mass. Look." He said as he lifted the shirts he was wearing, causing you to be quite shocked because, yes, your friend had two pecs and a well-developed six-pack. His physical appearance provoked a strong emotional response, but he was your closest friend and you were unable to entertain such thoughts.

"You must tell Changbin that he has done an excellent job with you," you swallowed, made a feigned smile and drank some water, trying to erase the image of your best friend's partially naked body from your mind - although you did not mind. "I will, and I am grateful to you, my dear . Although we're going to a club tomorrow night; would you like to come?" he asked. You froze, considering the possibility of being caught. However, they did not usually frequent such places, so you had some protection if your luck did not turn against you. "I would like to tell you that I am unable to attend. I have a full day's work and then I have to prepare for an upcoming exam. Nevertheless, I would be interested to know where you are going, if I may ask." "I am not sure. Binnie Hyung informed us that he had discovered a new place and we were curious to know more about it," Seungmin said thoughtfully, and you felt a sense of relief that you still had the opportunity to withdraw.

But you were not convinced by your friend's desperate expression; you suspected he was hiding something. "Are you okay, Min?" you asked as you adjusted his bangs. "Yes, and I am worried about the taste of some of my hyungs, to be honest," he replied, leading you onto the bed and initiating a bout of tickling. That afternoon, your thoughts were not on the information your friend had given you. Instead, you found yourself contemplating his toned, naked chest. You had not anticipated his physical attractiveness, especially given his previous behaviour. You had grown accustomed to his puppy-dog appearance, with its endearingly youthful features.

So you did not consider the possibility that he might have been working out.

It was obvious that the ensemble suited him. Seungmin already had broad shoulders and one of your vices was to lean on them when watching a film or going out. It was a habit you had developed, but it was not a common occurrence. "Please don't change the subject. I'm curious about Changbin's tastes."

You giggled and pulled yourself together again. Seungmin was no innocent, so he blushed slightly.

His former partners had confirmed this to you, as they had discussed his sexual performance in great detail. However, he was ashamed to discuss certain topics in public or with you, as you were his best friend. He saw you as an innocent girl, which you were not. "Let's say he has a taste for strippers and nightclubs. That is all I am saying, and I am aware that it is a rather embarrassing subject".

He finished by running his hand over his face, making you chuckle.

"As if you had never seen a woman without her clothes on." You made the claim. In fact, he had observed numerous instances of female nudity, including those of his romantic partners.

"Yes, but I was with them. I am not like Hyung who has adventures with women who lap dance for him in night clubs". Had he been aware of this, he would have realised that this is exactly what you do for a living. "You have never considered fucking a woman you are not romantically involved with and who is not your girlfriend?" you inquired as you began to manipulate the fabric of his suit. "No, I'm... shy," he replied, biting his lip. He was looked at with a certain amount of disbelief.

" You! are shy?" you asked, looking at him with an expression that even he, as your closest friend, could not interpret. "Yes, I am," he replied, grimacing and then playfully pushing you. "You're really weird, Kim Seungmin," you pushed him back and then initiated a tickling session, blushing as you felt how well trained and sculpted he was under your touch. It was not the first time you had touched a well-trained chest, but Seungmin's did something to you. Maybe it was because he was your closest friend, or maybe it was because he was different from the others you had met, or maybe it was because you were used to seeing him consistently and exclusively as a thin individual with broad shoulders.

It can be argued that, without meaning to, you became preoccupied with fantasies about Seungmin to an extent that was inappropriate. Not only had you been friends for years, but he was one of your closest friends. Although you found it difficult to erase certain images of him from your mind, you felt guilty about thinking about him in a certain way. It is also worth noting that your nighttime occupation presented certain challenges. It would be highly undesirable for any of your friends, especially Seungmin, to become aware of your nighttime activities. On reflection, Seungmin had mentioned visiting a nightclub. If he were to find you on duty at one of the clubs where you were a regular, your situation would be untenable. It is unclear how Seungmin perceived you, but it is unlikely that he saw you as a dancer in one of the clubs that your best friend's best friend appreciated.

