#MY UNIVERSE ANTHOLOGY SERIES | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

diamonddaze01 · 30 days ago

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welcome to....

The ANGST OLYMPICS

🥇Step into the ring of raw emotions and heart-wrenching moments with The Angst Olympics, a collection of Seventeen fics that will make you question everything you thought you knew about love, loss, and the ache of unspoken words. From bitter breakups to forbidden love, this anthology explores the dark side of human connection, where every moment feels like a delicate fracture, and every touch holds the weight of everything left unsaid.

Prepare yourself for a whirlwind of angst, as the members of Seventeen navigate the labyrinth of their own emotions—no holds barred, no happy endings guaranteed. This is not for the faint of heart.

🥈sign up for the taglist here!

🥉read on for commentary from @diamonddaze01 @ylangelegy @gotta-winwin @gyubakeries @lovetaroandtaemin @chugging-antiseptic-dye

BEAUTIFUL FOOL

🏃‍♂️ Athlete: barista!jeon wonwoo x f!reader 🏆 Event: angst | vaguely based on the great gatsby ❌ Penalty: really really sad (i’m not sorry) ⏲️ Duration: 5.1k 🥇 Highlights: Foolishly, Wonwoo let himself hope. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

TEETH

🏃 Athlete: wen junhui x f!reader 🏆 Event: co -actors au | toxic situationship | based on teeth, thin white lies, easier, and youngblood by 5SOS ❌ Penalty: suggestive scenes, allusions to sex, toxic behavior, alcohol consumption ⏲️ Duration: est 4k 🥇 Highlights: At night, in your hotel room, far from the paparazzi and the camera crew, Jun makes you believe he’s not the devil you know, but the lover you want. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

THESE LONELY NIGHTS

🏃 Athlete: kim mingyu x f!reader 🏆 Event: hanahaki au | based on bekhayali by arijit singh ❌ Penalty: mentions of death ⏲️ Duration: est 4k 🥇 Highlights: And even if you never come back, even if Mingyu fades to nothing, he will carry you in his heart forever—because that’s what love is. It doesn’t leave, even when it hurts. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

GOLDEN PROMISES

🏃 Athlete: xu minghao x f!reader 🏆 Event: failed soulmates au | based on raanjhan by parampara tandon ❌ Penalty: N/A ⏲️ Duration: est 3k 🥇 Highlights: And so it began. Minghao, who believed in fate, and you, who didn’t. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

A PRAYER (I COULD NEVER SAY)

🏃 Athlete: lee jihoon x f!reader 🏆 Event: orpheus x eurydice au | based on khuda jaane by KK and Shilpa Rao ❌ Penalty: major character death, heavy angst ⏲️ Duration: est 3k 🥇 Highlights: Jihoon had never believed in God. Not in prayer, not in salvation, not in fate. But then he met you, and everything changed. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

THESE BROKEN VOWS

🏃 Athlete: choi seungcheol x f!reader 🏆 Event: ceo!cheol ❌ Penalty: allusions to religion and the church ⏲️ Duration: 2k 🥇 Highlights: The vows weren’t meant for you, but every word felt like a knife sliding between your ribs. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

HEAVEN’S WAITING

🏃 Athlete: jihoon x reader 🏆 Event: alternate universe: non-idol, inspired by hintayan ng langit (2018), hurt/comfort ❌ Penalty: mentions of death, discussions of life after death, themes of grief ⏲️ Duration: est. 4K 🥇 Highlights: you’re two years late, you know? (or: you meet jihoon in The Middle, where he has overstayed his welcome.) 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

BEFORE THE COFFEE GETS COLD

🏃 Athlete: soonyoung x reader 🏆 Event: alternate universe: non-idol, inspired by the toshikazu kawaguchi series of the same name, hurt/comfort, magical realism ❌ Penalty: themes of grief ⏲️ Duration: est. 3-5K 🥇 Highlights: you and soonyoung run a cafe that offers visitors the chance to travel back in time. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

TAKE MY WORD FOR IT

🏃 Athlete: junhui x reader 🏆 Event: inspired by NIKI’s take care, childhood friends to almost lovers ❌ Penalty: N/A ⏲️ Duration: est. 1K 🥇 Highlights: when bitterness bites, novelty is nectar. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

THESE DISTANCES

🏃 Athlete: seungkwan x reader 🏆 Event: alternate universe: non-idol, inspired by mohit chauhan & pritam’s dooriyan ❌ Penalty: N/A ⏲️ Duration: est. 2K 🥇 Highlights: you and seungkwan are parallel lines— equidistant, never meeting— until one day, you aren’t. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

THE FINAL DEFENSE OF THE DYING

🏃 Athlete: hunger games mentor!jeonghan x tribute!reader 🏆 Event: alternate universe: the hunger games, dystopian fiction, romance ❌ Penalty: depictions of death, sex work, violence ⏲️ Duration: est. 3K-5K 🥇 Highlights: jeonghan has escorted twelve tributes to their deaths. he will do everything in his power to make sure you don’t face the same fate. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

WATCHING HIM FADE AWAY

🏃 Athlete: jeonghan x f!reader 🏆 Event: post-apocalyptic, conscious AI jeonghan ❌ Penalty: abstract death, wounds, hurt/comfort, angst, metaphors to death ⏲️ Duration: est 3k 🥇 Highlights: It’s been 497 days since Jeonghan had awoken, only to realize he was completely alone. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

I KNOW THE END

🏃 Athlete: vernon x f!reader 🏆 Event: fluff, angst, bridge to terabithia au ❌ Penalty: heavy angst, character death, being childhood best friends ⏲️ Duration: est 3.5k 🥇 Highlights: Vernon crosses the bridge with you every year, holding his breath and making a silent wish to keep you next to him forever. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

TO MISS THE MARK

🏃 Athlete: chan x goddess!reader 🏆 Event: heavy angst, greek mythology au ❌ Penalty: icarus’ story retelling, character death, heavy angst ⏲️ Duration: est 4k 🥇 Highlights: You watch Chan work his life away for his human ambitions, you watch him soar… fly, crash. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

WASTELAND, BABY!

🏃 Athlete: the8 x f!reader 🏆 Event: heavy angst, twd au, zombie apocalypse ❌ Penalty: character death, gore, blood ⏲️ Duration: est 2.5k 🥇 Highlights: Rumours say true love can heal infection. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

YOU BEFORE ME

🏃 Athlete: mingyu x f!reader 🏆 Event: hurt/comfort, athlete!mingyu, me before you au ❌ Penalty: life altering injury, very sad!, heavy sacrifice ⏲️ Duration: est 2k 🥇 Highlights: They say you can’t truly love someone until you give them your all - even if it kills you… 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

PICTURE YOU

🏃 Athlete: joshua x f!reader 🏆 Event: hurt/comfort, abstract storytelling ❌ Penalty: plato’s soulmate theory, angst, normal people aesc, miscommunication ⏲️ Duration: est 3k 🥇 Highlights: Plato’s theory of soulmates states that humans are never complete until they find their other half. What happens when they’re your soulmate but you’re not theirs? 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

GLIMPSE OF US

🏃 Athlete: mingyu x f!reader 🏆 Event: angst , exes to lovers , photographer!mingyu ❌ Penalty: drinking , implied sexual content , hurt/comfort ⏲️ Duration: 8.1k 🥇 Highlights: both you and mingyu know that your relationship ended a year ago. it was clear from the way you left and he never chased after you. then why do you still see glimpses of each other every time you’re trying to move on? 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

CRAWLING BACK TO YOU

🏃 Athlete: vernon x f!reader 🏆 Event: angst , exes , rockstar!vernon ❌ Penalty: drinking , mentioned drug use , missed opportunities and bad timing , closure , hurt/comfort (?) ⏲️ Duration: 3.1k 🥇 Highlights: hansol uses up his last phone call to you on your anniversary. only you’ve broken up, it’s four years too late, and you’ve already moved on. do you think his song still deserves a chance? 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

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🏃 Athlete: seungcheol x f!reader 🏆 Event: angst , right person wrong time , arranged marriage!au ❌ Penalty: broke!seungcheol , forced break-up , mc is betrothed to someone else ⏲️ Duration: TBA 🥇 Highlights: seungcheol had always thought love would be enough to hide the obvious facts. he’s dirt poor and doesn’t have enough to give you, the daughter of a wealthy businessman, a comfortable life. but sometimes, even love isn’t strong enough to withstand the hardships life brings your way. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

