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backmuscles21 · 6 months

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You're Supposed To Be Ours

Recoms x Reader

Summary: You are an RDA chemist, you have caught the eyes of all the recoms. They can be a little possessive. So, when they see you talking with someone else, they need to teach you your place and where you belong. Warnings: smut, belly bulge, size kink, begging, spanking, orgasm denial/delay, punishment, possessive behaviour, sub/dom undertones

You came to Pandora as a chemist, they needed you to run tests on water, plants, rocks, and other elements. Basically, what they wanted you to do was make a periodic table for the things on Pandora.

Easier said than done.

However, you did love your job and you loved the planet. One thing you loved the most about your job was the new relationship you started. You have an avatar body for when you go on missions to collect samples to test and figure out their composition. Since you have a trillion-dollar avatar body and were only a scientist, you needed protection. And what better protection than the new Na’vi recom soldiers? Plus, they were tall, strong, and muscular.

So that is how you met your new lovers. You learned that they were a little hard-headed, very strong, very loyal, and pretty jealous. Not necessarily jealous of each other, they saw themselves as a family, but with literally anyone else. When you told them you liked boy boys and girls you couldn’t talk to a single soul without them feeling a tinge of jealousy. Some were good at hiding it others had it written all over their face, it didn’t really bother you too much, you had them.

You would go to work and then go back to them, sometimes in your human body or in your avatar. Not too many people knew you were with all the recoms, the only people that really knew were some of the people in your department. They had seen you with them when they dropped you off or came by to pick you up after you finished work or when they would visit you while you were working. It was always someone different, but it was always one of your tall blue lovers.

Some of your co-workers liked to pick on you a little for being with them and fucking the aliens. You didn’t care, you loved them deeply, and you wouldn’t ever trade them for the world.

But one day, when one of them came to visit you while you were working, they saw you talking with some of your co-workers. You were laughing and smiling and you just tucked your hair behind your ears, you did that when you were flustered.

It was Prager who came to visit you, he was feeling tired and in a cuddly mood and he always sought you out when he got that way. He was angry that you’d be talking with this guy that you worked with. You should be laughing with anyone but them, you were theirs. So, Prager went back to the recom common room to tell everyone what he saw.

He stormed back to the common room, punched in the door code and stomped in.

“What happened? Did she say she had to work? Cause I told you so,” Lopez said with a smirk.

Prager didn’t answer, instead, he gathered everyone in the common area.

“What’s going on? Care to explain?” Miles asked.

“I went to see her and I saw her but she was talking and laughing with another guy. They were supposed to be working and she even tucked her hair behind her ears. She was flirting with him; I couldn’t believe it. So, I came back here to tell you guys,” Prager explained.

“What was she doing?” Mansk asked, always trying to work out situations, giving you the benefit of the doubt.

“She was by her microscope, she was writing on some papers, but then she stopped and she gave him her undivided attention,” Prager explained

“Well, let’s go see this then,” Lyle said wanting to confirm it.

Miles put his arm out to stop Lyle, “no. We wait till she finishes work, she has to anyway. Then we will confront her. You know she can’t lie worth a damn and will crumble under us. She can also explain her side of the story and we will go from there.”

“Are we gonna punish her?” Walker asked with a slight smirk.

“Depends. She might have an explanation and then we will just tone down our usual punishment. If she doesn’t deny it and says what she did, we will use a lesser punishment. If she tries to hide it and denies it, we will go no bars held. She knows her safe word,” Miles explained to everyone.

“When is she done?” Zdog asked.

“A few hours. I’ll pick her up. I intimidate her the most,” Miles said as he smirked at his fellow soldiers.

“So, what do we do till then?” Ja asked.

“We could try to get her out early. Maybe do a random walk-by and see if it’s continuing?” Fike suggested.

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve ever said,” Lopez smirked.

“Go fuck yourself,” Fike said to Lopez with a scoff and smile while rolling his eyes.

So, a few hours passed and Miles left a couple of minutes before you were supposed to finish for the day. He walked in front of the glass doors of the chemistry lab, there were multiple scientists working away. Then his eyes landed on you, looking into different Petri dishes and writing stuff down. He fell in love with you all over again, he couldn't believe how gorgeous you were. Both your human body and your avatar body were absolutely stunning, he understood why people wanted you, not that they’d ever get you.

He opened the door and walked in, he saw you look up and smile brightly. He walked over to you and placed his hands on your shoulders and watched you finish your notes.

“I’m almost done give me five minutes.”

“Take your time cupcake,” Miles said patting your shoulders.

He noticed your co-workers staring at you and him and then whispering to each other, he knew they liked to gossip. He wasn’t bothered by them and he knew you weren’t either but he still didn’t like it. He gave them a slight scowl and turned back towards you.

Finally, you and him left the lab and went to the recom-only areas. Once you entered the room and saw all of your lovers right there you were surprised.

“Woah, what’s going on? Did I miss something? Is there a special occasion?” You said slightly nervous.

Miles came up behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed a little bit. “We needed to talk to you about something and we need you to be honest.”

“What’s up?” You said it slowly, you were kind of scared.

“Were you flirting with one of your co-workers today?” Miles asked.

“Flirting? You think I would purposely flirt with someone I work with? That’s like giving that person a death wish. I wasn’t trying to flirt with anyone, if that happened, I’m sorry that it did, it was not my intention.”

“But you were flustered. I saw you tuck your hair behind your ears,” Prager said.

“I was using my microscope a lot today and I forgot my hair tie. You know how I hate my hair in my face. I just happened to tuck my hair behind my ears a lot today.”

“But you were laughing and talking with him then you looked down and tucked your hair behind your ears. You were flustered, he made you flustered.”

“I swear I never intended for that to happen. I have to talk with my coworkers, I need them to tolerate me. I work with them and there’s no replacing them or me so we have to get along. I promise I was not intentionally flirting with anyone I work with.”

“But you were being friendly,” Lyle said.

“Yeah, but I need to be. I need them to like me. I’m friendly to anyone I talk to. I don’t talk to a lot of people other than you guys but I’m not an asshole.”

“I think you need to learn your place,” Miles said leaning over to whisper in your ear.

Your eyes went wide, they planned on punishing you for this.

“Do I need my avatar for this?”

“No, we will be tame enough for a human.”

You breathed out loudly through your nose trying to calm yourself. You didn’t hate when this happened, it was hot. However, it was just a lot and it was tiring and it was just so much for your little body.

Miles started to move his hands down to your hips, then he moved them from your hips to slide up your sides and take your shirt off. You lifted your arms to help him take your shirt off, he threw your top onto the floor and touched your smooth skin again. His hands went to your back and unclasped your bra, he took it off you as well and let it fall to the floor. Miles smiled as he watched everyone state at you, he placed his large hands on your tits and pulled you into his body. He started to play with your nipples and it made you cry out.

You could see the smirks on everyone’s faces as they watched you whine while being toyed with. Miles' hands then found the hem of your pants, he unbuttoned them and let them fall to the floor.

“These are cute,” Miles said as he revealed your panties to the recoms. He grabbed the band of your panties on your hip and let it slap against your skin.

“Now, be a good girl and go apologize to Prager first. He wanted you so badly and he had to see you openly flirting,” Miles said as he slapped your ass as you walked over to Prager.

You sat on Prager’s lap and kissed him; Prager’s hands roamed your body before staying on your hips. He squeezed the flesh of your hips and occasionally your butt, you found yourself naturally rolling your hips into him. You could feel him getting harder and harder, you then got off him to kneel in front of him. You started to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants; you pulled out his hard cock. Your hands were so tiny compared to his Na’vi-sized dick; you stroked him a few times before you took him into your mouth.

It was hard to take him into your mouth but you pushed through, his hand grasped at your hair as you sucked him off. He was moaning out lowly as you did the best you could to get as deep as possible, what you couldn’t reach you stroked. Prager was trying to not jerk his hips and start fucking your face but he couldn’t help it, you were just so good. You focused on his head, pushing your tongue onto it and swirling it around. You tried to keep your teeth from hitting his shaft but it was so hard when he was stretching your mouth to its limits. You knew he was close just from the way his thighs twitched and his cock twitched in your mouth.

You pushed him to the back of your throat as he came, it went right down and as you pulled off him, you looked up at him. He was smiling, he looked so blissed out.

“Do you forgive me?”

“Of course, baby,” Prager said stroking your head.

“Don’t be so nice to her. We’re not done here,” Miles said as he walked over to you and picked you up.

Miles placed you down on your stomach on one of the recom-sized tables, your legs dangled helplessly as he held you there with a hand on your back. Lyle walked up next to Miles and kissed your back a few times, his hand then replaced Miles as he stood behind you. He ground his semi-erect cock into your butt before his other hand stroked down your back, landing on your left butt cheek.

“You gonna count ‘em?”

You nodded, “yeah,” you breathed out feeling yourself get more turned on.

His large hand landed a good smack on your butt cheek, it had a good echoing sound.

“One,” you staggered out.

His hand gripped your butt cheek after the smack, his hand rubbed the area as it left your skin coming down again.

“Two.”

You could hear him snickering as he played with your butt cheek a bit before landing a few concurrent slaps to your left cheek.

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

You couldn’t lie, it was starting to hurt. You knew that this is what was supposed to happen, it was supposed to cause a bit of pain. You liked it but their recom size and strength was a bit much, it just felt raw more than painful, but you could still handle it.

“Six,” you whined out as Lyle slapped your butt again.

He was definitely an ass man but also a boob man, this man was just horny and would take what he could get. He loved all bodies, all sizes, and all parts, but he had a favourite, big juicy asses. He loved a nice jiggly butt, nothing was better, he liked getting to slap, squeeze, pinch, fondle, lick, kiss, suck, bite, whatever he could do, he wanted it. That’s why he was perfect for this job, he could get off on watching your butt jiggle as he slapped your butt.

“Seven.”

Lyle hit the same left cheek, you started to lurch forward as he made contact. It was getting to be quite painful but you were almost done, he almost always went to 10. If he tried more, you might stop him, if he would actually stop.

“Eight.”

You squeezed your eyes when Lyle made impact, you were moaning out at every hit. You could also feel how hard Lyle was, he had to be leaking.

“Nine.”

The finish line was so close, one more and you’d be done. You felt the hand on your back move to your hip, that was new. Both his hands then held your hips and he lifted your hips up a bit and that’s when you felt his cock head rubbing through your folds. You didn’t even hear him unzip his pants, He then pushed in as he slapped your left cheek one last time.

“Ten,” you cried out as he pushed a few inches into you.

Your hands tried to grip at the table, your fingertips pressing into the table while your knuckles bent. Your back was trying to arch with no success, Lyle held you in place as he slowly pushed in more and more.

“Feel how hard you made me by just having your ass on display. I guarantee now pussy ass science puke could fuck you like this. Could get as hard as this. Could get as deep as this. Could make you scream out like this.”

He was praising himself as he started to thrust in and out of you, he was praising how good their recom bodies could fuck you. Hoping that you’d never even think about your coworkers ever again, hoping that you’d never even look at another person.

“Lyle, fuck, Lyle,” you reached your hand back for him, “please.”

“Please what, buttercup?”

“More.”

“You got it babe.”

Lyle sped up and went deeper, you moaned out and he smirked. Your forehead hit the table as you cried out, he couldn’t help but get harder at the sight of you soaking up what he was giving you.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking deep.”

“You like it baby? I can do more. I can already feel myself inside you.”

Lyle smirked as he kissed your back, you could feel his hand on your stomach just below your navel. Your arm slowly moved down there to feel where his hand was, you could feel his cock poking through your skin. You’d seen it and felt it before but it got you every time, it was so hot to know how they were bulging out of you. it just made you feel so small, it was so hot to feel it, even more so when you’d press on it and you’d hear whoever was in you moan.

Like now, pressed down on your lower stomach had Lyle moaning and grunting, he kept thrusting faster and faster before cumming deep in you. While it felt good and it was hot, you didn’t cum and that was probably their plan for tonight, not stimulate you enough to cum or deny you of it all together.

Lyle pulled out and moved away from you, he then lifted you up and placed you in the lap of Lopez. He already had his cock out, he held onto your hips before helping you to sink down on his thick cock. You gripped onto his shoulders for dear life as you felt the stretch, nothing helped with the stretch. Even after Lyle just fucked the shit out of you, you still weren’t meant for their large bodies.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me, baby girl,” Lopez said resting his forehead in yours.

He slowly sunk you down further and further until he stopped and started to lift your body up and down on his cock. Your head rested on his shoulder as you cried out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled your bodies close together.

“Please, please, please, let me cum,” you whined out. You figured begging might help.

“I’m glad you figured it out. Sooner than I thought. Either way, you won’t be cumming for some time,” Miles said from right behind you. You felt him kiss your shoulder after he told you, his plan.

You whined out from Miles' words and from feeling Lopez go in deeper. You knew you had to cum, but you also knew you couldn’t otherwise your punishment would get worse. Your mouth bit into Lopez’s bare shoulder as you focused on not cumming. The grip Lopez had on your body got tighter as you tried your best to follow Miles’ orders.

“Fuck baby girl, you’re gripping me so fucking hard.”

“Well, I’m trying not to cum. You’re just hitting it perfectly.”

He made a particular few thrusts up into you at really stroked your walls beautifully. You moaned out, holding onto him harder as you held back the best you could.

“Miles please let me cum, I can’t hold it back, please.”

“You’re not cumming.”

You knew asking Lopez was futile, he wasn’t going to let you cum anymore than Miles would. You knew that you would just have to hold off, but that was going to be even harder shortly. After Lopez finally came, you felt yourself finally be able to let your body relax, but that didn’t last long.

“You good with going upside down?” Walker asked smirking in your ear. She bit the lobe of your ear lightly as she wrapped her arms around your waist. She lifted you up off Lopez and took you to where she was sitting. She rested your back on her thighs and took your hips lifting them up to her mouth. Your legs straddled her head as she smiled at you between them.

“Wait I can’t, she gonna make me cum. All she does is know how to stimulate. She doesn’t stop till I cum.”

“That’s your problem, honey,” Walker smiled as she attached her mouth to your clit.

Your head pushed back against her knees as you moaned out loudly. Your hands gripped the armrests and your eyebrows furrowed; your mouth was agape as Walker pulled moan after moan from your mouth. It was such a compliment to her to see you stuck in a state like this. However, it didn’t take long before she had you cumming, it was going to happen, and you were already holding back. You were so sensitive, it didn’t matter, any stimulation was going to get you to cum.

Walker slurped at your pussy as she took everything you gave her.

“I hope you enjoyed that. Because you’re in for it now.”

You stared up at Miles, you could see how much his hard cock was pushing his pants out from your position. You could feel yourself getting more turned on. Miles picked you up and laid you back on the table from earlier. He more or less dropped you and held you on your back. He snarled as he watched you squirm under his large hand, his jaw moved from side to side.

He was planning how he wanted to abuse your poor pussy.

One thing you learned about him was he enjoyed eye contact. If he was eating you out, he’d stare at you and you better be staring back. Same with when you gave him head, on top of that, while fucking he also wanted to see your eyes. You couldn’t close them from pain or pleasure, you had to keep them on his. He made you stare at him as he unbuttoned his pants, he kept eye contact with you as he roughly pushed into you. He pushed all of his length into you in one go, it made you moan out loudly. You have been prepared well enough but it still stung and especially just from how he just pushed it all inside. He was bottomed out and he was one of the longer and thicker ones. He started to thrust into you right away, he took no prisoners either.

He was merciless, he lifted a leg to rest it on the table to get better leverage to fuck you deeper. Your small hands clawed at his back; you were in pain but it felt so good. Miles was deep inside, he was fast and normally at this point, you’d just lay your hand on your lower stomach to feel the bulge of his cock outlined in your skin. You couldn’t your body was so wound up, he was stimulating you so much, you just gripped onto his skin.

Your abs were so tightly restricted, you were just constantly being overstimulated. Your eyes fought to stay open to stare into his as he fucked you, all you wanted to do was close your eyes and throw your head back. You fought with yourself to keep from letting your body feel the pleasure, you had to keep your eyes open. Not to mention, even if you begged, he probably wouldn’t have let you cum.

“Miles, Miles, please, I can’t. I have to cum.”

“You will wait till I do then I will let you.”

You sighed out in protest, you could barely hold it, you wanted to cum now. You knew he wouldn’t be too much longer but still, you had to cum now. You felt him twitch, he was close he had to be, it was light there was light at the end of the tunnel. He came deep inside you; you cried out as it just filled you up.

“Miles, please, can I cum?”

His sharp deep thrusts didn’t stop, “have at it, cupcake.”

It only took a second after he finished his sentence for you to cry out while cumming. Your body moved on its own, your eyes squeezed shut and the top of your head hit the table. It was probably one of the most intense orgasms the recoms have ever given your human body. Miles kissed your sternum a few times before pulling out, Ja was quick to pick your tired and spent body up and place you in his arms. He sat down with your body resting on his, he was grounding you by rubbing at your back and running a hand through your hair.

“Don’t you want to get off too?”

“No, baby. You’ve done too much. Your body is tired and probably sore. We can wait,” Ja said to you.

“But I’ve taken you all before?”

“Yeah, that was when you were taking two or three of us at once and we didn’t make you hold your orgasms. You rest, we have all the time in the world,” Zdog said butting in to kiss your tired and sweaty face.

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borathae · 1 year

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"Yoongi can’t talk right now. He is so ruined and it’s only been seconds. This is going to be the biggest torture you ever made him go through. Being touched and licked should have prepared him for your pussy, but it didn’t. When you played with him, Yoongi noticed the spell but it felt more like very intense edging to him. He is starting to realise that this is so much more."

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut, domestic Fluff

Warnings: switch!Yoongi, switch!Reader, this goes from Dom to subbiest!Yoongi, he is all cocky at first but then turns into the whiniest baby, i love when men submit :), he spanks her casually and talks about putting her over his lap, it’s not in a sex related context but with heavy sexual undertones, she is such a tease when she subs ahaha, and a sexy demon when she Doms, explicit flirting, dirty talk, istfg the tension between them, a lil bit of dry humping, sex spells, magical orgasm control, strength & size kink, she lifts him onto the counter to feel him up, stripping, he sits on her lap as she gives him a handjob, edging, praise, good boy kink, she calls him kitten, he calls her Mistress, begging, sexy possessiveness, messy nipple sucking, blowjob, deep throating, CBT, masochist!Yoongi, she rides him, his big vampire cock makes an appearance, so much cum besties, subby boy tears, his fangs make an appearance too, she fucks him into non-verbal subspace, dollification in the sense that he can't move anymore cause it feels so gooood, this is both the kinkiest sex ever but also deeply emotional for him, you know me there's gonna be an emotional conversation at the end, they're in love :(

Wordcount: 11.4k

a/n: listen besties, you know my thoughts on them. i can't form any more words. i just love them and i want them to be happy always 🤎

“My love?” you say, sitting down next to him and draping your arm over his tummy.

He was lounging in his living room, writing lyrics in his notebook when you interrupted him.

“What do you want?” he asks, not looking up.

“Why do you think that I want something?”

“You’ve got your needy princess voice on.”

“I don’t have a needy princess voice”, you mumble with a pout.

Yoongi lowers his pen and gives a look, cocking his right brow up.

“Even if I do”, you give up, “you can at least give me a chance to voice it.”

He lowers his book to his lap and turns just a little so you are facing him better.

“I’m all ears.”

“Okay so”, you begin by taking his hands and bouncing on the sofa excitedly, “I’ve been thinking and I wanna show you something.”

“Okay?”

“Here. This”, you place a piece of paper into his palm, “read it.”

Yoongi sighs in defeat and reads whatever secret you put onto the paper. He looks attentive at first, but soon his expression changes into utter surprise and shock until landing on confusion.

“Where did you get this from? I didn’t show you that yet.”

You snicker mischievously, grabbing his thigh to shake his leg.

“What do you think of it?”

“I wanna know where you got this from. That’s not the magic we’ve been practicing.”

“Tae. He had this really interesting book on sex magic and he gave it to me and I went through lots of spells with him already. This was one of them.”

“Princess”, Yoongi says in his scolding voice, lowering his eyes at you, “what did I tell you about doing new magic behind my back?”

“Technically you said that I knew enough control these days that I can feel safe in myself.”

“Yeah and then I followed it up by telling you to discuss new magic with me before trying it. Perfect control doesn’t mean being master of all magic. You can still get hurt or hurt others. This is crazy”, he says, lifting the piece of paper to wave it in the air, “you’re not ready for this kinda stuff.”

“But I am.”

“What do you mean?” he squints his eyes, “princess, what did you do?”

“I’m only gonna tell you if you promise not to get mad.”

He squints his eyes even harder, making it difficult for him to see. But he doesn’t need to see clearly right now, to see the utter mischief in your eyes. You may pretend to be sorry right now, but you aren’t. You are completely and utterly confident in your past sins and Yoongi is meant to accept them all. He loves that you feel safe enough with him to feel no fear in confessing to him, but he also hates that your trust in him means that you will act reckless way too frequently.