He suddenly asked what he should wear, causing you to look at him with a certain amount of concern. Your best friend was known for his occasional eccentricities. "Excuse me, but do I look like an expert on nightclubs to you?" you inquired, your tone betraying a certain concern. "No, but as a woman you might have the knowledge to dress me in a manner that would impress," he replied, almost shyly, though his demeanour betrayed his true feelings. "So my dear Min wants to impress a girl?" you inquired, playfully pinching his cheek as you laughed. He looked at you with a look of displeasure. "I am a man and I have not fucked for several months. I have certain... needs. By the way, it is undoubtedly a challenge for me to refrain from emotional connection during fucks. However, I cannot resist certain urges. Perhaps at the end of the night I can get a positive response from someone," he said in a low voice, his hands covering his face. "Are you really saying that you want to fuck while being all shy, Kim Seungmin?" You laughed in his face for the umpteenth time. "What do you want? It seems like you haven't fucked for a long time." He tousled your hair, but watching your expression closely, he returned it with a confused one, to say the least.

The problem was that you lacked the ability to lie effectively, especially in the context of deceiving him. As a result, you often displayed peculiar facial expressions that he was able to read with remarkable clarity. "Oh my God, fuck! You fucked with someone and didn't tell me?" he asked, his expression showing more anger than offence. "That is not true. You are imagining these events," you replied, trying to maintain a neutral expression. "Yes, you did. You fucked and did not tell me about it. You know you cannot lie to me, Y/N," he said, biting his lip with an expression that was both serious and intense. The atmosphere had become noticeably more intense, with a palpable sense of unease and tension. You were in a compromising situation and had placed yourself in a vulnerable position. You could have been sure that you felt the first drops of perspiration forming on your face. However, you were forced to end the discussion before it got to the heart of the matter. The most expedient course of action was to acknowledge that it had happened, even if in a limited way. "It happened on a few occasions when I was drunk, but it was not a regular occurrence," you said, trying to give a concise account. Nevertheless, he was not inclined to inquire about the incident in question.

"Only a few times when you were drunk? Are you crazy? What if something had happened to you?" There was the protective Seungmin you wanted to avoid. You were grateful for his concern and lack of complaints, but sometimes it became unbearable. "Still, it didn't happen. I am mature enough to understand the consequences of my actions, Seungmin," you said, pointing at him with your finger as if to admonish him. "Yes, I am aware of that, but I am concerned for your well-being," he said, grabbing your arm and then taking a bite. It could be described as a unique form of affection with which he expressed his apology to you. "I am aware, Seung, but don't worry, I am fully aware of my actions," you smiled at him, taking his face in your hand and planting a kiss on his forehead. "You should return home, as you are in a rather foul state, Mr Gym," you playfully admonished him, giving him a light tap on the shoulder before he left your domicile.

The working day was going to be quite long.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

You were deeply distressed and felt considerable discomfort throughout your body. At work the night before, you were forced to work an extended overtime shift (for which you were paid only half the normal rate). This resulted in a complex set of experiences, including physical pain and a significant financial reward. You were required to have sexual intercourse with two people, a task which you found unpleasant, particularly given the lack of arousal involved. However, the remuneration was satisfactory and you did not express any significant dissatisfaction. You were aware that the nature of the work was inequitable, but you found it necessary and occasionally used it as a means of satisfying certain desires. Fortunately, you had acquired the ability to fake an orgasm, which you used on some occasions, such as yesterday. At that time you were lying in bed, surrounded by books for your upcoming exam, and in a few hours you would have to go to work in the morning.

That night, despite your best efforts, you had to go to a club in the city centre. You had completely forgotten that Changbin was going to take Seungmin and the others to a club in the city centre, which could very well have been the one you were on duty at that night. However, you had not considered this possibility and your mind was so preoccupied that it kept slipping away. So you prepared discreetly for your exam, unaware that that night was the perfect opportunity for you to meet your closest friend, who was likely to be visibly distressed. You were due to perform your duties that afternoon and hoped that the number of customers would be relatively small, given your limited mobility.

The mere anticipation of returning to work that night caused a deep sense of anxiety. You hoped that no one would ask for private shows or other activities that you sometimes found unpleasant. The only desire was to rest and wake in a pool of wealth. You rose listlessly to prepare your lunch. It was not possible to combine work and rest in this way, so you had to take painkillers and vitamins.

You then found yourself preparing and serving smoothies and ice creams in your favourite café. Your day went on as usual. What you did not anticipate was the presence of your closest friend at the table you were to serve. One might ask whether you should not have been preparing for your evening activities. One is tempted to inquire about the nature of their joint venture in a café a few hours before their nightclubbing. They expressed their displeasure at the proprietor's suggestion that they should hurry to serve the aforementioned table, and furthermore, they could not avoid the situation, as Seungmin was aware that this was a table assigned to you, and sat there consistently with the intention of being served.