REWRITE THE STARS

🏃 Athlete: wonwoo x f!reader 🏆 Event: angst , forbidden love , royalty!au , princess!mc , peasant!wonwoo ❌ Penalty: major character death , slightly graphic , mentions of blood and injuries , physical torture ⏲️ Duration: TBA 🥇 Highlights: there’s a lot of things wonwoo isn’t supposed to want. yet, he wants you. never mind that you just happen to be the one thing that’s the farthest out of his reach. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

GLOOMY SKIES

🏃 Athlete: joshua x f!reader 🏆 Event: angst , friends to strangers , hanahaki disease!au ❌ Penalty: major character death , mutual pining , but at the wrong times , unrequited love , slight mentions of blood ⏲️ Duration: TBA 🥇 Highlights: you had sworn to yourself that you weren’t in love with joshua anymore. that it had just been a fleeting moment at the wrong time. then why were the bouquet of water lilies in your hand covered in rose petals? 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

Soul Like Me

🏃 Athlete: Joshua x fem!reader 🏆 Event: Non idol AU, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff ❌ Penalty: Breakups, suggestive content, alcoholism, mentioned sex but no smut, no happy ending ⏲️ Duration: 5k-6k 🥇 Highlights: You and Joshua have been friends for most of your life, and you thought that you always would be. Turns out, your feelings for each other are much stronger than you thought, but love isn’t always enough to keep a relationship strong. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

I’m A Loser, Honey

🏃 Athlete: Vernon x fem!reader 🏆 Event: Angst, hurt/comfort, non-idol AU, some fluff I guess, heavily inspired by the relationship between Husk and Angel Dust from Hazbin Hotel ❌ Penalty: Very unhealthy relationships, cheating, mentioned sex but no smut, suggestive flirting, alcoholism/addiction, Reader is a sex worker, no happy ending ⏲️ Duration: 7k-8k 🥇 Highlights: All Vernon wanted was to get you away from Jeonghan. If he’d known how your affair would end, he would have never gotten involved with you. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

Never Enough

🏃 Athlete: Woozi x fem!reader 🏆 Event: Non-idol AU, angst, some fluff ❌ Penalty: Woozi’s personality is heavily inspired by “Are You Satisfied?” by Marina, arguing, toxic relationship, anxiety and depression, suggestive but no outright smut, no happy ending ⏲️ Duration: 5k-6k 🥇 Highlights: Jihoon was willing to do whatever it took to be the best, even if it cost him his marriage. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

Ocean View

🏃 Athlete: Siren!Jun x marine biologist!reader 🏆 Event: Fantasy AU, angst, fluff ❌ Penalty: Suggestive content but no smut, major character death, unethical scientists, no happy ending ⏲️ Duration: 8k-10k 🥇 Highlights: Junhui knew that you were his soulmate from the moment that he laid eyes on you. What he didn’t know, however, was that his love for you would cost him his life. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

Take This Heart

🏃 Athlete: DK x fem!reader 🏆 Event: Non idol AU, fluff, angst ❌ Penalty: Unhealthy relationship, depression, mentions of cheating, bittersweet ending ⏲️ Duration: 6k-7k 🥇 Highlights: All Seokmin wants is for his fiancee to act like she loves him again. 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

My Fair Lady

🏃 Athlete: Minghao x Reader 🏆 Event: Non-idol au, heavy angst, inspired by the myth of pygmalion by ovid ❌ Penalty: Character death, mentions of drinking, slight profanities (maybe) ⏲️ Duration: under 5k 🥇 Highlights: Minghao was proud of two things: his rationality and his artistry. But why did you have to burn both to the ground? 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

Worth It

🏃 Athlete: Jun x Reader 🏆 Event: Non-idol au, slight regency elements, inspired by Jun’s cover of ‘Worth It’ ❌ Penalty: hurt/comfort, angst, stableboy! jun ⏲️ Duration: under 2k 🥇 Highlights: “But I've left no room in my heart to turn back So if we're wrong, let's be wrong together.” 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

No Stone Left Unturned

🏃 Athlete: Soonyoung x Reader 🏆 Event: Non-idol au, futuristic setting, mentions of apocalypse ❌ Penalty: Major character death, blood ⏲️ Duration: 1-3 k 🥇 Highlights: Soonyoung just has to find this one gemstone and he is all set. But in that process will he lose the gem he already has? 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

Happy Ever After

🏃 Athlete: Seokmin x Reader 🏆 Event: Non-idol au, inspired by The Phantom of the Opera ❌ Penalty: Major character death, mentions of self-harm, alchoholism ⏲️ Duration: under 5k 🥇 Highlights: One last play for Seokmin but he can still feel the phantoms of your love. Or can he? 🏋️‍♀️ Warm-up: Find the teaser here. Watch the game LIVE --- here.

#angstolympics #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt drabble #svt fic #svt angst

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supernotnatural2005 · 18 days ago

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Sexual Encounters with Dean Winchester - Edging

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Exploring new kinks with Dean. How far can you push him before he breaks?

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/tags: SMUT! (18+ONLY!!!), edging, swearing, kinks, fluff

AN: So for one of my bingo submissions, I was given the prompt Wax Play < (Which you can read here). I had mentioned making it into an anthology, kink series, and this kinda just fell out of my head and onto paper. 😅 So, I thought it would work well as part of that universe? I'd say this is a bit of a prequel, another kink exploration. If you would like to see more of these, please let me know? 💕

Masterlist

Dean woke up to the feeling of you.

Soft, warm, draped across him like you belonged there—which, at this point, you damn well did. The first thing he felt was your fingers, featherlight as they traced over his stomach, dipping beneath the hem of his boxers, not quite touching where he already ached from the morning alone. The second thing he felt was your lips, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along his jaw, down his neck, nipping just enough to make his breath hitch.

“Morning,” you murmured against his skin, voice still thick with sleep.

Dean groaned, blinking blearily as he reached for you, pulling you on top of him so he could kiss you properly.

Your mouth was warm, inviting, your lips moving against his in that way that made his entire body react instantly. The lazy slide of your tongue against his sent heat pooling in his stomach, and when you rocked against him — the feel of the warm dampness of your panties rubbing against him — he swore under his breath.

His hands roamed over your body, slipping under your shirt, fingers tracing the curves he knew so damn well. He needed you—needed you under him, around him, all of you — but you had other plans.

Your touch turned purposeful, teasing, your nails raking lightly over his chest, your fingers slipping lower, brushing over his cock through the fabric of his boxers.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his grip tightening on your hips as his head fell back against the pillow. His body was already strung tight, aching for more, and just when he thought you’d finally give it to him—

You stopped.

Dean let out a strangled noise as you rolled off him with a smirk, stretching like you hadn’t just left him hanging.

He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning as he ran a hand down his face. Right. He fucking agreed to this.

This wasn’t out of the blue—not with you.

From the start, you had met him toe-to-toe, not just in the hunt, but in everything else. Sex included. You matched him in ways no one else ever had—you enjoyed it just as much as he did, never shying away from what you wanted, and you had been giving him a run for his money since day one.

Recently, though, you had started pushing things further—both of you had. It wasn’t just about good sex anymore (though, damn, it was always good); it was about exploring, testing each other’s limits, finding new ways to unravel each other. Some things were new, things neither of you had done before, and some were things you’d just never done together.

And that was how, last night, wrapped up in bed with you, his body still buzzing from round two, you had propped yourself up on your elbow and given him that look.

"Let me edge you tomorrow."

At first, he had laughed, figuring you were just messing with him. But then your fingers had danced across his skin, your voice dipping into something sultry and teasing as you explained—

"I mean it, Dean. No touching yourself, no finishing until I say."

That had sobered him up real fast.

You had gone on to say you wanted to see him unravel under you, to see him desperate, begging—something you knew he wasn’t used to. And Dean, ever the cocky bastard, had just smirked.

"Sweetheart, you can try."

Yeah. Big fucking mistake.

Now, here he was, hard as a rock and throbbing — and it was only the start of the day — while you walked into the bathroom like you hadn’t just ruined his life.

“…You’re evil.”

You just winked at him before shutting the door.

Dean groaned, rolling onto his stomach to press his face into the pillow. He was in for a long fucking day.

Dean was still on edge by the time the three of you sat down at the diner for breakfast. He’d taken an ice-cold shower, drank half a pot of coffee, and tried not to think about how smug you looked every time he shifted uncomfortably.

