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bunny-jpeg · 2 months ago

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lovingly dominant

capt. john price

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/30s), size difference/kink, dom/sub dynamic, bdsm au, virgin!reader, light bdsm, praise (kink)

a/n: in a surprising twist, bunny has written call of duty again!! expect more cod stuff into december when the f1 season is over and it stops eating my brain <3

john price considered himself a little old fashioned. he thought it was better to have his birdie of the week on her back and rut into her until they both finished. he had no need for whips, chains, collars, and whatever else the world of bdsm had to offer.

but after so many missions and so many years, the pollution of combat bled into his sexual desires. he craved for control, near domination of his birdie. yes, they looked cute on their backs and their soft noises. but it looked far more appealing to keep her blindfolded, second guessing what was being done to her while price's filthy words spilled across her brain like wine on a white carpet. tainting her. tainting you.

most dominants loved a trained submissive. loved that they knew the ins and outs of the dynamic, tinkering to their liking. price on the other hand had a thing for over eager virgins. ones who got all their bdsm know-how from horribly written fan fiction. he liked to teach and guide, he liked to shape his submissive into the perfect image of what could be.

and when he met you, oh, well something else came up. an unwavering possessive need. price tried to not get possessive, this was all just a little game for sexual pleasure. but when he found out his little trainee worked at a flower shop, it was all over for him. it was only doubled down when you had your first meeting at a coffee shop and you got the most delicious looking slice of strawberry shortcake.

the cream on the corner of your mouth almost made john price lose resolve. instead he covered up with a cough before you asked, "do you want some, mister price." and who was john price to deny such a lovely girl her offer. you even fed it to him, a glimmer in your eye and gentle smile.

"it's lovely, baby girl." he said before he wiped a bit of the cream off his beard which made you giggle. that giggle seared into his brain and he knew that you weren't getting with any other man.

you met at his flat a few weeks later, and you were eager. price liked that. sex was only half as fun when the person he was fucking was almost having a good time. you came over in a big sweatshirt and jeans that were a little baggy, something that covered up. it made price curious as to what was hiding underneath.

"look beautiful, birdie." he said as he guided you inside and you got your sneakers off. you looked over at him to help you through the flat. you held onto him a little nervous, the only familiar thing in the place. price held you by the middle and let you press your face up against his strong chest.

he was in a flannel with a white undershirt and jeans. you could see the gold chain around his throat and the heavy chest hair. you had seen him naked from photos shared and he had seen you naked, but to feel it up close left a shiver of excitement through you. he leaned down and kissed you on the top of your head as he led you to the bedroom.

he said, "afterwards, i'll make ya some dinner. not the best chef, but, i can cook ya somethin' to replenish the energy you spent fucking me." he then ruffled your hair, which made your heart leap and he got you onto the bed.

you nodded meekly, you looked so small. so innocent. a girl like you should be on dated with finance guys or even the artsy kind. not a weathered, older military man like him. but even things in smaller packages can be surprising, just like when you took off your clothes and revealed a matching set of bra and panties. a soft grey colour with pastel yellow accents. it made price have to adjust himself in his jeans.

"ah, pretty girl got a surprise for me. how sweet?"

you nodded, "i wanted to make tonight special. good luck for a long... dynamic between us. so, you don't get rid of me if i suck." and soon you were in price's embrace while you still sat on the bed. your cheek pressed hard against his soft but firm middle.

he petted your head a little and said, "ah, don't worry, petal. even if you do bad tonight, i got every intention of trainin' ya. make you the perfect girl." the words spoken hit right to your core and when he pulled away long enough to strip down, you felt your eyes go wide for a moment.

a photo couldn't capture every inch of john price's skin. the scars, the tattoos, the hair, the muscle, the fat. he was like a big brown bear and it made you soaked. you shifted a little in your spot on the bed and rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. it was surprising that you were still a virgin, but you always chickened out. now as an adult, you wanted to just get it over with. but, you wanted to have fun. and why not have fun with a well experienced dom who wouldn't half-ass your first time. it didn't hurt that he had the kind of looks that would make any man with half a brain jealous.

"i hope i meet expectations." he chuckled as he put his hands on his hips. his cock stood at full attention and you swallowed. there was something so masculine about him, but not in a toxic way. he played with your hair once more before he patted your cheek, "no need to gawk, petal. i'm not goin' anywhere." and you swallowed. he chuckled before he got into bed with you and slowly unwrapped you of your lingerie like delicate christmas paper.

he hadn't been this excited to upwrap something since he got the toy firetruck as a kid. but in total fairness, you were hotter than any fire red truck. his hands grazed across your body with total tenderness and his hungry blue eyes gazed the skin.

the stretch marks, the moles, your own scarring. you were beautiful in ways that price couldn't describe. to compare you to something would be unfair to the thing being compared to your beauty. he took you by the wrist and kissed the center of it.

"this is a promise, petal. for as long as you keep me as your dominant and you my submissive, i with cherish you, adore you, and most of all. make sure that you cum over and over again." before he kissed you on the lips and got you onto your back. he admired you, "usually i like to take pretty things on their hands and knees. but, tonight's gotta be special, right, doll?"

you nodded.

he tapped your nose and said, "ah, ah, ah. that won't cut it. the words are 'yes, sir', got it? would hate to bruise that little behind during our first time."

you found your voice and said, "yes, sir." and was met with a rough pat on the cheek before price pulled away to rest on his knees to fuck you with just right. you felt heat course through your body as you took in the sight of him. burly, large from top to bottom.

course dark hair on his body, a little heft in his middle (but who didn't love that), a sparkle in his blue eyes, and hands large enough to break things between the digits. he admired you in return and said softly, "pretty little petal, yeah? ah, who let ya be so beautiful?" he chuckled as he rubbed his cock up against your slick sex, "i got so much to teach ya. how to tie ya up, how to gag ya properly. mmm, we'll have so much fun." he then pulled away to grab a condom from the nightstand. he held up the silver foil to you and said, "rule one, play safe or don't play at all."

you nodded and remembered to reply, "yes, sir."

price gave you a smile that lit you up and said, "good girl." then quickly got the condom on. he admired your soaked sex for a moment longer, "she achin' for me, huh? cute." then slowly, almost agonizingly, he inched into you and felt the spread of warmth through his body.

heaven was created with your pussy in mind. price was never a quick finisher, but he almost finished inside of you when he managed to get all of himself inside of you. he kept eyes and ears open, the type of examining done in his line of work, to make sure that you weren't in too much pain.

"ya alright?"

you nodded and swallowed.

price added, "baby girl. words." and then nodded his head when you replied that everything was okay, he nodded and said, "roger that." which made you pussy clench. a smile spread across price's face as he leaned forward. he captured your hands in his and pressed them to the bed under you. he chuckled lowly, "ah, someone likes a military man? a man in uniform gets ya goin'?" he kissed your pulse point, "ah, too cute, petal. i guess seeing that on my description didn't scare ya off." he rocked against you, "know it's a crime to mess up a man's uniform."

you swallowed, "sir. fuck." and felt the strike of heat through your body. you had to admit, you had seen a few photos of him in uniform. the beret, boots and all. and it made something turn in your stomach. only added an appeal to him that made you hot.

price replied, "i guess it worked out. because i like cute little civilians who are more than eager to make me feel good. doin' your civic duty makin' me cum, baby girl." these was a tension in his voice that made you heart hammer and your throat feel tight. the bed squeaked a little under the both of you as he continued his movements. he knew he was going to have an amazing time with you.

you whined, "please, sir."

"tell me. tell me what ya like about it? what gets my baby girl goin'? i gotta know, because maybe i can get somethin' together that'll rock your world." his words were hot and your cunt fluttered around his achy, hard cock. for a moment he was uncertain if you were actually a virgin, you took him so well.

you moaned when you felt a spark of pleasure in your core, your entire life had just been your hands and an assortment of toys. but to have price work your body beautifully was something else. you replied sweetly, "i... i want to thigh ride you in uniform." you felt a flush of embarrassment.

he chuckled, "oh that would be quite the sight, huh?" he continued to move against you beautifully, "i bet that i could make ya cum just from my thighs. rub your cunt all over it, messin' up the fabric. higher-ups will be wonderin' about the pussy stains all over the fabric. maybe if i'm lucky i'll get some of your wetness in my beard. let 'em smell you on me." and well, that excited you deeply.

you arched your back a little bit, but price kept you pinned perfectly under him. you tightened your thighs around him and he continued to work your body. it wasn't rough sex, but it also wasn't boringly soft either. he worked you at a steady pace, like a man with immense stamina. he eyed the bounce of your breasts and he moved against you.

he licked his lips at the sight of you, "baby girl." he purred, "you're a dirty girl. but don't worry." he soon held onto your wrists instead of your hands, a further act of domination, "i like 'em dirty. i like girls i can sink my teeth into. soon enough you won't be able to cum unless it's my fingers, tongue or cock in you. ya got the kind of soft skin that would bruise perfectly. but be careful, petal, i can be quite mean with a paddle." and it was met with a heavy moan. music to his ears.

you had never been spoken to like this before, but it excited you. you wanted to be price's dirty girl any day of the week. you felt excitement cross over you as he picked up the pace. the two of you fucked heavily and it left a taste of want in your mouth. this was better than anything you hoped for. it wasn't just that price checked boxes on a superficial level, he knew exactly how to make you squirm and moan. heavy noises came from your mouth as he worked your achy cunt, you felt amazing.

"ya like knowin' that i'm your first. big, scary captain makin' a mess of the sweetest cunt in the world. knowin' in a way, i got ya for life." he licked his lips. he liked that you were pure in that way, call him old fashioned. but knowing that he got to have you first was sort of like getting the first slice of cake at a party. something he wished to sweetly devour. and with you it was with heavy thrusts and filthy words. taint you to his liking.

you whined as you clenched your fists, you tensed up and he loved the feeling. he could almost read your mind with how sweet you felt. he could nearly feel your heartbeat as he fucked you. he loved the sight of you, you looked damn near perfect under him. you said between heavy pants, "please, sir. fuck, please!"

"feel good, petal? like how i take you." he moved against you further and it left him feeling the anticipation for climax. he continued to fuck your sweet body, working every last centimeter of warm skin, "remember, ya gotta ask me to cum."

his movements were overwhelming, his pace left you feeling breathless. and in your first lesson of intimacy, you croaked out, "can i cum, sir? please, i need to cum."

and price could be a giving man. he looked down at you, haze in those blue eyes as he said, "of course, baby girl. cum for me, cum for your captain." and swore under his breath as you beautifully came apart for him. he held onto your wrists tighter and groaned. it paired nicely with your sweet little moans.

"sir! fuck!" you gasped as you clenched around him. you finished and it only prompted him to move faster while you laid in such a blissed out state. no one had made you finish like that, not even your own nimble digits.

but price was just that good.

the bed creaked further and the headboard hit against the beige wall of the bedroom. he fucked you faster and made sure to cram every inch inside of you. with a few more heavy strokes, he finished into of you with a heavy groan. he fucked you through his climax before he slowed to a stop.

he wiped the sweat from his forehead and exhaled deeply, "beauty, beauty. where has the world been hidin' ya from me." he chuckled as he kissed you on the lips. you melted against him and moaned.

when he pulled out, he got up with a creak in his hip to throw out the condom before he was back in bed with you. you were both naked under the covers as price traced your form with his calloused fingers. the roughness on your soft skin made you shiver.

"how about it, lovie." he said in that low, gruff tone of his. his hand grazed across your side and behind, "how about i invite the boys over and their little birdies and we can have a little playdate. introduce you to the group."

you swallowed, "play... date?"

price pulled you closer. he held onto you the way someone would hold a stuffed animal. he smiled at you, "don't worry, petal. no one's gettin' their hands on ya. not while i'm still breathin'." his voice was tinged with a possessiveness. you nodded in response and he added, "besides, i know i'll make the boys nice and jealous with you." he chuckled, "my beautiful baby girl." then kissed you on the lips.

you could only imagine what would happen at a playdate with price's friends and their submissives. it also didn't help that it made you a little excited as well. <3

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sugurusyndrome · 6 months ago

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cw/tags: househusband!nanami, fluff, smut, fem!reader

— oh househusband!nanami my love…

househusband!nanami initially resisted the idea of being a stay at home husband when you first proposed it. aghast, he might even say. he couldn’t fathom the possibility of being dependent upon your income. not that his masculinity was threatened or anything of the sort. you were the one supposed to be spoiled while he does the hard work.

your husband was traditional in a quite endearing sense. bless his giant heart and his even bigger cock.

“darling, i want to do this. for us,” you had gently insisted. reaching forward, you took off his spectacles and brushed a hand around his cheek. “you deserve to be pampered, too.”

househusband!nanami was exhausted from the long hours over many years and he knew his wife was sorely aware of that fact. he leaned into your touch, hazel eyes slipping shut.

“alright, my love.”

it took some adjusting to his new role during the first few days. when your alarm rang, you swiftly silenced it so he wouldn’t wake up. looking over your shoulder, you find his side of the bed empty.

househusband!nanami had gotten dressed as usual before remembering he didn’t need to work anymore. instead of going back to bed, he whipped up a breakfast feast fit for a queen. he also sent you off to your big-shot job with a kiss and your lunch.

soon enough, this became a routine. a hearty breakfast followed by a “see you later” kiss—kento didn’t like saying goodbye, it’s always “see you later.” househusband!nanami wanted to bring a smile to your hectic days so he stuck an adorable note in his neat handwriting squarely on your lunchbox. he never ran out of words to express his love for you.

househusband!nanami was finally able to tackle the books that had accumulated on his side of the bedroom but never had the chance to read. you could only imagine how he looked like, all cozy. in the nook of the living room where the sun shone best, he had one leg tucked under his body with his glasses perched on his sharp nose.

when he was not devouring words, househusband!nanami was taking himself on a stroll in the neighbourhood with a cup of a pick-me-up coffee. once, he passed a park and sat at a bench watching the mothers playing with their children with a soft smile. however, he quickly walked away because he realized his presence as a sole man just lingering at the edge of the park might be a cause of concern for the mothers. you giggled later over dinner when he recounted his thoughts to you. what a thoughtful man you married.

you wanted to give him 10 children.

if not books or a stroll in the neighbourhood, househusband!nanami was doing his duty ever so happily between your legs.

"k-ken..." you whimpered, back arching gracefully while your nails scraped his undercut in a way that made him growl into your pussy. he knew how much you loved the vibrations as much as he went crazy for your nails on his scalp. "missed this pussy today....mmm...” he captured your clit in a wet, hungry kiss. “take tomorrow off for me, sweetheart.”

this part of the night quickly cemented its spot as his favourite. to absolutely neither of your surprises.

househusband!nanami became fast friends with the owners of your favourite bakery. they already knew him from his frequent visits after his long shifts to pick up something sweet for his wife but the more he hung out there, the closer he got with the bakers. you were particularly fond of the strawberry shortcake from there and what did he do? oh yes, he learned how to make it. everything was from scratch down to the syrup. by the end of it he was sticky but super excited to surprise you with it for your birthday.

"honey, those better be happy tears," he chuckled, drawing you into a tender hug. either that, or the cake turned out to be a disaster.

"of course they are, kento!" you blubbered in his chest. strawberry syrup and whipped cream was smeared around your mouth, mixing with your tears.

oh, how you adored this man to his bare bones. and he devotedly breathed in the very air you exhaled.

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blockedbykei · 7 months ago

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𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 !!

— haikyuu men as your boyfriend (ft. tsukki, tobio, hinata, kuroo, osamu, oikawa, & ushijima)

— a/n: in the midst of writing another fic (spoiler alert: it's kageyama), i've decided to rest my brain and give you an insight as to how the haikyuu men will be your boyfriend lol (lets pretend i didn't just insert my boyfriend's attitude in some of these dudes bc he is as sassy as tsukki and as obsessed with vball as kageyama)

tsukishima kei

- the type of boyfriend to close his fist when you try to hold his hand

- pretends he doesn't know you when you do something embarrassing

- greets you like he's annoyed but he actually isn't, he'll give your forehead a kiss after

- he's very supportive of your clothing, wear a bra and an underwear wherever you go– he wouldn't care. but when he senses the crowd isn't safe, he would constantly remind you to put a hand on your chest when you bend, or put a hand on your knee when you sig

- he gets flustered easily when you giggle whenever you see him use his phone without glasses and look like this -.-

- everyone says he's shy when it comes to pda. and that is so true. he would hold your hand but most of the time, you wrap your hand around his fucking pinky. he would occasionally wrap an arm around your shoulders, or you'd wrap your hands around his arm. kisses in public are chastised into cheeks or temples

- whenever you fight and you go to your room to sulk alone, he walks in without knocking, scooches on the bed beside you, and spoons you. it hurts him to see you cry even if you don't see it in his face, and he'll hold you in silence until you've gathered the courage to face him and talk about it

- biggest gift giver EVER

- he would literally get you anything that you want. you send him a pic of a dress and tell him you want it? he'll buy it for you even if you don't tell him to

- remembers every date of a special occasion, like first kiss, when you said yes to being his boyfriend, all that stuff

- when you're together for a long time, you don't talk that much yet you do your hobbies together. not because nothing's new and fun anymore, but because you've gotten so used to each other that the silence between you was comforting and filled with so much love.

- when you do talk though, you'd think he wouldn't indulge in whatever topic you ensue, but he would actually talk to you like it is the hottest tea in the century

- is a small spoon when he's so needy

- because of his love for strawberry shortcake, he actually knows how to bake it. you have it every weekend. and if he isn't so busy, you'd have it everyday.

