cozy armchairs

2

It’s a warm place here but the streets
Are waiting for our footprints
Star dust on our boots sparkles and shines
There’s a cozy armchair with a checkered blanket
The trigger hasn’t been pulled in time
Sunny days… in dazzling dreams 

here are my pics for @yurionicebigbang‘s viktuuri reverse big bang, featuring a band au where yuuri and and viktor are both guitarists together!

@niedolia made the beautiful fic “Blood Type” right here, so please check it out too!
thank you so much again for working on this with me!! c:

diva-gonzo  asked:

31. “You need to be quieter.” - for Romione (only if you want, no obligation, etc.)

A/N: I finally did this one, 3 months later, but I did it @diva-gonzo!  There’s not enough Romione in the world and sadly this is a short one but I tried :)  I got inspiration from a conversation about unconventional parenthood so…

Also available on FF and Ao3!


Rearing

“It’s just that Harry has never been one to take care of himself,” Hermione huffs as she brushes the floo powder from her cloak, Ron following behind her.

“But he’s an adult now, and he’s not our child,” Ron answers with a laugh, palm finding the small of her back as they make their way further into Harry’s empty flat.

After flicking her wand toward a few lamps, Hermione removes her cloak and gestures for Ron to do the same, tossing them toward the cozy armchair Harry likes to snuggle up with Ginny in on cozy nights in.  “First, becoming a legal adult doesn’t a responsible adult make, and second since when is Harry not our child?”

Ron stumbles over one of Harry’s too old trainers and his face heats.  “Unless I missed something –”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione tugs him into the kitchen, clucking her tongue at the cupboard, bare aside from a few packets of crisps and a tin of baking powder.  “I mean at school, our little chats, the fireside confrontations, you know. Unless you’re thicker than we thought.”

With an indignant ‘Oi!’ Ron pinches Hermione’s bum, earning himself a slap, before sticking his head in the cupboard next to hers.  “Hermione our son’s a disgrace.”

The laughter hasn’t finished bubbling out of her throat when Ron’s broad freckled hand closes over her mouth.  Hermione’s brow furrows angrily but Ron’s already pushing her into the luckily empty cabinet.  

The dusty wood shelves dig into her back unpleasantly as Ron leans forward, breath warm against her ear. “I think Harry’s home.”

Sadly for Hermione, Ron is too perceptive to miss the shiver that runs up her spine, and a chuckle rumbles through him.  “Is this a thing for you, then?”

She snorts, shoving at his shoulders.  “It was a natural bodily reaction.”

Suddenly Ron’s mouth is a breath away, his eyes shining playfully in the dim light.  “We can talk about ‘natural bodily reactions,’ but you need to be quieter.”

He swallows indignant ‘Ron!’ and she’s pressed more firmly against the shelves, but she can’t seem to care when he’s nibbling there, and she’s nearly forgotten why they’re shoved in the closet until Harry’s voice rolls through the flat.

“Harry!”

Ron pulls away, laughter in his eyes.  “I’m not as insecure as young Ron, but shouting Harry’s name while I’m –”

She lands a blip to his nose.  “Don’t be obtuse Ronald.  He’s talking to someone,” she pauses, “he’s not alone – it’s a woman.”

They’re practically holding their breaths as they wait for more clues when Ron whispers bitingly, “I knew they were lying about when Ginny got home from away games – bloody hell I’ll – ”

“Now, you need to be quieter.  Honestly, they’re engaged and you should be the first to admit your family is a bit – intense,” Hermione answers reasonably as she pats his cheek.

Silence falls within the cupboard once again and Ginny’s voice drifts through the flat and her tone can’t be described as anything but a moan of Harry’s name.  Hermione clears her throat uncomfortably as a combination of anger and embarrassment brings a flush to his cheeks.  “Hermione if you think I’m going to listen to my best mate and my sister –”

“I’m not the one who acted like a common criminal when Harry gave us his floo password,” Hermione answers with a smirk.

“No, but you’re the one who had to mollycoddle our fake son – “

Now it’s Harry’s low growl that rumbles through the air and Ron’s bursting from the closet, already halfway to the living room before Hermione has a chance to catch up, “Get your bloody buggering hands off my –”

Hermione stumbles around the corner to find a slack jawed Ron facing down a smirking Harry and a vindicated Ginny enthroned on the worn couch, a fair bit of space between them and no sign of adult activities in sight.

“How did you?” Ron splutters.

