#IT PUTS THE LOTION IN THE BASKET | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonycries · 2 months

Text

Isn't That Sweet? (I Guess So) - G.S.

Synopsis. Oh no! Why do your pantíes keep disappearing? Well, maybe your hot roommate knows the answer…

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, pànty-stealer! roommate! Gojo, annoyances-to-lovers, he’s REALLY down bad, vírgin! Gojo, oraI (fem receiving), màle màsturbation, pining, face-sítting, jealousy (his side), fírst times, unprotected, creampíe, teary Gojo, pànty-gagging, HEINOUS things, pet names, aIcohol mentions, swearing.

Word count. 8.6k (whoopsies)

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely week hehe <3

“Damn…” you sigh at the glaringly empty drawer, rubbing your eyes as if that would make a difference - maybe even magically materialize a fresh pair of panties in front of you. “It’s the second time this month.”

Or was it the third?

But, alas, standing around in your bedroom on a Sunday night does not give you the answers. Or any extra underwear.

Which is why you find yourself making a beeline for the bathroom - teeth gritted, stomach flipping at how very, very exposed you felt underneath the thin fabric of your shorts. Cursing everything from the building’s rundown old washing machine to Gojo’s stupid smile when he took away your laundry basket.

You could’ve sworn you saw your last pair perched right on top of your pile of old clothes, all flimsy and an obscene red that stood out amongst everything else.

Seriously, how hard would it have been to lose that thing? Maybe you could bother him into buying a new washing machine for-

“Woah there-” Before you know it, you’re crashing face-first into a wall? Pillows? Gojo - unfairly shirtless. “Now, what’s got your panties in a twist, sweetheart?”

The lack thereof.

Maybe because you can’t say that, maybe because of what looks - feels - like miles upon miles of milky, sculpted skin, you’re instead settling for an extremely eloquent, “Nothing I uh-” But whatever excuse catches in your chest as you raise your face - still smushed between two large pecs - up, up, up and-

Oh.

It’s not like you’re seeing something new - far from it, actually, unfortunately for your poor heart.

And at first, you’d thought it was some strange habit - hell, maybe the guy just didn’t like t-shirts. But it was around the fourth or fifth time he’d forgone one that you realized Gojo Satoru was just a tease. A no-good, insufferably smug tease that just loved to catch you ogling him.

But, well, at least the rent was cheap.

Though, you weren’t exactly complaining about the view either…

Because lo and behold stood the infamous campus sweetheart - you knew about fourteen people who’d kill to see this exact sight. Gojo’s cloudy hair tousled, tiny droplets of water twinkling like diamonds against the bathroom light. Bouncing off his rippling abs, his strong arms circling your waist to stop you from falling backwards. Holding you too fucking close against the white towel slung low on his hips. His skin damp, smelling so delicious-

“Gojo, did you use my body lotion?”

“Awww–” he whines, finally releasing his grip on you. “You were supposed to admire me some more.”

You scoff, eyes darting over broad shoulders - partially to search for your laundry basket, partially because you really couldn’t handle looking right at a shirtless Gojo Satoru any longer. “As if. Get out if you’re done.”

“Damn, woman. Feisty.” Gojo lets out a deep chuckle - smooth and cocky - when you’re hastily shoving him away from the doorframe. “If you wanted to put your hands on me that bad then you jus’ hafta ask, y’know~”

It was way too late for this.

“Hilarious.” you deadpan, though you let go of where you were gripping Gojo’s arm like it burned. Immediately stepping behind the bathroom door before he could make you lose whatever’s left of your sanity, “Next time you hog the bathroom m’gonna smash those ugly new sunglasses of yours.”

He’s pressing his foot between that gap in the door to stop you from closing it, “Oi, don’t think I don’t see that glint in your eyes, sweetheart.” Yeah, the glint in your eyes that told you if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under already. Which only makes him grin wider, “You’re telling me you really weren’t checkin’ out the most sought-after man on campus jus’ now?”

Huffing in frustration, you cross your arms, “I don’t see Geto Suguru anywhere.”

“...you take that back right now. I’m the pretty best friend.”

“Am not.”

“Am too.”

“Am not. Isn’t that why you’re still single?”

“Th-that’s not- fuckin’ Suguru? Really? Most people would kill for a look of this-” Gojo gestures at his bare torso, and once more you’re reminded that those absolutely awful protein shakes he makes every morning aren’t just for show. “-and you’re getting it daily.”

You reach out a hand, Gojo chest hot underneath your touch. He seizes up instantly, ears tinging red as you muse, “Yeah.” Only to push him fully out the doorway, “I just wish you’d shut up daily, too.”

With that, you’re shutting the door with a resounding slam! Feeling only slightly guilty until you hear Gojo’s squawks of protest from outside, “I really don’t know what’s got your panties in a twist.”

Right. Panties.

Something just a tad more important than recounting exactly how many abs Gojo Satoru had.

You let out a shuddering breath, clamoring to find that spare laundry basket you’d forgotten in here earlier today. Shuffling through through the soft clothes, hoping, praying to find-

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Fuck.

Somehow, you’re hiding away your body lotion that night.

---

“Now, listen here, sweetheart. I know you look fuckin’ gorgeous in everything but-”

“Satoru.”

“But that-” he whirls around, pointing a long finger accusingly at the boxers you’d improvised into sleep shorts. Spitting venomously, “-that I cannot allow.”

You’re rolling your eyes at your roommate’s theatrics, forking through your pancakes while he monologues to himself more than you. “Why does it even matter? It was just for yesterday.” you mutter. “I didn’t have any clean uh- panties for the night n’ this worked.”

Thankfully, since the fresh laundry this morning, you’d found two more of your panties - courtesy of a very smug Gojo handing off your clothes. Ah, it felt like the universe itself was smiling down on you.

But oh if you thought the great Gojo Satoru was having a breakdown before then you weren’t prepared for when you lifted your gaze off the kitchen table. Only to meet his - eyes wide, a pretty pink blush coloring his cheeks, lips gawking and stuttering around what looked like a silent, “P-panties-”

You raise a brow, “What’s got you this worked up, Gojo?”

“Nothing.” he clears his throat, “Absolutely nothing at all. Panties? I love- er, wait no-”

“B-besides-” you bristle at the way his heavy gaze was now turning to flit between your face and down below. Dangerously. “They’re not even yours so I don’t know why it matters.”

This seems to snap him out of his little reverie, and he’s immediately standing up straighter, brows furrowing. He continues, in a much more serious tone than before, “They’re his?”

You stab your breakfast with a bit too much vitriol than necessary, looking at Gojo with narrowed eyes, “If you mean the one my ex left behind then yes. Who else?”

Your ex wasn’t good for much - and Gojo seemed especially hostile towards him because of his distaste for your little living situation. But, hey, at least the guy was helping you out at this time. Albeit unknowingly.

He’s raising his hands in mock-surrender, shuffling back into the kitchen to work on the rest of those “world famous” Gojo pancakes. “Nothing nothing.” he hums, and maybe it was how sleep-deprived you were - running on a few too many assignments due today and a few too little panties - but you think Gojo’s voice has a bit more bite to it than usual. Jaw clenching as he plows on, “Of course that fucker- in my- our apartment, too. Fuck-”

A spatula is suddenly mere inches from your face, Gojo brandishing it in front of you like a weapon as he declares, “We’re going panty-shopping after Yaga’s lecture today.”

“Gojo, I-”

“We-” he cuts you off, delicately placing another pancake on your plate - a little truce. So close now that it reminds you of last night - you could feel his minty breath on your face, count every long, sultry eyelash of his. “-are going panty-shopping after Yaga’s lecture n’ I’m paying. That’s final.”

And of course, in true Gojo fashion, you can barely get a word out before he’d immediately ducking out of the kitchen. You almost let your lips curl into a smile, hit with a sudden wave of endearment as you hear Gojo’s long legs padding urgently down the hallway to God-knows-where. Maybe he did know when to be-

Smack!

You jolt as you’re hit with a pair of boxers - fresh ones, thankfully, that you recognized from all the clothes you’d rummaged through last night - plopped unceremoniously onto your lap. Jaw dropping in disbelief when you look up to meet Gojo’s devilish grin.

“Next time-” he winks, motioning at the fabric you were poking in concern now. “-wear mine.”

The talk of Yaga’s lecture hall that morning was of a pair of burned boxers found right outside your building, everyone speculating what the poor guy had done to have his presumed girlfriend make an example of it like that.

For you, however, the only thing running through your mind was whether or not you could count properly.

Because surely you remembered it correctly when you counted two new underwear this morning - that gauzy black one and the deep red? Two. Definitely not the singular, sad piece of red fabric laying on your bed after breakfast today? Two. The only one you could find even after scouring through your whole bedroom.

So where the fuck had that other one gone?

---

(8+ new messages)

Do not answer (roomie)🧿🧿: Hurry up ive been lurking inside that lingerie shop ya told me you liked n’ now the old ladies here look like they wanna eat me alive ＼(º □ º l|l)/

im boooored, gonna stand still n’ start blending in with these mannequins if you dont hurry up istg

Hurry

HURRY

HURRY THEY THINK IM SUSPICIOUS

PLEASE THEYRE GONNA ESCORT ME OUT

┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ i literally SEE YOU outside

BITCH STOP LAUGHING-

No sooner are you letting out a cackle at Gojo’s rapid-fire texts, you’re looking up to see the man himself being walked outside by two security guards. Squabbling heatedly in a way that had them heaving out long sighs - which, honestly, you felt a stab of relatable empathy for.

“-I swear I’m not a creep I’m jus’-” Gojo’s bickering dies on his tongue as he catches the sight of you walking closer to the commotion. Closer. Taking your sweet sweet time, eyes just barely glazing over him before- you’re walking away. “Hey!” he calls out, stopping you in your tracks. “Now, don’t you dare-” Before turning back to his wary escorts, “I’m with her.”

They exchange a look between each other, and no matter how much you’d like to pretend the scene had absolutely nothing to do with you - you’d rather Gojo doesn’t get banned from the mall altogether.

“He’s right.” you drone out, one hand grabbing Gojo’s, the other forcing his head into an apologetic bow. Hissing to the side so that only he would hear, “Unfortunately.”

The two security guards now seem more amused than anything at your strange dynamic. One of them raises a brow, muttering, “Well…this one’s certainly a handful.” Turning around to head back to their stations, “Ya better keep a tight leash on your boyfriend.”

You sputter, eyes wide, “Oh- he’s not-”

But it’s too late - they’re both swiftly out of earshot, most likely more than happy to hand over the public nuisance off to you. And Gojo’s looking to you with a smug smirk, voice dropping about an octave deeper as he breathes against your ear, “So, gonna take your boyfriend to help out with lingerie shopping, sweetheart?”

Oh. God.

This was going to be one long day.

“I’m only here because another one of mine disappeared, y’know.” you hiss, rifling through all the options before you. “Which really has me wondering why-”

“H-hey! How about this one?” Gojo interrupts, shoving a lacy set right in front of your face, his voice just a bit louder than what was appropriate.

You sigh, catching the eyes of a few disapproving older women around you. “No this is-” But running a thumb over the fabric makes you bite back an insult. And for all how brash Gojo was, maybe his panty selection wasn’t awful. It was a flimsy little thing, gauzy and light blue - the type you’d typically wear on a night out. You meet his boyish grin, admitting, “...not bad.”

“See?” he laughs - eyes glinting with delight as he piles on a few more in your basket. “N’ if you’re impressed with that then you’re gonna be proposing to me when you realize it’s exactly your size-”

You quirk a brow, “How do you know my size, Gojo?”

And this makes his body stiffen, large shoulders squaring up, throat bobbing as he answers,“Uh? Experience?”

Oh, right. You’re rolling your eyes, fighting off a weird little stab of irritation. This probably isn’t the first time he’s come here with a girl, anyway.

And yet, despite however much of an alleged “catch” Gojo was, he’d - perhaps mercifully - never brought anyone over. You don’t know why, but you didn’t really want to question it.

“A-anyway.” Gojo’s airy voice cuts through your thoughts. And he’s plucking up a few more sets of lingerie for you to sort through, “Can’t let these one, two, three- six lovely lil’ things go to waste now, can we?” At your look of confusion, he chuckles, guiding the two of you to the counter now. “Suguru’s holding a party at his place tonight, how would you like to do the honors of being my cute plus one?”

“I’d rather go with Yaga.”

Though, you really can’t say no - not when Gojo’s flashing you that black card as he pays for everything in an instant. Not when all he can prattle about on the way home is how gorgeous you’d look together at Geto’s party - how you’ll have to beat everyone off of him with a stick (to which you reply that you’d no sooner do that than beat him with a stick.)

Not when he sits outside your bedroom door as you get ready later that night. Insisting on keeping you company even as you slip out of your towel. Looking over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t peeking in before eagerly turning to grab at one of your new set of silky white panties- only, they weren’t there.

Strange.

“Hey, Gojo…” you call out, looking underneath your blankets for where you might’ve thrown them about after trying them on. Under your bed, in your drawers, anywhere. “-didn’t we buy six sets?”

“Huh? Dunno, I didn’t count. Just wear the blue one.” he whines, ushering you to hurry up from outside. Face burning because shit, this was you and you were inside - still wrapped up in only that sinful little towel. Oh, would the painful death really be worth it if he happened to accidentally look around? “S’pretty and y’know what else?”

Your voice was muffled as you hastily put on your clothes, “What?”

“It matches my eyes.”

Really strange.

---

Thankfully for Gojo, you didn’t go with Yaga to the party - nor did you find your lost pair of panties, sadly, but that wasn’t too much of a concern for him.

And here he was - one hurried Uber ride and about several billion death threats from you later. Wishing that you’d actually just acted on one of them because fuck at least then he wouldn’t have to be watching from across the room as some bastard from the university basketball team tried to chat you up.

Gojo can’t even hear the way the girls surrounding him were giggling about something or the other, alcohol making his tongue a little heavier, eyes a bit glassier.

Nothing like the way that other man was drinking in that polite smile on your face. Tilting your head to face forwards and- God, why won’t you just look at him instead?

Would that guy still look at you that way if he knew you were wearing lingerie matching his eyes right now?

“Not gonna entertain your fans?” Geto’s voice rings through his whirlwind thoughts, eyeing down the forgotten crowd in amusement.

“When have I ever?” Gojo runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

He lets out a knowing laugh, “Yeah, you little vir-” Turning into a coughing fit when Gojo elbows his best friend straight in his stomach. “Anyways.” Geto gestures with his drink in your direction, as if Gojo hadn’t seen - as if it wasn’t the only thing on his mind right now. “Well, your lil’ roomie there seems to be popular, too, huh? Star player of the basketball team n’ all.

He clicks his tongue, slumping further against the thumping wall. “So? I’m taller, and more handsome.”

“Are you sure ‘bout that?”

“Y-yeah?” he sputters.