“Fine”, he grumbles through gritted teeth, “I won’t get mad.”

“Okay so, I practiced with Tae. Many, many times until I was good at it. Then I practiced it on Tae and at first it didn’t work, but the second time we tried it I was able to control it for ten minutes. And by the third time we tried it, I managed to do it for an entire session.”

“Fucking hell, this is giving me a headache”, he murmurs, massaging the bridge of his own nose, “what else? I get a feeling that’s not it.”

“Of course not. I did it a few more times with Tae and it went splendidly with all of them. And then I did it, okay so remember how Kook and I went on a camping trip?”

“You did it to Kook?!” Yoongi gasps, “are you outta your mind? Princess, don’t do that.”

“No, it’s not like that. I did it to him and it went well”, you calm him down, taking his hands, “it went really well. So well actually that I gave him a Ripper high without blood.”

Yoongi gawks. The silence between you and him is heavy, but not uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, you did what?”

“I gave him a Ripper high without the blood, just by controlling his orgasms and making him cum really hard.”

“Stop fucking with me.”

“I’m not. This actually happened. Ask Kook.”

Yoongi studies your face with distrust in his eyes.

“Go on, ask him”, you stress, shaking his arm.

“No, don’t be weird”, he whines and shakes you off, “I’m not gonna ask him that. Goddamn it princess, I wanna be so mad at you right now. You’re so reckless. Do you even have an idea what could have gone wrong? What you could have done? What-”

You silence him by kissing his lips. Deep and passionately. With your hands cradling his face and your tongue tasting his surprised gasps. Deeper. You need him to forget he ever wanted to be mad at you.

You climb his lap, hook your arms behind his head to pull him close. Yoongi sounds so utterly helpless underneath you. His thighs keep pressing together and his fingers cling to your body desperately. How obviously ruined he is. Just from simple kisses.

You break them because you know that you’ve got him enchanted.

“Nothing happened”, you whisper.

“If you think that I’m just okay with it because you kiss-”

You kiss him again, even deeper than before.

Yoongi shakes you off, “princess, stop that. You-”

You pull him back into the kiss, silencing his growl of complaint by stuffing his mouth with your tongue. His fingers twist your jumper at the back, his throat produces a small keen of helplessness. His tongue tangles with yours. He couldn’t even control it happening. It was instinct.

Your fingers begin scratching him behind his ear. He’s sensitive there, resulting in his chest to rub against yours as he arches his back.

He’s distracted. Good. Your plan has worked.

You break the kiss again, basking in the desperate sigh he lets out. His pouty lips chase you. You know that he wants more. Good. He can’t think about scolding you if he craves your kiss.

You flutter your eyes open once you are far away enough that you can comfortably look at him. He has his head tilted back and his eyes half-lidded. They switch between staring at your lips and gazing at your eyes.

“Don’t do that”, he whispers.

“Just needed you to shut up”, you answer him as your fingers play with his hair at the nape of his neck. You know how much this makes him shiver. He gets so weak because of hairplay.

Yoongi chuckles deeply, sliding his hands to your butt. He spanks you with both hands. Hard enough to make it tingle and to force your body to flinch into him instinctively. You even let out a surprised moan, arching your back.

“Say shit like that again and I’ll put you over my lap”, he warns, rubbing the tender spots on your pulsating buttocks, “understood?”

“You’re being unreasonable”, you argue, earning yourself another spank. You had hoped that it would. It burns so good, making you sigh his name.

“Are we understood?” he stresses as his big, manly hands rub your tender flesh. His touch feels addictive.

“Yes”, you get out, “yes, we’re understood.”

“Good girl. I like you so much better when you listen”, he praises and runs his hands along your waist. Up and down, back and forth. His touch feels like electricity on your skin.

“Yoongi”, you sigh, grinding on his lap instinctively. The spanking made you needy, “Yoongi, I wanna try the spell on you.”

His touch stops. Silence. His eyes are widened as he stares at you.

“I’m sorry?” he gets out.

“I wanna do it with you.”

“Why do you wanna do that?” Yoongi gasps with widened eyes.

“I don’t know, I just thought that it could be fun”, you say, shrugging your shoulders.

“You’re just gonna mess it up”, he is pretending to be against it. You can see it in his eyes.

“I know I can do it and you’re the only one who didn’t get to experience that yet”, you try harder.

“I’m three thousand years old. What makes you think I never experienced that before?”

“Because you were a brooding loner, who didn’t wanna be touched, for most of it”, you throw back.

“Wow”, he lets out and laughs. It’s heavy in amusement. His hands slide to your ass, taunting you because they aren’t lifting for a spanking again, “I was a perv for the first few centuries. You know that I was.”

“Yeah well, then you didn’t experience it with me yet”, you throw back.

Yoongi smirks. He’s so sexy when he does that you feel your heart flutter at the view.

“I’m busy with lyrics.”

“That’s okay. We can do it whenever you have time.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t act stupid”, he says and picks you up so he can lie you down on the sofa. He hovers above you, pressing his crotch against yours, “you’re so fucking wet already and you wanna act all innocent with me”, he rasps, rolling his hips into you, “as if I have the choice to still say no.”

“You always have a choice. You just gotta be stronger than your urges and stop getting affected by my smell.”

“You’re a brat”, he says as his amused smirk grows, “fuck, I wanna make you cry on my cock.”

You shudder. He’s driving you insane. He can be so dirty-mouthed if he wants to.

“You can only do that after I made you shake”, you tell him, earning yourself a deep growl from him.

“See? I have no fucking choice.”

“Yeah, you do.”

His eyes gleam in the thrill of this little game you are playing. He closes the distance between your lips, needing your kiss. The tug was too unbearable otherwise. He is so hungry for you.

You however, turn your head away. It results in his lips to mouth at your jawline. He lets out a chuckled whine, dragging his fangs over your skin without pressure.

“Don’t deny me”, he whispers deeply.

“I don’t wanna kiss right now”, you lie, twisting his hair playfully.

“Yeah, you do. You just get off on being cruel”, he rasps and nibbles on the spot where your jawline meets your ear.

“Maybe. Or maybe I just don’t wanna get lost in something which isn’t my plan.”

“Plans can change.”

“No”, you laugh and push at his chest harsh enough that he has to sit up. You sit up as well. Your legs are tangled together, your middles pressed closed. “Not this plan. I still have lots to do. Potions to brew and bottles to fill, so you still have a few hours to think about your answer.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then you can have my kiss and you can make me cry on your cock.”

“See? That sounds like a good plan.”

“Definitely, but I also know that you’re only pretending to be against my plan.”

Yoongi chuckles, cocking his right brow up.

“Brat”, he says, making you grin victoriously.

“Yeah, I know”, you say and untangle yourself from him. You get up from the couch even if Yoongi tries so hard to keep you with him. In the end however, his hands slip from your hips and he is left feeling cold and desperate while you look down at him.

You run your hand through his hair. Yoongi tilts his head back instantly, looking at you with half-lidded eyes.

“Think about it”, you tell him, “I gotta go back to work.”

You step back, but Yoongi manages to snatch your hand. He holds it tightly, guiding it to his lips so he can kiss it.

“Stay. Don’t go”, he begs, looking up at you with pleading puppy eyes.

You really want to stay. Hell, you want to kiss him and touch him and allow him to make you feel so good that you cry. But you can’t. The game of chase is too much fun with him and you know for a fact that Yoongi loves it just as much. There are many occasions where you turn each other on without acting on it instantly. The thrill of denial and the desperate hunt which follows, makes the sex all the more intense.

“I’m sorry, I can’t”, you tell him and slip your hand out of his hold.

“Princess”, he pleads, but you step back.

“I’m in my kitchen. Yeah?” you tell him and turn to leave.

“Fuck”, Yoongi drops in the sofa, running his hand through his hair, “you’re so fucking cruel.”

You are in the doorframe, looking over your shoulder. The playful smirk you send him, makes him crazy.

“See you later”, you coo and finally turn to truly leave.

You spend the next hours getting needier and needier. You just can’t stop imagining all the possibilities of tonight and as your mind produced vivid images of Yoongi being lost in pleasure, it couldn’t help but wander to past evenings with him. Shared moments of intense pleasure run through your mind and make you all the more desperate for him. It may sound peculiar, but you love those feelings. Thinking about sex with him is just as exciting as actual sex with him. You love swimming on those thoughts and especially when you know that your near future will include sexy times with him. The knowledge makes the fantasising just all the more sweet.

You managed to fill an impressive amount of potions in the time you thought about Yoongi.

You made a deal with Maël and the Seville pack to deliver potions for the upcoming blue moon next week. The wolves want to strengthen their lifespan and asked you to deliver the needed potions for it. The ritual will be a werewolf only event, but you are allowed to see the preparations with the explanation that you are Min Yoongi’s mate. It is honestly remarkable which places you are allowed to enter without question because you are his love. It is also very nerve-wrecking to think about which important people trust your magic because they know that Yoongi has his entire trust in you. You are obviously excited about all the opportunities, but if you told your past self what kind of life she would be living one day and what kind of job she would be pursuing, she would have called you crazy. You’re a witch, delivering potions to an established and highly important werewolf pack and you are helping your vampire Creator mate keep the peace between the supernatural factions. Goddamn, your life is awesome.

There is a sudden knock on your door. Your heart does somersaults in your chest, your knees almost give up on you. He is here. Yoongi is finally here. You check the clock. It’s not even been two hours. It felt so much longer than that however.

“Yes?” you call out, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

The door opens and in steps Yoongi. He seems to have taken a shower as he is in a rope and nothing else. The rope is black with golden dragons on the material and a golden belt. His long raven hair is tied into a bun.

“Oh? Hey there”, you tell him as calmly as possible, while your heart is almost giving up in your chest. You pretend to be busy with wrapping rope around the potion necks, whilst in reality you are just waiting for him to make a move.

The door locks.

Your heart races even more.

Yoongi is by your side within seconds, wrapping his arms around you from behind and connecting his lips with the side of your neck. His big hands squeeze you while his strong arms pull you against him. You stumble because of it, but Yoongi holds you with enough strength that you barely even notice the stumble. He sways you from side to side slowly, helping you instantly float on the sensation of being close.

You feel light-headed. Fantasising about being intimate with him made you so sensitive that his neck kisses feel like paradise right now.

“You were being fucking awful with the shit you pulled”, Yoongi rasps, “telling me all this shit and then just leaving. You think I was able to actually be productive these past two hours?”

You can feel his voice against your back. You press yourself closer because of it.

“I was just saying. It was just an idea.”

“Stop fucking around”, he warns, guiding his lips to the shell of your ear, “you knew what you were doing.”

You smile. Of course you knew what you were doing, that’s why you did it in the first place.

“And what is your answer?” you ask him.

“If we are gonna do this, I need you to promise me not to tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t. It’s our secret.”

“Good girl”, he praises and turns you in his arms. He presses you against the countertop, staring you down with dark, enchanting eyes. You feel so drawn to him. You touch his chest.

“So how are we gonna do this?” you ask him.

“Not so fast. I’m not done yet”, he says and takes your hands to guide them behind your back. He steps closer this way, making you gulp as you look at him. He lowers his voice, caressing your wrists as he keeps you pinned, “I need you to promise me that if I won’t react as well to the spell, to not get disappointed.”

“What? You mean that you’re too strong for it? Like you are too strong for the rope spell?” you taunt, staring at his lips.

Yoongi tugs his brows together, making you snicker victoriously.

“Don’t worry about it, my love. It’s okay to be nervous”, you tease him as you rub his chest.

His frown grows, but you know not to be intimidated. He is just embarrassed to be caught in a lie.

You run your hands to the nape of his neck and begin to play with the hair he didn’t put into the bun.

“Anything else?” you ask him.

“You’re a brat”, he mumbles.

“I know”, you grin, “and you love it. Be honest.”

His frown softens. He steps closer, sliding his big hands to your hips. He lowers himself, you do the same. You are resting against the desk in a way so that your legs are between his’ and he can look down at you. Your weight, you support with your elbows propped on the countertop.

The tension is unbearable. Your lips are only a tilt of the head away from feeling the other’s kiss.

“Kiss me right now”, he orders in a rasp, staring at your lips with half-lidded eyes.

“And if I won’t?”

“I’m gonna get my kiss regardless.”

“Is that a threat?”

“This is the truth.”

You giggle, “oh Yoongs, you are so delightful.”

Yoongi gazes at your lips.

“Kiss me”, he whispers.

You lift yourself. Yoongi moans, parts his lips and closes his eyes. He is so eager to kiss. With a fluttering heart, you watched it happening. You giggle and lower yourself again.

Yoongi opens his eyes.

“Please”, he begs, cupping your cheeks. He lets his words swirl over your lips, “give me permission to kiss you.”

“You’re so cute”, you whisper.

Yoongi moves his lips as if he was already kissing you, letting out a pained sound.

“I’m begging you, allow me. Please.”

“I don’t even have to enchant you to get you begging”, you taunt, inching closer.

Your lips ghost over his’. Yoongi moans softly, squeezing your cheeks. He doesn’t move in. Not until you initiate it. The denial aches.

“You’re a delight”, you whisper and push him away from you

Yoongi stumbles back, looking so utterly hurt. You take his waist and switch your roles, pushing him against the counter. One surprise movement later, he sits on top of it, pressing his legs together in embarrassment.

“Why would you do that?” he complains.

“Because I can”, you are smiling up at him and kneading his hips, “now stop pressing those legs together and let me get a peek.”

Yoongi follows without hesitation, gawking at you with his eyes slowly getting softer in submission. He knew that he would be the submissive tonight and he loves it. He feels so excited about it. You are such a good Dom and you know him like no other. He trusts you, he can be naked with you, vulnerable and utterly himself and you wouldn’t judge him. Which is why he loves it when you’re bossy. Yoongi loves being a helpless slut just following your orders.

You slide your hands to his inner thighs, sending electricity through his veins. You massage them gently, never going past the hem of his rope. He wants you to go past. He currently exists for nothing else than your touch.

“You’ve got the softest thighs, my love”, you gush and look into his eyes, “I want to exchange safewords with you.”

“Snowdrop.”

“That’s right and is it okay for me to control the scene?”

He nods his head, opening his legs further. You are caressing his skin mindlessly as you talk and it feels so good.

“Say it.”

“Yes, it’s okay.”

“Good boy. Is it okay for me to take off your clothes and to touch you?”

“Yes, it’s okay.”

“Both?”

“Why are you asking so many questions? You’ve been torturing me for two hours, please I wanna be touched and cum in your hands”, he whines, cracking you up.

You bounce on the spot, blinding him with your smile. Your fingers knead his flesh. It tickles uncomfortably which forces Yoongi to whine and push them away. You change your grip, now caressing him again. This all happened within seconds as you smiled at him.

“You won’t cum for a long time, kitten. So get that outta your head.”

Yoongi gulps, opening his legs even more. He looks so, so needy this way. And like such easy prey. He even arches his back so his nipples would slip out of the rope accidentally. So perky and dainty. He’s got the prettiest nipples. You ogle them for a moment then look back at his face.

“And second of all, I fucking love you acting this way. My pretty slut, mhm?”

Yoongi rolls his hips against nothing. His skin is charged in sensitivity, his body feels fuzzy. With just your eye contact, your simple touch and your words, Yoongi already feels fucked. Shit, you are such a safe space for him. You make it so easy to switch from his normal – careful and wary – headspace to his sub headspace.

“One last question, promise”, you say, running the back of your nails up and down his inner thighs. Yoongi places his hands behind his back, putting his weight on them just so he can arch into your touch.

“Please hurry up”, he stresses, hurting unbearably. He needs your touch on his cock. It hurts so bad to be denied.

“Is it okay for me to go with the flow or do you need me to ask for consent each time I do something new?”

“I wanna be touched”, Yoongi begs.

“Answer my question, kitten.”

“Don’t ask for consent, just touch me. I’ll say if I don’t want something.”

“There we go, that’s all I needed to know. Thank you for being such a good cooperator, kitten. Such obedience needs to be rewarded”, you say and slip your hands from his thighs.

You twist the golden belt between your fingers and open the loose knot with one tug. The fabric still hides him, but you open it. You want to see him and marvel at his beauty. His ivory skin glows golden in the candlelight, his dark nipples are swollen and against his soft tummy, his hard cock stands impatiently and aches for your touch. His velvety cockhead is flushed, the thick veins on his cock pulsate as he gets harder under your greedy eyes.

“Look at that. You’re already hard”, you gush, looking up at him, “kitten, you’re so hard.”

“I’m so needy.”

“Of course you are. My needy kitten.”

You run your fingertips to his tummy. Up, up, up until you can trace his pecs and down again. Teasing. You trace the outline of his cock on his tummy without touching him on his cock.

“Please touch me”, Yoongi begs. He’s such a good boy with you, always so eager to beg.

“I am.”

“Touch my cock, please”, he tries, arching his back.

“You’re such a fucking delight, my kitten”, you rasp and step closer. Your fingers slide to his waist, your lips connect themselves with his chest. Your teeth take his right nipple and play with it hungrily. Your lips suck him swollen, your tongue tastes his skin.

Yoongi feels lightheaded while his nipple feels charged in pleasure. Every touch, kiss, lick and bite feels better than the last. He thought that he couldn’t get any needier, but he was wrong.

“___”, Yoongi begins moaning your name. That means a lot with him. Your name doesn’t fall from his lips often. Only when he feels deeply and overwhelmingly emotional. Being pushed deeper and deeper into the safest, most pleasurable subspace is definitely one of the most intense emotions he can experience. Your name feels like relief during those moments, your syllables taste like candy on his tongue.

You switch sides. You are a very fair Dom after all. His nipples need to be worshiped equally. He has such a pretty pair of them. Once his left nipple feels as swollen as his right, you lift your head.

His cheeks are flushed. He is breathing heavily. Your thumbs stay on his nipples, rolling circles into them.

“Be my good kitty and take off your rope”, you order him.

Yoongi obeys. The rope falls onto the countertop and stays there.

“There we go. Look at you.”

Yoongi is entirely naked while you are still dressed. If his past self could see him right now, he would actively make sure never to meet you just so he doesn’t have to get naked in such a demeaning way. But Yoongi isn’t his past anymore. Yoongi is in love and he is happy and he found his safe home with you, which means that being naked while you were dressed feels good to him. Maybe even empowering because of how incredibly smitten you look.

“I want to worship you for hours, my love”, you tell him as you run your hands over his torso.

“Because I’m beautiful?” he asks shyly, earning himself your eye contact.

“Say that again.”

“Do you want to worship me because I’m beautiful?”

Your heart does somersaults in your chest.

“Do you think that you’re beautiful?” you can barely get the words out.

“Yes”, he whispers, lowering his head shyly.

“Holy shit”, you press out. Your hands cradle his face, your eyes sparkle as you make him look at you, “holy shit, Yoongi my love. You, you never said that- you, oh god, are so beautiful, oh my love”, you choke out and squeeze his cheeks.

Yoongi feels great. Nothing hurts. Except his cock. Oh god, he is thinking of it again.

“Can you touch my cock?” he begs, “please, I was a good boy”, and he bargains.

“I can, just not here. Follow me, my love”, you say and take his hands to tug him off the countertop.

He hops off and follows you to the sofa. You twirl and fall, tugging him down with you by his hips. Yoongi stumbles and falls onto your lap, gawking at you with widened eyes.

“What the hell?” he says.

“You like it?”

“Why should I, I like it? You tugged me down and that’s it.”

“No, I meant do you like this?” you ask him and wrap your hand around his cock to jerk him off.

Yoongi gasps, writhing desperately as his legs squeeze around your thighs. His eyes widen for just a second before his lids flutter and a breathy "ah" slips past his lips.

The first touch won’t ever lose its spark. Yoongi has to moan again because all the mental and physical teasing made him unbearably sensitive.

You place your unoccupied hand on the small of his back and tilt his hips so his cock thrusts into your palm. Then you continue your rhythm, running your skilled hand up and down his entire length.

“Do you like this? Mhm?” you repeat your question.

“Yeah”, Yoongi gets out, writhing on your lap. This position is a first for him. To sit on your lap and have you touch his cock. He feels so vulnerable and small in this position and it’s messing with his already dizzy head.

Yoongi lowers his head, looking down at where your hand makes him feel electric. His tip is glistening in his excitement.

You run your fingers to it and give him a squeeze, forcing more droplets to leak out of him. The sensation combined with the visual makes Yoongi moan.

It was soaked in surprise, shock, pleasure and submission with a hint of embarrassment in the end.

“Look at you”, you have your sexy, powerful voice on. The kind of voice which makes Yoongi’s knees weak, “you’re leaking like crazy”, you say and massage his pink tip in strong squeezes. You have him between your thumb and pointer finger, using the grip to really make him leak.

