#i don’t like it. also it’s almost 7 am I need sleep | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kithtaehyung · 4 months ago

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lollipop (3tan) (m) | myg

title: lollipop (m) | part one: summer bbq pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) | broken (pt. 2) rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after the summer cookout ends, you say goodnight to your brother and his best friend. but the latter just had to have a lollipop in his mouth… and had to make you aware of it hours later. note: this is part two of the three tangerines drabble summer bbq! undisclosed whether these are in the main storyline or not, so it’s a standalone for now. note 2: also..... hope y'all read this in private :))) hahahah warnings: yoongi is the biggest warning, but reader almost inches him out here🤭, no joke we may need to form a new line for reader, kissing, hella kissing, a mirror makes an appearance.. 🫣, tense situations, tender moments, lollipop gets its own warning i’m so serious, cocky yoongi lolll explicit warnings: under the cut! drop date: july 22nd, 2024, 7:17pm est word count: 7.3k💀💀💀

explicit warnings: food play (just roll with it😂), oral sex (m/f rec), masturbation, the struggle to keep quiet is real, mirrors are involved lord have mercy, spanking, breast play, multiple orgasms, yoongi hands, choking, fingering, face f*cking, titty shotsss, a little bit of manhandling and roughness but we love it🤭🤭, aftercare and cute cute reader afterwards

—

It’s not long until you’re snuggled under your covers, every limb in your body relieved to be at rest. From getting ready, cooking for hours, to general host duties—all while trying to avoid sin in human form—you’ve completely exhausted your living battery.

But for some reason, sleepiness is out of reach.

Tiredness? For sure. But sleep seems to elude you, and you toss and turn before giving up and turning your television on.

It’s after you get through two episodes of something random and endless doomscrolling that you get a text.

From the last person that should be texting you right now.

And your heart slams on every brake it has.

Yoongi [2:37am]: You up?

Umm.

What.

Why is he asking you that? It’s quite possibly the worst time and type of message to receive right now.

Don’t overthink it. He probably just needs extra hands to drag your brother back to his room again.

You [2:37am]: mmhmm

You [2:37am]: you need me for something?

With a sigh, you rest your phone by your side.

The last time that happened was so long ago. Back when you were fighting off sickness and absentmindedly grabbing tangerines to snack on.

You wonder what that man wants this time around.

Yoongi [2:37am]: Haha nah

Yoongi [2:37am]: Just curious

Well that’s interesting.

Is he still in the backyard? Somewhere in the house? You knew he was staying over, but is he in the guest room with Jimin lying down like you are?

Why is that making your soul squeeze?

You [2:38am]: yeah i am. can’t sleep :\

After hitting send, you feel more awake than ever, staring at your ceiling changing hues from the light of your tv.

It kinda hurts knowing Yoongi’s the closest he could be tonight.

On one hand, you still remain feeling safer than ever, having all of them here. But on the other, you’d much rather Yoongi be right next to you, heart beating under the same covers and eyes covering you in moonlight.

He’s so close and yet…

So damn far.

Yoongi [2:39am]: Same.

Your arm slings right over your eyes.

How is one word from him enough to make your legs shift? That is something that needs to be studied, but alas, you would only be the subject if someone paid you for it.

What do you say now? You miss him so much it practically hurts? You want him to be lying next to you even though it’s the riskiest thing in the world?

Maybe start slow.

You [2:40am]: did you have fun today?

Shit, was that a little too slow? Abnormal? It’s not like you two have as much small talk as other people. Though you wouldn’t mind any type of talking with him at all, casual small talk just isn’t on the list of defaults.

When you check the next text you get, it’s hard to keep your phone from falling onto your face.

Yoongi [2:42am]: I’ll tell you if you open the door :)

Huh.

So much for starting slow what the fuck!

You [2:43am]: ???

You [2:43am]: front door?

Yoongi [2:43am]: Yours

There have been many times in which this man has made you speechless. Some just for being so heartstoppingly handsome; others for being the most considerate person you’ve ever met.

But this time?

You can’t even form all the reasons why you can’t form words.

You [2:44am]: ?????

Yoongi [2:44am]: 🤨

Yoongi [2:44am]: Feel like this is pretty easy stuff, doll

What is happening? What possessed your brother’s legitimate ride or die to stand at your door while still in the same house? When other people are also staying over?

You’re so close. He’s right there. You can see a slight shadow underneath the wooden frame and it’s making your stomach silly.

But you have to be sure.

You [2:45am]: is he asleep?

Yoongi [2:45am]: Yeah he’s out

Getting up, you already miss the warmth of your sheets as you tiptoe towards the only thing separating you from the man you’ve yearned for all day long.

Fuck. If this isn’t the worst decision you’re ever gonna make in your life.

But damn it, you already knew you were gonna let him in as soon as he asked.

After checking what you’re wearing before knowing it doesn’t matter, you open your door while fearing what it reveals.

And Yoongi slowly enters through the night—freshly showered, still studded with jewelry, and decked in clean clothes while dirtying your mind to hell.

Because of the goddamn lollipop in his mouth.

“What’s going on,” you whisper, knowing your brother could wake up at any second. Maybe. Possibly. Everything bad is always possible when you’re paranoid about it—especially since Yoongi is in your room! “What are you doing?”

Your secret wastes no time as he quietly shuts and locks the door, hair shifting down his head in damp waves as he takes out the sucker,

“This.”

Silent, he pulls you in slow for a kiss, melting you down with ease. When he presses you into one of your walls, you know the only thing propping you up is his pelvis molding with your front.

Already, your senses are on high alert, wondering how long Yoongi plans on staying because as much as you want him here forever, you still want him in one piece.

But it’s getting hard to concentrate on consequences and scenarios when this man is infiltrating your every thought. His lips feel like summer and his fragrance reminds you of spring, and you immediately know it’s that subtly scented body wash you picked to put in the guest bathroom.

Strange. You both have now used each others’ soap and showers. That has to mean something intimate, right? How many people can say that about one another and not look into it too much?

Well, he technically hasn’t used the shower in your bathr—

“You looked great today,” Yoongi whispers into your neck.

His kiss there renders you speechless for what seems like eons. Today. Uh huh. What were you thinking just now? “Thank you,” you finally sigh, relishing in the way he’s holding your side. “So did you.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean.. You always do, so. Nothing new there.”

Yoongi quietly huffs a laugh before tugging your hips. But he doesn’t say anything in return, and you wonder if he didn’t have an answer or just didn’t feel the need to.

So your nerves fill the space again. “Is it weird that I missed you? You were here the whole time.”

“Mm.” His kisses traverse up your shivering throat, and his raspy answer has your eyes fluttering shut, “I get that.”

Fuck, you can’t deal with him. “Is.. Is that so..”

“People miss me all the time.”

A snort. “Ass.”

Yoongi immediately laughs into your skin. “But they aren’t here now, are they?” When you don’t respond with anything substantial, he squeezes the side of your ass. “Are they.”

“No,” you hitch out. “But you shouldn’t be here, either.”

“Tell me to leave then.”

Shit. You can’t. You both know you can’t. You try so hard to stifle a moan when you feel Yoongi grip an asscheek, his lips finding your ear at the same time he gives a firm smack.

“Do it, doll.”

“I…” Fuck, he’s surrounding you and there’s no way no way out. “I can’t.”

“Good.” Yoongi then slides your hand from his side down to his legs, placing it on his very big, very hard length. “Cus I can’t fucking stay away from you.”

You grip him through his pants, pleased when he moans deep. “What if he wakes up?”

“He won’t,” your handsome rebel purrs. “Drank for hours.”

“You sure?”

“Course I am.” Yoongi slides a finger along the outline of your breasts. “He tried to keep up and lost.”

“Typical.”

He keeps doing exactly what you want him to do. It’s quite scary how well he knows your body now, but you’d also like to think you have a good level of knowledge with his.

Especially when you reach up to twist his nipple.

A groan mixed with dark chuckles has your knees shaking, and you prolong it by doing something else you know—or think you know—he likes,

“I think you’d like it if I kicked you out now.”

The volcano inside Yoongi rumbles. “Is that so?”

“It is,” you huff out in mock triumph, loving how his cock twitches against your hand. “Or am I wrong?”

He flicks his eyes to yours before holding a gaze. A look so telling, and full, and searing. When his mouth flicks upward, he admits,

“I’d love it.”

Laughing as softly as you can, you stop to simply hug him. Leaning forward until your head rests, feeling the most at home and happy hearing his own amusement vibrating through his clothes.

And just like that, you’re conflicted.

What the hell are you doing? Even though passed out and sloshed, your brother could still wake up. It’s not like he’s totally gone. And if he catches his best friend in your room? There’s no telling what damage could be dealt.

Actually, the damage could be told in gruesome detail.

But the way Yoongi’s filling the distance from today, you really don’t want to stop. In fact, you don’t even want to pretend to shoo him off.

So this is your first step onto a precarious, unpredictable tightrope. A step you are very okay taking.

“Babe?”

Shit, you got lost again. When you find your way back, Yoongi’s concern materializes at once,

“If you really aren’t down—”

“Fuck it.”

Your kiss digs into his face so hard you strike gold, rewarded with a growl so potent it disrupts your core. Lightning zaps through your veins at the hands squeezing your hips, and you buck with a desperation that’s been stockpiling all day long.

Sliding along the wall, you notice that Yoongi tastes like alcohol and sugar, and you wanna lick every crevice you can reach, drunk off his cockiness and audacity alone.

It’s no use fighting this. He’s really in your room, making out with you like a demon while the house is filled with your brother’s sleeping friends.

Fuck, you two could really get caught here.

The swirl in your belly keeps you on your toes, transforming your movements into sharp, hasty tugs on his clothes, hemlines, hair. You’re practically acting like you’ve never had him before and want to make up for all those missed opportunities.

Not like it’s any different every time.

But you’re quelled by a calm hand on your wrist. “As much as I like you like this,” Yoongi whispers across your cheek, “You can’t be too loud, baby girl.”

Your silent question must’ve escaped past your teeth. Because you hear a deep chuckle before shivers run down your spine,

“If you aren’t quiet enough I’m gonna fix that.”

Oh. Fuck.

“I didn’t even know I was talking,” you admit, body creasing in embarrassment and a bit of nervous laughs. Your grin cannot be contained by the fingers you slide up to cover it. “Oh, my god.”

“What?” Yoongi’s devilish look is even more potent in the flashing lights of your television. “You serious?”

When you scrunch in deeper admittance, he flashes teeth with a wider smile than yours. It’s a prelude to the way he launches your heartbeat, his scent mesmerizing and his fingers lethal on the back of your neck.

“Adorable.”

You groan into his swooping kiss, the rush of a thousand rivers carrying you to bliss. Breaths intertwined, the pair of you can’t seem to part until Yoongi accidentally shoulders something at his side.

Your mirror? When did you both travel so far that you got here?

He lets off with a pop to steady the wavering furniture piece, pausing to make sure it’s stable before looking at the movie playing nearby.

And you watch in curiosity as he backs further into your room, eyeing himself in the mirror while slotting the sucker back into his mouth.

God. How did you forget he was still holding that?

And why can’t you move even as he turns around, even as he glances at the tv, even as he sits on the edge of your bed?

Move. Walk. Do something!

In the end, you can’t.

Because Yoongi’s stare alone gives you first time jitters, like you’ve never even conversed or much less slept with him before.

How the fuck are you gonna get through the night?

Swallowing and shooting one more look at your door, you pad your way to him, knowing he sees your nipples poking through your shirt and assuming there’s not much else you’re wearing.

And he’s right.

As you stop at Yoongi’s knees, you watch as he gives the lollipop another slow suck, groaning at the red smeared across his tainted lips.

That’s it. It’s decided. There’s no way you’re making it out alive.

“Get up here.”

Obliging but unhurried, you mount his lap, your heart skipping at the way he enjoys your shirt riding up your thighs.

So that damn sucker is gonna stay in his mouth?

Min Yoongi is your enemy tonight.

Your nemesis, in fact. Even if he slides both free hands up your ass like that fuck he squeezes so expertly. Fuck.

It’s keeping everything in you to hide your moan, your head falling forward as he slightly lifts you to drop you onto his comfy sweats.

When he chuckles in your ear, your muscles lock. And when he pops the lolly out of his mouth, you crumble at his mercy. “You were lucky to be off-limits today, doll.”

“What…” You tense at another grip to your ass. “What do you mean.”

As you eye the silver around his neck, Yoongi’s smirk pours weight on your legs. “If you weren’t? There’s no telling what I would’ve done.”

You don’t think you’ve ever gulped so deeply. What toe-curling secrets is he hiding? Today could have gone a much, much different route depending on what he’d spill. “Tell… Tell me anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

The man below you huffs quick, and you watch the corner of his mouth lift at a dangerous angle. “Would’ve kept you in that bathroom,” he divulges, voice dragging across the rattled surface of your brain. “Bent you over the sink.”

Your breath hitches when he gets close, lips caressing your ear but words striking through your chest, “Just so you could watch me fuck you in that sundress.”

“Fuck.”

“Uh uh,” Yoongi coos, chuckle so, so deep. “Quiet, baby girl.”

“I just…” It’s already hard to think around this demon of a person. But it’s even more difficult when he’s got your ear in his teeth. “Wait.”

As he pulls away, the light of your television highlights his features. And you find that this specific, comforting look of attentiveness is what attracts you the most.

Now that you can think clearly, you remember exactly what you were gonna do. It’s simple but significant nonetheless.

Because your dress from today is in the laundry already. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have another one. Another very particular one he may remember, in fact.

“Go over there,” you whisper, smile wide as you dismount. “Turn around.”

When he wordlessly asks what you’re up to, a single finger presses against your lips before you assure, “Just trust me.”

The way his brows scrunch makes your cheeks hurt as you watch him get up and swivel, endeared by the casual lean on your wall and the lollipop stuck in his cheek. Just as his head falls in waiting, you slip into your closet, darkness getting even darker as you enter.

Due to an afterthought, you pop your head out. “No peeking in the mirror.”

“Uh huh.”

Satisfied, you go back to your lightless search.

You know exactly what you’re going for. It’s too easy for you to locate your chosen piece of clothing before stripping and changing as orderly as you can.

Okay. This is okay because you’re alone, right? No one else is here. Technically. Okay.

As you make your way out, a million nerves pop and fizzle under moonlight. The air surrounding your bare shoulders proves charged. Electric enough to send shivers down to your pedicured toes.

Composing yourself before you break, you softly catch his attention as you eye the sucker poised in his fingers,

“Ready.”

The moon waits.

Your breath follows.

And when Yoongi turns, you know you’ll never forget this moment. It feels exactly like the time in that restaurant long ago, but more potent. Shimmering.

Because you’re wearing the same sundress he witnessed you in on the night of Dom’s party.

And you’ve never been so delighted to see the stars in his eyes go dark.

You expect him to call you over. Whether with words or not, you’re gonna do whatever he wants—because it’s what you want… too…

Yoongi’s aura billows as he closes the distance himself. No words. No gestures. Just step by breath-taking step, air around him so charged and commanding that your knees threaten to buckle.