The place was your standard roadside joint—checkered floors, peeling leather seats, the smell of grease and coffee thick in the air. It was the kind of place Dean loved, under any other circumstances. But right now, he was too distracted, too worked up.

You sat right beside him, thigh pressed to his, radiating warmth. It shouldn’t have been a problem. Should’ve been normal. But it wasn’t—not after you’re little stunt this morning.

He shifted in his seat, adjusting himself as subtly as possible. Sam was talking, something about the case, and Dean forced himself to tune in.

"Mark White," Sam said, tapping away on the laptop in front of him. "Every witness we've talked to mentions him—he’s been spotted with all the missing girls. Seems to be using some kind of college chatroom, specifically targeting young girls. He lures them in, promises VIP access to this underground club, and then poof—they’re gone."

Dean nodded, trying to focus. “So, what, we thinking lone vamp, or is this a full nest situation?”

Before Sam could answer, Dean felt it—your hand, settling lightly on his thigh.

At first, it was nothing. Just a casual touch. He forced himself to ignore it, to listen as Sam continued.

"I say we divide and conquer," Sam said. "One of us monitors the chatrooms, see if he tries to bait another girl. The other two stake out the club tonight—see if we can confirm he's our guy and if he’s really working alone.”

Dean hummed in acknowledgment, willing his body to relax. But then your fingers started moving—just barely, a slow, absentminded stroke along the inside of his thigh. Innocent enough, but his whole body reacted, tightening with anticipation.

He swallowed thickly, staring down at his coffee cup, burning a hole in the black liquid as his forced himself to focus.

“I can set up an alert on the chatroom, see if he sends out any invites while you two are at the club,” Sam said, clicking and scrolling on the device. “Might give us an idea of who he’s targeting next.”

Dean nodded stiffly. “Yeah. Smart thinkin’.”

Then your fingers inched higher, and his breath hitched.

Shit.

He felt your nails rake lightly over the denim of his jeans, deliberate this time, your touch lingering, teasing. His jaw clenched, his grip tightening on his coffee mug. He could feel himself hardening, already so on edge from the morning that even this—barely anything—was too much.

But Sam was still talking. Dean forced himself to stay in the conversation. He managed a nod, as he lifted the mug to his lips, and offer a gruff “right”, even as you slid your hand just a little higher, fingertips grazing the seam of his jeans.

He almost choked on his coffee.

"You good?" Sam asked, frowning at him.

Dean cleared his throat, shifting in his seat as you gave him an innocent glance, the corners of your mouth twitching.

Fucking tease.

"Yeah, yeah. Just, uh—" He swallowed hard, scrambling for an excuse. “Dunno, maybe I’m coming down with something.”

Sam frowned. “You do look kinda flushed.”

Dean exhaled sharply, not daring to look at you. “Yeah, well—”

You squeezed.

Dean nearly doubled over.

"—shit," he muttered under his breath, gripping the edge of the table.

Sam’s frown deepened. “Maybe you should sit this one out.”

“No!” Dean said quickly, maybe too quickly. “No, I’m fine. Probably just something I ate.”

Sam shook his head and chuckled. “I mean, you do live off red meat fried in cheese and products only made with corn syrup.”

You snickered at that, your hand finally retreating. Dean gave you a look—one that said you’re gonna pay for that—but all you did was smile sweetly, fake concern in your eyes.

He was gonna kill you. If you didn’t kill him first.

By the time you and Dean were parked outside the club that night, he was barely holding it together.

The teasing hadn’t stopped at the diner. No, you had spent the entire goddamn day tormenting him.

At the precinct, you had worn that tight-ass FBI pencil skirt, the one that hugged your curves just right, riding up slightly whenever you bent over to grab something. And you’d made sure to bend extra slow, knowing his eyes would be on you.

You hadn’t even touched him, but it didn’t matter. You’d glance over your shoulder with that smug little smirk, bite the tip of your pen and look him dead in the eye as you wrapped your lips around it, and every single time, Dean had to force himself to look away before he made a scene.

And now here you were, alone in the Impala, the dim glow of the streetlights casting a soft glow over your features, that look in your eye and Dean already knew he was screwed.

“Sweetheart,” he half-heartedly warned, his voice already hoarse.

“What?” you asked innocently, reaching for his belt.

Dean groaned, his head thudding against the seat. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

You just grinned. “We’ve got time.”

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but then your hand was slipping inside his jeans, and whatever he was about to say turned into a strangled groan.

Your touch was slow, deliberate, your fingers wrapping around his cock with just the right amount of pressure. You stroked him to full mast, your lips trailing along his jaw, sucking at his pulse point making him twitch in your palm.

“Fuck,” Dean drawled as you lowered onto your front on the bench seat, your mouth replacing your hand, wrapping around him like a warm hug. Your tongue teased the sensitive tip until his hands were gripping the seat, white-knuckled, and then you took him all the way.

“Holy—,” he choked on his own breath, his hips jerking as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper, faster, gagging slightly as you pushed him to the back of your throat.

It was too much. The whole day had been too much. He was right there, so close it hurt—

And then…

You pulled away, and Dean actually whined.

You sat up and wiped at your mouth, giving him one last smirk as you settled back into your seat like nothing happened.

Dean slammed his head against the seat again, dragging a hand down his face. “I hate you.”

You hummed, pleased. “No, you don’t.”

Of course, you were right.

The motel door had barely clicked shut before Dean was on you. His hands gripped your hips, lips crashing against yours in a desperate kiss—hot, messy, needy. He was shaking, breath ragged as he pressed you back against the door.

But you weren’t giving in that easy.

You smiled against his lips, teasing, and broke away just as he tried to deepen it. His frustrated groan sent a thrill through you.

"Strip," you ordered, voice honeyed but firm.

His pupils blew wide, his body thrumming with anticipation. He obeyed, yanking off his flannel and t-shirt, kicking off his boots as you stepped back toward the bed, sitting on the edge with an air of complete control.

By the time he was bare, standing in front of you, he was already rock-hard, the tip of his cock flushed deep red, a bead of precum glistening at the tip. He ached; every nerve raw from how you’d spent the entire day torturing him.

You spread your legs slightly, a silent invitation, and he stepped closer, but you placed a firm hand on his thigh, stopping him.

"On your knees," you murmured.

Dean exhaled sharply through his nose, jaw tightening, but he obeyed. He sank to the floor, settling between your parted thighs, hands twitching at his sides, aching to touch—but he knew that wasn’t how this worked. Not tonight.

"You’ve been so good for me today," you praised, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. "Taking everything I’ve given you."

"Too much," he ground out, frustration darkening his eyes. "You—fuck, sweetheart, you ruined me today.”

You pouted in faux sympathy and leaned in to kiss him, slow and teasing. Dean chased after it instantly, deepening it with desperate hunger. You could feel the way his lips trembled, the barely contained need in every press of his mouth. He wanted more. Craved it. You smirked against his lips before pulling back, cupping his jaw when he tried to follow.

"You think you can last just a little longer, baby?" You cooed, trailing soft kisses along his cheek, down the sharp cut of his jaw, and then lower, pressing against the thick cord of his throat. His eyes shut tight, a shuddering sigh slipping from his lips at the feel of you.

His cock throbbed painfully, every nerve in his body screaming for relief, but your praise—fuck, your praise—was just as intoxicating as your touch. He needed to hear it as much as he needed to come.

So, he nodded.

"I want you to make me cum, baby," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear before you nipped at his lobe. Dean shivered. "And I promise, I’ll touch you."

A switch flipped.

He was on his feet in seconds, grabbing you, shoving you down onto the mattress with enough force to make you gasp. His movements were rough, desperate as he stripped you bare, tossing your clothes aside like they were in his way—because they were.

And then he saw you.

Laid out beneath him, glistening, perfect, drenched for him in the dim glow of the bedside lamp.

"Fuck," he groaned, breath hitching.

"It’s all because of you, Dean," you told him, voice breathy, chest rising and falling faster. He watched your eyes flutter shut, your head tipping back as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin of your thighs.

"You have no idea how hot you are," you continued, voice unravelling, "how fucking beautiful. Watching you restrain yourself, the desperation to cum—"

Dean growled low in his throat and bit down, sucking a mark into the inside of your thigh. You gasped, back arching off the bed, and the sound shot straight through him, straight to his cock. He groaned, hips rolling into the mattress for any kind of relief, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

When his gaze met yours again, you were smirking. Of course you were. You knew exactly what you were doing. You knew how much he loved this—your taste, your praise, the way your body surrendered to him.