And he does. Oh, how he leaks. He gets so wet for you. He gets especially wet when you are helping him fall into his small subspace. And tonight. Oh tonight, you pushed him into it with one simple act. The act of sitting him down on your lap and playing with his cock.

“Look at all of this. You’re so wet for me, kitten.”

Yoongi falls even further, arching his back so the tip of his cock moves between your fingers. He closes his eyes and scrunches his nose. A breathy, “fuck” follows. So quiet and shy only you can hear it.

You watch him, feeling your tummy churn in excitement. His cheeks are rosy, his pretty button nose is scrunched up and his dark hair frames his delicate face messily.

“You’re so pretty”, you praise him, “my pretty kitten.”

“Please”, he chokes out and lowers his head. His body writhes on your lap, his cock throbs between your fingers.

“Yoongi, love”, you speak sickeningly sweet, placing your fingers under his chin to tilt his head up, “don’t hide your pretty face from me. Open your eyes.”

Yoongi obeys, looking at you with droopy, glassy eyes and his lips parting as he keens shyly. He can barely keep up eye contact. It makes him feel so shy that his tummy keeps fluttering. But he doesn’t want to disobey you. Not when you touch him so good and not when you look so pretty.

“That’s better. You have such beautiful eyes”, you say and smile, “keep looking at me, kitten.”

“___”, he whispers shakily, cupping your face as his hips roll back and forth on your lap. Like this, his balls and tender hole grind against you, sending bolts of warm pleasure through his middle. His palms are clammy. You know that it is because of a mixture of pleasure, coyness and the intense warmth his body produces because he is with his soulmate. His touch feels so alive on your skin, because this is how you make him feel.

“That’s it, don’t you dare look away”, you praise, rewarding him with the best touch Yoongi ever felt on his cock. Nobody feels like you do. Nobody makes him feel so good.

Yoongi mewls and runs his clammy hands to your jaw. He cradles it for just a second then his hands slip to the sides of your neck.

“My handsome prince”, you whisper, “you’re my handsome, pretty love.”

“You’re making me cum”, Yoongi chokes out and pulls a face of devastated pleasure.

“Thank you for telling me”, you say and retreat your touch, caressing his thigh instead.

“No”, Yoongi breathes and squirms, “please…”

“You’re such a good boy for telling me.”

“Don’t edge me, please”, he begs and tries to tug your hand back to his aching cock.

“You’re cute. I take it that I can start with the spell now?”

“What spell?”

“The orgasm control spell. Yoongi love, that’s why we’re doing this tonight. Did you already forget?” you ask in a fond snicker and your loving hands caressing his waist.

“Oh”, Yoongi lets out.

He was so lost in pleasure that he forgot the true purpose of tonight. He is so deep in subspace that he forgot the only reason why you are touching him is because of the spell. He feels a little sad at that thought, lowering his eyes.

“Unless you don’t want it anymore. Then we can do something else”, you say.

He shakes his head, “I want it, but I’m, I don’t know, I need reassurance.”

“Of course, oh Yoongi you’re my most loved. Yeah?” you say and slide your hand to his cock, “and I’m gonna make you see stars”, you add in a rasp as you run your hand up and down the underside of his cock.

Yoongi moans softly, closing his eyes and slipping his hands to your shoulders.

“Don’t stop”, he whispers and adds a breathy, “please, Mistress.”

“Okay. I won’t stop. Is it okay for me to do the spell when I notice you getting close again?”

Yoongi nods his head.

“I need to hear it.”

“Yes, surprise me with it. Please, holy fuck, don’t stop.”

“There we go, that’s what I like from you. You’re such a good boy voicing your consent like that”, you praise him as your thumb massages his most sensitive spot.

He writhes and moans softly, “fuck. There.”

“Yeah, right there. You’re such a good boy, my love. Such a good boy.”

“Okay please”, Yoongi reaches down and laughs panickedly, “be quiet.”

You snicker, “close?”

“Yeah…“

“You’re so cute”, you say and cup his cheek, “come here, kitten.”

Yoongi leans down. Your lips brush his forehead. A hot, breathtaking sensation shoots through his body. A big, unbreakable knot forms deep in his tummy and his cock suddenly feels like exploding. Not literally but he swears, one wrong touch and he would shoot cum everywhere. Except that there are touches on his cock and no matter how good they feel, he can’t let go.

You pull your head back, studying his face.

“Shit, ah”, he gasps, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to make sense of his own state, “what did you do? Ah.”

“See? And you wanted to tell me that you’ll be too strong for the spell.”

He somehow manages to open his eyes. They are filled with devastation.

“It shouldn’t feel like this.”

“Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head.

“What else?”

“I can’t, I can’t cum. But I want to. Please don’t edge me, I don’t know what- ah-”, he stutters, ending his senseless rambling by rolling his eyes back and closing them. His nose scrunches up, his fingers dig into your shoulders as his body begins fighting the enchantment. He keeps grinding and humping and bouncing on your thigh, all while his cock throbs and pulsates between your fingers.

“Look at you. You’re such a needy kitten. Look at you trying to cum”, you say and giggle maniacally, “you’re so cute.”

“Fuck. Shit”, he gasps and tugs your hands away. “Oh”, he startles because of his own reaction, looking at you with big eyes. His hands grasp themselves and move up to hide his lower face behind them, “sorry”, he mumbles into his little fists.

“You’re okay”, you soothe him, “I can stop this again. It’s not your taste, is it?”

“I don’t know”, he confesses and looks at his cock. It is swollen and pink. So pink it borders red. He drops his right hand and wraps it around his cock. He still covers his mouth with his left hand, changing the grip once his own touch meets his length. He squeezes his own cheeks, furrowing his brows as his eyelids flutter. A deep purr rumbles in his chest, his thighs squeeze your own. His own touch feels so different than yours. You have the softest palms while his’ are slightly calloused from fighting. He misses your softness whilst at the same time getting addicted to his rough touch.

“Fuck, please”, he begs as he tightens his fingers around his cock. He tugs on it, trying so very hard to make himself cum. He fails miserably at it, gripping your upper arm in desperation, “please princess, please.”

You watch him touch himself, caressing his twitching thighs as you do. His hand is so big around his cock. Yoongi isn’t small, he is actually the perfect length, but his huge hand makes his cock almost look tiny. He pumps it around his girth, squeezing out droplets of useless precum.

“Ah god, shit”, he presses out and speeds up his hand. Wet squelching and the needy sounds of him fill the room. He is panting like crazy, mixing in deep purrs and desperate gasps every now and then.

“There we go, touch yourself. Isn’t it fascinating? Look at your wet, little cock. Such a wet kitten cock, mhm?” you talk to him in your sexiest voice, soothing the shakes in his legs with tender touches.

Yoongi mewls loudly and drops his head against you. He humps you, fucking his cock between his naked tummy and your clothed stomach. His hands, once grasping his own body, slam down on the wall behind the sofa. He scratches his nails down as he somehow tries to make himself cum.

“Fuck”, he presses out, letting the word swirl over your face. His hips chase you quickly, giving his cock a fruitless fuck, “f-fuck.”

“Does that help?” you ask him with a fond chuckle on your lips and your hands grasping his buttocks. They are tensing uncontrollably, mirroring the desperation he currently experiences.

“No”, he croaks, “what did you do to me? I can’t cum. I want to cum, please.”

“Just say the word and I’ll stop this.”

But Yoongi doesn’t say the word. Yoongi mewls and fucks himself against you with such vigour it knocks the air out of you. And again. Again. Again. Yoongi is desperately humping you even if it makes breathing oh so hard for you.

“Stop that”, you laugh and grip his ruthless hips, “hey, you’re gonna make me have a stomach ache if you continue humping me.”

Yoongi drops onto your lap, whimpering into the crook of your neck. His hands cradle the back of your head, his body shudders.

“I can’t do this”, he gets out in a fragile voice.

“I will stop this, yeah?”

“Don’t stop please. I can’t cum. Holy shit, what did you do to me?”

“Magic”, you say and slide your hands under his thighs, “now don’t startle.”

Yoongi startles. You stood up with him in your arms and he didn’t expect it. He presses himself closer, whining about being put down.

“I’m too heavy, don’t do that.”

“You’re not heavy. Hush.”

You turn and sit him down on the sofa. Yoongi looks up at you, looking so embarrassed. He’s adorable.

You give him a grin and fall to your knees before him, spreading his thighs for him. Yoongi reacts in a thrust of his hips and his hands placing themselves over yours. You caress his skin and look up. He is breathing heavily, looking so utterly nervous yet turned on.

“My pretty kitten”, you praise and take his cock between your lips.

“Ah”, Yoongi gasps, furrowing his brows as his cock twitches into you. He is so messed up. His tummy clenches like crazy.

“Mhhhm”, you purr around him, sinking down on him until he tickles the back of your throat. You hum deliciously, swallowing around him to make it all so tight for him.

“Please”, Yoongi breathes and grips the edge of the sofa. He squirms, pressing out another “please” when you begin fucking your mouth with his cock. All while you are purring and humming and moaning around him, making him feel your voice in the most stimulating of ways. It makes him so sensitive.

Yoongi scrunches his face in desperate pleasure. He can’t cum. But he wants to cum. You feel so good. Hot, warm and soft. You keep sucking on his tip and licking the spots which are the most sensitive. Everything – every single fiber in his body – begs for him to let go, to fall into the sensations. But Yoongi can’t let go. The pressure in his tummy aches and makes breathing hard, his legs are so weak that they can’t even tremble anymore and his nails hurt from gripping the sofa. And yet he can’t cum. No matter how hard he tries.

You are at his tip again, sucking so harshly your cheeks fall in. All while your left hand is sliding to his balls and your right is jerking off his shaft. You are moaning as you feast on him, sending vibrations through his sensitive cock.

“Please”, he begs. Pleads. Whimpers. His eyes tear up. He closes them and curls his lips back as another high-pitched whimper rolls off his tongue.

“Mhhm, ah”, you slip off of him deliciously, slurping up the sweet mess he leaves just for you, “you’re so wet, kitten”, you taunt, massaging his thick vein and therefore forcing more useless precum out of his cock. It sits on his flushed tip as pretty, translucent pearls, “look at that mess. It’s so fucking useless, isn’t it?”

Yoongi takes your hand and squeezes it. You look up, meeting his glazed over eyes.

“Need a break?” you ask him to which he shakes his head, “what else? Mhm?”

“I need to cum”, he presses out.

“But you can’t. I know, you told me before”, you say and smile, kissing his knuckles softly, “don’t worry kitten, you’re in safe hands. And mouth”, you say and snicker at your joke, lowering yourself back to his cock.

Yoongi wanted to complain about your stupid joke, but couldn't because you stole his ability to speak. All he can muster are needy noises and desperate gasps for air.

You take him as deep as you can go, using the position to really push him past your throat’s limit. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s so incredibly hot to you. Especially because it makes Yoongi whimper above you and grip your head as his body slacks in utter defeat. His legs fall open further and his tummy softens as his muscles give up on him. He presses out a weak, “hngnmm” and lets his head all against the sofa and roll to the side as he is staring at you with heavy eyes.

He doesn’t use the leverage he has on your head. He truly wastes the opportunity, letting his hand lay limp on your head while you throat fuck his cock. Your left hand grips his pretty waist, your right cups his balls and tugs.

“Ah!” he yelps, thrusting into you against his will. His back arches off the cushions, his eyes roll back involuntarily. The pain was intense, gaining in intensity because your spell turned his body into one overly sensitive mess.

You slide off with a slurp, keeping your attention on his flushed tip while your hand tugs again. Harshly. The pain sits deep, but feels like paradise.

Yoongi drops his hand from your head for the sole purpose of rubbing his own face. With both hands. Desperately. Mostly to make sense of his state, but also to wipe some of the tears he spills.

Another tug on his balls reminds him that he’s your fucking slut. He throbs between your lips and chokes out an agonised sound. It is filled with so much pain and torture that you feel the need to check up on him.

“Colour?” you ask, massaging his aching balls gently.

“Green”, the word leaves him breathlessly, a small whimper follows, “please let me cum, please.”

“Mhm, I don’t know. You’re so cute when you’re like this”, you coo and kiss his tip, “my cutie.”

Yoongi touches your head before cradling your cheek. His palm is sweaty, his touch weak yet loving. You tilt your head up to see him.

“Please", he whispers, staring at you through his lashes. His dark hair hangs into his face messily. He is practically glowing in pleasure. The view makes your heart race. He is so pretty.

“You’re cute when you beg”, you say and give his balls a tug. Once stretched to their limits, you incorporate a twist to really drive the pain deep.

Yoongi’s face scrunches in pleasure, he squeaks out a “please” while his enchanted cock throbs between your fingers.

“Like this, so cute”, you squeal and giggle, “my cutie patootie”, you add in a squeak and tug on his balls, giving them a twist when it hurts the most.

Yoongi thinks that you are the cruellest person ever. Your voice and the words it produces build him up and makes him feel so loved, your eyes show him how much he is adored and yet your hands torture him as if you hated him. You are so loving and yet so cruel. Yoongi can’t function because of it.

“Mistress, please”, he begs and squeezes your cheek gently.

“My cutie”, you say and kiss his palm. Just once because then you stand up. Your torturing, amazing touch ceases to exist. Yoongi feels cold because of it, aching in his chest.

He reaches for you instantly, “don’t leave, I need you”, he pleads.

“I’m not leaving”, you assure him and slide your hands to your own clothes to undress.

“Oh”, Yoongi lets out, watching you with heavy eyes, “you’re beautiful, princess.”

“You’re beautiful too, love.”

You step out of your pants and get on his lap. Yoongi welcomes you with his hands touching your hips instantly. You slide your hands to his jaw, using a gentle grip to tilt his head up. Yoongi gazes up at you, looking so utterly ruined. Only you can get him this way. Ruined and flushed. So pretty.

“You’re gonna cum inside me. Are we understood?”

“Yes, Mistress”, he whispers as he runs his hands up and down your lower back.

A faint smile washes over you. You run your thumb to his lips to trace them. Yoongi chases you with a soft moan and his tongue darting out to lick you. You allow him, watching him lap at your thumb while his devoted eyes are gazing at you.

“Who do you belong to, Yoongi?” you ask him.

“___”, he says your name without needing to be asked.

“Yeah, that’s right”, you press out with a fluttering heart, “shit, you’re mine.”

“Yours…”

You pick up his cock and sink down on him. Yoongi’s face scrunches up. He is so overtaken by pleasure and yet he still finds the strength to press out a desperate “yours.” As if it was instinct, but it’s not instinct. It’s the result of a well-trained, loved and utterly devoted sub finding his heaven in his Dom. And it’s his desperate attempt to show you that you and only you own him. He is yours and only yours and being reunited with you is the drug his body runs on.

“That’s right. Mine”, you praise and bottom out. You caress his neck and begin moving on him. Up and down with a skilful roll in your hips to make sure he hits every single inch of you.

Yoongi presses out a desperate moan and drops his head into your chest. He hugs you close, shaking in a tearless sob. It feels so good to be fucked by you.

“You’re doing so well”, you praise him, hugging him against you with your hands deep in his soft hair.

Yoongi can’t talk right now. He is so ruined and it’s only been seconds. This is going to be the biggest torture you ever made him go through. Being touched and licked should have prepared him for your pussy, but it didn’t. When you played with him, Yoongi noticed the spell but it felt more like very intense edging to him. He is starting to realise that this is so much more. With every bounce on his sensitive cock, every clench of your soft walls, every swirl of your hips, Yoongi feels less and less in control of his own body. This is the true effect of the spell. Every second with you feels like ecstasy and yet Yoongi is denied its high. He is right at the source and yet can’t taste its sweetness on his tongue.

He forces his head to tilt back just so he can look up at you. His hair is a mess on his forehead, his eyes are barely open and his chin is still in contact with your chest.

He presses out your name until the first vowel then forgets how to talk as you slam down on his cock again and render him useless.

“You’re so handsome, my love”, you coo as you cup his cheek with your left hand. You keep your right still buried deep inside his long hair, giving him a soft tug because you know he can take it. The bun he once wore has long being ruined. You fucking love him like that. Messed up and ruffled just by you.

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut in the most devastating of ways, hiding his face in your chest again as his throat produces the most beautiful of sounds.

“So handsome and you’re taking me so well”, you praise while you are ruining him. You bottom out, writing your name with your hips. He should remember who treats him like that. He shouldn’t forget.

Yoongi falls back because his body is weakened more and more the longer you ride him.

You fall with him, laughing because you didn’t expect it. Your hands slam onto the wall to support yourself, your boobs smother him.

“Careful baby”, you snicker.

“Yours”, he croaks and gathers your tits just to suck and lick them. He is wet and sloppy with it, giving you glimpses of his fangs and you are loving it.

“Yes baby, this feels so good”, you encourage him and use the new position to bounce on him. Your clit grinds against his lower tummy this way, while his cock hits all the right spots deep inside.

Yoongi mewls and whimpers into your tits while you feel yourself get lost as well. You are going to cum on his cock. That’s all you can think about right now. His touch, his lips, his warmth and throbbing cock paired with the feeling of having him at the tip of your fingers makes you feel so weakened.

Yoongi drops his lips from your nipple. He can’t breathe. If he doesn’t fight for air soon, he will pass out. His head is against the edge of the backrest, your tits are all in his face while you bounce him. You fuck him so hard that the impact your ass makes on his thighs is audible. You sound so wet. So goddamn wet. He feels it stick to his thighs and run down his balls. Your puffy walls keep clenching and sucking on him as you make yourself cum. Yoongi knows those motions by heart. You always start to get tighter when you are getting close. Yoongi finds it hard to control himself during such a ride on normal days, but today he is actually suffering. He wants to cum, but he can’t. He is so serious. He wants to cum, but he can’t. Why does nobody know how serious he is? He wants to cum, but can’t. He can’t. Every second feels like that one pivotal moment before he tips over the edge, but he can’t.

“Please”, he begs, scratching his nails down your back. He doesn’t even realise that he is leaving marks on your skin. All he needs you to fucking understand is that he can’t fucking cum, but he wants to so, so bad.

“I’m so close, baby”, you moan above him, caring shit about him. You are just using him and his enchanted cock. Yoongi feels so ruined, spilling tears from his ruby eyes. Your tits keep slapping his face. It’s like mockery to him. He is so desperate to make you understand him and find pity in yourself and yet you are blind to it, “so close, kitten”, you press out, squeezing around his cock, “your pretty kitten cock is gonna make me cum so good.”

Yoongi tries to beg you, but can’t. He doesn’t know how to speak. Only animalistic sounds come easy to him. They’re not of feral nature, but that of a scared, little animal getting cornered by its biggest predator. You are talking about your impending orgasm while he suffers. Yoongi feels so fucking mocked by you and as a result, he wants to kiss the very ground you walk on. You own him.

You motherfucking own him.

“So close, kitten. So fucking close”, you moan as your tits remind him what heaven is and your pussy keeps his enchanted cock on edge.

Yoongi tries to help you, but he can’t. His body is useless. He can’t even get his legs to move or his hips to meet your bounces. He genuinely feels like a stupid, little sexdoll right now. A sexdoll meant to exist for your pleasure and to be useless otherwise. You could do anything to him and he couldn’t even fight back because you ruined his body to the point of paralyzing exhaustion.

All which still works are his hands and they are currently dimpling your ass from gripping you so goddamn harshly. He’ll leave bruises in the deepest parts of your flesh, but you can’t care about this right now. Yoongi doesn’t even notice that he is bruising you. He feels numb to anything other than your hot pussy and your tits in his face. He snatches for them and manages to brush his tongue over your left nipple. It’s so weak and slow, his licks that is, and Yoongi can’t speed up even if he wants to.

“Yes Yoongi, yes. Fuck my prince, my beautiful, ah”, you moan, rutting against him. Your walls are so tight. Yoongi tries to breathe through it, but even that gets hard when you knock the air out of him each time you slam yourself down on him.

Your hands come to cup his cheeks and tilt his head up. You want to meet his gaze, but can’t. Yoongi’s eyes are glued shut, his face is crinkled in pleasure. Or agony. You can’t decide. Maybe it’s both.

“My love”, you moan and climax to the view of him, “a-ah Yoongi”, you whimper, dropping your forehead against his’ as your body shakes out of control.

Yoongi’s hands lose strength as well. Your pulsating, clenching walls are too much. Not even spilling tears is enough to show the desperation he feels at this point. But he still does. It’s the only thing he can still do besides moan like crazy and fight for air.

You come down soon, but don’t slow down as you fuck your tight walls through the overstimulation.

Yoongi tries again to produce words, “p-please n-no more”, he chokes out and tries to grip your hips, “I can’t take much more.”

“I know kitten. Almost there”, you lull your words, sounding so ruined by your high. You speed up your hips, fucking him into insanity and no control.

“No more”, he squeaks and presses out a pained, “oh”, before a sob shakes him.

“Who do you belong to?” you rasp the words against his temple.

“You”, he chokes out, spilling tears.