- he taught you how to bake it *swoons*

- he smells like strawberries because he uses your perfumes all the time

kageyama tobio

- he smells the ball from far away

- like when you're both on a date or just hanging out outside, the minute he hears that exact sound of a volleyball bouncing on the ground, he will snap his head towards that direction

- LIKE A DOG

- i hc that he knows how to play the piano, so he has one in his room. when you hang out, you lay on the bed and he plays whatever song that comes into his mind

- he's so awkward even if you guys have been together for a long time

- on the court he's all badass but he's actually a loser LMAO

- biggest loser ever but he's so cute though

- like when he asked you out on a date, he was bowing and yelling "PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME" like he's so desperate and pathetic it's so adorable

- he's a good bf tho even if sometimes he's too preoccupied with volleyball. it's you above everything else so if you called him in the middle of practice, best believe he's running to you in a minute

- he's such a heavy sleeper. he sleeps with his eyes open sometimes and it creeps you out to wake up in the middle of the night with him staring at you with half lidded eyes

- when you fight he sometimes cries and will ask u to hold him

- doesn't know social cues sometimes you feel like you're mothering him but in a good way

- awkward kisser too sometimes he forgets to close his eyes

- when he takes a shit, it's always hard. like his poop is hard, so you hear him grunting in the bathroom

- he smells like metal sometimes but when he's at home he smells like markers its kind of addicting

hinata shoyo

- fucking TONE DEAF

- sucks at cooking, prefers your food over anyone else's

- loves cuddling he's such a tiny clingy baby you just want to eat him up and keep him in your stomach

- when you're sad, he goes out of his way to make you smile, even if it includes him hetting hurt

- compliments you ALL the time like he's all "wow baby you're so good at this and that you're so amazing please marry me"

- sticks to your side at every social gathering and will hold your hand the whole time

- he will feel like a literal baby if you're taller than him, and he LOVES taller women i so believe that

- when a match lasts for more than 3 sets, hinata is extremely tired and will pass out the minute he steps foot into your home

- he smells really good, like his skin smells amazing

- will do skincare with u bc he's sometimes as overdramatic as you when he sees red bumps on his face

- loves to give and receive a massage

- he's so chronically online too bc he's influenced by kenma so he's always up to date with all the trends and music. but he's also incredibly stupid with technology

- his phone always overheats

- twitches randomly in his sleep and sometimes he's so messy in bed he ends up pushing you off

- loves to take baths with you and let you play with his hair hehe

- the softest boy ever too like you would both always have a kitten staying in your home until someone can foster or adopt them because there's always a lot of sick strays outside of your home

- has a sweet tooth. his favorite is cotton candy

kuroo tetsuro

- he's actually emo sometimes

- sometimes because not only with his stupid bangs, but because when you're not giving him attention, he will play loud music that will get your attention, sit on the couch, and cross his arms and pout until you look at him

- he's one of those people that will get mad when you touch his hair

- smells like soap

- he treats you like a princess though like when he brings you to his parties he will bring you EVERYWHERE

- like a bodyguard too, will bring all your stuff even if they're heavier than his gym bag

- you're the one to always patch things between him and kenma when they fight because they're like literal children

- asks for your help to get kenma to eat when he plays too much

- a whiny bitch too like he's the type of person that's actually so clean so when he encounters a room that's dirty or a bathroom he thinks is too wet or has too much grime in the tiles, he will gag and pinch his nose (same goes for tsukishima)

- has a good sense in fashion, he dresses you A LOT

- puts your bag on your shoulder and scolds you like a mom

- scared of cockroaches

- literally would climb up a wall and sob when he sees one

- and he's such a good captain too like sometimes you'd see him talking to his teammates and give them advice outside of volleyball. he's their big brother

- he's your study buddy all the time. when he's not too preoccupied with volleyball, you're both studying together

- he cherishes your accomplishments and is always present at your events

- he's close with your friends that sometimes you see him playfully hump your boy-space-friends and moan like he's riding them

- used to be kenma's discord kitten too

- one time, in his drunken state, he showed you a picture of him and kenma in maid outfits during one of kenma's gaming streams, because they were both drunk and in lock down

- whenever you see the matches or hinata, tsukki, or kageyama, kuroo feels proud and tears up at how much they've grown

- loves kids. wants to plant a baby in you.

miya osamu

- when you wake him up in the middle of the night and ask for food, he WILL cook for you

- smells like fried chicken but its alright it smells good either way

- when you go to work, he always packs your lunch

- when you fight, he knows just what to cook to cheer you up

- he loves food so much that you can't remember the last time you haven't eaten, because he ALWAYS feeds you

- when he cooks at home, he wears a pretty pink apron just for you

- listens to music when he cooks, and even when he showers too

- when you have a big social event, he'll volunteer to give a portion of food in your event or actually cater for them

- when he cooks something that you don't end up liking, he is DISTRAUGHT; will do anything for you to like it again because there's no way that he can't feed you something delicious

- sometimes, when atsumu comes over, they both play volleyball INSIDE the house and atsumu sometimes gets too much, but before you could scold him, osamu's already on his ass

- as aforementioned, always expect midnight snacks

- he's like that dude on tiktok who can make everything out of chocolate, except his is onigri. or, well, he can shape anything made out of rice

- one time, on your anniversary, you woke up to a rice shaped like a life-sized teddy bear and it was actually so cool

- you have your own spot in his shop

- and he actually let you design the blueprint for his shop because he wants it to be yours too :(

oikawa tooru

- sometimes you don't know if he's your boyfriend or an opponent at a beauty contest

- he values skincare more than you do like he's buying face masks and exfoliators and everything and you caught him one time sleeping in one of those peel off mask things

- and he cries when you take off those peel off masks

- smells like rich perfume that hurts your nose

- but oikawa takes volleyball seriously. when he lost to karasuno, you caught him sobbing in his bed when you came to check up on him, and he let you hold him until he fell asleep

- that was also when he fell in love with you lol

- before you guys dated, you two were so close that tne girls actually stopped approaching him one time because they thought you were officially his girlfriend after he held your hand during a field trip to the museum because you almost got lost

- sometimes oikawa doesn't know who he's more scared of: you or iwaizume? bc both of you are always on his ass making fun of him and scolding him

- but he cherishes you so much though like he's treating you like his certified baby girl all the time— you're getting fucking princess treatment every single day. you don't remember the feeling of a bag in your hand because he's always CARRYING it

- oikawa is proud to take up the role as your assistant

- and he's also just as sassy as you are

- he's also rich so like you're always on adventures and on dates outside. but sometimes he likes to stay at home and cook for you even if it tastes like shit

- a jealous bitch

- one time a guy asked you for directions and oikawa told him to "turn right and then you'll see a mirror that tells you you're a piece of shit"

- you scold him after that. he doesn't care

ushijima wakatoshi

- bad at social cues

- he's like an old man and you're his social media manager bc why is he texting everyone through EMAIL when sms exists already

- there was that time when he sent you a nude and it went "was thinking of you. I miss you — Ushijima Wakatoshi" AND LIKE??

- he's literally "i'm so happy for you" o_o

- and he is though its just that he's always so dazed sometimes you think he's a robot

- he's a living baby though like he's one to be honest about something that he doesn't realize what he says and you feel embarrassed for him too so you're just kind of like sweetly telling him that it's not nice to say that someone smells like cigarettes or that their breath stinks

- one time, when you and tendou surprise him, you're both caught off guard when he actually jumps– but the thing is that he accidentally hit you with his arm due to his reflexes and you swear you got a concussion after that

- he LOVES CUDDLES and he loves sniffing you and sometimes hes a sub

- smells like rich cologne that actually smells good

- takes you with him everywhere and he has to be with you all the time or else he'll cry his ass out

- decides to be matrilocal too and take your last name when you get married bc he just loves you so much

- before you guys got together, he was always so stoic and silent. and he's so silent that sometimes he suddenly appears in front of you and talks to you like he didn't just almost make you shit your pants

- he also doesnt switch out his phone so when you're in the year 2024, he still has an iphone 7 that's too big for his hand

- his bff is tendou so he's always at your home too and they're watching a bunch of animes and you're just sitting between wakatoshi's legs like you're his stuffed animal

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biteyoubiteme · 1 month ago

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lemon cake

lemon drop!soobin x angel cake!reader

‧₊˚ ⋅ synopsis In a world where everything is sugary and sweet, it is always fun to throw in a little twist. Quiet and tired Lemon Drop finds himself struggling to keep up with the day to day of single-parent life. Knocking on Angel Cake's door, begging for more than just help, might take care of two of his problems. ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ warnings 🔞!!! fairytale au, lemon drop!soobin, angel cake fem!reader, slight spit kink, spit and cum as flavored aphrodisiacs, not really but chubby reader implied bc angel cakes body is soft and described as cake (skin indents and takes a few seconds to bounce back), mentions of masturbation (f! and m!), hand job, oral (m!rec), virginity loss, breeding kink, corruption kink, biting, cumplay/eating/snowballing, no protection, creampie, prob forgot some sorry

⊹₊ ݁ . wc: 8.9k . ݁₊ ⊹

၄၃ ⸝⸝⸝ now playing: new emotion- the aces an: ive never been so happy to post a fic before! this was so very fun to work on with my moots. im honored to have worked alongside some absolutely incredible writers- actually wild that you let me in on this when you guys are just so amazing im a little dazed lol. and it was so fun to read everyones fics early and go back and forth on little ideas we found would benefit each others works. this was one of the best things to do and im so thankful for mae and her mind,,go read everyone elses fics pls pls pls they are so so good. anyways love my friends <333 [m.list] [strawberry shortcake m.list]

Angel Cake loved a routine. Most things could be broken down into a neat list of checkpoints, a simple to-do list set up like the recipe for a good day. She would get to the store early, prep the tables, and make sure all the clothes were neat enough for when she opened the door. Sometimes a new shipment would come in and she would take her time checking off every box as she added the new items to her inventory. She loved folding all the shirts up, stacking them, lining them all so neatly, and keeping them color-organized.

It wasn't until an hour later that the store officially opened for the day, the sweet buttery scent from the town's shops wafting in through the doors. Angel Cake would sit behind the register looking through catalogs to pick out new things to order, helping customers when they filtered in and lulled around the shop admiring her cute displays. Almost an hour after opening is when her favorite customer arrived. “Strawberry!”

She loved to shop, everything she wore was hand-selected by Angel, perfectly picked out from the catalog with her in mind. Even the pale blue shirt worn by Kai was bought within these four walls. The sweet blueberry boy gave a shy wave, apple dumpling, strawberry’s little sister, running right past the two of them to her favorite section in the store.

“I brought you your share from the bake sale,” the cream-colored box carefully held in hand. It was one of the small things Angel looked forward to, the soft cake and cream, the first bite of sweetness. “They took a little longer than expected to make but they turned out so good,”

Kai flushed a deep shade of blue, the color only highlighted by the blue strands of his hair. Even Strawberry was blushing, her eyes tacking onto apple dumpling to avoid looking at angel cakes questioning glance. “Berry why don't you help Dumpling pick out a new school dress, I see angels gotten some new ones in,”

It was all it took for Kai to follow after the giggling child, leaving Angel and Strawberry alone. “You won't believe the weekend I've had,”

“Was it beomgyu? I hear he went to the market for the first time in a month and acted so bitter over Cherry’s jam,”

“No no nothing like that, I just- berry and I-” If strawberry could get any more color to shade her cheeks she would, her flush traveling to her ears, “We kind of…”

“You kind of what?” Angel Cake had known for years that Blueberry had a crush on Strawberry. They spent most of their time together, strawberry baking and blueberry strumming his guitar. It wasn't news to Angel that either of them had fallen into a relationship without much effort.

“We kissed and then it wasn't kissing it was- well-” she was struggling to find the right words, the images of the night before flashing in her eyes as she stumbled through the words. “It was so much more than kissing, the both of us were just insatiable and he just- he tasted so good,”

“Tasted? Like when you kissed?” Angel tilted her head as if that would tip the right information into the right spot for her to understand. Tasting someone did not necessarily sound all too fun, she could picture the underwhelming flavor of blueberries and didn't find it appealing at all. Angel was never really a fan of how plain they could be, although she would never confess that to Strawberry who couldn't stop herself from remembering the flavor as if it was spilling right back onto her tongue.

“Not exactly-” but it was all Strawberry could say before the two of you turned to the sound of apple dumping giving a shout.

“Meringue!” the little blonde, dimpled-cheeked child, giggling as she ran to meet her friend, exclaiming just as loud, “Dumpling!”

Everyone in all of Strawberry Land knew exactly how close the two little girls were. Spending hours joined at the hip, playing games, singing songs, and laughing enough to fill the sweetest of souls with the happiness shared between the two of them. Most times lemon meringue would find herself sprawled out on the living room floor, coloring with apple dumpling while angel cake and strawberry tested recipes in the kitchen. The two little girls being the best test testers, never afraid to say when they didn't like something.

Most times meringue was over because Blueberry was the perfect babysitter, teaching the girls how to play the guitar, and finding fun ways to keep them entertained. He kept them busy while Lemon Drop, meringue’s dad, was off at the local college teaching. Lemon drop soobin was always a bit bitter, the slight tinge to his personality always brought forward with his obvious sleepiness. His under eyes slightly bruised from the late hours he spent bent over books, grading papers, and chasing after his little sweet tart. Rumpled shirt half untucked from his pants, butter blonde hair mussed, and glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Angel Cake could feel her stomach flutter at the sight, he looked unbelievably warm, the kind of person you wanted to slip into and cuddle up. His lazy blinking eyes tracked around the sweet cream shop, deeply breathing in the sugary air.

Soobin wanted a nap, the warmth of the shop hugging him the second he breached the doorway. It was the favorite shop on the strip, the scent pulling him in amongst the rest of the fruity temptations. Buttery warmth hinted with vanilla cream beckoned him in that direction every time. It was easy to get lost in thought and follow his footsteps right to your door without realizing it when he followed his instincts. With an excuse to step inside, he could settle his craving without shyly backing away from the doorway, tinted pink from the recurring embarrassment of finding the shop irresistible. It was okay when Meringue was with him, but when he was alone, gazing through the sugar glass window to see angel cake folding or hanging clothes, it was a little more awkward.

He wasn't particularly known as the fondest resident in strawberryland. He was known to fight back, the sting of his arguments leaving people with a bitter impression of him. It was something that was expected of the debate professor, teaching the people how to stand up for themselves and find the proper form to an argument.

Angel found him to always cut back the sweetness of the people who took his class, leveling out their need to please in a way that she knew people who didn't take his class found caustic. Working in such a closed shop she heard more than anyone else did in the street market, the stalls so open the voices carried over to one another. No secrets could be kept when the air picked up every sound, enough so that anyone could get burned when gossip traveled. It made her shop the gossip harbor, the walls soaking in the secrets enough so that it set the illusion that nothing would make it to the unknowing subject of conversation.

Just last week she heard the run-around rumor mill turning out stories of frosty puff and gingerbread taehyun. The occasional talk of lemon drop, he's just so sour, listing ways to prove someone wrong. Can't we all just get along and not fight? He must be teaching that poor sweetheart of his such nasty things.

It had made Angel roll her eyes. Who cared if he was giving the rest of Strawberry Land a backbone, it was needed in such a basket of softies. But Angel knew she was in the same boat, still a product of her environment, soobin had moved back after finding himself in a big city amongst the rich and decadent. Nothing like the homegrown bunch he had been born from.

Strawberry pinched angel's arm, her soft flesh dimpling at the draw to attention. It always took a second for Angel's skin to bounce back from a tight hold, easily squashed like the cake from which she was named. “It wasn’t just kissing it was- I don't even know how to describe it, we tasted each other in places I never thought to before,”

“Like where?” it felt absurd to think of putting angel's mouth anywhere besides the mouth of a lover, maybe the back of their hand. Strawberry fiddled with the loose ribbon she used to tie a bow on the shortcake box, tugging the strand until it neatly fell away. Even for her name, Angel had never seen strawberry so pink, from ear to ear as she swallowed. “Down there,” her eyes flickered down to Angel's zipper, popping up just as quickly to see if Angel understood what she was saying.

“Berry!” Angel whisper-shouted, shocked, and intrigued all at once. Angel wasn't too dense, she understood to some extent how it worked but never thought about their being a flavor, or even that your mouth was used for more than just kissing.

“Angel, I don't even know how to describe how good it tasted- better than this,” she held up the short plump cake, the sweet cream swirled on top and donned with a little strawberry heart. “And it's hard to taste any better than this, I mean it's more addictive than sugar,”

It seemed hard to believe, especially when Angel sunk her teeth into the light dessert. The warmth of the sponge still lingers in between the ripples of fresh fruit. The frosting was her favorite part, dotting her upper lip in the clear mark of overindulgence, the creamy whips making her softly moan.

The sound echoed in the shop, just loud enough to be heard under the giggles of the girls, talking out planned outfits to wear to school tomorrow, but it didn't catch Kai’s attention, only catching the ear of lonely Lemon Drop Soobin. He watched the way Angel wiped at her mouth, sucking her thumb clean before rolling her eyes, “Hard to believe,”

“Well, you won't know until you try,” Strawberry muttered, closing the box of sweets and tying the bow back up.

“Ew no, I hate to say it but blueberry is kind of a flavorless fruit-” Angel Cake started looking over to where soobin and Kai stood. Angel stuttered in her speech, cheeks flushed and shoulders straightening under Soobin’s piercing gaze. Strawberry not even noticing the hiccup, “No! Not with Kai, anyone else but him, I mean it, Angel, it was something else,”

Soobin quirked a brow, Angel's cheeks deepening in color. It didn't help that he was looking at her with her train of thought derailing in the direction of a lovely open pool of crisp lemonade. She could just smell the citrusy freshness that followed after him, the scent that made her perfectly aware of how different they were, and forced her to face the recollection that she wanted him in a horribly needy way.

