#so i really had no clue what the hell i was talking about and was just regurgitating other ppls talking points

[gallusrostromegalus]

I think there's two things going on in canon about Aizen:

Aizen doesn't kill captains in the first big battle of his betrayal because he can't.

1. The doylist explanation of his actions is so blatantly transparent (shonen jump scheduling hell) that it overwhelms the subtle watsonian clues that kubo gives us which are:

2. Aizen is a lying bitch. To absolutely everyone around him, but most of all, to himself.

He takes great pains to disguise it. He talks a big game and definitely tries his best to kill, but he doesn't. it makes tactical sense for him to kill at least SOMEONE before fucking off to hueco Mundo but even the fucking off belies the problem. He's a tough customer, but if he really were capable of killing another captain in a fight, he wouldn't have bothered with the whole fake corpse theater- he would have just picked them off one by one while quietly completing the hogyoku until Yamamoto had straight-up run out of strong enough shinigami to promote and Aizen had made himself a god while nobody was looking.

Instead, Aizen's plan relies on (and fails at) having the captains kill each other, and building an army of warm bodies to put between himself and the rest of the Court Guard until the Hogyoku is complete, which pretty much screams "I cannot win, even in a pitched fight".

EVEN WHEN THE HOGYOKU IS COMPLETE, Aizen doesn't stick around to actually finish off the captains- he bolts to the living world AGAIN and shuts the portal doors behind him.

-

Now that we know that Aizen is mostly smoke and mirrors who is desperately trying to stay alive until his godhood hax kick in, his pattern of avoidance of real threats reveals something interesting:

It's funny that you mention him being afraid of Yamamoto because I think he is afraid, but not of Yamamoto. Aizen doesn't want anyone to think he's scared of anything, but it's better you think it's Yamamoto than The Actual Problem. If you ignore everything Aizen says and just look at how close he's willing to even let other captains get to his person, there is one captain he's TERRIFIED of above all others.

He spends exactly one scene in the same room with them, and only when he knows the meeting is ending early.

He absolutely refuses to taunt them- in fact, they're the person he spends the most time trying to convince that he is actually dead.

When confronted by the various captains, he glaots a bit and then tries to kill them- except one, whole monologues at exactly long enough for Gin to cause a distraction, and then DIPS. He even cuts his big monologue at the execution grounds short because this Captain is incoming.

When the finale of the winter war begins, Aizen makes a point of not being in the same dimension as this captain, and when they're approaching, he leaves for the living world.

Again and again and again, there is one captain, one person, that Aizen stays far, far away from:

Unohana.

I don't think this is intentional on Kubo's part, (unless it's severely underplayed foreshadowing which is a shame) but given how kubo treats his female characters and how he doesn't really seem to understand what a doctor does, I think Aizen's pattern of staying the hell away from Unohana is accidental, but it's my fic and I can have it be on purpose because it reveals some truly delicious motivation and interaction.

1. AEIWAM!Aizen (and to a similar extent, canon!Aizen) regularly squanders perfectly good resources or chances to fix the inequities of soul society because he's too far up his own ass to see the forest for the trees. One of the cheif blindspots he has is his rampant misogyny. Aizen regards the relationship between Gin and Rangiku as that of child and toy. He treats Momo as a disposable tool instead of recognizing she was the one who got closest to actual killing any of the other captains. He seems to think the royal guard themselves will be easy to deal with- possibly because the only one he ever knew in person was Hikifune, and it is so, so easy for a man like him to wildly low all the power and competence of someone like her. He rambles about the hollows having no inner life, but notably it's Hallibel that triggers this rant. It NEVER occurs to him that Orihime herself could be a problem - she's just a toy to take from Ichigo.

Aizen, simply put, does not think of women as people. He disregards the interiority of everyone around him, really, but ESPECIALLY the women around him.

...but this kind of objectification cuts both ways. Like most bigots, his inability to think of certain humans as people means he is also prone to greatly inflate the damage they can do in his mind until they become supernatural entities. "The Enemy is both pathetic and omnipotent" is an important basis of victim complexes, and Aizen Loooooves being the victim, so it makes PERFECT SENSE that his personal Boogeyman is none other than the woman he knows entirely as the quiet and dutiful doctor who has never set foot in battle but that all the older shinigami seem strangely eager to placate. Unohana is pathetically weak, so far as Aizen can tell, yet seems to effortlessly command the respect he so desperately craves. No wonder she lives rent-free in his head.

2. ... Ironically, Aizen is right about her. In canon, Unohana's past as the first kenpachi is not a secret, just largely forgotten. In AEIWAM, it's an actual secret because the Gotei-13 is playing a much more fraught game with the C46. Aizen genuinely has no idea she used to be captain of the 11th, so the weird bloodthirsty edges that he sometimes sees to her reiatsu, and the respect she commands with the other (smarter) captains is baffling.

In truth, Unohana is every inch the monster she was as a kenpachi as she is a medic. Flesh is hers to command and her willingness to cut and sculpt it to her desires hasn't changed- she is just now also capable of healing and reviving it into shape as well, which is much, much worse.

I haven't decided exactly how much Aizen knows about her by the time of his betrayal, but at least on a subconscious level, I think Aizen knows that Unohana is punching in a league well above most of the captains, if not above the old man himself at this point, and his inability to think of her as human means he is unable to assign human motives to her like most of his victims, so she appears terrifyingly unpredictable.

3. Even if it's a secret, some of the captains know, or have guessed. She was still Kenpachi when Shunsui and Ukitake started at the academy. Soi Fon is responsible for handling some of soul society's most sensitive information. Zaraki got his ass handed to him by her and has been in love ever since. Rangiku looked into giving blood once and realized that the most of donors to transplants didn't add up and the meat had to be coming from SOMEWHERE and oh wait that would explain everything huh.

There's a fun bit of play, I think, between the captains who knows Unohana is more than she at first appears, and the ones who haven't gotten a clue yet.

I may have wandered off topic.

MY POINT IS: Aizen doesn't kill captains when it makes tactical sense for him to do so because he is not capable of doing so. His whole strategy relies on not getting killed before he gets his godhood and up until he does, he's running like a rat.

Poor bastard.

If only he knew what was in store for him when he got there.

I did not care at all for Aizen Sosuke when I first read bleach. I found him boring, and worst, unthreatening.

So it's pretty jarring for me that I have been OBSESSED with him in your AU. I'm rotating him at great speed

Walt Disney was a jackass who was flat-out wrong about a lot of very important things, but he employed a great many geniuses of storytelling, and there's a piece in Disney Animation: The Illusion of Life by Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnson that discusses a key feature of Disney Studios Character Design:

"Of all characters, villains are the most fun to develop because they make everything else happen. They are the instigators, and always more colorful than the Hero. They may be dramatic, awesome, insidious or semi-comic, but they MUST be appealing. Almost any story becomes innocuous if all the evil is eliminated, but we do not necessarily gain strength by being frightening. we want a character that will hold the audience and entertain them, even if it's a Chilling Type of Entertainment."

And I've found that to be an important principle of character design, especially the kind of canon restructuring I do.

Aizen had a LOT going for him in canon- for all of Bleach's other faults, Aizen's conspiracy and THE REVEAL are spectacularly constructed and executed. I legit screamed and threw my mug across my dorm room when I read it in the manga the first time. He's also conventionally attractive and the translations I was reading gave him the speech patterns of Every Douchebag In Your 101 Political Theory Who Thinks He's The Smartest Man In The Room, which made him a terrific combination of Unfortunately Charming, Menacingly Competent and Engagingly Obnoxious.

...But he falls flat in a few key places.

Aizen's reasoning could be MUCH more sympathetic- After all, he is RIGHT. Soul Sciety does suck ass and all the options kind of suck. Who designs a universe like that? An asshole who needs killing, that's who. The best kind of Unhinged Madmen are the kind who spell out their reasoning and you realize that there but for the grace of Not Having Super Powers Go I. Canon!Aizen makes a few Good Rhetorical Points, but seems to lack any personal connection to his all-consuming plan.

Another issue is that nearly every villain with A Plan has a clear end goal AND a lot of the menace is drawn from the fact that the plan *could* work. Aizen's plan for betraying the court guard and then killing them off before proceeding into the Royal Realm to Kill God sorta falls apart when it's clear he planned to use pretty much all his accumulated forces dealing with the court guard and doesn't seem to have a plan for the Even More Powerful Royal Guard, let alone God. For how meticulously planned the rest of the plot is, the last two VERY IMPORTANT steps are just handwaved.

So I sat down and started with the plot beats Aizen MUST hit, and tried to imagine what kind of guy would he have to be to get there? And I came up with this:

Sosuke Aizen is a fundamentally good man with genuinely good intentions who is really trying his best for the whole world.

Think about it- what lengths would you NOT go to if you think you found a genuine shot at Fixing Everything Wrong With The World Forever? We all talk about killing Hitler if we found an actual Time Machine- would you do it if your only chance was when he was a baby? Would you kill an infant if it meant you could stop World War II before it starts? Of course you would! One small life for over 75 million? You'd be insane not to! What if you found out that you could prevent the future extinction of Humanity by killing your best friend today? Ten Billion lives? For theirs? It's simple, really- Hell, it's your Moral Obligation to do that if you were SURE!