After a long period of contemplation, you approached them. "Good evening, shouldn't you be getting ready for your clubbing night?" you said, your tone sarcastic. Your friend smiled at you and pinched your side. You wanted to run away. "Jisung is unable to consume alcohol unless he has had a meal or smoothie beforehand," Felix informed him, drawing a scornful look from him. "It is not recommended to consume alcohol on an empty stomach." The boy explained that alcohol is absorbed more quickly into the bloodstream and the effects of intoxication are more pronounced. "Isn't that the point of going to nightclubs? And who told you this? Your respected professor?" the older boy asked jokingly. They looked at each other with a strange expression and Seungmin continued to explain the matter: Jisung had a somewhat unconventional relationship with one of his university professors, characterised by frequent flirting. "I have to respectfully disagree. Minho is a very good professor," he replied, blushing. Her expression was unmistakable. "You're calling him by his first name now, too," he observed, causing a general outburst of mirth, especially the adorable blush on Jisung's chubby cheeks.

"So what can I get for you?" you inquired, interrupting the conversation to take their orders and get out of your friend's company. You were particularly keen to avoid the question from your friend, who would undoubtedly invite you to the evening's event.

You had only been there a few minutes when you noticed Seungmin casting furtive glances in your direction and his friends teasing him about something you did not understand. Unbeknownst to you, they were teasing him about the fleeting glances he was sending your way. "Seungmin, did you notice that you are eating her with your eyes?" inquired Felix, appropriating the cherry from his milkshake. "That's not right," he replied, taking a sip from his glass. "Indeed it is. One might suggest that you ask her out," the blonde continued. "That would be an unusual and somewhat awkward situation, and then I believe she might be involved in a nocturnal affair, or perhaps even a series of them," he said, lowering his head. "And you are jealous! "Which leads to the question if this is what you want to do tonight," Changbin inquired. "Be silent. It is possible that I am indeed jealous. "

The observed behaviour was merely the incessant movement of lips in an attempt to escape the source of discomfort as quickly as possible. Fortunately, twenty minutes later the group left and Seungmin offered you a quick kiss on the cheek. This sparked further merriment among his small group of friends, causing you to become increasingly suspicious. Your only concern was to avoid running into them at the nightclub where you were working that night. This had been your intention since yesterday, since your closest friend had informed you of it. Your anxiety about this matter was greater than your concern about your inability to dance effectively due to the discomfort of the previous night.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

In the midst of your preparations for the upcoming show, you were forced to change your clothes in a hurry. Fortunately, you had already finished your make-up. The evening dress was of a revealing nature and the dancing was expected to be energetic. It was hoped that the wearer would not feel uncomfortable. Your colleague entered your dressing room and informed you that you were about to perform, so you began your usual stage performance for adolescent and middle-aged males.

The only people missing were those you expected to see at the club. The only discernible difference was that they were watching you, watching you with particular interest, especially your closest friend, who opened his eyes wide as he consumed no less than two shots in the space of three minutes. "What is she doing there?" he asked, clenching his fists as he fixed his gaze on you. "I'm sure there must be an explanation, and maybe she didn't tell you because she didn't want you to worry," Jisung said, grabbing his shoulders behind Changbin as Seungmin seemed on the verge of exploding. "She's undeniably attractive," the shorter one remarked, drawing a withering look from the younger one. "Hyung, I strongly recommend you not to make any advances towards her. It is already difficult enough for me not to pick her up from the stage, but I assure you that as soon as she goes to the dressing room, I will not let her get away from me." He downed another shot of vodka.

It is unfortunate that at the end of your nightly performance, another person followed you into the dressing room and you failed to notice the presence of Seungmin, who was standing directly behind you and had suddenly issued a silent threat. The incident was so severe that when you turned around you suffered a stroke and lost the ability to speak. Your situation was indeed very screwed up. "Seungmin, I can..." you were abruptly interrupted and led to your dressing room where he sat you down at your personal table. His gaze was one of intense desire, imbued with the combined effects of alcohol and rage. You had never seen him in such a state. "Explain? What exactly do you want to explain to me? Explain how you sold your body without ever telling me?" He said, grabbing your waist. That should not have aroused you.