You reached down, cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his bottom lip. His lashes fluttered, eyes slipping shut at the contact, like he was savouring it. Then he opened them again, gaze burning.

"Make me cum with your perfect mouth, baby."

Dean let out a low, guttural noise and then—he was on you.

The first swipe of his tongue was slow, deliberate, and he groaned at the taste of you, his fingers digging into the plush flesh of your thighs as he spread you wider. He licked into you, drinking you in, his nose pressed against your clit, his stubble scraping the soft skin of your inner thighs.

"Jesus," he rasped, voice muffled against your cunt. "You taste so fucking good."

He couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t stop. He flicked his tongue over your clit, sucking it into his mouth, and the sound you made—needy, wrecked—made his cock twitch against the mattress. His hips rutted down, searching for friction, but it was secondary to this. To you.

"Dean—fuck—" You whimpered, thighs trembling around his head. "Just like that, baby—feels so good."

His groan vibrated against you.

Praises. You knew what they did to him. He ate them up as greedily as he devoured you.

Your fingers fisted in his hair, tugging him closer, and he moaned, tongue working you over with precision, like he was born to do this. The way you came apart in his mouth, the way your body clenched and shuddered beneath him—it was his fucking religion.

"Dean—" Your voice cracked, high and needy.

"You’re so good at this," you gasped, making his cock throb painfully at the praise. “Such a good boy for me, taking care of me first.”

Dean groaned into you, the vibrations sending another shockwave of pleasure through your body. His grip on your thighs tightened, his nails digging into your skin as he redoubled his efforts, desperate to hear more.

“Oh, God. Don’t stop," you whimpered, your breath hitching. “You’re so fucking perfect, so good.”

A deep, wrecked sound tore from his throat, his hips rutting against the mattress as if your words alone could get him off. He was lost in you, in the slick heat of your body, in the way you fell apart just for him.

"Come on, baby," you cooed, threading your fingers through his hair again, tugging just the way you knew he liked. "Make me cum."

Dean damn near growled, his tongue flicking and curling against you with a new sense of urgency, chasing that moment—chasing your pleasure like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

And then—

You shattered, back arching off the mattress as your release hit, pleasure rolling through you in waves. Dean groaned, gripping your thighs tighter as he licked you through it, savouring every pulse, every shudder.

And fuck, watching you like this—watching you lose yourself because of him—he can never get enough of it. Feeling it, the way you pulse against his tongue, knowing he’d done that, he’d unravelled you completely—it nearly wrecked him.

When you finally caught your breath, your fingers slid from his hair, caressing over his jaw, his cheek as Dean climbed up your body, and then you pulled him down, kissing him deep and thorough, humming at the taste of yourself on his tongue.

And fuck, was it hot.

He was so lost in the kiss, he barely had time to process it before you pushed him onto his back.

His head hit the pillows, his chest heaving, every muscle in his body tense with need.

Then you were kissing down his torso, slow and teasing, your lips tracing the ridges of his abs, the dips of his hips. His cock jerked against his stomach, swollen and aching. You dragged your lips along his length, your breath hot against his sensitive skin.

You kept him there, right on the edge, pushing him higher and higher, until every muscle in his body was trembling. His hips bucked slightly, chasing more, but you stayed just out of reach, dragging your tongue along his length, your touch too light, your pace too slow.

His head tipped back, throat exposed as he let out a ragged moan, chest heaving. "Fucking hell, sweetheart—"

You hummed against him, feeling the way he twitched, saw the way he clenched his jaw so tight it might crack.

Then you wrapped your lips around him—soft, slow, but not enough. Never enough.

"Jesus, sweetheart," he groaned, voice hoarse. "Please—"

But you didn’t give in.

You kept him there, right on the edge, holding him in that unbearable place of need.

And Dean realised, for the first time, that he actually couldn’t take it.

His head fell back against the pillows, his hands gripping the sheets so hard they might rip. "Impala."

You froze.

Dean’s entire body was shaking now, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. "Baby, please," he rasped. "I can’t—I need—"

You didn’t make him beg any further.

This time, when you wrapped your lips around him again, you didn’t tease. You didn’t hold back. You took him deep, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked him hard, your hand stroking the base in tight, relentless motions.

Dean choked on a curse, his hips jerking as his body locked up beneath you. His fingers twisted into the sheets, shaking, like he was barely holding himself together. "Oh, fuck—"

You didn’t stop. You wanted him to let go. Your tongue flicked over the sensitive tip, your pace never faltering as you worked him with everything you had—your mouth, your hands, all of it, pushing him higher and higher.

Dean let out a strangled groan, his abs clenching, his thighs trembling as his entire body tensed. And then, he shattered.

A guttural moan tore from his throat as pleasure slammed into him, so intense it stole his breath. His release hit him like a freight train, so hard and fast his vision blurred, white-hot euphoria crashing through him in waves. You milked him for all he was worth, working him through it, swallowing every, last drop until his body jerked beneath you, raw and oversensitive.

"Jesus Christ," he rasped, his voice wrecked and hoarse. His head lolled to the side; his arm flung weakly over his face as he tried to catch his breath.

You crawled up beside him, pressing a kiss to his damp skin, running your fingers through his sweat-soaked hair.

"Did so good for me, Dean," you murmured.

He let out a breathless, exhausted laugh, still trying to regain control of his body. "I think you just killed me, sweetheart."

You smiled against his chest. "Worth it?"

Dean groaned, rolling onto his side to pull you flush against him, his grip still firm despite how completely spent he was. "Yeah," he admitted, voice rough. "Fucking worth it."

And as he drifted off, tangled with you in the aftermath, he was already wondering what the hell you’d come up with next time.

Because patience might not have been his strong suit.

But he’d suffer through it for you.

Every single time.

AN: Okay I hope y'all survived that one? 👀😅 i’m sorry i couldn’t resist with some Dean smut for Valentine’s day 😏🥵

If there are any other kinks you guys can think of or would like to see, I'd be happy to take requests! Who doesn't enjoy some kinky times with Dean? 🥵 As always thank you for reading. ❤️

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester Tag List

@bettystonewell , @nancymcl , @happyfxckinghorrors , @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @cevansbaby-dove @shadysoulangel @piptoost @star-yawnznn @deansimpalababy @megara0224 @hobby27 @idontwannabehere7 @maddie0101 @kr804573 @shadysoulangel @mrs-nesmith @zepskies @ohheyguyss @suckitands33

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #spn fanfic #spnfamily #jensen ackles #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean x you #dean smut #abbalina writes

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kissablelips-desireslure-vol1 · 1 year ago

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MY UNIVERSE: YOU ARE MY SOUL MATE (2023, 4th STORY)

MONTHON VISESHSIN (as Korn)

PIYAWAT PHONGKANITANON (as Bud)

#THE KISSING CHRONICLES #MY UNIVERSE ANTHOLOGY SERIES #STORY 4 EPISODE 7 #YOU ARE MY SOUL MATE #FANTASY KISS #KISSING IN A DREAM #INTEREST SPARKED #My GIFS #MYGIFSET #MY-GIF-EDIT #BL-BAM-BEYOND FAMILY OF BLOGS

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madeinjapan-thailand-blbambeyond · 1 year ago

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MADE IN THAILAND

PIYAWAT PHONGKANITANON

[Nickname: TOP]

MONTHON VISESHSIN

[Nickname: MICK]

CHOKKORN DEOTRAKUL

[Nickname: JUNIOR]

#MADE IN THAILAND #MY UNIVERSE ANTHOLOGY SERIES #STORY 4 (EPISODES 7 & 8)#YOU ARE MY SOUL MATE #BUD IS BEING PURSUED UNWILLINGLY #KORN IS EXTREMELY INTERESTED IN BUD AND VICE VERSA IT APPEARS #My GIFS #MYGIFSET #MY-GIF-EDIT #From My Main Blog: BL-BAM-BEYOND #WORD IS THESE TWO HAVE THEIR VERY OWN BL UPCOMING #BL-BAM-BEYOND FAMILY OF BLOGS

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daisynik7 · 1 year ago

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Cure for a Hangover

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.9k

cw: next-door neighbor Kishibe, age gap (I’m thinking at least fifteen years, Kishibe pushing mid-forties, reader is in her late 20s/early 30s), alcohol consumption, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), blowjob, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, pet names (sweetheart, angel, kiddo)

Summary: Kishibe is your mysterious, brooding, and significantly older next-door neighbor. You’ve lived beside him for a while now, only exchanging basic pleasantries out of politeness, never anything more. One night, he comes home drunk, or so he thinks. It’s not his door he’s slumped again; it’s yours.