“Well then why aren’t you over there with her?” Geto hums, lips curling. “Looks t’me like even she doesn’t like him that much so why’re you being a pussy over here? Always sneaking around stealing her-”

“Shut up-” And Gojo knows he’s riling him up, he knows that Geto wants to see a little drama - maybe finally shut up his pining over the one girl he’s wanted for the past year - and couldn’t have. It’s a trap. But Gojo can’t stop his head from snapping between you and his best friend’s sly smirk. Slurring indignantly, “Of course I’m fuckin’ handsome, n’ taller. I’d make a better boyfriend too and-” He trails off at the sight of that loser leaning in - but more importantly that tiny furrow in your brows, your hands on his chest softly keeping him at bay. “-and m’gonna go over there n’ prove it.”

“Ah, that loser’s gonna thank me later.”

And, hell, Gojo could barely even walk. Barely even think straight as he’s parting the stuffy living room, ignoring whatever whispers and titters were following him.

“I said no-”

“Hey, sweetheart.” you jump when someone - Gojo - creeps up from behind you. Large build hanging off your own when he nuzzles his face into your neck. And you could feel his toothy grin on your skin, “Missed me?”

Your face burns, “I uh-” Angling your face as dignifiedly as possible to face your roommate, “Gojo, are you drunk?”

“Drunk on you, yes.”

“What the-”

The man in front of you pipes up - shuffling uncomfortably on his feet. “Didn’t realize you were taken. My bad.” Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but under the scrutiny of Gojo Satoru. His big arms tightening around your middle - when did they even get there? “I’ll just uh- get out of your way, man.”

“Mhm, by the way,” Gojo puffs up his chest a bit, clearly towering over the other man - ha, take that Suguru. “Nice loss against Kyoto last week, real knee-jerker.”

You smack Gojo’s chest at his rudeness, to which he only smiles wider. Watching the other man being swiftly handled away by another apologetic member of the basketball team.

“Gojo.”

And before you can react, Gojo’s dragging his pretty plump lips along where that light blue band of your bra was just peeking out, murmuring lowly, “Love it when you scold me like that.” Still refusing to let go of you despite the jealous looks thrown your way, “Let’s go home, my girl.”

Oh, the look on your face was priceless.

He just wished he could fish out his phone and record, or maybe even tell Geto to take a picture - help him make it his wallpaper. And he did - over fifteen times, in fact, as the two of you helped drag him away from the thrumming party. Geto doesn’t listen, of course, and you neither do you - grumbling out a slew of profanities underneath your breath that makes the Uber driver look at the two of you weird.

And yet, Gojo’s biggest issue right now was trying to climb up these fucking stairs - not when they were trying to run away from him.

“I swear to God, Gojo-” you huff, chest heaving under the weight of walking - well, more like dragging - your roommate up to your apartment. Knees wobbly - maybe at the intensity of his cologne, maybe at the way his biceps were flexing on your shoulders, probably at how fucking useless he was. Damn lightweight. “You better cover my rent for the next year for this.”

“Of course I will~” his hot breath tickles your ear, “Anything for m’girl. I’ll take care of us forever, don't you worry your pretty lil’ head.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny the way your heart clenches - just a little bit. And if you’re slamming open Gojo’s bedroom door with a little more force than necessary, well, at least he’s a bit too impaired to nag at you about it.

He bounces lightly when you throw him on his plush mattress, giggling softly, “You should just join me, y’know. Have a little sleepover.”

“Drop dead.” you monotone, not even daring to look back at him while you shuffle through Gojo’s shirts. Throwing one over your shoulder at him, “N’ wear this, I just know you’ll complain about messing up your favorite button-up tomorrow morning.”

“Aww, you always take care of me so well, my girl~”

That familiar little nickname makes a shiver run down your spine, and it’s all you can do to concentrate on shuffling through Gojo’s drawers in search of his shorts. Absent-mindedly reaching for the lowest drawer and-

“Wait!”

You jump, whirling around to catch Gojo sitting up ram-rod straight on the bed, eyes wide, hand reaching out as if to stop you. Swallowing thickly, you ask. “Gojo?”

And he jolts - like the very sound of your voice is sending electricity zapping through his veins. Abruptly scrambling off the bed before resting two hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you away from the drawer. “My shorts are uh- in my wardrobe, heh. Sorry about that.”

Furrowing your brows at the sudden twist, you squirm in his grasp to look at the drawer again. Failing - when Gojo keeps his grip steadfast, “Why’re you acting so-”

“How about we order take out? My treat?”

And that night, tucking yourself into bed, you should be falling asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. You should be caring less about that strange little outburst of Gojo’s inside his room. You should have realized sooner - those light blue panties you’d worn tonight were gone. No longer in your hamper of old clothes.

And there was only one thing to do.

---

Gojo thinks he shouldn’t - fuck he knows he shouldn’t. He doesn’t even want to- well, that last bit was a lie.

Gojo Satoru first met you about a year ago, when you’d come knocking at his door asking about his ad for a roommate. It was more because he was bored inside this big apartment by himself than anything, really, but here you were all gorgeous and sweet, flashing him a smile that was burned into his mind for the rest of the week, at the very minimum. How could he ever say no?

And when you’d taken to walking around the apartment in those slutty lil’ shorts as a way to get back at his perpetual shirtless-ness? Thin panties just peeping out of the low hem?

God, it was everything he could do to not run to the bathroom with each little glimpse. He was fucked, so very embarrassingly fucked.

He just never thought it would get to this point - the first time had been an accident, honestly. When your laundry had gotten mixed up with his. Surely he didn’t remember having such a cute pair of pink panties in his closet? And surely it didn’t mean anything if he just-so-happened to stash them away, right?

At least, that’s what Gojo told himself the first time. And the second. And the third. And shit, it was a bit of an addiction now, and within a year of rooming with you, he’d accumulated a drawer stuffed guiltily with exactly what he shouldn’t be having.

Gojo Satoru - insufferable campus sweetheart, the dreamy first place on everyone’s To-Fuck list - had been hoarding away your pretty panties. Like the pathetic virgin he pretends he isn’t.

And so here he was - that dirty little drawer flung open, pants pulled down just enough, one hand flat on the flat surface to steady himself, while the other fisted desperately around his swollen cock - and one of your panties.

“F-fuck, sweetheart.” he’s hissing, body shuddering in lewd little tremors at that torturous drag of fabric down his length. Squeezing at his thick base, moving fast - filthy up, up, up to thumb along the end of his sopping slit. “Feels s’good- too fucking good hngh-”

Such a pretty, wet gasp escapes him when your soaked, absolutely ruined underwear catches on his veins, tangling around his sensitive shaft. And he’s biting his lip, trying not to make a noise when he threads through the mess down below.

“Oh fuck, yer killin’ me even when you’re ngh- not here.” he breathes unsteadily, weaving the sticky fabric around his long fingers. Tight - just how he knew you would. “S’like you know what you do t’me with these.”

They were your blue ones, this time - the ones from just last night. The ones you were wearing not even a full day ago. And Gojo has them wrapped daintily around his rock-hard cock, stark against the blushing red at his fat head. Already so drenched in precum as he fucks his fist.

“Y’looked so p-pretty with these, sweetheart.” he groans over the wet fwip! fwip! fwip! Eyes rolling to the back of his head with each long, feverish stroke. “So pretty being mine. Ngh- so pretty in my- fuck.”

Slam!

He’s hitting his palm facedown on the wood, knees buckling, eyes scrunching shut with pleasure.

And that ruined, utterly depraved part of Gojo wonders whether next time he should steal your bras too? Have the full set of you proudly wearing his color like some secret little slut for him.

He’s letting out a ragged little laugh, oh how cute you’d look all confused. Nipples hard through your flimsy excuse of a t-shirt while you looked around for them. While you asked him for help.

Oh, just the thought of that has Gojo’s red, furious cock beading glossy drops of precum at his tip. Leaking a sinful, slippery sheen down his wrist. “Ah.” he lets out a guttural groan when his angry dick twitches in his hand, falling onto his elbow on the drawer. Not having the strength - or the sanity - to keep himself up anymore. “Look what you’ve-” Gojo’s eyes catch sight of a flash of red inside, sounding so wrecked. “Look what you’ve done.”

And those obscene red panties are snatched up by his free hand in a second, not even a second wasted before Gojo’s bringing them up to his face.

Fuck.

“Look what you’ve done. Look how ngh- filthy you’ve made me.” he whines, muffled. Hips fucking up in quick, uncontrollable little thrusts into his closed fist. Voice a pitch higher as he spits out embarrassing little accusations, “How pathetic. Gettin’ fuck- gettin’ off to this? Me of all hah- people like this? Can’t imagine how f-fucking mad you’d be.”

Would you figure out it was him? Would you look in his drawer again? Teach him a lesson or two about being such a pathetic little pervert for his roommate.

Maybe - just maybe - if Gojo plays his cards right, gets on his knees and begs for mercy, then you’d let him keep his little treasure.

He throws his head back in a humorless little laugh when his aching hand slows down to languid, unforgivable tugs. He had time, anyway, your classes ended late today. Torturous - exactly the way he imagines you’d drive him mad. “Heh- wish this was you.”

You’d be so much meaner, pressing down on that little divot at his tip, flicking teasingly like you were trying to fuck out something delicious. You’d be running your nails down his achy veins, running your soft palms around his painful balls.

You’d whisper, “This all you got, Toru?”

“Oh fuck!” Gojo moans, raspy little sounds of what sounds like your name filtering through the crevices of his fingers, your panties. “Fuck fuck fuck- gonna cum.” he whines. Heavy balls smacking back into his thighs with each thrust into your imaginary hand. How he wished you were here. He’s managing to wrench his eyes open to spy down at his sloppy cock - needing to see how your cute lil’ panties would look painted all white for him. How he wished you- “Gonna-”

Oh. Fuck.

You.

“Aw, why stop now, Gojo?”

You’re leaning against Gojo’s open bedroom door, flashing him such a sultry little smirk. Your voice almost a purr when you echo, “I said…” Before taking two long steps to where he stood frozen, “Why stop now?”

Gojo lets the damp fabric held up to his face drop in guilt - yet the other stays firmly wrapped around that hand cock of his still in hand.

“S-sweetheart what are you- why-” And perhaps for the first time in the twenty-something years that Gojo Satoru has terrorized this planet, he’s speechless. Worry-bitten lips sagging open stupidly, “I- this is-”

You cut him off, “So you’re the panty thief.” So close now that Gojo’s dick was throbbing at each heave of your chest, the way you were squeezing your thighs together. Eyes sliding down his body to rest at the mangled mess of your all-new panties around his painfully hard cock. “I knew it.”

“I can explain-”

“All those times pretending to help me?” you bat your lashes in a way that makes him gulp. Words dripping with the same tease he’d imagined in daydreams just like this. “When you were the pervert stealing my panties? Are you even ashamed?”

Gojo flushes an innocent pink, excuses tumbling out of those pretty lips immediately. But they sound like lies even to him.

“This- ngh-” he’s rolling his hips forward when you slide a smaller finger down his arm, between his pecs, almost the way down to those tufts of white. “Fuuuck- y-you’re not mad? Are ya the devil herself cuz you’re gonna- ngh- kill me this way.”

Humming, “Class was canceled, but of course - don’t hah- stop on my account, Gojo.”

“Toru.” he’s gasping out, a low moan wrenching out of him when he’s bowing his body into his fist again. Squeezing - almost warningly - at his hilt. “C-call me Toru. Please.”

And fuck he could’ve cum right then and there at that devilish little smile you give him, biting down on your lower lip - inches from his that it felt like you were biting down on his. Maybe you were, shit Gojo didn’t even know right now.

“Toru.”

That’s all it takes for Gojo’s lips to be crashing onto yours. Biting back a little whimper at the messy clash of teeth, of spit, because one taste of your candied lips and he was already so addicted.

“Mmpf-” Gojo gasps, chasing hotly after your lips. Eyes half-lidded to watch the snapping of those delicate strings of saliva, “You’re- you’re so-” And he’s way too impatient to get out his words, licking heatedly at the slit of your mouth. Over and over and over- “As bad as me- ngh-”

“Are ya sure about that?” you grin, cunt clenching at your roommate’s pained grunt when you pull away. “Because look-”

And the both of you are stuck on the way Gojo’s moving again, hips fucking up in jagged, mindless little grinds. Like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Like he didn’t even feel the way his leaky tip was smearing along the front of your sinfully short skirt.

“Can’t help it.” he whines, kissing down your neck. Hips urging forwards to slip up the thigh-length fabric, and when you don’t pull away, Gojo drags your skirt up, up, up with his pulsing length, “You don’t know what you do to me- fuck.”

His jaw falls slack, ogling at the sight of your pretty pussy on full display for him. Already so glossy with your sweet sweet juices, needy between your restless thighs. Bare.

And this might be the first time he’s seen a cunt in real life but Gojo already knows - he already feels - that she’s gonna be the death of him.

Sharp teeth nip at your bottom lip, tugging. “What the fuck-” Gojo breathes - more to himself than anything. “What the fuck what the-” Bringing down his free hand to run the pads of his long fingers along your puffy folds, as if to confirm whether this was real. “-fuck! Going out like this? You’re even dirtier than me, huh?.”

“What can I do?” Sliding your arms around his broad shoulders, palms running along the heated skin. Back arching to grind down on his hand, “Someone stole all my panties.”

Your words fall on deaf ears, because Gojo doesn’t hesitate for even a second before he’s bringing his dripping wet fingers up to his lips. Smoldering eyes looking right into yours when he pops them in his mouth. Sucking them dry.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.”

In a split second, you’re being splayed out on Gojo’s king-sized bed like such a slut. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw. And it happens so fast that you almost think you’re seeing things - but, no, the way you’re bouncing against the silky sheets was real. Your skirt bunching up at your waist was real.

Gojo’s hazy gaze getting stuck right at the spot between your legs was real.

“Shiiiit.” he murmurs, low and gravelly, like he’s moving through molasses. Stalking towards your trembling figure as if hypnotized, “Oh, she looks even prettier this way.”

You shuffle in embarrassment, pressing your thighs together, “Toru-”

But he doesn’t hear you, instantly scrambling onto the bed. “No- no no no no no-” Just wrenching your legs apart with his hands. “No, you don’t get to hide th-this from me, you don’ know how long I’ve waited for this. How much I’ve imagined-”

You’re gasping when he runs the tip of his index between your sopping wet slit, coating his fingers in your juices once more. Teasing. “N’ so wet. This all f’me? God, can’t even- ngh-”

“So eager.” you mumble, fingers threading through Gojo’s soft locks to pull him in so close. To drag him towards where you needed him the most. “Why don’t you jus’ shut up- N’ put that big mouth of yours into use somewhere else?”

His eyes widen, words a whisper, “C-can I?” He doesn’t wait for your response before flipping the two of you so easily. Having you toppling precariously on his lap now, “Can I really? Never done this before.”

Never?

It’s not before he lets out a shy huff, that you realize that you said that out loud. “So what? S’that bad?” Two large hands groping and kneading your ass to keep you in place, “Ya didn’t actually ngh- believe all those stories on campus, did ya?”

Squirming at the feeling of his massive girth rubbing up against your swollen folds, “D-doesn’t matter.” You grit out, “You can…”

And no sooner are you seeing Gojo’s megawatt smile, you’re already feeling it between your thighs. Being wrestled up like some glorified ragdoll, dragging your sloppy cunt all the way up to straddle Gojo’s pretty face.