For reasons you won’t admit, your mouth can’t even create sounds. All you want to ask is if he likes the dress, or if he even cares you aren’t as dressed up as before.

Of course he wouldn’t give a single shit. But you can’t stop yourself from these thoughts just yet.

Swallowing, you stare as he rolls the sucker in his mouth, eyes in no other direction but yours. “You, umm. Does this one work instead? The other one is in the—”

Quick isn’t fast enough to describe what’s happening, your shoulders pressing into the nearest wall as your lips get consumed by lust and possession. Everything in your body tingles, and for a split second you wonder how Yoongi managed to swing you around so swift with barely a sound.

Stars fly from your eyes before they slip shut, pouring want onto his veins as he circles strong arms across your waist. Sparks erupt the scant distance between your hips and his, and you are once again reminded why you feel so high-strung.

There are so many people staying over. Not just Yoongi and Jimin. From what you can recall, at least ten people are passed out around the house, any of which could wake up for a bathroom break or something at any second.

And yet. You will not tell this man to leave. Truthfully, this is exhilarating and all you’re doing is ki—

“Get down there.”

Oh, fuck.

This is the new point of no return.

If you do this, not only will Yoongi be a goner, but so will you. Both of you would never, ever come back from this.

But that fucking lollipop…

Screw everything to hell.

Your smile grows with his, lip bitten in the throes of your newfound excitement. You already feel how rock solid he is through his pants, and you make it a point to stroke him on the way to the ground.

There’s so little room that your ass skims the wall, your chest the second part to slide along his covered length and causing him to groan out a curse.

Is there a shift here? Did you change the whole dynamic with one move? Maybe you’re the one with the power now.

“Look at me.”

Ah. Maybe not.

Obedient, you stare upward, catching the fire in Yoongi’s eyes as he gives the sucker one more pass in his mouth.

God, he makes it look so enticing. It’s just a piece of candy but you’ve never been this desperate to have one, too. Or be the one treated with his tongue like that goddamn does he have to make it seem so erotic?

With a pop, Yoongi releases the stick, lips shiny and tainted in the television lights. When he lowers it, you realize it’s descending—farther and farther—until it stops in front of your face.

And shivers overtake you.

“Suck.”

Well. You’ve never done something like this before. In all the relationships you’ve been in, you have never experienced anything like this. Much less in your own house.

Which makes your eyes flare and the monster in your belly rumble, fire hissing from its nose and prying your mouth open to do exactly what you were told.

“That’s my girl.”

Sugar coats your tongue immediately. Glowing, the heat in your core stokes embers, warning with each loll, each cave of your cheeks. You treat the candy so tenderly Yoongi will deny jealousy, and your lips pucker and puff with a sheen.

Are you glistening as much as his eyes? Are you causing him as much grief as he has put you through?

You damn well hope so. Yoongi isn’t the only one that’s gonna unleash his needs from the whole day.

So you keep sucking with closed eyes, swirling your tongue around the lolly and licking it just how you would his tip. It tastes like sweet rebellion, but also late nights with your friends. And with a fleeting thought, you know said friends would grill you if they ever found out this was happening.

Maybe Tae would just laugh his ass off.

Fuck, this is so unbelievably risky. Your door is locked, sure. But the guest room is still very much missing an occupant and one look in there and at Yoongi’s car in the street would cause an eruption.

Through the haze of your thoughts, you hear shuffling and a low droning grunt.

With one glance, you know Yoongi is crumbling. The shadowed promises under his bangs make you preen, and you remain on the precipice of anxiousness and glee.

“Keep that tongue out for me.”

Clearly, he doesn’t give a shit about risk.

So gladly, you oblige, flinching when the lollipop is replaced by something you’re much more familiar with, and your eyes bat on instinct as you know exactly what to do with this one.

When did he shove his pants down? Were you that lost in your sticky treat that you didn’t even notice?

Doesn’t matter. You feel his beautiful weight on your stained tongue and it’s second nature to pleasure. When you grab hold of his base, you give one more suck before popping him out of your mouth to lick down.

For someone that’s been shushing you, Yoongi’s groan is not quiet, and you pause just in time to see him grit his teeth with a nose scrunched to hell.

And his attention is sideways. What is he…

Oh. Fuck.

You can see yourself in your mirror on the other wall.

Is that… you? The one looking back with a visage so arousing your breath stops? If this is the person that Yoongi brings out you actually feel your confidence inflate like a parade balloon.

“So fucking hot.”

When you laugh in shyness, his eyes slide shut in agony as he rakes through his hair. Crumbling inside, you offer a compliment of your own,

“You’re so unfair when you do that.”

Yoongi has the audacity to grin wide as he grips his long strands. “This?”

“Ugh. Whatever.” You wanna smack that smirk right off his face.

So you keep going, loving the way his walls and defenses are back to shattering at your knees. From your inappropriate level of experience with his cock, you go for what you know. Licking his underside, swirling around the tip, sucking just the first bit, gathering spit all over before taking him in deep.

The smells around you coalesce into something potent. With the fruitiness of the lolly and the headiness of Yoongi, it’s pure bliss in your nostrils and you soak it all in. There’s no pause in your sucking, licking, tugging him rough. You’re giving it your all and feeling the effects between your legs.

Suddenly.

Huffs litter around your sundress as Yoongi yanks himself out, sticking the sucker in your mouth again while holding your head. And his smile puts devils to shame when he scoffs, “Unfair, my ass.”

You giggle, sliding the pop up and down your outstretched tongue before slowly pushing it in. When you watch one of his veiny hands grip his cock, your brain resets and rewires, prompting you to be a little bit more daring.

As if this whole situation wasn’t daring enough.

You coyly slide one of your sundress straps down your arm, slowly revealing the top of a breast before going for the other side. Not enough to show everything. But enough to give him a much better view from above.

And the sound you hear in response causes pulses between your legs,

“What the fuck.”

Satisfied, you ride this high of praise and keep diligently sucking on the lolly, watching him pump himself until you can’t can’t can’t take it anymore.

It all happens in quick succession, your hand outright slapping the lollipop out of his hand before grabbing for him, shaky fingers knocking into his slick ones before slipping his dick in your mouth.

“Shit—”

His scent captures your nostrils as he bucks forward, knocking your throat and causing your gag to hit the wall. When you keep sucking, Yoongi grabs your chin, chains swaying as he rocks in, out, in, out again.

Drool and spit cover your neck, seeping onto his fingers as he keeps them where he wants. Imagining how you look in the mirror makes you moan, and imagining Yoongi watching everything from his view makes your cunt leak onto your thighs.

Fuck you wanna watch, too. What does that say about you? You’re legitimately jealous that you can’t see yourself taking Yoongi so deep he’s cursing in strings.

When you choke, it’s disgustingly loud, so he has to pull out once again just to command, “Quiet.”

“Ye—”

He’s shoved back in before you can finish one syllable, back out after a single suck before he drives his point home, “Understand?”

“Y—”

Your words are pushed down your throat again, the intensity Yoongi’s exuding rolling your eyes back and shaking your muscles. Spent and unable to speak, you nod around him, and your arms are suddenly gathered against the wall until you’re fully flushed, held up by one of his strong hands.

“Good girl.”

You brace yourself for his complete control, dick sliding down your throat and pushing tears out of your eyes. Breathing through your nose, you keep your tongue flat, taking him in until your full body gag alerts him to pull out.

As soon as he does, you buckle straight towards the mirror, eyes bursting with shock as you drink in the man watching your heaving, shimmering chest.

“This is what you do to me, doll.” When you shift your attention upward, you gulp at his smile of pride. “Can you stand?”

“I…” Holy shit, he fucked the voice right out of you. “I think so.”

“Here.”

You place your hand in his, muscles in your legs stinging at the change in position. When you go slow, Yoongi lets you, and your lips curve tenderly at the way he kisses you at your peak.

“You almost made me come,” he whispers, chuckling when you watch his eyes. “Fuckin’ hustler.”

“You didn’t want to?”

“Not yet.” Winking, Yoongi gives you another peck before getting close.

As you look in the mirror, you catch the way he kisses along your neck, his hair tickling your skin and his arms bent as he holds yours. It’s almost enough to make you feel higher than royalty, now knowing what it looks like to be feasted on by a king.

“Promise me something,” he rasps.

“Anything,” you whisper in confidence.

“It’s your turn now.” Another kiss to your ear makes you flinch. “But if you’re too loud that’s all you get.”

Bold statement coming from the guy that couldn’t stay silent. But you’re far too gone to dwell on the past so all you can do is nod in understanding. You need this. After today? You really fucking need this.

Yoongi tucks himself back in his sweats before kissing your neck again, lips leaving a trail along the tracks left by your own actions. When he gets to your chest, he gets to unwrap another treat, slowly peeling your dress down to suck on a nipple.

You almost cut the whole thing short.

A hand flies up over your mouth, and you watch your face twist in anguish in the glass. Sparks tingle from where Yoongi slides his tongue, and seeing this man in action from another viewpoint launches you across the edge instead of right to it.

You’re gonna get yourself caught. There’s no way you aren’t crying out by the time he’s done but goddamn you’ve got to keep it toge—

Deft fingers rub your other nipple, causing your body to jump forward and Yoongi to chuckle into your chest. After he squeezes, you watch as he pops off your tit. “What’d I say.”

This is the hardest thing you’ve ever done!

You can only shake your head, hand still preventing your mouth to move and your throat stinging from suppressed screams.

“That’s what I thought,” Yoongi quips before kissing the rest of your dress downward.

And the fucker didn’t even look back at the mirror. Like he already knows exactly what he looks like or doesn’t care in the slightest. All he’s focused on is you and you alone, and you’re so enamoured that you watch his head below you, too.

Calmly and surely, Yoongi lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing along your skin and gripping you tight. When he lifts a brow upward, you nod downward, bracing yourself for him to notice something else you had planned to show.

Works like a sinful charm. His reaction could be felt better than seen.

Because as soon as he notices that you don’t have any underwear on, Yoongi pours out dark amusement before giving your cunt the deepest kiss it’s ever felt.

A mewl smushes into your fingers as you cave, eyes shutting so tight as he eats you out like a man starved and never satiated.

His licks hit just right, and the way he tongues you causes stars to pierce your eyes through. Over and over and over, Yoongi is merciless in how he pleasures, and your esophagus burns and burns and burns.

Both your legs quake as he slips a finger under his tongue, and your eyes fly open just in time to see yourselves in the mirror again.

Holy fuck.

You’ve always known this man was attractive. Overwhelmingly so, in fact. But seeing him on his knees and knowing it’s not a dream makes you so dizzy your brain can’t keep up.

Yoongi’s hands flex on your skin with each minuscule grip, and his hair bunches as he moves between your legs. Your thigh covers his face, but maybe that’s for the best, because you don’t think you could handle watching his tongue while feeling it inside.

“So fucking wet,” he hisses out before diving in again, and you use your other hand to grapple a chunk of his drying hair. “Fuck.”

Yes, keep going. He’s so close to making you come you squeeze even harder. By now, your whole upper body is burning with unreleased yells and your lower body is suffering just as much. He’s too good. Way too good for a quiet house.

You can’t hold it in. You can’t you can’t you can’t.

“Yoongi, please”—your legs start to twinge with want and pending release—“Gonna come, I—”

Everything snaps as soon as he reaches to grope your ass, tugging you forward to lick a spot that has you vibrating like mad.

And your orgasm is so potent that your knees legitimately buckle, your body slipping with no purchase before you catch yourself on the wall. Waves hit you from all directions and you let out one yelp before you feel a moist hand clamp over your lips.

Oh, he’s standing now. Oh, he’s fingering you. Oh fuck, he’s talking you through your orgasm and you can’t understand him but your body reacts either way.

“—another one for me.”

Your pulses wreck your body into angles, each one shifting into another as your mouth is still covered. Yoongi’s fingers prove fatal as he leads you into a second paradise, and you cry into his hand as you come into his other—harder, stronger.

“Just like that, doll, fuck.”

Tears stream down your cheeks again as you lift, soaring into the summer skies and leaping over sleeping souls. It’s too much to keep inside. Too powerful to not let out all at once.

“—this fucking dress.”

You don’t know what’s being said. Nor do you care. Your body is so spent from the vicious tempest and all the energy leaves you at once.

“Uh uh.”

What.

“One more for me,” Yoongi goads. “And you’re gonna watch this time.”

Your chest beats and beats as his fingers pump slow, and your head lolls to the side as you catch sight of your salacious act in the mirror.

Immediately, you know exactly why he said that. Watching the way his arms bulge with effort is encouragement enough to stay upright. With each thrust, you can see your dress hitching with your arches, and Yoongi dives into your neck to strike lightning.

“Baby—” You feel it. You feel a third wave incoming and its crest seems higher than the rest.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his dark bangs peeking from behind your neck in the mirror and his throat stretching out. “And don’t fucking scream.”

Fuck! Your hand grips your mouth so bad it will leave soreness. But water pulls you under and twists you like a ragdoll. Unlike the other times, this orgasm quivers your legs to the point where Yoongi teases. And he can’t stop praising you for being naughty, for letting him in here, for letting him destroy you while everyone’s here.

“I love it,” you whoosh out into his throat, voice cracked and chipped. “Fuck, I love it.”

“I know you do.” Another deep set of laughs. “You’re a problem.”

Head lolling forward, you slowly slip right into Yoongi’s arms before he helps you stand. “Come on,” he leads, walking you a short distance to your bed before chuckling at your cartoonish collapse.

Some moments pass. One, two, four or five more. Even the room seems to swim a little in your vision when you struggle to open your eyes.

Finally, after breathing hard, you can only manage a gravelly, “Holy shit.”

Yoongi laughs soft before wiping your forehead. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhale, chest heaving and heaving. “I’ll be good.”

Fingers still wisping across your face, he praises, “So beautiful.”

You finally calm your pulse before you slide your hand over his cock. “Did you come?”

“Nah.”

Looks like you aren’t done. “Mm,” you whisper, trying your best to prop yourself up. “Lie down for me.”

“You sure?”

You nod with heavy eyes, and he slowly occupies your bed while you caress him again. So smooth and so tender before squeezing just right.

It’s already almost enough because Yoongi throws his head onto your pillow. “Goddamn.”

When you slip his sweats down, you use willpower alone to consume him again. You will not rest until he’s fully content, too. With this in mind, your cheeks and jaw work overtime.

You want this, want this, want this. He gave you the world and then some, you can run on fumes to make him a mess. After all, you’re drunk off the pleasurable cocktail he just concocted with his tongue. This will carry you despite your functioning levels in the trenches.

“Babe—”

For a split second, you forget where you are. Your eyelids droop so low and your body twinges with aftershocks as you spit right onto his cock, sliding your lips along his pretty length before you feel him tug your sheets.

“Shit.”

He’s close. He doesn’t even have to tell you. You can tell by the way his body reacts and bends and folds, and you quickly decide what that means for you.

Because you could swallow.

But you instead make your way to the floor, commanding him before realizing just how authoritative and raspy you sound,

“Sit up.”