"I have economic problems and this is the only job that offers a satisfactory salary," you said in your defence. "I am indifferent to the matter. I could have helped". You are my property, OK? No one is allowed to touch you, Y/N". He then kissed you with considerable passion and force. This was a source of considerable distress for you, as it was different from your expectations of the situation. Although you experienced a degree of pleasure, the situation remained somewhat unusual. His hands were of considerable size and appeared to be a suitable instrument for caressing. "Why not? Who decided that I belong to you?" you inquired in a teasing manner. At this point the situation became increasingly amusing for you as well. "I must now erase the memory of this unclean contact before I had the opportunity to do so," he whispered into your ear before reaching down into the hollow of your neck and allowing you to ingest the substance. "Seungmin, my legs are tired. I am unable to walk," you informed him, indicating your own limitations. "There are numerous other ways to satisfy our mutual desires, and we will address this particular issue at a later time." Furthermore, I am. While I wish to destroy you, I would never take advantage of a woman in this state. Remarkably, he remained in character as the usual Seungmin knight.

"What are you going to do in my dressing room?" you asked, watching as he bent down between your thighs and pulled off the suit you had worn for the evening. "I am not sure. I have a craving, if I may be so bold as to say." He smiled. This young man you had previously considered a potential threat to your sanity. He found your body aesthetically pleasing. He began another insatiable and passionate kiss. His hands descended in a sweeping motion, tracing a path down your body, cupping your thighs and gradually rising to your buttocks, which he gripped firmly in a vice-like grip. "Your beauty is such that it is unconscionable to wait any longer. I want you and I want to play a little," Seungmin said with a sneer in his voice. Then he moved you to the small sofa with the instruction to straddle his body. He proceeded to kiss your neck, leaving a series of marks. It was inevitable that he would bite you, it was apparently a habit of his. You had learnt it from his exes. He would bite you to let you know he owned you, bite you until you bled, and lick the mess he made. This aroused you considerably. He smiled, indicating that he understood. You were in a state where he could do as he pleased. No other person had ever made you feel such intense arousal.

"Look at you, you are ready for me to do anything I want to you." He was not aware of this either.

The young man moved closer to you, initiating another passionate kiss as he cupped your neck with one hand and used the other to caress your intimacy. The movements were slow at first, but soon accelerated as your best friend removed your panties and quickly stroked your clit. When he became tired, he began a long series of kisses on your inner thighs. He then grabbed your thighs and brought them up to his shoulders. He then began to leave kisses on your vagina. "Please don't wait any longer," you said and Seungmin laughed and then began to lick your cunt in a long slow motion. He cupped your ass as he massaged it. You had been waiting for this moment ever since he had put his thin, large hands on your waist the day before.

"Seungmin, please..." you almost begged him before arching your back in a series of involuntary gasps, clinging to the back of the sofa as best you could. You looked at him, pressing harder against his face, wanting more and more. He laughed as he watched the reactions he was provoking in you with each touch, which only served to increase his desire to possess you. He grinned as he continued what he had begun. His hands were firmly harpooned in your bottom and thanks to the pleasure you were experiencing, you had thrown your head back. He laughed again as his tongue continued its work. He found the taste of you on his taste buds particularly delicious, sending him into a state of intense pleasure. He was deeply and passionately in love with you, with every aspect of your being. His nose came into contact with your pubic hair as a result of the depth of penetration achieved with his tongue. He was enjoying himself to a considerable degree, as evidenced by your moans and the pulling of strands of his hair. Seungmin was not uncomfortable with this aspect of your behaviour, in fact he found it erotic in a special way. He smiled as his tongue explored your orifice in slow, circular movements designed to bring you to a state of ecstasy. Seungmin silently enjoyed the experience. His only goal was to ensure your pleasure. His hands moved to the sides of your thighs, which he slapped hard. He took pleasure in leaving his marks, but he would never do anything to harm you; he worshipped you.