“So, this is what she ngh- looks like.” he whines, hot breath lapping at your quivering pussy. “Shit, she’s so wet I could almost-” You’re gasping when the man below you simply sticks his awaiting tongue out, admiring your pussy while letting your syrupy sweet slick drip! drip! drip! down his throat. “This all f’me?”

The only thing you can give him right now is a needy little whine - which makes Gojo kiss the fat of your ass with a sharp smack! Biting his lip at the way it jiggles against his hand, “Tell me, where did my feisty girl go?”

That lewd little nickname has you scoffing in pathetic frustration, your grip searing on his scalp when you force his obscene mouth closer. “Y-you seriously need to-” Pulling, “-shut up, Toru.”

And oh, you’d played right into Gojo’s devilish hands. This was exactly what he wanted - to have his face stuffed between your limp legs, ready mouth meshing messily with the folds of your dripping cunt. “There she is.” he moans, the tip of his tongue slurping up the sloppy dredges of your slick. Carding between your pussy lips, “Oh- fuck there she is. Yeah use me like that- use me.”

He’s running his mouth a mile a minute and you wonder how. Because Gojo was lapping at your cunt so feverishly, everywhere - from your inner thighs, to your folds, to just around the circles of your sloppy entrance like he wanted to taste it all. And couldn’t decide where to go first.

“T-Toru.” you let out a honey sweet mewl of his name when the tip of his nose is rubbing against your clit. “There. Right there-”

Eyes rolling to the back of his head when he easily locates your sensitive nub. Wrapping those ruby lips around your clit to give an experimental suck.

Shit, he could almost pass out from how heavenly you look on top guiding him. Your entire body jolting with each roll of his hot tongue, giving him such a pretty view of your tits up your silky shirt. Just dragging your sloppy cunt all into his mouth when he toys with your pulsing clit.

“Oh fuck!” your hips are darting away with each zap of electricity sent down your spine.

Which, for Gojo - who’s only ever dared to dream up this moment on those lonely nights - isn’t enough.

“Know m’new to this, sweetheart, but stop bein’ nice n’ fuckin-” He’s pulling on the crease of your waist, dragging you to rest your entire weight on his face - his mouth. “-sit.” You’re keening when Gojo forces you to collapse on his soft tongue, bullying past your puffy folds and into that sloppy ring of muscle. Jus’ barely dipping past the resistance, “I said use me so fuckin’ use me. Don’ care if I can’t breathe - if I fucking suffocate- ngh- m’gonna die if you don’t just sit.”

“Fine.” You cry out when the curve of his tongue is molding into your gummy walls, pushing recklessly past. Not even fucking easing you into it before he’s fucking you on his tongue. Calculated, mean little thrusts in search of all your sweet spots. “No half-assing then, m’kay?”

Though, you had the feeling that he would do anything but.

“Good, now keep still.” he’s scolding, one hand starting up again in those slow, satisfied tugs on his length. “Please keep still.” And the other dancing between your legs to push a finger inside your snug cunt. “Mmm it’s a tight fit, can feel ya clenching around me. Ngh- always wondered how it’d feel- where that would be.”

Blinking away the haze in your eyes, you look down at where Gojo was already locked on you, “Th-that?”

“That.” he breathes into your cunt, voice reverent as he speeds up. “S’your pussy gonna tell me where your good spot is? Gonna help me ngh- learn?”

And to your embarrassment - and Gojo’s smug satisfaction, it only takes a few more hurried strokes of his tongue before he’s nudging against your g-spot. Both the texture of his tongue and his long, cold fingers curling to assault the poor bundle of nerves.

Your body bows deeper as if on auto-pilot, “Oh- fuck! You fucking- hngh”

He’s snickering at the way you’re so responsive, cock hard - and only swelling girthier in his fist with each adorable moan falling from your lips.

“Oh yeah? There? Ya like this?” he moans, “Ya like shutting up the ngh- p-pervert that steals your panties with your cunt?”

Getting faster. More attuned to his feral need.

Lips smacking in tempo with those obscene squelches, you can’t tear your eyes away from the way his cheeks hollow. Fingers still so rapid, moving to make out and toy so messily with you clit - untimed, sloppy but fuck did you love it.

“Y-yes.” you’re shoving his mouth guiltlessly deeper. Letting his long tongue explore every crevice and inch of you. Sloppier. So, so filthy. “Love it- fuck- you’re such a fast fucking learner.”

“I know.”

There was that cocky Gojo Satoru you were used to, lips curling into a strawberry pink smile around your clit - all glossy and sweet with a sheen of your slick. Making such a mess of the lower half of his face, his chin, shit, all the way down to his jaw.

“M’close-” you choke out at the sight, “M’so fuckin’ close- gonna- gonna cum on your tongue, Toru.”

“Look at you ruining me.” his words hit you hard on your sensitive cunt, sending shockwaves up your arched spine. Obscene little smacks of his lips following your barely-lucid mewls.“Absolutely defiling me. Are ya proud of nghhh fuck- yourself?”

It’s all you can do to manage out a strained, “Yes! Yes yes yes yes- God, m’so close, Toru/ Gonna cum m’gonna-”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming at first, just that you’re riding Gojo’s unfairly pretty face in harsh grinds - just the way he liked it. Jaw grinding against your cunt, chin hitting you with each slutty jerk of your hips, letting you use him all you want to ride through your high.

And his fingers are digging into your hips, stopping you from pulling away even when you were snow. Even when you’re sobbing in oversensitivity. So painfully good.

“Ngh- T-Toru–” you’re slurring out, his name thick on your tongue. “M’not gonna cum on your dick if you k-keep hah- acting this way.”

Only then does a pussydrunk Gojo Satoru raise his bleary eyes back up at you. Giving you a strained little grunt of acceptance, before parting ways with your pussy with a lingering, wet kiss on your clit. Barely-audible as he whispers, “Gonna see ya soon.”

You don’t have the time to think about his newfound addiction. Because in all of three seconds, he’s plopping you back down so prettily on his lap. Purposefully feeding your sopping wet slit his weeping red tip.

“Please.” Gojo’s usually-arrogant grin has fallen into such a pretty pout with one graze of his length sandwiched between your folds. “I did good, right? Please ngh- so I th-think if I made you cum then I get to hah- fuck you how I want.”

And it’s not that you didn’t appreciate it before - but looking at his thick tip pushing up against your cunt right now has you recognizing that shit, Gojo is massive.

Fat head blushing a pretty reddish, leaking so messily down, down, down those glistening veins at his side and to the creamy ring at his base - from when he’d cum, just from eating you out, you realize with a jolt. His girth so intimidatingly thick, long enough that you know you won’t be walking for a week straight, at least. All throbbing and angry with every second he isn’t buried to the hilt inside your cunt.

Gojo Satoru is massive.

“Like what ya see?” he echoes your thoughts, a soaked thumb coming down to pry apart your glossy folds. Grinning at the way your hole was already so needy and clenching around nothing. “Think m’the ngh- perfect size for this pretty pussy?”

Through it all, you find it in yourself to muse, “Only one way to find out. Gonna let me be your first, Toru?”

And then he’s pushing in, shallow, high little gasps bursting from his lips with each inch being bullied into your plush cunt.

“O-oh fuck-” Gojo can’t stop himself from taking a good look at the way your pussy lips are bulging around him. Jaw dropping at the way your greedy entrance is only sucking him up more and more - trying to bite off more than you can chew with the way he was in so deep but barely even halfway in yet. “S’too good- oh my god- fuck I think m’gonna die. Is it s’pposed to feel th-this good?”

You’re running a hand gingerly through Gojo’s mussed-up hair, smoothing down the sides sticking up where you’d been pulling on it. “S’alright, Toru.” you soothe, letting him grind up into you. Trying to fit more - all of it. “You’ve got it- you’ve hah-”

You let out a pathetic little whine when his tip kisses your cervix, legs flexing around his toned waist.

“Oh- ohhh fuck-” he’s barely able to string together coherent sentences now. Eyes falling till their half-lidded, body moving before his mind when he pulls yours stuck to his. “S-soo good n’ I haven’t even- oh!” His voice goes a few octaves higher when Gojo finally starts moving. “How can- it feel this good, hng-”

And shit for being inexperienced, he was fucking up into you so mean. Just in short little thrusts up like he was trying to fuck you even deeper - trying to squeeze inside more of himself impossibly.

“Some- ah- some more, Toru-”

He listens, and the stretch - fuck. Gojo wasn’t even trying yet, but his girth was already massaging your gummy walls so dizzyingly good.

“Y-you’re so- ngh-” you graze your lips across his in what can barely be called a kiss. Too messy. Too depraved. “-so deep.” Sliding a hand about midway down your stomach to press down, “Can feel you all the way in here.”

Your words are sticking to Gojo like a second skin, driving him so fucking mad. Hips smacking up into you deep until his heavy balls were slapping your ass, sculpted pelvis crashing into yours.

“Stop talking.“ he spits, “Stop talking stop talking stop- talking.” Each word is punctuated by a desperate, messy stroke. Pushing you further and further up Gojo’s body from the obscene impact. “Stop hah- talking or m’gonna cum.”

He wasn’t lying - you could already feel the twitch of Gojo’ length rubbing up against your hidden sweet spots. The furious throbbing of his veins stretching out your elastic walls.

And yet you’re still wailing stubbornly, “B-but Toru it feels so good.” Partially truth, partially because when the fuck do you get to see him so utterly wrecked like this. Sanity dancing away from him with each syrupy moan leaving your mouth, “Your cock is too good- ngh- feels-”

“Shut up.”

Gojo can only take that much of your nonsense before he’s stuffing your mean mouth full with a flimsy piece of fabric from somewhere on the bed- no. A strangely familiar pair of panties.

“Heh, s’much ohhh fuck- better.” he beams with pride when you’re gagging and tearing up so adorably around the light blue fabric. Ramming his cock up harder - stronger, as if daring you to make a little comment about it. “Should’ve ah fuck- known you wouldn’t make it easy f’me.”

As if to prove his point, he gives your ravaged clit a little smack! before teasing and rolling his thumb exactly the way you’d taught him to with his tongue.

And he’s scrambling to sit up, carrying your boneless body with him.

The new angle has Gojo seeing stars, penetrating your gummy walls deeper, hitting that familiar g-spot he’s mapped out by now. “Here?” he manages to cackle, a big arm wrapping around your waist. “Right here? S’my cock hitting th-that ngh- good spot? Yer pussy is fuuuck so much easier to u-understand than I ah- thought.”

Reeling back to bounce you on his thick cock. Crashing into it again. And again and again and-

Since you can’t snap back - or even beg for more - you only let out muffled little moans through the gag in your mouth. Thighs burning as you push back in pathetic little thrusts to somehow meet Gojo’s mindless cadence.

“Oh yeah?” he drags, leaning back to help you ride him properly. “Yeah yeah do i-it hah- like that. Do it juuuust like that.” A harsh thumb rolls into your clit, making you stutter and grind yourself down messily. “Fuck- Yeah ruin me- ngh- just like that.”

His words were jagged - uneven. Spitting out of his plump lips like he didn’t even know they were every time Gojo’s fat, leaky tip was gliding across your cervix, your g-spot. Leaving possessive little bruises to claim you from the inside out.

“C-close.” you slur out, not even sure if he could hear over the dull slap of his balls on your ass, and the greedy squelches of your cunt. “More, Toru.”

Yet your sinful, sickly sweet noises have him freezing - if only for a split-second. Pussydrunk eyes going wide, jaw falling slack in such awe.

But before you can fully appreciate this sight, he’s starting back his depraved thrusts again. Bouncing you harder - faster. Just dragging you along every ridge and bump of his swollen cock. Fingers just a needy blur toying with your poor clit.

“M-more?” he whines into the crook of your neck, voice breaking at the end. “More. More?” He speaks up, like a mantra. Each word sending you spiraling down Gojo’s merciless cock, Panting, “Ever since you fuck- started rooming w’me, wanted this- wanted you to hah- be my first.” Holding you in such a vice-like grip as he splits you apart on his aching cock. Harder. “You’ve ruined me-” he spits against your lips, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Don’ know how many times I’ve cum to your pretty panties. Ruined me- ruined me- fuck m’so close- ruined me.” Violent, even.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same.

And it’s only taking a few more unsteady jabs into your g-spot before a wave of euphoria is crashing over you. “Hngh-” you spasm in Gojo’s arms, his eyes going wide in wonder when your cunt squeezes him so fucking tight- only to-

“F-fuck!” he whines, connecting your lips to his. Kissing you even with your panties still stuffed into your mouth. And Gojo’s cumming and cumming so hard he doesn’t even think he’s breathing. Intertwining his tongue with yours to muffle his overstimulated moans, wrapping around your sweet slick-soaked panties in the middle. The contrast of his soft tongue with the lazy fabric of your panties only making you milk his poor cock harder. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck- fuck- Take it. Take it, my girl.”

You moan incoherently, going insane at the way he was filling you up with long, thick ropes of cum. Fucking deeper and deeper up into you to paint your plushy walls from the inside.

“S’all I’ve- ngh wanted.” he murmurs throatily, such a fucking mess now. Face flushed, eyes glassy with tears, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth with the way he was sucking lewdly on your tongue. “You’re all I-I’ve ever wanted.”

Shit, he hasn’t cum this hard in his life.

Finally having had enough of shutting up your smart mouth, Gojo slows down to deep little grinds - still moving. Still trying to hold back his moans at that creamy ring around his hilt, at the globs of seed trickling out of your poor overfilled pussy.

“Hah- Toru-” you whine when he pries away the fabric in your mouth. Shuddering with the swipe of his finger along your clit, “C-could almost ngh- forgive you…”

“The blue one.”

“What?” you’re staring at him in confusion, and Gojo’s fucked-out grin only spreads wider.

“That was for the b-blue one.” you gasp when his balls suddenly squeeze so painfully underneath you. Cock jerking in interest, “Y’gonna have me make up for that whole drawer full of panties, sweetheart?”

A/N. VIRGIN GOJO BRAIN ROT GOES BRRRRRRRR

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

11K notes · View notes

swordsandholly · 3 months

Text

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

cw: menstruation (not graphic), afab anatomy

Part 4: “Girl Problems”

You shift in the office chair, stomach lurching uncomfortably. It’s been bothering you today - groaning and moaning nonstop. So far you blamed it on the suspicious chicken salad you got from the discount grocery store. You took every stomach soother you could, all the way down to chugging tea on the hottest day of spring so far.

With a rather pathetic groan you stand to meander your way to the bathroom. Surely sitting on the pot will help - at least as a placebo. Just as you do, though, a very distinct wet feeling makes itself known. You freeze, briefly, as if it will go away if you stand still enough.

“Ah, fuck!” You gasp, grabbing your purse and jogging down the hall to the single bath stall and popping the lock shut.

As soon as you sit, you let out a small sigh of relief. At least you caught it before you turned your underwear into a total crime scene. You’d rather not have to explain to John why you need to go home and change. You dig through your bag to your usual pocket of various supplies. From lotion to a sewing kit. It never hurts to be prepared.

Except, as you rifle around, you’re not finding your usual stash. There should be at least three in here… when did-?

The very loud, distinct memory of a girl at a bar stopping you while canvassing for some sanitary products hits you like a train.

“Whatever you’ve got I’ll take.” She practically begged. So, you handed them all over because got forbid someone get stranded during the most hellish week of the month. Like you are now.