“Yes Yoongi, fuck”, you lull as you drag your lips to his forehead, “cum for me”, you order and kiss his forehead.

The spell drops. Yoongi screams and arches his back off the sofa to its breaking point. His head he keeps thrown back, showing view to his throat and his agape mouth. His fangs are on full display as he screams over and over again as you finally fuck him to an orgasm. His cock, once perfectly human sized, grows into his supernatural length within a second.

“Fuck, ah”, you gasp, convulsing around the sudden intense stretch. One second you need to get used to it and then you are already bouncing on him again, fucking masses and masses of hot cum out of him, “yes Yoongi, cum for me. Yes”, you growl, using the edge of the backrest as support. Shit, he is cumming so hard that it is squirting out of you and you fear that he might stuff you past your body’s limits. You can’t get enough of him, wishing for him to reach places no human should be creamed at.

“Keep cumming for me. So fucking good. You’re such a good fucking boy”, you moan while Yoongi is reduced to screaming and clawing at the couch. If he didn’t claw at it, he would hurt you. He has no control over himself right now. It scares him, but all the more it fills him with sensations he hasn’t experienced in millennia.

Yoongi thought that he knew pleasure with you. He was so sure that he couldn’t climax any harder with you. You break him and build him up just to break him again over and over each time your bodies connect in pleasure. You know his every spot and how to get him to his breaking point, you know how to keep him there until even breathing gets hard and you know how to draw it out until begging is the only thing he can do. His pleasure is on your literal fingertips and Yoongi thought that you already dragged out the deepest highs from his soul. And yet he was wrong. He was still fucking wrong.

The last time he felt that kind of high, Yoongi lived a different life. He killed for pleasure, fucked for short relief and found his highest high in the taste of blood. He was twisted and wrong and loved nothing more than the sensation of blood coating his throat. He doesn’t like to think of this time in his life, but sometimes he thinks about the highs he can’t have anymore and begins missing them. And you are dragging such a high out of him right now. Safely. Without blood spill. Two millennia without it and Yoongi finds it again at the fingertips of his beloved woman. If he didn’t already exist solely for you, he would have started to do so right here and now.

His screaming stops in sync with his back dropping against the sofa. He grows limp as paralysation sets in. Yoongi is there for it. Mentally he takes in every second of his vulnerable state and he can’t do anything against it. He should feel scared, but he doesn’t. He just feels so ruined and happy that he wants to smile but he can’t. Even that he can’t do because you fucked him into helpless paralysation.

“Good job”, you praise and slip off of him, “ah shit, I’m not peeing myself right now, it’s your cum”, you say and laugh which makes even more cum squirt out of you. It covers his thighs and drips to the ground. Truly you are leaking like a goddamn faucet. You snicker at the situation and look at Yoongi when he doesn’t respond.

He is staring at the ceiling with ruby eyes and silent tears running down his cheeks. His lips are parted and his cheeks look so…fallen in as if his muscles stopped working.

“My love?” you ask, cupping his cheek, “what’s wrong?” you say, shaking his head gently. It flops from side to side without any kind of protest from him. Like his muscles forgot how to work.

You study him with furrowed brows. Unmoving and limp. Almost as if…you widen your eyes. This is the result of a Ripper High.

“Holy shit, I gave you a Ripper high”, you gasp and press out a squeaky giggle, “oh my love, I did it!” you exclaim and begin kissing every inch of his face, “I, I did it. I knew I could do it. Oh my love, oh I love you. My love, you’re doing so well. It’s safe to come back to me, my love. Take as long as you need to, I’m right here.”

Yoongi is present for all of it. Physically he is gone, but his mind and heart are still with you. He doesn’t feel your kisses and loving touches at first. At least not on his skin, his heart still feels their effect. It swells in his chest and fills with the warmest of warmths. He knows that what you are speaking is the truth. It is safe to come back to you. There won’t be agony and guilt waiting for him, just love and the healing feeling of home.

“My beautiful, handsome love. Oh my Yoongi, I’m so happy and so proud and oh, I love you like crazy.”

Your words have an even stronger effect on his heart, affecting his mind as well and healing wounds so deep he thought they could never heal. When he lived a different life, being paralysed after his high meant that he slaughtered villages, left families ripped apart and caused nightmares to whoever was unlucky enough to survive. When he lied paralysed between the massacred bodies of his once pleasurable hunt, the guilt and pain of what he did made him cry and scream his lungs out until he stopped tensing up and he had to flee the scene with his limbs barely wanting to work.

And now he knows that once he regains control of himself, there won’t be any bodies waiting for him. Just you. Perfectly fine and unharmed.

The first kiss he feels on his skin is one at the tip of his nose. You trail them up the bridge of it and by the time, Yoongi feels your lips on his forehead the feeling in his skin returned completely. He can feel the wet mess on his lap, your warmth against his skin and your loving touch on his face.

“___”, he croaks with his voice terribly ruined.

“Hey”, you speak gently, “welcome back. You did so well, I’m so proud”, you praise, tilting his head into a kiss.

It focuses his attention on his lips and Yoongi does everything inside him to make them work first just so he can kiss you back. It happens soon. Yoongi regains control over his lips and finally kisses you back and it fills him with so much overwhelming happiness that his body regains control within the brink of a second. He loves you so much and he shows you that he does with his arms wrapping around you and his body melting with yours as he sits up and deepens the kiss.

And he kisses you. Kisses you. Kisses you. And kisses you without wanting to stop. He kisses you with you on top of his lap, kisses you with his arms around you and his hands as deep in your hair as your texture allows it, kisses you with his chest flush against yours and his throat producing the most grateful, happy whimpers.

He stands up with you in his arms, still kissing you. He keeps kissing you as his weakened knees drag him down and he falls onto the couch with you underneath him. And even then he keeps kissing you, needing you to understand what this meant to him. What you just healed. What you fucking mean to him. He swears that no kiss he shares with you is enough to show you what he feels for you. None of them is enough and so he has to keep kissing and kissing and kissing you until he finally finds the one worthy enough of his feelings.

Quite frankly, he would have kissed you for countless more hours if you hadn’t broken it for him. You had to because he barely gave you time to breathe and you felt dizzy.

“___”, his begs are instant, his lips search for your kiss but find your fingertips. The spot on your body which holds his heaven, paradise and dreams. Yoongi begins kissing them, doing so with his body trembling in emotion.

“I can’t tell if you’re upset or not”, you whisper, watching him with overwhelming feelings in your chest. You always thought that he showed you every variation of kisses he had to offer, but the way he kissed you right now was unlike any kiss you ever shared. It left you feeling overwhelmed in the best ways possible.

He tries to answer you, but can’t. He is too overwhelmed by everything he feels.

“Take your time”, you encourage him, caressing his cheek with gentle fingers while his lips still kiss your other hand.

Yoongi tries again.

“The last time I felt this high, it was surrounded by dozens of massacred bodies”, he begins with his cheek seeking your palm. You help him find it, feeling your heart grow in love when he nuzzles into you, “I hated myself so much and wanted to die.”

“Yoongi my love”, you croak, cupping his other cheek as well.

“For hundreds of years I chased this high even if I hated it. For hundreds of years feeling it meant that I killed innocent people and left others traumatised and now you-” his voice breaks as his emotions overtake him.

He opens his eyes, giving view to the tears blurring his vision.

“I love you so much”, he chokes out shakily, “I-I want to know words more honest than love, but there are none. I love you so much more than love, I can’t f-find words. I feel so much for you”, he stutters and lets his head fall into the crook of your neck. He closes his arms around you, cradling you against him as best as the position allows him, “you’re the home I always longed for, ___”, he confesses, leaving you to spill tears because it felt so good to be loved by him.

“You’re my home too, Yoongi”, you say, hugging him against you as your nose nuzzles against his face, “god, you’re making me cry”, you confess in a chuckle, “I was planning for the evening to be fun and kinky and yet here we are sobbing again.”

“I feel so much, I can’t help it.”

“That’s okay, as long as we have each other we can be little crybabies after sex”, you say and making him laugh out a sob.

“Yeah”, he says, “ah fuck”, he gets out and laughs into the crook of your neck as much as he sobs.

You snicker and hug him closer, kissing his hair, “my Yoongi.”

Being with each other is the only thing that truly matters and if one was wondering, yes Yoongi will whine about everything which happened once he regained clarity again. It will come by morning after you and he shared cuddles in your bed and he wakes up to an empty bed and a magical note telling him that you were in your kitchen. He will find you kneeling by the couch as you attempt to fix the holes he ripped into the cushions and Yoongi will sit down next to said holes and give you the shiest glances you ever saw on him and mere seconds later, you and he will talk about last night. You will be terribly excited while Yoongi will whine at first about how reckless it was, but in the end he will giggle with you and tell you how nice you made him feel and that you healed wounds he never thought capable of healing. Then you will attempt to fix the couch together, stealing kisses and snuggles way too often as your giggles just didn’t seem to want to stop.

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starryschoolgirl · 10 months

Text

Just A Man

| A Soldier's Song Installment |

Summary -> As the weeks leading up to Elvis' deployment to Europe begin to dwindle you and Elvis try to help your son understand what it will mean. Meanwhile, inevitable tensions between you and Elvis are pushed to the side as the two of you figure sex is better than facing your issues, especially with such little time left together.

Warnings -> mention of family death, domestic fluff, flirting, mention of war, pre-deployment, Elvis being a young dad & husband, (much needed) sex with 50s Elvis, angsty undertones, smut, kitchen sex, swearing, foot kink, stocking kink, almost footjob(?), breeding kink, oral (f. receiving), unsafe sex

WC -> 5.8k

A/N -> So this is more of a prologue to the actual events of which this au series is based upon, to sort of give a glance into what life was like before Elvis gets deployed to Europe, I hope you enjoy it! In the next installment, we WILL see Elvis in uniform. This is an installation of the A Soldier's Song AU

“That one made my hand hurt Frankie!”

The little boy giggled at his daddy’s shocked face.

That battering of a baseball against a leather mitt is all that kept you company on the back porch of your home. Watching the two boys, your two boys, in the yard tossing the ball back and forth puts a smile on your face, but as you turn your head to the empty chair next to you that smile falls ever so slightly, missing the warmth that often emanated from that chair.

Elvis had been at basic training when she passed and was only able to make it back in time for her funeral, but even then while you were a wreck he remained as strong as he could. He held you in one arm and held your little boy in the other as the service proceeded.

You’d only had two grief-filled days with him before he went back to finish his basic training, you couldn’t even figure out whether or not he’d really come to terms with his mama because it all happened so fast. And now you’d only have a few final weeks with your man, all crisp and in shape from basic training, till he was off to a poor war-stricken country in Europe.

With that in mind you remembered to smile, in the knick of time too as Elvis looked up at you after running to pick up the stray ball that had rolled along the grass toward the porch due to your little boy’s poor aim.

He stared up at you like the school boy he used to be, and said with that tone of voice you’d often heard since he first laid eyes on you, “Hey there Cutie”

And like the school girl you used to be, you’d blush and only offer a small smile as you waved him off, “Go play with your son”

Elvis gave you that look, he wanted to say something he couldn’t say in front of young ears. He got up, ball in one hand while he wore his leather brown mitt on the other, with each step up the wood porch his smile grew, you could feel his curled lips on your cheek as he leaned down to kiss it.

Then quietly he’d murmur in a cooing, baby-talk type tone,

“Daddy wants to play with Mama though”

You rolled your eyes and put a placating hand on his clean-shaven cheek. After leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips you spoke quietly with that same baby-talk curve to your voice,

“Daddy can play with Mama when Baby goes to bed”

Elvis smiled softly at you and mumbled out a soft and assured, “Alright”, before stepping away to go back down onto the grass, giving Francis, or as Elvis nicknamed him, Frankie, an underhanded toss of the ball.

You turned one last time to the other chair and the empty cushion on it, you couldn’t look at it anymore. Thankfully you were needed elsewhere as you could smell the roast in the oven drift through the window of the kitchen out onto the porch.

After going inside as you tended to the food you could watch Francis and Elvis play about in the yard, it was quite big, but the two of them only remained within a small portion, part of the reason could’ve been because Francis couldn’t yet throw very far.

The sun was setting and the light practically flickered off of Elvis’ hair. Now being in the army he didn’t bother with that black dye, it would just be washed out as soon as he was back at base after all. And it wasn’t like he’d be making movies or releasing songs anytime soon, no not with what he was on his way to do in a few weeks.

You could just barely hear Elvis’ voice as he praised your son, “Frank my boy you might be the Babe Ruth of your generation if ya keep at it”. You couldn’t help but shake your head with a smile, Elvis talking to Francis as if the four-year-old knew who the Babe was and as if he knew what the word “generation” meant.

It was in Elvis’ nature to talk to children in that way though. He always treated them like little adults. You couldn’t recall a time when Elvis didn’t speak to children that way. His mama had made fun of him for it when Francis was two and he could only remark, “Frank is just people, like you and me are just people”

Oh goodness, you thought of her again.

You don’t think a day goes by when you don’t think about her. Elvis’ mama was a godsend, truly. And while he’d never open up about it, you know it’s affecting Elvis immensely. She was so involved in your life ever since you entered Elvis’ and she was always sweet and welcoming.

You could think back to a time not too long ago when after you’d eloped with Elvis and announced the news of your pregnancy at the young age of 18, your parents kicked you to the curb, but she welcomed you with open arms.

At the time Elvis was still driving a truck he hadn’t yet become the “movie star” that he was now. But despite the financial struggles of her Presley flock, Gladys happily welcomed another bird.

It was just a few months ago, before the whole fiasco of Elvis getting drafted and sent off to basic that you’d had a conversation with her in this very kitchen about that.

You told her how appreciative you’d always be toward her for being so welcoming to you, and she told you with an arm around your shoulder, “I’m a mother Hon, it’s only natural. The two of you were babies when ya had that itty bitty boy of yours, I couldn’t ever leave y’all out in the rain, you know that”

You knew no matter what Elvis would have stuck beside you, you knew he’d always be there to hold your hand. After all, you were mothering his child. But it helped so much more that his mother would be on the other side of you, holding your other hand to help you in whatever way you would allow.

Things were slowly returning to normal within the home, her lack of presence isn’t as pronounced, but that’s because she lives through memory now as more time passes, it’s almost like she’s not gone.

You hope that’s how Elvis viewed it. His stone face didn’t leave any slack for a crack or two, and for once it was getting hard to read him. But you’d continue to hope that it isn’t a facade and that he is okay. Yeah, you’d hope with all your might that your man was doing okay.

-----

Dinner was quiet, whenever your voice, or Elvis’ voice, or Francis’ voice didn’t fill the air, love would keep you all company. Of course as always Elvis got on Francis about playing with his food, having grown up poor Elvis was more sensitive to matters of waste such as that.

But if that was the stress high-point of the evening, then you could call it a good evening.

And as you now sat on the edge of the bed, a hand on Francis’ blanket-covered knee while Elvis kneeled on the floor next to the short, small children’s bed, you had a soft smile play on your lips as Elvis talked on the subject of him leaving in a few weeks.

Elvis and you had been explaining night after night to Francis what would soon happen, why his daddy would be going away for a while and what would happen after. After talking about it quite a bit within the first month of knowing about Elvis’ draft you and he decided it was best to be very open on the subject to make it less daunting when Elvis suddenly left home.

And after Gladys’ death you had to explain to Francis that his daddy’s absence would be different from his grandmother’s absence.

“Ya g-gonna fight bad guys Daddy?”

Elvis smiled and brought his hands up in fists, then with a few shadow-box moves which made Francis laugh, Elvis assured,

“You betcha, gonna give the bad guys one of these! And one of these!”

The little boy laughed, his laugh too big for his body as he bent over on the bed and held onto your arm with both his little hands.

After his precious giggles subsided, Francis sat up and asked curiously, a glimmer of what must’ve been a child’s worry in his eyes as he asked with that stutter that his daddy used to have,

“W-what if the bad, bad guys hurt yo-you Dad-Daddy?”

Your smile fell slightly as you and Elvis made eye contact at the suggestion. Of course that is something that you and Elvis had been careful approaching when it came to explaining this sort of thing to Francis.

You couldn’t explain it without truly worrying the boy, you felt tears prickle your eyes at just the thought. Elvis knew of your worries, he knew that quite a few of the girls you were friends with down at the beauty parlor had husband’s overseas, and that a few of them had gotten the dreaded telegram, along with a folded American flag.

He knew all too well your worries as he’d spent many nights being the one to soothe you back to bed. When he’d feign sleep even though he knew you’d spend mornings staring at him, just wanting to look at him as if you would soon lose this view.

Of course if he had died at war it might be different. Having been in a few films and sung a few hit records, he feared that if he died you might find out about his death through the newspapers. You would either find out through that, or as Elvis heard, on rare special occasions they’d send something much more personal, they’d send chaplains and military officers to tell the grieving widow in person.

Elvis hoped if he died he’d be that special occasion, that way you wouldn’t be alone when you heard about his death, the same way you were alone when you saw his mother in her state of death.

“Well,”

He started before getting up, and sitting next to you on the bed. He wrapped an arm around your waist and reached a hand out to rest atop yours which rested on Francis’ knee.

“Listen buddy, that sort of thing might happen, but ya don’t gotta worry. Your daddy’s strong, and he’s gonna get home to you and Mama. He promises.”

Your lip quivered as you tried to smile. Elvis could feel the way your hand tensed under his, he quickly pressed a kiss to your cheek and mumbled quietly for his little family to hear,

“And ya know I’m not a liar, I wouldn’t piss on ya leg and tell ya it’s rainin’ now would I?”

You abruptly turned your head toward Elvis’ crude analogy and hit his shoulder lightly making him laugh as Francis giggled at his daddy using a “nasty” word.

As Elvis laughed he stood up and pulled you with him, leaving enough time for you to kiss Francis goodnight before taking you with just a tug of his arm around your hip.

As you reached for the lamp next to your son’s bed your spoke softly,

“Get a good sleep Frannie”

Once you and Elvis were making your way out of the room he teased you softly with his hand still resting at your hip, “Wish ya would stop callin’ him such a girly name, his name’s Francis”

As soon as you closed the door you laughed softly and pointed out, “So he’s Francis when I call him Frannie but he’s not Francis when you call him Frankie?”

Elvis shrugged and popped out a “yup” as he guided you down the hall. Just before reaching the bedroom you told him you remembered you still had some dishes to do and made a B-line to the staircase to head toward the kitchen.

After getting down there and getting the dishes loaded you found yourself standing in front of the sink, staring down at the soapy dishwater with not a thought in mind.

It was Elvis’ voice that pulled you from your trance as he spoke, “Baby?”

You jumped slightly and turned around to see Elvis throwing you a confused half-smile, his red shirt from earlier was off and he was left in just black trousers and his wedding ring. There was a dampened towel on his shoulders, the tips of his hair were slightly wet, likely from having just washed his face.

You sighed softly with a smile at the sight, “I’ll be up in a minute Handsome, just getting some things done”.

Elvis’ neck stretched slightly as he saw the dishes were washed and now laid on the drying rack, he then turned toward the stove to see that the leftovers were put away. You didn’t have anything to do.

He took a few steps forward, till he could comfortably rest his hands at your hips.

“Looks to me like everythin’s been done, why don’tcha head upstairs with me?”

You took a moment to look around and realized he was right, quick on your feet you slid away from his hands and walked over to the oven and opened it, you gestured a hand toward the inside,

“I haven’t cleaned the oven out yet”

Elvis’ eyebrows furrowed as he shook head and mumbled with a hand on his hip,

“Honey, ya never clean the oven out till the 1st of the month, I mean unless things have changed that much since I’ve been at basic…”

You sighed softly. As you gently closed the oven door Elvis walked over to you with a small frown, his hands finding their place at your hips once again as he asked,

“What’s goin’ on Genevieve?”

You bit your lower lip softly, whenever Elvis called you by your name you knew he was serious, there was no wiggling your way out of it, especially now that he had you pressed back against a kitchen counter, his hands gripping your hips with resolution and a look in his eyes that told you he wasn’t letting you go without a fight.

With a shake of your head you looked away from Elvis, suddenly deeming the drying rack a few feet away to be a better view than your half-naked husband. Elvis’ head followed your gaze and suddenly it was him you were looking at again.

“I just, I wish you would stop doing that…”

Elvis looked confused as he ran a hand through his uncombed hair. He really looked different from a few months ago, his jaw was sharp and his cheeks sort of caved in, but not in the way a waif’s would. His hair was a crisp, fall-ish brown, and his body was cut in a way that felt a little foreign.

While he was naturally slim and tall, he was usually still soft and smooth around the edges. You’d realized his first night back from basic that his body was more sharp and angular, and you worried they weren’t feeding him properly. But as he’d been home a week or two now, his body remained sharp and cut, and now your worries were on your own lacking areas, you knew your food couldn’t replace his mama’s but you’d swear if his mama were here, he’d be back to his soft and squishy self.

“Stop doin’ what Hon?”