Harry’s bright green eyes dart over to the cloaks draped across the cozy armchair.  “I didn’t think I had to make a ‘no erotic trysts in the cupboard rule’ – haven’t I dealt with enough traumatizing cupboards and closets for one life time?”

Color rushes to Hermione’s cheeks and Ron grunts uncomfortably, knowing exactly what they would’ve gotten up to if he hadn’t –

Then Ginny stands and ushers them toward the floo, tossing their cloaks over their shoulders.  “Now if you’ll excuse us, my fiancé owes me a proper welcome home.”

Let me tell you what Hufflepuff is,
it’s getting up early enough
to hear the birds sing
opening the window and
sitting on the cozy armchair
where you can feel the morning breeze
while cuddled up into your favourite
fluffy warm sweater
the smell of coffee
filling your room
mixing with the scent of the sunflowers
you forgot to water yesterday.
Texting your friends before
they turn on their phones
so they can wake up to
a sweet good morning text
pick your book for the day
and braid flowers into your hair.
Bake a pie
with fresh apples and cinnamon,
take a walk outside and smile
at the strangers to brighten their day,
get your bike from the place you left it
the night before because
your best friend drove you home
after you buzzed and danced with
the most gorgeous human in the park
next to the bonfire and under stars,
buy new sneakers and start
wearing them until they’re your favourite,
take the neighbor’s dog for a walk
you’d do it for free but they insist
so you go and get ice cream
with rainbow sprinkles
as you sit by the lake and listen
to the birds
before you come home to see
a bouquet of flowers
and a card
with two silhouettes dancing
🎀✨🌌🐥🌻🌾

Oneshot: Reconnecting the Dots

A big thank you to @wiz-witch for beta reading! Took me three days, but it was worth it!


Another day, another business meeting. Scrooge dropped the last of the dull golden coins in the money bin. The coins were always in meticulous condition, but since that fateful day, the sparkles had dulled and the surface no longer shone brightly.

Swimming in his personal El Dorado no longer held the same appeal as it once did. All this money, all the jewels he’d accumulated over years of hard work and determination, sitting isolated from the world. 

It took a foolish man to believe that wealth was the most important thing in his life. In that case, there was nothing that separated him from any other foolish man, Scrooge supposed. 

He turned away from his wealth, climbing out of the vault. The hatch was shut once again. 

It was time to retire for the night and repeat the same routine tomorrow. 


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Winchester Sister- It’s A Wonderful Life

Originally posted by littlemisstarlight9214

Originally posted by theoverlordmisha

FIVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS: DAY 5

Title: It’s a Wonderful Life

Parings: Dean x reader!sister, Sam x reader!sister

Words: 1077

Summary: It’s Christmas Morning in the bunker and the Winchester siblings have a quiet Christmas together

(A/N: Merry Christmas! Hope everyone had a great day! xoxo JC)

__________________________

You walk into the library and see the Christmas tree that you had forced Sam and Dean to get, lit with bright lights. You wrap yourself in your blanket, heading towards the large, cozy armchair located right in front of the tree and plop down. You know that it’s only four in the morning and that neither of your brothers are going to be awake anytime soon, but it’s tradition to wake up early on Christmas; it has been since you were a little girl.

After an hour or two Sam wakes up and makes his way into the library and sees you nuzzled up next to the tree in a big blanket. He smiles at himself as he makes his way to you and plants a kiss to your head once he reaches you, “Merry Christmas,”

You look up and smile at Sam and lean your head on his arm that is propped on the chair, “Merry Christmas, Sammy.”

“How long have you been up?” He asks as he yawns and rubs his eyes.

“Um, not too long,” You lie and Sam scoffs.

“Yeah right (Y/N), I’ll make us some coffee, okay?” Sam pats your back and leaves you to go to the kitchen. Sam knows you too well to know that you always wake up at the crack of dawn for Christmas.

You look back at the tree and smile at all of the ornaments that you put on it; since your brothers wouldn’t help you decorate it. There are five presents under the tree and three out of the five are very poorly wrapped.

“Hey,” You turn your head and see Dean coming up to you, still wearing his pajamas.

“Hey.” You respond and you watch as he stops right in front of you. He makes a grunting noise and he points for you to scoot over. You wrap the blanket tighter against you as you move over a little for Dean to sit down. Once he’s seated, you lie against him and cuddle into your blanket. Dean wraps his arm around you and rests his head on top of yours. Neither of you say another word to each other as you two both admire the Christmas tree.