Right as he does, you pump him right above your exposed chest, shocking him so abruptly his low groan shakes your core,

“Oh, fuck—”

Hot, thick spurts land all over you, his release your only focus and not the pain in your knees from hitting the floor in round two. As his head rolls back, you watch with heightened pride, loving the way he looks lost in delicious, honeyed ecstasy.

And just like that, both of you are satisfied. Both of you got what you needed and wanted from this… hot summer… day…

There was a sound outside your door, further down the hall but fucking close enough.

And holy shit his cum is on your tits.

Holy shit holy shit this is the absolute last thing you should’ve let him do what the fuck what the fuck!

If anyone sees you like this you are both finished. Cooked. Banished.

You glance at the door, body locking and hands massive weights at your side.

One second.

Two seconds.

You’re fully awake now.

Four seconds.

Nothing else happens. Your ears strain wildly but you don’t hear any noises in succession, and you wonder if it was just a snore or something similar.

Sighing, you breathe out relief before peering straight up.

And the look you get in return is pure, primal hunger.

Yoongi’s never looked like this. Maybe he’s come close that one time before, but this is much different.

What is this? His pupils are magnified and his lids are lowered in fire, stoking the heat within you and clutching your cunt with his eyes alone. You’re so wet that you can come again if he so much as touched you. “Baby?”

Yoongi simply grazes your cheek with his knuckles. “Just want this in my phone so fucking bad.”

Oh. Well, fuck.

You blink at his shamelessness. But it makes you so exhilarated and shy that you resort to your default—cracking jokes. Of all the things he could’ve mentioned like the sound outside or possibly getting caught and dragged to hell he decides he wants your pictures in his phone. Right.

“Happy you painted me like Picasso?” You laugh before you can even finish, but so does Yoongi as he throws his head back.

Immediately, the atmosphere calms. “You heard that earlier?”

“He’s an idiot.”

“He is.” Yoongi helps you up and onto your bed before he asks, “Towels in your bathroom?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Under the sink.”

You watch as he goes to fetch them, heart pulsing extra hard at his consideration. When he bustles around in a room you use everyday, it’s surreal to witness. Both unnatural, but so natural at the same time.

He’s careful not to make loud sounds, gently closing your cabinets and coming back with a cloth he ran under water.

A sudden pang hits your chest and you have no clue why.

Is it because you’ll never see him in there again? Or is it because of the conversation you just brought up?

Maybe both. The convo from earlier today still rings in your ears, everyone hounding Yoongi about the scratches you left on his back. They were old but still very visible. You need to be more mindful of what you can and can’t do right now.

As Yoongi wipes your shivering chest, you ask something that’s been weighing on your mind, “Did I get you in even more trouble?”

He just looks at you before finishing his cooling task, raising straps back onto your shoulders. “Course you did.”

Ah. He didn’t seem bothered, but your apology follows him as he goes to pick up the abandoned candy from earlier. “Sorry. I didn’t think about it at the time.”

“S’ok. Hope you’re fine being some chick from outta town, though.”

Your chuckle hurts your throat on the way out. Not from disappointment, but from the very man you’re talking to. “I can deal with that. Is she nasty?”

It takes a bit for him to discard everything. When he comes back, he bends down to answer,

“So fuckin’ nasty.”

You giggle right into his kiss. Fully spent, your arms around his neck pull him in close, and his rough laugh makes your legs even weaker. “Can’t believe we just did all that.”

“Same.”

“Guess you like the dress, huh?”

A hand comes up to squeeze your thigh. “Dunno. Might have to see it again when the sun’s out.”

“Ass.”

“You get it.”

“Wow.”

Yoongi hisses amusement, shifting to lay beside you across your bed. When he does, light from the window hits him just right, and you fall silent at once.

So perfect. So unfair.

“I think this is my favorite,” you admit, not giving him full context. So when he wordlessly asks for it, you reach up and caress his cheek. “When you look happy.”

“I am,” he says after a pause. “Cus of you.”

You feel starlight in your own eyes. “I’m happy, too.”

For this, Yoongi doesn’t need to ask for more context at all.

The lingering fear of being caught is still there, but it’s not as present now. Maybe it’s because you’re both content again, but you don’t feel too stressed.

Did you want to get caught that whole time? Surely not when things were going down.

But what about now? If someone saw you lost in each others’ stars, would you care if they plucked you from the sky?

Staring into this man’s eyes, you can’t bring yourself to say you would.

“When will I see you again?” you blurt out of nowhere.

At this, Yoongi props his head up with an elbow. “When do you want to?”

“Tomorrow.”

His chest bobs with his laugh. “I’ll make sure to see you before I head out then.”

You nod, eyes shutting when Yoongi goes in for another kiss.

Another kiss is how you frame it. Because a final kiss is too painful to think about.

Yoongi has to leave. You know he literally cannot stay.

But facts and logic don’t make this parting any easier, and your heart breaks when he slips out of your bed.

It’s too soon. Yes, it’s also way past the time he should be in your room, but it’s too fucking soon.

Your chest burns. Sears make fiery ridges along your ribs until they overtake your heart, creeping closer and closer.

Until Yoongi bends to kiss you again, fingers slotting into yours and squeezing some liquid out of your eyes.

But his rasp gives you pause, “I did, by the way.”

Blinking, you feel him swipe at oncoming tears when you ask, “You did what?”

“Have fun.”

Oh. Wait, he’s answering the text you sent? You already forgot about that. Ages ago. “Good,” you say with a slight ghost of a smile. “It looked like you were having a good time. And I.. Really liked seeing you laugh.”

Yoongi just stares, thoughts and emotions skimming across his eyes. When you reach up to cradle his cheek, they then slip shut, brows dipping as he presses into you further. “You were the reason,” he admits with no hesitation.

Don’t cry more. Not now.

He gives you one more hug, and you cradle his head into your skin. “Good night, baby,” you whisper so softly, planting a kiss on his cheek.

When he does the same to yours, you wonder if his reaction was also reminiscent of tiny sparklers on a summer night.

“Night, doll.”

The steps he takes all stomp on your heart.

But you find solace in the hopeful future. One where you can stand next to him at summer barbecues, or host them with him, or just simply be anywhere with him.

But mostly, you’re yearning for a future where you don’t have to keep watching him leave through a door.

But come back through one.

fin. :)

🍭so... how did it go!🍭 | join the server! | join the taglist!

a/n: thank you to everyone that has stuck around while i took my huge rest! it was a little strange to not be here everyday talking to you all, but looking back, the resting and step back was needed. although it looks like some people left - whether the blog or in general - i am happy to see so many familiar and new people! let's keep having fun with the 3tanverse and beyond, yeah? a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! i'll be here to talk and scream with y'all whenever, and it should be more frequent now. also be on the lookout for some physical copy interest checks! we are getting closer to 3tan copies being A Real Thing! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

#LETS GET ITTT #we are back baby!#bts fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #*ryenfictalk #ryenwrites #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts smut #*latest #3tanL #bts fanfic

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daybrightsims · 9 months ago

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Alright, they've lived in my brain too long; Time to air out my thoughts about the polyamory in BG3

To give a little context: I am currently ethically non-monogamous with my primary partner of almost 7 years. I am not a monolith of thought when it comes to polyamory/ENM/open relationships. These are my own personal thoughts and feelings. I've also completed the game with Astarion and Halsin romanced. Spoilers ahead, read at your own risk.

TL;DR - I don't share the current opinion of whether or not Astarion is okay with Tav pursuing Halsin and the discourse around his agency and choices in the relationship are bumming me out and frustrating me.

I am getting increasingly frustrated about the conversation about Astarion being polyamorous/okay with Tav being with Halsin in the game, primarily because I think a lot of the "think pieces" are coming from 1) monogamous people who have only ever been monogamous, 2) monogamous people who have been burned/cheated on/forced into polyamory by a partner (I feel for ya'll, that wasn't okay), 3) people who are very VERY protective of Astarion, and 4) people who are blatantly uncomfortable with polyamory. My goal is not to invalidate anyone's experiences, but to share an alternate perspective.

I do think that Astarion is not only okay, but happy with Tav dating Halsin. I glean this from how he responds to being poly with ANY OTHER companion. If you ask him to share with literally anyone else, he will say no and give his reason.

Gale: He doesn’t want to be in a love triangle (which with Gale, it would be).

Lae’zel: He’s uncomfortable and Lae’zel would kill him (also true).

Wyll: He knows Wyll is old fashioned and monogamous.

Karlach: He knows Karlach’s feelings for you are strong and he doesn’t want to stand in the way of that (he even says he’d be cool with an arrangement but knows Karlach will need all of your affection based on what she’s been through).

Shadowheart: He would be cool IF Shadowheart had more experience and ya’ll were together longer. But he knows Shadowheart is fragile in her current state.

Minthara: He REALLY doesn’t like this idea and will dump you immediately.

I did also see that ***SPOILER*** they updated or are updating some of the spawn Astarion language to have issues with your affair with Mizora should you pursue it, and it requires a persuasion/deception role to keep you two together.

Up to this point in your relationship with Astarion, he has become more comfortable voicing his opinions and concerns with you. He is learning to value his autonomy and his non-physical relationships. He will tell you when he doesn’t want to do something. In fact, he’ll break up with you over pushing his boundaries. He is fine with you pursuing the Drow twins and fine with you sleeping with Haarlep, even comforts you when Haarlep uses your form. So when he says he is okay with you pursuing Halsin, he means it. Yes, he voices his insecurity with you that you may be pursuing Halsin because you and he haven’t had sex in a while. But he acknowledges that Halsin has experience in this arrangement and doesn’t pose a threat to your relationship. Plus, if you kiss Halsin in front of him, he’ll say “don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the show.”

To me, the idea that this is the ONE thing that Astarion doesn't have agency over in an arc of showing he can speak up for himself is you sleeping with Halsin is an idea that takes more agency from Astarion. He is a grown man. A 240 YEAR OLD man. That trauma he's endured does not mean he needs to be babied or coddled because he can't make his own choices. I think that's an unfair assumption to put on him that Halsin and Tav being together is the ONLY thing he can't enforce his boundaries on.

If he didn't want you to be with Halsin, he would say no like every other monogamous character in the game.

If you want a good example of someone saying yes just because they want to keep you, look at Karlach. You can tell she is HEARTBROKEN when you ask her, but she says “I don’t want to lose you”. That is not an enthusiastic participant in a polyamorous relationship. Astarion says “yeah, go for it! Just give me some reassurance”. Polyamory is not immune to insecurity. I've asked for reassurance in my own relationships and so has my primary partner. That’s not unenthusiastic. That’s realistic as shit. If you ask him about the relationship after you finish his questline, he doesn’t need reassurance because you’re having sex again. That’s also super realistic.

Am I sensitive to this as someone who practices ENM? Almost certainly. It's hard to see a lifestyle I live be villainized and claimed to be "forced" onto characters. I was actually really excited that I could pursue both Astarion and Halsin, and that Halsin places so much importance on consent and not misleading your partner. And it sucks SOO much to see one of my favorite characters be reduced to "oh, he's only doing it because he's afraid to lose Tav." It makes me almost feel bad for liking the interactions between them and enjoying to option. Do I think people mean to make me or other poly people feel bad? No.

But it does.

Headcanons are headcanons. I get it. People are absolutely allowed to interpret the poly aspect of BG3 how they want to. People are allowed to feel uncomfy with how it's portrayed and not pursue it. But it still bums a queer ENM Astarion and Halsin lover out.

Now excuse me whilst I live out my Astarion x Halsin x Tav polycule fantasies in the form of fanfiction.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 companions #spawn astarion #astarion #polyamory #enm #ethical non monogamy #halsin x astarion #act iii #halsin #monogamy

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delicrieux · 5 months ago

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…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆｡°✩

⋆⭒˚.⋆ chapter summary. you did this to yourself.

pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader warnings for this chapter. swearing (i think) wc. 3.5k author’s note. and with this, we end our lil pre-relationship arc! and what's prewritten, so now y'all will have to wait. but not for too long since i'm very generous and also the best. it's almost time for a kiss xx

ੈ ✩‧₊˚

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | twny masterlist | < back | next >

CHAPTER 7: the missionTM (3)

right, so. a few things need to be established before facing the present moment.

first, once you were thoroughly exhausted by utahime, you returned to the room. her persistence to wrangle you into her and mei’s shared bedroom, which, in fact, had two nice, large beds, enough to share and not have anyone breathe down your neck, was indeed very tempting, and you almost succumbed. you didn’t for a reason you’re not yet sure of; all you know that each time she looked at you, pleading eyes and hands clasped close to her chest, an image of gojo left alone among the festival goers flashed in your mind, and you couldn’t force out a confirmation.

by all means, you have shared a bed with utahime. it had been nice and comfortable, and the two of you giggled under the covers, discussing the crushes on the tv show actors you had at the time. it was your first year at jujutsu tech, and you were sent on a mission with kyoto to establish rapport between the schools (no one else was willing, and yaga-sensei deemed you pleasant enough to be successful), and to say you were fast friends was an understatement – you clicked instantly, upon first glance, maybe. there was something about utahime’s tenacity and honesty you admired, and there was something about your openness and thick-skin she liked. kindness didn’t sabotage your backbone, and thus, you found a lot of things in common.

mei you like as well, though not as much. you feel she is quite cold underneath that clement smile, gaze curious but never attentive. however, it’s not mei’s presence that dissuaded you from joining them. you wish it was. god, what a mess.

it all sort of accumulated. fleetingly, you thought that gojo had returned to tokyo. you didn’t meet him once during the festival, which left you oddly desolate, as it was prime time for him to ruin your reunion with your dear friends – no trying to trip you up, no swiping at your ice cream, no public declarations of “hey! she stole that!,” no covering your eyes with his hands once the fireworks began so you’d miss the whole display. it was a bit unnerving, and you kept glancing over your shoulder enough for mei to ask, “are you expecting someone?”

the answer was, of course, a startled and incriminating, “no!”

when you did decline utahime’s fifth try to lure you into bed, she became suspicious. brows pinched and a displeased look, “how come, huh? you’d rather stay in a room with him?” she didn’t even say his name; utahime tried to avoid forming the syllables because she said it leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

you held up your hands, like a thief caught red-handed, “no, no, i’d rather be with you two, really,” and you meant it, despite the something clattering in your brain, back and forth, back and forth, distant and strange and completely incomprehensible, “just that we need to wake up early tomorrow, and we’d hardly get any sleep if it was the three of us.”

for the first and likely only time, mei came to your rescue, “hmmm, she’s right,” she was already changing into her pajama’s, languid and elegant with the expensive, gleaming material hiding her body, “i am a bit tired after today. those curses…”

utahime shuddered, “don’t remind me, please.” a sigh followed, and you knew you’d won, “you sure you’ll be okay, though?”

“course. we got separate beds, and it’s not like he would actually try anything.”

“he better not,” she grumbled, “scream and i’ll actually rip him to pieces. i will do it with my bare hands—no, i’ll put on gloves first. i don’t want to actually touch him.”

“or better yet,” mei hummed, “send him here.”

the implication left you weirdly discontent. a pinch in your stomach where his hand had rested, so real that you had half the mind to look behind you to make sure he hadn’t manifested to defend himself. he didn’t. somehow, that was worse.