You make a deep, frustrated noise in your throat and bury your face in your hands. You’ve been meaning to put a basket of backup wipes, pads, and tampons in the little bathroom cabinet - not just for you but for customers, too. It just kept getting pushed off when you got busy with other things.

Shit. What are you gonna do? If you put your pants back on you’ll just bleed through them in ten minutes. Cursed with a heavy flow (or blessed with a strong connection to the moon, as your former hippie roommate insisted.) Less time than that, probably, based on the vicious cramp that travels from your lower back to pelvis. You won’t be able to get to the corner store with out leaving a war crime in your path.

John’s the only person in the studio right now. He doesn’t have a client for another hour or so but you’d rather die than tell your hot boss you’re bleeding everywhere. For a few, quiet moments, you violently bounce your knee and go through every possibility. Maybe you’ll suddenly turn into the flash and you can get home before anyone even notices. You don’t really have much of a choice, do you?

With another groan you pull your phone from your pocket, thumb hovering over his contact for just a few beats too long while you work up the courage.

>> ok so this is terrible

>> im so sorry

>> but im having girl problems and am stuck in the bathroom

>> im so sorry this is so unprofessional

Girl problems? What are you? In fucking middle school? Before you can send yet another in a long string of planned apologies, John answers.

J >> How can I help?

>> i dont have any products on me

>> meant to stock the bathroom

>> sorry

J >> Stop apologizing

J >> What kind do you use? I’ll go to the corner store up the street

You breathe out a sigh of relief, still nervously gnawing at your lip as you send him what you need with an example picture (just in case) and profusely insist you’ll pay him back. John refuses. You’ll just have to sneak the cash in his tips or something.

It isn’t long before you hear the front doorbell ring, heavy footsteps, then a gentle tap on the bathroom door. “Y’alright, love?”

You perk up. “John, I’m so sorry-“

“Didn’t ask if you were sorry. Asked if you were alright.”

You snort. “Yeah…”

“I’m goin’ to unlock the door to slide these in. No lookin’ I swear.” John says. As if you were worried about that. You trust John. More than maybe any other man you’ve known (not that the bar is very high.) It’s nice of him to say, though. The door barely cracks open, just enough for him to toss the box to you across the floor and shut it immediately. You barely even see his arm. “That all you need?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” You murmur, bending awkwardly and snatching up the box. “I’m really sorry. I know it’s not really… appropriate.”

“Love, it’s normal. It happens. Just get y’self situated.” John taps the door once before you hear his footsteps drift down the hall toward the front.

You feel a bit skittish the rest of the day. You know it’s stupid. John’s a grown man and it’s a natural thing that happens and it’s fine. He said it’s fine. If it wasn’t fine you probably wouldn’t still look up to him the way that you do - the way that you have since you came here. The way everyone else seems to. Even so, you step around him a little wider than usual on your way out - keeping your head hung low and both hands tightly gripping your purse.

You chew your lip, shifting in place as he locks the front door. “Look, John, I-“

“If you apologize again I’m gonna fire you.” John mutters, pulling on the door to make sure it’s properly secured. There’s humor in it, though, the corners of his lips quirked up slightly.

You scoff, still not quite able to meet his eye.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” When you don’t move fast enough, apparently, he tilts your head up with a light touch. His eyes are so warm despite their icy blue shade. Sparkly in the setting sun. “Any man worth his breath wouldn’t give a shite. I’m sorry if that hasn’t been your experience, but really, it’s fine. I’ll help you out a thousand times over if y’need.”

“Okay…” You murmur, suddenly very distracted by the feeling of his fingers touching your chin, light as is it. You pull away and clear your throat, hoping he doesn’t notice the growing heat in your cheeks. “Well, uh, see you tomorrow, then.”

John nods, still smiling. “Sleep well, dove.”

When you come in the next day, you expect to get teased. A snide comment or a sideways look. You would have at any other job you’d worked - especially one with all men. All giggling and poking at you like a bear they know can’t bite back. No one says a thing outside of their usual greetings when you make your way to the front desk, though. Johnny pinches your hip like normal, Simon greets you with his new pun of the day, Kyle gives you a distracted wave over the hum of his practice gun. John doesn’t bat an eye when he says hello and checks in about the plan for the day.

You open the bottom drawer that you usually tuck your purse into, pausing before you set it inside. At the bottom, neatly tied together with a piece of twine, sits a king size chocolate bar and a pack of Midol.

If John notices the way you become extra smiley after that discovery, he doesn’t comment.

A/N: This was very self-indulgent but I’m having a bad time over here and need to be saved.

2K notes · View notes

yandere-kokeshi · 7 months

Note

We need to know how separate TF-141 would be as house-husbands!!! Please!!!

— Yandere headcanons of TF-141 as house-husbands

Warnings: Yandere behavior, older! characters, male gender roles, NSFW, slight delusional behaviors.

A/N: Anon, you are SO, so smart. I love you /a.

Captain “Price” John:

The type of house-husband nobody expected for him to be– not even himself. John had partially agreed to it, and now he’s a stay-at-home dad for your cats. When he wedded you, he never thought of it this way; and now, he had promised to always care for you, did he not?

Price is well over-tired, pretty hairy and massive; beard scratchy and face all squishy; he’s a chubby man. But that doesn’t stop him at all.

John loves waking you up in the mornings. Before even shaking you awake, he loves to admire you. Watching your different breathing patterns, some dribbles of drool, and the obvious bed marks staining your face makes him smirk. But of course, it ends too short when he realizes you need to get up.

John is so, oh gentle, when waking you up. Scarred hands rubbing at your hips as he rubs his beard into your shoulder, prepping kisses and telling you to get a move on. However, if you ignore him, he’s more than happy to leave some permanent marks, yes?

He always makes your breakfast and lunch the night before, chopping the meat, fruits, and vegetables into the correct order so he can easily sleep in with you till you leave. So, when your alarm goes off, he detaches himself from you, getting up with only his red boxers– turning on the oven to preheat the food yet again and leaving them on the table for you to enjoy when you get out of the shower.

And with that, he takes your health seriously, mentally and physically, which means most foods in the house are pretty healthy. All types of fruits, veggies, protein, and fiber nourishment is given with each meal, and he expects you to eat it all.

When shopping, he takes everything seriously. He hates getting off track, only sticking to what’s on the list, and cashiers who take too long on talking– especially if they openly flirt with him. Can’t you see I'm taken? He snarks out, showing off his wedding ring before fast walking out towards his car with his hands full.

Chores are chores. They need to be done. Dishes are easy, laundry, and vacuuming are a piece of cake. But cleaning the bathroom? Oh, that’s a bit difficult. Especially with the hidden camera he’s put out of your sight, and at times, he gets distracted; watching the many films, seeing you all naked and wet, makes Price feel... a sudden urge. How are you just so gorgeous, hm?

John is the definition of a “Pro Loyalty Card”. For all those stores he visits, he has cards for each and every single one of them, including the convenience store. They always come in handy.

Routines are his specialty; he knows everything about your schedule, to the time you leave for work, to when you call him at your lunch break, come home and collapse in his lap, all the way to sleeping in the bed naked. He’s memorized it all.

After the long antagonizing and stressful week, John always sits you down for a long bath. He massages your shoulders, using a special lotion to rub on you after the bath. But, that’s not the only gift he's giving. Before gently and lovingly pushing you to the bed, he slowly fucks the stress and irritation of you; teeth makes ensuring you stay loyal to your man.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon is quick and sleek with shopping, getting and seeking foods that have high nutrition because you only deserve the best. Most foods he picks out are healthy, getting many baskets of fruits to ensure you enjoy your lunches. But when passing by the sugar aisle, he can’t help but choose a few sweets for you.

A type of house-husband you’d never expect. He’s brooding, shoulders kept tight, wearing a black mask and hoodie as he sulks in the grocery aisles, holding the colored basket. You’d think he’s stealing with a gun hidden in his back pocket. However, when in reality, he’s taking his house duties extremely seriously as he eyes for the cereal aisle.

He wakes up way early, even before you start to stir awake, even before the sun rises and goals himself to get a good workout in. Even though he’s not the same lieutenant as he was years ago– he’s not lazy, and still picks up his pace whilst jogging down the street and doing push-ups in the open garage.

At times, he wishes you could join him, and it would be fun, would it not? Having you down below, as his chest presses against yours and your flushed face being the main goal for him to continue? Or maybe, him guiding you through pull-ups, and you need his help? Oh, that’s how to make him very desperate for you in the early mornings.

Speaking of early mornings, when you rise with his gentle shaking, whispers of “good mornin’”, and his rough stubble rubbing your neck, you realize just how lucky you are. Especially with how Riley joins in, when he notices his second favorite human is up and awake.

Though, if you decide to ignore these two, covering your face and mumbling away, Simon will crawl over you, prep your face with sloppy kisses, and murmur hot and dirty words. His hand instinctively crawling down, snapping the band of your underwear, nails barely scratching at your skin whilst promising to get you all hot and messy, before forcing you out of bed.

When you leave out of that door, regardless of the morning, he ensures the house is spotless before you come home. He doesn’t listen to any music, only the occasional barks from Riley as he sprays the leather couches, doing the dishes the “old-fashioned way”, and folding laundry like it’s a race.

Most are scared of him– except for that one lady down the road. Her eyes follow Simon as if he’s a god, but he scoffs at that when she twirls her hair. You’re the real deity, he openly thinks. Of course, he shows off his pretty wedding ring, the one you got him; and somehow, Simon wishes you’d just make out with him in public, show her that he’s off limits and that he’s yours.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

The type of househusband who immediately recognized that you needed to be cared for, and went forth with that promise between the marriage. You work so hard to make money for the both of you. And he’s devoted to doing whatever he can to be helpful too.

Kyle is a clean freak, which means the house is nearly spotless when you come home. Every scratch at the couch has him grunting and hands vigorously trying to rub it off. Shoes inside the house are immediately put up, and he hates rainy days; looking at you with glaring pupils as you step inside with soaked coverings. But, he loves you.

The chores in the house are easily done before the afternoon, dishes cleaned with shiny marks and the floors vacuumed. Dusting and sweeping the house with headphones on, face flushed whilst… listening to among things he’d never want you to find out.

Laundry is always last in line, as he tends to “borrow” a good deal of dirty underwear of yours, smelling them intensely. Don’t worry though, he returns them at some point.

Kyle is the definition of “wifey material food”. Every breakfast consists of incredible fried eggs, mixed with bacon and fluffy pancakes; lunch and dinner being different every day, which is nice. He usually sticks with foods you’re comfortable with, never going out of your zone, and tries his hardest to make different sizes of hearts out of the food.

Though, you never seem to notice the secret ingredient, the divine particular part where the two of you are bonded stronger. Such shame, he utters. Sometimes he wishes you’d come home early– catch him desperately adding it within the dish with utter lewd excitement.

Having you come home is the best time of the day. Waiting by the door, wearing the cactus green apron you got him years ago, with a giant smile and dinner laid out, waiting for you. By the end of dinner, you’re full; both of love, and much suffocation of affection.

All the other housewives in the area love him. They often invite him for yoga, or work-out sessions. But, he usually uses the excuse that you need him. You do, don't you?

Every Friday, he wears and shows off certain gifts he feels that you’ll love. You work so hard for the both of you, so he should show his appreciation, should he not? Wearing all types of risqué clothing, leaving desperate messages, and having lingerie hidden underneath his black vest, coloring his skin and outlining his scars, stretch marks, and moles. Sooner or later, it leads to a heavy cuddle-sex session that he knows you’ll love.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:

The type of househusband who uses his pretty eyes and sculpted body, to get his way. Everything from seeing you at your working office and past your lunch break, to getting free food samples, all the way to a book full of coupons and all types of gifts for half the percentage.

He’s amazing at picking food at the grocery outlet, picking up the correct portions of proper protein, vegetables, and iron. And sometimes, sneaking a few donuts, pops, and tubs of ice cream he knows you love.

Johnny always wakes you up, the alarm rarely shaking you as your beloved husband knows your schedule by heart. He ensures your breakfast and lunch are ready by 7am, smirking at the added secret ingredients that he only knows.

He’s more lenient with waking you up. Knowing how you like to sleep, beauty sleep he corrects, Johnny tries to let you snooze in as far as you can, before gently stirring you up as the sun rises in the opened window.

His arms snake around your waist, cuddling up behind you whilst pulling you into his warm chest, as he nibbles on your ear and tells you to start getting up; breakfast is served on the table with awaited love. Though, if his sweet honey voice doesn’t work at this time, maybe some extremely sloppy oral will help, no?

Johnny ensures that everybody knows you’re lovingly taken. Those hickeys and bruises on your arms, and neck show just how loveable he is. He boasts about you all the time, to his then-team, cashiers and ladies on the streets. It’s only expected you do the same, yes?

Housewives and other househusbands either love him, or envy him. He’s pretty– too alluring to just be at home and caring for duties. Most women, and men constantly flaunt at his grown-out mohawk, often slicked back into a small bun and a few scars, especially one on his head, that prominent his face.

He’s still in shape, working out in the early mornings and doing yoga with the other moms; who he regularly drinks coffee with. They love how sweet and handsome the man is, especially towards his spouse.

Anyone would be lucky to have him, and many would trade a lifetime for him. But, he’s not going anywhere, not without you or your yummy neck anytime soon.