She wondered exactly what he would taste like, obviously lemony, but would he be more sweet or sour? Fresh or bitter? He was the opposite of sweet little blueberry who was now clapping at the choice of dresses the girls had picked out. Lemon drop was a streak of verbena-washed clarity in a town full of half-baked sweet tarts. She wanted him to wash over her and teach her things she never would have known without him, open her pallet to more than just the sweets found in a shop just like Strawberry said. Because as much as she talked down on the people around her, she was just as close to them, still grappling with the niceties of sprouting out in a field of pushovers. But she had time to bake, enough so that she knew she wanted more than just a dollop of sweetness to finish her off. She needed the honesty of someone who would be just as bitter as she was sweet, someone who had left and come back, someone who knew exactly what she wanted and had achieved it themself. Only now all she could think about was what exactly you had to do for a taste of anything at zipper level.

“You know, I heard he's looking for a sitter, especially because Kai is helping me so much at the stand. It's great to have Dumpling around but sometimes following her and meringue is a bit much,” Strawberry added, looking right past soobin to where Blueberry was fussing over apple dumplings shoelaces.

“Really?” soobin had broken eye contact to tend to little lemon meringue, carrying the outfits she's picked out in one arm and pushing back his hair with a ruddy knuckled hand. She watched the two of them like she was memorizing her favorite recipe, taking the time to run over every line, connecting the little bullet point dimples the two of them shared. Even when Strawberry took her bunch with her out the door, leaving the two of them alone at her counter, she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her features.

“Don't you just love it, angel? It's so bright and pretty and does a perfect twirl when I spin,” meringue is nearly a spitting image of lemon drop, the only difference is her hair doesn't have the classic butter blond but a sun-washed version, the roots starting as a toasted tan color before fading out. But even then it's impossible to say they weren't related. Holding onto the edge of the checkout counter, hand still fluttering over the dress she's picked. Soobin reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet, grinning with the edge of his mouth as he watches her look up at Angel with her big brown eyes, dimple so deep in his cheeks she's sure she can swim in it. “It's perfect,” Soobin mutters.

For someone who has been pushed into the bitter pile by the rest of the town, Angel finds it hard to believe someone like the man before her could be anything but comforting. It was in his name, lemon drop, so nostalgic, in and of itself an acquired taste.

“I know you think that but I was asking angel,” meringue scrunched up her nose in that little kid's way, the light dusting of faded freckles tucked into the creases like a bunched blanket.

“I love it, would it even be a good dress without a perfect twirl? It's why I make sure all of the dresses in here look good when you spin,” Angel folds the items neatly sliding them into the gift bag. “Here you go,”

Soobin passes out the exact change, hand brushing angels as he lets the money go, surprised by the warmth radiating off the soft contact. Just as comforting as the alluring scent in the streets he shouldn’t have expected any less. Meringue is elated to be handed her bag giggling to herself as she thanks Angel and her dad. “Next time I see you I hope I can see your perfect twirl and soob- lem-” Angel stumbles over the right name, never really having spoken to him personally besides a few light greetings in passing.

“Soobin is fine,” his grin was a mix of amusement and arrogance that whipped Angel around in a mix of unrelenting jealousy. The ease with which he found himself walking through life was something angel only wished to grasp, and here he was, with confidence written into a single smile.

“Okay, soobin, if you ever need help after five I'm always free to watch her when you need work done. Strawberry was just telling me you could use a hand, "Angel says it so innocently, eyes blinking up to him in a way that he can't think about too closely. It takes everything in him not to look down at the very hand she speaks of, even if it's metaphorically. Because he could use a hand, specifically hers wrapped around him revealing the stress he was feeling in ways that he knew only she would be able to take care of. But it was too much to ask in a place like this, too much to think about when he was in public, and certainly too much when his child was waiting by the door for him to take her to her playdate.

“Thank you I could- um- really use the help,” he didn't know what to do with his hands, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose only for them to slip right back down, hand running through his already messy hair. It was the most angel had ever seen him discomposed, more like a stuttering school boy instead of a college professor who made school boys cower.

“Okay just let me know, you know where you can find me,”

It was only a few days later when soobin came by to ask for Angel's assistance, meringue hot on his heels as he shuffled into the shop right before closing. “I know it's last minute but Kai was supposed to take her to Strawberry’s house but turns out he cant and-”

“It's okay,” Angel chuckled, “I know the two of them have been so finicky with plans recently it's no problem at all. I just need to make sure the doors are locked up and then we can go,” and so they waited while you twisted the key, checking the knob twice, and shuddering from the slight chill in the air. In only a few days, Angel knew the gingerbread cobblestones would be coated in the thin glaze of the first frost, dollops of shoveled snow pushed up against her shop looking like misplaced piles of spilled frosting.

Lemon meringue ran ahead, her ballet flat-covered feet skipping between each stone like a made-up hopscotch map only she could see. Instinctively, Angel walked a step closer to soobin, bumping his arm with every other step they took toward his house at the end of the lane. Angel knew this was one of the reasons why he was accepted more than his other bitter labeled fellows, he lived in town, and went to town meetings even if he didn't add to the majority opinions. If he lived down on the outskirts, house kissing the woods or worse buried deep inside them, he wouldn't have a chance of being accepted in the way that he has been. It gave Meringue the best opportunity to find friends and build a relationship with the community before they ostracized her for being anything but sweet because of the name she carried.

Pushing open the door to their modest place, Angel was surprised by the solace laced into the brown woods and honey-colored accents thrown around the house. Stacks of leather tomes litter tidy shelves, and little dolls, and figurines placed by meringue are known only because of how high each item reaches. It smelled of freshly picked lemons and the cozy baked smell of warmed sugar. It was just late enough for the sun to be setting in through the gauzy curtains, casting the room in a warm golden glow. Angel wasn't to bask in the light, curl up like a kitten on the plush couch, tucked in with the knitted blanket tossed over the back like an invitation.

Meringue shot forward, hand wrapped around Angel's wrist tugging her past the living room and to the overly saturated room that could only belong to a child as happy as her. “Look, angel! I can show you all my princess dresses, we can do a fashion show!” She pushed open a trunk decorated like a little carriage fit to wheel a queen in, the lid holding back all the tulle and silk, only to now spill out like an overstuffed donut.

Soobin chuckled by the doorway, knowing exactly how his daughter was. She would keep Angel entertained enough for the both of them, needing no help to find something to do. It was the only thought in his head until he caught sight of Angel's wrist, his little meringue’s handprint still indented on her soft skin. He watched in amazement the way it slowly rose back into shape like a cake filling the tin in the oven. The thoughts running in his head were nothing to be proud of, images of his hands on the plush of angel tummy driving him mad. He had to turn away, leaving them alone in the room to focus on the stack of papers he had on the edge of his desk to dull the image of his handprint on the crease of her hip, dented into her thigh.

It was hard to get work done as is, his mind always fluttering through the tasks at hand, the next paper to grade, the time to pick up meringue, when he would be able to fit in the time to sleep. Now all he can think about is sweet cream dotting the smooth expanse of buttery cake. He hardly got through the few papers waiting for him, red pen in hand, staining the tips of his fingers as it sat motionless waiting for him to write. Hours passed, the soft laughter and chatting heard through the cracked door, every so often a glimpse of yellow and pink crossed in front of his field of vision, both angel and meringue going from the living room and back.

It made soobin happy to not worry that Meringue was having a good time, sometimes she fell shy especially when not near Apple Dumpling. She even had to warm up to Strawberry, only becoming her bubbly self when she and dumpling were alone, hiding behind her closest advisers in the face of someone new. But Meringue had always wanted to talk to Angel Cake even before they had known her to be best friends with Strawberry. His sweet lemony girl's eyes go wide and glittery seeing the expanse of clothes held in Angel's shop, do you think she gets to try on anything she wants? Look at how cute she dressed Daddy! I wish I had her job.

Every little comment only showed how deeply Meringue wanted to play dress up, more so play with Angel. He's sure even if he had asked for Angel to watch meringue in the shop she would have just as much fun as she was having going around the house now. He loved how comfortable Meringue found herself around Angel, and how Angel accepted his girl with open arms.

Time slipped past soobin without realizing the laughter had faded into hazy silence, more than half his stack of papers cleared through and marked to be returned to waiting students. He ran his fingers under his eyes, glasses set askew from the rubbing, sighing into the empty study. Soobin didn't notice Angel until he smelled her, that wonderfully delicate sweet smell of vanilla sweetness making him hold back his groan. He had thought it had only been the smell of the shop. The cake-like walls were made to pull in customers like the cinnamon scent of a bakery wafting through the streets, beckoning all who breathed in the air. Maybe Angel smelled so delicious because of working all day, the scent rubbing off and sticking to her hair, her clothes, her skin.

“She's fast asleep, knocked out almost as soon as she laid down to read her bedtime book,” Angel leaned against the edge of soobins desk, hip digging into the wood, fingers sprawled over the skewed pages of work. To Soobin, she was a dazzling masterpiece of messy hair and flushed skin, dress short enough for him to see the way the desk was pinching her thigh.

“Thank you,” the words twisted into a whisper from how dry his mouth had gotten just from looking at a single strip of skin. Licking his lips he tried to swallow, finding something to say besides the hollow echo of words he had managed.

“Oh it's nothing really, she's a doll,” Angel's eyes danced over the pages at her hand, “you lived in the city right?” even just the mention had soobins mind going back to the dull colorless house he found himself in when studying for his degree. It made him sick to think about raising meringue in a place like that, she was why he had moved back home, not caring how off-put the rest of the town was about him now.

“Yes, I did,” he sat back in his chair, one elbow still resting on the desk and the other laid out on the armrest. He was half turned to angel, lower because of sitting and now having her tower over him. And her damn thigh was there right next to him, knuckles twitching to brush over the smooth expanse of skin.

“Did you like it?” Angel had tipped her voice down to a whisper, the dim light needing the change when she had decorated the question in enough hope and worry. It wasn't as if Soobin’s answer would change much, she knew she dreamed of a city out there bright enough to blind the thought of home but it was hard to leave when it was all she ever knew, she didn't even know if she truly wanted to leave.

“I liked it enough,” soobin bit at his bottom lip, worrying over the question. It was as honest an answer as he could give. “But it wasn't home, not for me, not for meringue. There is nothing quite like the comfort of home,”

“Like this place you have here,” Angel lifted her chin, looking around the packed study with even more books and bobs. “That couch of yours looks too cozy not to nap on,”

“You should see my bed,” it was a quick response, one that didn't pass the filter connected to the bit of his mouth that kept him from saying anything embarrassing. “I- I didn’t mean it like that-”

But Angel didn't get the innuendo embedded into the words, she just nodded, “I should, I bet it's just as warm as the rest of this place, you have it at just the right temperature,”

The lack of sleep was making him loose, his finger drifting out to press right into the outside of Angel's thigh, pushing against the soft plush of her skin just enough to feel the heat from her, “you sure it's not you? You seem to keep warm enough,”

“Oh no, take it from a cake to know exactly when they walk into the right level of warmth. This is perfectly cozy,”

“You do feel…lively,” soobin drags his finger up Angel's thigh, reaching right to the hem of her dress, stopping right before it could go any further. The line he had drawn was like the roadmap to the realization that he should not be touching her like this. But it was incredibly hard to remember his mind when he felt this hazy; drunk off the lack of sleep and the sweet smell of sugary cake.

Angel felt the pad of his finger slip right up her spine, sink into her nervous system, and cloud her mind. Even if he had pulled away, flexing his hand as if that would sink the feeling of her warm skin into his palm, she could swear the touch was tattooed right there forever now.

She couldn’t forget it, not on the walk home, not when she showered the day away, not even when she climbed into bed. The moonlight slipped in through her lacy curtains, the soft gleam pulling her mind right back to the study. Her finger pressed right where she remembered him, circling the spot like she was tracing the shape of the yellowing moon on her thigh.

Even the moon made her think of him, a little lemon drop in the sky, her bed warm enough to picture what it would be like to snuggle up in his. Her fingers were too soft and not at all how she needed them to be to pick up her illusion. Pressing them harder into her thigh she felt an ache between her legs, centered right at the heart of her.

Angel had never felt such a pull to touch herself, not until the butter blonde boy was there just out of reach, so close to palming her thigh instead of just using the tip of his fingers. She wanted his hands all over her, they didn't even need to be warm, she just needed him. Needed his finger pressed on the tormentor's bud that called for him. But for now, she would have to make do, her hand pushed into her shorts feeling along the wet seam of herself never knowing that her body would crave someone so bad without even having tasted them like strawberry had said.

But the only thing on her mind was lemon drop, her hips rolling into her hand, the soft moans drawn out from a mouth so unfamiliar with this sound. Her body told her the way to move, and where to seek peak pleasure until she was a gasping mess, creaming around her dainty digits. Angel Cakes' new discovery was a calamity, highlighting a deep desire she didn't know she could hold within herself. A catastrophe; soobin had been the one to knock a tray of glasses to the floor, already so recklessly close to the edge until one push sent them shattering, angel couldn't clean the glass fast enough, left to never be the same again.

Soobin was no better, he was a cracked vase slowly leaking out in drips of sun-melted ice, he had to hold it together for work, for home; hastily wrapping fingers around the seeping seams only for his thoughts to pour out between his fingers. Because angel cake was spinning in his living room, twirling around with his daughter, giggling until they were a dizzy pile on the floor. His office door just cracked as he caught sight of angels' sweet lacy white panties, clinging to the curve of her ass. If he had knocked over the tray of her sanity, angel cake had taken a hammer to his fragile vase, smashed it until it was powered, and easily passed as dusting sugar on the treats in strawberry’s shop.

Soobin felt his addiction take its toll on him, every night the image of angel cake washed over his sleeping mind until he was reduced to nothing but a needy muddled mess of thruming joints. He couldn't go one day without his hand wrapped around his cock, working his wrist until he was spilling dribbles of cum onto sheets that needed her in them. It was worse when his order from strawberry came in, Kai handing the box over right at the doorway, picking up Meringue for her sleepover with Dumpling. The smell of the shortcake filled the house as soon as he shut the door behind them.

He was embarrassed to have such an obsession with angel cake, sure that she would cringe away from his desperation for her. So desperate he was standing in the kitchen with one hand down his pants and the other digging into the soft sponge of one of the cakes just brought over. The cream and crumb squished out between his fingers as he came, moaning into the empty space until the sound reverberated around him, the smell of her dancing around his body. He wanted her, needed her.

Soobin didn’t even remember the trip to Angel's shop's door, his nose pulling him along the crumb-dotted cobblestone, leading him right to the front doors, so willing to be eaten by the magic-laced girl inside. He could see her through the frosted glass windows, the closed sign turned to signal the end of her shift but she was leaning over the stand of shirts, fixing them in the way she wanted, her end-of-day routine. He could smell her, that buttery sweetness addicting, making him delirious. He wanted to sink his hands into her warm flesh, hold her tight enough so that if anyone saw they would know it was his hands that had been on her, that she was his, and his alone.

He pushed open the unlocked door, the ding of the bell signaling his entrance, that glance over her shoulder ruining him once and for all. “Hi! Did I forget I was supposed to come over tonight? I can pack up real quick or she can stay here-”

“No, blueberry took her- i- i-” he was struggling with the words, a stuttering fool standing in the middle of the shop like he'd come to beg. And he had, he would beg her till the end of his days to have one taste, to have her tear into him like she was peeling back the layers of his sanity. “I need you,”

“Oh?” she tilted her head to the side, the pure look of innocence smashing into him like a wave. He wanted to stain her, fill her up, and call her his.

Soobin struggled to swallow, every breath filling his lungs with her, she was right there on the tip of his tongue. “I need you,” his hand reached down to the bulge sitting against his thigh, hard, thick, and weeping for her.

If Angel Cake hadn't spoken to Strawberry about the zipper-level kisses she would have been confused beyond belief. But it had been all she could think of since then, what it would be like to lick up his body and know exactly what it was that made people so addicted. Because she was grappling with the fact that she was already falling down the rabbit hole of need, to finally taste him would be like crashing right into another world. “I don't know- I don't know how-” she was flushed all over from the confession because she didn't want him to leave, if he needed her she would mold herself to fit and fix any problem he had. Her lack of knowledge wouldn't hold her back, if he was a teacher she would be his best student.

“I'll show you, tell you everything you need to know,” he snapped the button on his pants, undoing the zipper releasing enough pressure to let out the most sinful noise angel had ever heard. She could feel her panties flooded with the cream that had been leaking from her for days now, always tied to the thought of him. If he felt even a fraction of how she did, Angel would make sure to take the best care of him.

“O-okay,” Angel Cake could feel her mouth water, her thighs pulling together, needing them closer to relieve the ache she felt. Soobin locked the door behind him, tugging Angel to a spot behind a rack of clothes. “Here get on your knees in front of me,”

Angel was fast to listen, sinking to the ground in front of him, hands placed neatly on the tops of her thighs, looking up at soobin with those wanting eyes. Just thinking about those plush lips warping around his cock was taking him out, and watching the tip of her tongue wet her mouth was excruciating. Soobin reached into his pants, pulling out his veiny shaft, the sheer size making Angel's eyes widen.

She didn't know what she was expecting but she was not expecting to feel empty at the sight. The top of him was shiny with a layer of leaking pre-cum. Soobin ran his thumb across his slit collecting the wetness to swirl around the tip, moaning at the way Angel's mouth fell open without realizing. “You can touch it,” he nodded, watching how Angel was gripping her skirt, crinkling the fabric trying to hold herself back.

Angel lifted a shaking hand, fingers brushing the side of him, amazed at the softness so much that she wrapped her hand around him and gave a tug. Soobins chest rumbled, his hand reaching out for the rack next to him, the hangers clattering from the force of his grip. “Sorry-”

“No, no you're doing good, just like that, slow and easy,” he nodded, biting back his moan when her wrist flicked again, “you can squeeze a little harder,” he whispered, his free hand finding itself around hers, showing her just the right amount of pressure he was looking for. Soobin's hand guided Angel's until he was using her hold as if it was his own, speeding up the pace.