Then his hands moved in a circular motion, grasping your thighs and placing them on your shoulders. His mouth, which had previously been in contact with your clit, moved to sink his teeth into your inner thigh. He took pleasure in leaving his marks on you. No one was allowed to touch his woman; you were his and his alone. You were his. A pocket knife emerged from his boot, the purpose of which was unclear. However, before this could be determined, he took your labia majora between his teeth and pulled them towards him, pressing them against his mouth in order to suck your clitoris. This was done in a manner reminiscent of sucking a straw. He then drew a thin line with the blade of the penknife, leaving a streak of blood, all the way to your mound. This brought you to a state of considerable arousal. He withdrew from your vulva, reached up to begin his work, and began to lick the warm, crimson liquid that was slowly oozing from the wound. In addition, the moans of pain and pleasure you gave him drove him to a state of unprecedented ecstasy. The sensation of your mouth alone was more fulfilling than any other experience. He continued to suck on the blood dripping from the wound, causing further lesions on his breasts, around his nipples, in his groin and near his navel. This only accelerated his orgasm. Furthermore, when he inserted two fingers into your mouth, which was already open, he continued to stimulate your tongue. "Look at you... my submissive slut," he said, smiling.

He sneered as he took your face between his fingers. The picture showed you in a blood-soaked state. After a short interval, he withdrew his fingers and proceeded to stimulate your orifice by alternately inserting and withdrawing his digit. This was done in such a way as to create a deep sense of arousal. Seungmin was fascinated by the prospect of fucking you at that moment. "What is your desire, my princess?" "Not that you can do much in this state," he said, laughing, referring to his fingers inside you. "I want to touch you," you whispered, your voice hoarse from the constant moaning. "You can do better than that," he winked, then pulled away and sat you down on your side, then stood up, took off his trousers and sat down beside you. You stood frozen for a moment at the sight of his length; he was tall and compact. You had never seen one like it before.

"I see you are happy with it, Princess," he said, bringing your face close to his. You had fully perceived what he was trying to achieve. You were fully aware of his intentions. You were incapable of uttering any further words, as if his imposing stature had put you in a state of trance. He then proceeded to rub the head of his member against your lips in what appeared to be a teasing manner. It was not difficult for you to open your lips and make contact with the glans. You then proceeded to suck on the tip and then ran your tongue along the entire circumference and veins. You stimulated the testicles with your hands, causing him to moan hoarsely. As you continued to insert him fully into your mouth until you reached the uvula, you let out a moan that caused his member to tremble. This elicited a high-pitched moan from him.

"Fuck, baby like that." He explained that by grabbing your hair and then fucking your mouth, you were sure that you would come again if he continued.Indeed, your assumption proved to be correct.

That is exactly what happened.

"Fuck Y/N, I'm coming, take it off," he said, removing his hand from your hair. But you had no intention of removing your mouth. You grabbed his thighs and thrust his member deep into your throat, causing him to release inside you with a long, audible moan. You swallowed, licked your lips and looked at him. "You are incomprehensibly unaware of the effect you have on me," he winked. "I can, however, inform you of the effect you have on me." You giggled, then reached up to his ear and planted a kiss beneath it. "You have brought me to another orgasm," you said with a hint of mockery.

"Now, if it pleases you, I would be grateful for a date and to clean you up," he smiled as he led you to your private bathroom. "I would be most honoured, sir," you replied, laughing. It was not the ending you had expected.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The experience of being discovered by Seungmin during a night shift would not be on any normal person's bucket list. However, the incident led to a change in your life. Seungmin had persuaded you to quit your job at a nightclub because he was concerned about your welfare and did not want you to be used as a mere object by men. Among other things, he had offered to support you financially until you found suitable alternative employment. He helped you to find a job that offered a comparable income and was adamant that it did not involve the exploitation of your body for sexual gratification. Although you were initially reluctant, given your long-standing opposition to his financial support, you eventually agreed.

The unexpected meeting also took place. He had invited you shortly after your encounter in the dressing room while he was discreetly cleaning up the mess. To be honest, you had never considered Seungmin as a potential romantic partner. However, your perspective had gradually changed over time. Back then, his friends, who were also your friends, had informed you that he had been casting furtive glances at you and had developed an interest in you. This confused you at first, but you eventually got used to it. You also had to prepare mentally for the meeting.

You did not deny that you were a little apprehensive; you were unsure of the destination he had in mind for this evening. He had instructed you to dress in a way that was both comfortable and tasteful, but your anxiety was growing. After a long shower, you began to look through your wardrobe, but it was difficult to choose an outfit without knowing where you were going. In the end, however, you chose a relatively simple ensemble consisting of a black ruffled skirt, not too short, and a top of the same colour that left your shoulders bare and had a boat neckline. You wore your beloved wedges. If you had to choose between them and heels, based on what Seungmin had told you about elegance and comfort, you would have chosen the latter. Your make-up was minimal, your hair was wavy and fell to your shoulders, your necklace was tightly fastened around your neck and all your jewellery was in its proper place. You completed your ensemble with a fruity and very sugary perfume before heading into the living room to wait for your no longer best friend.