“absolutely not,” utahime stated, and you fought the urge to nod in agreement. she plopped down on her bed, exhausted, “no man is ruining this sanctuary.”

you exited with that. a bit confused and nervous, like some parts of you were rearranged perfectly but in the wrong manner. the door at the end of the dim hallway was suddenly intimidating, because finding a vacant room would make you extremely happy…right?

right. and that’s where you are now, palms clammy from sweat that surely accumulated from the dreaded heat plaguing the whole day. the night had cooled, rising harsh winds and bringing heavy clouds that obscured the stars as soon as the fireworks ended. maybe if he didn’t leave, he locked the door. then, at least, you’d feel vindicated, which is much better than that flutter pulling at your nerves. was this a part of his plan, too? set you on edge? it was, no doubt about that.

the room is, in fact, not locked, nor is it vacant. light spills from behind you, dousing the inky dark in vague silhouettes and shadows. gojo is here, and he’s sleeping, breathing soundly in the bed made for one. there’s a spot left for you beside him, a small space fit for another body. he could’ve easily taken up the whole mattress and then some, but he didn’t.

you’re not very good with deep contemplations – getou, you think, is, because he has the patience to untangle carefully. you don’t. all those neurons snapping just leave you angry.

still, you shut the door quietly, and still, you weigh the pros and cons of playing into this game. the lonely matt by the door is not exactly inviting, and you’re in too deep anyway. so, as silent as you can manage, you collect your pajamas and toiletries and lock yourself in the bathroom for a quick bed routine.

this is so silly. you want to giggle into a pillow because of how fucking ridiculous it is, but, when you leave the bathroom, changed, teeth cleaned, and face fed generously with skincare, his shadow in bed doesn't look silly. more so daunting, almost threatening, like he has more power over the situation than you want to give him credit for.

the first splatters of rain hit the closed windows. it's very dark, dark enough for you to have trouble discerning where's what, and you grapple for surfaces, afraid to trip over. the floorboard squeak and groan under your stealthy steps, and you can imagine him, sprawled there, twisting in annoyance until you plop down beside him.

you find your way there eventually, lower yourself carefully. no purchase, as a sudden movement would have you falling off the bed, which would hurt. it's very warm for your shower-cooled skin. and then... then. you don't really know. the raindrops pelt, and a flash of lightning cuts the world in half.

...a hand clasps at your thigh and pulls you close to a body, "mmh... where've ya been?"

the room fills with a thunderous, yet not exactly grating, noise. your breath hitches when his forehead bumps against the nape of your neck and you get a whiff of the floral bath soap he uses. so weirdly intimate.

"how are you not asleep?" you complain.

"was, until you opened the door," his voice is quiet. slurred, almost, like he's drunk, but gojo doesn't drink.

"..."

he has the audacity to press his chest close to your back, almost hugging you. the palm at your thigh makes no move to grope or linger, resting peacefully as another would, and you almost feel like it's innocent. or was that his goal the whole time? to tease, and nothing more?

warm. too warm. why does it make you flush?

"don't worry," gojo mutters, words pressed against the dip of your spine, "i promise i'm a gentleman," he gives a little squeeze, "mostly."

"most is not all," you snip, but don't shove him off.

he chuckles and the tremors buzz down to your toes, "too true," his palm flattens over your stomach, and he burrows deeper, "still. get some sleep."

something about his calm voice and warmth, and the thunder-rain-light show outside makes you sleepy, the type where you struggle against your eyes drooping and shutting for good. gojo isn't being very accommodating, the fingers playing with your shirt like they're making a decision. you'll hear him sigh and you'll be tugging your clothes into a semblance of respectability. he'll hum and you'll try to move away from the pleasant vibration. he'll curl even tighter and you'll want to lie there for eternity.

suguru: you awake? 3:49am

you: morning! sorry, i was already sleeping. what’s up? (o´ ▽ `o*)ﾉ 8:25am

you: i got you a souvenir ☆ i hope you’ll like it. gojo said you wouldn’t, but he’s a useless liar so 9:01am

you: i was thinking that we could all go to the arcade once we get back from the mission. have a nice weekend all to ourselves. i asked shoko, she said it’s ok as long as we go for a beer later. haibara-kun and nanami-kun also agreed. will you be free? 10:30am

at exactly 12:59pm, you are almost pressing the dial button, but gojo snaps your phone shut before you manage.

“hey!” you bristle, turning to your discontent seatmate.

his expression is shrouded by the lenses, but you see the tilt of his mouth, and he hasn't once left you alone for more than 30 seconds. he snatches the cell phone and slips it into his pocket, "that's theft."

he shrugs, "so sue me. i'll win in court, obviously."

"obviously," you seethe.

a clear, childish snort and the grin brightens considerably, and for a second, your gut churns – just for a moment, as fast as a breeze whipping the treetops and disappearing again. the train ride back to tokyo has so far gone in a similar fashion: him trying to annoy you and you somehow managing to refrain from clocking him in the jaw.

he is, however, not as irritating as he usually is, which is a feat in itself. it's... normal. nothing too special, nothing too bad. the gojo of 5 hours ago, waking you gently and shaking you and talking to your sleepy, bleary, barely conscious mind was different, kind, almost pleasant. and now he is like he always is, and it doesn’t bother you nearly as much as you wish it did.

right now, there is no reprieve, but, thankfully, you're used to his behavior.

"’sides," he leans his cheek on a fist, elbow on the armrest, "am i not entertaining enough for you?"

"seriously? begging for attention? are you that desperate?" you reach into his pockets, and, honestly, gojo could prevent this easily. you could tell; his technique is flexible in the physical department, too. so, letting you get too close is, in fact, quite voluntary on his end.

maybe he wanted to fluster you. it's not working. you're just irate as per usual, which must disappoint him.

"woah!" he stops you suddenly, hand on wrist, "at least buy me dinner first."

your anger fizzles into irritation when you notice you've garnered more than a few spectators. several pairs of curious, judging eyes glare at you from over the rims of magazines and newspapers and even laptops, and, yes, gojo's existence commands a lot of attention. he's always in the peripheries of every person within a mile radius without even trying.

so, the anger rears up again, because his antics have definitely ruined your chances of a peaceful, uneventful ride home, "gimmie my phone."

his grip is quite strong, holding you at an arm's length, "nah."

"you're an asshole, you know that?"

"stop thinking 'bout my ass, gosh, you'll make me blush," he takes that same hand and fans himself playfully, "but fine! since i'm the sweetest, nicest, and the kindest."

he fishes out your phone, lays it in your waiting palm, and then just looks at you like he's expecting something in return.

"what?"

a few seconds pass, his head tilts to a side, and you're left befuddled when his tongue darts out to wet his lips, "my thank you?'"

the first instinct, the correct one, is to say "go to hell" and forget this conversation even happened. the second, which you voice, is, "you expect gratitude for stealing my phone and then caving under zero pressure to return it?" your eyebrows must be all the way to your forehead. he is astounding.

he looks away, displeased, "not zero. you basically tried to fondle me. in public. in a train, even, how shameless of you."

"i did not."

"you did."

"not."

"did."

"oh god," you rub at your temples. a headache is oncoming.

gojo laughs. it's pretty, rich in pitch and loud, and more than a few people crane their heads, but now the stares are full-blown wonder. a bit sickening. you wouldn't be surprised if someone came up begging for a picture.

"could you please stop drawing attention to yourself?" you hiss.

"me?" he points at himself, glasses riding down. a flutter his pale eyelashes, "impossible," and a charming smirk. his pupils dart to your mouth, a full 1.5-second pause that makes your neck heat up. and, after what seems like a break for a wink and an allure, the spectacles are back.

what.

you open and close your mouth, unsure whether you saw correctly. the light must have been playing tricks on you, because whatever the hell that was, it was too honest for gojo. and all too out of character, too, because he's been calling you ugly for three years now. his first words to you might've been, "ew, what the hell is wrong with your face?"

what a bunch of shit, actually. now that you remember.

he's definitely just being his usual self, trying to rile you up, and to prove some point about being irresistible. typical, predictable, and so normal you relax instantly, letting go of any concern or interest in that strange glimpse.

once back at tokyo, you grab him by the sleeve. it's an involuntary reaction, but to be fair, you don't exactly even see gojo. he is simply the nearest person, and thus, subjected to your weird whims.

he stops, looks down at you, and he must see something he doesn't like because his placid expression crumbles, "...what?"

"neeeee!" you tug and tug and tug, and there might be stars in your eyes, and maybe a dopey smile, too, as you stare at the figure getting swallowed by the people rushing to their platforms, "i think i just saw ueda-san!"

"who?"

"ueda tatsuya-san. from kat-tun!" you finally, after a lot of effort and some seriously heavy panting, arrive at a secluded corner, "he was there, i swear!" you glance back. there's no one even remotely resembling the idol and a part of you is disappointed, the fan in you crying out to at least see an outstretched hand in a peace sign, "isn't that exciting?!"

the distaste only increases tenfold, but he hides it by shoving his hands into his pockets, a bored slouch, "so?"

your world freezes, a full 5 seconds before, "what?! what do you mean ‘so’?! this is such a cool coincidence! like...it's..." you inhale sharply, "fate!"

"haaaaaaaah?!" he stares down at you like you've gone insane, mouth open, a glimpse of teeth, "fate?"

"yes!" you respond enthusiastically, "do you think he saw me? this is my chance!"

"to die?"

"what?" you squint, confused, "why would i die? i want an autograph—"

"how'd you even know him, huh?" gojo pokes your forehead, pushing you back slightly, "have you ever talked to him in your life? he doesn't even know who you are," and, yeah, you'll admit, you don't have any arguments for that, and you hadn't really expected gojo to be the respectable, thoughtful adult in this situation.

still. surely fate has placed you and ueda-san in the same, massive tokyo train station so you could have a meet-cute like in the movies and fall deeply in love. you would quit your sorcerer job on the spot, travel with his band, gosh, the songs he'd write about you. this is all too much. you clasp hands on your cheeks. your head is spinning.

and all while gojo, a fan as well, or so you'd assumed, stands and watches you break down into a puddle of lovesick nonsense.

"oh god," he breathes, "stop," the distress leaks, "woman, snap out of it," his voice is strained.

"gosh, i dunno, gosh," you shake your head, "i don't think i'm ready to marry, i'm only 20. this is crazy,"

"the hell are you acting like he proposed to you? you maybe just saw the back of his head," gojo's agitation rises steadily, a tick in his jaw.

you clutch the material of his shirt, "no, it was really him. maybe i should go check?"

"no!" he puts his hands around your elbows, half-pulling and half-guiding you, "what’s gotten into you? snap out of it."

"but i gotta run after him," you jerk and struggle. the hallways, the other people are mere smears to the focus of your tunnel vision. ueda was just in sight, and he'll soon be slipping between crowds you could never catch in a million years, "this is my only chance!"

"like hell!" gojo grits, "quit it! be a normal fucking person."

"w-wait a minute—"

gojo places two large palms on either side of your head, forcing you to look at him, and the fog clears as your eyes meet. the calm, composed, and serious glower shuts you up on its own merit and, shamefully, all you can think is how striking his features are.

he's breathtaking.

"breathe."

it comes as an order, though soft.

"and think."

your gaze lingers on the slope of his nose and how he holds himself, his entire posture radiating a fierce and all-consuming type of pride. his chin, his jaw, his cheekbones, the tilt of his lips, and you become overwhelmed. the need to shrink in and hide away has you clenching your teeth.

his grip tightens, "no. look at me."

and so you do. you have a mountain of complaints: to yourself, to the unfairness of this moment, because those fingers holding you up shouldn't exist, not around you. he shouldn't hold your face like this, tender, almost comforting, a thumb stroking your cheek absent-mindedly.

"good."

and, yes, a spark goes through you, and no, it is not that kind. it's panic, full-blown terror and the epiphany of what the fuck are you even doing?

"okay?" he asks.

"mmh," you nod quickly, "yeah, mhmm,"

his hands lower, come to rest atop your shoulders, and they're just as hot as a branding iron, "do you see why you're an embarrassment?"

and the magic ends as soon as it came, and he is repulsive again.

"buzzkill," you mutter, defeated.

“shoooko!” you barge into her room unannounced and uninvited, like it was your very own, and it might as well be by the amount of time you usually spend here. holding up a small gift bag, you present it with flourish, “i come with gifts!”

“welcome back,” she says dully, lounging on her messy bed and flipping through her fashion magazine, “how was the mission?”

you hum, tactfully avoiding the question by plopping down beside her, “i think i saw ueda-san at the train station!”

“ehhhhh?” now that gets her attention, and she’s all interest, “did you get a picture?”

“no, no,” you sigh, “was stopped by a lanky loser. gojo really is good for nothing.”

you miss the small smirk and the slight narrow of her eyes, “stopped you, huh? now why would he do that, i wonder..."

"because he's an asshole that wants to see me miserable?" you provide helpfully, getting more comfortable.

she flicks your forehead, and you wince, "you two are so silly."

"haibara-kun! nanami-kun!" you find them training in the dojo, and you barely manage to take off your shoes before you're sprinting full force to greet them, a gift in each hand, "i got you souvenirs from hitoyoshi!"

"mah, aren't you excited?" nanami stares with slight distaste when the box of sweets is literally shoved into his unsuspecting hand.

haibara, on the other hand, looks like he might grow a tail and start waggling it, "thank you so much, kawakami-sempai! these are so thoughtful, i appreciate them!" he immediately tears the packaging off, takes a hearty bite.

he sighs, content.

you wave off their praise like it's nothing. well, haibara's praise, but you’re used to nanami’s polite demeanor and quiet nature, so it must mean he is beyond ecstatic to receive such a thoughtful gift, "of course, of course! i gotta take care of my juniors,"

nanami grunts and examines the chocolate-coated cakes and cookies with an air of someone that is reluctantly pleased, "mmm, thanks."

you flash him an exaggerated smile, and he averts his gaze. got him, ha! you are the best sempai on this entire planet.

once you distributed the souvenirs, you swung by getou's dorm room. knocked, waited, only to realize he's not there. you left the gift bag by his door.

later, you find out that he’s gone on a mission, and that he likely won’t be back soon.

tags (couldn’t tag the marked). @shokosbunny , @jotarohat , @alygator77 , @fortunatelyfurrygiver , @finnydraws , @mastermasterlist1p1 , @eolivy , @letsmyy , @staruus , @k0z3me , @damnshorty , @kaeyakaikai , @n4melesspers0n , @midnightwriter21 , @sillymercury , @byakuya61085 , @stillnotherapy

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obeymematches · 7 months ago

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Hi! How about hc of mc getting pursued by another demon to be with them instead since the demon brothers ignores them and doesn't treat them that well connected to their avatar (like how belphie ignores you 24/7 for sleep) I just wanna see possessive demon brothers please! 🥺

ahhh i remember the guy who i was _just_ talking to on tinder say i needed to have his name painted on my nails... what a funny guy he was

also i'm having this in several parts, it's gonna be that long.

Possessive.