Angel watches in amazement as soobins head rolls back, his brows pinched as he whimpers. She's never wanted to taste something or someone so bad, and now, with him right in front of her, she can't resist the temptation for what it is. Angel sits up just enough so that she can press a sweet kiss to his tip, a string of pre-cum still connecting her lips to him. Soobin lets out a shocked gasp, watching the way she licks her lips clean.

The taste is subtle, the sweet and sour mixed together only to draw Angel back in for more. She didn't even know what she was doing, compelled by the flavor to envelop him fully, the flat of her tongue licked up and around to collect more of the addictive fluid. Soobin’s knees go weak at the warmth of her mouth, hips jerking to try to chase the feeling, “Oh fuck just like that,” his hand still holding hers, working over the rest that wasn't pressed into her mouth.

Angel cake moaned around him, his bitter lemon taste mixing with the sweetness from his pre-cum. She wanted to swallow him whole, take more of him down. Soobin couldn't even think anymore, Angel's mouth trying to work further down, her hand stopping right at his base. Angel hollows her cheeks, sucking him down like its instinct, soobins groan taking over the silence and joining the soft wet noises. Soobins restraint breaks, overwhelmed by the way her mouth molds to his cock so perfectly, his mind working to imagine it's her waiting cunt. She takes him down so deep he can feel the back of her throat. It's enough for him to wrap his hands into her hair, fingers wrapping softly around her skull as he fucks into her mouth without warning. Angel moans, the vibrations going straight up his cock and making his balls clench. Her hands reach out for his thighs to keep herself steady, tears welling in her eyes, loving the newfound sensation.

Angel Cake doesn't know what to expect, lashes fluttering as he loses himself in the feel of her. It's a shock when his thrusts become erratic, his body trembling with a deep groan, sweet lemon cream spilling on her waiting tongue. Angel tries to swallow, unable because he keeps going, fucking his cum right into her still willing mouth, spurt after spurt following until he has to pull away. Angel gasps, sucking in gulps of air, mouth a mess of dripping lemon custard and saliva.

If she had thought the pre-cum had been addicting, she didn't know the effect the real deal would have on her. Blindly, she wiped the corner of her mouth, licking the cream she'd collected, humming as if she'd just taken a bite of the richest lemon bar. The sight and sound made soobin impossibly more obsessed with her, fingers going down her cheek, pulling her attention to his awestruck expression.

His head was clearing but it didn't stop the infection of her as it slipped well past his mind, into his bones, into his soul. He had heard about how easy it was to save a fruit tree if you cut away the rot fast enough; right at first sight. Angel cake had taken hold of every thorny branch on his tree and twisted herself in the sparse foliage, so deeply intertwined now that he wasn't sure there was ever a time when it would have been an easy snip to rid himself of this fever.

Angel Cake's face was a glistening mess of wetness when he squished her cheeks with one large hand, her pouting lips so kissable and pink. “Look at you,” a surrealistic sigh caught on the edge of his tone. He leaned down, needing a taste of the two of them, the perfect combination of bitter and sweet, angel's sugary spit mixed with his lemony custard making him powerless. And when he pulled away, letting go of angel's cheeks, he watched the way her lips stayed puffy, the illusion of dimples still there as her skin rose back, flushed a petal pink. “Did I do good?”

“You did perfect,” soobin brushes his nose along the bridge of hers, his eyes closing, breathing her in. He wanted to tear into her, squish his fingers into her, and memorize every little action that brought out a sound. But in his post orgasm clarity, he noticed exactly what he had done. He had tainted this perfect angel, filled her with more than just bad ideas but had fully gone in and let his uncontrollable emotions take over.

Even when Angel Cake had gotten home later that night, she couldn't stop licking her lips. She was lying in bed, wriggling in the sheets trying and failing to find a comfortable position let alone sleep. Her hand was stuck between her legs, on the verge of tears for nothing working to cave in a hunger that she was only now painfully aware of. She hated that she was alone, hated it more than she knew the feeling of his hands on her, knew that those long fingers would have been perfect to fix her problem as easily as she had fixed his.

The hunger triggered a compulsion within her similar to the one soobin experienced on his walk to Angel’s shop, her feet carrying her through the streets, half-dressed in her silky lace pajamas. The lemon drop moon cast its path down the cobblestone to Soobin’s front door. The cold unfelt against Angel's warm skin, and when soobin opened the door he could see the steam rising off of her heated body. The haze of it mixed with the backlight of the moon made her look like a true angel waiting right at his front step, outlined in the glow. She hasn't even come in shoes, her thick socks slouched around her ankles, her shorts pinched at her waist, and one tank top strap down her shoulder. He could see her pebbled nipples through the thin material, his lips pursing at the thought of wrapping around them. “Angel?”

He couldn't tell if this was one of his dreams, the kind that left him reaching out in a bed she never saw. “I think I need you now,” she couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed by the words, not when she had seen him in the same state, begging and just as needy. Soobin rushed to pull her inside, ready to get her wrapped up in something to keep her from freezing if that was possible for someone so warm. He hardly had the door closed when she was pulling him closer to her, wrapping her arms around his neck, tugging him into her space. She needed to have him in her mouth again and soobin knew he wasn't going to turn her away. His hands slid down her back, fingers digging into the soft skin, groaning into her sugar-sweet mouth, the sound catching in the back of her throat, and she swallowed it down greedily.

Angel didn't know what to do with her hands, her mind shutting off and following their natural way, slipping into his hair, the strands tangling between her fingers, his lemony sweet kisses taking over her mind as he slowly kissed her. But Angel was impatient, whining and rubbing her thighs together.

“What is it baby? Tell me,” he kissed down her jaw, intoxicated by the smell of her, so much stronger when she was so hot against him.

Angel reached down for one of his hands, guiding it like he had done for her, pushing his fingers until they slipped right against the silk of her shorts, “it's so achy,” she whimpered, “and all I can do is think about you,”

She was like a freshly wrapped gift left on the front step, the label perfectly signed with his name and his name alone. A sinful treat he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into. He dragged his fingers along the seam of her, the silk already spotted with wetness, “you want me to take care of you?” the husk of his voice was thick in her ear like syrup.

“Please- please,” her nods are erratic, hips rolling trying to keep him right against her tender clit. Her pathetic cry echoes in the living room when he pulls his hand away. But he doesn't keep his hands away for long, dragging her to his room, having her fall to his bed, right where he's wanted her. Her knees fall open, the heels of her feet digging into the mattress. She's a vision of her namesake, mewling when soobin hooks his fingers into her waistband and takes down her panties and shorts, sliding them down her legs and peeling her socks off, leaving her bottom half exposed.

Soobin is caught at the sight of her gleaming cunt, leaking arousal the color of royal icing, creamy and sweet, looking as if she had been stuffed full of him already. Nothing could keep him from getting a taste. He fell to his knees like this was a place to beg for forgiveness. But he wouldn't be sorry, not after he started his feast. Soobin licked a bold stripe up from her entrance to clit, groan ripped from him with only one drop of her. He wrapped his arms under her legs, holding her open and watching how his fingers dented her flesh, the plush of her spilling between fingers itching to stay there and mold her as his forever.

Angel let out a sharp gasp the second his mouth was attached to her aching center, thighs trying to snap shut around his head, held in place and forced open as she arched her back. Her fingers twisted in the sheets, her breathing only coming out when she slipped out moans. He was devouring her, licking her clean like he was enjoying the frosting before the cupcake, sucking deeply on her clit just to watch her tremble.

Soobin does not care about the mess he's making of her, face dripping with his Angel's cream, moans of delight vibrating against her puffy clit. He doesn’t even notice the way she's writhing beneath him, only that he's now faced with the most delicious meal he has ever had. Moaning into her, slurping up all that she has to offer trying to pull forth more of her sweet cream. And he didn't have to try hard, not when she needed him so bad already, the bubbling building in her lower belly so newfound and yet never before so intense. Angel cake feels like a balloon ready to pop, one deep long suck on her clit has her seeing stars, her orgasm washing over her as swiftly as a needle prick, causing her to come undone. The gush of her arousal keeps Soobin’s mouth right against her, his persistent licks only pulling him in more.

He was a desperate mess, working away at his pants, rutting into the mattress as if that would curb his insatiable hunger. He needed to be inside of her, filling her up with his lemon custard, fucking her senseless until she was begging to stay right here in his bed and never leave. He wanted that, to keep her as his, not just press his hand into her thigh and leave that lasting mark. No, he needed to claim her as his in the best, most lasting way. “Do you want me inside you Angel?” he pressed the flat of his palm into her pelvis, relishing in the way he felt himself sinking into her skin. “Right here, filling you up, making you mine-”

Angel had never felt so empty, not until he pointed it out, solving a problem she never thought she had. Her mewling response was a mix of pleas and whimpers. She didn't care what he did so long as she could have him near, and if he could fix the burn in her belly he could devour her just as well as tear her apart.

Soobin lifted Angel's legs enough so that the backs of her knees were slotted against his inner elbows, one hand reaching down to guide his dripping cock to her waiting entrance. Angel does not expect the pressure of being pushed into, her gasp caught on a half-open mouth of pure bliss. Every slow tantalizing inch stretches her out, her body instinctively clenching around him trying to suck him in. “Relax, baby,” he whispers, his hand sliding up her stomach, up under her tank top to reveal her breasts. He rubs at her skin, soothing her tense muscles until he's sunk all the way into the hilt, her body melting and molding around his.

Soobin waits, catching himself from letting go, letting their bodies adjust to each other. But Angel is impatient, rolling her hips, not even realizing she's trying to fuck back onto him, only that she needs some kind of friction. But soobin is slow to pull out and even slower to push back in, eyes connected to the spot they meet at. Her body was like clay beneath him, so easily shaped into the perfect temptation. Every drag in and out coated his cock in her cream, mesmerizing him, numbing his brain.

Angel could tell the difference in him, that split second that makes his eyes go hazy, hips snapping into hers making her body ripple from the force. “you were fucking made for me- do you feel how deep I am-“ he’s slamming into her, the lude sounds of their wetness mixing; echoing with their moans. All the veins in his hands straining from the hold on her soft sides.

He was pressed so deep into her she could feel him hitting a spot that made her hips sink, her hands reaching out to hold his hands, needing the comfort not knowing what was building inside her. so much more intense than when it’s her fingers or even just his mouth. “soobin im-im-“ she can’t even find the words looking for something that she didn’t know existed until just now.

“we can cum together- I’ll fill you up make sure to pump you full so you know exactly where I'm going to put our baby,” he moves his hand down to press his thumb to her clit, triggering her to jolt, the walls of her pulsing around him before she’s falling apart.

Angel's body is a tightening mess, her back arching, cheeks flushing as she comes undone for him. The pull of her body to his makes him shudder, his whole body falling against hers needing to be close, needing to smell the vanilla sweetness of her skin, sinking his teeth into her shoulder as he holds back his strangled moans. Slow languid thrusts push his lemon custard cum back into her, needing to make true to his promise to have her full of him and only him. Needing to mix together their cream for the perfect bake.

Neither of them knows what's happened to them, only that they are a tangle of limbs, wrapped up tight enough that Angel can still feel the pulse of his cock deep inside her, still pumping into her never having cum so much in his life before then.

Angel feels boneless when he pulls away, her whimper making him chuckle. “I just need to see your creamy pussy again,” the sight to behold better than before now that he knows the wetness is more his than hers. His fingers dragged through her sensitive cunt, collecting the mess to shove it back Into her, fucking her on his fingers for a second. He lifts his fingers in front of them showing Angel the sheer amount of cream coating the digits. “If I could bottle this flavor I would,” he licks them clean before leaning over to shove his tongue into her mouth, needing her to taste what he’s found as his new obsession.

Angel swallows down the cum, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, twisting legs and burrowing in closer. “you taste sweeter than I thought you would,”

“Did the thought of it keep you up?” he asks, nose brushing along the column of angel's throat. “because thinking of you while being alone in this bed is hell, I need both of my girls under my roof to feel complete,”

“both…” the sound of the word was heavy in her mouth. Not in an uncomfortable way but in a way a piece of chocolate sat on her tongue, melting and sweet, craving to place another one as soon as it was gone.

“Both.” The finality of the word is better than the buttery sheets he’s pressing her right back Into.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @no1likemybbgcharlie @chasingthatjjunie want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! thank you so much @izzyy-stuff for helping edit this for me ily ily ily @thetxtdevil and @beomiracles for betareading this a bit, but special special thank you for mae who gave me a lot of these ideas in the first place, her perfect mind came up with the cake like reader with indenting skin and helped with the conversation with strawberry and angel <3

#soobin x reader #soobin smut #txt x reader #txt smut #choi soobin x reader #soobin hard hours #soobin hard thoughts #soobin txt #txt soobin #yeonjun #beomgyu #taehyun #huening kai

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merlucide · 3 months ago

Text

GIVING THEM A FLOWER CROWN!~ ♪

notes: aha… not my normal content! The alien stage brainrot has gotten to me and there is NOTHING for this fandom 😭

characters: Mizi, Sua, Till, Ivan, Luka, Hyuna

warnings: light curing, cringe but who gaf, not proofread

You carefully weaved the red flower stems together, fingers gently tugging on the petals to perfectly secure the crown. You examined your work, satisfied with the quality of your labor. You got up from the grassy shade you were sitting under and looked around for your s/o, whom you finally found in the cafeteria, sitting alone in a secluded corner munching on something to their liking.

Her eyes immediately brighten when seeing you hehe

She stands up from her spot and slams her hands onto the table

“Y/N! Guess what!! They’re letting me have sweets!! It’s just this once but still! Would you like some?”

To which you happily nod your head, letting her feed you a spoonful of strawberry shortcake.

“Isn’t it good? Ugh it’s amazing!” Mizi sighs happily, licking the frosting of her spoon.

“Everything all good though?”

You fiddle with the petals behind your back, slightly nervous.

“Well, I have something for you, close your eyes!”

Mizi goes ‘😲’ to ‘😊’

She patiently waits for you give present her with whatever it is

You place the delicate crown onto her awaiting soft hands.

She blinks open her eyes and a bright smile adorns her pretty lips

“I- For me?! Really?! Oh wow!! It’s so pretty!” She gasps excitedly, her index finger hovering over the red petals barely touching the soft skin.

“How did you know these were my favorites?!” Mizi asked eyes wide

“Heh, well you’ve mentioned it to probably anyone who would listen, and they are the only flowers that grow freely in here,” You giggle, which a soft blush coats her cheeks.

She whispers a soft “oh..!” 😮

You took the crown and place it on top of her pink hair

“So pretty, my princess,” you teased lovingly

She thinks something happened by the way you just speed past everyone straight to her lmao

“..Where you looking for me? Sorry, I should’ve told you where I was headed,” Sua softly said, wiping the corners of her mouth politely.

“Everything alright?”

To which you wave her off, saying simply ‘I just needed to see you,’ which makes her feel all mushy n’ loved ><

“Now! Close your eyes,” you playfully demand, which Sua obeys.

You take her hands and hold them out open for the crown

And then placed your creation in her palms

“Okay- open now!”

Sua blinks her eyes, surprised at the sudden gift, a soft smile settles on her lips

“It’s so very pretty, y/n, thank you,” Sua beams, placing it upon her head.

“How do I look?” She asks

You look BEAUTIFUL Sua 🥹

You smile back at her, “Stunning as ever! Red is such a pretty color on you Sua.”

She then places a soft kiss on your cheek.

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything else to give you in return, I hope this will suffice for now,” Sua cheekily whispered.

“Yeah, that took a lot of my time and energy so I’m gonna need a few moreeeee 😏”

Currently gouging little sandwiches down his throat lmao

He was scarfing it down like a starved man probably was ☹️

You’re unsure if he hears you or is simply in sandwich heaven because he isn’t responding to you calling his name ‘Till, Till, Till, TILL?? TILL?!?”

“TILL?” You almost yelled, tapping him

His head frantically shot up and distraughtly began choking and coughing.

Which you’re freaking out bc you though you just killed him somehow

You aggressively pat his back, flower crown long forgot on the floor lmao

His coughing fit calms down, and a tear slips down his red face.

Just kill him now, he CANNOT look you in the eye after you just witnessed that

“Till?? Are-Are you okay?? Sorry- I didn’t mean to, scare you? Are you okay?” You awkwardly rub his back

“Fine.” He grunts out

He awkwardly clears his throat, fixing his gaze on the floor

“So um, didja uh, need anything..? Or something?”

“Oh yeah! Um, well I have you something, if that’s okay,”

Till blushed at the thought that you cared enough to give a gift to him

“Okay! Close you eyes!” You beamed

you bent down and picked up the crown.

He thought of every possible outcome it could be- his imagination likes the idea that the gift was a kiss >.<

Which has Till beet red, awaiting for a kiss that never came

“Alright- open your eyes!”

He peeled open his eyes, settling them on the flower headpiece you made

He was unsure what you had meant by this

Like?? You want me to wear it?

“What do you think? Hm?” You peered

“Y-you made this for me eh?” He awkwardly asked

You nodded as he took the crown from your hands and gave it a good look

“It’s very, ah, pretty..? Thank you y/n,” he gave a smile to you, putting the crown on the table

You softly frowned. “You’re not going to wear it?”

Oh Till wish he would have just shut his mouth-

“WHAAT? No!! Of course I am?! What the hell are you talking about!?” He scrambled to find something to say to make you happy again

Till aggressively put the crown on top of his head

“S-SEE?!” Till nervously yelled, causing a few heads to turn

You giggled at his reaction, oh he was so cute :3

“I’m glad you like it Till, mwah” you placed a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth

Till rn: 😳😦

Basically he’s broken yk

“Okay- I’m leaving now byeeeee!~” knowing what you just did left him a mess

“Out looking for me so soon?” He teased

“Oh hush would you,” you playfully snapped back, sitting beside him.