—

Masterlist || Please support me as a writer by reblogging or commenting <3

2K notes · View notes

froggibus · 8 months

Text

Valentine's NSFW - Overwatch Men

Pairings: Baptiste, Cassidy, Genji, Hanzo, Ramattra & Reaper x fem! reader (reader uses she/her pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

CW: cheesy Valentines things, aftercare, manhandling, bondage, role play, toys, shibari, praise, degradation, dirty talk, oral (giving & receiving) unprotected sex, p in v, cum stuffing, overstimulation, cervix fucking, teasing

i flopped so hard this Valentine’s Day but here’s some overwatch content 😭 im sorry my fellow lucio enjoyers i simply couldn’t do it i could not write him for valentines

—

Baptiste:

he’s a busy man, it’s a rare occasion that he has a day off, let alone two

wants to make the most of his time with you

takes his time to decorate your room, even changing the sheets to nice red ones and lighting some candles

for him it’s all about the ambience

takes his time to seduce you, starting with kissing you, then moving down your neck and so on

takes his time with your chest, his expert hands turning you into a moaning mess

when you’re finally so wet that you’re begging him just to touch you, he knows you’re ready

has you spread out on the bed, his head buried between your legs

it’s been so long since he was able to eat you out, it’s like a feast to him

doesn’t stop until you’ve came on his face at least twice, until his beard and chin are dripping with your juices

he’s so gentle but so intentional with his touches

teases your clit with his cock and laughs at the way you squirm and plead for him to put it in

once he puts it in, it’s not coming out until he’s fully satisfied

the man is insatiable, he’s drilling his cock into you like he’s trying to push it straight into your womb

it brushes your cervix and makes you wince, the pain only adding to the overwhelming pleasure you feel

loves cumming inside of you but saves it for special occasions like today

his aftercare is unmatched, the man has a basket of things to help soothe you after the fact

he’ll massage your shoulders and talk you down

and always forces you to pee because god forbid you get a UTI (although he’d take extra good care of you then, too)

Cassidy:

wants to try absolutely anything

he’s always a kinky mf but Valentine’s is his excuse to dial it up to 11

buys you cute underwear that you can show off to him

wants to roleplay

once you get in bed with this man you’re not getting out all night

he’ll have your hands cuffed behind your back while he watches you try to ride him

just watching you struggle to take his cock without bracing yourself with his hands is enough to have him cumming

it’s just so cute how pathetic you are, dragging your walls up and down his thick cock and whining how it’s “too much”

gets tired of your whining and has you flipped in doggy, your head pressed into the mattress

this man is breeding you for hours

even after your pussy is aching and dripping with his cum, he’ll try to keep going

switches between praise and degradation so fast he gives you whiplash

“so good f’me…takin’ my cock so well.”

spanks you if you get too quiet

“fuck, you’re sucha slut for me, aren’t ya?”

there will be bruises on your wrists from the handcuffs

when he finally lets you out of the bed, you can’t even walk on your own

so he runs you a hot bath with nice smelling salts, candles and lotions

Genji:

kinky mf

he’s probably been preparing for tonight for months

has some of that aphrodisiac chocolate and definitely feeds it to you

so much foreplay

he has you laying against his chest, legs spread out over his own, your pussy wide open for his fingers to dip into

he loves playing with you and teasing you, listening to you whimper that’s it’s ’too much’ and you ‘can’t take it anymore’

your cute whines must make him want to bury his cock in you and pound you

but tonight is about you and he wants to take his time

definitely brought some toys with him, like a magic wand and a rabbit

has the vibrator pressed against your clit while he fingers you

even after you cum a few times and whine about how you’re getting overstimulated, he still wants to fuck you until your brain is mush

it’s sweet relief when he finally puts the toys away and lays you down on the bed

you weakly spread your legs around his hips and give him access to your puffy pussy

feels so fucking good

he gets so deep inside you every time, and he’s going slow enough that you can feel it every time his cockhead brushes your walls

whispers praises in your ear about how good you are, about how you just need to give him one more and he’ll be done

“one more” turns into an extra hour

by the end of the night, you’re completely fucked out and drooling, your pussy aching from how good he took care of you

helps you clean yourself up, planting kisses on your burning skin

Hanzo:

SHIBARI

he’s been waiting so long for you to want to try it

you run to the bedroom when you get back from dinner

Hanzo is so patient waiting outside until you finally yell come in

you’ve stripped yourself to just your lingerie and you’re kneeling on the floor, holding silky red ropes in your hands

he’s instantly hard just seeing you submit to him

binds you up so nicely in the pretty little ropes, making sure you’re properly tied but keeping all your good places on display

manhandles you in front of him so he can prod at that pretty mouth with his cock

smears pre all of your lips and cheeks before pushing past your mouth and finally feeling your tongue on his length

you look so cute and helpless sitting beneath him and slobbering on his cock

probably straight up carries you by the ropes on your back and tosses you into the bed

you are doing it in every position tonight

bent over, balls slapping your clit with every thrust

on top of him, laying on his chest clawing desperately while he pounds you

against the wall, over the bed, on your knees, on his lap

he’s taking you any way he can

ends it in a mating press, undoing some of the ropes to offer you enough slack to fold your knees into your chest

leans over and coos about how cute you look with tears and cum smeared on your face

you’re stuffed with cum at the end of the night, laid out in the bed, face on his chest

Ramattra:

has no idea what Valentines is, and even after you explain doesn’t quite understand it

but if it’s important to you…

is teasing you the whole fucking day

pinning you against the wall and rubbing your pussy until you’re dripping wet, pulling you into his lap when you walk by so you can feel the thrumming in his crotch plate

he wants you soaked, prepped and ready for him at any time so that when he does decide to take you, he doesn’t have to waste any time

has you cockwarming him while he does work, an arm around your waist to hold you down on his massive length while his other taps away at a keyboard

you’re squirming and writhing in his lap for more but his grip is like iron

eventually he gives in to your incessant pleasing

“it’s St Valentines after all”

but don’t even think about trying to disobey him or try anything funny

pretty much uses you like a flesh light the rest of the night

the benefit of him being so strong is that he can manoeuvre you in anyway that he wants

and given that he’s an omnic, he can go all night and never falter

he’s brutal with his thrusts, pounding into you until your juices are spraying out and coating the plates of his thighs

“Look at how you’re gushing on me,” he teases, “look at how ruined your pussy is.”

probably fucks you until you’re on the verge of falling asleep

after he’s done with you, when you’re laying and looking al cute and fucked out in his bed

he’ll just brush your hair away from your face. “Happy St Valentine’s, dear.”

Reaper:

he does not give a fuck about Valentine’s Day

but if it gives him an excuse to take you in anyway he wants, he’s in

absolutely not what he has in mind when you’re binding him to your headboard with handcuffs

he won’t admit it but he’s into it

you spend over an hour just teasing him

rubbing, licking, drooling on his cock, watching the way he shifts uncomfortably with every move

it’s only after he calls out, “just fuck me or move on, please” that you listen to him

Reyes never says please so you know he’s desperate

of course you won’t even think about putting his cock inside of you until he's came in your mouth at least once

when you finally straddle his hips and sink down on his cock, Reaper is beyond impatient

he’s straining against his handcuffs, telling you what a whore you are and how he can’t wait to get out of these and fuck you silly

you ride him painfully slow, scratching up his chest with your nails as you slide up and down his cock

eventually you get desperate and start bouncing even more, forcing his cock as deep as it can go

just as you’re about to cum, Reaper snaps the bedposts and frees his hands

you’re in shock from the pure fucking strength it took and have no time to react before he’s flipping you on your back and taking you

the muscles in his arms are strained as he props himself up above you, veins protruding

just for teasing him, you’re not leaving the room until you’ve come at least three or four times

or unless you beg for mercy (though Gabe is a wild card, and it’s a 50/50 if he’ll even let you go)

—

masterlist | overwatch masterlist

1K notes · View notes

cattjull · 2 months

Text

PART 2 HERE

Summary: You just hoped that this rich girl that came in the store was gay and that she was willing to give you some money, of course.

A/N: Ik it's short but I plan on making much chapters ok

God, she was so hot.

She entered the store with the most perfect gait you'd ever seen, wearing a gray tank top that suited her perfectly molded body, mom jeans tight enough to leave you drooling at the sight of her ass and white designer shoes, whatever their brand was.

Maybe she was gay. No, she had to be gay. Maybe she was the kind of girl that liked spoiling young girls like you. She had to be.

She wasn't only pretty, she was putting stuff into her bag like nothing. All the perfumes and lotions she saw, everything. And let's just say you had a thing for rich girls.

She came closer to the register where you were, biting your lip slightly until you noticed she was right in front of you and snapped out of it.

"Seems like I'll eat well this week." You joked as you scanned the barcodes of the products, causing her to chuckle.

"You're funny." She said with a cocky grin, looking at you with those gorgeous blue eyes.

"Thank you." You smiled, feeling the apples of your cheeks reddening. After a little bit, you spoke again. "So who's the lucky girl?"

"What makes you think this is not for me?" She asked teasingly.

"You didn't even look what you were putting in your basket." You said with a little smirk before noticing how much of a stalker you must have sound.

"I'm single, if that's your question." She said with a chuckle as you put all the products in a bag, trying to hide the smile in your face.

"How will you-"

"Card." She interrupted you, holding you a card. You swiped it in the card reader, and you examined the card for a while, looking for her name.

"I like your name, Abigail."

"You can call me Abby."

You wrote down your number on the ticket and put it inside the bag.

"Please, text me, Abby." You almost pleaded with your most sultry voice, handing her the full bag.

"Trust me, I will." She said with a wink before walking out of the store, leaving you staring her up and down before you lost her from sight.

Taglist: @elliessgfsstuff @giuliaexe66 @playboygirlsnextdoor00 @justhereforthosefics

#rich!abby #sugarmommy!abby #lesbian #abby anderson #abby fanfiction #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x you #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby fluff #wlw #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x you #abby x y/n #abby x fem!reader #cattjull

382 notes · View notes

writingforstraykids · 5 months

Text

Keep it together

Pairing: Chan x femReader

Word Count: 2199

Summary: You come back to an empty home, overwhelmed after a shitty day. Once Chan's there he makes sure to take care of you.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, cuddles, emotional hurt!comfort

A/N: My dear friend and editor Miya @miyaluvvsyou wrote this beautiful comfort fic for Channie, trying to make me believe that it's "just a lil sth and probably not good"...please, help me prove her otherwise🤭🖤

Pushing the front door to your home open, you drag your tired body inside and let it slam shut behind you, ignoring the sound that normally makes you flinch. You slide off your shoes, drop your bag and keys on the nearby table, and take off your jacket to hang it up on the hook next to the door. You turn towards your living room, taking a few steps into your home. The air is still, silence clouding the air as you realize no one is home besides you. The sunlight peaks through your windows, and subtlety illuminates the space just enough to see the features of your home.

You walk past the living room and towards the stairs to your bedroom, stripping the clothes from your body in the process. As you reach your bedroom, you drop your clothes in the laundry basket by the door and head into the master bathroom, leaving the door open. Standing in front of the sink, you look into the mirror and you inhale a shaky breath, exhaling as you examine your features while only standing in your bra and panties.

Your hair, now frizzy and all over the place from its neat style this morning, is the first thing you see. The dark circles resting under your eyes threaten to deepen with one more sleepless night. Your eyes were red and puffy from rubbing them all day, also ruining your makeup you put effort into this morning. Your skin was slightly paler than normal. As you take in the sight, tears begin to brim your eyelids, and you take a shaky, deep breath to center yourself. You were drained in every sense of the word, and it was very apparent in your appearance, though you tried to hide it.

And all you wanted was him.

A tear escaped and rolled down your face, but you wiped it away quickly with a sniffle. Moving towards your shower, you turn on the hot water and let the steam envelop the room for a couple of minutes while you continue wiping away the tears still escaping your eyelids.

Keep it together just enough to shower. Wash the day away, and you will be fine…

You repeat the same words in your head as you strip from your underwear and step into the scalding water, letting it welcome you with a deep sigh. You try not to waste any time and energy getting to work on washing your body. With every scrub of the soapy cloth, you imagine every single worry and inconvenience from the week being taken away. But no matter how hard you scrub, your mind can’t seem to relax. The flowing hot water only giving you temporary relief from the icy atmosphere in your mind. And you can’t stay in the shower forever, as much as you want to sink down to the floor and let the water consume you. You resist the urge and continue cleaning your body until you’re satisfied.

Finishing your shower and getting out, you wrap a towel around your body and walk back to the bedroom. Grabbing your lotion, you sit at the edge of the bed and moisturize your body as you get lost in your thoughts again, staring at the floor and spacing out. Your body moves on autopilot, making sure to cover every inch of skin with the sweet-scented lotion as you’ve done countless times before. If anyone were to walk in, they would think you’re just doing your normal routine. But they’d have no idea of the depressive storm brewing in your head.

Keep it together. You’ll be under the covers and away from the world soon…

As you continue your routine on autopilot, you tug one of his t-shirts over your head, slip on a pair of panties, and sit on your side of the bed, facing the window. Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply and hold it in. The tears that were in your waterline begin to slide down your cheeks. You exhale shakily, and before you can stop it, the tears fall faster. You begin to cry, feeling your mind and body give in to the breakdown you have been avoiding all day. As your sobs get louder, your body slides down onto the floor, leaning back against the bed, and your hands reach up to cover your face. You cry your heart out, trying to keep your heart from racing out of your chest.

You don’t hear Bang Chan come home almost an hour later. He’s humming to himself as he closes the door, guiding it so it won’t slam, and puts his keys in the bowl on the table. As he takes his shoes off, he notices yours and smiles to himself, putting his bag next to yours. “(Y/N), I’m home, love!” He calls out to you. Taking off his hoodie and hanging it next to the door, he turns towards the living room, expecting to see you.

But he’s met with nothing but the still silence of the home. There weren’t any lights on, just the few rays of sunlight coming through the window. There wasn’t any movement coming from the kitchen. As he walked further in, he noticed the tv wasn’t on either, couch unoccupied.

“(Y/N)? Are you home, baby?” Chan called out again, his eyebrows raised as he awaits for a response. But none came, and he frowned.

Strange.

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he opens it and calls your phone, listening to the ringing. A couple of seconds later, he hears the vibration from your phone and looks around to locate the sound. He follows the vibration back to your purse, where he sees your ringing phone with his name on the screen. He looks around once more before ending the call. He softly hums and begins to make his way upstairs, 2 steps at a time. Maybe you were in the bathroom or in the shower.

Chan notices the bedroom door open and looks inside, standing in the doorway. His eyes scan the room before he sees the top of your head poking out from your side of the bed. He exhales with a small smile and slowly walks in, trying not to make noise to surprise you. But his smile fades as he gets closer to you and hears your small sniffles. Are you crying?

“Baby?” Chan speaks gently to get your attention. Your head snaps up to meet his gaze, and his heart drops at the sight. You’re sitting on the floor in his t-shirt, one shoulder exposed and crossed legged. Your eyes are bloodshot red and puffy, tears flowing. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you sniffle but struggle to breathe. My poor baby..

He’s kneeling down in front of you not even a second later, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “(Y/N) what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen?” Chan rattles out questions as he closely examines your body. You shake your head and sniffle, more tears flowing from your eyes.

“C-Chan I-“ You struggle to get out between sniffles. You put your hands over his and close your eyes. He leans forward and kisses your nose softly, then your forehead, and finally pecks your lips so delicately. It causes you to still, taking a deep breath and inhaling his scent. It calms you enough to finally open your eyes and meet his gaze.

He looks at you with a pained expression and rubs your cheeks with his thumbs gently. “What’s wrong, princess? What’s upsetting you, hm?” He asks sincerely. Chan hated seeing you upset, especially if he’s the one that causes it. But since he’s just gotten home, he doesn’t think he might be the cause this time.

“I don’t k-know, but hold me p-please” You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck. Chan sits back against the wall and pulls you into his lap, holding you close to his chest as he rubs your back. You bury your face in his neck and sniffle, trying to steady yourself in his arms.

Chan rubs soothing circles on your back and shushes you softly. You instinctively pull him impossibly closer, taking deep breaths. “It’s okay, babygirl. I’m right here. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” You nod at his words. “We can sit here as long as you’d like, okay?”

“O-okay Channie.” You whisper into his neck, steadying your beating heart as you find comfort in his arms.

The two of you sit like that for 2 hours. Once your sniffles died down and the tears stopped flowing, you curled up in Chan’s lap, subconsciously trying to shrink yourself. He continued to rub your back while planting soft kisses on your head every now and then. He even started to hum one of your favorite songs to help steady your heartbeat. He didn’t complain about being on the floor for so long, he just wanted you to be okay. Once the silence was in the air long enough, he spoke up. “How ya feeling, love?”

“I’m okay…” You shyly reply, shifting a little in his lap. “I’m sorry I couldn’t-“ You begin to try explaining yourself, but Chan interrupted you almost immediately.