Author’s Notes: It’s been a minute since I wrote for Kishibe and I really do miss it. This old man continues to do wonders to me, so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Taglist: @batafuraikisu @neverlandlostchild @bloompompom @dprkento @a-listaire @man-knees @demonwoman (bc Kishibe using kiddo as a pet name is living in my head rent free thanks to you)

part 3 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

It’s not often that you’re met with a man slumped against your door, but here you are, staring down at your next-door neighbor, Kishibe, doing just that.

It’s past two in the morning now, and you’ve just come back from your own night out with your friends. You’re not nearly as drunk as you were three hours ago, after pounding glasses of Chardonnay while watching cheesy romance movies at your best friend’s apartment. And you’re certainly not as inebriated as the man before you, who absolutely reeks of liquor, even from a small distance away.

You inspect the scene thoroughly, unsure what to do in this scenario. Kishibe is basically a stranger to you. Sure, you’ve exchanged basic pleasantries here and there over that past year since you moved in. That’s as far as it goes. You have no idea what his profession is, though you have a solid guess as to what it could be, given his work attire and overall physique. While you’ve never run into one yourself, devils run rampart in Tokyo, hell-bent on causing chaos wherever they spawn. Kishibe looks like a Devil Hunter, whose job is to eliminate these monsters. It’s intriguing, that’s for sure, but you’ve never mustered the courage to ask him about it, leaving him to maintain his mysterious demeanor.

However, right now, you don’t see a Devil Hunter in front of you. Instead, it’s a simple man who is very drunk and very much in your way.

Deciding to help him, because that’s the only choice you have if you want to get into your apartment, you kneel down to search his overcoat, patting the breast pocket for keys. When you find nothing, you move to his pants, retrieving only his phone. His eyes are closed and he’s snoring, blissfully unaware of your predicament in his drunken stupor. You take this time to study his face. He’s looks much older up close; not only that, he’s even more handsome than you originally thought. There’s a prominent scar running from his mouth to his jaw, surely an interesting story behind it. You’re tempted to trace it delicately with your finger, but you ultimately resist the urge, snapping out of it to investigate his phone for any clues.

There are several missed calls and texts from a person named Kenji. You use the Face ID feature to unlock his phone, thanking the universe that even with his eyes shuts, it works. Not wanting to pry more than necessary, you check the most recent texts for the answer to your question: Where the hell are his keys?

Kenji: you left your keys at the bar, come back now. I’m closing up soon

Kenji: I’m not waiting for your ass

Kenji: I’m leaving, get them tomorrow

You read over the messages once more, groaning quietly to yourself at your dumb luck. Desperate now, you resort to the next logical step.

“Hey,” you say, tapping him lightly on the cheek, rousing him awake. “Kishibe.”

Slowly, but surely, he opens his eyes, half-lidded, struggling to focus on you. “Huh?” His breath is heavy with liquor, most likely whiskey. His voice is deep and gravelly, and you hate admitting that’s it’s almost sexy. Well, not almost. It is sexy.

Letting the inappropriate thought fade, you say, “You’re at the wrong apartment. This is mine.”

He blinks three times, opening his eyes properly to stare at you, expression confused. “Am I dead?”

You bite your lip, holding back laughter. “No, you’re not.”

“Am I in heaven?”

You shake your head, repeating, “No, you’re not.”

“Then why is there any angel here with me?” He sounds sincere, and you can’t help but break out into a genuine smile.

“I’m not an angel,” you reply, giggling.

His lips curve into a cocky grin. “You sure? You look like one to me.” Cheeky bastard, hitting on you while he’s plastered. And look at you, finding it endearing when he does.

Slightly more relaxed, you slide the phone into his breast pocket, standing up to unlock your door. You can’t just leave him out here all night, so you decide to let him stay with you until he’s sober enough to call a locksmith. You jiggle the keys, turning the knob to open the door, and suddenly, there’s a loud thud, and then a delayed, “Ow.” He’s laid flat in the middle of your doorway, hitting his head on the hardwood. You feel guilty, not having the foresight to see this coming. His body is much sturdier than you anticipated.

You kneel down, apologizing. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

He winces, rubbing the back of his skull, then gives you a goofy smile. “I’ll be fine. Think I can get a kiss to make it feel better?”

You roll your eyes at him, once again unable to contain your laughter. “I’ll get you some ice. Let’s get you to the couch first, okay?”

Somehow, some way, whether it’s spurred by adrenaline or desperation to finally get some sleep in your own bed, you manage to haul him up by the armpits and drag him the short distance to your couch. You fluff a pillow and place it under his head, making it as comfortable as possible for him. “I’ll get the ice now.”

Before you can stand up, he grabs your wrist, gripping you tightly. “What about my kiss?”

“Nope. Not happening. I bet you don’t even know my name,” you challenge him.

He doesn’t respond, loosening his hold so you can get up. You fill a plastic bag with ice, returning to surround the back of his head with it. Eventually, he utters your name, eyes closed while he relaxes to your touch. He peeks at you with one eye open, waiting for you to confirm.

You nod, grinning. “So, you do know my name.”

“Can I get my kiss now?” he teases, gazing at you.

You shake your head. “Definitely not. I will not take advantage of a drunk person, that’s fucked up.”

He sighs, exhaling deeply, broad chest rising and falling. “Yeah, you’re right. I knew you were a good girl.”

You try not to hang on to those words, especially the last two, already fluttering below your belly over it. Grabbing his hand to replace yours, you instruct him to keep it there while you return to the kitchen to pour him a large glass of water. Within the short amount of time you’re gone, he falls asleep, his hand barely holding onto to the ice pack.

You smile to yourself, setting the glass of water down on the coffee table to continue attending to his minor injury. After a while, when you notice that there isn’t any bump or swelling developing, you stop icing him. He snores peacefully in a deep sleep, no sign of waking up anytime soon. As gingerly as you can, you remove his overcoat, draping it over the back of the couch. You set his phone next to the glass of water, for easy access. His tie looks tight around his collar, so you loosen it. Finally, you remove his shoes from his feet, laying them by the front door near your own pair. You’re certain he’ll wake up in the morning, feeling like shit, so you place a bottle of painkillers by his phone in case he needs them.