Prolouge;

You supposed you and him had a special chemistry between the two of you. It is hard to describe what it was like but you felt it everytime you looked into his eyes, heard their voice, felt their touch. To your best knowledge the feeling was mutual, he did ask you out on a couple of dates. Until he stopped texting you (if you texted him he didn’t even open your messages) and sometimes you didn’t even see him for a day or two despite living in the same house. You didn’t want to make the situation more awkward than it already was , so from your point of view you made the most realistic decision. Catching another fish from the sea seem like a great idea.

Lucifer: He saw you from a distance as you were having a chat with Lord Diavolo himself. At the time he preferred not to think much of it. Not that the idea of you falling madly in love with the prince didn’t cross his mind; of course he did consider that a possibility. He knows Diavolo the best and he also knows he’d adore you if he got a chance to. The next day you and Diavolo walk by, completely unnoticing him. He didn’t eavesdrop; what would be the point of that? But he, or to be more specific, this side of the RAD building could hear Diavolo joking about and laughing with you. It was most unusual! Especially in public like this, Diavolo would normally keep it lowkey, it would be too risky to let anyone know he enjoys your company.

That’s when The Avatar of Pride had the idea to check the message you sent him ….. almost 3 weeks ago.

Was telling you he was busy be good enough? Would you buy that? Most likely not. It was a shame he let the situation escalate like this, however it’s been decades or maybe even a century since he felt chemistry with anyone the way he did with you. Of course he can’t tell you like it is, otherwise he wouldn’t be the Avatar if Pride but the Avatar of Bluntness.

As much as it hurt his ego to admit it, he did grow fond of you.

„Meet me in my office, 3PM today.”

As you read his message your little human heart almost skipped a beat. It’s going to be awkward assisting him after you started growing feelings for him, feelings which he pretty clearly never reciprocated. You don’t really feel like meeting him, quite honestly.

So you didn’t meet him. He could call you if it was so urgent anyway.

The next day he made sure to run into you when you weren’t in the company of his friend.

„We must talk. Are you free now?”

„I am, for now. I have a class in 20 minutes.”

„I am sorry I did not talk to you about it sooner. Our last date was everything I could ask for. It would be a shame if you were seeing anyone else now. Are you free this afternoon?”

„Oh…um…how should I put this… if you really enjoyed it that much how come you were avoiding me for weeks?”

„I will tell you everything later. I promise.”

• It is up to you to accept or decline him now, however his possessivenes will get the best of him in the following days. He’ll be waiting for you after classes just to talk to you. Sometimes he even gives you a rose. Why is he being so desperate now? Thankfully his pride doesn’t allow him to talk to Diavolo about the situation.

Mammon:

There you are, in his favourite pub, playing pool with two attractive demons plus a duo who appears to be a couple. He knows you can’t play pool very well; it was most definitely not your idea to come here and play. Then who’s? Are you on a date? That cannot be happening.

Yes, he stopped spending time with you but it hasn’t been that long, has it??

He checked your message which you sent about 4 days ago. Surely not much time has passed since!

He ordered himself AND YOU a drink and didn’t hesitate to go up to you.

„Heyy, watcha up to? This ones for ya.”

„Thanks Mammon-��

„So who’re ya here with?”

„I’m with my friend” you look at one of the members of the couple.

„And who’re these losers? Lemme join ya!” he said as he put his arm around your waist.

„Well actually we don’t know them. They were just here, playing.”

The night went by, Mammon did provide you support in the game, although he is not much of a pro himself either. He did his best.

„Sorry I didn’t text ya. I was hustlin at Hell’s Kitchen ya know, givin me sweet money for working nightshift.”

You didn’t really reply as it was still a bit hard to believe him.

„And I also got me a second hustle for the day. I needa get more money! I wanna take ya on some nice ass dates, not a stupid coffe from the machine again.”

• Even if you tell him so he won’t leave you alone for the night. • Which is nice as the unknown demons left already! Now you are for sure for him only!

Part 1.

Tumblr is out there making me fight for my life as I'm trying to edit this post

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me mammon #obey me!#swd obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me luci x reader #obey me luficer #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me imagine #obey me x gender neutral reader

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niiine · 2 years ago

Text

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Character(s). Xiao, Scaramouche, Kaedehara Kazuha, Venti, Aether, and Shikanoin Heizou

Synopsis. How I see the 6reeze as College Students (with a bit of reader)💖

Fluff

Kinda Xiao x Reader (NO ONE CAN STOP ME)

Includes other characters.

I’ll be graduating this June and I’ll forever be sad that I’m not in the same univ. as them 🥺 If someone writes a fic with this theme, please tag me 😭

Xiao, Kazuha, and Venti are roommates in the University Dorm house, Scaramouche lives with his aunt that lives near the univ, Aether with his sister, and Heizou alone.

Although, most of the time, they have a sleepover at the dorms because Heizou argues that “You guys will be the reason if we’re late for that 7 am class if you don’t let us sleep here.”

No, he just wanna spend time with his friends.

Xiao excelsin mathematics, Kazuha and Venti in literature and music, Aether’s an average in everything, Scaramouche doesn’t care but pass subjects anyways, and Heizou is good at everything.

Heizou and Aether makes sure that everyone in the circle is studying and listening while Kazuha is in charge of checking if everyone’s eating right. Xiao always gets an earful because the man lives in instants.

Scaramouche and Xiao are the reason no one dares to touch and taunt their group, but Scaramouche will falter at the gaze of her aunt, and Xiao is the most reserved in their circle.

Venti sings. He sings a low, gentle tone when everyone feels exhausted after a long day at the university, he hums softly when he feels like one of his friends are having an anxiety attack, but can’t talk about it (He always know, he’s the most observant) and he sings his heart out to cheer anyone.

Aether and Kazuha are the middleman. Scara’s being an asshole to one of their classmates? Kazuha will be shooting him a glare from across the room. Venti being the chaos himself? Aether will come and calm down the oh-so energetic lad.

And oh, they all know about Xiao’s little crush on you, with—again, as the calmest— Kazuha and Aether giving the best advice. Aether sometimesasking hissistertobring you to one of their friend dates so his friend can spend some time with you out of the campus.

Scaramouche will be throwing disgusting looks teasingly at Xiao when he notices that the latter is lovestruck, earning a glare with the same energy.

Venti, contrary to popular belief, is the most helpful. This is because he’s also your friend. He tells Xiao one dinner at the dormwhat or what not to do when it comes to you, with the said man giving him a “I don’t need that. I don’t like her” of which Kazuha sighed into.

“What was that for? I really don’t!” can be heard throughout the room.

And it was Scaramouche who had made him realized that he did like you.

“Well if you don’t like her, then I guess you wouldn’t mind if I pursue her?”

Cue the pissed off Xiao halfheartedly admitting he is head over heels for you.

Since their group is always the hot topic at school— please, they’re all good looking, academically good (somehow), kind of rich, etc., you’re genuinely surprised when one of them falls for you. And Venti will laugh it off because you are, if not better, as good as his friends.

They didn’t help Xiao in the confession part, though. They want their friend to do it himself because it will only be worth it by then.

But the pride and joy they’ve felt when he did? It’s comparable to yours.

“WE RAISED THAT BABY”

When you started dating, you find yourself always almost hanging around their friend group.

Scaramouche still throwing disgusted looks at the sight of you and Xiao, with your boyfriend returning a sharp stare.

Your kind of worried but Kazuha tells you that it’s affection and love between the two of them, earning a fit of chuckle from Heizhou who kind of became one of your best friend aside from Venti in the group. Dragging you here and there to play games.

No one can touch you under their watch. Much like Lumine, Aether’s sister. They’re so protective of you and Xiao is thankful for that.

And if they didn’t flinch at Heizhou and Venti’s sarcastic remarks, or Scaramouche’s glares, then they will surely run home crying when Xiao enters the picture.

Kazuha and Aether in the sidelines making sure no one will go to jail.

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lilac-5ky · 1 year ago

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Hiya! Can you do one when y/n is bratting off to toji while grocery shopping at 3am(they're alone)🤩😍

A/N: Funnily enough I was sent this while grocery shopping myself. Also, I'm aware that another writer also did a request like this recently, but who am I to say no? However, I'll raise you this: Bratty!Reader dragging Toji to the store at 3am with the goal of having fun 'cause he's been neglecting her.

Tags: public sex gone wrong, unprotected sex, implied car sex, age gap (toji 30's, reader 20's), spanking, bratty reader, soft!dom toji, light degradation, daddy kink, piv, standing sex, name calling (slut, whore), nicknames (baby,sweetheart, kid, etc.), lowkey sugar daddy vibes from toji, talk of masturbation, our man being pussy drunk, theft!?!

Word Count: 3.9k

“Ya seriously gonna wear that?” Your boyfriend’s eyebrow quirks at the sight of you plopping down on the passenger’s seat, the sharp green eye it framed cautiously studying the naked parts of your body; dressing rather than undressing you whole.

“Already am! Why—‘s there something wrong with my clothes?” You bat your eyes sweetly.

This was all part of a bigger plan that was set in motion the second you interrupted his sleep and dragged him out of bed to rev up the car for your nightly excursion to the 24/7 grocery store. Your pink terry-cloth shorts and loose-fitting crop top that barely stretch over your thighs and belly button, respectively—those are your props for the final fact, and you, the star of the show.

“You’re wearing makeup.” Toji accuses as if that’s the root of all evil, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His nose scrunches up. “And perfume.”

“Really?” You feign ignorance with a candied smile. “Must’ve forgotten to take it off. Oopsie.”

“Forgot…sure.” His fingers are still in your hair when he nods, his hand sliding down your neck as he leans closer.

Toji isn’t an idiot. He sees it in the way your pink tongue darts outside your lips a bit too often, wearing off the two layers of gloss you’d carefully applied while he was waiting for you to fetch your precious coupons. He notices how your thighs rub together, your little pussy silently protesting for his neglecting it all night long. And when your cheek willingly tilts into the warmth of his large palm, he knows neither radishes nor toilet paper are what’s in your mind right now.

“My baby doin’ all this for my attention?” His thumb pads across your skin, swiping below you defined eyelash line. “Acting pouty cause I didn’t take care of her needs?”

You find it hard to resist when his other hand dives between your thighs, sidetracking from your own devious plot. He sounds earnest in his efforts, his lips curling into an an apologetic smile they sear on yours. You almost moan from that.

You can’t remember the last time he’d kissed you, even when that was a few days ago, at worst. What you do remember is the reason why you’re doing all this, and you refuse to return it. You let him pointlessly swirl his tongue in your mouth, failing to meet with your folded one.

“C’mon, princess, don’t go cold on me,” he mumbles. “Told ya work was shit today.” You said that the previous day, too. “Couldn’t even keep my eyes open to see how pretty you are. So damn pretty,” he takes his chances again, only this time you have no qualms about backing away toward the window.

His frustration gathers in his grip, his fingers digging crescent moons in the fat of your thighs. He glares, and you chuckle awkwardly before the situation can get out of hand.

“That’s not it! So what if this is the eight night in a row you come home beat after midnight and we haven’t… you know, in nearly two weeks? You think I’m counting? You think I don’t know how hard you work? That I don’t appreciate all the nice things your money’s gotten us?”

You plant a quick peck on his blossoming scowl. “Because I do. I really do, it’s just today’s the last day to cash these coupons out. Don’t want me going off on my own in the middle of the night, do you?”

He keeps quiet, the sole reason he allows himself to be manipulated by such cheap tricks being that up until fifteen minutes ago he was —unbeknownst to him— drooling on your pillow. That and to strip you off your clothes later on; a reason not too dissimilar from your own.

“Let’s go. I promise we’ll be snugglin’ in bed before you realize we were gone.”

“Are those stupid coupons worth that much to ya?” Toji asks.

No, they aren’t. You couldn’t care less about these stupid coupons if you tried, but staying home means spending another night burning your eyes at your phone’s screen by the snoring corpse on the left side of the bed. And you’d tried. You’d gone through every lingerie set in your possession, dabbed a generous amount of that falsely advertised Moroccan oil across your legs and rubbed your silky-smooth cunt all over his crotch like a bitch in heat, only to be turned down with another of his hoarse groans.

You’ve been patient with him. You are grateful that as tired as he was, he chose your bed to pass out on and not some random “coworker’s”. That the flawed man you’ve fallen head over heels for put up effort into straightening up for you. But relationships don’t run on gratitude alone. You miss him. His touch, his kiss, his fuck—even the green color swallowed past his permanently shut eyelids. If a silly idea is what it takes to have your boyfriend back, then you’ll gladly sit through a ten-minute drive of resentment.

“Yes, they are.” You smile, watching his hand relocate to the gear lever.

The clock points to 3:18 AM when Toji pulls over at the vacant parking lot that mirrors the state of the store; no one but a single employee to defend the fortress from the safety of his register. He acknowledges your presence with a nod, his head buried between the pages of the latest Shounen Jump. That’s not very professional of him, but what can you expect from someone who receives his paychecks for acting as a guard dog?

Toji grabs a cart from the stand and lazily pushes it into the first aisle, while you follow after the long-drawn gait of his sandals. You can’t help but pick on his slouch, both elbows balancing against the handlebar. His hair’s still ruffled from sleep, though it’s always kind of messy in a cute, boyish way. His shoulders seem twice as broad, prompting you to loop your arms around his slim waist and nuzzle your cheek against his back. You love how big he looks from this angle, yet not as big as he looks when he’s hunched over you with both your legs on both his shoulders—

“What’s your first coupon for?” He glances at you over his shoulder.

You sort the coupons in your hands, finding the one closest to the aisle you’re strolling.

“Soda. It’s right there,” you point out, and he takes a turn.

He parks the cart on the opposite end of the shelves while you take stock of the different cans and bottles, contemplating whether to start high or low. Your eyes fall on a six-pack bundle of grapefruit soda shoved deep into the highest shelf. You don’t love the flavor, but this will do.

You tiptoe to the shelves and stretch your arms as much as possible, your shirt lifting to reveal your bare back to him while your fingertips barely make contact with the edge of the plastic packaging. Your tits bounce as you jump up and down a few times before you graciously admit defeat.

“Toji? Would you mind getting that for me?” You ask pleadingly.

His jaw falls slack after a minute-long yawn, his eyes tracking your index finger to the bundle it points at. He cocks his head while sizing you up, a hint of a smirk twitching at his scar. He’s finally awake.

“Nah, you do it. Aren’t ya the one who preaches women’s equality and says there’s nothing men can do that women can’t?” Toji sneers. “Go on, kid. ‘m watching.”

A sigh leaves you as you turn around. “Feminism‘s got nothing to do with height.”

You throw yourself over the shelves again and hook a finger under the plastic net that binds the sodas together. The cans shimmy near the brink, and you are certain you will catch them when Toji’s hips suddenly snap against your ass. You yelp as the cans threaten to squash your head, a hand catching them with ease in mid-air while another hikes up your shirt and exposed underboob.

His hot breath tickles the shell of your ear as his lips attach to your lobe. “It’s got everything to do with you dressing like a whore, though, doesn’t it?”

You bite your lip into a straight line as you’re sandwiched between his body and the shelves, his fingers pinching your nipple harshly. You almost whimper—almost give in to him too easily when he starts grinding onto you, the press of his groin becoming more prominent with every languid sway.