Sam returns with two cups of coffee and hands you one of them then pulls up a chair to sit next to you and Dean. “It’s not that good, it’s that damn coffee machine…”

Dean reaches his hand out and you immediately roll your eyes but hand him your cup of coffee. After taking a sip, he hands it back to you with a smile, which you return to him.

“So, are we going to open presents or what?” Dean blurts out after a few minutes of silence.

“Dean, it’s six in the morning, I’m barely awake.” Sam replies and he sits back in his chair.

“Yeah I want to open presents,” You say nonchalantly.

Dean smiles at you and looks at Sam, “You’re outnumbered, Sammy. Alright, let’s get started.”

Dean rubs his hands together as he stands up to get the presents. He crouches down and looks at the name tags before separating them for each person. He stands up and gives Sam two presents, sits his own two on the arm of the chair, and lays yours on the floor. You huff at him but he turns to you and gives you a reassuring smile to why he did it.

Dean turns to look at Sam, giving him the look to go first. Sam then picks up the big one and unwraps it. “Oh wow, no way!”

You smile at his response at the brand new Keurig in his lap, “Yeah, because you complain like every day about that freaking coffee machine being broken.”

Sam laughs and looks at you, “Aw, thanks (Y/N). This is great!”

He puts down the box and picks up his other present from Dean. When he unwraps it, he rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Really Dean?”

“What you don’t like it?” Dean asks, trying to look offended.

“Oh no, it’s just that this is the exact book that I was reading last week.”

“Oh you mean I got you something that you already had? Wow I know you too well,” Dean tries to play off.

“Dude, it still has the sticky notes that I was writing notes on in it.” Sam looks over at your older brother with annoyance.

“Okay, okay, you caught me.” Dean laughs.

“Wow, thanks Dean.” Sam says with a straight face.

“My turn!” Dean perks up and he tears the paper away from a small box and smiles, “Alright!”

He flips through the collection of classic rock cds before sitting them by his feet and grabs the other present.

He unwraps the tall box and pulls out a large bottle of whiskey. He chuckles with a big smile plastered onto his face and then looks at you, “Dude, you’re 17, how the hell did you even get into a liquor store?”

“You’d be surprised what batting your eyelashes and a little flirting will get you.” You say with a smile.

“Or a fake I.D.” Sam says under his breath as he gives you a stern look.

“(Y/N), I thought we told you to stop using that thing?” Dean asks, his smile falling.

“Well did you want that bottle of whiskey or should I go return it?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“Okay, fine. We’re going to talk about this later,” Dean says, pointing a finger at you. “Okay, now before I give you this, just know that it’s from both me and Sammy.”

Dean hands you a poorly wrapped box and him and Sam both watch as you tear the paper away. You lift up the lid and gasp, “Oh my god, are you guys serious?”

Sam and Dean both laugh and nod at the same time.

You pull out the silver 9mm caliber gun with your face in awe. “Oh my god thank you!”

“You’re welcome, but you’re going to have to practice with it before you go anywhere with it.” Sam says.

“Wait, does this mean I can go on more hunts with y’all?” You ask, your eyes widening with excitement. Sam and Dean glance at each other before looking back at you with small smiles. “Oh my god, really?!”

You jump up and throw your arms around them both and squeal with joy. “This is the best Christmas ever, thanks you guys!”

Hell Bitch: An Explanation

“Well there is no postponing this any longer, is there? I warn you now, my friends, this tale is…well explicit in nature. Explicit and cruel. I will keep it as light at possible but I cannot guarantee my story telling skills will make it any less disturbing…Still here are you? Well. Lets get started then…”

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Bedroom Window 3 - Pt. 1

This one is running way longer than anticipated, so I’ve decided to break it into 2 parts.  Hope everyone likes the first half!


The walls in the Reyes’ den glowed muted tones of blue as Tom Hank’s face flashed across the screen.  Six, teenagers in various states of laze lay strewn over deep armchairs and cozy couches of the room.  Some watched the glowing screen of the television anxiously.  Others, already disinterested in the movie, checked their phones absentmindedly, looking for a distraction.  In the corner, his girlfriend cuddled up in his lap; Lincoln began to doze off, overtired from a long day of classes, practices and club meetings.  No one said anything about the two figures noticeably absent from the room.

“We should get back.” Lexa pulled away from her girlfriend, desperate for air.  She pressed her back against the cold surface of the sink, her heavy breathing echoing off the ceramic tiling in the darkened room. In spite of herself, she let her hands drop suggestively below the blonde’s waistline, her palms cupping the ample curves of Clarke’s backside.  