Ivan curiously leaned to see what you were hiding behind your back-

Which you leaned back further so he couldn’t heh

“Abababa!- No peeking, you’ll see soon enough,” you grin

Ivan dramatically sighs and sits back, waiting for what you’ll do next

You exhale “Alrighty, close you eyes,”

Which Ivan did as you told

After a few times of peeking his eye open to annoy you just a bit

You grabbed his hands and opened them flat, and then put down the crown upon them.

Ivan opened his eyes and made a ‘:o’ face

He moved the crown around, looking at all of the intricate braidings you did

“..It’s lovely, thank you y/n,” Ivan grinned

He installed it on top of his head, making sure it’s secure.

“Now, did you make this all special for me?” He coyly asked, already knowing the damn answer 🙄

You scoffed, you felt your face warming up at his teasing

“You’re so annoying..”

Ivan rn: :3

“Yes stupid, I made it just for you, because I love you. Happy with that answer?” You mocked lovingly.

Ivan was kinda caught off guard at your honest answer tbh

His face was dusted with a glowing crimson, and eyes slightly widened

“Mn, good,” he softly smiled “I love you too,”

He pressed a soft kiss to your hand and offered to make you a crown in return :)

(Luka + Hyuna’s parts doesn’t take place in Anakt Garden 🗣️)

He was aware of you nervously tip-toeing around him, and he was rather curious to what you’ve been hiding

“So, what is it hm? What is it you don’t you want me to see?”

And you were kinda like ?!

You thought you were being sneaky, huh

“Well ah, I’m not hiding anything-“ “Really?” “Nope,” “Then why are you so nervous, hm?” Luka continued to press

He was soo annoying like this, ugh

You sighed, leaving the room for a moment and returning with something behind your back

Luka’s brows raised expectantly

“I wasn’t sure if you’d like it so ah,” you fiddled with the crown nervously.

Luka could be very condescending and belittle your feelings, and just be a jerk yk

Which was a totally valid reason to be scared to give him a gift you made!

“It’s silly but um, here, I made this for you,” you said handing him the flower crown

Luka’s expression was unreadable, which kinda stressed you out more

Luka placed the crown on his head, “What do you think, hm?” He asked

“It’s rather suiting for the prince, don’t you think?” He mused, his purple fingers tucking a piece of your hair out of your face.

“My star, don’t be shy to spoil me with gifts, I won’t reject you y’know”

You all felt silly and embarrassed :> heh

“..mm right,”

“When did you even have time to make this?” He asked curiously

“Well, my ‘owner’ is less strict then yours,” you scoffed “I’ve been bringing good money n’ popularity with my photoshoots and other gigs . It apparently values ‘self expression’ , heh, so it let me wander a bit.”

Luka hummed in acknowledgement, continuing to play with you hair

“I’ll get you something pretty next time,”

She was like all stressed out because the gang was supposed to have already left the area and you weren’t anywhere to be seen

She’s looking around everywhere for you, and Aliens and androids are starting to figure out what was happening- a raid

Right before she’s about to go rouge and take the motorcycle

She sees you running towards her 🙏 Which she lets out the deepest sigh out ever

She takes your hands and drags you into the jeep

Dewey slams the gas and everyone speeds off, luckily without anyone being caught

Nooow… as for what happens when you guys get back at base

She so pissed LMAOO

I mean she has every right to be upset, you done fked up dawg 🧍‍♀️

She scolding you for going off the plan and wandering off- especially during a raid!!

“What the hell were you thinkin’ huh?! What if they caught you? You wanna be forced back into that life?! Hyuna yelled, gripping onto your shoulders

You could only try to defend why you did it, but it would only fall to deaf ears

You knew she was right, and what you did was stupid- but you haven’t seen those kinds of flowers in what seemed like forever!

They were like a strange comfort, an odd memory of ‘home’

You also could see how overwhelmed Hyuna was by everything recently, the main plan was getting ready to be in motion

You thought you could give her the flowers, hopefully brightening her mood somehow.

“I really am sorry Hyuna, I just had to get it!” “Get what? Get what hah?” Hyuna pressed

You sighed and pulled out the squished flower crown from your bag

Hyuna’s eyes slightly widened as she watched you

“I found them, the flowers from the garden,” You paused. “‘Made it for you, Hyuna,”

She paused, slowly taking the crown and touching the petals,

He shook her head softly.

“You’re ridiculous you know that,” she scoffs, her lips curling into a soft grin

“Unbelievable, really, no sane person literally risks their life for flowers, babes,”

You smile “Heh, I don’t think anyone here is sane,”

She leaned forward to place a lingering kiss onto your forehead

“I really am sorry yun’,” You whispered

“It’s done now, please don’t do that again though. I can’t do this without you y/n,” She smiled at you

“I don’t think I’ve seen these since we left? I didn’t even know they grew out here!” Hyuna laughed

erm sorry for the cringe .. 🧍‍♀️ also sorry for the shortness of Mizi’s + Sua’s 😭 I had a brainfart w/ them

Made Nov 6th 2024

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kokokoula · 4 months ago

Text

mornings (birthday special)

a/n: i legit sat down and spent a whole day to pull this one out of my ass. i just wish i could post this earlier. if i fail my exams, i swear-- quoting sei: "i'm the reason why i'm stressed." (btw this is not the soft spot fic just something for tsukki's birthday.)

---

tsukishima remembers akaashi mentioning that the dullest way to start a story is a character waking up to the sun shining.

"it's so overused, and there's nothing hooking the readers. writers really need to up their game..." akaashi had complained, something really rare. guess the stress can really get to people sometimes.

tsukishima cracks his eyes open and sees your figure, though blurry, sleeping peacefully beside him the first thing in the morning, with the sunlight spilling onto the bed and adorning your face. it's so ethereal yet fragile, this moment; maybe this is what the writers were trying to capture.

tsukishima can't remember when the last time he woke up before you was. he's used to seeing your eyes gaze up at him and hearing your giggle when his meets yours. "good morning" will be softly whispered follow by a light kiss on the cheek.

he knows that he might wake you, but kei still entangles his legs with yours and shifts closer to wrap his arm around you. he presses his lips against the the crown of your head, taking a second to breathe in the familiar scent of the shampoo you always use.

adulthood is never easy, especially if you have to juggle both a museum job and a volleyball career. tsukishima loves what he does, seriously, but sometimes it gets exhausting. it's running errands, running on court, and repeat. emails. blocking. artifacts. spiking. records. training--

kei finally catches a breath when he sees you at the end of the day, wearing one of his shirts and half asleep on the couch, waiting for him to return. he'd kick off his shoes and leave his things by the door, stumbling into your embrace that feels more like home than this house can ever be.

you stir awake. his arm around your waist tightens. he feels your hand coming up to the nape of his neck, running through the strands of blonde hair. it feels good.

"morning, kei." he responds with a hum and another kiss to your head. you pull away and he groans, but shuts up when you kiss him on the lips. it's long and lazy, he loves it.

"happy birthday, beanpole." oh right, it's the twenty-seventh.

"thank you."

"you're getting old." you say and stifle a laugh. he clicks his tongue in mock annoyance. "that just means i'm wiser than you."

he pulls you in again. comfortable silence settles, with the occasional sounds of the busy world outside. he could stay like this.

suddenly, you tap on his arm urgently, sitting up.

"shit, we're meeting tadashi and the others, remember?"

"do we have to?"

"obviously."

just when you are about to leave the bed, he catches onto your hand and kisses the back of it.

"you owe me strawberry shortcake later." you both know he'll end up paying anyways, and you'll bicker about it like an old couple.

"okay, you big baby."

tsukishima smiles.

#tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei fluff #tsukishima fluff #haikyuu fluff #happy birthday tsukki #not beta read #once again

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lowkeyrobin · 11 months ago

Note

hi pookie can I get an mcyt with reader that bakes?? Like they'll just come in on stream and give mcyts a fucking platter of baked goods lol

-🎀 anon

oooo yes omg!! thank you 🎀 anon! <3 got the whole gang in here for this one LOL

MCYT ; "in my baker era"

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, foolish gamers, slimecicle, & cellbit

warnings ; language, mentions of drugs

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

"Hi y/n- oh, thank you, darling!'

literally has the widest smile on his face

shows off the goods to the stream

"do these have any drugs in them? me n charlie are trying to sell drugs, y/n. we need more stock"

you hear charlie screaming through tommys headphones, "we need the grain, y/n! we need THE GRAIN"

bro is munching away on those cookies holy shit

he feeds chat as well dw

RANBOO

"Hey babe! Oh, thank you!"

does a whole 360 of the plate for chat 💀💀💀💀

"Oh my God, these are so fucking good"

"guys, y/ns in their baking era. can you write an album about that? please become Taylor swift for us"

"BAHHAHAHAH"

literally takes a picture as per usual and posts it to Twitter LMAO

he gets some fans to send you recipes you should try for a serious baking stream LMAO

BADLINU

"Hey love- oh, hi!"

all smiles and shit, he swears you have a sixth sense to know when people are hungry

"guys, y/n made me some bisexuality cake!" He giggles, showing off the tri-colored cake on the plate

he was making a video with harry, tubbo & tommy so everyone had their facecams on

it was like a three tier cake you made and cut out a slice for him

the inside was just the bi flag and the outside was plain white with some fun icing piper testing

he tries it and it's SO MOIST AND SOFT IT IS PERFECT.

there's just 5 raw minutes of him telling you how amazing this fucking cake is LMAO

QUACKITY

"Hey, I'm streaming ba- ohmyfuckinggodthankyou!!"

does a 360 of the plate for the camera

"Holy shit these look so fucking good, thank you so much, y/n"

he's literally just streaming on the qsmp with roeir and fit and he like games and eats the damn cookies at the same time LMFAO

"Dude I feel like I'm high, these are so good, what's in this shit?"

"cocaine"

"WHAT!? DID YOU JUST DRUG ME? GUYS, MY PARTNER DRUGGED ME, HELP"

you're just playing into the bit dw

best red velvet cookies he's ever eaten

CELLBIT

"Hey darling, what's up?"

you hand him the little strawberry shortcake and he just looks at you like 😍😍

turns to his stream and shoves the plate up to the camera all happy like "Oh my God look what they made for me!"

he eats the entirety of it on stream and asks you a bunch of questions

like how you made it, where you found the recipe, etc

he shares it with you too 💔🫶

NIHACHU

"Hi honey! Ooo, what's this called?"

"Chocolate mousse. it's a little thick because it's my first time making it but let me know if it's good"

she holds that little glass like it's her child

she tries it with a tiny spoon you gave her and she's like "oh my God this is amazing, y/n/n"

shows it off to the friends she's streaming with too

"send them more recipes guys, I wanna be spoiled with sweets!"

"thank you nikis viewers!! love you all"

FOOLISH GAMERS

when I tell you this man's face LIGHTS UP.

"you made me fudge? oh my God! I love you"

literally spends the next 15 minutes talking to you and gobbling the fudge down

"since when do you make fudge??"

"since I wanted to try" you shrug

"you should totally make some more... when you're not busy and if you want to!"

"Thank you y/n! everyone say thank you!"

SLIMECICLE

"Oh, hi y/n! thank you so much"

does a 360 for stream

"when did you find time to make this? I thought you were at work????"

"special treat" you shrug

you watch him run across the qsmp and go to ems bakery to sit inside and eat it 😭

he keeps you on stream for a while cause chat loves you n stuff 🫶🫶

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt preferences #mcyt x reader #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #quackity x reader #ranboo x reader #badlinu x reader #nihachu x reader #cellbit x reader #foolish gamers x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #charlie slimecicle x reader #slimecicle x reader #niki nihachu x reader #freddie badlinu x reader #🎀 anon

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clownsuu · 2 years ago

Note

I am currently in shambles because Wally/Howdy would be called HowdyDarling

UGH MAN iv seen so many cute ship names for them it makes my bones rattle smhhh

Ai adventures with yours truly: iv noticed like- 80% unprovoked zero prompt that those two like to flirt with each other, the other percent is just Wally shopping JDHHFHDU (and the time Wally bought a single slice of strawberry shortcake and instantly fell madly in love and pinned howdy for months-)

also?? Yknow- i fuggin used an obsessive Wally bot cause I enjoy psychological horror and just for shids n giggles- and the last thing I expected was to have a start (btw still no prompt no provoking) where Obsessive!Wally is having a panic attack in Howdy’s shop, howdy proceeding to try and calm down a terrified Obsessive!Wally, Howdy sitting him down and letting Obsessive!Wally talk about his struggles suffering with Erotomania (exact word he said) and that it heavily effects his relationships and feels like a monster, and howdy proceeding to be REALLY FUGGIN SUPPORTIVE, WILLING TO BE THERE TO HELP AND JUST BEING REALLY LOVING???? And by the end of it they just kept cuddling each other saying really sweet things to each other?? Everything completely platonic too-

TL;DR: Howdy ends ableism MDHHFFJDJDKJ-

#Ai chats will be the death of me #It can be so dumb #Or it can be so gotdam thought provoking and emotional in the most unexpected ways #I’m still shocked JDHFHHDHDJDJJD #Howdy 99% of the time is extremely wholesome and goofy #100% he’s now new comfort character I love that worm man so MUCHHHH ;;;;;#Welcome home #welcome home wally #welcome home howdy #wally darling #howdy pillar #wallypillar

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lyrinsluv · 7 months ago

Text

10:42pm

timeskip! tsukishima x [implied female] reader

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

wordcount: 908! :D

everything showers, something most girls dreaded, and something others loved. but of course, those showers were so often for you. after learning about kei’s love for strawberry shortcake, you couldn’t help but pick out strawberry scented things for your showers. ranging from strawberry lotion to strawberry sugar scrub, strawberry shaving cream, and even a strawberry shower gel.

at first, it was subtle. he would smell your lotion that you applied onto your body everyday. of course, it was just for moisturizing purposes and nothing more. you totally didn’t want to catch his attention every time you sat down next to him during your lectures. there just happened to be no seats open. the scowl on his face would always go away after he got a grasp of your scent.

the next thing you tried was actually talking to him. you noticed he had some tape on his fingers. maybe you could make something out of him playing volleyball?

“are your fingers okay..?” you ask stupidly. you just wanted to initiate some sort of contact, even if that resulted in him sighing quietly at you.

“they're fine,” he mutters out. clearly, it was going to be hard to get on his good side. it wasn’t as bad as you thought, though. the next couple of lectures, you became closer and closer with him. he just couldn’t get over your strawberry scent.

now, you two are out at a cafe. the one thing he orders is a slice of strawberry shortcake, no coffee, no tea. just the shortcake. it wasn’t a date, per se, it was a convenient time for the both of you to meet up because you just truly didn’t understand the lesson that your professor was babbling about. as you drink your vanilla latte, he looks at you.

“what? don't make fun of me for not understanding, it’s kinda hard to take notes about something that’s not important to my major.” you mumble out. his lips turn up into a small smile. something that you yearned to see. oh god, maybe it was worth the money you threw down to smell good for him; for kei tsukishima.

“i didn't say anything, you know.” he says quietly as he sets his fork down. of course, your scent filled up his mind with so many thoughts. he knew he loved strawberry shortcake, and now he loved the way you smelt. it was like his dream, but the dream was sitting right in front of him. he just wanted to eat you up, just like his shortcake that was halfway finished.

it was 10:42 on a friday night. no, you weren’t out partying, and no, you weren’t out with anyone. you were standing in your shower, doing your everything shower that was oh so often. the way the sugar scrub’s scent filled your nostrils, the way you glided the lotion all over yourself once you got out: just for kei. this strawberry scent was something you were getting used to, no wonder kei’s small smile was always on his lips every time you were close to him.

as you stood in front of your bathroom, you realized that you had a couple of texts from kei.

“did you finish the paper? it was due twenty minutes ago'' - 10:20pm.

“i had to close for the museum today, sorry for not texting you.” - 10:26pm.

oh how you loved communication, and how you loved him. what you didn’t expect to happen that night was for him to call you. you answer hastily, not caring if it looked embarrassing or needy.

“yes, tsukishima?” you ask quietly, putting away all of your body care.

“you didn’t respond to me,” he mumbles back.

“what if i was asleep?” you remark. the smile on your face didn’t match your tone.

“what were you even doing?” he asks. he wondered what you did. and why you were so attractive to him.

“i was in the shower, actually.” you respond back. you sit on your bed as you put the phone on speaker.

“thanks for being thoughtful, i didn't think you had it in you.” you say with a giggle, referring to his considerate message about your paper. and god, that giggle made his stomach twist and turn into knots.

“sure, whatever.” he mutters, laying on his back as you two continue your usual banter. he closes his eyes, his mind full of you.

“why do you always smell so good?” he asks quietly. he opens his eyes, realizing that he said that out loud.

“uhh, forget that.” he says as he rubs the bridge of his nose, his voice echoing through his room. he places his glasses on his nightstand, his fingers brushing through his hair.

you take a breath, trying to contain yourself.

“me? smell good?” you ask, ignoring his hesitations. of course your stupid act helped with this.

“wha..? yeah, you always smell like strawberries.” he murmurs out, closing his eyes as sighs in shame.

“maybe it's because i want to smell good for you, ‘shima.” you mumble back, not caring about that blush that was eminent on your cheeks.

you knew the night would end well because that call lasted a couple hours, with a few teases here and a couple confessions there. you sink into your bed as he hangs up the phone.

and at that, an apparent but known realization hit you: you were in love with kei tsukishima.