“Shh hey, don’t apologize to me. My concern is you, no matter what.” He looks into your eyes as he speaks reassurance to you, letting the hand that’s not rubbing your back gently caress your face. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, it’s okay. I won’t pressure you.”

You nod and your eyes flutter as he leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead. With a sniffle, you begin to speak. “I just had a really tense work week and once I got home, my body just…broke down. It’s just been so-“ The tears begin to rim around your eyes as you explain, and you take a pause to take a deep breath. Chan notices and kisses your forehead, running a gentle finger underneath your eyes to wipe away your tears. You take his hand and look into his eyes. “Thank you, Channie.” You speak lowly, but sincerely.

“Don’t thank me, it’s my job to make sure you are okay baby.” He speaks softly with a smile. You match the small smile resting on his face and nod. “Do you wanna sit here for a little longer still?”

“Can we lay in bed and cuddle? You’re probably uncomfortable from sitting like this for a while. Especially with me sitting on top of you.” You give him an apologetic look, while an adorable pout rests on your lips.

Chan shakes his head. “You know I’ll never complain when you’re sitting on my lap, princess.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows. You gasp softly and slap his shoulder playfully, smiling as he giggled. “But we can lay down and cuddle baby, whatever you want.” He chuckles and kisses you. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving to straddle his lap. He wraps his arms around your legs and stands up with ease, causing a squeal to leave your lips in the middle of the kiss. He chuckles and kisses you again as he takes a few steps towards the bed and lays you on your back.

You keep your arms around his neck and wraps your legs around his waist to keep him close. He smiles and kisses your forehead and cheeks, going back to your lips for a soft peck. You whine softly and try to connect your lips again, but he pulls back just enough to be out of reach, a grin that flashes his dimples rests on his lips. “Channieee”

“Uhn uhn, cuddling only princess. That’s what you asked for.” He raised an eyebrow, still grinning.

You sigh and pout at him. “Just a little kiss?” You give him the best boba eyes you can manage.

But he doesn’t crack, giving your pouty lips a quick peck before he playfully slaps your thigh. “There’s your kiss. Now get under the covers while I change my clothes.” He says, giggling at your stunned face from his movement. He gives you one more small peck before standing up and going into that closet to change. You smile to yourself and crawl under the covers, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.

Chan comes out of the closet in a pair of sweatpants but his chest bare. He climbs into bed and underneath the covers, pulling your body close to his. You lay your head on his chest and intertwine your legs, feeling safe and sound in his arms. He kisses your temple and smiles. “I love you darling.”

“I love you more, Channie. So much more.” You speak, placing a kiss on his chest and smiling to yourself. You turn on Netflix and you watch that K-Drama you both have been waiting to watch, feeling that much needed peace you craved just hours ago.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143

567 notes · View notes

babyhatesreality · 20 days

Text

Nightlight

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x Little!F!Reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, language, pet names, angsty/anxious/insecure baby, a few tears, Stucky being the best daddies ever.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated.

"Alright love bug, time to get out," Steve said, smiling as he watched you play with your tub toys. He held out the small plastic basket to you. You tossed your toys one by one into it, cheering proudly each time like you'd made a half-court shot. Steve of course cheered right along with you. Once all your toys were put up, he hung the basket on the hooks on the tub wall to dry, and helped you out. He wrapped the big fluffy towel around you. "Gotta hug you dry!" he said, giving you a big squeeze and making you giggle. "I heard that kisses help you dry off too, isn't that right?" he added very seriously, before attacking your face with noisy smooches. You squealed and playfully twisted like you were trying to get away, but deep down you loved it.

You were still getting used to being so cared for and protected. You'd been with Steve and Bucky for about six weeks now. The bond between the three of you was incredible, and you felt so safe and happy, trusting them instantly and completely. It was still taking some time for you to believe that you were worthy of this much love and attention, but you were slowly getting there. As if you really had any other choice when you were constantly being showered with it.

Once you were dry, Steve helped you brush your teeth and combed out your hair, before carrying you, still wrapped in the huge fluffy towel, to Bucky. "What's it gonna be tonight, princess?" Papa asked. "Do you want to sleep in the big bed with us, or in your bed with your stuffies?"

Without really thinking about it, you answered quickly. "Stuffies please!" Daddy and Papa had just let you build two brand new teddies at Build-A-Bear today, and you were eager for them to get to know the rest of their new stuffy gang. The idea of cuddling two new stuffies plus Jellybean tonight was just too exciting to pass up.

"You got it, love," Papa said with a smile. He carried you out to Bucky, gently transferring you into his waiting arms. "She's sleeping with her new pals tonight," he explained. Bucky grinned, looking down on your excited face.

"What did you name your new teddies again, Trouble?" he asked, remembering full well what you had named them.

"Named 'em Cap and BuckBear!" you answered cheerfully.

"That's right you did," he said smugly to himself, as he carried into your room. He made quick work of putting your sleepytime lotion on, and dressing you in the pink and blue pjs you'd picked out earlier, all while you told him all about your new teddy bears. He nodded and followed along, subtly laying you down in bed before you really realized it. Once you caught on, however, you started squirming and trying to sit back up, but all it took was him tucking your new furry friends into your arms one at a time for you to lay back down with a contented sigh.

He and Steve each took their turn reading you a book that you picked out. As your eyelids were getting unbearably heavy, Bucky reached over and switched on the soft blue unicorn nightlight, before turning on the baby monitor. They finished the last story, tucked you in, gave you gentle kisses on the forehead, and tiptoed out the door.

You smiled, nuzzling into your new teddies' soft fur. Then, of course, you had to reach for Jellybean, not wanting her to feel left out. Then you needed to give some time to each new teddy so they knew they were loved too...and before you knew it, you were wide awake again, trying to make sure all the stuffies got equal love before you all went to sleep.

Once you were satisfied, you snuggled in and closed your eyes. But...something was wrong. Something didn't sound right. You wiggled and fidgeted, not knowing what it was, but it was making you more and more anxious. Suddenly you realized that you hadn't slept alone for nearly three weeks. You were so used to hearing the gentle breathing of Papa and Daddy snuggled next to you, that the silence of your room was too loud. And then it was scary.

You opened your eyes, focusing on your unicorn nightlight. It was so lovely and pretty, but it just wasn't doing the job- it couldn't soothe you enough, or chase away enough of the creeping fear climbing up your spine. You desperately wanted to get out of bed and go find Papa and Daddy. But you shook your head and buried your face into Jellybean. Good girls stayed in bed. Good girls did what they were told. Otherwise, that meant they were bad and who wanted a bad little girl?

*************************************

Steve and Bucky were getting ready for bed in their room. "I almost don't know what to do with myself," Steve joked. "I'm so used to Katie being in here and going to bed with her that I've forgotten how to adult."

Bucky chortled quietly. "You want me to read you a story?" he teased, laughing when Steve tossed his wadded up teeshirt at his head. "Punk."

"Jerk."

"You wanna watch a movie?"

"I feel like I should say yes, but...."

"You only wanna watch a Disney movie, don't you?"

"...yes."

"...me too."

"I've gotten so addicted to them with her!"

"Right?! How the hell did they get that good over all these years?"

"Makes you glad were were both on ice for some of those in between ones, eh?"

"Tell me about it. Let's find one of the ones that might be too scary for her. We'll screen it and see if she can handle it."

"I love that idea."

"Well, I am the smart one."

"I still outrank you."

"Touche, punk. Gimme the remote."

They both climbed into bed, scrolling through the options. Before Bucky hit play though, he hesitated. "What is it?" Steve asked.

"Should we...should we go check on her? Just to make sure she's...you know...okay?" Bucky asked, trying to play it cool and failing miserably.

Steve smiled gently. "I'm missing her too," he said reassuringly. The bed felt somehow empty without your small frame wiggling around in it. "But we need to let her have her independence when she wants it. That's part of keeping her healthy and safe."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Bucky said, pouting. "But I don't have to like it."

Before Steve could agree, they heard something. Something come through the baby monitor. Something that made them both absolutely freeze.

You gave the tiniest sniff. Like...maybe like you were crying.

Steve and Bucky tore across the apartment so fast, it was a wonder there weren't skid marks on the carpet. They screeched to a halt by your door, not wanting to scare you, or even wake you up if you were, in fact, asleep. Steve cracked the door open the tiniest bit, just enough to get a look at you in your bed. You were definitely crying silently. Bucky let out a soft exhale of air, like he'd been punched in the stomach at the sight of your tears. You heard it and turned to them.

"Daddy? Papa?" you asked in the smallest, most heartbreaking voice they'd ever heard.

Instantly, you found yourself in Bucky's arms, and then both of you were in Steve's. You tried to subtly wipe your eyes, but of course they knew you'd been crying.

"What's wrong, baby girl?" Steve asked, his heart threatening to squeeze out his chest as he held both you and Bucky. "Did you get scared? Are you okay?"

"It's okay, you're safe, nothing can hurt you," Bucky added in a soothing tone. "We're here, my love. We're right here."

"I...sowwy."

"What?" Steve replied, completely surprised. "What are you sorry for honey? You didn't do anything wrong."

"S'posed to be 'sleep," you mumbled, the tears threatening again.

"Aw, that's okay Trouble," Bucky said with a soft smile. "Sometimes it takes me a long time to fall asleep too."

"Not....dat..." you whispered, before turning your ashamed face into Bucky's chest. They exchanged a quick look.

"What is it then, honey? You can tell us, it's okay," Steve said soothingly, rubbing circles on your back. "Daddy and I got you, okay? Can we please help you?"

You gulped, and looked up at them. They both seemed sincere, and you had no reason not to trust them...."I...I got scawed," you lisped out, your Rs turning into Ws the way they did when you were upset. "It's okay, Princess, Daddy and I will protect you from anything, okay? You know that, right?"

"Yeah...."

"Can you tell us what scared you?"

"No," you said, turning back into Bucky's chest.

"Why not baby?"

"Cause....'cause I don't wanna be bad...."

"You're not bad, Trouble. You're our good little girl. Please tell us what scared you. We won't be mad, we promise."

"Pwomise?"

"We promise," they said in unison. That was what finally broke you enough to tell them, the tears starting up again.

"I...I missed you and I wann'd to come back to the big bed but good giwls don't get outta bed and dey gotta be good and stay...."

You watched their faces closely as you confessed, just waiting for them to scold you. Instead, the softest smiles crossed their faces when they heard that you were missing them.

"Oh angel," Steve breathed, leaning in to rub his nose against yours. "How on earth could we be mad at you for missing us?"

"You...you not mad?"

"Not even a little bit, baby." "Cause guess what Trouble?" Bucky added, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"What?" you asked innocently, your wide, pleading eyes doing him in all over again.

"We were missing you too."

"You was?"

"Uh-huh. Big time."

"It's true, Baby. Daddy and I were talking about it before we heard you in the baby monitor."

"Was twying to be quiet and be good."

"And that was very sweet of you, lovebug, but listen to me, okay?" Papa said, scooting in even closer and putting a finger under your chin so you'd look him in the eye. "If you ever, and I mean ever, need me or Daddy, you can always, always, ALWAYS come to us. No matter what. Okay?"

You blinked up at him, astonished that you hadn't been the perfect little girl you were supposed to be....yet he still wanted you to come to him anyways? You knew you could trust your Papa....and he wouldn't lie to you....

"That's right, Baby Girl," Buck added, seeing your disbelief. "Doesn't matter if it's late at night, or early in the morning, or if you've just been put to bed- doesn't matter. Doesn't even matter if it's nowhere near bedtime. If you want us, you got us. Papa and I are here for you and want you to be the happiest baby in the world. So don't even think about it again- if you need me and Papa, you come get us. Understood?"

"I....I can come get you if I need you?"

"Of course you can, Trouble."

"Always," added Steve lovingly.

"Can I....can I...."

"Yes?"

"Can....I come....sweep with you tonight pwease?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Bucky teased, swinging you up in his arms suddenly and standing.

"Do you want to bring your new furry friends with you, baby?" Steve asked, already gathering them in anticipation of what he already knew you were going to say.

You couldn't even respond for a moment, you were so full of wonder and joy at their love and affirmation. At their care. They DID love you. They DID care for you. And you could make mistakes and they would still love you. No one had ever done that for you before. But maybe...just maybe...you had finally found it. The two bestest daddies in the entire world that genuinely loved and cared for you. Your heart was so full, it was amazing.

You nodded shyly at Steve, who grinned and carefully gathered Cap, BuckBear, and Jellybean. "I call cuddling with Baby and Cap," he said playfully as the three of you (well, the six of you counting the stuffies) made your way out of your bedroom.

"No fair!" Bucky said back in a theatrically wounded voice. "I wanna cuddle with Baby! And of course BuckBear. He is the handsomest, isn't he, Trouble?" When you gave your little giggle at their silliness, they both smiled those soft, special smiles at you again, making your heart warm and making you feel so loved all over again.

In no time at all, you were comfortably cuddled in the crook of Bucky's right arm while holding Steve's left forearm against your chest. After some more playful and gentle teasing, Cap was cuddled by Papa, BuckBear by Daddy, and Jellybean was squished up all cozy in between Papa's arm and you.

You sighed, feeling so loved and cared for. "Papa? Daddy?" you asked sleepily, as once more your eyelids became oh so heavy.

"What is it, baby?" Bucky asked in his deep, quiet tones.

"You are better dan a million nightlights," you said with a gentle smile.

They both leaned into you at that, giving you sweet goodnight kisses all over again. "You're the light of our lives, angel," Steve whispered. "We'll always be your nightlights."

#daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy bucky #daddy bucky x little reader #daddy stucky #daddy!stucky #daddy stucky x little reader #daddy!stucky x little reader #daddy!steve #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy steve #daddy steve x little reader #daddy steve rogers #daddy steve rogers x little reader

177 notes · View notes

iliketangerines · 3 months

Note

A horny Takeda with a panty kink? Idk I’ve heard a lot of Japanese men have it and it seemed so cute for him, he loves the ones with little bows 🎀

a sight to behold

a/n: i'm actually so excited to see takeda in mk1

pairing: takeda takahashi x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), panty kink, pussy eating, slight overstimulation

you stare at yourself in the mirror, picking at the bows on the set of lingerie that you had bought for Takeda

they always looked better in the store than at home, and you sigh and turn side to side to look again at the bows and frown

it felt silly, you felt silly, perhaps this was a bad idea, you had just wanted to surprise Takeda after he came home from a long mission, but you don’t think he’ll like it

stripping off the lingerie set, you throw the panties into the laundry basket and head to the showers, turning on the water and waiting for it to warm-up before stepping into the hot spray of water

in the roar of the water hitting your back, you don’t hear Takeda opening the front door and calling out your name, excited to be back home after so long

when he doesn’t hear your response and squeal and doesn’t see you bounding down the hallways and barreling into his arms, he closes the door behind him and listens for you

he can hear the shower running and chuckles to himself, you’re just in the shower, safe and sound, nothing wrong here

Takeda makes his way to the bedroom, intending on perhaps just sliding into the showers with you, give you a small surprise, and he enters the bedroom, a small smile curving on his face as he observes all the small little things you’ve added to the room in his absence

his eyes rove around the room, and he takes in a deep breath, missing the scent of the candles you always lit in the bedroom

as he makes his way to the showers, his eyes catch on something hanging out of the basket, something that you most definitely didn’t own when he left

embarrassingly enough, Takeda knows every set of underwear you have, the color, the shape, which brand, the softness, whenever you were away from home at business meetings, he always rummaged through your underwear drawer and jacked off to them

of course he washes and dries them before you come back, cleaning them of his misdeeds, but he knows that when you put on your panties, that his cum had been there

he walks over to the laundry basket and picks up the set, mouth watering at the sight

it’s decorated in pretty little bows of his favorite color, a size too small so that your pudge would be squeezed out, and it’s nice and lacy and soft

his cock twitches in interest at the sight, and Takeda feels his face burn as he brings them up to his nose and takes in a deep breath

it still smells of your body wash, and he groans at the image of you wearing them, all pretty and dressed-up for him

the sound of the shower turns off, and Takeda turns his gaze to the door, holding the panties in his hand and sitting on the bed to wait for you to come out

you come out of the showers soon enough, hair damp and skin covered in a sheen layer of a scented lotion and only covered in a short towel, and you nearly shut the bathroom door when you see Takeda sitting on the bed

walking up to him, you scowl, saying that he scared you, and he lets out a breathy laugh, saying that he missed you too

your eyes dart to his hands, face heating up in embarrassment as you see the panties you had bought for him crumpled in his fist, and you go to snatch them from him

he smiles and keeps a firm hand on your chest, saying that he wants to see you in them first, and you frown at him and say no, they don’t look that good on you and that you’re going to return them

Takeda raises a brow and says to just put on a show for him then, he’ll be the judge of whether you look bad or not

you sigh and roll your eyes but begrudgingly agree, snatching the panties out of a grinning Takeda’s hands, and you throw the towel in his face as you slip them on

he laughs and lets the towel hit him in the face and fall to his lap as he watches you slowly slip the panties over your plush thighs

by gods, it is a wonderful sight to behold, how the lace lightly squeezes at your hips and causes the fat to spill out and the little bows accentuating just how delicious you look

his voice is breathless as he asks you to do a little spin for him, and you do so slowly, and Takeda has to clench his fist to stop himself from cumming in his pants at how the panties grip onto your ass

your hands come down to pull them off, and he has to stop himself from whipping out his weapon to stop your wrist

he takes in a deep breath and asks you to come over here first, and you sigh and do so, placing your hands on his shoulders, and his hands settle on your hips, tracing the lace of your panties with his thumbs

Takeda stares at how it hugs your curves and your skin, and he can’t help himself as he bites his lips and tells you to get on the bed

you raise in eyebrow in confusion, and he repeats himself breathlessly, eyes fixated on the lace and the small little bows

there’s a second where you don’t move, and then you let out a knowing laugh and say alright, letting go of his shoulders and crawling onto the bed before flopping onto your back

he doesn’t think he’s ever moved so fast to get rid of his armor and his clothing, leaving himself in only his underwear as he shuffles himself downwards so that your thighs sit atop his shoulders

Takeda stares wide-eyed at the panties, a small little wet patch indicating your need for him, and he licks his lips before pressing his tongue and licking a long strip up the base of the panties

you let out a small gasp, propping yourself up on your elbows to see what he’s doing, and you bite your lip at the sight of him lapping at you with his tongue through your panties

he’s breathless with the way he’s so absorbed into you, barely taking the time to breathe as he licks and laps at the panties, nose digging into your clit and tongue pressing the panties into your pussy folds

Takeda whines, needing to be deeper, and he brings his hands up to use his thumbs to part your folds and use his tongue to lave at you, pushing the panties deeper into you and collecting your want

it’s addicting, your small gasps and moans, the way he can taste you through your panties, the panties, oh dear gods, the panties

he can feel himself getting close even just eating you out through your panties, and he needs to buy you more, to buy you more underwear like this

his nose grinds persistently into your clit, as he eats you out, moans reverberating through you and making you whimper and for pleasure to build and buzz through you

you hadn’t thought that you wearing such a silly little lingerie set would get him so worked up, but you would have to buy more if he acted like this every time

Takeda groans loudly, he needs you, needs you directly from the source, and he pulls your panties to the side and fucks you on his tongue, covering his chin with your slick

the sudden feeling of him directly pressing into you makes you gasp, his nose grinding so deliciously into your clit, and you nearly cum when he pulls the hood of your clit up with his thumb and pressing his thumb directly into the sensitive bud

it makes you whine and arch your back off the bed, letting your elbows fall from under you to grab onto his hair instead, and he whimpers at the feeling, grinding his clothed cock into the bedsheets

you cum on his tongue, gasping for air as he hums and wraps his arms around your plush thighs, pulling you in closer to his face

he can’t get enough, the sight of your panties wet with your want and clinging to your figure, the sound of your moans ringing in his ears, the dig of your fingers into his scalp

it’s all too much, and he groans as his hips stutter and his cock spurts cum into his underwear, staining and pooling in the material

Takeda pants into your pussy, fucking you on his tongue through your orgasm and grinding his hips down through his own

you blink at the ceiling, trying to calm down, and you raise your head as his tongue keeps lapping into you, letting out a stifled whine as the pleasure sings through you

he glances up at you, away from the pretty bows decorating your panties, and he smiles at you, saying that he just needed a second to recover

all the better for him to prep you and taste you on his tongue, and he’s going to fuck you with your panties on and then cum on them

his lewd words make you gape at him, but you quickly forget it as he thrusts two thick fingers into you

oh, he loved your panties, and he would thoroughly ruin this pair and buy you so many more

#tangerine writes #tangerine answers #mortal kombat #mk #mortal kombat x #mkx #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #mk x you #mk x y/n #mortal kombat smut #mk smut #takeda takahashi smut #takeda smut #takeda x reader #takeda x you #takeda x y/n

171 notes · View notes

doctorbitchcrxft · 3 months

Text

Bloodlust | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, implied sexism/objectification

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Dean was in the best mood you’d seen him in in a long time. He was grooving to his music as the Impala cruised along the highway; having finally fixed his baby. “Whoo! Listen to her purr! Have you ever heard anything so sweet?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know, if you two wanna get a room, just let me know, Dean.”

“Oh, don't listen to her, baby. She doesn't understand us.”

Sam laughed. “You're in a good mood.”

“Why shouldn't I be?” Dean questioned.

“No reason.”

“Got my car, got a case; things are looking up.”

You hummed. “Wow. Give you a couple severed heads and a pile of dead cows, and you’re little miss sunshine.”

He laughed. “How far to Red Lodge?”

Sam responded, “Uh, about another three hundred miles.”

“Good,” Dean smirked, flooring it.

***

The sheriff you and the brothers talked to obviously thought the three of you were insane when you questioned him about the decapitations and cow mutilations. He ordered you to get out of his office, to which you agreed.

Needing another plan, you and the brothers headed to the hospital in your respective suits and dress. You didn’t miss the way Dean’s eyes raked over your body as you made your way into the morgue.

“Decorum, please,” you teased, swishing your hips as you walked ahead of him.

Dean walked closely behind you and read the nametag of the unsuspecting intern sitting behind the desk. “John.”

“Jeff,” he corrected.

“Jeff. I know that,” Dean chuckled. “Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away.”

“But Dr. Dworkin's on vacation.”

“Well, he's back. And he's pissed, and he's screaming for you, man, so if I were you I would—” he clicked his tongue and jutted his thumb behind him.

The intern looked terrified and ran away.

“Hey, those satanists in Florida, they marked their victims, didn't they?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah, reversed pentacle on the forehead,” Sam responded.

“Yeah. So much fucked up crap happens in Florida.” He handed you and Sam pairs of latex gloves and tugged on a pair of his own.

You pulled out a metal bed with a woman’s corpse laying on it and a box between her legs.

“Alright, open it,” Dean told Sam.

“You open it,” Sam protested.

“You guys are pussies.” You grabbed the box and took the lid off, unfazed by the sight before you.

Dean cringed at the sight of the head, saying, “Well, no pentagram.”

“Wow. Poor girl,” Sam said.

“Maybe we should, uh, you know, look in her mouth, see if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat. Y'know, kinda like the moth in Silence of the Lambs.”

“Yeah, here, go ahead,” you smirked, spinning the box toward him.

“No, you go ahead,” he rebutted.

“What?”

“ ‘Put the lotion in the basket.’ “

You rolled your eyes. “Fine.” You pried her mouth open and looked down her throat.

“Dean, get me a bucket?” Sam grimaced. “I'm going to puke.”

You felt around her mouth a bit more and found strange grooves above her gumline. You pulled her lip up and pressed just above one of the holes, and a fang descended. “Oh, this fucking bitch.”

“She’s already dead, (Y/N), relax,” Dean told you.

“Well, this changes things,” noted Sam.

“Ya think?” you and Dean asked in unison.

***

You and the brothers decided to go for a few drinks after the discoveries you’d made and pick up the next morning. You immediately felt a man’s eyes on you and uncomfortably shifted in your seat. “You pickin’ up what I am?” you discreetly whispered to Dean.

“Yeah, definitely,” he responded lowly, sitting on a barstool. “How's it going?”

The bartender answered, “Living the dream. What can I get for you?”

“Three beers, please.”

Sam began, “So, we're looking for some people.”

“Sure. Hard to be lonely,” the bartender smirked.

“Yeah. But, um, that's not what I meant.” Sam pulled a fifty dollar bill from his pocket and dropped it in front of the bartender, who took it hesitantly. “Right. So these, these people, they would have moved here about six months ago, probably pretty rowdy, like to drink—”

“Yeah, real night owls, you know? Sleep all day, party all night,” Dean chimed in.

“Barker farm got leased out a couple months ago. Real winners. They've been in here a lot— drinkers. Noisy. I've had to 86 them once or twice.”

You and Dean thanked the bartender for his help and continued to nurse your beers. After a few minutes, you and the brothers continued to feel the man’s eyes on you. On high alert, all three of you moved for the door and noticed all that was left of the man was a smoldering cigarette in an ashtray.

You and the brothers walked out of the bar and past the Impala to lead the man who’d been stalking you away. You rounded a corner and jumped out of the way so the brothers could pin the man who’d followed you to the wall. Dean held a knife to the man’s throat and commanded, “Smile.”

“What?” the man asked.

“Show us those pearly whites.”

“Oh, for the love of— you want to stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire," he replied nonchalantly.

You frowned.

“Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there.” Even his voice was unsettling.

“What do you know about vampires?” you asked.

“How to kill them. Now seriously, bro. That knife's making me itch.”

Dean cocked his head and the man started to pull away. Sam pinned him down harder.

“Whoa. Easy there, Chachi,” the man said. He slowly brought his hand up to his lips and revealed normal gums. “See? Fangless. Happy?”

Dean let him up. “Now. Who the hell are you?”

"Gordon. Gordon Walker," he replied. "You?"

"I'm Dean. This is Sam; that's (Y/N)."

The man led you over to his car and pulled out an arsenal rack from behind his backseat. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I can't believe it. You know I met your old man once? Hell of a guy. Great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes. But from what I hear you guys fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot—”

Dean was on-guard. “You seem to know a lot about our family.”

“Word travels fast. You know how hunters talk,” the man explained.

“No, I don’t, actually,” you chimed in.

“You're a firecracker, aren't cha?” he asked. His somehow hauntingly melodic voice had you on edge.

You refused to respond.

“So, um, so those two vampires, they were yours, huh?” Sam jumped in.

“Yep. Been here two weeks.”

“Did you check out that Barker farm?” Dean questioned.

“It's a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though, they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone.” You almost laughed at Gordon’s comment.

“Where's the nest, then?” Dean asked.

“I got this one covered. Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meetin' you fellas. But I've been on this thing over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin; tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it.”

“We could help,” Dean suggested.

“Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy.”

Dean groaned, “Come on, man, I"ve been itching for a hunt.”

“Sorry. But hey, I hear there's a Chupacabra two states over. You go ahead and knock yourselves out.” He got down into his car and leaned out of the window. “It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side.” He drove off.

“He seems like a world-class douche,” you commented as you watched his retreating red car.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Sam snorted.

“C’mon.” Dean started off to his car.

“Where we goin’?”

“To find ourselves a fang.”

***

Dean followed Gordon’s distinctive red car to a warehouse where you deduced he’d tracked a vampire to.

You rushed up the labyrinth of ladders toward the sounds of a running mill saw and the two men struggling. When you arrived at the scene, you saw Gordon on the verge of getting his head taken off by the vampire and the saw. You and Sam each grabbed a boot and pulled Gordon away from the vampire’s impressive strength. Dean attacked the vampire and replaced Gordon with him, lowering the saw to the vampire’s throat. You watched in concern as blood sprayed across Dean’s face, and he seemed completely unreactive.

“So, uh, I guess I gotta buy you that drink,” Gordon chuckled awkwardly.

***

You agreed to meet Gordon back at the bar you’d met him at after you cleaned Dean up. Sam went into the bar with Gordon to get a round of drinks started. You took hydrogen peroxide out of the first aid kit in the car and began to wipe Dean’s face off with it.

“I can do this myself, y’know,” he mumbled.

“I do.” You let a silence settle between you before you spoke again. “What happened to you back there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Dean, you got fucking scary back there. I’ve never seen you like that,” you explained.

“I was just excited to get back to huntin’, (Y/N).”

“No, dude, I know you. You’re lethal but never… cold. You’re worrying me,” you admitted.

“Well, don’t, okay? I’m fine,” he said, lightly pushing you off him and taking the towel from you. He finished wiping himself off and began to walk inside. You were hurt but refused to let that show and followed him into the bar.

***

Rounds deep of Gordon and Dean swapping stories, you and Sam were exhausted of the talk of blood, guts, and gore. Gordon soon circled back to Dean’s kill of the evening. “Dean,” he laughed. “You gave that big-ass fang one hell of a haircut, my friend.”

“Thank you,” Dean grinned.

“That was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Was it, though?” you questioned, ignoring the way Dean’s gaze burned into the side of your head and keeping your eyes locked on Gordon.

“You all right, sweetheart?” Dean asked you.

“Fine,” you responded.

“Well, lighten up a little, sweetheart,” Gordon jested.

“He's the only one who gets to call me that,” you immediately stated firmly.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay. No offense meant. Just celebrating a little. Job well done.”

“Right. Well, decapitations aren't my idea of a good time, I guess,” Sam chimed in.

“Oh, come one, man, it's not like it was human. You've gotta have a little more fun with your job,” Gordon said simply.

"That's what it is, though," you broke in. "A job. I enjoy it, but bloodshed doesn't exactly get my rocks off." You kept your eyes locked on Gordon, who stared back.

Sam sighed and stood up. "Look, I'm not gonna bring you guys down. I'm just gonna go back to the motel. C’mon, (Y/N).”

“You sure?” Dean asked the two of you as you stood.

The two of you nodded wordlessly.

“Remind me to beat that buzzkill out of you two later, alright?” Dean joked, throwing Sam the keys.

You walked out angrily and didn’t say a word to Sam on the way back to the motel.

***

“I don’t like that guy,” you muttered to Sam as you paced around his and Dean’s motel room. “I really don’t like vampires, but I really don’t like that guy.”

“Yeah, me neither. I’m gonna call Ellen; see what she thinks.”

“Good idea.”