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anonymous asked:

Can I get something hinny? Just anything remotely cute and romantic? I need a pick me up

A/N: I really wanted to answer this when you sent it but I was out of town with no computer :(  Hopefully you found a cute pick me up in the mean time, but I wrote this one for you :)

Side note I need to stop naming fics with “e” words lol

Also available on FF and Ao3!


Enthusiasm

Wind whips against the windowpane, the chill seeping in through minute cracks and trickling past the tightly woven wool of Harry’s Weasley jumper – this one nearly a year old and once again the deep color of his eyes.  His quill stops scratching as he smirks to himself, knowing Ginny oh so casually hints to her mother each year about how much Harry likes that particular shade.  Personally, he has no strong feelings one way or another, but Ginny certainly did.  And when she was happy, he was happy – Ginny made sure of it.  Frequently.

So Harry would wear emerald green until the day he kicked it.

But today, the jumper is less about enticing a certain fiery red head and more about staving off the increasingly frigid London winter.  With a sigh, he places his quill down carefully to avoid splatter and leans from his desk chair toward the cozy armchair nestled nearby to tug the cozy knit blanket from its arm – momentarily forgetting he is in fact a wizard, despite the picture of his girlfriend that winks at him from the left side of his desk and the wand that rocks back and forth at his right.

Fingers finally catching on the soft nap of the throw, Harry grits his teeth and leans a little further, letting out a surprised yelp with the final shift slides the chair out from beneath him and he ends up with bent glasses and a face full of carpet.

“Alright Potter?” an amused voice asks from behind him.

Scrunching his nose, Harry turns his head to the side, too defeated and cold to move, “No need to sound so smug Weasley.”

He hears her chuckle – full and warm – followed by the quiet sound of her feet padding across the room. “I laugh because I love you.”

Sure.”

She doesn’t answer, but instead strides closer, her dainty feet – complete with adorably freckled toes she likes to wriggle in his face after Quidditch practice – appear before his eyes.

One of his slim hands comes up to stroke across the arch of her foot, just light enough to not tickle, before she squats down and lays herself parallel with him, her face inches away.  “Tired dear?”

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Don't Leave: Yoongi Smut

Prompt: You and Yoongi are friends but it turns into something more. Requested by @deadlyniightshade

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: This scenario contains sexually explicit themes. Read at your own discretion.


In the corner of the room, with a drink in your hand, you sat quietly observing. The cup was full; you’d only taken two sips from the spiked eggnog. The only reason you had a drink at all was to fit in to the party scene around you.

Taehyung had been successful in his attempts at getting you to come to a Christmas party. With over 100 texts, and him practically begging, you’d reluctantly agreed.

And now, there you sat, alone after Tae had wandered off and left you. You didn’t know anyone there and didn’t really even like parties at all, so you secluded yourself to a cozy armchair by the fire. Christmas tunes drifted through the air and you found yourself humming along.

After an hour and no sign of Tae, you felt bored out of your mind. A few people had tried to approach you and make small talk, but none of it lasted long as they moved on to find a more interesting guest to talk to. You would have given anything to make the mind numbing boring feeling leave.

The door opening a half hour later made you look up from your phone screen. A familiar mop of mint green hair walked through the door smiling and greeting his friends. Your heart swelled at the sight of him and you immediately scowled, trying to suppress the feeling.

Min Yoongi.

The boy you’d had a crush on in university. You’re best friend who was there for you through every shitty relationship. The boy you left behind because loving someone who didn’t feel the same way back tore you apart. And he had just walked back into your life, just like he walked through that door.

It took all of your energy to stay in your seat. You wanted nothing more than to run and hug him. To reconnect and never let him out of your sight again, but you held back. You’d hurt him when you left, no word or explanation to let him know why. It tore him apart and you didn’t know how he felt towards you now. So you sat and tried to remain inconspicuous.

All of that was destroyed a few minutes later when he happened to glance over and catch your eyes with his. The smile vanished from his face in remarkable time, but his eyes never broke contact until another guy came up and patted him on the back. He seemed to say something before walking away from the group and making his way towards you.

The shock on your face seemed to amuse him and you squeaked out, “No, no, no!” to yourself. Once he had made his way over, he tapped you, signaling for you to scooch over and you reluctantly did. A few minutes of awkward silence and stiffness passed before he spoke up.

“So, long time, no see, (Y/N)-ah,” his casual tone had you cringing. How could he be so civil when you felt like you were about to burst? Would he get to the point already? Start yelling so that you could get this horrible confrontation over with? You were dragged from your thoughts when you felt two eyes on you.