-And Aizen IS sure. He is absolutely, totally, completely sure that He Can Save Everyone if he just gets rid of that idiot sitting on the throne of heaven. He's seen the plans! He knows where the gate of heaven is! It's So SIMPLE he just has to get inside, and he knows EXACTLY how to do it, yes it'll be hard and there will be... unpleasant parts but. IT. WILL. WORK.

He is of course, insane.

Aizen didn't have One Bad Day that set him irrevocably on the path of madness. It was a succession of catastrophic disappointments and realizations that he was living in a fundamentally irrational world that made irrational thinking look sane. The Catastrophe that befell his family, working for the central 46 and later the court guard and seeing how the organizations were inept to the point of abuse or corrupt to the core, learning that The Actual House Of God is a place he can just? Go to? Anyone would start thinking you were just a handful of white lies and homicides away from Fixing Everything, Forever.

Not only is Aizen insane, he is nowhere near as smart as he thinks. He is smart- He does have a knack for being able to guess just what will spur someone to action or make them recoil in fear. But mostly he gets extremely lucky Many, Many, MANY times. On some level I think it gives him Confirmation Bias that this is what he's supposed to be doing. Aizen is also nowhere near as smart as (nearly) everyone else thinks he is. His bizarrely good luck makes him look like a hyper-competent genius when really it was really the catastrophic failure of Soul Society as a Society that let a merely mediocre conspirator to evade detection for so long.

Being that he is at most, mediocre, he had to have Outside Help, specifically Gin's emotional support and Tousen's Competence- and if there's a part of the fic that stays true to canon, it's this.

Gin is Aizen's emotional rock in Canon. He's the ONE guy that Aizen genuinely trusts, and considers his 'my only real partner' in his scheme. There's more than one occasion in the manga where Aizen more or less asks Gin "Is this actually a good idea?" and Gin backs him up every time.

...Which is more than a bit at odds with Gin's later stated goal of "I did all this to kill you at your most vulnerable to protect rangiku" . It never rang true to me. So I started thinking why on EARTH Gin would be backing Aizen up like that, and realized there was a hole in my world building that he slotted into nicely :)

On the other hand, the entire fic was started because I didn't like how Tousen's character arc ended, so you can imagine how much he's changed.

But in canon, TOUSEN DOES ALL THE FUCKING WORK.

Lab work? Tousen.

Supervising the arrancar directly? Tousen

Actually getting victims for the Hogyoku experiments? Tousen.

Altering all the archives to keep Aizen's plot hidden? Tousen.

Sending all the Orders allegedly from the central 46? Tousen.

Making sure Unohana believes Aizen's fake body is real? Tousen.

Managing all the day-to-day operations at Las Noches? Tousen.

There's even this little exchange, which is Tousen's first appearance in the Manga:

Aizen establishes this entire meeting is a little fake-out a few pages later with "now isn't that a convenieint time for the alarm to go off?"

which makes him look like he's investigating, but he's also going "Good job on disrupting everyone with the alarm Gin!" It's ballsy of Aizen to do a check-in on his plan with his main nemesis in the room, but also his style.

I think the same thing is happening here with Tousen. To make sure Ukitake wouldn't raise a huge fit about the proposed execution of his beloved lieutenant, which might fuck everything up for Aizen because Ukitake is one of like, three people Yamamoto will listen to (sort of).

...So he had Tousen poison Ukitake to keep him out of the way.

ALL. THE. FUCKING. WORK. It's even in his name! The characters for "Tousen" Refer to a legendary scholar the emperor of China sent out to discover the secret of immortality- only to kill the scholar when he returned with that secret. The character for "Kaname" means "Necessary/Vital/keystone" or "to organize/take account of". His name LITERALLY means "Scholar who is essential for the plan (that we're going to kill later)"

Another thing Kubo did well in Bleach: his name game is Off The Fucking Charts.

-but I digress.

In AEIWAM, it's much the same only this time Aizen sees this very dangerous witness who is immune to his illusions but also extremely snart and capable young man and instead of risking being caught out by the one damn guy who can see right through him, opts to Curse Kaname into doing as Aizen says, and doing all the fucking work of this conspiracy against his will.

It's Not Nice, but Aizen genuinely thinks he's doing Kaname a favor by subjecting him to this degrading and incredibly painful servitude- I mean, Aizen's only other option was to Kill him to keep his silence, and isn't it wonderful that you get to help fix the universe? You're the one always going on about Justice, I don't understand why you didn't jump at the chance to mete out some Divine Justice.

An Excerpt from the captain's meeting in between the Massacre that made the visored and Zaraki's arrival, when Kaname realizes Yamamoto is 100% serious about his promotion to captain of the 9th and goes to throw up in the garden. Aizen offers to go check on him while Unohana very politely reads the general the riot act:

---

"You broke your toy Aizen." Kaname coughs.

"…I really am sorry for running you ragged like this. I really shouldn't have gotten so mad about you hiding the the hogyoku- it was very petty of me." The bastard sighs, taking off his glasses and rubbing his face, entirely genuine.

Kaname stayed on his hands and knees, weaving slightly as another wave of nausea flowed through him, powered by disgust and rage.

"How about this- I've got a lot coming up with the new job, training Gin and disposing of Kiganjo- So how about I promise to not give you any orders for a while? You will have to keep our arrangement a secret and not interfere, of course, but other than that, you're free to do as you please for- a year and a day is traditional isn't it? No, that's not going to heal by then- Oh, would you look at that!"

Kaname didn't have the strength to offer his usual rebuttal that he won't look at anything, ever. The sides of his head tingle like his skul was being pressed between two enormous hands made of static electricity.

"It's 11:11! Alright, I won't give you any Orders until 11:11 am on November 11th, 1911. That's easy to remember! What do you think?" Aizen continued cheerfully, patting his back and the Curse nails.

"…I can't." Kaname groaned. He could scream if he had the energy, but due to Aizen's Illusions, nobody would hear him. "I actually physically can't think. Please…"

"Of course! You really are such a help to me, it would be a shame to lose you. I'll even amend our contract, so you don't get paranoid-" There was a sizzling sound and a new stroke of hot pain up Kaname's spine as Aizen did something to the wretched Bakudo. "There. No compulsions for eleven years and a day. What do you say?"

Kaname grimaced, but dropped his head. Save the energy to fight another day. "…thank you, Aizen-sama."

"Good man! Let's get you on your feet." Aizen beamed, putting his glasses back on and offering him an arm.

---

He genuinely thinks that he's doing everyone a huge favor and if they don't get it it's because they're just not smart enough, but it's alright, He's a Benevolent God and they'll appreciate all his hard work the next time around :)

Aizen is a man who is FULL of joy. He loves what he does! He actively takes pleasure in it! And I think that's something that REALLY delivers in terms of sympathy AND horror for him. Who *Wouldn't* have a great time actually fixing the universe? He's a good man who enjoys doing good works, and this is the greatest work of all!

It also Delivers on the Horror when I get to write the deliciously fun scenes where Aizen is Elbows-deep in a novel War Crime and waxing poetic about how GREAT this is, or being confused why the people around him are reacting with fear. Don't you want to make everything better too?

[jjscrybaby]

the birthday boy

daryl dixon x fem!reader | fluff | (cringe, cringe, cringe! i can’t help who i am😖basic gift ideas bc i couldn’t think of anything, kissing.)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

One thing you were you would never get back was knowing the date. You’d spent the last couple years in the dark, you had a brief idea of how many years had gone by but dates? Absolutely no clue. It was when you and your group got to Alexandria that you learnt they knew the date, they’d kept track; it wasn’t like they were out killing walkers and fighting for survival, so they had the time to do such a mundane thing.

You’d asked Daryl when his birthday was a long time ago, just after the farm fell and before you reached the prison. The two of you were on watch whilst everyone else slept — or at least tried to — and you wanted to know his zodiac sign. It was silly, but you wanted to talk about something that wasn’t the hell your lives had become. He’d muttered out ‘January 6th’, and then gone silent once again. You kept that information stored in the little Daryl section in your mind, and you hadn’t forgotten it.

“What’re you doin’?” Daryl muttered sleepily, waking up to you sitting on him with a wide grin on your face. He opened one eye, looking from you to the window. “The sun ain’t even fully risen. Better ‘ave a good reason to wake me up.”

“I do,” you murmured, leaning down to catch his lips with yours. He didn’t argue, his arms loosely wrapping around your waist as he kissed you back.

“You alrigh’?” He checked quietly. You definitely weren’t the early riser out of the pair of you, in the morning’s that he had to go on an early supply run and tried to wake you to say goodbye he’d usually be cursed at.

“Yeah,” you reassured softly, running your hand through his growing locks. “Happy birthday, handsome.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before he let out a soft huh. “Is that today?”

“Yes, it’s today you idiot,” you giggled, pecking his cheek. “Do you want your presents now or at the party?”

“What…” he muttered, eyes widening.

You snorted, swatting at his chest. “I’m kidding. There’s no party. But me and Carol are baking a cake and you can’t say no, I already had to talk them out of finding a birthday banner.”

“Mhm, appreciate it,” he smirked lazily, drawing circles into your thigh. “Can we go back to sleep now, darlin’? I appreciate the birthday wake up, but ‘m exhausted.”

“You don’t want your presents,” you pouted.

“Thought you were kiddin’?” He questioned, leaning on his elbows to sit up slightly.

“About the party, yeah. You really think that I wouldn’t get you presents? Have you met me?” You teased. He smiled softly at you, a quirk of a lip that you were sure no one else was ever on the receiving end of.