Seungmin arrived shortly afterwards with a large bouquet of roses, in keeping with his reputation as a gallant man. You smiled as you remembered that he had not been in bed with you, especially after the knife performance. He said, "For you, my princess," and then kissed you on the lips. The anticipation of the evening's events had been palpable, yet the simplicity of the act itself evoked a deep sense of emotional resonance. The culmination of this experience was the tender kiss beneath the earlobe, accompanied by the words, "I hope you are well prepared as we have a long night ahead of us".

It was your firm belief that if he had continued to talk to you like this throughout the evening, you would have been so aroused that you would have removed your underwear, even if there had been no physical contact. In fact, you sighed before placing the roses in a vase of water and accompanying him to the car. It was a revelation to you that the vehicle in question was of considerable size. It was also admitted that Seungmin looked particularly handsome that night. He was wearing a black tank top and loose black trousers. His appearance was complemented by a leather jacket and jewellery. His footwear consisted of half-heeled ankle boots, which were as black as the rest of his outfit. His hair was lightly gelled and curly. He was a man of considerable qualities and attributes. You licked your lips and he watched, giving you the opportunity to do so. It was inevitable that he would drive you out of your mind as soon as he could.

There was no denying that the car ride had contributed to the evening's events. He held your thigh firmly in his hand and massaged your skin, occasionally reaching under the fabric of your skirt. He was aware that this was having a positive effect on you and you were similarly pleased by the experience. He felt a sense of predatory intent, like a predator with a vulnerable prey in his grasp.

The evening was going well. He had taken you to a modest restaurant at an elevated location, and you had enjoyed a sumptuous meat dish accompanied by an excellent wine. It was obvious that he had not missed the opportunity to cast certain glances at you as he sipped the vin rouge in his glass. He continued to look at you in an increasingly intimidating manner. The conversation went well and you had always enjoyed his company. The topics were varied and engaging, even when a situation had developed between you that couldn't be defined with a specific term. However, it seemed that Seungmin had anticipated your thoughts, as he initiated a discussion on the matter. "Considering that this is a full-fledged date, I would like to suggest that we raise the status of our relationship to boyfriend and girlfriend. I don't think there's any need for a proper dating, as I'm aware of your preferences," he said, raising his eyebrows as he took another sip of wine. "I agree, except for one thing: you do not know me well enough to have discovered my clandestine activities." You provoked him, knowing how the subject would arouse his jealousy. "I did not expect you to go so far." "I have always thought of you as my princess and hoped that you would eventually ask for my help." He wrinkled his nose. "Minie, it is important for me to be able to support myself. I am grateful for your help, but once I have secured employment, I would prefer you to stop helping me, okay?" you smiled with a pout in response.

Perhaps I should pay and we could go to my place?" he asked, smiling, before wiping his lips and getting to his feet. You did the same, but were stopped by him. He took your hand and kissed it before leading you to the exit. "This dinner is a date, and I am paying as usual. You are my friend and I will treat you properly," he said, making you blush. The gentleman in question displayed admirable behaviour and etiquette when dealing with women. He knew how to treat women with the respect and consideration they deserved. It is worth noting that in addition to the bedroom activities mentioned above, you had also gained an understanding of his somewhat eccentric behaviour outside the bedroom. You then waited outside the restaurant for him to return. He reappeared shortly afterwards, accompanied by a second bottle of red wine. "It was an excellent meal, and I have a plan for tonight. You'll see what I'm capable of, my dear," he said with a chuckle, then led you to the car and drove you both to his home.

To say that he did not even allow you the opportunity to survey the surroundings, despite your intimate familiarity with the house, was an understatement.

He immediately picked you up and carried you to his bed.

He then disappeared, returning with two goblets of wine.That night will remain indelibly etched in your memory.You watched as Seungmin took off his jacket and black shirt, leaving the vision to his well defined abs and the glittering necklace he was wearing.As you watched him take a sip of wine after almost completely undressing, you had to admit that his actions made your entire body tremble. Your panties were now soaked. "Now, Princess, undress for me," he said, grinning and licking his lips.He then lay on the bed with one hand behind his head and the other holding the goblet.