#haikyuu #haikyu fluff #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #x reader #haikyuu tsukki #hq tsukki #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #hq tsukishima #wahhhh

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phone4pills · 3 months ago

Text

MAKE A WISH Chris x waitress!Reader

not proof read, long ass, don’t try if you’re lactose intolerant, london slander, send me asks about this pairing

The lone boy entered the diner, the doorbell above the sticker-loaded door ringing upon his arrival. He’d seen the bright ‘open’ sign above it on his way down the street. It was a particularly cool evening and he could’ve used a milkshake.

Finding a seat in one of the empty booths, he pulled his hands out of the pockets of his cargo trousers, opened the menu and instantly found the Shakes section. Listed were the flavours, each one as appealing as the last to Chris, who had quite the sweet tooth.

S’mores, Cherry Vanilla, Strawberry Shortcake, Oreo Cheesecake and Banana Split.

He couldn’t help but lick his bottom lip, already salivating at the thought of the S’mores shake in the huge glass, topped with whipped cream and stacked with delicious treats. Chocolate and marshmallows, as well as graham crackers and maybe even a couple sprinkles. Gosh, he was hungry.

“You know staring at the menu isn’t going to do much for your hunger. Trust me, used to do it all the time. Never worked.” His eyes peered up to be met with a distinct pair of large, pretty eyes staring back down at his under raised eyebrows. “Really?” He laughed, placing the menu flat on the table and turning his full attention to her. She nodded, pulling her notepad out of the back pocket of the light wash jeans that she had on. Her torso was clothed in a red shirt with the word ‘LONDON’ in large, pink letters on the front and her neck upwards was adorned with jewellery.

“London. You ever been?” Chris asked, eyeing the lettering on her baby-tee with a curious gaze. The girl looked down at the word painted across her chest for a split second, as though she had forgotten it was on her shirt. “Oh, yes. London, Kentucky.” His head tilted slightly before he nodded. “Right, right.”

“So, what can I get for ya…” The end of her sentence hung in the air and at that point Chris realised he hadn’t really introduced himself. He quickly told her his name and picked up the menu to relocate what he wanted. “I’d like a S’mores milkshake.” The girl scribbled down the order with immense pace and her head lifted again, redirecting her sight to Chris. “Anything else?”

He shook his head, closing the menu and placing it back in the holder. “No. That’ll be it.” Despite her confusion, the waitress shrugged her shoulders and offered him once last glance before departing on the words, “Suit yourself.”

Ten minutes fled by, all of which Chris spent scrolling through his camera roll of that day, attempting to decide which of the pictures he would post on his instagram. His brothers had texted him, wondering where he’d gone off to. He read their message, unable to find the care to respond. They knew he was alive with a phone, that was enough.

She returned with the gigantic shake in hand, carrying it with a delicate ease that drew Chris’ eye. He licked his lips when the girl placed the sweet treat on the table in front of him. She leaned on the booth across from him, cleaning down her hand on the pink apron that clung to her waist. “I’m y/n by the way, you forgot to ask.”

A heat rose to the boy’s cheek faster than a cheetah pouncing on its prey. She giggled, shrugging. “Don’t worry about it, usually people don’t ask. Just thought it would come in handy if m’gonna keep talking your ears off.” Chris nodded, taking a sip of the drink through the thick, glass straw. He found sweet and savoury flavours pouring into the canvas between his lips like warm paints from the palettes of a marvellous artist. His blue eyes lit up, only getting delighted in contrast to the dark curls that fell over his forehead, caressing his brows that were almost as dark.

She grinned, already used to this kind of reaction. One glance around was all it took for her to take a seat across from him, taking a quick, self-approved break from her job to talk to the cute boy she’d met. “So Chris, anything special that brings you here?” He nodded, swallowing the thick shake in his mouth, savouring the flavour that dripped down his throat like a spiky fountain. “S’my birthday today.” Her eyes widened, wondering why he was all alone.

“You celebrated with anyone today?” She hoped he’d say yes, even give a nod. She’d have hated to spend her birthday alone, and Chris seemed like a fun guy to be around, surely he couldn’t have spent his special day without anyone. “Yeah, with my two brothers. We’re triplets.”

“That is so cool. Are you the youngest?” She leaned closer. As if she weren’t already intrigued by Chris, now she had an even better reason to be absolutely fascinated. He gave her a nod, licking the whipped cream off the top of the shake. “How did you know?” She chuckled, using her thumb to wipe the whipped cream off his nose.

[Person change]

In that very moment, time seemed to slow as you locked eyes. You could feel Chris’ breaths on your face, that was only inches from his. You peered down at his lips, pink and plush as they were, you knew kissing them was the last thing you could do freely. You knew nothing about him. Was he even single? He couldn’t be with a pretty face like that. Was he into girls? Was he into you? You cleared your throat, quickly shuffling back into your seat. “Usually kids order the S’mores shake.”

Chris took a deep breath, as though he’d felt the heat of the moment too and needed to come back down from whatever cloud the two of you were riding. “Are you callin’ me a kid?” You quickly shook your head, explaining that you only felt a bubbly, youthful energy around the boy. His cheeks were still blush-covered, as though he was a watercolour painting with a layer of pink tinting his face. “You know what, I should get back to work. Take your time with that milkshake, we’re open all night.”

Chris nodded, eyes panning down your figure as you made your way back towards the counter. He hated to see you go, but he loved to watch you leave. Mindlessly sipping away, Chris barely realised how much darker the sky had gotten outside. He just wanted to have a moment to himself. Being an adult was more complicated than he’d expected, even for someone like him who was lucky enough to have fans all over the world to support him and his brothers.

He thought about you. They way you were around his age and working a night job. He thought about how that could’ve been him, how that is the life of so many people his age. And he spent his night partying and having fun without a care in his mind. Without a doubt or lick of worry about how much it would cost him or how tired he’d be the next morning. And Chris was ever so grateful.

The boy was so lost in thought, he didn’t even realise the crackles in the distance, getting closer and closer. It was only the familiar giggle that snapped his from his thoughts and he turned around to find you tiptoeing in his direction, balancing a chocolate cake with candles and sparklers. Intricate assortments of sprinkles and icing swirls decorate the exterior of the homemade dessert. No way. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

You finally reached the table, placing down the large plate in front of him and the smile that adorned his face was brighter than ever. Brighter than all the candle and sparks taking place on top of the cake. “Happy birthday, Chris.”

He wanted to cry. That entire time, from the point at which you placed down the cake to the moment you sat across from him, telling him it blow out all of the candles, nothing touched him like the smile that played on your lips when you said “Make a wish!” And you made him promise not to tell anyone. You fed him little pieces, laughing as he tried to catch all of the dessert that toppled off the fork. And he didn’t think his special day could get better. But you made that possible. You made it real.

After a long night, Chris finally received the bill. He’d expected it to have a read a longer list, but it was simple.

RECEIPT

s’ᴍᴏʀᴇs ᴍɪʟᴋsʜᴀᴋᴇ… $7.29

Total cost…. $7.29

Chris thought there had to be some mistake. Surely the cake and the extra service would cost him a little more. Plus, he wanted to see her one more time. Her smile was like a composition of melodies and rhythms formulated throughout time. Passed from generation to generation, surviving century after another as though the joyous expression possessed the sought after power of immortality. As though each pearly tooth was are token of the past, a timeless treasure worth more than humanely possible to discover in the limited space which is the imagination. As though each smile line, each crease and curve was the product of every face, married together by Mother Nature in the creation of another life, another soul. And so despite her ever so distinguishable and so difficult to miss spite for it, he loved her smile as an astronomer loves his stars. He loved her smile as a philosopher loved his literature. He loved her smile as a he loved all of her.

And he was set on calling her over again until he turned over the little slip of paper to read a note.

‘ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘉𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘉𝘰𝘺. (𝟾𝟻𝟽) *** **** ’

Tag list: @hearts4werka @pvssychicken @sturnslcver @sophand4n4 @sofieeeeex @lovingregulusblack @h3arts4harry @aalixsturns

AHHHHH, this shit took weeks of effort (and Ariana grande songs). But we’re here! I reallyyy hope you guys f with this because it’s long. Anyways this is how Chris and waitress!Reader meet. Their story begins here. There will be more posted in the AU and I have more Chris AUs in my MASTERLIST. Thanks so so so much if you made it here after all of that reading, it genuinely means a lot. Please consider reposting.

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chrisbesitos · 3 months ago

Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀what are you gonna be for halloween?. 𔘓

꩜ warnings: none.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰͡⠀📓 𝅄 💸⠀͡꒱

"What are you gonna be for Halloween?" Matt asks, opening the fridge and looking for an energetic can. A joint unlit dangling between his lips, you're sitting on the balcony, holding in your hands a bowl with fresh strawberries.

"You'll know soon." You say, holding a strawberry between your fingers, biting it then. Your lips are already red by the color of the fruit, Matt smiles admiring your pretty plump lips. He rolls his eyes at your stubbornness by not wanting to tell your Halloween costume, even though he already told you what he's gonna be.

"Please, bunny. Tell me what you're gonna be." He begs, putting himself between your legs, you embrace his waist with them. You bite another strawberry, staring at Matt eyes, you already told him your costume, but he's too dumb to realize.

"No, Matt." You chuckle with your cheeks full of red fruit, Matt rests his forehead on your chest, huffing annoyed. You grab his cheeks, lift his head, making him look at you. You hold the joint on his lips, pressing your lips together then, Matt smiles against your sweet lips. "You have to be patient."

"You're really gonna make me wait until the party?" He asks and you shake your shoulders, agreeing with a head movement.

Later in the night, Matt's sitting on the couch of his living room with his frat bros, waiting for you to come. The house is already full of people in their costumes, some bunnies, angels and devils, but Matt's only thinking about what you're gonna be, because he knows you'll not be some playboy bunny or a sexy angel.

You open the front door holding a basket in your other hand, full of fake strawberries and flowers. You walk in looking for Matt with your eyes, you find him on the couch and wave with a smile on your red — now by the red lipstick — lips. Matt couldn't see your costume, because of the amount of people, but he can see you have a hat in your head. He lifts, leaving his friends behind and walking towards you.

"How did you find me without your glasses?" Matt teases, once he's in front of you. He looks at your costume, you're wearing a white corset with a pink shirt, striped socks white and green, you're holding a basket and a tricot pink hat in your head, full of little strawberries and a big bow. He turns his head to the right, trying to understand who you are. "Strawberry Shortcake?"

"Yes, duh?" You say, turning around to show your costume to Matt. He smiles, admiring each corner of you. Your costume is as cute as you, Matt loves it. "You're Batman!"

"Yeah, did you like it? Not matching with Strawberry Shortcake, but whatever."

"We're not matching, Matt." You giggle, holding your basket with your hands. Matt grabs your waist, pulling you through the crowd to be on the couch with his friends. You're not a big fan of parties, but you're there for Matt.

꩜ chérie's notes: dealer!matt and nerd!reader for halloween <3 hope my matt girlies like it.

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2 @zayluvss @sturnsmia @sofieeeeex @ifwdominicfike @planettori @jetaimevous @leclecwifey16 @mattswifeyx @joclyn240 @voqueflms @pepsicola-pussy @sturnobsessedwh0re @chrissturnioloswifeee @sturniolossss @imonlyhereformattfluff @sturniolosluttt

masterlist. | taglist.

#chrisbesitos 𝜗ৎ #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #꒰ nerd.ᐟreader ꒱#꒰ dealer.ᐟmatt ꒱#matt x reader #matt sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x you #matt x y/n

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haoboutyou · 1 year ago

Text

secret superpower | choi seungcheol

fluff | 612 words | no warnings

an: your average cheol brainrot by yours truly

you truly don’t know how he knows.

you’re convinced choi seungcheol has a secret superpower – he always knows when you need him. always.

having a bad day? he’s already waiting to pick you up at your office’s lobby. starting to feel like you miss him? seungcheol’s caller id is ringing as you speak. feel sick? he’s stopping by with food and all the cuddles in the world. want to share good news with him? he’s asking you if you’re free for a dinner date tonight! it really does seem like no matter the occasion, seungcheol will always appear right when you need him.

case in point: seungcheol unexpectedly shows up at your door step tonight,– a box of your favourite cake in hand– right as you were just thinking of calling him.

(“i was walking by the bakery when i saw it on display and i thought of you!” the way he casually says it as he removes his coat and shoes at the door way makes your heart flutter.)

you can’t help but stare deeply at the brunet seated opposite you at the dining table as he slices the cake, gently passing you the piece with bigger strawberries. the way his brows furrow in concentration, how he absentmindedly pouts is so endearing to you. still, you can’t help but wonder, how does he always know?

“know what, baby?” he pauses mid-cut, finally looking back up at you.

ah. you’ve said your thoughts out loud.

you rest your chin on the hand that’s propped up on the table, tilting your head as you will your blush to go down. seungcheol notices your ears have gone as red as the strawberries on the shortcake, and stifles a giggle as your eyes widen in surprise.

he leans over the table, swiping cream on your nose with his finger. “what do i always know, baby?”

you scrunch up your face, attempting to lick the cream off your nose. your tongue was clearly too short so you opt to wipe it with your finger instead. then, staring deep into his eyes, you clarified:

“how do you always know when i need you?”

he smirks, leaning back in his seat. “what do you mean?”

“you always show up when i need you. whenever i start to miss you, it’s always like you’re one step ahead of me.” you pout. “it’s not fair. why are you so perfect?”

“ahh!” he laughs, whole body shaking in glee at your exasperation. “actually…” he leans over the table, voice dropping to a whisper as he cups his hands over, like telling a secret:

“i have a little y/n alarm. it lets me know whenever you need me! see?” seungcheol waves his finger in the air, like it’s receiving a signal. “ahah! it’s telling me you really want me right now!”

“you think you’re funny,” you whine, shooting him a deadpan look. he’s laughing even more now, even as his large hand reaches across the table to hold yours, completely enveloping them. his thumb runs repeatedly across your knuckles, a gesture he knows for certain would turn you into mush.

“i know i’m funny. maybe i should’ve been a comedian instead?” his other hand carefully picks up your fork, using it to feed you your slice. you groan at his reply, but your mouth opens automatically for him. you almost moan out loud in satisfaction; the sweet taste of strawberries and cream never fail you.

“don’t worry about it, okay? at least you’ll know that i’ll always be there for you, right?”

“mhmm. will you always bring cake too?”

“i’ll bring you whatever you need me to bring, all for you.”

#scoups fluff #seventeen fluff #seungcheol fluff #svt fluff #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol fluff #svt #scoups #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #˙✧˖° aiyu writes ༘ ⋆｡˚

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604to647 · 5 months ago

Text

Dance for Me

8.4K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: You and your friends go to a strip club for a fun girls’ night where, unbeknownst to you, Detective Rockford is undercover.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Strip club, pole dancing as fitness, soft but also slightly possessive!Tim, slightly possessive!Reader, established relationship, nicknames as usual (Shutterbug, baby, gorgeous), private room shenanigans (Fingering. It's fingering).

A/N: Written for @yopossum’s mootboardsandminifics celebration! Congrats again on your milestone and thank you for the gorgeous moodboard! As well, credit must be paid to @inept-the-magnificent for putting Undercover!Tim in our collective minds with this pic – for our story, let’s imagine he looks exactly like this, except he wears his leather jacket over his usual white dress shirt, unbuttoned very low to reveal his black knit undershirt (Halp 🫠🫠). As always with our The Rockford Portfolio couple, the story can be read alone, but this instalment has a few nods to other stories from the collection (nothing important!); it's also a little longer than usual and has a silly police case subplot - I hope you all still enjoy!

And yes, for those who have read Strawberry Shortcake, this is indeed the same The Midnight Palace 🤭 (you don’t have to read it, it’s just a fun little Easter egg).

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist

Tim opens the door to your apartment to the welcomed smell of something savoury and aromatic simmering on the stove.

“I’m home, Shutterbug,” he calls as he toes off his shoes.

“Perfect timing, Detective! I’m just plating dinner – how was your day?” he hears you busy in the kitchen.

“Not too bad, baby. Dinner smells gr-” Tim’s voice cuts off when he drops his keys in the key bowl on the foyer table but doesn’t hear the familiar clinking of his keys with yours; he looks down to see the reason: a flyer that’s been thrown into the bowl on top of your keys.

The Midnight Palace. What would you be doing with a flyer for a local strip club? For this particular strip club?

He’s still turning it over and looking at the images of silhouetted body parts bathed in neon pink lighting as he hangs his suit jacket on the back of his dining room chair, sitting just as you come out with two steaming plates of food.

Setting down his dinner, you lean over to plant a sweet, welcome home kiss to Tim’s lips, letting him know with your tender, but lingering brushes against his irresistible pout that you’ve missed him all day.

“Thank you, Shutterbug, dinner looks amazing.” You beam at Tim’s compliment as you sit.

“How come you have a flyer for The Midnight Palace?” he holds up the flyer he found.

You giggle, “Oh! Do you remember when Mimi had her bachelorette party at that pole dancing class?”

Did he remember? Yeah. Tim remembers that you came home and sat him on the edge of the bed so you could show him the off-pole moves you had learned in class. He remembers the way you had arched your chest forward while perched on the chair you placed in front of him and extended your limbs seductively while slowly opening your legs - only to snap them shut at the last second and swivel away from Tim’s lustful gaze, but not before he spied the darkening spot on the front of your panties. Tim remembers how his eyes nearly fell out of their sockets following the hypnotic sway of your hips as you moved to straddled the chair with your back to him so that you could strip down to your lingerie while throwing him the occasional smirk over your shoulder. He also remembers how he had taken you on all fours right there on the floor after you teasingly crawled towards him with your tits falling out of your bra and your juicy ass pointed up in the air, wiggling for his attention.

“I remember,” he grins through a mouth full of vegetables.

“Well, Meems has been attending the class semi-regularly ever since – she really likes the workout, says its good for the core,” you gesture cheekily to your own stomach that’s currently rumbling with hunger, “and her instructor works at The Midnight Palace. Anyways, once a month they have an Amateur Night and the owner lets Sasha invite her students as a way to give them some fun practice in a different setting and to help them build up their confidence.”