“Didn’t even kno’ it was my birthday, so I wasn’t expectin’ presents,” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes fondly, switching the bedside table lamp on before getting off of him to rush over to the closet. You pulled out a paper bag, handing it over to him. “I couldn’t find any wrapping paper,” you sheepishly explained.

“That’s alright,” he chuckled, reaching out for your hand. You sat down next to him as he sat up, looking between you and the bag. “You know you didn’t ‘ave to get me anythin’.”

“I wanted to,” you argued. “Now, open it, please. I’m getting impatient.”

He let out a quiet laugh, opening up the bag. First he pulled out a knife; it wasn’t new, or even very sharp — although he’d be able to sort that out — but there was something on the side of it. Both yours and his initials carved into the side. You knew that wasn’t really his thing, something so cheesy, but you wanted his gift to have meaning. It was difficult to find things for anyone’s birthday in an apocalypse, but Daryl? Well, that’s pretty much impossible.

“Thankyou, darlin’.” He ran his fingers over the messy carving you’d done, a fond look in his eyes. “I love it.” He leant in and pressed a peck to your lips, making your eyes twinkle.

“Really? I know it’s not much…” you said, about to go on a classic ramble.

“Stop. I love it, seriously. I ain’t ever— I’ve never gotten a birthday present before, ‘least not one that I can remember,” he admitted, squeezing your hand.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, but you kept the smile on your face. You hadn’t expected that Daryl had many fun birthday’s growing up, not with the family he had. Maybe Merle took him to a bar on his 21st to have his first legal drink, but that was probably it. You kissed the corner of his mouth, stroking his hair.

“Well, now that we’re not fighting for our lives constantly anymore, expect presents every year. Christmas, too,” you said softly.

“Wouldn’t expect anythin’ less from you,” he responded, caressing your cheek lovingly. He placed the knife on the bedside table, moving to switch the light off.

“What’re you doing?” You asked.

“Goin’ back to sleep?” He answered, looking back at you over his shoulder. “That alright with you?” He teased.

“But… you haven’t opened your other present,” you explained. There was something in your tone, nervousness, shyness, he wasn’t sure.

“Another one?” He looked at you in confusion.

“Don’t be dramatic, Dar. It’s not like I spent any money,” you giggled. You went behind you, opening the drawer and pulling out something. You held it in your hand, not letting him see. “It’s a bit stupid, but I wanted to give you this for awhile. Since you gave me mine, at least.”

You opened your palm and revealed the silver band, a shy smile on your face. Six months ago, Daryl had gone on a week long supply run and he’d returned home with a ring. It wasn’t like you could have a proper wedding, not like the one you used to dream about when you were younger, but you wanted to marry Daryl. You wanted to tell people he was your husband. So, of course, you’d cried your eyes out and said yes. Ever since you’d wanted him to have a ring, too. Your engagement ring would probably be your wedding one as well, it wasn’t like you could go shopping. If you were going to get married, both of you needed proof of the wedding.

It was silent, you stared at him waiting for some sort of reaction. Slowly, a smile made its way onto his face. “You ain’t gonna ask me?”

“What?”

“I ain’t acceptin’ a ring without a proposal,” he joked.

You giggled, moving to straddle his waist once again. “Daryl Dixon, will you marry me?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, cradling your cheek in his hand as he brought your face down to his. “‘Course I will, baby.”

His lips moved against yours, arms wrapping around your waist to tug you to lie down on top of him. You pulled away first, grabbing his hand to slip the ring onto his fingers.

“Wouldn’t want to spend my birthday’s with no one else.”

[finalhaunts]

Since I have some (very reasonable) concerns about ace discourse possibly making a return thanks to recent events, I'd like to remind everyone (and myself) that majority of the time the pointless infighting and drama you see among queers really only happens online. If you go to a pride parade as an ace and/or aro nobody is gonna give two shits besides like, terfs and high schoolers who very clearly grew up online. And if one of those two parties DO approach you and give you shit for it i guarantee all the other queers there will defend you. Nobody normal actually cares this much about shit in real life and most of the community understands that; the vocal portion that do care that much don't have much power over the community outside of their echo chambers online, because they know if they just go out in the middle of a queer event and start attacking people they're gonna be the ones getting their teeth knocked out. So like. Don't let anything you read on this website make you think otherwise.

Anyways, aros and aces are queer (yes even the cishet ones), people with confusing/contradictory identities come over here and kiss me on my mouth, etc.

[blackcurrant-juice]

back in septmeber i got some kind of attack in the middle of lab so they sent me to the ER because they didn't want to take chances with me dying from chemicals but still made me pay the hospital fees myself. then i still had to go back the next week to finish my lab. then bad news happened last week and my. lab report is so fucking late. all these penalties. it will be worth fucking nothing. what did i go to the ER for they should have just let me die there #tbh

[fionnaskyborn]

current mood:

[nihiltism]

oh goodness! hi vee! i know its a little bit late, but can I ask for 6 on your oc ask game?

wowie zowie hi person who Definitely isnt just me on anon!!! i absolutely can thank you for asking!!!

so thats my guy chucklefuck and ive been looping this song for a WHILE so its their song now!!

i know for a fact i have Not gotten the chance to talk about chucklefuck here so im gonna be using this as an excuse to talk about them a bunch! basically theyre. best adapted to be a ttrpg campaign character, for one. but theyre a spy bot created by The Main Oppressive Regime to mislead their peers, as well as spy on them and report back. so basically if i played them id be rolling bluff checks every 5 seconds because of their other main gimmick: they think theyre the funniest bitch in the world. see to avoid suspicion they elect to play under the "beep boop, i am a robot" facade. this is Incredibly fucking funny to them bc. yknow the gags where a robot character will do some faux pas or embarrass another character in the party but its not like they Meant to they didnt know any better. well. yeah this guy definitely knew better and they are Living It Up.

im not gonna explain their whole Deal but i will say that i think they Will eventually get found out bc they cant bullshit forever and thats where i think the song fits bc they kindaaa. only exist to be in service of CapitalismCorp Incorporated and havent had enough freedom ever to really think of this as a Bad thing really. theyve got this Delight at watching the world burn and they know that includes them but they sure don't care! why would they?

[kawaiianimeredhead]

I spent the last couple days rewatching SOTUS since the first time I watched it years ago

And honestly, I may like it more now than I did and I liked it a lot back then. I kno people have issues with it and I get those and understand them

But damn I love this show a lot. I can't wait to start watching SOTUS S, I remember enjoying that as much if not more so I think it'll be a fun rewatch

[adreamfromnevermore]

Love the slight AUs where Bruce as Batman has been a member of the league for ages, but he's somehow managed to keep his assortment of children under the radar.

Because it sets up the wildest misunderstandings within the league. He routinely talks about his babies, his children who are all so sweet and kind and occasionally assholes yes but only because they are young (and traumatized) hell I don't think the league would even be aware that they're adopted. So they're all thinking literal children

Barry: Bats really loves his kids.

Hal: I mean they're babies, wait till they hit the angsty teens and I'm sure we'll be hearing the opposite

Which means the day they finally meet Nightwing they don't know wtf to think. For one thing, how old would he have been when he had this kid???? Should they be worried about that???? And for the other, that is not a baby, that is not a precious little thing.

He could break someone in half. Like a twig.

He won't, but he could. And they can see that. (He's bat trained, they have seen what the bat can do they are not fools)

And they're like, okay. Okay maybe he isn't the baby (he is). He's got younger kids right? He's never said how many, they have 0 clues. They've been expecting 1 child, maybe 2 because he'd said kid in the plural exactly once when comforting an older woman while they were searching for her children in the aftermath of a rough battle.

And then a week later they run into Red Hood. In his leather, with his guns. And he drapes himself across Batmans back with all the self confidence in the world and starts whining about the "Brat" breaking into his safe house.

To steal his dog.

And yet again. He is not baby. He is bigger than Batman. He could probably break Batman in half given the bat didn't put up a fight. But Batman looks at him with probably the softest expression they've ever seen on that mans face and tells him very earnestly that the kid just wants to spend time with his older brother, next time they should try a walk. Maybe go to the zoo.

But probably not one of the babies. They're kind, and gentle, and at least one just loves reading and Bats has been trying to encourage that!!!

And then a day later he mentions his "babies" going for a walk in the park and they all instantaneously lose their minds at the confirmation.

[thinkinonsense]

PAST LIFE⋆

dofp!logan howlett x mutant fem!reader

cw:fingering, cursing, dirty talk, mentions of motherhood, fluff

masterlist

logan should've known when he accepted the mission to come go back in time to stop the sentinels that you would still be here.

"is there an issue here, hank?"

the sound of your voice made logan's heart flutter. you were barely peaking out from behind the door but logan could see you just fine. he couldn't stop staring.

"no, everything's fine." hank assured you. just as you turned to return to charles's office, you heard the door burst open. this handsome stranger hits hank right in the nose before continuing up the stairs to you.

logan had to take you in for a second. his beautiful future wife stood in front of him and had absolutely no clue that they were married because she was only twenty-five years old.

had you always been this gorgeous? was that even fair? all of these were questions that floated around in his mind.

"who are you and what do you want?" you asked as he reached out to touch you.

"so you've always been this beautiful, huh, princess?" he purred, tucking away a piece of your hair behind your ear.

sure, he was attractive in his brown leather jacket and sunglasses but this man looked in his mid-forties. logan was too busy staring down at your frilly yellow babydoll dress to notice where you were looking at him. his left hand; more specifically the gold band on his ring finger.