“Why are you here?” You blurted out before you could stop it. “Sorry, that was a bit rude…”

“I know what you meant. I’m friends with Kim Taehyung. Do you know him?” He rested his arm on the seat behind you. Your cheeks heated up and your skin felt itchy. The casual conversation was getting to you and you looked at the fire, wondering if it was a viable option to throw yourself into the flames.

“Taetae?” You asked almost absentmindedly, forgetting about the nickname.

“Taetae? Oh man, I’m never letting him live that down,” he chuckled. The laugh was the last string that you could take and you blurted out words again.

“Why aren’t you mad? Why are you here, talking to me like I never left? Like I’m not a shitty person who left you in the dust without telling you anything,” you wiped angrily at the tears that leaked from your eyes, embarrassed to be crying in public.

He sighed. A thoughtful look crossed over his face and he stayed silent for a few minutes, contemplating. Finally, he looked into your eyes and tilted his head, studying you.

“I’m not mad,” he said simply.

“What- you- you’re not- what?” You stuttered and stumbled through your words, not even creating a coherent sentence.

“I’m not mad,” he repeated. “I know how scary it is to like someone… To not think that they like you back. To have it consume you completely and wholly. It hurt…. a lot. But, I understand.”

“You- you knew?” You squeaked out. He barked out a sharp laugh and the arm around the back of the couch came around your shoulder and pulled you into him.

“I knew because I felt the same way for a long time. When you left… I talked to Taehyung about it and he told me you liked me too, but I was scared. I was so fucking scared, so I stayed away. But here you are tonight. And here I am too.”

“Seems a bit like fate doesn’t it,” you chuckled.

“I wouldn’t call it fate, exactly. This is my house, idiot,” he teased. “I went out to grab more snacks. Taehyung set this whole thing up. And later if you still feel the same way as before you left, when everyone leaves, I’m going to fuck you right on this very chair,” and with that he got up and began his mingling again. Your cheeks turned red and the surprised “O” on your face put the confident smirk back on his. Your body was suddenly very warm and you considered moving away from the fire.

He kept a careful eye on you from around the house the rest of the night. He wanted to make sure you didn’t run off on him again, but with his promise in your mind, he had nothing to worry about.

Finally, after an hour of sitting and waiting, only Taehyung was left talking to Yoongi at the door. It was clear that Yoongi was giving all of his efforts to get Tae to leave you two alone, but Taehyung was as oblivious as ever. Yoongi eventually scoffed and leaned in to whisper something in Tae’s ear. His faced turned surprised as his eyes flickered over to you. He nodded eagerly at whatever Yoongi had told him, and it didn’t take long for his signature shit eating grin to grace his features.

“Oh! Okay, hyung,” you managed to hear him chuckle. He looked back in your direction one last time before making his departure. “Have fun, (Y/N)-ah!”

After what seemed like ages, you two were alone. A heavy feeling hung over the entire apartment and the light Christmas music did nothing to help break the tension. Yoongi stayed by the door surveying you, his head tilted in thought. You swallowed hard, unsure of how to act under his predatory stare.

“After all this time, is it possible that you become even more beautiful than I remember?” he spoke up. Your cheeks darkened, and you broke the gaze by looking down to your twiddling fingers.

“Look at me,” his words, although soft spoken, held a power you simply couldn’t deny. Your eyes returned to his. They seemed noticeably darker than they had only a minute before. He sauntered over to you slowly, leaving enough time for the heartbeat in your chest to quicken. Then, before you knew it, he was in front of you, his hands resting on the armrests on both sides of you. His face leaned precariously close to yours, only a few inches separating your lips.

“Before I… I need to know that you feel the same way. I need to know that this isn’t a one night thing. I need to know that you’ll still be here in the morning so I can hold you in my arms. I can’t have you leave with my heart again,” his eyes bore into yours.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you breathed out. In the next instant, his lips were on yours. You responded with the heat of all the pent up emotions you’d concealed, with the pain of leaving someone you loved, with the love that swelled in your chest. Your fingers reached up to grab handfuls of his hair and lightly tug at the gossamer strands. He groaned into the kiss, and his hands left their place in the armrests to hold your waist.

You squealed when he lifted you up and traded places with him. He sat back in the chair, and you straddled his lap. The kiss was only broken for a moment as you adjusted to the new position. He hardly gave you a few seconds before his hands returned to your waist and tugged you into him, the feverish kiss continued.