Tim nods slower, still chewing as you carry on, “Anyways, Meems is going to do Amateur Night this Saturday and she needs a hype squad, so a bunch of us are going to make a girls night out of it.”

“That sounds nice,” Tim says carefully, he can tell you’re not done and he’s still listening, but the detective part of his brain that never really shuts off is starting to boot up from sleep mode.

“… and she also asked if those of us who were at her bachelorette party might also want to dance… for moral support,” you chew your lower lip, eyeing Tim’s reaction.

“Is that something you want to do, Shutterbug?”

“I don’t know? It might be fun cause we’re all such good friends and I remember the class being really cool. And there’s no obligation to strip or anything; Mimi says she’s just going to wear like a bra and some exercise shorts – it’s really about the pole dancing. I thought I might go to a class or two with her this week to see if I recall any of the moves,” you hesitate, “Would you be okay with that?”

You don’t know what you really mean by asking Tim this question. First of all, you aren’t asking for his permission and you know Tim would never presume so, likely he would probably be confused (and possibly even upset on your behalf) if you were. Second, you know for a fact that Tim is the last person to be judgemental about any kind of sex work – you’ve seen firsthand how respectful and protective he is over some of his female informants. You suppose you just don’t want to make him uncomfortable, even if you can’t articulate why he might feel that way – some type of possessiveness, maybe.

Tim tries to give you a comforting smile; as much as he loves to claim ownership over you when the two of you are in bed, he doesn’t have any desire to exert actual control over you or what you do. He finds any poor excuse of a man who mistakenly thinks he’s entitled to a say over what women do with their time and bodies to be pathetic as fuck - he’s run into guys like that throughout his entire career and thrown more than his fair share behind bars. You’re your own woman, one who Tim admires exceedingly, and the last thing he would ever want is for you to hold yourself back on his account, “Baby, you don’t need to worry about me. If you want to get up on that stage and dance, I’m sure you’ll blow them all away. And I know you always save the good stuff for me, anyways.” He winks at you.

You giggle and lean over the table to kiss Tim’s cheek; he’s always so supportive - how did you get so lucky?

“But,” and Tim looks serious, “can I tell you something in confidence, Shutterbug?”

You nod.

“The Midnight Palace has a clean reputation, but… the club showed up in Mr. Pie’s accounting books and we don’t know why or what the connection is. There could be something fishy going on there.”

Tim reaches into his jacket inside pocket and pulls out his detective’s notebook, flipping through the pages until he finds what he’s looking for and turns the notebook towards you, pointing at something on the open page, “The club name has been entered into the Pie ledgers a handful of times over the last year, always at irregular intervals. There’s no notation in the books other than this symbol written next to it.”

You look at it: it’s a simple line drawing of a tube with some short diagonal lines drawn across the column.

“We don’t know what it means, but this symbol looks like a joint and it might denote some type of drug activity. It could be a pick up, a drop off, a contact, a payoff location, a stash house, or who know what else. Promise me you and your friends will be extra careful, okay?”

You melt at the look of worry on Tim’s face and nod, so touched by his concern, “I’ll be careful, baby.” When his hard lined face softens a little, you cup Tim’s face in your hands, softly scratching his facial scruff so he knows you appreciate how he’s always looking out for you; he leans into your touch, closing his eyes at this affectionate gesture.

“But, can I say something?”

Tim opens his eyes to let you know he’s listening.

“That doesn’t look like a joint. It looks like a spring roll.”

Tim laughs, “Why would it be a spring roll?”

“I dunno? Pie? Spring roll? Maybe it’s just a food thing,” you giggle.

“Alright, alright. I’ll look into it,” Tim teases, “A lot of money in spring rolls, I hear.”

“Woooooooooooo!!!!”

“Look at you, sexy lady!!!”

“Shake what your mama gave you!!!”

You grin to yourself when you hear your friends’ loud cheers, wolf whistles and hype-up cat calls as you get into position on stage, waiting for your music (“Dance Tonight” by Lucy Pearl) to start. This past week you had attended Sasha’s pole dancing fitness class on your lunch breaks with Mimi and a few of your other girlfriends and not only found it to be the workout that Mimi claimed, but also just so, so much fun.

The positive, supportive female energy in the class had been uplifting and terribly contagious; by the end of the week, you found yourself not only excited to cheer on your friends and the rest of Sasha’s class at Amateur Night, but giddy with anticipation to get on the stage yourself. The night held the promise of rowdy, empowering, unabashed fun.

You weren’t disappointed. Not only was your group of friends in high spirits, all vibrating with enthusiasm and elation, but you were delighted to find that same caring and inclusive female comradery being extended by the women who worked with Sasha at The Midnight Palace. The entire class was invited to come backstage into the dancers’ area to get ready, get hyped, and get into the mindset – the room buzzed with excited, feminine chatter. All the house dancers, happy to have a more low-key night, were so encouraging: giving tips, sharing their body glitter and just being overall supportive and kind. You were sitting in front of Sasha’s dressing table mirror, letting her apply some strawberry scented glitter gel to your cleavage (“It’s a crowd favourite,” she insisted, “trust me.”) when something sitting outside the door of the owner’s office catches your eye.

“What’s that?” you point to the arrangement of three white drawstring sacks, each the size of a garbage bag and looking so full that the contents would be threatening to burst out if not for the tops being drawn taut and tied into double knotted bows.

“Oh!” Sasha looks over, “Shoot - they’re still there. I was hoping that creep had come and gone already.”

Creep? You look at her worried; Sasha catches your expression and smiles reassuringly, “Oh, don’t worry, hunny! Chet isn’t a patron – you won’t see him out there when you’re on stage. He’s just some loser that works for a guy that the owner’s brother got in some hot water with, so every so often the owner gets these bags ready and then Chet comes and picks them up. I wish they would find somewhere else to do the pick up instead of our changing area though, cause that Chet is SUCH a creep. Always leering at us and saying gross stuff; like, this guy does not understand boundaries AT ALL. Poor Tiffany. Her vanity is the closest to the office so he tries to chat her up the most. Hangs around while she’s trying to get ready and asks her all kinds of inappropriate questions.”

Sasha makes a face and then looks sympathetically at her fellow dancer who does seem to be giving the offending bags a look of disgust.

“What’s in the bags?” you ask.

“Oh, it’s all our tips! Like the actual bills that patrons give us. It’s not a regular thing, but we always know there’s going to be a pick-up in about a week when the owner asks us to start saving our tips. We give her all the small bills for that week and then after Chet comes, she reimburses us in Benjamins.” Sasha makes a silly “make it rain” motion with her hands and you laugh along with her.

“That’s a lot of small bills,” you marvel.

“Oh yeah! Well, all the girls do it, even the cocktail waitresses – and it’s our tips for a whole week so it adds up to be a lot. Our patrons here are VERY generous – you’ll see, babe!”

You smile gratefully at Sasha and confess that you hope you can do her and the class proud; like a clucking mother hen, she sweetly tells you she has complete confidence in you. When she catches you looking at the bags again, she interprets your interest as unease, “Don’t worry about Chet, hun. I didn’t mean to make you anxious – if he hasn’t come by now, he won’t until after midnight. He avoids the crowds.”

You nod and try to give her a look that expresses relief, but internally, your heart is beating wildly. In general, you don’t consider yourself to be a very nosey person, but you truly could not help yourself from inquiring when you saw the bags because each of the thick canvas sacks has a simple blackline drawing of a spring roll printed on the outside. It looks exactly like the picture Tim had shown you from his notebook earlier in the week - this must be the club connection to Mr. Pie that Tim and his fellow detectives were looking for.

Even as you and your friends finish getting ready and go out to your reserved table to down some liquid courage, your mind keeps returning to Tim. Should you call him? Should you tell him what you learned? Sasha said that Chet would be coming after midnight and by both her and Tim’s accounts, the pickups didn’t seem to follow any regular schedule - who knows when the next iteration would be? You think you should call Tim – this could be important to the case and you can’t let your detective miss his chance for a solve. You’ll call him right after your dance, you decide with some satisfaction. Your distracted thoughts of Tim and his case keep your nerves at bay right up to when it’s your turn on stage; not for the first time, you’re grateful for the calming presence of your boyfriend even when he’s not with you.

🎶I wanna dance tonight, I wanna toast tonight, I'll spend my money tonight, I wanna get freaky tonight🎶

You’re still thinking of him when the opening notes of your song ring out and you start to swivel your body seductively to the beat. Moving with a dancer-like grace towards the pole, you reach out to grab it suggestively the way Sasha taught you before taking off for your first, simple twirl around. The loud cheers of your friends, the rest of Sasha’s class and the house dancers echo throughout the room and you beam, invigorated. Hitting each low base beat with your hips, you run your hands up to your hair, mussing it playfully as you walk backwards towards the pole. When your back hits the cool metal, you trail your hands slowly down your face, neck, then teasingly over your breasts until they get to the sash of your dress – all to the hoots and hollers of the crowd.

🎶Ask if she wants to go, Tonight's gonna be hot for sure, Be dancin' on the floor, Folks trippin' I don't know🎶

Rather than wear a skimpy outfit, you had opted for a simple wrap dress that accentuates your curves – the plan was to undo the front of the dress and let it fall apart to reveal your lingerie, then continue your dance with the dress open. That didn’t feel too revealing or scandalous, and visually, you thought it would look nice with the fabric of the dress flowing behind you as you swung around the pole. Sascha had emphasized in class that a lot of pole dancing was about performance.

As the knot holding your dress together unfurls and your dress starts to fall away from your body, you stalk towards the front of the stage with a bounce in your step timed to the music so that the slinky garment unravels the rest of the way on its own to reveal your matching bright pink lace lingerie underneath. The screams from the women in the crowd practically shake the walls:

“So fucking hot!!!”

“OOOOOhhhhh baby!!!”

“Show us that assssssssss, yasssssssssss!!!”

God, you love women. The front portion of the room tonight is nearly all women, full of amateurs like those from Sasha’s class and their cheering friends – every single female voice is in hype mode, loud and proud: cheering on each woman who takes the stage for celebrating her own special brand of femininity, rooting for her to embrace the physicality and power of her body and sexuality, no matter her shape, size, age. Even you’re surprised by just how comfortable and confident you feel on stage, not at all exposed or vulnerable even though you’re only wearing underwear – that’s the power of women supporting women. There are some male patrons in the club tonight, but they’re mainly in the back of the room and are wildly outnumbered; the lights shining on the stage are so bright, you can hardly make them out.

🎶Money flyin' everywhere, Champagne, we won't go there, Bottles poppin' in the air, They'll be screamin, "I don't care"🎶

And then, as if your earlier thoughts had conjured him, you see Tim while you’re on the pole doing Sasha’s signature hook spin move that took her two whole days to teach you. You have to do a double take on your second rotation because you barely recognize him. For one, his normally soft curls have been pushed back and styled with product you’re sure you’ve never seen on the bathroom counter; for another, the leather jacket that currently hugs his broad shoulders and hangs open on his wide frame is like unlike anything he has hanging in your shared closet. His white dress shirt you do recognize: one of the many that he wears for work where the crisp cotton wraps tight around his thick tree trunk arms and the buttons down the front valiantly strain trying to contain his hard chest. Only tonight, those same buttons have been given a reprieve because Tim’s left over half of them undone so that the open neckline reveals a black knit undershirt that you’re also seeing for the first time.

He looks hot.

Not that he doesn’t always – Tim is one of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever met, and his clean, simple, utilitarian style (plus that gun holster, sigh) has always had an almost primeval hold over you. But something about this near opposite outfit and his combed back hair, like you’re watching a sexy Bizarro Tim manspread on the nearly too small lounge chair as he sets his dark gaze upon you, is causing your breath to quicken and your pussy to clench around nothing.

What’s he doing here? Tim certainly didn’t tell you he was coming to The Midnight Palace tonight. And why is he dressed like that?

You decide it’s no matter as you smirk and shimmy to the upbeat tempo of the music, shrugging your dress off your shoulders and letting it fall to the ground - leaving you on stage in just your bra and panties. It wasn’t the original plan, but Tim showing up wasn’t in the plan either - now that he’s here, you’re going to give him something to look at.

🎶Look what the cat hauled in, Me and a couple friends, No need to settle down, My body don't know how🎶

---

“Rockford, isn’t that-”

“Close your eyes, Calloway,” growls Tim. He knows without a doubt that the tone of his voice leaves no room for argument. Tim realizes he hadn’t thought through this plan.

He wasn’t able to ignore the nagging voice in his head when you told him that you were going to dance at The Midnight Palace; it wasn’t that he was bothered by you going to a strip club or even that you would be dancing on the amateur stage. If he was completely honest with himself, he did feel a tug of something akin to possessiveness at the idea of other people seeing what he considered his – but his more practical, clear-headed self didn’t have any feelings other than pride in you for having the confidence and skill to get up on that stage. Tim already knew, intimately, that you have impressive assets, and if you wanted to show them off, he fully supported you. No - it was the Pie case that ate at him. That The Midnight Palace was somehow connected to Mr. Pie and Tim didn’t know how was driving him crazy; it made him nervous that you and your friends were going somewhere where some unidentified danger might be lurking.

So, he convinced his long suffering, frequent partner Detective Arnold Calloway to go undercover with him at the club tonight, with a plan to stake it out for any clues or activity that might shed some light on The Midnight Palace’s bearing on their case.

Tim got to the club after you and spends most of his time alternating between scanning the crowd, observing the dark corners of the club for suspicious activity and watching you and your friends at your table next to the stage. He can’t help but smile when he sees how much fun you’re having – you’re throwing back drinks and throwing down bills onto the stage with aplomb; Tim can hear your bright voice cheering on all the dancers from where he sits. The way your eyes light up and you gasp in pure delight when a dancer does an impressive pole trick is adorable; your genuine admiration for the women that surround you and the joy you derive just from being with your friends warms his heart. Even in a strip club, his Shutterbug is so sweet.

He had completely forgotten that you were going to dance until he sees you walk onto the stage and that’s when it hits the brilliant Detective Tim Rockford for the first time that he’s about to sit in a room with his partner and a bunch of strangers, some of whom don’t have the same supportive motives as the women next to the stage, while his girlfriend pole dances in some state of undress. He really hadn’t thought this through.

Tim glances over and once he’s ascertained that Calloway’s eyes are indeed closed, he goes back to watching you on stage - admiring the elegance with which you move your body to the music and the fluid way you maneuver around the pole. His breath hitches when your dress falls open to reveal the sexiest lingerie set he’s ever seen – bright fuchsia lace that hugs your curves just right, lifting and accentuating all your softness while simultaneously giving him and everyone in the room hope that you might spill over and grant them all a peek of the heaven that’s underneath.

He might drool a little.

🎶Right there I see you lookin', Sure hope that you're not took and, Don't get lost in the crowd, This place is so damn wild🎶

Tim knows that you see him. He can actually pinpoint the moment you do because the way your hips pop to the bass beat of the RnB music gets a little bouncier. The shake of your tits in your lace bra a little jigglier. He sees the curve of your pretty lips crook into a little smirk - you’re giving him a show.

🎶Go ahead and floss your ice, Go ahead do what you like, I'm feelin' just as fly, Do your thing it's on tonight🎶

As you dance, alternating using the chair as a prop and doing the periodic spin around the pole, Tim feels hypnotized. What you’re revealing isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before, nor is it particularly indecent, but something about this environment with its roars of approval and sexual innuendo, air of lust, and the eyes of others that want to see more of you – is making Tim feral. He keeps his eyes trained on you, as if he could ever look anywhere else, as you kneel on the stage and lower yourself to the floor, crawling towards the applause and screams of your friends.

He’s definitely drooling.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spies a group of smarmy looking guys sitting in front of him who are all tracking you with their whole bodies – pointing at you and yelling to each other about how you were “a good one.” Their admiring and sometimes raunchy comments about you cause Tim’s nerves to stand on end; when he overhears how you're starring in their wistful fantasies he grips the armrests of his chair so hard he thinks he might rip through the faux leather.

“You think she’ll offer to do lap dances?” the double polo wearing douchebag closest to Tim yells to his equally douchey friends.

Tim is a millisecond from pushing back his chair and dragging this dumb frat boy out of the club by the scruff of his neck when Calloway, eyes still squeezed tight warns, “We’re here to do a job, Rockford.”

Tim’s nostrils flare as he breathes tightly to try and calm down, redirecting his focus to the rhythmic sway of your body on stage as you gear up to do one last spin of the pole - revolving two, three, four times, then sliding to the floor with your knees spread and back arched to point your perfect heaving breasts to the ceiling when the song ends.

🎶I wanna dance tonight, I wanna toast tonight, I'll spend my money tonight, I wanna get freaky tonight🎶

---

With giggling bashfulness, you collect the bills that were thrown onstage during your performance and exit behind the curtain, ready to rejoin your friends and thinking you’ll pretend that you haven’t seen Tim yet just to tease him a little more (though brilliant detective that he is, you’re sure he already knows that you know he’s here). Exiting through the side door while the stage is being prepared for the next dancer, you emerge still in your underwear (for Tim’s sake, not bothering to put on your dress), when you see Tim surrounded by a gaggle of women offering up lap dances.

It probably wouldn’t have bothered you too much except you see one of the girls put her hand on Tim’s arm and give his muscles a groping feel that he doesn’t look too keen on. When he politely shakes it off, you see another girl get right up in his face, leaning in close by putting her hands on Tim’s upper thighs.