"i don't mess with married men." you glare at him. he can't help but chuckle darkly down at your innocence.

"oh, my wife wouldn't mind."

god, logan felt like such a pervert for coming on to you but he couldn't help it. your ethereal beauty was unreal. not that you have aged much since the present day, as you two have the slow aging processes in common. older hank would always tell logan that he should be lucky that you agreed to date him because there were plenty of people who would love to take his place. sure, logan believed him but now, he really understood what hank meant.

"where's charles at, sweetheart?" logan asks, inhaling your floral sent.

before you can respond, charles comes barreling down the stairs drunkenly calling after you.

"where've you been?" he asked you then turned to logan. "who the hell are you?"

this should be good.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"how do we know that you're actually from the future?" you asked, sitting atop charles desks, swinging your legs. hank and charles stood outside in the hallway discussing whether or not to trust logan.

"you've always been this stubborn?" logan says under his breath, rolling his eyes.

"how do we even know each other in the future?" you finally asked.

for the past hour, this man has tried to sell this absurd story about how future charles and magneto sent him here together to save mutants from sentinels. so far he's managed to convince charles but hank and you were still on the fence.

"we're married, sweetheart." logan smirks wickedly.

there was absolutely no way that you two were married. this man is grumpy, mean-looking, and wears dark brown leather. you are an academic scholar who adores pastels and helping other mutants. he had to have you mistaken.

you squint up at him and laugh, "we are married?"

logan nods, walking over to you until he's standing between your legs.

"tell me something only i would know then."

"your favorite ice cream flavor is strawberry, you hate the cold and winter, anytime you drink coffee you get nightmares, your favorite color is green, but your favorite shade is the color my eyes get when i look at you." logan could see the way your eyes widen, slowly starting to believe him more and more. he couldn't help but feel cocky. "would you like me to continue?"

"im not sure... think you're gonna have to prove it. another way." you challenge him. logan's hand trails up your thigh, playing with the soft yellow material.

"c'mon sweetheart, this is too easy." he mutters against your neck, placing soft kisses and nibbling on the skin.

logan knew you like the back of his hand. he knew exactly what you liked and disliked. sometimes you would even tell him that he knew you better than you knew yourself.

"you like when i pull your bottom lip when we kiss. you blush every time i offer for you to sit on my face. one of your favorite ways to fuck is pressed up against a wall or bent over a table..." logan could go on and on.

"we do that...?" you whisper embarrassed by this version of yourself, trying to avoid his burning gaze.

"oh, all the time. sometimes you pull me down on the floor when i come home, begging to ride me right then and there." logan says, once he captures your attention again. you chew on your bottom lip adorably.

a small whimper passes your lips before you remember that hank and charles aren't that far away from the room. one of your hands comes up to logan's chest, slightly pushing him back despite not wanting to.

"w-we should stop." you warn him. "they can hear us."

this was when logan knew that you hadn't discovered part of your mutation yet. he had already assumed that you hadn't but this confirmed it.

"need you to relax, princess," he says, moving higher up to your jaw. your body betrays everything your mouth says, eating out of the palm of his hand. "i promise once you relax, it'll feel like time has stopped."

logan's lips taunt yours; not quite giving you what you want. fed up, you overpower him and push his lips into yours. the only word floating around in your head was 'relax'.

carefully, logan lays you back on the desk. something about being held in the stranger's arms set you at ease; maybe he was your husband?

"you don't know this yet..." logan huffs. "but you can stop time."

you scoff, thinking that you caught him in a lie. "no, i can't."

"if you relax like i said, then you can." logan mutters against your collarbone.

one of his hands slides up your thigh while the other rubs circles on your hip bone. was this wrong of you? if he is telling the truth –and it seems like he is– then technically he is your husband and it's not wrong to mess around with your husband.

"open up for me, babydoll." logan mumbled against your collarbones, placing wet kisses and nibbling on the delicate skin.

your legs spread with ease as his callused fingers rub over your cotton panties. the soft material of your dress is bunched at your tummy as he tugs your panties off, pocketing them for himself. his thumb returns to rub your button.

"p-please..." you whimper, looking up at logan with bambi eyes. "need more."

"anything for you, princess." he groans, slipping two fingers inside of you as gently as he can. this earned a loud moan from you when he nudged that spot deep in your gummy walls with ease.

"see how well i know my wife?" logan gloats, pressing soft kisses to your lips but never letting you catch him. "you usually prefer it rougher than this but i'm not cruel."

"y-you can go... can go faster." you pant, never having anything quite his size yet.

"i don't want to hurt you, baby." he says in a condescending tone. "wanna know something 'bout the future?"

it was difficult but you managed to nod your head despite how clearly fucked out you were at this point.

"a couple weeks ago, you came home telling me how much you want to be a mom; how you've always wanted to be a mom." he pulls back to look at your pretty face, lust darkening your eyes and slick pouring out of you, practically dripping down his palm onto the desk. "so, every chance we get alone you've been begging for me to go raw inside of you."

logan loved how even as you're all spread out for him, you're still blushing at his filthy words.

"look at you, blushing while you soak my hand." he mocks with a smirk.

"i'm s-so close, please!" you beg so politely.

his thick fingers pick up the pace as you clench down on them; jaw dropped and head thrown back. logan's other hand supports your back while your cute painted blue nails dig into his wrist as your climax starts to wash over you.

"hey sweetheart, look out the window." he chuckles, moving your chin to stare hazily out the glass window.

you couldn't believe it. every car, bird, street light, everything was stopped. everything but you and logan.

"how did you know that i could...?"

"you can't always control it but when you calm your mind, it's easier for you to do it."

"does it always happen when we...?"

"when we have sex...?" logan chuckles as you hide yourself in his chest. you nod. "no. over time you've found ways to control it. sometimes if we need more time, you might manipulate it."

"future me sounds cool." you giggle, lifting up to look at him. "how do we meet?"

"i can't tell you that." he smiles.

"well, then where are you in this timeline? how can i meet you sooner?"

"i'm not a very good man during this time, baby. you'll meet me when the time is right."

"what if you don't want me then? how do you know we will still get together?"

logan looks down at your pouty lips, swiping his thumb across it.

"i'll always come back for you. no matter the timeline or where we are in life; i'll find you again."

"promise?"

"i promise you, sweetheart. don't worry that beautiful mind of yours." he assures, kissing the tear strolling down your cheek.

logan reaches down and kisses you tenderly, pulling you out of the time freeze. suddenly the door swings open on the two of you. thank god, logan had quick reflexes, pulling your dress back down to cover you.

charles calls your name and then asks, "what are you doing?"

"it's okay, he's my husband."

a loud laugh escapes logan at your lovey-dovey tone, almost making hank and charles eyes fall out of their heads. you couldn't wait to meet logan again in the future.

[lusalemaart]

🥛🍔

[godmadeaterribleerror]

I Could Have You

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Love Confessions, Smut (p in v, oral both receiving), light angst, soulmates, sex pollen, no use of y/n

Summary/Warnings: Dean is hit with a lust spell, and it doesn't seem to only be effecting him. No one's really sure why, and Dean refuses to give in to the curse, so you'll just ride this out.

You'll defiantly be able to just ride this out.

Author's Note: I had a lot of fun with this one, I hope you enjoy it!

Title from Normal Fucking Rockwell by Lana Del Ray

Word Count: 6k

You’re losing your mind.

Your skin is on fire, your back is flat on the cold bathroom floor, and you’re moaning and whining and bucking into the air but nothing is fixing this. Nothing is relieving you, not your fingers or the pillows or the toy a very red-faced Sam had bought you. Nothing is going to save you, because only one, stupid, handsome, selfless idiot can, and he’s suddenly too good to just fuck you.

Hell, that idiot is the only reason this is happening. According to Sam and Bobby, Dean got hit with a sex spell in Colorado, you started whimpering for him in South Dakota, and you’re not allowed to have sex with him for… reasons.

Reasons no one seems willing to fully share with you, but reasons.

You know Dean wants you. You’ve known he wants you. Neither of you have ever been able to do something about that—never going beyond flirting and lingering touches and stares—but you’re certain he feels the same way. Maybe not the exact same way, because you want whatever Dean offers you, his body or mind or heart or very soul, but you know he’s attracted to you. And if the countless little pieces of evidence you’ve hoarded in your brain—winks and smirks and long, apperceive scans of your body—weren’t enough for you to know, this was. You’d heard Dean roar your name from outside Bobby’s cabin as the Impala door slammed. You’d seen the feral, lust-blown expression on his face as he’d charged at you. Sam had tackled him to the ground as you’d grown a little dizzy with need, and Bobby grabbed your wrist, dragging you upstairs. Away from Dean, from the cure, from his big hands and soft mouth and huge-

“You’re gonna need to stay in here.” Bobby had muttered, refusing to meet your eyes as he shuffled out of the room. “Least until we get Dean’s head right, or figure out what the hell is going on.”

It’s been almost a day, and they’ve made almost no progress. From Sam’s last update, all they’re certain of is: Sex spell, you and Dean, no other options except you and Dean.

“What do you mean no other options,” you’d said, leaning up to frown at Sam. “Did Dean-“

“No.” Sam shakes his head, giving you a sheepish expression. “I mean, Bobby and I suggested it, but he said no.”

“Oh,” you’d mumbled, falling back down on the mattress. “Why?”