“Wanna get fucked like one?” Toji doesn’t mumble so much as groan in your ear. “Promise I’ll be quick; heh, might give ya some more coupons after.”

An automated message informing you of the special discount in the baking aisle allows you to slip away from his clutches, and you’re unable to keep your giggles to yourself. His fists pang against the shelf while he curses under his breath. The sight is pathetic, but not pathetic enough for you to call things even. You want him to suffer like you did.

“On second thought, I’m trying to cut down on soda.” You declare much to his audible dismay. “Let’s check the baking aisle next. We’re out of bread.”

Toji stalks behind you, assuming his previous bored stance while pushing the cart forward with his entire body. You hear him huff every now and then, but don’t pay any mind. At least he’ll be rewarded handsomely for his patience. Yours wasn’t.

You halt in front of the various loaves and pastries, overjoyed to see that the overpriced organic linseed bread you constantly made excuses to not buy is 50% down. This might be a good chance to try it out. You fling it in the cart and continue your search for baked goods on the lower shelves. Jam-filled donuts. You definitely don’t need those, but it’s the only purchase you can justify, considering you have no use for the baking supplies surrounding them.

You make sure his eyes are fixed on you and bend over, exaggerating the arch of your bum. You hum softly, unsuspecting of any danger, and rock your hips while supposedly inspecting the labels. Strawberry jam, cherry jam, apricot jam, and—there it is. Your hair falls over your face as you catch his feet stepping between your own. Soon, his presence is felt rather than sensed.

Toji’s palm spreads over your cheek, his fingers long enough to squeeze a good chunk of flesh between them. “You cunning little slut,” he says in a gravelly voice. “Y’think I don’t know what you’re trynna do?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just checking the fillings; can’t read the letters while standing.” You lie through your teeth.

“Fillings, huh?” He repeats, and the word changes meaning on his tongue, gaining a lewd intonation. “Anyone can fill that sloppy cunt from this angle, sweetheart. That why you insist on doin’ groceries alone? Y’enjoy letting others see my pussy?”

You love how possessive he gets over your body. That’s another thing you’ve missed. You want him to say it again—to stake his claim over every inch of your body like he did before this hellish month began. You chose this store because you knew it would turn into a graveyard at this hour, but you honestly wouldn’t mind if it was packed with people either. You’d want to be filled by him all the same.

In a moment of weakness, you breathe out his name, and he slaps your ass so hard it reverberates across the aisles as an off-beat drum to the chirpy background music.

“Don’t ‘Toji’ me, girl. Y’know what to call me.”

“D-daddy,” you correct.

“There’s my baby,” Toji praises. “Taught her good manners, mhm?

Your cheeks assume a rosy shade. You’ve never used that name on him in public. It feels exhilarating—perhaps even more so than his fingers shoving the fabric of your shorts to the side and slipping right between your dripping folds.

He gasps. It’s a tiny sound that he thinks you missed, but it’s enough for you to gain confidence. Not many things are capable of shocking the Fushiguro Toji. His other hand joins in the action, rolling your shorts until they dig into your skin like a thong, and his suspicions are confirmed; you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

“Such a naughty girl,” Toji says, and his voice reaches deep within your pulsing core. You don’t think you can do this anymore. Correction: You don’t want to do this anymore.

His middle and ring fingers push into your hole a second time, and he slowly pumps them in and out, your clear essence coating his knuckles. Two fingers shouldn’t stretch you this good. You’re scared that in all these days, your pussy forgot the stretch of his cock.

“I oughta punish ya for acting up like a complete brat without my permission, but I’m feeling generous.” He says and you thank the gods, the universe, and whoever else is listening to your prayers for not letting you become the first woman in human history to experience blue balls.

“Tell me what ya dragged me here for, and don’t gimme any of that coupon bullcrap, or else you’ll be crawling outta here on all fours.”

Is that a promise or a threat?

His thumb finds your clit and you choke on a moan, the red jam squirting out of the donuts you grip. That’s plenty to answer his question.

“Now tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it for ya,” He rubs a full circle around the nub, the rest of his fingers plunging in so deep your knees go weak. “Got lots of options,” he reads the signs over your heads. “Canned; Deli; Snack; Dairy Aisle might be too cold for ya, hah, unless you’re into some temp play.”

His stalling makes you impatient. “Toji, I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right here, right now I’ll fucking implode.”

The older man chuckles lowly, finding your outburst positively endearing. He fixes your shorts back in place and instead grabs your hand, forcing you to follow him through the empty aisles on a walk that seemingly lasts for hours. He finally lets go when you make it to the Candy aisle, where thousands of colorful gummy bears can bear witness to your sinful act.

Toji flashes a wolfish smile as he corners you between two walls and the door leading to the store’s storage room. He points at the ceiling, and you aren’t sure what you’re looking for until he explains, “It’s a blind spot here. Only place without a working camera.”

He cups your cheek and brings your face to his, licking his lips.

“How do you know that?”

“Great minds think alike. Wanted to bring ya here myself some day. Didn’t think your prude ass would act out first. You’re full of surprises.” His tongue enters your mouth and presses flat against your own. Your fingers lace behind his neck, and his get a firm grip on your hips. He’s much harder than before.

“Speaking of your ass,” and they slide to seize both cheeks, “mind turning ‘round for me?”

His question isn’t a request so much as an order you must obey. “Good girl.” Toji praises you and cages your chest with one arm while the other searches for the zipper in his pants. He lets them ride low around his hips and pulls his cock out of its confinement, stroking it with his fist. You hear his breath grow sharper—or maybe it’s yours. You can’t tell over the sound of your heart; the excitement the same as if it were your first time with him.

Instead of tugging your shorts off, he yanks the fabric to one side and runs his reddened tip between your puffy folds. He hasn’t even pushed it in when you tilt your head to meet his hooded green eyes. “I’ve missed you.” His stare lifts, lustful and adoring as ever. “I’ve missed you so damn much, Toji. You’re always here, but never really here—you know?”

Toji cranes his neck to kiss you, you think, but in reality all he does is swallow the moan that comes out as he drills his cock in your hole. “Missed ya more, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes. He just has to win this too.

Once he bottoms out, he takes a moment to snare his arms appropriately around your body; one holding your shoulders semi-straight and the other spanning over your tummy to grab onto your tit, bulging muscles on both. There’s not much you can do with your hands in this position. You plant them over your mouth to drown out some of your sounds before they can pour out, though most end up slipping anyway as his cock begins to bully your insides.

You were right. It’d been so long that your pussy had reverted to its previous state. It’s more than you can take. More overwhelming and much more pleasurable than you remember.

“Got no idea how much I missed you,” Toji grunts, his voice falling out of tempo while his hips rut at a steady pace. “Got no idea how many times I jerked it to your pictures in the stall. How many—times, I beat my meat to that gorgeous face and spilled my load over your pretty lips.”

Tears well up in your eyes from how fast he’s pounding you; the imagery of his balls tensing up with all that cum he’d wasted fantasizing about you making your pussy sob for him, too.

“You got me running there so often, the guys talk shit behind my back, saying pussy got me whipped. They dunno how perfect this tight little hole is—fuck, baby.” He stutters, his teeth sinking into your neck. “Gonna cum if ya keep grippin’ me like that. So fucking tight cause ya gettin’ fucked in public?”

You whine out loud as he slows down, allowing for your hips to meet his thrusts half-way. Your head is drooping forward and your hand sneaks inside your shorts to play with your clit, flicking the small bundle of nerves while his fat cock continuously brushes against your sweetest spot. You bite at your own palm to keep quiet. It’s always the way he runs his mouth that gets you going the most, clouding your inability to think straight.

“Should I just quit?” Toji asks between heavy pants. “Stay home and fuck every day like we used to?”

You nod furiously without anything of what he’s saying registering. Your legs are turned into jello and your mind into mush while his cock splits you open, and you know that if he retracts his arms you’ll collapse on the floor like a rag-doll.

“C’mon, speak up. No one’s gonna hear us, that nobody doesn’t have the guts to come check.” He rolls your stiffened nipple between his calloused fingers, a palm coming down to slap your ass. “Lemme hear that pretty voice.”

“Y-yes.” You rely on pure perseverance to keep your pitch low as you plant your palms on the wall for support. “Don’t wanna share your cock with anyone, T-Toji.”

His lips print a smile on your neck and another on your cheek. “Don’t you mean me, darling?”

You can’t find your voice to answer him, the coil in your guts continuously tensing up—promising the best climax of your goddamn life until it’s taken away by the rapid stomping of the short-stature employee.

“What are you two doing here?” The man asks, unable to fully take in the scene from the other end of the aisle.

Toji’s large frame covers both you and the point where your bodies connect, his hips still moving on their own in spite of his attention being elsewhere. You pull away half-heartedly and straighten the shorts over your body. He leaves to fix his own clothes, while he does all the talking.

“Huh, this place got no restroom?”

Toji scratches the back of his head, waiting for his zipper to be back up before turning to the man. You mentally cast a curse on the employee, wishing it follows his family down to at least three generations, while your walls still flutter over the absence of Toji’s cock, which by the way, is impossible to hide when it’s throbbing a dark stain in his pants.

To no one’s surprise, the employee doesn’t buy your boyfriend’s excuse and demands you leave before he calls the cops. Seeing as Toji’s had enough trouble with the law as is, you grab his hand and the two of you bolt outside, the linseed bread bidding you a sorrowful goodbye from the cart you abandoned.

You don’t stop running until Toji beeps the car doors open and you fall back into your seats, the first glance you share causing you both to burst into laughter. He leans in your direction and you tilt your head in his, lips stealing a quick kiss that’s soon replaced by a playful punch of his shoulder.

“I liked this grocery store!” You complain as if it’s his fault. “Won’t be able to set foot in here ever again.”

“Plenty of fish in the sea, kid.” He shrugs, twisting the key in the engine. His hand moves to the gear, but when he notices your pout persisting, he turns off the ignition.

“Couldn’t even cash out any of my coupons,” you say in a whiny tone.

“At least we got these.”

Your eyes widen as he reveals a small box of Konpeito candy, having not a single clue when and how he managed to get them. “You stole them?”

“Uh… let’s just say I wasn’t allowed to pay for them.” He answers with an innocent smile.

“Toji!” You yell as if stealing candy is any more severe than any of the multiple felonies he’s committed. It isn’t. “Gimme some.”

Toji holds the box out of reach, extending his arm over his headrest to the backseats. “Nah. You said it’s stolen goods, don’t wanna make my baby into an accomplice. You’re far too cute to have your own mugshot.”

His sweet-talking doesn’t stop you from pouncing at him again, your hands attacking each side of his head while he insists to wiggle them away from you. The second-hand vehicle tips back and forth at your attempts, and eventually honks are fired as you climb on his lap, the fight resulting in another make-out session that reaffirms all of his statements as he tears your clothes off your body and pulls his dick out.

He missed you too.

“I’ll give ya some, but… you gonna let me choose where we do our shopping next.”

A/N: I'm happy this was my first request, had fun writing this!

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whimsyfinny · 9 months ago

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: aaaaahhhhhhhh sorry this one took ages. I suddenly had a bunch of personal things going on so I struggled to find the time. Also this chapter is wild, I’m so sorry for the complete train wreck that it is. I just keep writing without questioning it too much. But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

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Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 1

Morning soon rolled around; my alarm waking me from my deep dreamless sleep, eyes wearily blinking open as I stared blankly at the old ceiling. Turning off the repetitive beeping, I flung back the covers and climbed out of bed, pacing to the bathroom to freshen up before heading down to breakfast. I was in desperate need of a laundry day as I was down to my last couple of clean items: a cropped black tank top that said ‘Singers Salvage Yard’ across the front in old cracked and over washed lettering, paired with a short denim skirt with frayed edges. It was an a-line fit a long time ago, but as I got older and my figure changed it just got tighter and shorter. I don’t even know why I still have the thing. Paired with my boots and some comfy socks poking over the top of them, I looked like I should be getting paid to wash cars. I grimaced, knowing full well that Dean was going to make a comment.

Dean.

My mind raced back to last night with his parted lips and black lustful eyes - I couldn’t tell if he wanted to push me against a wall or be at my mercy, it was hard to say. Both sounded spectacular.

I strode into the central study room where the boys did all their research, looking for my flannel when I noticed a figure out of the corner of my eye. Instinct took over and I grabbed the nearest item to me - a lamp from the middle of the table - and held it up like a bat, ready to swing. The man flinched but held up his hands, an apologetic expression on his ruggedly handsome face.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” his voice was monotone despite his peaceful words.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“CAS!” Suddenly Deans voice rang through the open room and we both spun to see him standing where I had just walked in, Sam following behind.

“Dean I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle her, I wasn’t expecting you to have visitors,” this Cas guy spoke, his tone forever unchanging.

“This is (Y/n), Bobby’s niece. She’s staying with us for a while to help with research,” he explained, before turning to me and giving me a stern look, holding his hand out.

“(Y/n) give me the lamp.”

I did as he asked, placing the cool metal into his palm as he returned it to the table. We shared a look for a second and I was unsure of the meaning behind it - was he mad about me almost bludgeoning his friend? Was it because I was going to use a lamp of all things? Or was it about last night, and the fact I left him hanging? Who knows, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it later. Dean was about to turn away when the monotone voice of Cas spoke up.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), please forgive me for startling you. Although…” he paused, looking me up and down and then almost knowingly between myself and Dean, “I have personally been caught off guard here as well - I was unaware that Dean was involved with someone.”

“Excuse me?” I blinked up at Cas, getting ready to snatch that lamp back. I saw Dean pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter an ‘oh boy’ under his breath.

“You’re sexual endeavours with Dean,” Cas looked at me like I was the one missing something here. Clearly I am. Cas continued, “you’ve been intimate, have you not? This means that you are a couple from what I’ve learned.” Suddenly his eyes went wide and he looked straight at Dean.

“Or is this a pizza man situation?”

“CAS STOP TALKING,” Dean bellowed, embarrassment creeping across his face. I’m assuming he’s not used to that emotion as he was getting very frustrated. I couldn’t help but stand there in disbelief.

“How the actual FUCK do you know about me and Dean after saying that you weren’t aware of me even being here before you arrived?”

“He can smell it,” Dean said quietly, arms now crossed over his chest.

“What?”

“He can smell… me… on you,” as the words left his lips, his eyes locked with mine for a split second sending a jolt down my spine and hair prickling on my skin. I tore my eyes away from him and looked back at Cas.

“So wait, this weirdo can smell that I slept in one of Deans T-shirts last night?”

“You slept in one of his shirts?” Sam asked, piping up for the first time since this conversation started. Dean grinned like the cat that got the cream, embarrassment dissipating for a second.

“Yeah, she did.”

“Hmmm,” Cas mumbled, “No it’s not just that… It’s stronger, like there is part of Dean in her somehow. Or at least there was; not so much anymore.”

My eyes went as wide as the moon and my cheeks felt like they’d been set on fire.

“OH MY GOD,” I hid my face in my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me up. Whilst I tried to hide my entire existence, Dean cackled, leaving Sam confused.