By this time the positions had been reversed, with the man on the bed watching your every move while you knelt in front of him, removing each piece of clothing until you were completely naked in front of him.

"How beautiful, come closer," he murmured. You approached him on all fours, the naked intimacy of your body matching his, still fully clothed. He watched you for a long time, as if to etch your image into his memory. You smiled and shivered as he began a gentle caress of your form. He caressed your cheek, shoulder and breasts in that order. He then moved to the other breast with his free hand, having previously placed the cup on the table. He began to massage it at a slow and deliberate pace, appreciating the texture of your skin. He then teased your nipple with his fingers, before pouncing on it with his lips and doing the same to the other. One hand, which had previously been at the back of your neck, now moved to your waist, where it began to caress it. His touch was so seductively overpowering that it left you breathless. He applied pressure to your hip as his lips played with your breasts. He then moved to your shoulders, biting and branding them. Your hands were clenched in his shoulders, scratching them lightly as you rubbed your vulva against the covered flap of his trousers. "Wait a moment, I want to feel you on me," he whispered in your ear.

He separated your bodies for a brief moment, then proceeded to undress you completely, allowing your intimacies to collide. "How about riding me?" he asked, smiling and winking. Your lips parted in surprise at the mere suggestion. It was highly unlikely that you would have survived the night. Seungmin was like a mermaid whose enchanting song was meant to captivate and enchant. You swallowed and then nodded in agreement. You applied gentle pressure to the head of his penis between your labia, causing you to pant and eliciting a moan from the Major. He had brought one arm back behind your head while the other held you tightly against him, increasing the contact. You lowered yourself completely onto him, allowing him to enter and fuck you completely, which he did with considerable force. Your moans mingled, accompanied by a soft exclamation of "Fuck!" from him. "Your cunt is both tight and warm, which feels very good. You should start to move," he instructed, and you complied. Normally such an act would have been abhorrent to you, but with him it was all so natural.

As he stroked your hips, you had begun to move at a slower pace. It was a sensation you had never experienced with any other partner. It was as if Seungmin had an innate understanding of the exact places and techniques needed to touch you. Your movements became faster and faster and your nails were driven into his back. "Min, I'm coming. I can feel it. My thighs are burning. Please, speed up!" You were on the verge. "No, not yet," you grunted, then changed positions. You vocalised your displeasure as he withdrew from your embrace, feeling a sense of emptiness. At this point you were positioned beneath him as he continued to penetrate you, his imposing frame towering over you.

You were sure that an orgasm was imminent, given his position on top of you as he thrust vigorously into you. However, he seemed to disagree, indicating that he was not interested in facilitating an orgasm. He claimed that it was too early for such a reaction. So he withdrew from you, leaving you with an empty feeling. "Please, Seung, I can no longer stand it," you begged him. Only after he had pushed you with an animal force did he give you permission to come. "Your warmth and tightness are so arousing...come for me," he whispered, allowing you to release yourself around him. He informed you that they had not yet reached the end of the act. He then turned you over on your stomach and began to leave bites and marks on your back, tracing a trail of them all over your ass. He continued to lick and slap the area between your buttocks, causing you to moan. Despite this, you still had some residual sensitivity from the previous orgasm.

You were unable to speak as he sank back into you, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling it towards him as he thrust violently, abusing your cunt. You arched your back and rolled your eyes, no one had ever given you such intense pleasure. "Ah... Seungmin... please..." you moaned one last time before you came again. "Who gave you permission?" he demanded, thrusting at a surprisingly fast pace. It was relatively easy for you to reach your third orgasm in a row that night. "Seungmin, I'm about to..." The words were barely audible.

"Come with me," he groaned and then proceeded to ejaculate into you and you after him, now exhausted. "I will get you the necessary cleaning supplies," he murmured, then stroked your side and got a cloth soaked in warm, damp water to clean you. He then tied your hair into a braid and made you a cup of hot tea after dressing you in a pair of clean briefs and one of his shirts. "You look so lovely," you murmured, trying to relax on his chest. "It's the least I can do after making you come how many times?" he said, laughing as he pinched your side. "Three, but don't boast, sir," you gave him a tongue-lashing. "Do all gentlemen do it rough?" you burst out laughing.

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