Sam had shrugged, leaning into your line of vision. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

“No, Sam, what the fuck-“

“That’s why.”

He’d stood up and left, and you hadn’t had a clue what the hell he was talking about. Sure, you didn’t want to have sex with him, but he was like a brother to you. Dean, somehow, wasn’t. Dean was Dean. And it wasn’t like you’d say no to a random, no-strings attached hookup right now-

Something had tugged in your gut, and you’d realized—staggering to the toilet and vomiting up your lunch—that you could not do a random hookup. You wanted Dean. You needed him. You might die if you didn’t get him, and it had to be him, and he must feel it too, but when you’d asked Sam he said no.

“No?!” You’d rolled over on the floor to glare up at him, wishing you could find the strength to surge up and punch him in his stupid, apologetic face. “What do you mean No?!”

“Dean, um,” Sam had sighed again, and if he kept doing that you were going to kick him in the balls. “He made us lock him in the safe room. He won’t come out until we cure him.”

“Why did he-“ You’d cut yourself off as it hit you, another, softer wave of sickness rolling over your body. The sickness lived in your heart. This sickness was made of the tragic reality that Dean might want you, but he didn’t want you. Maybe that was why he’d never made a move. Maybe he was attracted to you physically, but couldn’t see you like that, and didn’t really want to try to.

Maybe Dean was disgusted by the idea. Maybe he hated that his body found you hot, because he thinks of you like you think of Sam.

“Oh,” you’d rolled back onto your stomach, and prayed Sam would leave soon so you could go back to humping the floor. “Okay.”

Sam had said your name, waiting until you hummed an acknowledgment to continue. “We’re going to fix this-“

“I know.” You’d let out a long, slow breath, curling into your own body. “We always do.”

They would fix this. And then you’d have to look Dean in the eyes, and find a way to be okay with his rejection. Teach yourself how to not turn into a pining dumbass, chasing after someone who obviously didn’t want you. You wouldn’t lose him, he was your best friend, but you’d also have to learn to pretend it didn’t feel like your heart hadn’t just been ripped out of your chest and stomped on.

And now you’re here. Hoping Sam and Bobby will fix this soon, crawling into the empty bathtub to try and sleep. The bed is too warm, too intimate, to inviting of fantasies that will never be reality. Daydreams of Dean’s hands on you, trailing over your skin and setting of little sparks as he maps your body. Those same hands pushing open your thighs, two of his fingers teasing over your pussy, his mouth wrapping around your nipple as he started pumping and scissoring and crooking inside you-

There’s a knock on the bathroom door, and you yank your own fingers out of your cunt, wiping them on the towel as you speak, your voice far too hoarse. “Yeah, Sam?”

“Not Sam.” Bobby grumbles, his voice slightly muffled through the door. “You decent?”

You toss a towel over your body, having long abandoned clothing. “Yep, is everything-“

You cut yourself off as Bobby pushes the door open, his face angled up to avoid you.

“I said I’m decent, Bobby, you can look.”

He grunts, and you sit up a little straighter, making your voice a little firmer.

“It’s weirder if you don’t, you know.”

Bobby nods, his gaze slowly dropping to yours as he sits on the toilet, bracing his arms on his knees. “Sorry.” He mutters. “Ain’t tryin’ to make it uncomfortable. Just not lookin’ to see one of my, uh-“

“I know,” you sigh, leaning your head back on the tile. “I get it. Must be weird seeing Dean as well.”

“Eh.” Bobby shrugs. “I’ve walked in on him with lady company before, this ain’t new-“

“But it’s new with me?” You ask, raising your brows, and Bobby glares at you.

“I didn’t help raise you girl. And you’re just as important to me as those boys, but you’re also a girl. I mean, not a girl, but I don’t got those parts-“

“Jesus, Bobby.” You mumble, bringing your knees up to your chest. “I’m teasing. I know what you mean, I promise, just,” you swallow, shaking your head slightly. “Sorry. I’m tired.”

Bobby rolls his eyes, but his voice becomes a little softer, and far less panicked. “That ain’t nice, kid, you’re gonna give an old man a heart attack.”

“You’d be fine. I know CPR.”

He gives you a flat look. “We both know you ain’t in any condition to give me CPR.”

You wave him off. “I’d call Sam.”

“He wouldn’t hear you, he’s down in the panic room with-“

Bobby cuts himself off, and you roll your head to the side, giving him a bored glare.

“You can say his name, Bobby.”

“Fine.” He grunts. “Sam’s down checkin’ on Dean. He,” Bobby frowns at the air. “He still ain’t listenin’ to reason.”

You hum, hoping Bobby doesn’t notice how you’ve moved the towel between your thighs, just for something. “Reason?”

“We don’t have anythin’ to cure this except, uh, that way.” Bobby mutters. “And he’s still insistin’ we keep him chained up.”

“Ah.” You swallow. “Awesome.”

Bobby says your name, and it’s gentle. Like he’s consulting a child who’s had a nightmare, instead of a grown woman who was just finger-fucking herself in a tub. “You don’t gotta pretend this ain’t hurtin’ you.”

“I mean, it doesn’t feel good-“

“Not the spell.” Bobby says, and you frown at him.

“What-“

“Dean. He’s bein’ a fuckin’ dumbass, and you don’t need to act like he’s not.”

Your voice drops to a whisper. “He’s not what?”

“Killin’ you.” Bobby grunts, scanning over your face. “Rippin’ your heart out and take a big fat shit on it.”

You grimace. “That’s gross, Bobby-“

“Truth ain’t always sunshine and glitter-“

“It’s not the truth!” You snap, your voice suddenly harsh as something wilts and twists in his your chest. “I’m fine! I get it! Dean doesn’t want to do that, and that’s not his fault.”

Bobby leans back on the toilet, holding your glare with his own. “Why do you think you and Dean are the only idjits gettin’ hit by this? Why isn’t Sam humpin’ pillows and leavin’ stains on my walls?”

You feel a rush of heat from that thought—the image of Dean fucking into his hand flashing through your mind and leaving a mark between your thighs—and your voice is almost a squeak. “Because Dean’s the one that got hit?”

“Sam says he was in the line of that bitch’s fire too. But only Dean got,” Bobby makes a vague gesture over you. “This.”

“I don’t-“

“And Sam ain’t in love with his fuckin’ brother, so he was safe.”

You flush, gaping at Bobby for a long, wired silence, and when you speak your voice is a squeak.

“I- I’m, I’m not in love with Dean. I mean, maybe I have a crush, or something, but that’s, that’s not love-“

Bobby gives you a flat, disbelieving look. “You feel safer ‘round him?”

“Yeah, but I-“

“You laugh at all his jokes?”

“Maybe, but he can be funny-“

Bobby mutters your name, shaking his head. “I love that boy like a son, and he ain’t half as funny as he thinks he is.”

You frown. “He’s funny-“

“He can be,” Bobby shrugs. “But his jokes ain’t all winners. And you laugh at every single oneof ‘em. And,” he sighs, rubbing his beard. “He laughs at all’a your jokes.”

“Hey.” You scowl. “I’m a riot-“

“Didn’t say you weren’t. But even you can miss, girl. And he never seems to care.”

“So?” You shuffle on the floor, desperate not to starting grinding on the air in front of Bobby, but getting more and more wet from just the mention of Dean. “We’re friends, friends laugh at each other’s jokes-“

“Do friends get connected by sex spells ‘cross state lines?”

“I dunno,” you mumble. “Never been hit by a sex spell before.”

“You weren’t hit by one,” Bobby snaps your name, starting to sound exasperated. “Dean was. And that’s my damn point. Sam and I, we,” he sighs, giving you a long, confusing look. “We got it. We know what’s goin’ on.”

“Fuck,” you sit up, glowering at him. “Why didn’t you lead with that-“

“Cause you ain’t gonna like it.” Bobby grunts. “It’s an old location spell. Back in the day rich assholes would cast it on their highest eldest sons, so he could find his,” Bobby cringes, his last word pushed through his teeth. “Mate.”

“Mate?” You repeat, letting out a dry, huffing laugh. “What are we, fucking dogs-“

“Soulmate.” Bobby mutters, giving you a look that might have been sympathetic, or kind, or pitiful, but you’re suddenly a little dizzy and can’t really think or see.

“That’s not,” you shake your head. “No, Bobby, soulmates aren’t real-“

Bobby says your name, his voice stern. “You should know better than to say somethin’ like that in our line of work. Sam called Cas, and he said they’re real, but population increases or somethin’ made them ‘logistically impossible’, so they aren’t on the shop line no more.”

“But- But wouldn’t we have like, I don’t know, noticed? If that was true?”

“You shoulda.” Bobby shrugs. “Cas seemed pretty shocked you hadn’t. Said he had assumed you knew, because the pull is like a magnet or some shit. Spell’s only an enhancer, to move the train along.”

“So why-“

“You hopped in right after Dean got back from hell.” Bobby mutters. “Dean’s soul mighta been fucked enough not to recognize you. Spell mighta jumpstarted it.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.”