“I don’t get it, what’s going on?” He asked, looking between all three of us. I couldn’t say a word through the white hot embarrassment, which left Dean to explain. He turned and looked Sam dead in the eye.

“You know how much I love pie, Sam,” he paused to see if Sam was catching on, which he wasn’t so Dean continued. “All sorts of pie. Like, uh, apple pie, cherry pie… cream pie…” Sam’s eyes shot open as wide as they could and he almost went as red as me.

“Nope!” He declared, promptly spinning on his heel and leaving. Cas looked confused.

“I smell no pie here.”

“Never mind, Cas,” Dean patted him on the shoulder before urging him to catch up with Sam who I’m assuming is in the kitchen by now. When it was just Dean and I left I peered at him through my fingers, my face still burning up.

“Dean what the fuck just happened?!”

He tried to suppress his laughter, explaining that Cas was in fact ‘Castiel’ and an Angel of the Lord, which explained his rigid behaviour and a weirdly strong set of senses.

“Why didn’t you butt in and explain who he was before everything got so embarrassing!”

“To be honest it was all pretty hilarious.”

“No it wasn’t! That was NOT an enjoyable moment!”

“Ok I’m sorry,” Dean paused, looking down at me with softer eyes, a slight smile still on his lips. He stepped closer and I pushed on his chest.

“You better be! You owe me big time for that one Winchester.”

He grinned as the furious redness on my face simmered down, just leaving a pink glow on my cheeks.

“Ok ok! Look let's just go and get some breakfast and put this behind us,” he put his hand on the small of my back, urging me towards the kitchen. I hummed, walking with him. There were a few moments of silence as we made our way down before he suddenly spoke up again.

“Did you know that he once smelt a bladder infection on a dead guy?”

Breakfast was uneventful. I was unable to make eye contact with Castiel, and it seemed that Sam was unable to make eye contact with me. Dean however was completely unphased. Once we were all finished and I’d cleared everything away I made my way to my room, grabbed my dirty clothes and then headed to the laundry room - today was going to be a practical one as I officially had nothing else to wear. Upon arriving I couldn’t help but grimace; a mountain of mens clothes covered in mud, blood and black goop sat in the middle of the floor by the washers.

“Gross…” I winced, the smell of dirt and iron filling my nose as I got closer and poked the pile with a pipe I found off to the side. I half expected the mass of clothes to sprout legs and walk off. The boys could probably find lore on the thing with how long its been sitting here. I huffed, scooping my hair into a high ponytail before shoving a bunch of my washing in a machine and turning it on before returning for face the Winchesters laundry. I can’t leave it here, that goes against everything clean and hygienic that I stand for. I could burn it? They would definitely complain about having to replace all the plaid shirts. Should I sort it or just hope for the best? Do I check the pockets? Knowing all the crap they carry around, I should definitely check the pockets before a load of bullets or a hex bag goes through one of the machines. I set to work, sorting out colours, blacks and whites - unable to differentiate between lights and darks at times - and search every pocket as I go. The amount of women’s phone numbers I find on napkins and receipts is ridiculous. I can’t help but feel a little deflated, knowing I’m probably just a name on Deans list. I put them to the side in a pile, keeping them separate from the numbers from Sam’s pockets. I load up another machine and turn it on, picking up the stacks of numbers and leaving the room.

I find the boys sitting in their usual places at the tables, surrounded by piles of books and files. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. I walk up to them and slide the collection of phone numbers over to them.

“I thought you might want to keep these,” I said, not understanding the tone in my own voice. They both took a few seconds to realise what it was that I was handing them and they both responded in an abashed manner, shooting each other a knowing look before staring at the accumulation of digits, not once making eye contact with me. Sam nodded a quick ‘thank you’ before I turned to leave, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him crumple them up and throw them away in a carrier bag on the floor next to him. At the same time, I caught Dean shoving his collection into his jacket pocket, which was hung on the back of his chair. I hastened my actions and turned away quicker, not wanting to have the knowledge that he was keeping them. A pang of something shot through my chest, and I couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, sadness, rage or self pity. Whatever it was, I needed to get the fuck away from Dean.

A few hours passed and I was still sorting laundry. My clothes were officially clean and dry and away in my room, however the task at hand was now the clothes belonging to the Winchester boys. I was a few minutes away from the final load of washing being dry, and I’d managed to arrange the clothing into piles of ‘definitely Sam’ and ‘definitely Dean’, with a ‘really not sure’ pile in the middle. The jeans were easy enough to tell apart and due to Deans T-shirt I wore to bed last night, I now knew that he wore a slightly larger shirt size than his younger brother. I guess he had bigger shoulders, despite Sam being taller. My train of thought snapped as I suddenly heard a door slam upstairs and a female voice call out. I recognised the voice immediately. I stopped everything I was doing and headed upstairs, my feet carrying me with purpose as I reached the study room; Sam and Dean also emerging from another corridor.

“Charlie!” Dean beamed at her, going to give her a hug before I caught up to them and shoved him out the way.

“Don’t you EVER abandon me again like that,” I said, embracing her tight. “I’m fucking annoyed at you…. But I’m glad you’re here. These guys are like wild animals.” She patted my hair softly before I stepped back and she had an apologetic look on her face.

“I knooowwww I’m sorry! But you were in such a slump I really had to do something. Plus these guys really needed whipping into shape,” she spoke the second half of her sentence quieter and we both peered at the boys, fully aware that they could hear every word we were saying.

“Anyway!” She exclaimed, moving away and plopping her backpack onto the nearest table, “I think I have a case for you guys…” her voice was excited but the way her expression changed when she looked from the boys to me was slightly concerning. Sam seemed to pick up on this too.

“That’s great, but what’s the catch?” He asked. Charlie bit her lip and looked between the boys and me again.

“It’s in a strip club and we will need (Y/n) as bait.”

“What?!” Both me and Sam spoke up at the same time, and all that Dean could muster was a huge grin.

“I’m gonna need more details than that Charlie,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Right, yes, I probably should have started with the other details. Anyway, I’m pretty sure this club is run by a bunch of vamps, using girls as bait to lure in unsuspecting men to feed on in the private rooms.” The brothers nodded, like they’d seen this sort of thing before. “Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve had a hunch about this place for a while and did some digging, and it turns out that just last night they advertised a new position available and they want someone that looks just like (Y/n). This is a perfect way to take them down from the inside.” Charlie finished speaking and scanned our faces for any sort of response. I shrugged.

“Sure I’m in.”

“No way, we aren’t putting you in the line of fire like that,” Sam turned to me, a look of worry already smothering his features.

“I agree with Sam, this will be more dangerous than the last case. We’ll find another way to take them down,” Dean said, before he added in an almost snide tone “plus I bet you can’t even lap dance. How would you ever fit in?”

I scoffed.

“Fuck you, I can lap dance just fine.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

“I don’t need to prove shit to you.”

“Guys,” Sam held his hands up, “not right now.”

I turned back to Charlie.

“Look I’m in, can you make sure that no one else gets hired?” She grins, opening her backpack and pulling out her tablet.

“Absolutely!”

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Up Next:

Chapter 8 part 2

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester enemies to lovers #eventual smut #enemies to lovers #supernatural smut #slow burn #supernatural #spn

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number1jeonginstan · 1 year ago

Note

Hii, I saw you take requests!! Hihi! Could you do a lee know drabble? Like reader fell first but he fell harder? They don’t know each other that well, see each other through friends sometimes and she has a huge crush and is a fan but is trying not to let it on and leave him be and then Idk just him maybe being like struck by fate and just completely starting to see reader differently, after just thinking of her as a nice girl he met a few weeks ago. Just soft Lee know please and some cute interactions and reader being completely caught off guard when he expresses interest… hahha idk I hope you like this💕🫶good luck with your paper!

Lonely St.

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I tried adding my own twist on it and I hope you like it. Also, you are so sweet for wishing me luck with my paper! (I'm like 1/3 way done and am trying to finish another third in a couple of hours after sleeping, but writing this gave me the break I needed.)

WC: 1.6k

Summary: Your friend introduces you to his best friend who just happens to be a pro idol (I love it when he calls himself that) Lee Know!

Warnings: None! It's just some cute fluff about Lee Know

Lee Know x afab!Reader (strangers to lovers)

You loved the coffee shop you lived above. The owner was a sweet old lady who absolutely adored you, bringing you cookies occasionally or you went to her shop just to talk for hours. It always warmed your heart talking to her, and in exchange for all the free coffee she would give you, you would help out on weekends. She would let you close up any time you wanted on the days you worked, knowing how much you loved snuggling up in your special corner of her shop, Lonely St., with the cafe’s cat.

It was an average weekend for you, it was 10 at night and you sat in your favorite spot next to the window reading a book. The fall air was freezing, causing you to bundle up in an oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants. You loved it, the smell of coffee still wafting through the air. Harold, the cafe’s cat, was snuggled up in your lap purring occasionally as you rubbed behind his ears. As you became more and more immersed in your book you were oblivious to the jingling of the door until someone coughed. You quickly got up, marked your page, and ran to the counter.

In entered your close friend, Heejin, with someone else. “Hi,” you ran up to him, embracing him in a hug. He always smelled like cinnamon for some reason and it brought you such comfort. You both became friends through work, since you both sat next to one another and he had a picture of a cat on his desk, you slowly became friends. “Hi y/n,” he said while pinching your cheeks, he always did this, acting like your older brother even though he was only 7 months older than you. “I brought my best friend from my hometown to check this place out, please tell me you guys still have pudding cups because I promised him you guys have some of the best in all of the area.”

You look up to see none other than Lee Know and to say you were a bit awestruck was an understatement. You turned to Heejin and whispered in his ear, “You are friends with the Lee Minho and you didn’t tell me, some friend you are!” and he just chuckled.

“Sorry, about that,” you said with an apologetic smile “My name is y/n, it’s very nice to meet you. I am a big fan of your guys’ music.” He just gave you a small smile. “Oh right,” you exclaimed “you are here for our famous pudding! The owner of the shop makes it fresh every morning. I am almost a hundred percent sure we have at least one left!” You ran over to the fridge looking inside to make sure that there was still the one you saw thirty minutes ago while you were cleaning.

“Here you are, free of charge since we were going to throw it out anyways,” you handed it to him. Heejin looked at you disappointed, “where is mine?” You just looked at him “Did you forget about what happened last time that warrants me from ever giving you free food?”

“How was I supposed to know that I can’t microwave tin-foil” he groaned “it doesn’t look like a metal.” You just glared at him as Minho chuckled in the background, sitting down and taking a scoop of the pudding. “This is really good, Heejin why haven’t you been bringing me this when you visit me?” he asked with a dead serious face “I thought you were supposed to be the loving boyfriend in this relationship” he pouted.

“Wow Heejin, cheating on me? What would Chip think, wait until he finds out his favorite person is no longer talking to his owner,” you said with a giggle. “HEY!” Heejin shouted “I’m my cat’s favorite person” Minho just rolled his eyes, “You know he loves me the most, you both keep lying to yourselves.” You just giggled as you and Heejin joined Minho at the table, sitting down.

You guys began talking, about everything and everything. How Heejin and you met, how Minho and he became friends, their adventures to Japan, and how it was being an idol. Before you knew it, it had become one in the morning. Harold was snuggled up beside Minho, and you were getting a bit tired, thinking about the long day ahead of you. “I guess we should get going Heejin,” Minho said, stretching a bit. “It was very nice meeting you y/n, I hope to see you again and next time buy some more pudding,” he said with the biggest grin in his life.

He was so cute you thought to yourself, but you shouldn’t think like this. He was an idol and you didn’t have a chance, it would be cool you thought to yourself. You said goodbye to them, closing up the shop and going back to your apartment, not knowing Heejin introducing you to Minho would shift your entire life.

It had been a couple of months since you first met Minho, at first you didn’t think much of it. You knew he was busy being one of the biggest idols in Korea and thought you would never see him again, but you were so wrong.

Every weekend he would come to the shop at 11 pm on the dot, he never missed a Saturday. It was your new regular pattern, instead of curling up with a book, you would talk to Minho about anything and everything under the sun for hours. Sometimes Heejin would be there, but sometimes he wouldn’t.

In the back of your mind, you would find yourself falling for Lee Know. The way he would talk with such adoration about his cats, or his wild stories about the other members of his group, you would always pay full attention. You loved the ways he would joke around, but you would often feel flustered at times when he talked to you.

You were already a big fan of his music and his personality prior to meeting him, but getting to know him amplified your feelings tenfold, you knew he wouldn’t look at you like that. You liked the comfort of having him as a friend too much to risk that relationship. That’s why you never acted on any of your emotions, no matter how infatuated you were with him.

You would feel your cheeks getting red whenever he would compliment your outfit that day or when he tried your new recipe and gave you feedback. You guys often talked about desserts, it always ended up with him promising you that he would bring you one of Felix’s famous brownies. “They are literally the best thing I have ever eaten, like genuinely, I will bring you one the next time he makes them.”

He ended up upholding that promise the second month you guys became friends. He looked you straight in the eyes while you took a bite. His eyes transfixed on you to see your reaction. “These are amazing, please ask him for the recipe for me,” you said with a grin and that was the first time he looked at you in a different light.

For Minho, it was hard to talk to people, to open up with people he didn’t grow up with especially because he did not know if they had his best interest at heart. He was scared that people only liked him for his status, and was scared to make new connections. When he first met you, he was scared. Heejin had told him that he made a new friend whom he wanted him to meet. “She’s so sweet, and the embodiment of a homebody, so don’t worry she won’t say anything”

He put himself in what he called “idol mode” straight-faced and straight to the point, thinking that he would just say Hi to you, get some pudding, and leave with Heejin. What he did not anticipate was loving your personality, how you could listen to him for hours while still engaging with him, unafraid to ask questions. You didn’t use anything against him either, at first he was scared that you would tell dispatch about his stories, but it was quite the opposite, you guys trusted each other.

You wouldn’t even bring up the stories he shared with you in front of Heejin, afraid that Minho had not already told Heejin. That’s what got him to keep coming back to you every weekend. He thought of you as one of his close friends, someone he could confide in, that was until a night in the middle of February. The weather was cool and he had just come over, taking off his scarf, and could not find you.

You rushed from the kitchen, flour on your face and apron, and that was when he knew he was whipped. He should have known it from the beginning, how you were slowly becoming his favorite person to confide in, but at that moment he knew he wanted more. He wanted to snuggle up next to you like you did with Harold. He wanted to bake with you and be there when you made the new recipes you showed him. He didn’t care about being an idol at that moment, walking towards you, and taking your face in his hand.

“What are you doing?” you asked cocking your head to the side a bit. “What I should have done months ago,” he replied placing a kiss on your lips.

#skz #stray kids #straykids x reader #skz x reader #skz lee know #lee know x reader #skz lee minho #lee minho #lee know #lee know smut #ju<3writes #ju <3 writes

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jtl-fics · 2 years ago

Text

Fluent Freshman - Part 08

FF knows that it might be possible to get a new flight and that the excuse of “Oh I found a flight so I could go spend the holiday with my Gran” would probably be unassailable even tot he great unknown of Andrew Minyard’s displeasure (FF has not yet figured out when the pin will drop and Andrew will come at him. The man is a stone wall but FF knows that Andrew doesn’t like him and that knowledge is confirmed every time Andrew and Captain Neil come into Nicky’s dorm and find FF there hanging out with Nicky and he sees both Andrew and Captain Neil frown at him.)