You could feel him beneath you, growing harder by the minute. Warmth spread through your body at the realization that he really did feel the same as you did. Taking the initiative to return the feeling, you grinded down on him and he let out a throaty growl.

“I missed you,” he growled out, and the fingers on your waist dug in almost painfully. This spurred you on, and you continued on with you ministrations, occasionally stopping to roll your hips or swirl them in figure eights. He almost couldn’t kiss you, the pleasure from your movements making him groan and throw his head back.

“I missed you, too,” you breathed out. Your hands rested on his shoulders as they supported your weight. His hands ran under your shirt and lifted it up to your shoulders before you helped him remove it entirely. He took a moment to appreciate your chest and run his fingers over the lacy cream material. His lips moved in to press soft kisses along your collarbones and breasts. Slowly, his kisses became harder and more urgent as he began to suck deep scarlet marks.

The feverish kissing didn’t stop until you were both nearly naked, clad only in underwear. The room was quiet other than heavy breathing and the fire crackling. You stared into each other’s eyes; the weight of what you were about to do hung in the air.

“Are you okay?” He was the one to break the silence. “I don’t want to ruin this. We can go back to never talking… It’ll kill me harder than last time but I only want this if-”

“Just shut up and fuck me already,” you cut him off.

“I can do that,” his eyes were noticeably darker. Before you had a chance to make a snarky reply, his boxers were pushed down and your panties were pushed to the side. The swollen head of his cock was pushed against your entrance, and again the atmosphere was thick with tension. Without breaking eye contact, he began to ease himself into you. His face held immense concentration as he focused on giving you time to adjust instead of mercilessly pounding into you.

The wait was too much, you’re body too needy. With a huff, you pushed yourself down and bottomed out on him. He let out a strangled noise from the back of his throat and you thought his fingernails had surely raised blood on your hips.

“Oh, fuck,” his yelp rang out across the apartment. You let out your own hum of approval at the feeling of him filling you so completely. All your life, you didn’t think you had ever felt so whole.

“Yoongi, you feel so good,” you moaned. Neither of you had moved yet, instead choosing to bask in the feeling of each other. He could hardly reply, his face screwed up in pleasure.

“(Y/N), baby, I need you to move,” he moaned out. His forehead was covered in sweat from the exertion and his teeth were clenched. You relaxed your body and allowed him to guide your movements. Your arousal allowed him to move easily, sliding out of your slick heat. He didn’t waste time setting a brutal pace, one that you could hardly keep up with.

“You feel so good,” he huffed. You clenched around him for good measure and his face scrunched up. “Fuck. Do that again,” he bit his lip his lip so hard that you were afraid he would draw blood. You continued to work yourself on him and he let out strings of curse words.

It didn’t take long for the strange feeling to begin in your stomach. It started as a low heat, building and flowering through your limbs. Your movements became frantic as you rode him, desperately chasing the high. When he brushed against the sensitive spot inside of you, stars erupted behind your eyes.

“Yoongi, I’m so close. I’m so close, so close,” you whined. His hips were stuttering and his rhythm was sporadic, signaling that he was close too. One hand left your hips and trailed down to your sensitive, swollen bud. His fingers swiped circles over your clit and the white heat began to release itself through your body.

“Come for me, baby,” he rasped. You were gone. The electricity exploded inside of you and you let out a scream before your vision went completely white. It was the strongest orgasm you’d ever had in your entire life and the sparks didn’t cease. Your whole body felt aglow and tingly.

Yoongi’s movements were sloppy as you realized that he had come and was riding out his own pleasure. While you were preoccupied in your own bliss, you hadn’t even noticed him spill his hot liquid inside you. His hips eventually stopped moving and his head fell against the chair. You allowed your sweaty form to fall forward as your draped yourself across him. The room fell back into the soft sounds of heavy breathing and crackling fire.

You laid together like that for a few minutes until he gently lifted you off of him, the both of you wincing. He reached around you to grab a tissue and cleaned the sticky come from your thighs, then gently placed your underwear back in place and slipped himself back in his boxers. He moved you so that he was cradling you against his still warm skin, and you hummed.

“Sorry about these,” he ran his fingers over the angry red welts on your hips.

“They’ll heal,” you mused. You honestly didn’t care. In fact, the marks would serve as a beautiful reminder for the next few days or so. “I won’t leave again,” you said a few minutes later. He didn’t reply but instead tugged you as close to him as he could.

“Good. I wouldn’t let you go anyway. Not again,” he peppered kisses down your face and you smiled.

After all this time, everything would be okay again. That you were sure of.