As your eyes lingered over his body more you’d completely forgotten what you’d first been talking about as you changed the subject by asking, “Are you still hungry?”

Elvis laughed softly and titled his head to the side, “What are ya talkin’ about?”

Your lower lip quivered in worry and concern, it seems all the dulled emotions you’d been feeling lately came together to overpower your own emotional maturity as your lip wobbled pathetically. As Elvis saw the sight his smile fell and his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he bent down slightly to look you head on. “Oh, Baby, now,” He cupped your cheeks with his hands to keep you from turning away from him.

There was a soft incredulous laugh that left his lips, “Why are ya cryin?”

As Elvis pulled you close to him, you could feel his body shake with each laugh that left his lips, you knew what he was thinking, it was what he always thought (and sometimes said) whenever you started crying, it was-

“You women and your emotions…”

And just as you would everytime, you’d hit his chest with all your might (which would only evoke another laugh at your pitiful effort) and mumble into his chest wetly, “Stop laughing at me Elvis Aaron Presley.”

“Alright, alright, I won’t laugh anymore Mama, now what was it you wish I would stop doin?”

Your arms around his waist tightened slightly as you thought back to the original topic of discussion. Elvis gave you a moment as he rubbed his chin along the top of your head, ruffling your hair in doing so, but you didn’t care enough to mind.

“I just wish you would stop pretending you’re this indestructible force Elvis.”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke,

“Well, I gotta make sure my son knows there ain’t a man better than his Daddy, ya know that Hon”

With a soft sigh you pulled back enough to look Elvis in the eye while your arms remained around his waist.

“I’m talking about with me, Elvis. You do that same thing with me that you do with Francis. You talk to me like I’m a child- Like, like I don’t know what you’re going into, like I haven’t been reading the papers”

Elvis’ smile flatlined as he listened to your words. You continued on.

“I’m your wife Elvis, I know that you’re not some indestructible being.”

As Elvis' eyes lingered away from yours, you placed a hand on his cheek to regain his attention as you could tell he was searching for ways to change the conversation.

“You’re just a man Elvis”

There’s his way out. Elvis bit his lower lip before breaking into a smile as he stared down at you. His hands that were wrapped around your waist fell down to each globe of your ass, giving you a soft squeeze through the fabric of your dress. The abruptness of the action caught your attention as your eyebrow lifted in suspicion and confusion at what he was doing.

Here you were pouring your heart out and he-

“Well, I can admit I am just a man, and a man’s got needs ya know?”

He had a boyish smile on his lips as he said the last part quietly, as if he were a child trying to tempt his mother into letting him get his favorite piece of candy. You knew how this would go, it would go as it always did. You and Elvis would avoid this topic and go on to avoid a few other topics, then in a few weeks or a month you and him would get into a huge argument of all the topics combined just to kiss and make up.

It’s happened often within your relationship, hell, you and him hadn’t fought the entirety of your pregnancy with Francis and on the day your water broke, all hell broke with it as you and Elvis got into a huge argument. You almost gave birth in the house because you refused to have him be the one to drive you to the hospital.

But that would be fine for now, especially when he smiled down at you the way he was now.

Your previous pure look of concern had washed away with a defeated smile as his hands continued to knead the flesh of your ass like dough and his smile only dug into his cheeks further, almost bringing back that full look of them.

With a fond tinge to it, you sighed out,

“You really are just a man”

He brought his nose down to nuzzle against your cheek before pressing his lips against the soft skin, murmuring, “Your man”

“Mhm, my man”

You began to giggle at the ticklish sensation of his lips dragging from your cheek down along the sensitive skin of your neck. You tried tucking your chin into your neck as you continued to let you squealed laughs.

Elvis let out a soft playful growl as he spoke into the skin,

“Flutterin’ around like a bird”

To stop your incessant wiggling Elvis tightened his arms around your waist, his nose changed locations from the crook of your neck to the dip of your collarbone till it landed in the deep neckline of your dress, snug between your breasts as he nuzzled himself into the skin, trying to get a whiff of you in your purest form.

The smell of you at the end of the day, the light scent of your perfume that somehow lingered late in the day mixed with whatever sweat had tried to grace your body, it was a smell he couldn’t get enough of.

His lips began to press gentle little kisses at the inside of both your breasts as he tugged at the neckline a bit more, trying to give himself more ground to cover with his lips. You laughed softly and buried your hands in his brown locks as you pressed numerous kisses atop his head.

You could hear him mumble where his head was buried between your breasts,

“Mm kiss me Baby…”

You laughed softly and between pecks on his forehead said, “That’s what I’m doin’”

He finally came up, his eyes lidded slightly as he murmured, “I mean really kiss me”, before kissing you with the same lips he just worshiped the skin of your tits with.

You hummed into the kiss with delighted surprise at the hungry tenderness of it all as Elvis’ body backed you completely against the kitchen counter. He felt around blindly for the counter behind you as he refused to break the kiss and then with two gentle pats to the back of your thighs you jumped up just slightly for him to pick you up by the thighs and push you onto the counter.

Elvis’ hands quickly worked the fabric of your dress, tugging it up till it pooled around your waist and as he pulled away from the kiss to look down between the two of you he was left with the sight of your legs, almost completely bare except for your seamed stockings that ended at your thighs and were held up by the garters connected to your panties.

His hands glided along the thin fabric of your stockings along your calves and thighs, he loved how they felt. You couldn’t help your smile as he admired you. When he stepped back he could pull one of your legs up nice and high so that he could see the seams on the back of your stockings that ran up your legs, giving the illusion that you had much longer legs than you really did.

All his focus was on that leg that he had stretched above your head, pointed to the heavens as he stared with admiration. You, his own point of interest, had betrayed him as your other lonely leg that dangled from the counter stretched forward to dig lightly at the bulge beginning to form in Elvis’ black trousers. Elvis’ brows creased and his eyes closed as his mouth opened to let out a low, heavy breath.

“Oh, Mama…”

Elvis’ grip that held your foot high had loosened at the undoing of his usually calm and collective nature within the act. “Mhm?” You took the opportunity and brought your other foot down to join in on the pushes and presses of your feet into the growing bulge.

He only repeated with a breathy, more defeated voice,

“Oh… Mama…”

His head fell back slightly and his legs looked to be going a little slack, knees bending in the slightest as his hips pushed into the pressure of your feet.

It was only when you attempted to dig your foot’s heel into Elvis’ groin did he make a move, spreading your legs apart and pushing his way between them with an eagerness. His hands were quick as he unclipped your garters, followed by the rough yanking of your stockings off your legs. You were thankful you had stabilized yourself onto the counter with your hands otherwise he might’ve yanked you off it right along with your stockings.

You figured you’d help him as you lifted your ass up and began to shimmy your panties off, having to bite your lip to keep back from whining at the cold slap of the counter against your thighs and warmed heat. As Elvis turned to look at you, his mouth was left slightly agape, he could never get used to the image of his wife being all pliant and pretty for him.

The men he used to work with as a young truck driver told him to never get married to a girl he liked, because when women became wives they lost their appeal, they became prudent and too good for casual sex with their husband. Oh how wrong those men were.

“Spread ‘em f’me Hon”

You obeyed as you watched Elvis kneel down, he had enough height on him to where even kneeling down he could easily be face to face with your bare cunt as you sat on the edge of the counter.

From below he made eye contact with you again and murmured,

“Spread those as well Baby”

You let out a breath at his words, feeling a heat spread from your chest up your neck from the embarrassment of where he was referring, but you’d listen. Your hand hesitantly danced down your body before landing at your cunt, and with a soft, wet sound, your pointer and index finger spread the lips of your pussy apart, giving way for Elvis to see the white discharge that was just edging out of your entrance, you had practically sprung a leak down there.

“You’re so pretty Baby…”

He looked up at you to make sure you knew it before steadying himself by gripping the sides of your thighs before pressing his head further between your legs. His aquiline nose ran along your core before anything else, but his tongue and lips were quick to follow as he licked a stripe up the center.

You let out a soft breathy moan at the feeling and tilted your head back to stare at the ceiling, the blank ceiling, boring enough for you to be able to focus entirely on the sensations Elvis was filling your body with.

As his tongue poked and prodded at your entrance you let out a cacophony of back-to-back breaths. As he moved his lips lower, his tongue now scraping along that gap of skin between both your holes, his nose was enveloped entirely by your entrance, and you could feel it inside of you.

Then his fingers on one hand reached toward that little nub of nerves that rested atop your pussy like a pretty bow, and like an expert he could easily undo that bow with the twists and turns of his index and middle finger.

That is what made you squirm and squeak, hushing out a high-pitched,

“Elvis..!”

His answer was a hungry hum which only pushed you even further as the low baritone of his hum reverberated in your pussy. “E-Elvis..!”

Your hands burrowed greedily into his hair as you contradicted yourself, while you made it seem like you wanted him off you, you only pushed his nose further and further into your entrance, you might suffocate him at this point. It was as if his life was in the hands of whether or not he could make you come.

You attempted to drive your hips further into his mouth as he pulled you closer with that hand still gripping your thigh.

As his fingers strummed your clit like the strings to a guitar your breathing got uneven as you felt the incoming of those waves of pleasure that only your very own husband could pull from you.

He groaned loudly into your heat as your grip on his hair became painful to the man bearing it, but he’d continue on till he got you to your release.

“Oh fuck Elvis..! I’m, I’m…”

Your hands entangled in his hair began to drive his head completely home as you let out a guttural moan, the pleased pitch cutting off as you’d reached the peak of your pleasure.

Your entire body felt limp, not even having enough strength in your hands to continue holding onto his hair. Elvis’ head remained tucked away long enough for your dress to fall over onto his head and hide him away as he finally pulled away for air.

You watched with tired eyes as his hands came up to pull the fabric off his head, he had the biggest lazy smile gracing his lips as he looked up at you, and for a moment you had a hard time deciphering whether or not the dampness on his face came from his sweat or your own pleasure, you settled on it being a mix.

“I make ya feel good Honey? Played with Mama just right, hm?”

He slowly stood up and brought the fabric of the dress up with him.

“You always do Elvis,”

He hummed with a smile and brought the wrung up fabric to your mouth with one hand and tugged your chin down with the other, leaving room for him to set the fabric between your lips for you to bite down on.

“Good, now, you’re gonna help Daddy feel good too now right? Gonna sit still f’me right?”

You hummed, “Mhm”, feeling eager to please the man after the trip he just sent you on. Elvis smiled down at you as he watched you hold the fabric between your teeth.

The fumbling of Elvis’ hands undoing his trousers was momentary as he’d become a bit of an expert at undoing his pants in the years you two have been married. You watched with blown out eyes as his dick shot up against his pubes and stomach as it was freed from the confines of Elvis’ pants and underwear.

Your legs were already spread and ready, your hole was already warmed up and loosened, you were his for the taking.

As Elvis took a step forward he tugged you just slightly closer to him before lining his uncut cock along your hole. Then he pushed in. His eyebrows creased from the pain of needing to be patient at this part, trying to find a good balance of needing to be watchful of your expression while wanting to watch as his foreskin begins to prematurely slide back before he’s even completely inside of your warm pussy.

“It’s goin’ in smooth Honey? N-no burn or anythin’ right Baby? I can keep goin’?”

You hummed out a quick, “Mhm”, with an eager nod of your head, and you could see the relief spread along his face at not needing to wait, because to be quite truthful he wasn’t sure he’d be able to.

Elvis kept a hand on his base as he guided the rest in and when he was fully in, his arms wrapped around your waist tightly, practically pulling you off the counter as he wanted to be as close to you as possible while he pressed kisses along your neck.

“Fuck Baby, feel so good,” He groaned softly as he pulled out slightly just to shove his way back in, eliciting a used squeak from you as he did so. “Think that I still haven’t broken ya in properly after bein’ at basic f’so long huh?”

You could only moan softly at his words as you kept the fabric of your dress clenched between your teeth. As he repeated a similar motion he mumbled into the skin of your neck,

“It’s alright Honey, we’ll make more room in there, make more room for a little one or two…”

You wiggled slightly only for his body to press impossibly closer as he spoke through gritted teeth, “Just need ya to sit” he pulled out just to harshly press back in, evoking a whimper from you, “still.”

Elvis’ thrusts became fuller and more drawn out with every second that passed and every moan that left your lips. He was a chatty lover, and while he liked to believe he was talking you through it all, it was really himself he was talking through the motions of sex. He had a strange anxiety when it came to sex that had only shown itself since his takeoff in the entertainment business.

“Gonna fill ya so full of me, gonna leave a piece of myself here to watch over ya Honey,”

Your noises continued to be muffled by the fabric that was becoming soaked in saliva from being kept in your mouth for so long.

The build-up of precum that had been filling your insides made for a wonderful lubricant, even better than your body’s natural one. Elvis’ hips continued to thrust roughly into you. As the speed doubled, even tripled, Elvis’ breaths and voice got raspy.

You were certain he’d bruised your cervix by now, but the desperate rasp of his voice left you as gooey as your insides were.

“Shit, this is it..!”

Elvis buried face into your neck and you felt the heat of his breath sprawl across your skin as he groaned throatily. The animalistic, rhythmic pace of his hips dying down to slow downward grinds. He slurred out as he came down from that peak of pleasure,

“So good… So fucking good…”

Finally as his body came to a rest you spit out the fabric and inhaled as much air as possible through your mouth.

As Elvis geared himself to pull out, your arms wrapped around his neck abruptly as you held him close, mumbling a soft, “Don’t.” as you did so.

Elvis’ body felt stiff for a moment as he asked with hushed concern,

“W-why? Did I hurt ya Hon? You know you’re supposed to tell-”

You stopped his sentence short with a quiet,

“No, you didn’t hurt me. Just, wanna be with you a little longer. You don’t mind do ya?”

Elvis let out a breath of relief to hear that. He’d never want to hurt you. So in that moment of silence he held you close and buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting his nose linger on that pulse point that he watched you apply perfume on every morning for the past 4 years.

And you carded your fingers through his hair, kissing the skin of his head as a form of apology for how rough you were with it earlier.

His voice was like honey, sweet and thick as he assured,

“Of course not. I wanna be with you all the time, otherwise I wouldn't have married ya”

You smiled and remarked into his hair,

"Smartass..."

To which he fondly mumbled,

"Cutie"

This was more a passion piece, just because I really wanted to write something involving those pictures, seriously he's such a dad.

The masterlist will be posted and linked as soon as I get up from my nap! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this au feel free to just comment or message me!!

Taglist Lovelies: @suraemoon, @drtyelvisfantasy, @mydarlingelvis, @astral-eyed-cat, @lialocklear, @obsessedvibee, @sexystarfish, @everythingelvispresley, @thebardotreincarnate, @prettyprissyblvd

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melminli · 9 months

Text

teachers pet - by melanie martinez

pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem. reader

summery - if i'm so special, why am i secret?

word count: 2k+

contains: student coryo (academy is basically a uni), teacher reader, age gap (coryo is in his early twenties while the reader is somewhere in her thirties), teacher x student relationships, dark themes, cheating (reader is married), mommy issues, manipulating, blackmailing

The life of a nerd didn't look as bad as it was portrayed in movies or books. However, it must be said that Coriolanus Snow had neither the stereotypical look nor behavior of a nerd, which may have been the reason why he was hardly treated like one. He had only the best, the good grades of a model student, the popularity of a popular student, and the good looks of a young man his age.

Cute girls queued up to get a chance with him since he seemed like a dream. In a world full of boys, he was a gentleman, a young man with a secure future. Some of his classmates would joke that he would be the future president of Panem, although they always had a slightly confident undertone while saying that. To be honest, no one would be surprised if he would be someday.

"Come on, Coriolanus! Let's go for a drink, you're never coming with us!" Complained the voice of some side character. "I'm sure you have a good chance with most of the girls in the bar - or boys. Whatever you like, I don't judge." He joked, and Clemensia hit him on the shoulder with her fist to warn him to take it down a notch.

She spoke in his place. "Leave him be. He's not into that sort of thing. I'm sure he'd rather spend his time doing more productive things." A slight grin stretched across her features. "Maybe you should try that sometime. Perhaps then you wouldn't fail half the subjects."

Festus interrupted the conversation as he walked past the group. "Come on, Clemmie. Leave the poor guy alone. We're students. It's normal to go partying every now and then." His eyes looked somewhat defiantly at Coriolanus. "You only live once. There's no need to waste it."

Alcoholics and drug addicts use the same excuse, stupid idiot. Coriolanus had enough of this whole interaction. It was time to wrap it up. "Of course, and everyone is free to live this life the way they want." He said with a falsely charming smile when he finally got a chance to speak. "I'm afraid I don't have much time either, I'm already in demand elsewhere."

Unfortunately for him, Arachne couldn't hold her tongue and had to carry on the conversation. "And so late on a Wednesday, too? Don't tell me our teacher's pet is in trouble. Has Mrs. Lola finally realized that you're just trying to get better grades with your flirting, and she doesn't actually have a chance with the pretty boy?" She joked as she mentioned the older woman who was getting closer to retirement with each passing year.

But her comment didn't make the intended person bitter, but Festus, who had to grit his teeth in annoyance. "Can't believe that shit works. I complimented her the other day, and she gave me a look like she was cursing me and the rest of my bloodline." He sighed. "I don't even want kids."

Coriolanus was getting impatient. If at least Sejanus was here, he could cover for him enough to leave, but no, they didn't share every damn course there was. He couldn't believe that this bothered him somehow. "No. Actually, I have asked to speak with Mrs. Rosey regarding her assigned homework." He announced, mentioning your name.

His pretty literature teacher. The only woman he wanted.

The eyes of the person who had started the whole thing in the first place lit up briefly. Coriolanus didn't bother to remember his name. "Oh, she's that one young teacher, isn't she?" He asked. The title wasn't really that hard to get since most of the teachers at the academy were dinosaurs. "She's pretty hot, I regret dropping literature man, but at the end of the day it's just an unnecessary course that requires extra work."

Okay, now Coriolanus was not only annoyed but also angry and had to stop himself from looking too passionate. "Right, see you tomorrow." He quickly said goodbye and paid no further attention to what the others were saying as he made his way to the teachers' lounge. He quickly fixed his tie and hair before knocking on the door. Fortunately, he didn't meet anyone else in the corridors who wasted his time unnecessarily. His patience was getting thin, and he didn't think he had enough of it to make him exchange more false smiles and words.

"Come in..." He heard your muffled voice call through the door before he slowly opened it, and his eyes immediately turned to your table. You, too, looked up from the papers in front of you and met his figure as you turned your chair to the side. "Mr. Snow, you said you had a question about the assignment I gave you."

There was a step between you two, but your voice still felt close. Maybe it was because you two were the only ones in the room since it was pretty late. Now that Coriolanus was looking down at your figure, you looked quite exhausted and seemed barely able to keep your eyes open. Judging by your desk, you were in the middle of correcting last week's quiz, but he doubted that was the only thing you were working on. Your usually well-groomed appearance was a little more disheveled. There were strands of hair peeking out from various places, and the first few buttons of your shirt were undone. "You never called me." Was all he said as he watched you avoid his gaze.

Your tongue licked over your dry lips as you searched for the right words. "I don't think that has anything to do with the assignment." You replied. Maybe my mistake was, hoping he had a question in the first place. "I'm not going to talk about other matters, I'm busy." You tried to explain to him.

Coriolanus laughed in disbelief. He placed his coat and bag on the chair next to him before leaning back against your table. "Oh, please. I can understand you wanting to keep our special time a secret, but don't try to deny it." He spat out, placing his hand on the papers to stop you from continuing to work on it. "Do you regret the things we shared, huh? Don't lie to me."

You met his gaze after you sighed. "Look, Mr. Snow. I'm sure you'll understand me when I tell you that you should rather concentrate on your studies, don't you think?"

His jaw tightened further as you continued to skillfully evade his questions. As if you didn't care at all, as if you didn't care about him. He was fully aware that what he was getting into was something short-term, but he still wouldn't allow you to throw him away as easily as trash. "Oh, so it's Mr. Snow now? What happened to Coryo."

You stood up so you could speak to him at eye level. Coriolanus has always been a bit more clingy with you. You expected no less, and yet it didn't make this whole procedure any less difficult. "Look, I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I'm married, and you know that." You tried to work through the situation. You grabbed his arms to comfort him with your touch. "There are so many young girls out there who want you. I'm so much older than you, and I'm also your teacher. From the beginning, this was something that wouldn't last."

He shook his head. "I don't care about them. It's you I want, please. Only you." He begged, and this time, he was the one who grabbed your arms to stop you from leaving, from leaving him. Coriolanus could see in your eyes how his desperation couldn't convince you, and he wished it would. Not only because he wanted to, but also so that he wouldn't have to resort to other methods, but you left him no other choice. "It would be a scandal if the whole thing came out, don't you think?"

You just sighed tiredly when he didn't let you go. "Sweetie..."