It's past three now by the time you’re dressed down in your pajamas and snuggled in bed. You keep the door ajar, listening to Kishibe’s steady breathing in the living room, treating it like white noise to help you fall fast asleep.

~~~

Kishibe wakes up with his head throbbing. He stares up at the ceiling, not recognizing it as his own. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that this isn’t his apartment.

He turns, seeing his phone, a glass of water, and a bottle of painkillers on the coffee table arm’s reach of him. Slowly, he sits up, grimacing from the pain, downing all the water in three large gulps. He checks his phone, thankfully still on its last leg of battery. It’s almost eleven on a Saturday morning and he’s sure Kenji, his bartender friend, is already awake, preparing for the day.

“Kenji,” he mutters, throat hoarse from last night’s festivities.

His friend first berates him for forgetting his keys, then laughs when Kishibe explains that somehow, some way, he managed to fall asleep on someone else’s couch. He could have woken up in worst conditions, that’s for sure.

Kenji agrees to stop by after running his errands, in about two hours or so. Beggars can’t be choosers, so Kishibe has no choice but to wait. When they’re phone conversation is over, he sinks back into the cushions, trying to piece everything together from just a few hours ago. He recalls snippets of it, and he grows increasingly embarrassed as the memories play vividly in his brain. He’s certain he called his neighbor an angel, and even more sure that he was begging her for a kiss. How shit-faced was he to compel him to do that? Obviously, very. How could he let his intrusive thoughts blurt out of his mouth like that?

Call it cliché or whatever, but yes, Kishibe is attracted his young, pretty neighbor next door. However, he’s held off on making a move because he doesn’t want to make things between them awkward. Once he crosses that line, their relationship gets more complicated. And the devil knows that Kishibe doesn’t do complicated. So, he’s content with gazing from afar, exchanging basic small talk with one another whenever they pass each other in the hallway. That’s as far as it’s gone with her, and that’s as far as it will go.

Of course, that’s all fucked up now thanks to his drunken antics from last night.

Before he can make his move, he hears a bedroom door creak open from behind him. She comes out, looking fresh out of the shower, dressed in skimpy pajama bottoms that are short enough to expose that tantalizing curve right below her ass. Surely, she’s doing this on purpose, right? She has to know how fucking sexy she looks right now, there’s no way she doesn’t.

He clears his throat, preparing to explain himself right off the bat to avoid an awkward confrontation. But he’s rendered momentarily speechless when she flashes a bright smile at him. “Morning, Kishibe.”

He huffs out a short laugh. “Morning.”

She steps towards him, sitting at the opposite end of the couch by his feet. Her shorts ride up and he’s sure he can see the lacey outline of her panties. Or maybe it’s just his perverse imagination, who knows at this point. “How are you feeling?” she asks, genuinely concerned.

He grunts. “Like shit,” he answers. “But it could be worse.”

“That’s the spirit,” she teases, patting his knee.

His head pounds from his hangover, though it’s his heartbeat that thumps loudly against his eardrums, aroused by her touch. He has got to control himself. Doing his best to distract her from the raging boner growing beneath his slacks, he asks, “What happened last night?”

She explains her account of the evening in detail, her voice soft and soothing, cautious of his current headache. She leaves out the parts where he embarrasses himself, which he’s grateful for, not wanting to relive the humiliation. When she’s done, she offers, “If you want, you can take a shower while you wait for your friend to arrive. I can get you some towels. I even have a toothbrush you can use.”

He raises a brow at her. “Are you trying to tell me I stink?”

“Do you need someone to tell you that you stink? I thought it was pretty obvious given the state you’re in,” she quips, matching his expression.

He laughs, genuinely amused by her response. “Yeah, can’t argue with that.”

She leads him into her bathroom, showing him how to work the knob for hot water, pointing out the shampoo, conditioner, and soap kept neatly on a corner shelf of her bathtub. She lingers for a bit while he starts the shower, then hands him a clean towel and new toothbrush. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Surprisingly, he makes it through his shower without succumbing to the temptation to touch himself. As degenerate as he can be, he still has some sense of respect and pride in him, enough to resist masturbating in his neighbor’s shower. He does, however, give her shampoo and conditioner bottles an extra-long sniff.

He dries off, scrubbing his hair with the towel, cleaning behind his ears with cotton swabs, checking his piercings. Towel wrapped around his waist, he brushes his teeth, making sure to go the full two minutes, scrubbing his tongue after. He hasn’t made the best impression so far, so he figures he should try to change that now, if there’s still a chance. Feeling fresh and clean, he stares down at his clothes in a pile on the floor. Even from where he stands, he can smell them, almost like they’ve been diluted in liquor and musk. Without thinking, he steps out of the bathroom, calling out her name. “Got any clothes I could borrow?”

She’s in the kitchen when he comes out, leaning over the stove as she cooks something that smells wonderful. She turns to face him, staring wide-eyed as he stands almost naked in the middle of her living room. Her gaze drifts down his bare body, lingering on his sculpted abs, then at the towel wrapped precariously around his waist. She snaps out of it in time, saying, “I don’t. Sorry.”

“My clothes fucking stink and I don’t want to wear them right now. Mind if I just walk around like this?”

“Sure. I mean, I don’t mind.” She focuses her attention back to the pan, continuing to cook what looks like scrambled eggs.

He knows this is a bizarre request, though this day couldn’t get any more bizarre than it already is, can it?

~~~

You’re not exactly sure how to refuse Kishibe’s request to walk around half naked in your apartment, so instead, you agree to it, claiming that you don’t mind. In actuality, you mind very much, simply because you can’t help but fantasize about the delicious sight beneath the towel. One wrong move like a bump to the hip is all it takes to see that pesky cover fall down. Geez, when did you become such a pervert? And for an old man?!

Desperate for a distraction, you maintain focus on the eggs in front of you. While he was in the shower, you decided to start breakfast, something hearty to combat that hangover of his. Scrambled eggs, toast, and sausage, comforting foods to soak up the remaining alcohol left in his body. He makes his way towards you, scooting a chair out from the table to take a seat. He strategically maneuvers himself to not accidentally expose you, though you really don’t mind if he does. Again, perverted thoughts, shame on you!

Finished cooking, you scoop the eggs out onto his plate and the other meant for you. He thanks you, taking a whiff of his breakfast, a small smile on his face. “Smells good.”

You pass him another glass of liquid, this one filled with an electrolyte drink meant for hydration after a night of drinking. “Drink this. It’ll help with your hangover.”

He eyes it suspiciously, then takes a gulp without questioning it further.

The two of you eat in a comfortable silence, ignoring the obvious tension hanging in the air. From your peripheral, you notice the glint of steel hooked to his ear lobe. Piercings, which you never noticed before. Sexy.

He ends up finishing his entire meal, popping a few painkillers to chase it all down. He even chugs the electrolyte drink, claiming it isn’t so bad. While you take the last few bites of your toast, he excuses himself to brush his teeth again. You’re surprised at how hygienic he is, considering how he appeared before you just mere hours ago, hunched against your front door covered in his own liquor-soaked sweat. You take the plates, stacking them in the sink to wash for later. How much longer is his friend going to take to arrive here? You’re getting nervous, thinking of other ways to fill this gap of time without making your attraction to him so obvious.

You sit on the couch, turning the TV on to a random sitcom with the volume low, listening to the rush of water from the faucet inside the bathroom. When it stops, you try to find a comfortable position to sit in. It’s only now that you realize how short your pajama bottoms are; they ride all the way up your thighs and you can practically see your underwear through them. It’s too late to change when Kishibe returns, still clad in just a towel, taking a seat on the other side of the couch a safe distance beside you. It’s silent for a brief moment, neither of you knowing what to say in this odd situation. You shift nervously, tugging at the hem of your shorts.

“Thank you,” he starts, avoiding your gaze, staring ahead at the television. “For taking care of me. Must have been annoying to deal with a drunken old man.”

You smile, relaxing. “It wasn’t so bad. Besides, I couldn’t just leave you out there like that. Someone could have taken advantage of you.”

“Like you almost did?” he smirks, facing you now.

Laughing, you meet his gaze. “You remember that?”

“I do.” He spreads his legs apart just barely, towel draped dangerously over his knee, almost ready to slip.

You swallow hard, avoiding a glance in that direction, heat surrounding your cheeks. “Well, I was a good girl, remember? I didn’t do anything.”

He hums, nodding slowly, eyes drilling into yours. “You were a very good girl.”

Your breath hitches and you find yourself gravitating towards him, scooting closer. He grins, the scar on his cheek curving with it, voice low and seductive. “You gonna be bad for me now?”

“Only if you want me to,” you purr, sliding your hand beneath the towel, up his thigh, arousal pooling between your legs. Fuck it. He wants it, you want it. There’s no denying it anymore.

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath, pulling you in for a kiss. His mouth is cool and minty against yours, the remnants of toothpaste lingering in his spit. You slurp it up, hungry for any taste of him. He removes the towel from his waist, shrugging it to the floor, leaving him completely naked. You glance at his lap and bite back a moan, amazed at how fucking big he is, way too eager to have him inside you, desperate to be filled to the brim.

“Not bad for an old man, huh?” he chuckles, wrapping his fist around the shaft, stroking it.

“Not bad at all,” you smile, stripping out of your clothes hastily, kneeling between his legs with your mouth open.

He feeds you his cock, humming when you surround him in your wet heat, swallowing him to the hilt. One hand grips the back of your head, guiding you gently up and down his shaft. “You’re filthy, taking your neighbor’s cock like this. Who knew you’d be such a slut?” he mutters, caressing the side of your face with his other hand. “Touch yourself while I fuck this filthy mouth. Get that pretty pussy wet for me.”

You obey, spurred on by his vulgarity, reaching for your arousal, rubbing your throbbing clit with fast fingers. His cock hits the back of your throat and you guzzle him down to resist gagging, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. He moans, bucking his hips slightly, enraptured by you. With his thumb, he brushes away a tear welling at the corner of your eye, pulling out halfway. “Don’t hurt yourself, kiddo. It’s okay if I’m too much for you.”

You release him completely, moving down to his balls, nuzzling your nose to them. “I can take it, don’t worry.”

He clicks his teeth, beckoning you on the couch, almost like you’re being scolded for something you weren’t supposed to do. You roll your eyes, sitting beside him begrudgingly. He leans close to you, hot on your ear, one hand sliding between your legs while the other continues to stroke his dick. “I want to touch you too. That okay?”