It’s a few minutes before you speak again, and Bobby waits patiently as you spiral. Down, down, down in your head, trying to rationalize how this could possibly be true. It couldn’t be true. There was no way it was true. Sure, you’ve liked Dean since you first met him, from the moment he introduced himself with a cocky grin, smirk, and fake name. You liked him even more when you called him out on his fake name, and he’d just chuckled, figured out you were a hunter, and offered to buy you a drink. You’d liked him when that drink had turned into a long, sleepless night of only conversation, and when you’d joined him and Sam on the road. And you’d kept thinking of him like that, and you thought of him all the time, but that didn’t mean anything. You didn’t love him. It’s not like you feel better when you wake up in a motel bed and he’s next to you, or a smile always tugs at your lips whenever he so much as looks at you, or the thought of him being in alone or pain makes you physically ill. It’s not like, if he grabbed your hand and told you he was done with hunting—the only life you’d ever both known—then asked you to join him in a boring, easy apple pie life you’d immediately say yes and kiss him, because you’ll go wherever he goes and he’s the only person you’ve ever really-

Oh.

You might be in love with Dean.

You might be soulmates with Dean.

“What, um,” you swallow, watching Bobby carefully. “What did Dean think? Of this?”

“We have told him yet.” Bobby’s jaw ticks, holding your gaze. “We ain’t sure he’ll-“

“Yeah.” You whisper, turning your attention back to the ceiling. There’s a little crack on it. Jagged and split through the white paint, easy to stare at and get lost in. Helpful in pretending this doesn’t hurt like a bitch. “Okay.”

Bobby mutters a promise of at least trying to talk some sense into Dean, but you both know his words are empty. Because Dean won’t believe this. It won’t be a matter of you and Dean, it will just be Dean, believing something like a soulmate could never happen to someone like him. He’ll insist they’re lying, or Cas is wrong, or all of this fucking bullshit.

“You ever wondered about aliens?” He’d asked you once, leaning against the Impala as you lay on the hood, watching him from an upside-down angle.

“Just like, in general?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess,” you’d tilted your head at him. “Why?”

“I dunno, just curious.” There had been another moment of silence, then, “You think they’re real?”

“They have to be right?” You’d reached over your head, grabbing his chin and tilting it up, until he was staring at the night sky. “I mean, look at that, De. It’s huge.”

He’d chuckled, swatting your hand away. “Where have I heard that before-“

“Eat me, Winchester.” You’d rolled your eyes, and his shit-eating grin had grown. “No. Shut it.”

He’d raised his hands in surrender. “Didn’t say a thing.”

“Uh huh.” You’d let your own attention trail up, over the vast darkness above you, splattered in infinite stars that you think—if you really tried—you’d be able to grab and hold in your hands. Maybe offer one to Dean. He’d deserve it.

You were silent for a while longer, you watching the sky, Dean waiting for you to come back to earth, and when he’d spoken again his voice was soft.

“You think you’d want to go? If they were?”

You’d looked back to him with a frown, and found him already looking at you. “What, aliens?”

He’d nodded, and you’d furrowed your brow in thought.

“Maybe. I’ve never thought about it before. I kind of like Earth.” You’d rolled onto your stomach, swinging your legs around to rest in Baby’s open window as you looked down at Dean. “What about you?”

“Nah,” he’d held your gaze, pulling himself up to sit at your side. “Not now.”

“Not now?”

“I would’ve when I was younger, if I coulda taken Sammy with me.” Dean had let out a dry chuckle. “But I’m not that lucky.”

He wasn’t that lucky. Dean didn’t get to be abducted by aliens, because he wasn’t lucky. Because saviors and little lights to guide you forward don’t just drop out of the sky.

But you didn’t drop out of the sky. You’d been on the ground, and tangible, and very, very real.

You feel real, to yourself. You didn’t feel like a possibility, or a myth, or a lie.

And you might love Dean.

And you know that, the longer you don’t get to at least see him, touch him, breathe him, the more you go mad. The harder it becomes to speak to Sam and Bobby when they check on you, the less you allow them to even say the word Dean, because it makes you writhe and moan and everyone just gets very uncomfortable.

So if Dean’s too much of a righteous, noble, self-loathing buttface to do something about this, you will.

You wait until the house is dark and quiet. Until you hear Bobby mutter a goodnight through the door—about an hour ago you’d started whining every other breath and fucking the edge of the bathtub, so Bobby wasn’t coming into the room anymore—and Sam walks in backwards to make sure you’re not dead and have enough food and water. Like you’re a caged animal.

You do feel a little like one. You feel like someone’s sucked everything rational and careful out of your brain and replaced it with Dean. Dean, Dean, Dean, you need him or you’ll die. He needs to need you, or something worse than death will happen.

And you’re willing to risk that, that small possibility of Dean looking at you—bare and wet and pleading for him—and still turning you away, because at least you’ll see him.

You need to at least see him.

It’s shocking easy to sneak around the house. For two seasoned, well-respected hunters, neither Sam nor Bobby seem to wake up as you crawl down to Dean, despite the floorboard creaking under you movements and the downright pathetic whimpers that keep escaping your mouth. It takes all your focus to grab the key to Bobby’s panic room, unlock the door, and push it open.

It’s dark. Pitch black. But you know Dean’s in here, because every nerve is trying to fly off your body and into the shadows. To Dean.

“What the hell are you doing,” Dean groans your name from the back of the room, and you feel molten. “You can’t be here-“

“It’s not your panic room, Dean.” You mumble, pushing yourself up on the wall and fiddling around for the light switch. “I can be wherever I want-“

“Not here.” Dean snaps. “Go.”

You shake your head, and the lights blind you as you flip them on. It takes a moment to adjust—blinking and hugging your body in a desperate play to not leap across the room to Dean the moment you see him—and when you do a high whine escapes your mouth.

Dean looks as feral as you feel. He’s just as naked as you are, just as drenched in sweat and flushed, and—if the proud, massive cock between his legs, standing at full attention and twitching as he scans over you, is any sign—just as aroused.

“Dean.” You whisper. “Please.”

“You need to leave.” He grunts, his fists clenched at his sides. “Now.”

“I don’t want to go-“

“Yes, you do.”

You frown. “You don’t get to tell me what I want, Dean. I want to stay-“

“No,” he hisses, and you might come just from him looking at you like that. Primal and wanting, with a gleam in his eyes that feels like a promise. “You don’t know what you want-“

That gets you to scoff. “Fuck off, asshole-“

“See!” He makes a dramatic gesture, then flinches back from himself. “I, I can’t let you do this. You don’t want me,” Dean mutters your name, running a hand over his face. “The spell wants me. Doesn’t count.”

“Yeah, the spell does want you, you idiot!” You take an unsteady step forward, and he steps back. “Because I want you!”

“No, you don’t-“

“Yes, I do! I need you, Dean, and I think you need me-“

“Doesn’t matter what I need.” He grunts, bracing his body and you take another step. “Go back upstairs.”

“Did Bobby talk to you?”

He scowls. “Bobby’s wrong. That’s- No.”

“Because it’s me?”

“Of course not,” he snaps, and it’s too quick. “Because that, that’s not a thing. People would be runnin’ around, selling soulmates in little bottles if they were real. And we’d have known by now-“

“We do know now.” You whisper, swaying slightly in the middle of the room. “And Cas says-“

“Cas is wrong.” Dean mutters. “I don’t, there’s no way that’s true. Not for me.”

His beautiful, deep eyes look so sad. Glossed over and weighted down of years of that being the truth. That things like that, like this, don’t happen for Dean.

You’d really love to be the first exception.

“What about for me?”

“What are you-“

“What about for me, Dean.” You watch his jaw clench, his nostrils flaring. “Does it get to be true for me?”

He doesn’t answer, and you push on.

“If it’s true for me, it’s you.” You talk another step forward, and this time he doesn’t flinch. “Just you.”

“It’s just the spell.” He mutters, and you don’t think he’s convincing himself. Not when his throat bobs and his eyes darken. “You don’t want me, baby, not really.”

You almost fall over from that. From Dean calling you baby, and saying it the exact same way he says your name. Low and rolling and lined with something soft.

“I do.” You hold your ground, raising your chin. “I want you, Dean Winchester. Fix this.”

He shakes his head, barely a jerked movement, and you start to feel a little faint.

“Dean. I need you to look me in the eyes,” your voice starts to rise, growing pleading and frantic. “And tell me you don’t want me. Say that you wanting me is just the spell, and I’ll go. I promise. I just need to you to fucking say it, Dean, just fucking say you don’t want me or need me or love me-“

He moves before you even realize what’s happening. Almost leaping onto you as his mouth crashed into yours, his hands cupping your face as he walks you back, back, back into the wall and growls down your throat. And you’d been wrong. His hand on you don’t feel like small bursts of electricity. They’re like lighting. Dragging something you hadn’t known existed to the surface, and setting off a storm of need in your body.

“Course I want you,” one arm snakes around your waist, pressing your right into his erection. “Always fucking wanted you. You’re smoking hot,” he starts to kiss over your face, his words slightly muffled against your skin as you cling to his body. “Funnier than I am, and smart as hell. You feel like home and smell so good and, fuck, I’ve lost sleep thinkin’ about how it’d feel to get lost in you. I’d have to be fucking blind and dumb not to want you,” Dean grunts your name, returning your mouth to yours with a painfully soft, gentle, featherlight kiss. “But I’m not-“

“If you say good for me,” you mutter, leaning back to glare at him. “I’ll punch you.” He chuckles, and it’s dry and low, rumbling from his chest into yours. “I’m not-“

“You are.” You whisper, offering him a small, slightly broken smile. You need him to get this. You might start crying if he doesn’t. “You’re good for me. And I want you. I love you.” Something flashes in his eyes, and you don’t care if he believes you. He doesn’t have to believe you. He just needs to get it. “No spell, Dean. I’m here, and I’m yours. Take me.”