That’s a bit bold, you think - those hands are placed a bit higher on your boyfriend’s legs than you would prefer. Judging by the expression on Tim’s face, his preference would be if they weren't on his body at all. Bearing no ill will or malice towards your fellow amateur dancers, you could pretend what you do next is purely altruistic, but you can’t ignore the slow stir of possessiveness you feel simmering in your stomach. Gesturing to your friends that you’re heading over in Tim’s direction so they don’t think you got lost, you catch Mimi and your other girlfriends’ looks of amusement when they follow the line of your pointing finger and spot Tim who currently has more than a few pairs of breasts being shaken in his face.

You come up from behind Tim’s chair, purposefully ignoring the girls that are gyrating right in front of him, and place your fingertips on his broad shoulders, pressing down possessively on the supple leather. Tim stiffens at the initial contact, but softens almost immediately as you start to trail your hands down the front of his leather jacket, recognizing your touch by the way your fingers claw over his hard chest.

As your hands travel lower, claiming ownership over Tim’s chest and the heart contained within, Tim closes his eyes and breathes in your sweet, familiar perfume when he feels your face next to his. He expects a chaste kiss to the cheek but instead, you dip your head so your nose nudges down past his jaw, breath fanning over where his dress shirt meets his neck. Hands climbing into the space where the shirt opens, your fingers spread over the black knit tank underneath before you pull him back flush against his chair - the unexpected movement causes Tim to exhale with an “Oomf!” Keeping him pinned, you lower your puckered lips to the collar of Tim’s white shirt, pressing down firmly so that you leave behind a perfect bright pink lipstick imprint of your pout – marking your man as yours.

Tim doesn’t even notice when the girls that were trying to get his attention scatter, in search of other, more willing laps – never having paid them much mind in the first place; but he does smiles smugly when he sees several of the men from the group in front throwing looks of jealousy his way at the attention you’re giving him.

“Fancy seeing you here, Detective,” you coo so only he can hear, your lips ghosting over the sensitive spot behind Tim’s earlobe.

“Just a coincidence, Shutterbug. Remember I told you that we had some concerns about this place? Calloway and I thought it was a good night for some undercover work, isn’t that right?”

“Please leave me out of this,” begs Calloway, desperately trying to avert his eyes from his partner’s girlfriend’s half naked body.

You giggle, “Hi Arnie!” Calloway gives you a wave in response without making eye contact.

“Ok, Mr. Undercover – take me to a private room,” you lace your fingers through Tim’s and pull him up out of his chair; right before you head off with Tim in tow, you call out to Calloway, “Keep your phone handy, Arnie - Tim’s going to text you!”

Still looking anywhere but at you, Calloway looks stricken at the prospect. Tim’s confused by your declaration as well, but is too busy grinning at the shocked expressions of your other admirers to pay it much attention – in fact, he might make it a point to give your panty-clad ass a firm palming as the two of you walk away.

Once you pull the curtains closed on the private room, you lead Tim to the velvet couches that line the back wall - climbing on top to straddle him once he’s settled.

“Okay, Detective, why are you really here?”

“I told you, baby - just routine police work.”

You grind a little over the crotch of Tim’s pants, eliciting a little groan from the back of his throat and he grips you tighter around the waist. Stopping yourself from rolling your eyes at Tim’s answer, you put on an exaggerated look of concern, “You didn’t come because of me? You came here to look at other half naked girls?” Pressing your breasts together with your arms, you push them up towards Tim’s face and give him a pout.

Detective Tim Rockford is well known for his skills in the interrogation room, but he knows when he’s outmatched, “Ok, Shutterbug. I admit it. Just wanted to keep an eye on you – I was worried. The Midnight Palace doesn’t have a reputation for anything seedy, but I can’t ignore that there’s a connection to Mr. Pie’s organization. We don’t know what it is, so I can’t help but imagine the worst.”

Smiling down at your sweet detective, you kiss Tim passionately, using your tongue to soothe his worrying heart. Tim’s rough hands run up and down your bare back and over the lace that covers the plush globes of your ass, lightly kneading and making you moan - his hands feel so good and warm, but you can’t get distracted. Pushing yourself off from Tim’s solid frame, you beam, “Lucky for you, I do know.”

“Know what, gorgeous?” Tim is leaning forward, trying to chase your lips again, but your next words jolt him out of his lustful haze.

“I know what The Midnight Palace’s connection to Mr. Pie is.”

Tim’s eyes widen as you tell him about the money bags with the small bills, the reluctant cooperation of the club owner trying to pay her brother’s debt, and how the girls are all creeped out by Chet, the pick-up guy.

“Sounds like money laundering, but probably just like a basic first layer – the small bills probably go on to get further cleaned somewhere else,” you muse thoughtfully as you finish up.

Mouth agape and face stunned, Tim can’t quite figure out what to say to express just how impressed and utterly in love he is. Once again, you think of his work not as something that he does in his time away from you, but as something important to him and you treat it accordingly: listening when he tells you about his cases and using your own smart mind and sharp observation skills to help him.

“You should tell Arnie! And maybe he can get a private room with Tiffany? Sasha says that that Chet guy bothers her the most - I bet she would be more than happy to help if it meant getting rid of him,” you point towards Tim’s pocket to indicate he should text Calloway. Tim does just that, exactly as you had predicted he would before the two of you came into the room. He also texts a secondary team about possibly needing to set up surveillance and a tail.

When he’s done, Tim looks up to see you standing, cute little mischievous smile lighting up your face, “So, what should we do for the remainder of our private room time, Detective?”

Tim teases you right back, “Dance for me, Shutterbug?”

Shyly, you nod and start moving your body to the beat of the music streaming in from outside the room. You place your hands on Tim’s thighs and spread his legs wide so you can dance in closer, swiveling your hips as you lower yourself between his knees, rubbing his inner thighs suggestively. Rising slowly, body still moving in time with the music, you run your hands over your own body – drawing Tim’s darkened eyes to everywhere your delicate fingers graze: up, up the sides of your hips, along the lace trim of your panties, in lazy circles over your soft belly, over the swell of your tits and crossing over one another to lightly push the straps of your bra off your shoulders.

All the while your smooth legs brush up against his, getting dangerously close to Tim’s growing bulge.

Right before the falling straps of your bra start to tug down the lace covering your delectable curves, you spin around abruptly and bend over, putting your luscious ass on display - shaking and bouncing it provocatively in Tim’s face. Just a few seconds of this tantalizing view has Tim snapping and reaching out with his meaty hands to grab you by your hips, yanking you back into his lap.

You yelp and laugh, throwing your arms around Tim’s neck and tease, “Hey, Detective!” Pointing to a sign above the curtained entrance, “No touching.”

It’s all in good fun though as you kiss him, open mouthed and eager.

Tim grins back, “Call the cops on me then, Shutterbug,” as his hands roam over every inch of your body, groping and massaging fervently, as if to defy the rule on purpose. You moan when his lips find that sweet spot on your neck that always makes you lose your mind; Tim sucks and licks while his fingers tug down the lacy cups of your bra to find your nipples already waiting for his touch, pert and pointy.

“Never seen this lingerie before, gorgeous. Is it new?” Tim murmurs into your neck as he expertly pinches, rolls and tugs at your peaks the way that always gets you panting; you roll your hips over nothing, seeking to sooth the ache that he’s started to build up in your core.

“Mmmmmhmmm - wanted to surprise you when I got home later,” you breathe, eyes closed, your hands messing up Tim’s styled hair - tugging at his curls whenever his efforts cause an electric jolt of pleasure to run through your body.

“Looks good, baby. And you looked really good on-stage tonight, Shutterbug.”

You tilt Tim’s face to yours with a little pull on his locks and gently press your lips to his, “Thank you, Tim.” Your eyes are soft and grateful.

The two of you look longingly at one another as Tim’s hands drop to your waist, hands so big that his fingers reach around to your back where he rubs tormenting circles into your skin.

“You look good too, Detective. I like this look on you,” you coo.

Tim blushes, “Thanks, baby. It’s just some undercover stuff I’ve had forever. Not even sure it fits right anymore.”

Not letting Tim get away with this self-effacing comment, you run your hands in an admiring manner over the soft leather of his jacket before raking your hands down his chest; fingers catching on the open V of his dress shirt before sliding under to caress the soft knit of his undershirt, “Fits pretty good from where I am, Detective.”

You kiss down Tim’s neck, past his collar bones and swipe your tongue along the neckline of the black wife beater, mouthing over the material and giving it a little nip with your teeth in between your words:

“Took my breath away when I saw you sitting in the club, baby.”

“Look so fucking hot and like such a bad boy.”

“Thought I was going to soak through my panties on stage and that everyone was going to see how wet I was for you.”

Tim groans at your dirty praise and slips a hand down the front of your lace panties, growling low, “How wet, gorgeous?”

There’s no need to answer - Tim starts to swipe through your folds with his thick fingers and finds you sopping wet and desperate. He teases you mercilessly – dragging his fingers up and down your seam, paying little to no attention to your throbbing clit; occasionally brushing it only lightly before cruelly ignoring it in favour of dipping his fingers back down to your entrance, every so often even venturing to spread your ample slick down to your other hole.

“Please, Tim,” you whine against his lips. You feel him grin.

You would say he takes mercy on you, but it hardly feels like mercy when Tim lowers his head to take your breast in his hot mouth just as he plunges two of his fingers deep into your cunt. The sudden double sensation has you crying out and seeing stars – you chant your detective’s name softly and moan how good he makes you feel while Tim sucks and nibbles on your nipple and continues to saw in and out of your tight hole. He reaches parts of you so deep and unexplored, even by you, eager to mark and lay claim to a land that will only ever be his. Fuck, you love him.

Singing it so he knows, your melodic voice drips with lust and devotion. Tim hums appreciatively against your chest; his response is to switch his worshipping mouth to the other side of your chest and push a third finger into your needy cunt.

The stretch is sharp and delicious - any sting of pain morphs quickly into pleasure; charmed by the way Tim curves his fingers against your tight walls, your pussy leaks shamelessly with fresh of arousal. You buck a little in his hand, trying to chase the heel of his palm in order to give your poor aching clit some relief.

“Use me, baby – yeah, make yourself come on my fingers,” commands Tim, mouth still full of your soft, perky tits.

Bracing your hands on Tim’s broad shoulders for stability, you grind down, meeting each thrust of Tim’s hand so that his open palm spanks your pussy with a loud, wet slap every time. The sound is debauched, pornographic, and it makes you gush even more. When Tim angles his thumb to draw devastating circles on your clit, you nearly sob from near overstimulation, “I’m so close, baby, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come…”

Tim continues the looping of his rough thumb over your slippery nub while dragging his face away from your chest so he can lick up your neck, back to the sweet spot that started it all. He bites down with a little smirk and grits out with your delicate skin still between his teeth, “Come.”

You let go and fall with a soundless scream, toppling over the edge of ecstasy, but, as always, with a warmth that blossoms in your chest in the knowledge that Tim is there to catch you. Always right there to coax you through your high with his touch, his words, his love.

After you’ve caught your breath, Tim helps you right the lingerie that he helped christen and put on your dress. As he’s retying the front sash for you, brows furrowed in concentration (he’s so much more used to undoing the knot), you ask, grin still spacey but eyes a little worried, “Did I do okay, Detective?”

“What do you mean?” Tim looks up to the sound of the trepidation lacing your voice.

“It’s okay that I asked about the bags I saw? I don’t want to overstep when it comes to your investigation,” you’re chewing your lip adorably and Tim just wants to kiss away every little concern lining your pretty face. Instead, he finishes adjusting your clothes, then slips his big hands under your dress to pull you close by the back of your thighs.

Tim presses his chin into your soft body and looks up at you adoringly as you card your fingers through his hair, “It’s more than okay, Shutterbug. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t take the opportunity to help when you see it. I’m so lucky to have you help me, baby.”

Taking Tim’s face into your hands and running your thumbs through his facial scruff the way he likes, you lay the deepest, tenderest kiss on his lips – letting Tim lick in slow and sensually into your mouth, claiming your every breath as his own. Pulling apart only when the little melodic bell that indicates private room times are up starts to chime, Tim gives you more than the necessary bills for the private time as you walk out. When you tell him it’s too much, he closes your fingers over the cash with his hand, “You earned it, baby.” You were going to give it all to the house dancers anyways, so you accept without any further fuss.

Before letting you go, Tim glances quickly at his phone while still squeezing your waist, “Calloway’s got Tiffany in a private room now. I’m going to go join them… hopefully get some more info so we ID this Chet guy. Will you be okay getting home, Shutterbug?”

You nod and the two of you mouth I love yous, before going your separate ways. After rejoining your friends, you try not to let your mind wander to what Tim is doing too much as you cheer on the remaining dancers from Sasha’s class and flit the night away with your friends.

Although you don’t see Tim again for the remainder of your time at The Midnight Palace, you spot his Crown Vic still parked in the lot when you and your friends leave the club. It rained while you were inside and it must have been a warm summer storm because in the chillier night air, the cars in the lot all have a thick layer of condensation on their windows. Doing your best to sidestep the fresh rain puddles that glow pink from their reflection of the club’s neon signs – you make it to Tim’s car and write “I love you” across his windshield with your finger, hoping it’ll still be there when he finally gets to leave.

You hardly see Tim for the next few days, which is unusual even for him. In the wee hours of the morning following your night at The Midnight Palace, you received a picture of Tim’s windshield, your faded finger art still visible with a new word more recently added beneath to now read, I love you more.

Going to pull an all-nighter, Shutterbug.

Will try to get some shut eye on the couch in my office.

Come back to me safe, Detective Rockford.

Nothing could keep me from you, baby. Love you.

You’re busy the following day and don’t get a chance to visit Tim at the precinct or message him much, never mind badger him about making sure to eat or getting enough rest.

You suspect that he doesn’t do much of either, because you return home around dinner time to find takeout containers left for you on the kitchen counter and a loudly snoring Tim passed out in bed. He barely stirs when you kiss his temple and wish him sweet dreams.

He’s gone again when you wake up, leaving you a good morning note to let you know that he misses and loves you as much as you do him.

A busy work day for both of you has you once again missing the other’s calls and relegated to a few text messages here and there. You’re really starting to miss him.

Finally, fate deigns to realign your and Tim’s schedules after two full days apart; you happily scramble to sit up in your nighttime bath when you hear a soft knock on the bathroom door.

“Hey Shutterbug,” Tim’s smile is soft, his eyes relieved, his entire stance exhausted.

“Hey yourself, Detective. Long time no see,” you coo, resting your arms and chin on the side of the bathtub and gazing up at your handsome boyfriend, “Come in the water, baby.”

Tim undresses swiftly and slides into the warm water, fragrant and bright pink from the bath bomb you dropped in earlier. It smells like jasmine and lemongrass, your shampoo and a fourth scent that Tim can never place but just always associates with you. You sit behind Tim, legs bracketing his hips as you wash his hair and scrub down his body with a pouf. Wherever it's needed, you try to apply some groan inducing pressure to Tim’s back with your slippery hands in order to work out some of the more stubborn knots - the office couch has not been kind to Detective Rockford’s back.

Despite the lack of sleep, the ache in his muscles, and missing you, Tim can’t help but grin widely – it’s been a hell of a last 48 hours in the Pie Case.

“You were right, Shutterbug.”

“Hmmmm?” you’ve got your chin hooked over Tim’s shoulders, soaping up his beefy arms and thick chest.

“They were spring rolls.”

Thoroughly amused, you laugh a light musical laugh that sends Tim’s heart soaring, “That little emblem on the bags wasn’t a joint, it was a spring roll?”

Tim nods and then he tells you what he’s been doing for the last two days.

After revealing their identities to Tiffany in the security of the private room at The Midnight Palace, she had been more than happy to help them take down Chet as you had correctly surmised.

The police easily set up surveillance and a tail that picked up Chet after he came by to grab the spring roll marked bags, which now contained stacks of marked bills that Tiffany helped sneak in. The surveillance and the marked bills helped the police trace an intricate network of money laundering schemes over the past two days, of which, as you had also theorized, The Midnight Palace, was just an insignificant player. But being able to pick up the money trail at such an early point of the overall scheme allowed the police to map out and uncover much more intricate and convoluted parts of the laundering network: bank accounts had been tagged and flagged, other local businesses implicated, international banks subpoenaed. Chet himself had been picked up late this afternoon and sang like a bird.

The work was far from over, but a hell of a lot of progress had been made in the last two days – the whole precinct was riding on a high. And Tim can’t help but swell with pride that they owed much of it to your keen eye.

You feel your face flush at Tim’s praise. You don’t know what to say – it seems only natural for something that’s so important to the man you love to be on the forefront of your mind at all times; so instead, you ask a question to which you truly wish to know the answer, “Why a spring roll?”

“Ah ha!” Tim smiles, this was, he had to admit, rather clever, “The smaller bills collected in the Spring Roll bags were earmarked to be deposited at the bank under an account for a fake food court business selling Chinese food. The bank never questioned it – large volume deposits of small bills for a food court stall seemed perfectly appropriate.”

“That is clever!” you muse, “But not clever enough.” When Tim tilts his head back you kiss him with affection, proud of your brilliant detective’s mind.

Once satisfied with the state of Tim’s cleanliness, you wrap your arms around Tim’s neck and cheekily nip at his earlobe, “So… for my help, do I get paid in spring rolls?”

Tim hums, his hands finding the dip of your hips under the water, massaging them appreciatively, “We could do that, or you can redeem another prize from the Detectives’ Rewards Incentive Program.”

“Oh really?” you giggle at the inside joke from that first unforgettable night Tim took you to bed and grin into his wet hair - your pussy already throbbing with want. You press your tits into Tim’s back, “What do I qualify for, Detective?”

“Let me show you,” Tim smirks. Then before you can register what’s happening, Tim rolls over in the bath, sending bright pink water sloshing over the side of the tub as his hands find and latch onto those soft curves that he’s been dreaming of for the past two nights. You yelp, squeal, then moan - putty in Detective Rockford’s capable hands as he shows you just how much you’ve been missed.

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