You whine in response, tugging him in for a passionate kiss. He massages deep circles around your clit, fingers squelching from your slick gathering along your entrance. “I want a taste,” he growls, splitting apart your thighs, staring at your glistening cunt.

You nod, sinking into the couch, relinquishing all control to him. You let your pleasured moans speak for you as he dives into your pussy, eating you out sloppily. His facial hair grazes against you with each careful stroke of his tongue and you ache to see his chin shiny with your cum. Eventually, he slips inside you, pumping two digits in and out, mouth still working your bud. Soon, it becomes too much and you’re gushing for him, whimpering his name with ragged breaths, soaking his face in your essence.

He chuckles, the vibrations resonating to your clit, causing you to twitch with overstimulation. “That’s my girl, making such a mess for me.”

“Fuck me, Kishibe,” you breathe out, craving to be stuffed full of him. You’re reeling from your high, and if he’s not inside you soon, you’re sure you’ll go insane.

He hoists you up onto his lap, precum oozing from the tip of his dick. “How about you fuck me? Show me how much of a slut you are.”

Too fucked out to argue, you lift up on your knees, position him to your wet hole, sinking down slowly. He slides in easily, pussy sleek from your previous orgasm. It’s better than you imagined, every inch of him stimulating every inch of you. You savor it, rocking against him slowly. He kisses along on your neck, trailing to your nipples to suckle on them. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he moans, thrusting up into you to match your rhythm. “Take this cock however you like. It’s all yours.”

You bounce on him faster, whimpering into his mouth as you kiss him. He palms your ass cheeks, squeezing them in his firm grip, delivering a few loud smacks that echo off the walls of your living room, stinging your skin. “Fuck, I knew you were a good girl. Knew it the moment I met you,” he growls, pressing his thumb to your swollen clit. “Always wanted you like this.”

You kiss him harder at his confession, your chest swelling, pussy fluttering. You’re approaching another climax, teetering on the edge. As if he senses it, he tightens his hold on you, fucking into you faster, deeper. “Come for me, angel. Come on this cock.”

And you do, clenching him with your orgasm, making him mutter, “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming with you.” He shoots his load inside you, filling you up, just like you wanted.

It takes a moment for the two of you to catch your breaths, relaxing into each other’s arms, exchanging soft kisses without speaking. You study his face again, similar to how you did just several hours before, when he was slumped against your door, drunk. You thought he was handsome then, even more so now. “How’s your hangover?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He smiles, nuzzling his nose to yours. “Much better.”

#kishibe #kishibe x reader #kishibe csm #kishibe smut #kishibe chainsaw man #kishibe x you #csm kishibe #chainsaw man smut #csm smut #to all the boys who live next door #anthology series

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poisoned-fruit-prose · 3 months ago

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𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.

synop: you get frustrated when you realize viktor is making more progress than you on hextech.

wc: 1037.

includes: just fluff. reader is a secret mage, and their connection to magic inspired them to start developing hextech. reader and viktor are academic (and romantic) partners. lots of czech pet names. he loves you so much.

author's note: been writing a lot of fics relating to being viktor's "only one" (instead of jayce, though jayvik is still very close to my heart) as if they're memories he's looking back on. maybe this will be some sort of anthology series. hope you enjoy.

Your face scrunched up in the exact way Viktor recognized as your last straw. Before he could speak your name, you were already storming out of the lab, stray papers billowing behind you.

Viktor knew to let you cool off for a moment—the frustration of not understanding was unlike any anger comparable. It was self-deprecating, self-destructing, and the sole reason an institute such as the University was build to assuage. There was no point in consoling you before you were ready. You could read the writing on the wall. Viktor was going into territory you couldn’t follow; he was getting too advanced. You would either have to play catch-up or give up altogether. Both, in your mind, were options only for those who have lost.

Viktor gave you an hour. Well, forty minutes before he decided to get up—it took him twenty to make it to the garden he knew you were stewing in. Your form was predictably balled up beneath the swaying willow tree, the branches engulfed in golden light from the sunset.

He rested his cane against the trunk and grunted as he sat down beside you. He spared you the embarrassment of looking at you; he knew you hated how you looked when you cried. Instead, he looked out over the pond for a long moment.

“You know, I get frustrated too,” he murmured.

“Not over little things like this.” You sniffled. Your tears had long stopped, but you always seemed to have a stuffy nose for the rest of the day. And a godsdamned headache.

“No, admittedly not. But you know what I do get frustrated with?”

You didn’t move, didn’t speak. Viktor shrugged and spoke anyway.

“When you don’t see just how intelligent you are. Just because you cannot understand some of the technicalities of Hextech does not mean you are any less brilliant. You are two things, drahá. You are a scholar, and you are a mage.” He clicked his tongue. “And no matter how far we push Hextech, I cannot begin to fathom what you understand about the Arcane. There is a reason you are my partner on this, and a reason I want you as our guide.”

“Yet if anyone knew I was a mage, I’d be hunted down and killed.”

Viktor sighed. “Maybe not killed—but hunted, yes. That is why I also say you are a scholar. You do not put all your eggs in one basket. You aren’t just a being of magic. You are a perfect storm of words and ideas. You see things others cannot, write things others could only dream to dream of. I cannot let you go around thinking you are stupid when you are the one that conceived Hextech in the first place—the one I go to when I’m stuck and need a fresh perspective.”

“What good am I to the world with words and ideas? Everyone has words—it’s those who can make physical improvements that are the most lauded. You take my words and make with them. How could merely thinking of it compare?”

“That is preposterous, miláčku. Everyone may have words, but it is those who wield them with uncanny ability that give people like us a goal to work towards. Who would I be if you had never explained to me the possibilities of harnessing magic? Likely still following Heimerdinger around, an occasional project here and there—but now I have a hand in changing the world. Your words, your ideas, they are not separate of that. I have the ability to make fire, sure, but you have the ability to use it. You are the foundation of my work. I can only go where you have laid down a path. That is where you lack self-awareness. You are exceptional because your ideas are mixed with your smarts. You dream big, you conceive higher, yet you haven’t thought of anything impossible. Not yet.”

Viktor reached over and gently placed his hand atop your arm.

“And do not think that an award from the Council is the highest honor in life. You have done good for all of Runeterra—but for me especially. If I had the choice, I would shower you with accolades and statues, miláčku. You are an extraordinary thinker, an analytical mind, and a mage immune to the trivialities of academia.” His hand slid up to lift your chin, guiding your gaze back to him. “And you are not that far behind me in invention. Don’t let one problem destroy your vision and hope. You will work through it. You always do.”

You looked at him a long moment, then sighed as you laid your head atop his shoulder. He welcomed you, leaning equal weight against you and holding you still with a hand on your waist.

“...I’m sorry for storming out,” you murmured. “I know that was unprofessional.”

Viktor clicked his tongue. “Oh, please, do you think Jayce is professional?”

You both laughed softly. You sniffled again as you rested a hand atop his knee.

“I think… I’m frustrated, because I want to use magic to help you. And I keep failing. And without the documentation of magic before the Rune Wars, I feel like I’m grasping for a fly in a fog.”

“Don’t worry about me, lásko.”

“You know I can’t do that, Vik.” You nudged him, solemnly playful. “People like you are the reason I started trying to harness the Arcane.”

“Hextech is for everyone.”

“You aren’t included in that?”

Viktor sighed, then leaned up to press a kiss to your hair. “Of course. I just worry you tunnel vision because of me. I don’t want to be the reason you miss a breakthrough.”

“Breakthroughs that don’t lead to you getting better are useless to me.”

“But they are useful for everyone else.”

“Yes, but…” You gently squeezed his leg. Viktor used his free hand to take yours.

“I understand,” he murmured as he watched his fingers lace between yours. “We will both be just fine. Your concern is endearing, but it will cloud you in your studies. Make Hextech your top priority, and my health will be right there with it. And with me, lásko, always comes you.”

dividers used: clouds • scribble

#thank you for reading!#viktor #arcane #viktor arcane #viktor fic #arcane fic #viktor x reader #x reader #fluff

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fozmeadows · 4 months ago

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hi! sorry if you've already answered this, but i absolutely adore your tithenai chronicles, and was wondering if you had any favorite queer books to recommend/suggestions for what a fan of your work should read next :) before inevitably restarting my strange and stubborn endurance audiobook again <3 thank you!