He softened a little at the pet name, but that didn't stop him. "No, you can't just use me until you're satisfied and then dispose of me. I will tell everyone and you know that as a teacher you will be in a position where people will accuse you of taking advantage of me." He explained as he pushed you between him and the desk while he watched the look of irritation on your face. His one hand came up to gently stroke your cheek, but his true intentions were visible through the strong grip on your arm. "And of course, you can try to tell the truth or try to defend yourself, but you know who they're more likely to believe."

He hadn't only pushed your body in a corner anymore. "So what? We're going to keep doing this until you're satisfied and let me go." You asked, seeing no long-lasting result.

That was your mistake. It hadn't been long since you'd been married, so Coriolanus was aware that you hadn't changed your surname. He liked that about you. He liked the sound of Rosey, and he too wanted to hold you like a little pretty rose in his grasp. "Yes. Except I won't let you go. Ever." he said with a slightly dreamy look.

You dared to disagree. "Mr. Snow - " you began, but changed your tone when you saw him grimace angrily and tighten his grip on your arm. " - Coryo, look. You're a smart boy, and yes, I enjoyed our time together, but it's not right that - "

" - I love you, and if it's wrong, then I don't want to be right. Why can't you understand that already? I know I'm young, but I'm not naive, so don't talk to me like I am." He spat out in annoyance and finally reached the end of his patience. His eyes glanced briefly next to you at the table where the sheets of paper were now messely scattered around. It seemed you were in the process of correcting his. how convenient. his hand grabbed it and held it in front of you. "Let's play a little game. If I pass this quiz, you'll give me something I want."

Your eyes didn't move from his. You knew you had to play along whether you wanted to or not, and you didn't seem to get far with values and morals. You doubted you would do it at all with him. "And what do you want?" You asked him simply.

He leaned closer to you. "A kiss."

You met his eyes and took the paper from his hand without even glancing at it. "You passed." You confirmed and pulled him into a soft kiss.

This is how he liked you. When you touched him tenderly like now and stroked his hair lovingly. Coriolanus only felt like this with you. Do you think he wouldn't have tried to get away from you? He did, first with several girls who just wanted him to give and give and he hated that they just took from him and thought it was enough if they just stood pretty next to him or leaned back and spread their legs. Hated them, and so he tried women who were older than him and then women who had the same color eyes as you, some who smiled like you and then some whose voice was similar to yours. He liked those the most because with them, he could just close his eyes and imagine it was you.

Then he finally got tired of just imagining it, and once he had a taste of what might be, there was no going back to his old ways.

"I love you." He finally said as you ended the kiss and he leaned his forehead against yours while his hands wrapped around yours. "Don't ever think about leaving me again and don't make me out to be crazy for wanting you."

What am I supposed to do with you, little snowflake, now that you don't melt away? "All right, Coryo, I won't." You just replied and saw no point in arguing with him anymore. You knew him well enough to know how possessive and dominant he could get. However, you liked him more when he was dependent on you and sought your approval. "But be good and a little nicer to me, will you?" You said and squeezed his hands. "Because if I wanted some stupid man who was full of himself, I'd go to my husband."

He nodded quickly, giving in easily now that it was clear that he had you. "Of course, anything you want. I'll do anything you want." He spoke and took your hand in his up to place a kiss on it. "All you have to do is ask for it."

Coriolanus would take care of your useless husband. You wouldn't need him when you were going to marry him soon.

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

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Angels' Commendation MICHAEL x gn!Reader x SIMEON 3.2k Words | NSFW | Smut | Michael-centric | Poly Relationship Content Warnings: Reader uses gn!pronouns. Alternating present/memory POV. Pet name used (little lamb). Penetrative sex, threesome, creampies, implied overstimulation, scenting/marking, fluff, flirting, teasing, food kink if you squint, sex in a semi-public place, jealousy, light dom/sub undertones. Prev: Angels at the Door | Next: A Demon's Curiosity

Your departure from the Celestial Realm is met with little fanfare. Michael offered to host a formal celebration like a banquet or dance, but you balked at the very idea and insisted nothing of the sort was necessary. You finished most of your preparations yesterday and already said goodbye to the angels you spent the most time with. They gave you their well wishes for your journey home and their hopes that you would return again soon.

When you came to the Celestial Realm nearly a month ago, you brought a single bag with some clothing and toiletries. Today, you’re leaving with much more than you brought. There are small tokens from your new angel friends in some spare bags that Simeon procured for you. Michael also gave you a large basket full of gifts for Diavolo and his fallen brothers in the Devildom.

Luke baked a cake for you to take back to share with everyone, and it’s carefully wrapped in a large box. He giggled and whispered that he also made a special cupcake just for you, in case Beel eats the other cake before you can have some.

Simeon helps you organize your belongings near the Celestial Gates that will take you back to the Devildom. If Luke weren't nearby, he'd drag you into one last kiss before you go; he could lick his lips and savour the taste of you when you're gone.

He glances over where Michael and Luke are waiting. You haven't even left yet, and Luke is already asking him when you'll be able to return. Simeon and Michael share a knowing look; your presence will be formally requested before too long, whether your demon friends like it or not.

Simeon slides the straps of your bags onto your shoulders, and he steps away once you reassure him that everything feels secure. Luke smiles when you hold up his cake box, and you wiggle your fingers at him since you can’t wave goodbye properly. You share one last fleeting glance with Luke–and your lovers–before you finally walk through the portal and back to the Devildom.

Once you’re gone, the three angels turn and walk back towards the Celestial Halls together. "Did you give them a present, Michael?" Luke asks curiously.

He already asked Simeon earlier what his gift for you was. Simeon replied that he gave you a short story he wrote himself. (It was a smutty romance about three characters that resembled you and your two angels, of course).

Michael looks down and his lips quirk into a smile. He ruffles Luke's hair playfully and chuckles when the young angel pouts. "Ah, we exchanged parting gifts earlier before we joined you for breakfast."

You groaned at the sudden emptiness when Michael withdrew his cock from your body. He chuckled against your shoulder as two of his thick fingers took its place. The sounds his fingers made as he thrust them inside you was obscene. His and Simeon's cum both leaked out around the intruding digits and smeared the inside of your thighs.

"Don't worry little lamb, we'll keep you nice and full. You want something to remember us by, don't you?"

You nodded dazedly as endless sensations rippled through you. Your body twitched and trembled from their attention. Simeon was plastered against your front, his hands gripping your hips while he chased beads of sweat down your chest with his tongue. He dragged his teeth over your skin and sucked each of your nipples between his lips. He glanced at you through his dark lashes when you whined and arched into his touch.

Michael's chest was a comforting weight against your back, and you leaned against him to keep yourself upright. One of his hands moved inside you, and the other trailed along the side of your face and down your neck. He pressed down gently when he grazed over the marks he and Simeon made. He tilted your chin towards him and kissed you over your shoulder. It was wet and sloppy, and you moaned when his tongue flicked teasingly into your mouth.

Your skin was sticky with sweat and cum. Your legs trembled and you felt overheated, but you still wanted more. You reached back and fisted one hand in Michael's hair while the other reached down and grasped Simeon's hard, leaking cock that bobbed heavily between you. Michael hissed when you pulled on his hair; Simeon groaned when you pumped him lazily, and his hips bucked against you.

"What do you want, my love?" Simeon whispered when he leaned forward and tugged at your earlobe with his teeth.

It was hard to form words when they worked so diligently together to fuck your brains out. Your mind was a fog of pleasure and longing. You know you were leaving soon, but you didn't go. You wanted–

"M-more," you whimpered. "Want more of you, please?"

Michael crooked his greedy fingers inside you, and you rocked your hips so that they'd keep massaging against that spot that made your toes curl. You shuddered between them, and Michael brushed his lips against your temple.

"You ask so nicely," he murmured. He rubbed his cock against your ass; he was already hard and leaking again. He knew you were all running out of time, but he couldn’t refuse you. "We'll give you what you whatever you want."

Simeon's cock slipped from your grip when he maneuvered himself in front of you. He laid back against the pillows. One of his legs was between yours, and the other was bent at the knee and pressed against your outer thigh to support you. Michael nudged your shoulders down and bent you over until your chest was pressed against Simeon's. He groped your ass and positioned himself behind you.

Simeon cradled the back of your neck and brought you towards him for a heated kiss. Michael leaned over you and kissed along your spine just as he sank his cock back inside you. All three of you groaned in unison, overwhelmed by the sensual depravity of being together like this. Simeon was jerking himself off beneath you and panting your name desperately as he watched your expressions above him. You closed your eyes and lost yourself in the heated daze of their lust as Michael fucked you one last time.

When you arrive at the Demon Lord’s castle, all of your demon friends are waiting anxiously to see you. Barbatos instructs the Little Ds to help you with your belongings and you hand him Luke’s cake for safekeeping. As soon as your hands are free, you're crowded by the seven demon brothers that clamor for your attention like they haven't seen you in years.

There's a small luncheon prepared to celebrate your return, and the demons lead you to the elegant dining room where you can finally relax. Asmo plunks down in the seat next to yours and admires the Celestial Realm tunic you're wearing.

"That style looks nice on you," he offers, and there's something soft in his gaze as he remembers how much he liked wearing angelic-style garments too.

"Michael provided me with a lot of Celestial clothes to try while I was there," you explain with a smile, looking down as you smooth the front of your shirt. "I left most of them behind for the next time I visit, but I wanted to bring this one back with me–it's my favourite."

You noticed that Michael was acting strangely since you stepped into the dining room for breakfast. Raphael and Gabriel bickered on either side of you while Simeon rolled his eyes at them across the table. You tried to focus on your plate, but you could feel the heavy weight of Michael's gaze lingering on you.

"Is there something wrong?" you asked him after breakfast when you were able to speak to him alone.

His gaze flickered between your eyes and your chest. "That outfit you're wearing–" he started to say, but he faltered and cleared his throat, "–that was what you were wearing in the garden that day with Simeon."

Michael told you how he found you together in his garden by accident, and you still feel a little embarrassed thinking about it. Your cheeks grew warm, and you looked down at your top nervously. "Oh...do you not like it, or–?"

Michael shook his head quickly. "No, it's not that. It's...well, it reminds me of the day I realized I had feelings for you." He looked away and it was suddenly his turn to be bashful. "And it reminds me of how much desire I have for you."

He glanced around before he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. "Perhaps you'd like to accompany me to the garden? I have a bit of spare time before I’m needed for my next meeting," he murmured against the shell of your ear. You felt his cock hardening against your hip and you gasped softly.

"Wait, what about Simeon?" you asked, but you realized you didn’t need to worry. Michael was already sending him a message, and he slipped his phone back into his robes when he finished.

"He's going to meet us there." Michael held out his arm to you, and you followed him towards the closest exit leading to the gardens outside.

Lunch at the Demon Lord’s castle is a boisterous affair. Everyone chatters excitedly about your return, and Lucifer mentions off-handedly that it's nice to have tolerable company again.

Diavolo asks for your impressions of Michael after living together these past few weeks, and you nearly choke on your drink. You clear your throat and tell him that Michael was very kind and generous to you. Diavolo nods approvingly, and he mentions the basket of gifts Michael sent back with you. You didn't look at it that closely, but according to Lucifer, they're all exquisite delicacies from the Celestial Realm.

You're not surprised when Diavolo mentions that Michael also enclosed a letter for him as well. Apparently the Archangel thanked the Devildom for allowing them the honour of your company. He finished the letter stating that the angels of the Celestial Realm eagerly await your next visit.

"I don't think we could've asked for a better result," Diavolo exclaims, and Lucifer begrudgingly agrees.

Conversation lingers on your trip and what it was like living among the angels. It's hard to keep a straight face when Michael or Simeon's names are mentioned throughout the meal. There's still a dull throb between your legs from this morning, and the biting marks they left on your skin are tender underneath your clothes.

When the lunch dishes are cleared away, Barbatos starts slicing Luke's cake for everyone. (He murmurs quietly that he's impressed with the young angel's creation, and you remind yourself to pass along the message to him later.)

Diavolo claps his hands when Barbatos places a generous slice in front of him. "Luke made this? How delightful!" He grins at you from his seat at the head of the table. "Is Michael's sweet tooth as notorious as Lucifer claims?"

Lucifer glares at Diavolo but the prince ignores him. You bite your lip and nod as Barbatos comes to your side and puts a slice of cake in front of you. "It is. This particular cake happens to be Michael's favourite."

"Knock-knock," you said teasingly when you pushed open the door to Michael's office. The Archangel was leaning back in his chair, running a hand through his hair while he frowned at the document in his hand. He glanced at you when you stepped inside and closed the door behind you.

"I still have more work to take care of tonight, little lamb," he offered apologetically, but you grinned when his eyes lingered on the plate in your hand.

"Can I tempt you to take a short break? You've been here since dinnertime." You brought a slice of cake from the kitchen with you. It's unusual for Michael to rush away from the table before dessert, but he claimed an urgent matter from another part of the realm needed his attention.

It's possible you missed him and wanted an excuse to see him, but you left that feeling unsaid between you.

He looked torn, and you went in for the final blow. "And I thought Lucifer had the worst work-life balance of anyone I ever met."

That certainly got his attention; he put his papers aside and waved you over. "Realms forbid I let him be better than me at something, especially when it means passing up a chance to visit with you."

You offered Michael the plate, but he took it from you and set it on his desk. You made an undignified yelping noise when he suddenly grabbed you by the waist and pulled you onto his lap.

When you regained your balance, you were straddling his thighs. He leaned back in his seat and licked his lips. "Since my little lamb interrupted my very important work, I think it's only fair that they feed me. What do you think?"

You couldn't help the bashful smile that bloomed across your face, and his eyes darkened when you picked up the plate and offered him a forkful of the fluffy vanilla cake he loves so much.

"Did you have some cake already?" he asked you in a rough voice after you fed him a couple small bites.

You nod–you ate dessert with Simeon and the others in the dining room. But there's a smear of whipped cream clinging to the corner of Michael's mouth, and you feel inspired. "I wouldn't mind a little more," you murmured as you inched forward and swiped your tongue across his lips. You leaned back and smacked your lips with a satisfied hum.

You had just enough time to put the plate back on the desk before Michael surged forward and kissed you. He licked into your mouth and groaned deep in his chest as he chased the sugar-sweet taste on your tongue.

Beel sits across the table from you, and even after he's had two slices of cake, he's still drooling and looking for more. Satan grasps his shoulder when he tries to stand up and reach for the remaining half-a-cake. Barbatos winks at you when he slides the cake further away from him, and Beel gives up and slumps back in his seat.

Satan grumbles complaints about his brother when you finally catch his gaze. "I was able to borrow the book about Celestial Blessings you wanted to read," you mention to him between bites of your dessert. "It's packed in one of my bags. I'll give it to you when we go back to the House of Lamentation."

He looks genuinely shocked and leans forward on his elbows with excitement. "Really?" He glances down the table where Lucifer and Diavolo are having a heated discussion about something before he looks at you again. "I thought it was in the restricted section of their library?" he asks quietly.

You shrug and look down at your plate as you slice off another forkful of cake. Your cheeks feel a little warm. "Michael gave me permission to borrow it, as long as I bring it back the next time I visit."

The restricted section of the Celestial Library is dimly lit and eerily quiet—or it would be, except for the soft, slapping sounds of skin-on-skin as Michael fucked you against one of the shelves. Your pants were pooled around your ankles, and his wings brushed against you every time he snapped his hips forward. You gripped the shelf in front of you for leverage and rolled your hips back in time with his thrusts.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you panted between shaky moans. “Simeon said your permission wasn’t necessary for—oh, fuck,” you whimpered when his cock dragged along your walls just right.

He huffed and slowed his movements, grinding lazily against you and denying you the delicious friction he knew you craved. “And you thought asking that flirt of a records-keeper was a better idea, hm?” He leaned forward and scraped his teeth along your jaw and licked at your neck.

When you tilted your head to give him more access, he hummed and sucked a mark into the delicate skin below your ear. The hand that wasn’t fisted in the collar of your shirt snaked down your front and stroked at the arousal between your legs. You sighed and undulated your hips to coax his fingers where you wanted them most.

“If I—if I knew you’d react like this, I would’ve visited Metatron sooner,” you teased, your tongue loosened by pleasure from his sinful ministrations.

Michael’s chest rumbled behind you, and he suddenly leaned back and pulled you flush against him. “You play with fire, my little lamb,” he snarled into your ear. “Open your mouth.”

You whimpered and obeyed him—how could you not when the gravely tone of his voice made arousal simmer deep inside you? When your mouth fell open, he slipped two fingers inside and pressed down on your tongue. You closed your lips and sucked—you moaned when your tasted your own arousal.

“Very good,” he whispered in your ear, "you're so perfect for me." He kissed your temple and starting fucking into you, faster and harder than before. His fingers smothered your cries and you closed your eyes as pleasure rolled through you. You tilted your head back against his shoulder as he moved your body to meet his thrusts.

His rhythm became erratic as he pushed you both towards release, and he groaned when he felt your body clench around his cock. “That’s it, give yourself to me. I’ve got you, little lamb. I’ve got you.”

After a festive but exhausting lunch at Diavolo's castle, you walk back to the House of Lamentation with Lucifer and his brothers. They help carry your bags and even though some of them complain, you know they're all happy to see you again. You’re nestled between the group of them and you realize you genuinely missed them too.

You’re grateful that your room is how you left it, albeit with slightly more dust than before. The brothers scatter once you've given them souvenirs from your trip and you finally have some time to yourself. You’re about to start unpacking when there's a quiet knock on your door; when you turn around, you smile at Asmo who’s leaning against the door frame.

"Oh, hi!” You greet him with a beaming smile. “I brought something for you from the apothecary, but I can't remember which bag it's in. Come in for a sec while I look, okay?" Your bags are piled on your bed, and you unzip them one at a time to find the little basket of body care you brought back for him.

"No rush," he says airily as he closes your door and plops down in the chair at your desk. "There was something I forgot to ask you earlier, anyway."

You rummage through your bags. "Oh? What's that?" You glance at him over your shoulder. He waits until you look at him, and he sniffs the air deliberately. Your anxiety spikes, and you instinctively clench your thighs together. You nearly forgot about the damp spot in your underwear, the traces of your lovers' last gift to you.

Asmo's lips curl into a teasing smirk. "So, how long have you been fucking Michael?"

#series: the edge of heaven #obey me michael #obey me simeon #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me michael x reader #obey me simeon x reader #michael x reader #simeon x reader #obey me michael smut #simeon smut #obey me smut #omswd smut #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #x reader #gn!reader

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brimbrimbrimbrim · 1 year

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The Bear and The Baker: Chapter Five - REPEAT (NSFW)

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five

Summary: She’s relatable and willing to help him figure out how to stop spiraling down a dark hole of anxiety, but she’s pretty and sweet and knows what to say and do… and Carmy just can’t help himself.

(big thanks to @novemberbluesky for beta reading this last chapter <3)

Tags: friends to lovers, UST, RST, pining, wet dreams, masturbation, lots of food talk, reader used to be a pastry chef, mental health, panic attacks, anxiety, meditation, oral sex, cunnilingus, premature ejaculation, handjob, desk sex, first times, virginity, mild dom/sub undertones, kitchen sex, love confessions, blowjobs

Words: 4k

TW: panic attacks

"Christ-" you whine, digging one hand into Carmy's greasy curls on the crown of his head, the other gripping the edge of his desk as his tongue swirls around your areola. Short, sandpaper stubble abrades the bottom swell of your breast as his face presses in, lips open and cheeks caving against your nipple. It's agonizingly good. Each suck and insulated lick's all gummy, sweet, and marvelous like he's molding burnt sugar with his tongue or… or something like that…

It's a little difficult to think when you're tipped backward, seesawing in Carmy's lap, lower spine against the desk's edge, trembling beneath his hungry attention that switches aimlessly between both bare breasts. Somewhere on the floor lays your bra and maybe your sweater… soon to be home to the rest of your clothes because if Carmen Berzatto doesn't fuck you in the next ten minutes, you're gonna do it for him.

"Carmy," you hiss, lashes tangled shut and fingers yanking at his scalp, "... teeth. T-too sensitive."

He pulls away with a moist pop. His upper lip hooked over your swollen nipple, throbbing from a single overzealous bite.

"Sorry," he swallows, slick lips worrying over the tender bud, "… sorry, baby."

His hot breath fans away the ache, and a wet kiss to the peak dribbles dolce pleasure down your belly, straight between your thighs. Beneath you—against your pelvis—his cock is a dense rod that fogs your senses.

It's a thicker feeling than it had been even in your mouth.

Carmy isn't small… which, to be honest, surprised you slightly at first. You've never had anything larger than average, and his approach to flirting and intimacy didn't warn you of anything daunting… though, over the years working in the service industry, food and further niche pockets of upper-class culinary gave you an appreciation for how wrong first impressions could be, as well as a few ulcers and a pesky panic disorder…

Carmy stretches his fingers against your naked spine and presses his hips forward, thighs up, forcing you further into his lap, harder against his sucking lips and branding erection.