Sam raised the phone to his ear. “Hey, Ellen, uh, Sam Winchester… Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine. Got a question. You ever run across a guy named Gordon Walker?... And?... Well, we ran into him on a job and we're kinda working with him, I guess…” His face suddenly changed. “I— I thought you said he was a good hunter.”

You watched curiously as he listened to another thing she had to say before bidding the woman goodbye. “I’m guessing she told you he was bad news,” you said once he’d hung up.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Great.”

“Sam, I hate vamps more than probably anybody. But Dean was just… so… not Dean when he took the head off that one,” you said.

“I know. It’s buggin’ me, too,” he sighed. “I’m gonna go get a drink. You want one?”

“Just a water, please,” you replied.

Minutes went by, and Sam still hadn’t returned from the vending machine. You were beginning to get a little worried, but decided that maybe he just needed a second to himself. When ten minutes turned into fifteen, though, you really started to panic. You darted outside and looked over to the vending machine. Sam was nowhere to be found. You called Dean in a panic, saying, “Dean, Sam’s gone. I can’t find him anywhere.”

“What?! What the hell happened?!”

“I don’t know!” You ran a hand through your hair. “He just went to get a drink, and now he’s gone!”

“Well, maybe he just went for a walk,” Dean tried.

“No, Dean, he would’ve told me. What the hell is with you? Normally, you’d be flipping out by now.”

“Watch it, (Y/N). Hang tight. We’re on our way.” He hung up the phone.

‘We. Gordon. Fucking fantastic.’

***

When Dean and Gordon returned to the boys’ motel room, you clung to the back wall, feeling very uncomfortable around Gordon and Dean’s new attitude.

Gordon was discussing strategies on how to get Sam back with Dean— supposing the vampires you were hunting was behind this— when the man in question strolled through the door.

“Sam?!” you asked, pushing off the wall and running to him. You hugged him tightly around his neck. “Where the hell did you go?”

“Can I talk to you two alone?” he asked you and his brother.

“You mind chillin' out for a couple minutes?” Dean asked Gordon, who shook his head. You and the brothers exited the room and stood in the parking lot.

“Guys, maybe we've got to rethink this hunt.”

“What makes you say that, Sammy?” you asked.

“Where were you?” Dean questioned.

“In the nest.”

“What? You found it?” Dean questioned. Yours and his eyebrows shot up.

“They found me, man.”

“How'd you get out? How many'd you kill?” the older brother asked.

“None.”

“Well, Sam, they didn't just let you go.”

“That's exactly what they did.”

“No fucking way,” you said. “I know vamps, they wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, how do you explain the fact that I’m not dead, (Y/N)?”

You shrugged. “Good point. But what the hell, man?”

“Where is it?” Dean asked.

“I was blindfolded. I don't know.”

“Well, you've got to know something,” the older brother pressed.

Sam huffed. “We went over that bridge outside of town, but guys, listen. Maybe we shouldn't go after them.”

“Why not?” you and Dean asked.

“I don't think they're like other vampires. I don't think they're killing people.”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “You're joking. Then how do they stay alive? Or undead, or whatever the hell they are.”

“The cattle mutilations. They said they live off of animal blood.”

“And you believed them?”

“Look at me, Dean. They let me go without a scratch.” Sam held his arms out to either side of himself, encouraging you and Dean to examine him.

“Wait, so you're saying—” Dean cut himself off. “No, man, no way. I don't know why they let you go. I don't really care. We find 'em, we waste 'em.”

“Why?” Sam huffed.

“What part of 'vampires' don't you understand, Sam? If it's supernatural, we kill it, end of story. That's our job.”

“No, Dean, that is not our job. Our job is hunting evil. And if these things aren't killing people, they're not evil!” the brunet argued.

“Of course they're killing people, that's what they do. They're all the same, Sam. They're not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of them.”

“Dean, I’m with Sam on this one,” you finally said.

“Really, (Y/N)? You?” he looked at you stunned.

“Yeah, dude. I trust Sam. I hate vampires more than the next person. But I just don’t feel good about this hunt all around. I say we leave these vampires and Gordon in our dust,” you responded.

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Dean scoffed. “Gordon?”

“Why are you so defensive of him?” you questioned, voicing rising slightly.

“Because he’s been going after these things for a year, (Y/N), I think he knows,” he said.

“Sam called Ellen. She says he’s bad news.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

Dean looked at his brother. “You called Ellen?”

Sam nodded.

“And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her, (Y/N). No thanks, I'll go with Gordon.”

“Right. ‘Cause Gordon’s such an old friend,” you scowled. “You think I can’t see what this is?”

“What are you talking about?” Dean grunted.

“He's a substitute for your dad, isn't he? A poor one.”

“Shut up, (Y/N).”

“Hey! Don’t talk to me like that.” You stepped closer to Dean, face set angrily.

Dean wasn’t backing off. “Then don’t talk to me like that.”

The two of you were in each other’s faces, angrily staring each other down.

“You know what? I'm not even going to talk about this,” Dean grumbled, turning away from you.

“I know exactly what you’re doing, Dean. I can see right through you. I know how you feel. I lost my dad, too. But nobody can replace him. That hole you’re feeling hurts; I know. But this isn’t what’s gonna fix it.”

He snorted humorlessly. “Okay.” He walked away from you and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He turned to his brother. “I'm going to that nest. You don't want to tell me where it is, fine. I'll find it myself.”

You followed him back into his motel room. “We are not done with this conversation.”

Dean went to respond to you but noticed Gordon was gone before he could.

“You think he went after them?” Sam asked.

“Probably,” you said. “Dean, we have to stop him.”

“Really, (Y/N)? Because I say we lend a hand.”

Sam chimed in, “Just give me the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe me that.”

“Yeah, we'll see. I'll drive. Give me the keys.”

Sam gestured to the table where he’d set the keys earlier, but they were gone. “He snaked the keys.”

“Fucking awesome,” you grumbled, eyeing Dean angrily for his trust in Gordon.

Dean then had to hotwire his own car, cursing under his breath about how he’d “just fixed her.” “So the bridge, is that, uh, is that all you got?” Dean asked his brother as the three of you began to speed off.

“The bridge was four and a half minutes from their farm,” Sam explained.

“How do you know?” you asked.

“I counted.”

You smiled. This was another one of those moments where he reminded you a lot of Steven; he would've done the same thing.

The younger brother continued, “They took a left out of the farm, then turned right onto a dirt road, followed that for two minutes slightly up a hill, then took another quick right, and we hit the bridge.”

***

A while later, you and the brothers arrived at the farmhouse the vampires had been holing up in. You found Gordon circling a tied-up vampiress covered in scratches and her own blood.

“Guys. Come on in,” Gordon grinned at you.

“You’re fucking sick,” you growled, eyeing him dangerously.

“You wanna get a handle on your girlfriend there, pal?” Gordon said to Dean.

Dean ignored his comment. “What's going on?”

“Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood. She's going to tell us where all her little friends are, aren't you? Wanna help?”

Dean sighed. “Look, man—”

“Grab a knife. I was just about to start in on the fingers.” Gordon dragged his knife across her arm, cutting her deeply.

“Stop it!” you ordered.

“Hey, let's all just chill out, huh?” Dean said simultaneously.

“I’m completely chill,” Gordon responded coolly.

“Gordon, put the knife down,” Sam quietly pleaded. He went to step toward Gordon, but Dean held him back.

“Sounds like it's Sam here needs to chill,” Gordon scoffed.

“Just step away from her, alright?” you tried.

“You're right. I'm wasting my time here. This bitch will never talk. Might as well put her out of her misery.” Gordon pulled out a larger knife. “I just sharpened it, so it's completely humane.”

You stepped to block Gordon from reaching the vampire. “Gordon, I'm letting her go.”

Gordon pointed the knife at your chest, stopping you. “You're not doing a damn thing.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Gordon, let's talk about this,” Dean broke in, concern rising in his voice.

“What's there to talk about? It's like I said, Dean. No shades of gray.”

“Yeah. I hear ya. And I know how you feel.”

“Do you?” He turned to Dean, but kept the knife trained on your chest.

“That vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but this one—”

Gordon laughed. “Killed my sister? That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So I hunted her down, and I killed her myself.”

Dean’s awkward smile wavered. “You did what?”

“It wasn't my sister anymore; it wasn't human. I didn't blink. And neither would you.”

“Gordon, I had to do the same thing to my parents,” you said. “But my parents were trying to eat me. I think that’s a bit of a different circumstance than these guys who are just eating a few cows.”

“Then you should understand why I have to do this.” He pushed the tip of his knife into your chest, trying to get you to back up. You hissed in pain.

Dean immediately drew his gun and pointed it at Gordon. “Cut it out.”

“So you knew all along, then?” Sam continued provoking the hunter. “You knew about the vampires, you knew they weren't killing anyone. You knew about the cattle. And you just didn't care.”

Gordon chuckled. “Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Taking a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we're supposed to buy that? Trust me. Doesn't change what they are. And I can prove it.” With no warning, he grabbed your arm and sliced it open. You yelped as he held your arm out with one hand and held the knife to your throat with the other. He shoved you toward the vampire tied up in her chair.

Dean cocked the gun and demanded, “Let her go. Now!”

“Relax. If I wanted to kill her, she'd already be on the floor. Just making a little point.”

“Oh, you motherfucker—” he held your arm over the vampire while you struggled, causing blood to drip on her face. She hissed, and her fangs extended.

“Let me go!”

“You think she's so different? Still want to save her? Look at her. They're all the same. Evil, bloodthirsty.”

The vampire controlled herself, though, retracting her fangs and turning her face away. You softened at the sight as Dean continued to try and intimidate Gordon.

“You hear her, Gordon?” Sam said.

The vampire was stringing together a chant of “No” over and over again, trying to control herself.

You kicked Gordon between the legs and worked your way out of his grasp when the knife moved away from your neck. “We're done here.”

“Sam, get her out of here,” Dean told his brother.

He did as told, and when Gordon tried to step toward him, Dean caught his attention with the gun. “Uh-uh. Uh-uh! Gordon, I think you and I've got some things to talk about.”

“Get out of my way,” Gordon told you and Dean, who both had guns trained on him.

“Sorry,” Dean murmured.

“You're not serious,” the man scoffed.

“I'm having a hard time believing it too, but I know what I saw. If you want those vampires, you gotta go through me.”

Gordon nodded, considering. He looked down at his knife and jammed it into the table. “Fine.”

Dean looked at the knife and then his gun. He pulled the clip out of his Taurus and set it aside.

“Dean, what are you doing?” you asked.

“Trust me on this one.”

You kept your gun trained on Gordon as he lunged at Dean. You couldn’t get a clear shot as the two of them rumbled around. You couldn’t lie, they were pretty evenly matched in hand-to-hand combat. Gordon grabbed his knife again and held it to Dean’s throat. “What are you doing, man? You doing this for a fang? Come on, Dean, we're on the same side here.”

“I don't think so, you sadistic bastard.”

Gordon threw Dean across the room.

“Hey!” you said, cocking your gun. “Back off!”

“Stay out of this, sweetie,” Gordon told you before turning back to Dean. “You're not like your brother. You're a killer. Like me.”

Dean kicked Gordon down and hauled him up against the wall before elbowing him between the eyes. He pinned him under his elbow and slammed his head into another wall. “Oh, sorry.”

You chuckled despite the situation as you and Dean began to tie Gordon up.

“You know, I might be like you, and I might not. But you're the one tied up right now,” Dean monotoned down at Gordon. He turned to you when he seemed to come back to reality. “Are you okay?” He put his hands on either side of your face and tucked your hair behind your ear.

You nodded. “Fine.”

He grabbed your arm gently and looked over the cut Gordon had given you. Dean sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I’m gonna take care of that.”

“Dean, you don’t have to—”

“Yeah, I do.” He took a deep breath. “You were right.”

You gave him a lopsided smile. “I know.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to have a moment with you here,” he smirked.

You just smiled and looked down to the floor. “I know. Thank you.”

Sam came back into the room. “Did I miss anything?” he asked, noting Gordon tied up.

Dean shook his head. “Nah, not much. She get out okay?”

“Yeah. All of 'em did.”

Gordon groaned as he came back to.

“Then I guess our work here is done. How you doin', Gordy? Gotta tinkle yet?” Dean snarked, making you giggle.

Gordon just glared at him.

“Alright. Well, get comfy. We'll call someone in two or three days; have them come out, untie you.” He jammed Gordon’s knife into the table behind him.

“Ready to go, Dean?” Sam asked.

“Not yet. I guess this is goodbye. Well, it's been real.” He hit Gordon straight across the jaw, knocking him to the floor. “Okay. I'm good now. We can go.”

As you exited the farmhouse, you grabbed at your arm that suddenly began to sting.

“I wish we never took this job. It's jacked everything up,” Dean lamented.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives. What if we killed things that didn't deserve killing? You know? I mean, the way Dad raised us—” Dean trailed off and shook his head.

The younger brother’s expression softened. “Dean, after what happened to Mom, Dad did the best he could.”

“I know he did. But the man wasn't perfect. And the way he raised us, to hate those things; and man, I hate 'em. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill, I didn't even think about it; hell, I even enjoyed it.”

“You didn’t kill that girl, though,” you pointed out.

“No, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill 'em all.”

“Yeah, Dean, but you didn't. And that's what matters,” Sam reminded him softly.

“Yeah. Well, 'cause you two are a pain in my ass,” Dean grunted.

“Guess we might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass, then,” the brunet smirked.

“Thanks,” Dean said honestly.

“Don’t mention it.”

***

You returned to the motel to quickly shower off and gather your things. Dean followed you to your room and looked down at your arm. “Gimme that,” he said.

“What? My arm?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“This is our thing now, I guess, huh?” you asked as he pulled a chair up to where you sat on your bed, using your first aid kid to clean your wounds.

“Oh, god, don’t try and make this cute,” he groaned.

“Well, it is!” you protested. “I like how much you care.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, and you began to work on Dean’s wounds he’d sustained from Gordon.

“(Y/N), I—” he began, “I was a complete asshole back there. I just… it’s what I told Sam, I mean, this changes everything for me.”

“I get it,” you nodded. “Me, too. You know I fucking hate vampires, and I wanted to smoke every last one of them. But I don’t know. I’m starting to see the humanity in ‘em, I guess.”

“‘S funny. Humanity in monsters.”

“I know,” you giggled. “Sounds stupid saying it out loud. But think about it. That chick reacted the way any regular person does with severe addiction. Just makes you think, y’know? Maybe they’re more like us than we ever thought.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Don’t get all philosophical on me; I can’t keep up when you do.”

“Yeah, but you love it, though,” you teased.

“I do, actually,” he said, much to your surprise. “You’re so smart, it scares me sometimes.”

“Whoa, look at you and your compliments,” you joked, grinning.

“What?" he chuckled.

“Normally I'm the touchy-feely one,” you answered, giggling. “But thank you. It means a lot coming from you.” You finished wrapping a bandage around his knuckles. “There.”

He flexed them painfully in your upturned palm before playing with your hand in his. You looked up at him, breath hitching in your throat. “Dee, if you’re not ready—”

“(Y/N),” he said, leaning in to you. You surged forward and connected his lips with yours.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

325 notes · View notes