It’s just that it takes 7-10 business days for him to build up the nerve to have to call someone and deal with customer service and it would take more bravery than he currently has to press forward and actually get a flight that would WORK. He has a very limited window for when he can get to Washington. HIs Gran had called a friend to borrow a car to pick him up and that was only available during a 6 hour window on his arrival date.

He COULD get a taxi to his Gran’s house but… (“What if I get kidnapped, what if I get trafficked, how do I tell a normal taxi from a taxi that will take me to a place where I’ll wake up in an ice bath and down a kidney, what if the taxi driver doesn’t like me, what if the taxi driver wants to talk, I don’t have anything interesting to say! What if he says mean things about me in his native language on the phone and I have to pretend that I don’t know what he’s SAYING?)… he’d probably die during the hour long ride from the anxiety.

He tells his Gran and she promises to get a pie out to him A.S.A.P.

It almost makes him feel better until he remembers what he had agreed to when Andrew came at him at his WEAKEST MOMENT to get him to agree to spend an entire four days at the house in Columbia he has HEARD stories about.

FF, laying face down on the floor in Nicky’s dorm as Nicky pats his back: Nicky next time you see me about to agree to something that will result in me getting killed I NEED you to run up and just punch me in the jaw. I’m begging you. You know I’m a disaster.

Nicky thinking about how Andrew has gotten weirdly protective of FF since the whole step brother incident: I need you to understand that that will result in ME being killed which I am not a big fan of.

FF misunderstanding: My grandma’s not THAT strong Nicky. At most grandmothers from across the country will frown disapprovingly at you.

Nicky thinking about all the little old ladies who dote on FF for inexplicable reasons and how some of them know he’s FF’s friend and give Nicky the grandma experience he had lacked growing up: Somehow that’s even worse than what I was thinking :(

***

Nicky coming to check on FF hours later: Are…are you watching the Saw movies?

FF taking copious notes: I need to prepare myself to survive Columbia. Do you have a basement or will Andrew be moving me to a secondary location?

Nicky walking over and shutting off the TV: I think it’s time to go to bed champ.

FF: If I don’t sleep then Andrew can’t drag me to a secondary location. I bought a 20 pack of five hour energy because that is the most the CVS would sell me.

Nicky: They cut you off??

FF: Yeah the manager there said he’d sell it as a ‘favor’ to a ‘loyal customer’ but to destroy my receipt and I had to buy in cash in case I die from a heart attack so it’s not linked to them. So if I play my cards right I have around 4 days of energy right here. I have looked up all the foods that can make you sleepy and will be avoiding them to stack the deck.

Nicky guiding FF towards his bedroom: Y’know that includes turkey. Also those five hour energy shots will be murder on your tummy. :(

FF: I am willing to make some sacrifices so I can live to see 19 Nicky. Also I figure I can just drink an entire bottle of Pepto per bottle of five hour energy resulting in a net neutral situation in my stomach.

Nicky tucking FF into bed carefully: Or result in you going to the hospital for an overdose get some sleep Smith. Andrew is not planning on killing you.

FF already falling asleep because his stress energy is running out: You have no idea how much he dislikes me and how much pepto my body can handle but you’re right about going to sleep. I’ll need my strength to power through the reverse bear trap let alone a laser collar.

***

2 of Grandma Smith’s apple pies arrive in the early afternoon of Thanksgiving via a little old lady turning up at Abby’s house who is a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of Grandma Smith. The Foxes take a moment to marvel that somehow it is still warm despite apparently having been Granny expressed across the country despite the storm.

The delivering old lady pinches FF’s cheek and says not to be too disheartened and that his Grandma loves him and will see him for Christmas Break for SURE. She hands him a little note his Gran sent with the pies and he pointedly does not read it there.

This would make FF happy if he hadn’t been swearing up down left and right that he didn’t TALK to his grandma to Andrew whose eyes he can FEEL on him.

He manages a “THANKS.” In a perfectly normal tone. He has no memory that he already told Andrew and Captain Neil that he was spending the holiday with his grandma since he had blue screened at the offer last time and had rebooted in safe mode to power walk away from the situation.

“Your grandma is really nice.” Captain Neil says. “Those pies look good.”

FF, his anxiety momentarily overridden by a soul-deep love for his grandma, “My gran is the BEST and so are her pies.” And then he hears what he has said and walks back into Abby’s house to set out one pie for everyone else and goes and stress eats the second one on the living room couch after he promised Abby he’d clean up any mess.

He wonders if he’ll make it to Christmas Break as he sees Kevin Day staring at him in abject horror while Andrew stares straight at him.

Even with the attention on him he decides to check the note the other granny had given him from his Gran. It is in her native polish so he feels his shoulders relax since no one would be able to read it.

‘For my little Chicken, this isn’t your last meal like you texted me. I know you will be fine. I am thankful for you in my life every day.’

He tucks the note in his pocket and feels a little better.

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos

#Fluent Freshman AU #Andrew is a man who can't help but be impressed when someone can put away an entire pie #Kevin is a man who is planning an entire diet plan for FF because JFC he's not going to let there be 2 ANDREWS #Nicky is jonsing for a slice but Abby won't let him have one until after dinner #FF gets to eat the pie because he's so visibly distraught about not seeing his gran and Abby's heart aches for him #FF gets to eat a pie on her couch #As a treat #Besides FF is down like 4 pounds he needs the weight #AFTG #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #AFTG shitpost #AFTG Fic #My Fic #andreil #FF - Pt. 08

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vodika-vibes · 4 months ago

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Hello Vodika!

I don't know if you still accept requests, but I wanted to send you one request. Would you do a story with Commander Neyo and Commander Bacara having a girlfriend in common? S/O who has two of the most harsh and cold commanders in GAR as boyfriends 😅, but with her beloved they are not like that anymore. It can be fluff, smut or spicy. Your choice. I wish you a nice day/night!

Dreams Can Come True

Summary: Having a boyfriend who is also a Commander for the GAR is an exercise in bad decision-making. Especially if he happens to be a clone. You’re not sure what having two Clone Commanders as boyfriends says about you as a person, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care.

Pairing: Commander Neyo x F!Reader x Commander Bacara

Word Count: 1727

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things

A/N: So when you sent this, you probably weren't expecting family fluff or domestic bliss, but I had an idea, and just had to write it. I hope you like it!

Early mornings in your home are hectic.

To be fair, early mornings in your home would be hectic even if you didn’t have two boyfriends who seem to make it their morning mission to be as clingy as possible.

What with your six-year-old daughter that you have to bully and cajole to wake up and eat so you can get her off to school, and then the dogs need to be fed and watered and put outside, and then you need to make breakfast for yourself and your men.

And you need to do all of this before 8 am when you’re supposed to start working.

Honestly, at times, you wonder how your mother handled it.

“Mooooom!” Little Niko shouts from her bedroom at 7:30, “Bruno stole my shoe!”

“Stop yelling, Niko!” You call from the kitchen, where you’re in the process of making three lunches. A sandwich for Niko, and then leftovers from dinner last night for Neyo and Bacara. You’d make lunch for yourself at lunchtime.

A perk of working from home.

You hear little footsteps running down the hall, and Niko pokes her head into the kitchen. “Mom! My shoe!”

“You have other shoes, baby.”

“But I want that shoe. It matches the one on my bed.”

You sigh, “Alright. Let me finish the lunches and then I’ll help you get it from Bruno.”

“I have it, cyare.” Neyo says as he steps out of the bedroom you share with him and Bacara. He’s wearing casual clothes, and you glance at the calendar on the wall to check if he’s working today.

“Papa!” Niko runs over and hugs him tightly, giggling as he scoops her up and settles her on his hip, “Bruno took my shoe outside.” She says solemnly.

“Well, we better go find it.” Neyo replies before he drops a kiss to the top of her head, “Cyare, will you make me some caf?”

“Already brewing.” You reply as you gesture to the caf machine, which is just turning on.

He steps over to you and drops a kiss against your lips and when he pulls away he has the softest smile on his face, “You, my love, are an angel among women. Isn’t she Nik?”

“Yeah! Mom’s perfect!”

“All this for a little caf?” You joke, you wipe your hands on your apron and then kiss Niko’s forehead, before standing on your toes to kiss Neyo’s cheek, “Off you run. Better go find that shoe before he buries it and we need to buy another one.”

“Kriff,”

“Papa needs to put 5 credits in the bad language jar!” Niko declares.

“Yeah, papa.” You tease.

Neyo shoots you a look, though he looks amused. “After we find your shoe.” He sets Niko back on the ground, “Come on, Nik. Let’s see if we can hunt down the thieving miscreant.”

“Yeah! What’s a miscreant?” Niko asks as she follows Neyo out of the kitchen and out the back door.

You shake your head with a soft laugh and turn your attention back to the lunch prep. You almost don’t notice Bacara come out of the bedroom. Almost.

He shuffles into the kitchen, dressed in his sleep pants and nothing else, and immediately slides his arms around your waist from behind, burying his face in your neck.

“Good morning, handsome.”

He grunts a greeting, and you smother your laugh as you reach up to comb your fingers through his short curls. You feel him sigh and relax into you, though he’s careful to not lean too heavily on you.

“Did Niko wake you?”

“Mm,” He pulls his face away from your neck, “S’alright. She’s just a kid.”

“You can go back to bed, Cara.” You murmur, turning in his arms so you’re able to press your hand against his cheek, “You only got three hours of sleep.”

“And run the risk of not seeing Nik before she goes to school?” He asks, “Never.” He yawns widely, and drops his forehead to yours, “Don’t you have to work today?”

You shake your head, “We’re closed today. CEO is getting married, so the whole company is closed this week.”

“So I get you to myself all day?”

“Well, until you have to go to work this afternoon,” You correct with a small smile, “Master Mundi is expecting you this evening?”

“Mm-hmm,” He shifts so he’s able to rub his cheek against yours, “I think we’re getting deployed in the next couple of days.”

You sigh softly. They’re both going to be gone at the same time, again. Niko is going to be heartbroken. And so will you.

“I’m sorry, love.”

You shake your head, “I knew what I was getting into, Cara. No need to apologize. I’d like both you and Neyo home for dinner before you both leave though.”

He ghosts his lips against yours, “I’ll make it happen.”

“Good,” You trail your fingers against his jaw for a moment and then turn back to making lunch for everyone.

The backdoor slides open and Niko runs into the kitchen holding a chewed-up shoe, she looks very upset for half a second, and then forgets that she’s upset when she sees Bacara, “Daddy! You’re awake!”

“Did you think I wouldn’t see you off to school, Bug?” Bacara asks as he crouches to accept her hug, “What happened here?” He gestures to the shoe in her hand.

Niko pouts, “Bruno ate my shoe!”

“Well, that wasn’t very nice of him.”

“No! It wasn’t! And now I need a new outfit!”

“Well, we should hurry. You don’t want to miss the bus.” Bacara says, as he stands and ushers her towards her bedroom.

With Bacara no longer wrapped around you, Neyo slides into his place, and drops a kiss on the side of your neck, “Bruno’s fine. The shoe is fine too, it just needs to be washed.”

“You’re a godsend, Neyo.”

“I know,” He replies smugly.

You roll your eyes, “I changed my mind.”

“Too late.” He lightly nuzzles your neck, and then pulls back, “So, I was thinking.”

“Oh?”

“This weekend is supposed to be nice. How would you feel about us inviting some of the Command Batch over for a cookout?”

“Mm…which ones?”

“Fox, Cody, Wolffe. Fox.”

“You already said him.”

“Yeah, I know. He’s based on planet, so we, Bacara and I, really want you and Niko to get to know him.”

“Ah.”

He lightly pinches your waist, “We worry, cyare. It’s not like you have a massive support system.”

“You know, before I met you and Bacara, me and Niko got by just fine.”

“Well, the first time we met you spilled your tea and you burst into tears because you were so stressed, so excuse me for not believing you.” Neyo replies dryly.

“Rude.”

“But true.”

“I should make you make your own lunch.” You threaten, though he just laughs, kisses you, and releases you.

“Nik! You’re going to miss the bus!”

“I’m coming!” Niko runs out of her bedroom dressed in a totally different outfit, and her hair pulled into a neat tail, “I’m ready!”

You shove Niko’s lunch into her lunch box and hand it to Neyo, who shoves it into her backpack. He then tosses the backpack to Bacara, who holds it out for Niko, “Bug, don’t forget your bag.”

“Got it! Bye, love you!” Niko shouts as she grabs her backpack and runs out the front door.

Neyo moves to the kitchen window to keep an eye on her, and the other kids, at the bus stop, while Bacara moves back into the kitchen to pour three mugs of caf.

He sets a mug next to you and drops a lingering kiss against the corner of your lips, and then he holds a mug out to his brother. “Caf, vod.” He says as he sets the mug on the counter, close enough that Neyo could grab it if he wanted.

“Thanks,” Neyo grabs the mug and takes a sip, his gaze locked on the kids outside, “So, cyare, what are your plans for the day?”

You shrug, “You both need some more casual clothes, so I’m going shopping. Plus, if you want a cookout this weekend, I need to grab some stuff for that.”

“Cookout?” Bacara asks.

“I want to introduce her to Fox.”

“Makes sense. Fox is good people, a bit crazy.”

You laugh softly, “Well, according to your brothers, you are both cold and harsh men. So I’m not sure I believe you.”

“We are harsh,” Neyo says, turning his gaze away from the window as the kids climb on the bus, “Just not with you and Nik.”

“So we’re special,” You tease.

“Yes.” Bacara replies seriously, “You are.” He brushes the back of his fingers against your cheek, and there is something soft in his gaze. “If you like, we can return to the bedroom and we can show you just how special you are.”

Your face heats, and you hear Neyo laugh, “After everything we’ve done together,” He murmurs, and you jump when you feel his warm lips against the back of your neck, “You still get so flustered with us.”

“Yeah, well—” You don’t have an excuse, so you just trail off.

Neyo glances at Bacara, and Bacara grins at his brother.

“You know…we’ve been thinking,” Neyo murmurs against your skin.

“Yes?”

“Niko would be an amazing big sister…maybe it’s time we gave her a little sibling.” Bacara finishes.

Your face flames and you’re, genuinely, speechless.

Although, you wouldn’t be going through the pregnancy alone this time. And your boys seem to be doing their best to make sure that you have a support system this time around when they can’t be there.

So maybe a new pregnancy wouldn’t suck half as much as the last one.

“That’s not a no,” Bacara says, his voice gleeful.

“That look on her face says that she’s willing, and eager, vod.” Neyo agrees, his fingers sure as he tugs your apron off and gently herds you toward the bedroom.

You’re unable to help your giggle. This isn’t what you imagined your life would be like. But this is so much better. In fact, it’s like a dream come true. The best dream come true.

Besides, having another baby with curls and who looks like them would only make your family that much better, wouldn’t it?

#star wars #tcw #commander neyo x reader x commander bacara #neyo x reader x bacara #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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