"F-fuck," you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut, every draw of his lips sending a throb through your middle.

While a little bit of that time-old anxiety resides in your chest as Carmy kisses and licks all across it, the thrill of something a little scary and unknown is, for once, exciting and not terrifying. But, you grow itchy with each reverent caress Carmy bestows upon your breasts; sweet pecks over their tops, beneath the swell of curvy fat, sweeps of hot tongue across your nipples. He closes his lips around the left to suck it like he had the right, adding moisture to the oven broil that is his mouth. It's slow and lazy, not hurried at all, which only builds up the layers of anticipation until you're rocking against his cock, moaning as he moans… and tugging his hair by the roots, whining as he sucks even harder… those teeth returning in delicate nips. More pleasure oozes through you, dense as caramel toffee, and-

"Taste," he murmurs into your nipple, "so…" an easy bite, "excellent."

Carmy's palm slides across your ribs, then sweep the expanse of smooth skin to your other breast, holding its weight with prickly super glued cuts and fabric bandages. His fingers dent, and a thumb flicks your saliva-slick nipple while the other receives a slash of the tongue.

"Do you-" you swallow a strained noise and gasp, "Do you want to… fuck me now? W-want you to cum inside me this time."

"Already did…" he murmurs, thumbing your lip with care.

You laugh deliriously, ending the sound with a sigh as Carmy returns to his sweet abuse on your nipples.

"You know what I mn-mean…." you whimper, fisting the desk's edge a little harder as your fingers release his messy hair to move between your bodies, groping blindly until your thumb bumps across the slippery tip of Carmy's cock, quickly grasping its hot girth for an awkwardly angled stroke, "You're already hard again…"

Carmy's lips slacken, moaning hot over well-loved nerves.

"I want it—want you to fuck me with it this time."

"Ffffuck. Fuck-"Silenced by a squeeze to his dick, you only get a string of stutters as a warning before Carmy picks you up, urging your legs to wrap around his waist before he starts sweeping everything off the surface of his desk.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

A part of his brain is sullen over the mess of paper he's just swept to the floor. An empty plastic pint container clicks to the tile; some Sharpies and that mug that says 'How about a cup of shut the fuck up' goes to the floor too, shattering. Carmy pays it no more time than it takes him to give his desk another wide sweep, sending his calendar desktop flopping to his feet as he hauls her up on the edge. The old metal creaks, but the sound is swallowed by an ambrosial moan, dripping with a vanilla glaze as it smothers her lips with his. She still has a lick of brine deep inside from his orgasm, a realization that sends a shiver down his spine—a pulse to his cock.

Her teeth pinch his lower lip, and Carmy shudders anew, hips rocking up to press his dick against the seam of her jeans. She's wearing too much—too many layers between his bare dick and her heated core.

"Your mug-"she starts, lips sliding off his for a second to glance at the floor, but he's pinching her chin between his fingers and drawing her mouth back to his, eyes off the stupid fucking mess and back to him. A whimper. Another wet kiss, then a bite to his lip, the upper one this time, and Carmy's fingers smooth around her hips, shoving his thumbs in between denim and warm, soft skin.

"Take 'em," a kiss and lick and, "off," then another, deeper slant against his mouth has Carmy trembling with desire. Same shakes he gets on the line when everything's fucked, but nothing about this makes him want to hide in the lock-in and heave through panic and palpitations. Everything about this, right here… it's good—great—and he's gonna do his best to make her feel the same. Replace all that shit about beating hearts signaling their ends and all about it triggering the start of everything .

"Now," she nips his lip hard enough to snap him into motion.

"Shit," he curses, ripping his swollen mouth away to plant wet kisses across her cheek, down her neck, fumbling with the button beneath her navel. A creeping ache of anxiety fills his throat as his heart pounds rhythmically in his chest, worried he's gonna need help to undress her—worried he's gonna fuck this up, but then he gets lucky as the front clasp comes free, and her zipper slides down easy. Her bottom lifts and Carmy shoves four fingers under denim and cotton, gripping hard and yanking it down her ass and thighs off her calves and ankles. Shoes and socks hit the floor, and ankles return to lock around his bare ass, drawing him and his throbbing dick against the softest, wettest promise he's ever been given.

It doesn't even register that she's pulling his shirt up his stomach until she gives his chin a peck and asks him to take it off. 'Please, Carmy… wanna see you.' And he's tugging it over his head, sweaty curls falling over his forehead, more exposed than he's ever been… with anyone…

She kisses him over his pounding heart just above the triangle of ink from his youth. The act causes a palpitation, and a swoop in his stomach, watching her lean back against the desk, spread open and smiling.

"Fuck," Carmy puffs out, taking in the contours of softness—the peaks and sweat-shined skin perfectly imperfect and deliciously real. That decadent swell of emotion sticks in his throat; it's the same one he felt back when he finally felt like he had a purpose, standing in his toque blanche while the Chef de Cuisine praised his braciole. But it's better now. Refined. Pure.

"Don't keep me waiting," she's smiling, awkwardly sensual, but a beckoning finger above her glistening folds makes his cock bounce. Her gaze drops, staring at it, and Carmy's eyes follow, widening as her heels drag him in, pressed flush—wet and hot.

Carmy whimpers, licking his lips at the golden-lit sheen of his cock pinned to his stomach by her pussy—the unflagging mass denting her soft mons… dripping precum down between them where it catches the light and the little, stiff bud of her fleshy clit, snug and engorged against a winding vein hugging his shaft. He swallows, holds her hips in both hands, and looks back up, finding her lazy, smiling eyes and hot cheeks.

"You're sure?" He asks, needing reassurance.

"Very sure.” She smiles until her eyes crinkle, and then gives him a kiss as soft as hand-beaten whipped cream, and Carmy smiles back.

They both shift, her fist wrapping warmly around his shaft, wetting his dick by rubbing his leaky head through her folds. Carmy presses his hips forward when it pops across her clit and grinds a little… just a bit until she's making circles with his cockhead over the tender bud. Carmy could easily cum like this… try as he might, this won't last long, and that's no more apparent than right now… right as she slips his dick down and deep, pulling him in by the heels in his ass. He steps forward, wraps his arms around her, and moans into her mouth.

And Jesus Christ… this isn't just popping his cherry, but emulsifying it into rich, hot syrup, sticky and sweet. The feeling that punctures his spine as Carmy gives in and thrusts, bottoming out with a great, shaky exhale, is without definition… just sensation without a name…

"God," he wheezes into her mouth, trying to kiss her through the steady pulsing around his cock—the whooshing of blood in his ears—the exceptional everything he finds buried inside her for the first time.

First, of many times, he hopes, almost prays.

"Carmy…" she moans, and he can feel the impatience, another decadent whimper translating into 'move' and 'move fast and fucking hard' so he grabs onto her back and shoulder—arms almost crossed behind her—and dents his fingers in before smacking his hips at a relentless depth.

She yelps and digs her nails into his scalp. It stings, much like when he was eating her out in his kitchen, and that had been good… she loved that, so Carmy figures 'to hell with it' and picks up the pace, pounding her soaked pussy until she's hiccuping against his lips, whining and groaning and…

… and pushing against his chest, telling him to 'hold on' and 'take it easy' and 'stop…'

"What-what'd I do?" For a second, he gets that flutter in his chest, but not butterflies, just a pause and thick beat that throws cold water down his spine. Did he fuck it up already?

"You okay??"

" Uh-huh, just— fuck , Carmy."

He stills, carding his fingers through her hair, musing her hot cheeks, trying to get a good look at the damage: watery eyes, a pained creased between her brows, pouty… moist lips so kissable and raw it makes him wanna do anything, and everything to make them curl into a smile.

"… did I… hurt you or— shit, what'd I do? "

"Cool your jets, Chef," and there is a shaky smile, but something else, "G-give me a second… slower—slow down a little. Please... "

He swallows the sudden urge to ignore everything she's just asked and just… fuck her until the desk dents the wall—until he's stuffing cum inside her like some selfish asshole, but Carmy takes a deep breath against her lips and leans in to kiss her sweaty neck. Acidic brine and umami hit his tongue; it's sex and something even better.

Gradually, the urge to rail her passes, and he just listens, basking in the slick vice wrapped around him. After a few long, drawn-out seconds, her fingers tug at the damp curls on his nape.

"O-okay. Keep going," she sighs, "… just not so rough. Just… just for now."

Carmy nods. Yeah, he can do slow and steady. It's all about patience; he's got that; he just needs to use it for this and not only for stirring jalapeno jelly for six hours straight. Ever so gently, his hips begin to rock slowly and shallowly. Just four or so inches, just a little over half his length, rubbing the delicate outer ring of her pussy.

"So good," he pants, "… so tight. How— fuck —how much longer?" Carmy doesn't wanna sound too eager or presumptuous, all traits he despises in himself and others, but… fuck… so good. His thrusts start going choppy as she shudders against him.

“I mean… is this…” Carmy gulps and tries to word that last bit better, "Is this okay?"

"Little more… you're, uh , a little too… big… and girthy."

Carmy halts with the swollen bulb of his cockhead held thickly inside her as a rush swoops into his balls, pulling them taut to his body, ready to burst. He blinks lazily against the crook of her neck, heart hammering, so fucking close to losing it. A bead of sweat runs from his hairline to the edge of his nose as his joints lock, fending off the rip of a climax by replaying whispered verbal abuse from CDCs in his ear…

'You're worthless.'

"Cah-Carmy?"

'Say you're scum. Tell me you're nothing. You deserve to be dead.'

"… you're okay," she says against his temple, planting a kiss over beads of sweat while his cock twitches meanly. He's okay. He's got this… like everything else, Carmy can white knuckle his way through it. And, after a few breaths, the edging of his orgasm fades away.

"Yeah," Carmy almost chuckles, almost cries, but her palms flatten across his bare back, fingers eroding stoney knots of anxiety with gentle rubbing motions of love and heat. With a nasal sigh, Carmy lets go of the trauma and the expectations and kisses her thrumming pulse point beneath her ear.

"Almost came," he admits, muffled against her throat as he noses her clammy skin. It's so fucking hot in his office—that his mind briefly lands on installing a fan when and if this happens again.

"... hey," she whispers, squeezing him in a tight embrace, "if you cum, you cum. It's more than okay."

He licks his lips and rubs his damp forehead over her collarbone. He can see down her body, between her heaving breasts, at his glistening cock held halfway inside her. No, he's not ready to cum just yet…

With a swallow that clicks in the tiny room, Carmy starts to move in and out of her slick pussy. No more than the first three inches delves through her gummy, vice-like heat. She's so much tighter than he remembers from finger fucking her on his kitchen counter—so much sweeter and mind-melting.

"... ffffuck ," he sighs, "I wanna… gonna make you cum, baby." And again, she makes him want more than good food, sanity, and loneliness. He wants to make her feel good. So… so fucking good. So Carmy slows his roll even more, leaving behind shallow and rhythmic for lethargic and deep. It's almost worse—better—this way since he can feel everything. Each inner ridge plump around his dick, contouring to his girth… sucking him in until his tip is lodged against her cervix.

Carmy gasps as her pussy flutters around him. Her breath sweats across his hairline.

"... like that," she sighs, clinging to him with hands, thighs, and softness.

"Right. Good… just," Carmy nods, swallowing, "tell me if—fuck—if you…"

She shushes him softly and rubs down his spine, "Just like this, baby."

He nods again and kisses her pulse, running wet lips up with each slow drag of cock, finding her slack mouth with a great, heavy swell of heat that spreads from his chest out into the very tips of his fingers, toes, and outward. She's a full-body sensation, and while Carmy's never been a sommelier—not even close—he thinks this is what they mean by rounded. Perfect notes that end in words like ambrosia, mellow and rich. Carmy breathes her in with a hard thrust that's still achingly slow, feeling everything.

Her breathing grows ragged, puffing against his lips between wet kisses, her mouth hanging open on a moan so sweet his stomach tightens, and a bolt of pleasure tugs his balls.

"... god damnit. Hah-hang on," Carmy grunts, grabbing the upper heft of her ass, trying to still the gentle rocking of her lower body as he fights off another urge to cum. She giggles—a din of noise like cooling glass candy—but it's not mean; it's breathless and awe-struck. He knows 'cause that's how his laugh sounds when she pinches the meat of his own ass, filling his office with heavy, happy breaths and her hot whispers of 'cum inside me, baby… I know you want to.'

"You're mean, you know," he pants out, smirking with loose lips when she hums in agreement, squeezing the tight muscles in his back as he shifts on his feet.

He wants to cum, and he will, but it's the same devotion that got him Chef of the Year, which makes him hold off, wanting to prove he can make her feel the same bliss she brings him. There's always his tongue, he thinks, almost giving into that primal urge, but this is different. Carmy wants to feel her cum around his dick, so he sucks down his pounding heart, stabilizes his feet shoulder-width apart, his posture precise, then swiftly pulls her to the edge of the desk, hands sweeping to the backs of her thighs with a squeeze. He tilts her beneath the cabinets spilling with unfiled paperwork, knees up against her glistening breasts, and fucks forward.

" Haaah-ah… fuck, " her fist grips the desk's edge, the other shoved flat under the cabinetry, "D-do that again," she hisses, then softer… sweeter, begs, "... please."

Carmy does it again, just as hard and swift, getting a sound out of her that's pornographic. He does it three more times, just until he feels her thighs trembling in his palms, then lets his cock slip completely out.

"Wha… what are you-"

He grabs his wet dick and smears the head through her folds, nudging the plump bulb of her clit, ignoring how good it feels to tap and rub it with his plush cockhead, focusing instead on the quiet puffing moans… the way her hips grind forward, swirling herself against the raw contact.

"Jesus Christ, Carmy. If you… keep doing that," she pauses to whimper, "I'm gonna cum."

"I'm gonna make you—fuck—gonna fuck you until your too fuckin' weak to walk out of here," he promises, giving her clit a final, sticky smack before pressing down and back in with a hard thrust. It's effortless this time. She's so impossibly wet.

He fucks her just like she wants, giving unforgiving, precise thrusts, bottoming out at an angle that combs over her thickened sweet spot. With every slap of his hips, he can feel it firming up. Each meticulous, well-angled motion dials her moans up higher. Her hands are suddenly around his waist, holding on tight. That flutter he felt before becomes a wet, noisy slurp, getting wetter and louder… tighter and hotter. Carmy repeats his method several times: thrusting, pulling out, rubbing and tapping, back inside… fucking… and pounding until his heart's in his throat and sweat running down his temples, stinging his eyes. She's just as wrecked, perspiring under his hands on the backs of her knees, licking it off her upper lip and cheeks, hot and shiny.

"... oh, fuck—I'm… yes," she rips a hand off his side to lay flat on his desk. Her hips start to meet his in a messy, slippery mash.

Carmy watches, hypnotized. The jiggle of her breasts is only one of many mouth-watering delights like she's some feast prepared just for him, by him… steaming, boiling, cooking him alive. Fuck, he's not gonna last… and she's so close…

Just a little more—just another minute or more.

“I-I-fuck, fuck… I got this…”

He's chewing on his lower lip, watching the rapid blur of his cock as it pistons and slaps, disappearing and emerging, covered in shiny arousal. Her pussy is raw and swollen, her inner lips hugging him. She's sobbing, tears in her eyes, and, for a second, Carmy thinks he's done something wrong. Maybe he's hurt her… perhaps she's been pretending all along, or maybe he's been too selfish to take her hiccuping moans for what they really are, but then she's pressing up and forward, clawing at his back, leaving red welts through sweaty skin, shivering and trembling.

She yelps like someone spilled boiling water over her lap, then clenches down on his dick in a way that throws him into the back of his own body. It's all auto-pilot now…

“... fff’uh-fuck!”

Grunts rush between his teeth, his lips pressed into a white, pulsing line as the office fills with the rapid, wet slap of skin meeting skin; it claps with her 'uh' and 'ah's and his hot gushing exhales. He feels a fever wash over him.

Carmy winces with nails in his back, feeling everything all at once until the pressure in his lower back doubles, gripping his pelvis, balls, and upper thighs… until… it just… snaps…

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

A dim flicker of sapphire catches in his left eye from the lamp light. It glitters and gleams. Melted ice.

Deep lines grin beneath his eyes, trapped emotions spilling free. It would be odd coming from anyone else, but you think it's beautiful with Carmy.

Popping your cherry or lancing a wound, you think only partially consciously; sometimes , the difference is slim to none.

His dick twitches inside you, deep and thick, almost parallel to the soft, vulnerable line of his lips, their downward hook on either side and the tremble in the lower plush. Your hand finds his jawline, the scratchy five o'clock grating. His shoulders tense and shake, but he takes a great breath and lets it out as your palm moves upwards, a thumb sweeping away the tear before it can fall. It all feels terribly romantic until his right eye brims with moisture, and a drop escapes, leaving a line of shine behind.

"Oh, Carmy…" you murmur without thinking, "Should we have laid you out on a feather bed your first time?"

Judging by the silence, your poor attempt at a joke goes over poorly. A sick prick of anxiety settles in your chest as another tear breaches his lashes. Quickly, you shift despite your sore back, midway to wrapping both arms around him when his lips twitch. Carmy smiles—a snort of hot breath and then a smirk.

"I don't know, blowing my load in Mikey's office feels pretty good," Carmy's smile lifts tight on one end, "I mean, I loved the asshole, but this is…" a whistling sigh, "pretty sure he deserves this. Sorta payback."

"Could say it's also a comeback, " you grin, relishing the surprised cough of laughter from Carmy, lashes fluttering when the both of you feel his dick jostling softly inside you.

"Hey," he whispers, the vibe dropping to somber, "you're okay, though? Right?"

"M'hm," you smile, leaning in, fingers teasing the sweaty curls at his nape, "are you… okay? "

Your lips press in, brows up and open to reassure him you won't judge his answer. When he stays mute, you thumb the slick spot behind his ear, "Seriously, I mean… first times should be a bit… nicer than this. Not that it wasn't nice—it was great—the best—I just… I, uh, hope it lived up to your expectations."

Jesus, you think you sound like an executive apology video.

Carmy's smile drops for a second, eyes lazy and large, looking into you like he sees each stutter, each heartbeat, and flaw, loving it all. Tentatively, he closes the distance, kissing you as if it's the first time… like, after everything, there's a chance you'll pull away...

"It's perfect," another kiss, "it's fucking perfect." His voice breaks a bit with a whisper, "Thank you…."

You swipe a cool tear from beneath his soggy lashes and whisper, "What about these?"

Carmy huffs, good-humored, "Just got something in my eyes, is all."

You snort, then blush, about to apologize for your awkwardness, but Carmy just grins, showing some teeth with that love in his eyes again, and gives you another soft kiss. The aftermath of fucking on his desk is not magical—that's not how reality works—but it's relaxed. There's something like butterflies in your tummy when Carmy fails to bite down a whimper as your bodies disconnect, releasing a hot trickle of cum between your crushed globes.

Paper wings flap harder when he excuses himself with a stutter, begging you to 'stay right there' using his hands to coo you into stillness before rushing on weak knees out of the office, black jeans still sagging around his bare ass. He returns with a wet cloth, muttering 'shit' under his breath as he hesitates at the mess dripping off the desk.

"Bet you wish I made a mad dash to the bathroom now, hm?" He blinks, looking a little hungry. You chuckle, feeling your muscles tighten and cum ooze. Carmy just gulps and finally slips the rag between your splayed thighs.

"Naw," he smirks, nose against yours as the pressure of the damp cloth, his hand, and your swollen folds brings your heat beat south, "it's a good look on you."

"You're filthy."

It might be far more awkward to share this vulnerable moment with him, where his shaky palm wipes away your combined fluids from your sore pussy, your hips tilted out, and his other hand raising one leg. The kiss he presses to the cap of your knee? That should be corny and sickly, but it makes your heart skip happily… happy skipping… as if you'd forgotten it could do that.

"Thanks," you whisper, lower lip between your teeth.

"Sorry-" he winces, trying to dab away a dollop on your inner thigh, "-sorry, there's uh, there's a lot. Jesus. I really made a mess, huh?"

Something about the quiver of awe in his voice makes your pussy contract again, more cum heating out, only for Carmy to wipe it up with a groan of, "Fuck me… kinda looks like a" He stops, but you know exactly what's going through his mind because he thinks in food and sauces like you feel in flour and candied orange peels.

"A creampie? A twinkie? Bavarian Cream Donut?"

Carmy's lower lip droops, his face ruddy red. You think he will flounder for words like a fish for air, but he drops his head, shoulders limp, and shakes with a quiet laugh. He rubs at his nose and smirks, thumb and forefinger pinching the tacky fat of your inner thigh, right where that stray drop of jizz had been a moment ago. Cheeky and happy, you think, liking the look on him so much that you lean forward and plant a peck on his blotchy jaw.

You both help each other dress in comfortable silence, nothing but the howl of the wind outside the restaurant and distant car horns.