Ahh, thank you so much! Regarding book recommendations, two of my all-time favourites are The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison (along with the spin-off novella trilogy, The Cemeteries of Amalo, which consists of The Witness for the Dead, The Grief of Stones and the forthcoming The Tomb of Dragons), and The Books of the Raksura series by Martha Wells (which consists of seven books total: a trilogy, two short story anthologies, and then a final duology). However, I'd also like to recommend some works by authors that are less well-known than Addison and Wells, so! In no particular order:

The Bone Universe trilogy (Updraft, Cloudbound and Horizon) by Fran Wilde;

The Broken Trust quadrilogy (Mazes of Power, Transgressions of Power, Inheritors of Power and a still forthcoming title) by Juliette Wade;

The Titan's Forest trilogy (Crossroads of Canopy, Echoes of Understorey and Tides of the Titans) by Thoraiya Dyer; and

The Ascendant trilogy (The Tiger's Daughter, The Phoenix Empress and The Warrior Moon) by K. Arsenault Rivera. Happy reading! :D

#books #book recs #queer books #queer SFF #SFF #katherine addison #martha wells #fran wilde #juliette wade #thoraiya dyer #k. arsenault rivera

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harunovella · 1 year ago

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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse vi); s.g.

synopsis: you and gojo share your"first" kiss... and maybe, you become something more? content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, first kisses, absolute softness!!! not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: another one shot for my gojo anthology series! thank u all for the love on this series!! wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!

There was no lie in saying Gojo Satoru had consumed your thoughts. It was quite the recent development, seeing as he was an enigma that sort of manifested into your life. One day, you were living your apprentice life, exploring your technique, honing and developing it... then the next, this myth of a (young) man appeared before your eyes. Like an angel that fell from the sky and right into your palm. You just had no idea that he was wrapped around your finger.

Maybe it was because you were oblivious, unaware of the subtle (but were they really subtle?) messages he sent your way. If you had known Gojo Satoru well enough, you would've known that this was very unlike him. Sparing his time for someone else? Giving them his all? Focusing on them more than himself? Practically going brain dead around them unlike the usual cocky persona he carried around. Surely it scared him, falling deeply for someone just at the simple sight of them... but, for you? You just thought it was the universe working its magic. Bringing someone new into your life to develop a bond with. That was it, right?

Just another somebody to call your friend.

However, Gojo Satoru wasn't just any somebody. He was the honored one, the strongest (he'd eventually learn this). He was the Gojo Satoru. The once in a life time (well, thousand years) creation formed by the gods themselves.

He was the man who fell head over heels for you when he laid his eyes on you for the very first time. Stumbled over his words before you. Unable to process a single thought when he gazed into your eyes. Rescued a cat you found in a tree that you named after his favorite treat (and the nickname he had for you), Mochi. Kissed you at Utahime's birthday party during a game of spin the bottle where both of you were tipsy—a moment he would never forget, but you sadly had. A moment that slipped through the cracks of your brain, a moment that would eventually get replaced by a memorable moment.

It had become routine for you, spending your mornings in lessons with Nanami and Haibara. Then, you'd spend mid day with Shoko, following her like a shadow as her junior. Go on the occasional mission, take down curses, squeeze in snack breaks with your dear classmates, go out in the evening for dinner... and somehow, along your schedule, Gojo would make his appearance. You could never foresee it, he would pop up out of nowhere. If it wasn't teasing Kento, or bugging Shoko for her secret snack stash, he'd show up to your favorite dinner spot you shared with the girls (this almost always irritating Utahime because he ruined girls night). Gojo never cared, at this point he showed up wherever knowing (hoping) you'd be there. Always settling himself next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, sneaking a milk box onto your lap or even sharing his treat of the hour. He never shared his sweets with anyone. You were the exception.

"I got these lil gummies next to that arcade you frequent with Yu," Satoru said as the two of you sat under your (now his, too) favorite tree. The gorgeous cherry blossom in full bloom as spring had made its way around. You almost always had a blanket set, one of your books settled to the side, bookmark slipped into the part you last read. Your iPod nestled between you and Satoru, sharing each earbud as you listened to the current track that came on. Gojo, in his infamous wisdom, was the one who found programs to download music for free, an endless catalogue filling the memory of the rectangular device. Unlike it being yours, it was now his, too. You didn't mind. You liked sharing. You liked having these gentle moments with the overly energetic Gojo Satoru. These were the only moments he sat still, only with you. Just for you.

Always for you.

It was the little things that started adding up. It took you a minute to realize, longer than Satoru had hoped—but he was patient. He was obvious, made it clear that his feelings for you were there, he just hoped you'd piece the puzzle together. He had hoped you'd feel the same. How couldn't you when you looked so happy around him? When you said things reminded you of him. When you bought him little sweets you knew he'd love. When certain songs he loved, you'd learn the lyrics to. Just as you started noticing the (obvious) little things he did for you, he started noticing the same for you. Except, for you, it was coming out naturally. Nothing planned, nothing decided in advance, it just happened. It always just happens and it makes Satoru's heart beat faster and faster. Faster than it did before.

"You like 'em?" He asked, popping another gummy in his mouth as you chewed, nodding happily with the cutest smile of pure content. "I'm glad! Take some more!" He offered, waving the decorative bag of bright colors and little cartoons.

Letting out a small laugh, you took a couple more, waving your free hand, gesturing for him to take the rest as you popped them in your mouth. The fruity flavors filling your senses with pure bliss as you looked off to the open grounds of the school before you. The gentle breeze pushing through, strands of your hair fluttering against your face as they slipped from your ponytail. Gojo leaned against the tree, a knee propped as he rested his wrist against it, holding the baggie while his other tossed more gummies into his mouth. It was quiet. It was peaceful. Nothing but the music in one ear and the soft sounds of nature in the other.

"Oh, I love this song!" You perked up as a song ended and another started, looking at Satoru with a bright grin.

"Didn't I show you this one?" He asked, pushing his round glasses atop his head, smiling with you as you stood up.

"Mhm! I've been listening to it on repeat!" Grabbing the bag of gummies from his hand and settling it down, you took his hands and pulled him to his feet with a faint grunt. Sometimes you'd forget just how giant Satoru was since he loved to make himself seem so small when he was with you. "The music video is so cute! I kinda learned the dance."

"Really?" He chuckled as you guided him.

"Yes, remember you said you learned it after a few watches?" You asked as he nodded. "Let's dance it together!"

"Okay!" The white haired young man blushed, though a wide grin still was plastered on his face. He may have been a goofball, but Satoru did not have two left feet. He actually was quite skilled, and having him sing along with you made your heart flutter as you so casually danced around your shared tree.

It felt as if it was just the two of you, singing, dancing and entangling yourselves with the earphones, laughing and gazing at one another. As if there was nobody else in the world. As if it was just Mother Nature gazing upon two souls intertwining. All in what felt like slow motion, a scene right out of a movie. Your hand in his, his other on your lower back as your free one settled on his shoulder. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his, and neither could he from yours.

Maybe it was a moment of vulnerability—or, rather courage—but your hand gently found its way to the back of his neck, fingers gently carding through his soft locks. The gentle feel of his undercut tickling underneath your palm, sending shivers down either of your spines. The softness in Gojo's eyes faded as you gently tugged him towards you. Growing in shock as your own fluttered closed. Gentle lips meeting in the middle as his plump ones met your lightly tinted own.

His heart was racing, faster than it had that night of Utahime's birthday. Maybe it was because both of you were 100% aware, or maybe it was because it was happening again but away from others, in your own shared comfort zone.

Feeling you pull away, Gojo instantly placed his hands on your hips, engulfing you in his arms as he kept you close. Kissing you, once sweetly turning deep. He didn't want this to end, didn't want it to be forgotten. His lips moved against your own, testing the waters. Nerves fading away, anxieties melting at how right this felt. You were his first, and he was going to make sure you were going to be his only. He didn't want anyone else. No one but you.

And you, after months of being oblivious and unaware, to months of development and realization, wanted him the same. Only him and no one else. Just Gojo Satoru.

Gently pulling back and resting his forehead against yours, a sigh of relief left his lips. "You beat me to it."

"It felt like the right moment," you softly spoke.

"Then I guess this is the right moment..." Gojo trailed.

"For what?" You curiously asked.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose @mandysfanfics @pinksaiyans @peqch-pie @pinksaiyans @silentmajesticfox @r0ckst4rjk @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @stinkysposts @lupitalove (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)

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