Your nails dig into his skin—attempting to leave a mark of him if he turns you away—and his breathing is ragged. Heavy and hot, fanning across your face as he stares at you, just stares at you, why is he just staring at you-

“Dean-“

This kiss is brutal It’s teeth and tongue and bruising lips, like he’s trying to move into your body. His hands are everywhere on you, squeezing your ass and palming your tits, rolling your nipple between two fingers before groaning down your throat when you moan.

“Fuck,” Dean mutters your name, his hand on your ass glides onto your pussy, playing with your folds and flicking at your clit once, twice, three times and you feel fucking high- “So wet for me-“

“For you,” you whimper, nodding stupidly as Dean presses him thumb down on that bundle of nerves, rubbing slowly. “Fuck, Dean, all for you-“ 

“Need to taste you,” he growls, pulling his mouth fully back, watching you grind onto his hand with a dark gaze. “You gonna let me taste you, baby? Let me eat that pretty pussy-“ 

You’ve barely nodded before he’s on his knees, one arm still around your waist to support you both as he dives into your cunt. 

Oh.

He’s good at this. Really, really fucking good at this. You can’t really think anything that’s not Dean, or make any noise that’s not a moan kind of good at this. He’s ravenous and starved, his nose bumping and pressing into your clit in an impossibly mind-numbing rhythm, his tongue plunging in and out of your cunt until your squirming above him, desperate for more.

“Dean,” your hand tug at his hair, and you don’t know if you’re trying to push him deeper or pull him away. “Shit, Dean, I’m gonna cum-“

He groans against you, his eyes opening to watch you come apart above him, and you think he might be getting off on this.

“Please,” you whimper. “God, please, I need to cum-“

Dean bites your clit, and your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave. It’s all bliss and relief and a high, bright haze of Dean, and then you’re falling down.

Dean’s pulling you down. Onto his lap as he leans back, moving you to straddle over him as his cock throbs between his legs.

You want to touch him.

You push back on him, just enough for his grip to loosen, and take him in your hand. He’s huge. And pretty. Dicks aren’t supposed to be pretty, but Dean’s is, and it might be because every part of Dean is pretty. Every part of him is impossible pretty, from his cock twitching in your hand as you run your thumb over the slit, to his lidded eyes and parted mouth as he watches you with wonder.

“Shit,” he moans your name, and fuck, even that was pretty. “What are you doing to me-“

“Handjob,” you whisper, placing your free hand lightly on his chest in a silent request for him to lay back. “I think.”

Dean huffs a laugh, leaning back with a smirk. “Ya think? You sure you know what you’re doing with that- Fuck-“

You hum around Dean’s cock, your lips wrapped around the base as your tongue swirls around his shaft, and his groans are sinful. The fire in your corse hadn’t lessened by any means from your orgasm, but it grows unbearable as you move Dean’s hand to your hair and let him guide you up and down. Let him set the pace, moaning when his hips jerk and he hits the back of your throat, and squeezing his thighs in silent reassurance that you’re good. You’re really, really good. You’re grinding onto Dean’s knee as he fucks your face, playing with his balls with your free hand and devouring every bit of slightly slurred praise that falls from his mouth.

“Fucking hell, baby, you always been this good at sucking cock? You’re, shit, you look like a wet dream, look like an angel, fuck.” He hisses at your teeth graze over him. “You look so good like this. Mouth stuffed full of cock, desperate and wet for me-“ You roll your hips against him, and Dean tugs you fully up, smirking at your swollen lips and glossy eyes. “Careful,” he warns, sitting up as his thumb swipes a little bit of drool from your cheek. “When I’m cumming tonight, I’m cumming in you, baby, got that?”

“Yes, please,” you whimper. You’re on the pill anyway. “Dean-“

“C’mere.” He tugs you into his lap with careful hands, scanning over you with a small shake of his head. “Son of bitch, you’re gorgeous. You’re sure you-“

“I’m sure.” You grind against his cock, never looking away from him as the head of him bumps your clit. It goes on for too long, Dean just watching you fuck yourself on his lap with his hands bruising your hips, and you start to whine. “Shit, Dean, need you-“

Dean surges forward, kissing you long and deep and slow, and keeps his brow pressed to yours as he looks down to where you’re moving on him.

“Hold on,” he mutters, and you follow the order without a second thought.

Your arms wrap around Dean’s neck just as he lines himself up, and you almost scream when he pushes into you.

“Shit,” he looks back at you, eyes wide. “Are you-“

“Don’t stop,” you moan, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Fuck, it feels so good, Dean, don’t stop.”

He nods, kissing the side of your head, and slowly moves into your aching pussy until he bottoms out with a long exhale.

“Gonna, fuck-“ He groans as you squeeze around him. “Can’t do that, baby, I won’t last a minute-

“Sorry,” you mumble against him, playing with the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck. “Didn’t meant to-“

“It’s fine.” He grunts, still not moving. “Just, fuck, you feel so good. So warm,” he groans, pressing his face onto the top of your head. “So tight and warm, feel so good-“

“Dean, please-“

You gasp as he gives one, short thrust upward.

“So good,” Dean growls in your ear, making another small, dizzying movement that presses him right up against that spongey spot deep inside of you. “Ready?”

“Ye-“

You squeal as Dean rises to his knees, keeping himself sheathed inside you as he falls forward, his hand splayed on your back and holding you carefully against him. His face is resting between your breasts, his cock angled so deep inside you it might drive you insane if he doesn’t start to fucking move, and his eyes stay yours as you only watch each other for a long moment.

He’s asking permission. Dean’s not pulling away, but he’s also not moving, because he’s offering you one last chance to turn him down. 

You move one hand to hold his face, wrapping your legs around his waist and squirming around him in silent encouragement.

It snaps something in him. Dean grabs your hand, moves it onto the back of his neck, and lowers you fully onto the ground so you’re caged between him and floor. He scans over you for only a second, a small, cocky smirk crawling onto his face, leans down to give you one last, almost sweet kiss.

A soft moan leaves you as Dean traces his tongue over your lips, and his low growl is the only warning you get before he starts to fuck into you like an animal.

It’s sloppy and wet and loud, skin slapping against skin as Dean abuses your cunt, and fuck you’ve never felt better. You feel full, split open on his cock and right where you belong, alive in a way that seeps right into your soul and ignites your blood into a holy fire of Dean. Groaning your name on your skin and touching you with calloused, big, expert hands. Watching you as you unravel beneath him, scraping your nails over his back and making needy sounds that only spur him on.

You’re going to fly out of your body. Dean’s muscles are ripping above and around you as he fucks you into the floor, and his mouth is mold perfectly onto yours. Neither of you seem to care to breathe, or speak, or do anything but nips and suck and lick at each other. Trying to get impossibly closer, to drag the other over the edge so you can fall with them. You grind up into Dean, and Dean bites your lip. Dean rolls his hips as he bottoms out, making your mouth fall open for his tongue to plunge down your throat, and you scrape and claw as his chest until he groans, and you manage to slip one hand down to play with his balls.

He wins he swats your hand away and starts to rub small, firm circles on your clit. He’s unrelenting, and watching you with an affection that feels a little misplaced for the carnal hunger on his handsome features.

“Always want you,” he mutters your name, pressing his thumb flat against you. “Cum for me, baby.”

Your vision blurs as you find release, and it feels like heaven. Like stars and fire and water and light under your skin, in your blood, like a halo around your head that’s all just the pleasure Dean’s is still wringing from your body. Your pussy is fluttering and gushing around his cock, and it sends him over the edge with a roar, his hips slamming home as he paints the walls of your cunt white.

And when you’re both spent and Dean rolls you over—carefully adjusting you to be right on top of him, his body a barrier between you and the now-cold floor—you feel good. Really, really good. Fucked out and high, nothing trying to burst out of your skin or eat at your stomach. You feel better than you might have ever felt in your whole life. The only warmth in your body is heat you’re trading with Dean, and you feel good.

“We, um.” You trace over his tattoo, looking up at him under your eyelashes. “We should probably talk, or something-“

“Or something.” He agrees, grinning down at you. “Don’t feel like it’s a rush though. Sammy and Bobby will find us in the morning. Right now,” Dean kisses your brow, squeezing his arms around your body. “You’re all mine.”

You can be all his. It’ll be really, really easy to be all Dean, because he hasn’t said he loves you, but he does. You know he does. It lives in how he’s still touching and holding you, still talking to you like you’re his best friend and not a mistake, and running his hands through your hair mindlessly.

And you’ll have a lot to talk about later. A lot to fight about, and fuck about, and laugh and cry and scream about.

But right now you just have to be Dean’s.

And that will be really easy.

End Note: Bobby Singer you are fifty times the father John Winchester could ever HOPE to be.