As Carmy tugs the hem of your sweater around your hips, he swallows—the sound of a bomb in the quiet, "Do you… wanna maybe get some coffee?"

"Thought you didn't fuck with caffeine?" You smirk, watching his hooded eyes open up a bit more as his gaze lifts from your chest to your lips, then your eyes. He matches your look, then drops his sweaty face into the crook of your neck and mumbles, "Yeah, but…" followed by three little words. They're a whisper, more like, but they feel loud and real… more real than anything—more real than the sex, panic attacks, or kneading the dough with a head chef screaming in your ear…

"I might…" you pause, sliding your arms around his shoulders, fingers threading over the back of his greasy scalp, "… feel the same way."

His response is a hug hotter than the heat rattling in the walls, tighter than the choke of fear, but soft, sweet, sugared, and spiced.

"Heard, Chef."

And you love him, fierce and suddenly, yet not so sudden as it suddenly feels.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Carmy doesn't mess with caffeine like she said, and he must have said at some point, but he's sipping on a cup of black because it's midnight, and he's not done just yet. Somehow, against all odds, he made her cum on his cock less than an hour ago, but it's still two to one in his favor, and he wants to study how her brows lift and crease when she orgasms at least once more tonight.

"You're being pretty quiet for someone who just got laid, ya know?"

He looks up to find the woman he wants to spend the rest of his shitty life with, looking just as flushed as she did when she came.

"We're not having an existential crisis, are we?" She says it with some humor, but it's dusted in insecurities and quickly covered by a sip of tea. Carmy can sniff that shit out faster than she can hide it cause he understands that shit all too well, but it's nothing like she thinks. If anything, he's almost more nervous to admit how wrapped in his thoughts she is—how soaked into his skin she feels. After what they did an hour ago… as if getting his dick wet has made him some fucking horn dog, she's all he wants to do. Kinda like trying to make up for lost time, maybe.

"Another one? Naw. No, I'm just…" he looks around the coffee shop; it's quiet—it's late—but there are still a couple occupied tables, "I was just-did you wanna… I dunno," he shrugs, looking into his coffee, "come back to my place tonight?"

Her cheeks are blushing near swollen when he glances up, but the smile on her face bolsters his confidence. All that fragrant affection and sweetness makes Carmy feel warm despite the chill the old coffee shop's heater just can't shake.

"Sure. Did you, umm… " her thumbs brush the lip of her cup, "what-what did you wanna do?"

"Fuck you again," it's an exhale laced with self-deprecating humor to mask his nerves.

"Oh," her lips form a puffy little circle, reminding him how it felt to have them wrapped around his cock earlier. The light rush of blood to his groin almost makes him laugh, like his body waking up for the first time. Carmy needs to reign it in… doesn't wanna come across as desperate or greedy, but then again…

"Sorry, that was… I just-just wanna keep doing whatever this is." He tries to emphasize whatever 'this is' with a palm waving against his chest, gesturing between them, "Been awhile since I've felt like…"

The word escapes him, though a quick glance at her soft smile says she gets it.

"This. Yeah," she whispers, grin growing.

"Yea, this." Carmy agrees and takes a sip of black coffee, bitter and nutty; the roast over-brewed but rich.

"And, yes, by the way… I'm up for round two if you are."

"Good," he breathes out, a mixture of relief and palpitations.

"Good."

After a minute of comfortable silence, an older Italian man sets a ceramic dish of cheese and raspberry danishes on the table, sparing a fleeting glance between them before dropping a few napkins by the pastries and ambling back behind the counter.

Carmy watches over thin steam trails as she slides the dish between them and breaks off a corner heaped with sweetened mascarpone. She pops it between her lips and sighs, "These things are always better a little stale."

Carmy's brows lift even as his lashes lower, "Didn't think you'd be the type."

She throws him a smart look and takes a sip of tea before snapping the Danish in half and shoving the flaky, sticky thing in her mouth. It's adorable—cute and sweet, and Carmy's heart beats a little faster… or is that the caffeine?

"Don't be such a purist, Carmy," she says after swallowing, brushing away crumbs, and licking her lips clean. He thinks of cum and blowjobs and kisses in the dim office back at the shop and nervous habits in the rain beneath the car park… and his breathing stalls for a second. Then she takes another bite and hums at the look on his face like she knows—fucking knows—exactly what's on his mind.

Like he's become some fuckin' horn dog overnight. Wild to think about. Cousin would probably bark at the moon knowing his baby bitch got laid.

Thank fuck it's Sunday tomorrow.

Carmy's shoulders laugh, lips twisted, "Look, don't for a second think I've never eaten three-day-old pasta out the fridge in the middle of the night… cause I've done even worse than that. Not even ashamed," a pause, "... well, maybe a bit."

"Ah, so your standards are finally called into question, Chef of the Year, " she jokes and gestures for him to finish the cheese danish while she breaks the raspberry one in half. "Seriously, I could never understand why my old pâtissier wanted these batched fresh every few hours… something about the filling solidifying, gunking up the filo… just tastes better the next day."

Nostalgic patina coats her words, her cheeks, and her eyes. It looks sad but full, and Carmy swallows before sinking back into his chair. They've talked about childhoods and pasts a few times, but it feels different now. Things are different, so Carmy scrubs his palm across his lips and settles in.

"When I was a kid, my brother and… we'd make pizzas on the weekend, right? Just the two of us. Every Monday morning for breakfast, we'd eat the leftovers cold," he says, licking his lips and tasting salt, "but it wasn't just cold pizza, like, it was homemade, so not so bad. But the thing is, we'd end up ladling these huge globs of jelly and peanut butter on them, fold 'em in half, and have these cold pizza peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch."

"That sounds…" pausing, then her nose scrunches with a smile, "super gross."

Carmy laughs silently, "Not as gross as congealed sweet cheeses."

The sadness melts away, and her eyes twinkle with mirth.

" Mmm, same level of heresy, but… that's the power of nostalgia, yeah? As kids, we eat what's there or easy, and it sticks with us…"

"Guess you could say food's good at that."

"Hm?" It's a mindless sound as she stares intently ahead, right into his own sleepy, dreamy gaze mixed with gap-toothed times of old and love-drunk highs of now.

"Memories," Carmy clarifies, "You know, making us feel shit when we're—fuck, I dunno—when we're struggling… like a stale danish can make us just fucking forget about everything for a while."

"… yeah. Or like, not just forget but feel."

"Yeah." He likes that. Feeling instead of forgetting or reliving bullshit that leaves him full of grief and bitterness. If he squints, looking for those feelings, they're far away, replaced by syrupy sweetness and sex hormones.

"Heh, yeah." She muses with a blush, fingers pitter-pattering against her cup of tea, eyes trained through the dark window pane on her right and then back at him with an even deeper color, "So, umm… think I'm ready to go—go back to yours I mean."

"Bake some fresh danishes, right? Or?" Carmy smirks, feeling oddly confident.

A coy little smile hitches up on one side of her face, "Or, maybe danishes if you're lucky."

"First time… starting to think I might be."

Lucky… yeah.

AO3 Link: HERE

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear fx #carmy x reader #the bear hulu #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #carmy smut #the bear and the baker

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beepboopkek · 1 month

Text

— Hidden Surprises (F!Reader)

Including: Kamisato Ayato x AFAB!Reader amab version has been posted on both tumblr and ao3 cw: !! NSFW !!, afab!reader, established relationship, bottom!sub!reader, top!dom!ayato, fluff and smut, pwp but barely, smacking (paddle), lots of teasing/flirting/kissing, mirror s3x, cursing, d1rty talk, like one sentence of n1pple play, cl1t smacks (only a few), slight dom/sub undertones, implied dom drop from ayato, mayb a little unrealistic s3x idk, AFTERCARE!!!! w/c: approx 2.8k words, might change since i make edits while posting a/n: after 8 goddamn drafts of this fic i managed to finally finish it,, im like at a 50/50 opinion on this but honestly i jsu wanted to get the brainrot out of my system... sorry for the long absence :sob:.. also i tried changing up my writing style a little, id love any form of feedback so feel free to leave a comment :D NSFW BELOW THE CUT

The evening air was crisp as you gently swirled the Sake in your cup, eyeing your husband over the rim as he sat beside you. The Yashiro Commissioner was poised and perfect as always— his hair neatly tied over his shoulder with a ribbon that matched his usual outfit. Your gaze travelled the expanse of his torso, unconsciously lingering on his hands as he kept them folded on the table. “You've been staring for a while.” Ayato’s voice broke you out of your thoughts as your eyes met his violet ones and you smiled.

“Oh, don't mind me. I’m simply admiring the view.” Your voice had a teasing lilt as you replied, still boring your eyes into his as you took another sip of your drink.

Ayato simply raised a brow at you, before moving his curious gaze to the half-empty bottle of Sake left beside you— immediately bringing out a hand to drag the bottle away from your reach.

“Hey! I was drinking that—!” You tried to snatch back the bottle like a cat that got its toy taken away but unfortunately for you, Ayato was too fast.

“Oh, I know.” Your husband only infuriatingly smiled back at you, relishing in the adorable pout on your face as you folded your arms in annoyance.

“I apologise, I want you to be somewhat sober tonight.”

You gasped, placing a hand on your chest, and giving him an offended look.

“I am sober! I only had two glasses.”

“Mhmm. Whatever you say.”

“Why do you need me to be sober anyway?”

Ayato leaned towards you, resting his hand on a closed palm. He tilted his head and looked at you with nothing short of pure adoration before saying, “I have a surprise for you.”

This time, it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. You mimicked his position (albeit with less elegance) as you tried to make the mental calculations to discern what this “surprise” could be.

Ayato and the word “surprise” never really mixed well for you. The last time he had a "surprise," it involved a strange hotpot that left you feeling queasy for days.

Ah.

Bingo.

“If it's another one of your horrible food concoctions, count me out.”

Ayato chuckled, a wide smile spreading across his face as he shook his head lightly. “Hehe, not to worry, dear. It's something you'll like.”

You would never admit it, but the two glasses of Sake did, in fact, put your mind in a pleasant buzz. You were never a good drinker to begin with so maybe it was good that your husband had confiscated your wine before you went overboard.

Well, that certainly wasn't going to stop you from teasing him, though.

You gave Ayato a languid gaze as you reached out a hand to twirl soft baby blue strands between your fingers, feeling his eyes on you as you brought his hair towards your lips, leaning in to give the strands a chaste kiss. You could feel Ayato’s breath hitch at the blatant display of public affection, which you didn't do very often.

“ … Tell me what it is then.”

Ayato recovered quickly, pulling back his face of smug satisfaction as he smiled.

“Well, it wouldn't be much of a surprise then, would it?”

You pouted at him again and he only chuckled in response, giving you a coy smile.

Two can play that game.

You surveyed your surroundings before deducing that no one would catch you and a mischievous smile coiled on your face as you observed your husband suddenly stuck in conversation with someone seated in front of the two of you.

You quietly praised each archon for giving you this golden opportunity as the perfect distraction appeared without any effort on your part.

You reached out to place your hand on his knee under the table, pretending to swirl the non-existent wine in your cup with the other so that no one would suspect a thing.

Ayato's eyes flickered to yours for a split second before continuing the conversation as if nothing had happened.

You smiled to yourself as you began to stroke the inside of his thigh with your thumb, inching your hand higher and higher.

He'd never admit it, but you could feel the way his leg shook ever so slightly at the intimate contact.

You kept your hand stationed there for the short duration of the commissioner’s conversation, cheekily observing the light dust of red that had covered the high rise of his cheeks (which he would later blame on the alcohol).

You're broken out of your giddy stupor when you feel a larger hand on yours, stopping all motion as he gripped your hand tightly before passing you a faux smile and turning back to excuse the two of you.

Rascal.

“I apologise, my wife seems to be getting tired.”

You looked at the guest and gave him an apologetic smile although you were anything but that.

The both of you quickly bid your goodbyes to more guests as you made your way out, your husband almost dragging you by the hand.

While the Yashiro Commissioner looked just about normal to everyone, you could see the impatient jitter in his steps, the flush down his neck and the slightly hurried hush in his voice as he navigated the two of you through the crowd.

Right as you were about to board the carriage to make your way back up to the Kamisato estate, Ayato pulled you against his chest to whisper into your ear—

“I'm going to ruin you tonight.”

…

Ayato kept a firm hand on your thigh the entire ride back, occasionally squeezing it while conversing with you as if nothing was happening.

As if he didn't make your entire body shudder with just a sentence.

As soon as the two of you entered the privacy of your shared room, Ayato covered your eyes with his hands and instructed you to keep them closed until he asked you to open them again while he helped you out of your outfit, both of you giggling at your unstable movements from being temporarily blinded.

Which landed you here, stark naked and seated on the edge of the bed waiting for your husband late into the night. Your eyes were screwed shut as he shuffled around the room before quietly helping you up and settling you on his lap— his slender hands squeezing around your body as he leaned in to nibble the shell of your ear. He moved his hands to your belly before dipping his hands in between and prying your legs apart with a gentle insistence that had you murmuring his name in half-hearted protest.

“Open your eyes.”

You did just that, adjusting to the sudden brightness as you took in the sight before you.

A large rectangular mirror with an ornate gold frame with the Kamisato crest on the top, set on the wall in front of your bed.

You observed your reflection in the mirror with shallow breaths, the golden lamps doused the room in a soft glow as you shivered, your husband's hands still placed between your thighs, keeping them apart.

Archons.

Your eyes met Ayato's observant gaze in the mirror as he spoke again, "Well, what do you think?"

“ … It's beautiful.”

Ayato smiled against your ear, kissing the side of your head affectionately.

“I knew you would like it.” Your breath hitched in embarrassment as your gaze travelled the entire expanse of the mirror, your ears burning with the overwhelming urge to hide. You could see every inch of your exposed body reflected at you, making your heart race.

“But, why—”

His hands remained steady on your thighs, grounding you as he squeezed them again and cut you off with a kiss to the side of your neck as he looked at you through the mirror. “I want you to see how mesmerising you look.”

His hands travelled along the outline of your torso as you waited for him to continue, “I want you to see what I see.” That's when his left hand reached back onto the bed, fumbling momentarily before he brought something forward. You glanced down, curiosity piqued, and saw that he held a— Oh.“I thought you’d be more romantic with your surprise.” A paddle. With a tiny heart cut out in the middle of it. “Well, I’ve always believed in doing things in a more unorthodox way.” The mischievous glint in his eye told you there was more to this. Ayato’s hand, which was still on your thigh, pulled it back a little further. He gently swept the paddle against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the polished wood providing a smooth glide. “The rules are simple,”

You tore your eyes from the mirror to glance to your side when he raised the paddle a little, striking down on your thigh. You jolted in surprise as you immediately felt his hand rub the irritated skin softly. “One, do not look away from the mirror.” Ayato’s finger traced the heart imprint left on your thigh as he continued, “— and two, do not close your eyes.” Ayato’s hands traced the outline of your body as he silently awaited your consent. The silence was that of comfort, you felt relaxed knowing you could opt out of this at any moment and your husband wouldn’t hold it against you. You smirked. “… Ruin me, Commissioner.” You felt a sharp exhale on your shoulder as Ayato’s hands moved with renewed purpose all over your body. You felt his hand creep towards your chest, fondling one side as he tweaked the nipple between his fingers, your low moans now filling the room. He latched his lips onto the column of your neck as he begrudgingly left your chest to trail his hand towards your clit. His other hand was still holding onto the paddle that rested against your thigh, unmoving and unfaltering in making its presence known. A wave of relief washed over you as his fingers made contact with your clit, your eyes closed in pure bliss as you moaned in pleasure, locking your hands behind his neck and— A smack to the inside of your thigh snapped your eyes right back open in shock. Oh. Right.“Eyes on the mirror.” You nodded fervently as Ayato went back to toying with your clit, drawing sticky sweet circles as his sharp gaze stayed glued to your body through the mirror. You glanced down to your thighs in the mirror to see a red imprint of the paddle on your skin and looked back up to meet Ayato’s heated gaze, a coy smirk playing into his voice as he spoke again. “Enjoy the show, dear.” Ayato slid his now wet middle and ring finger down, dipping the tips inside you as you shook in anticipation. His hand flexed as he moved his fingers deeper, lightly thrusting them in and out as he searched for your sensitive spots with experienced precision.

“All that bravado in the evening, where is it now?”

He ground his palm into your clit as he pushed his fingers to the knuckle— Your moans mingling with his heavy breaths. You pushed yourself back against his chest in hopes of alleviating some of the tension in his pants.

His voice was breathless as he spoke in your ear,

“Do you like it when I do this?” and he curled his fingers inside you, making you moan again.

Maybe it was the whole evening of teasing that got you to the cusp of an orgasm so soon but, it was quickly becoming too much. Ayato's skilled hands proved to be too deadly for you— making you close your eyes and lean your head back onto his shoulder as you moaned.

Smack!

Eyes opened wide, you jolted back up and your orgasm washed over you immediately as Ayato continued to pump his fingers in and out to help you ride it out.

“Fuck—”

You panted, struggling to keep your eyes open. Ayato stilled as his left hand let go of the paddle to grab your chin, forcing you to look sideways as he kissed you deeply.

Your lips parted with his as you both caught your breath— your husband gently removing his fingers from you and wiping them onto the cloth laid next to him.

Ayato moved you a little forward as he unzipped his pants, pulling his cock from underneath you so that it poked out between your soft thighs.

Archons, he could get used to this view.

He wanted to make you wait, wanted to edge you until you were begging for him, tears sticking to your clumped lashes as you pouted at him, whining and writhing in his hold as he kept your pleasure from you.

But he couldn't.

He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

He aligned himself with you, slowly pushing in as you both moaned in relief.

Ayato curled a hand around your waist to hold you in place as he set a rhythm of short and quick thrusts, latching his mouth onto your neck again as he bit down to stifle his moans.

“Ayato, please-”

A resonant smack to your sensitive nipple is all that you get in response as you immediately plaster your eyes back on the mirror.

— and archons was it a sight, your bodies were covered in a thin sheen of sweat as red-purple imprints of the paddle were littered across the expanse of your soft skin, little bruises blossoming on both sides of your neck, your hair stuck to your forehead as you writhed in your spot, aching to find release again.

The hand curled around your waist twisted downwards to play with your clit as you sighed in pure bliss before you abruptly felt his hand moving away and a series of smacks on your sensitive nerves.

Fuck. You didn't even notice you stopped looking at the mirror.

He unlatched himself from your neck, leaving deep imprints of his teeth as he raised his head to pull at your earlobe with his teeth.

“You know I don't like repeating myself.”

Tears clung to your eyes as your body buzzed through the different sensations of pain and pleasure, the thought of disappointing your husband sitting heavy in your throat as you swallowed down your complaints.

His pace grew erratic as you held onto him, heavy moans mingling with his silent ones as tears slipped from your eyes.

“Come with me.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as Ayato spoke into your ear. You barely registered the tip of the paddle hitting your clit again or how your husband pulled out just in time to finish on your lower back— your legs trembling as you clenched around nothing.

Holy shit.

Ayato detached himself from you, flipping you over so that you were laid flat on the bed on your stomach as you caught your breath. He took the washcloth he had set up earlier to clean you off a little before helping you up and lifting you to prepare a bath.

You were floating, you weren't sure how much time had passed when you came to but you were (yet again) seated in your husband’s lap as he gently massaged your stiff shoulders, waiting for you to regain your senses. “ … Hi.” You spoke as you turned your head to meet his lips in a soft kiss. “Hello.” You got up on shaking limbs, turning your body over so that you were straddling his legs. Ayato looked at you questioningly, tilting his head. You simply kissed the mole under his lip as you replied, “I wanted to see your face.”

“Oh? Did you miss me?”

You kissed the tip of his nose this time, “Yes.”

He smiled, the edges of his eyes crinkling as his gaze lingered on all the hickeys he had left, his face dropping a little.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great. A little sore but I'll be fine.”

You leaned down to kiss the mole on his collarbone, lingering there to leave a love bite of your own.

There was a pause, you knew this was when he would start questioning himself.

“Was I—?”

Before he could finish his question, you captured his lips in a soft kiss, caressing the back of his head with your hands as you gently massage it.

“No. It was perfect. In every sense of the word, I enjoyed it.”

Ayato smiled at you again.

There was a comfortable silence after that, the both of you taking turns to wash out each other's hair and backs, sneaking small kisses in between as you giggled.

You dried each other off before your husband laid you down on the bed, procuring an ointment seemingly out of nowhere as he applied it to the bruises on your thighs.

You laid down on the soft sheets and felt the energy drain from your bones, giving Ayato one last peck on the lips before you drifted off to sleep.

“I love you.”

He kissed the top of your head lovingly, and if you were any more tired, you would've missed his response.

“I find myself falling for you more and more every single day. Goodnight, dear.”

#ayato smut #kamisato ayato smut #kamisato ayato x you #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #self insert x canon

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