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Taglist

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery

[yameoto]

giving fuckgirl!cait (+basketball) the best head of her life (she still doesn’t know what the hell to do about it)

sub!caitlyn, blowjobs, caitlyn cums in approx 2 seconds and is then humiliated, smut n fluff, ohhh she’s definitely in love with you

fuckgirl!cait who is just a little needy. the first time you ask her she’s all wide-eyed and her mouth is dry and suddenly she’s nervous for the first time in her life. which makes zero sense because (“not to sound like a dickhead—“ “prefacing that everytime doesn’t make you any less of a dickhead, cait.”) she’s been bobbing her cock down willing girls’ throats since she hit puberty. to destress or for fun or if she felt like it. whatever. the point is; she’s well-versed in this.

so, why her palms are suddenly sweating and her cheeks are glowing she has no idea. croaks. “uhm. are you sure? because you really don’t have to—“ like she hasn’t been harassing you for the past couple months and even if she’s had countless fantasies of this moment; imagining you, and your plush, soft lips wrapped around her cock as she splatters her load against the shower wall or a tissue or her dedicated cumsock (ok, sometimes she is just a jock. sue her. she’s a busy woman! and she, admittedly, no longer has a maid waiting on her beck and call.)

you laugh, all deep and throaty and it makes caitlyn want to sink between your couch cushions and die.

“what’s with the deer in the headlights look?” you’ll never grow tired of teasing her, even if you no longer think of her as the arrogant basketball prick who pads around you like a lost puppy and instead; now, something closer to an.. acquaintance with benefits.

(caitlyn has no clue how she made it this far with you. it’s like you just randomly decided to give her a shot one day, on a whim, and she desperately doesn’t want to blow it. even if acquaintance-with-benefits is a title that disgruntles her, at the very least. hurts, at the very most. like, very very most, okay?)

“i just..” caitlyn lets out a quiet whine when your fingers curl against the hem of her basketball shorts and—ah, shit. and now she’s hard. “now look what you’ve done.” she hisses, though she’s not quite sure what she expected when you texted her for netflix and chill like it’s still the 2010s.

“there’s that pretty thing.” you completely ignore her in favour of continuing your blasted teasing, fingers snaking underneath her waistband and pulling, guiding the shorts down the sharp v-line at her crotch and eyes travelling down the fine, inky lines of her happy trail to the spring of her cock, over the edge; half-glazed and all pretty and pink.

“you really want to..?” she doesn’t know why she keeps backtracking, like she hasn’t been talking and talking about how fucking good she’d be. and now that it’s really happening she’s getting cold feet, of all things.

“it’s just a blow, cait.” you roll your eyes.

right. just a blow. like she’s done, a million times before. god. god. she doesn’t know where the fuck this performance anxiety has suddenly arose from (pun unintended). she’s (gracefully and intentionally) bruised countless girls’ throats, for fuck’s sake. twisted her hand in the hair and yanked them sharply with each forceful snap of her hips, and told them to swallow without so much as a blink.

except you—you—

“mmgh—“ caitlyn throws her had back, as she lets out an exceedingly unflattering grunt, with the gusto in which you take her into her mouth. your tongue swirls, along her tip, and—hah—her mind melts to butter. her eyes are all cloudy, head spinning. “wait—mmf—i didnt—“

caitlyn’s hips buck, heedlessly, into your mouth. fuck. she usually has more rhythm than this. more—control. but then your tongue is sliding underneath and your hand running over to curl around her base and she’s rutting upwards aimlessly, like some stupid teenage boy who doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing. only that—shit—she’s never felt this good in her life and this is not just a blow—this is the most beautiful, nirvana-inducing, mind-shattering experience she could’ve ever—ungh.

oh.

oh, nononono. nono— no. she didn’t just—

your mouth hangs open, still, as you stare up at her with wide, surprised eyes; throat bobbing as if you were preparing to maybe do that really hot vacuum-type motion again except there’s kind of no fucking point because her dick is twitching uselessly as it slips out of your mouth and she watches in horror, as cum drizzles down your chin.

you swallow. caitlyn dreads that glimmer in your eyes, already.

“i usually—i last longer than that!” caitlyn’s cheeks are beet-red and she’s blinking up at you with those big, sad blue eyes and you’re laughing. crawling on top of her stomach as her dick presses flush and sticky against your lower torso and you’re laughing at her plight. ok, that’s it. it’s over. her reputation that she’s fought and fucked so hard for is dead and gone. she’s got to pack her bags, move countries, and start over.

she buries her face into the crook of your neck. surprisingly, you don’t push her away. “you can’t tell anyone.” she orders, petulant. she’s fucking humiliated.

“why would i tell anyone?” you snort. she whines.

“i don’t want you to think—“ caitlyn digs her short-cut nails into palms, looking frustrated; brows knit and cheeks still flushed, stray strands of hair a mess against her forehead. “i didn’t come over just for a blow.”

“i know, cait.”

caitlyn doesn’t know how much you know, frankly, because she doesn’t know how much she knows—considering she’s just had the most earth-quaking orgasm of her life in all but two seconds like some lame loser virgin and not the cool, suave playgirl that caitlyn kiramman is so known to be; but you’re sinking back into her arms and letting her keep leaking leftover dribbles into your couch as she clings and maybe, she doesn’t care. just wants to stay like this for a little while, and blink the spots out of her vision.

“i’m normally really very good.” she insists, words spilling out in an accented rush against your skin, half-slurred. “seriously.”

“caitlyn.”

“seriously!”

[grumpypixistix]

The lab assistant

Scientist!Miguel O’Hara x Shy!Reader

Warnings- Face sitting, slight corruption kink, slightly perverted!Miguel (if you squint), co-workers being dickheads, semi-public sex (let me know if I missed anything! )

MINORS DNI 18+

You had been working at Alchemax for a few months now. A few of your colleagues were generous enough to introduce you to the workplace and the other workers, but there was one person you couldn’t keep your eyes off of.

Miguel O’Hara.

When you first introduced yourself to him, he had already taken a liking to you. Something about how shy yet sweet you were made his pulse quicken and his cheeks burn. The way you smiled at him as you tried to introduce yourself, nervous about your first day at Alchemax. But you quickly felt at home when Miguel began to bond with you by taking over your “tour” of the place, making great conversation. Soon enough, your shell had cracked and you started talking about your personal interests, how you got hired, etc.

About a week after that day, he went home and couldn’t stop thinking about you for some reason. He didn’t know what to make of it, thinking it wasn’t too serious.

But then you started appearing in his dreams.

Miguel would dream about leaving marks everywhere on your body to claim you as his, fucking every ounce of innocence out of you.

And when he would wake up in a cold sweat, his cock was nearly on the verge of exploding, precum dripping everywhere. He felt guilty about it afterwards, it was just wrong for him to think about his colleague like that.

But you plagued his mind consistently. The dreams slowly turned into daily thoughts that he finally caved into, fisting his cock at least four times a day to the thought of your body. But you had no clue what he was doing after he got off of work. You just assumed that he only saw you as a co-worker and nothing else, maybe even a good friend.

But God, were you so far off from the truth.

As you entered the building for another shift of the week, your boss had approached you with some new information.

“I’m really sorry this is a last minute notice, but I need you to stay a little later. I tried to get some other people to stay instead, but all of them couldn’t do it… but on the bright side, Miguel volunteered to stay, so you won’t be completely alone.”

Great, just what you needed. A longer shift after your horrible week.

Even though some of your colleagues were nice to you, there was a group that wasn’t as generous as them. Some of them claimed that you were too clumsy or stupid to be an assistant, others claimed you were like a lost dog or a prude. Whatever they said, you tried not to pay attention to it too much. But there were days where it would get to you, and this week happened to have a bunch of those days.

You just nodded at your boss and shot him the best smile you could muster up.

“Alright then, that shouldn’t be a problem, sir” You said in a friendly tone.

“At least Miguel will be here with me… maybe I can talk to him, get my stress out” You thought to yourself as you walked off to start your shift.

When you walked into the lab and took your coat off of the hanger, you could hear some voices from the other side of the room.

“Oh great, look who’s here.”

“God, I don’t even know why she’s still here. She should’ve been fired months ago, she doesn’t even know what she’s doing.”

“I’m surprised Miguel even hangs out with her, she’s such a prude.”

“Hell, you should’ve seen the look on her face yesterday. She practically bursted into tears when we called her useless.”

The other comments stung a little, but what got you the most was the part about Miguel. Sure, you had developed a small crush on him, but that had nothing to do with your guy’s friendship. The fact that the other colleagues had judged your bond just to get a laugh hurt you more than you felt it should’ve.

God forbid if they ever found out about your feelings for Miguel… you couldn’t help but become paranoid over the idea.

As you tried to ignore the group across the room and focus on your tasks, it seemed that one of them had read your mind and called you over.

Shit.

“Hey, newbie! Come over here real quick, we gotta ask you somethin“ One of your colleagues called out.

Your heart pounded hard inside your chest, quietly gulping before walking over to the group with a small sigh.

“What do you need?” You asked gently, silently praying it was something work-related and not just making fun of you again.

Some of the others chuckled and chattered a little bit before falling quiet.

“Sooo, you’re friends with Miguel, right?” The female colleague from before asked.

Your palms began to grow sweaty as sirens went off in your mind, biting your cheek before answering.

“Yeah, why?” You raised your brow at your co-worker.

Your co-worker slowly smiled. Oh no.

“Well, we were just thinking… with the way you act around him and all… you definitely have a thing for him, don’t you?”

Your whole chest sunk to your stomach, wishing this was just some horrible dream and that you would wake up soon. Trying to play it off, your eyes widened at the question and you shook your head vigorously.

“What?? No, he’s just my friend-“

“That wasn’t my question. I asked if you have a thing for him” She cuts off coldly.

Some of the others snickered quietly, making your throat close up as you tried to hold your emotions back. Your face contorted into confusion at the strange question, the others taking notice of it.

“Oh my god, she’s clueless” One of the colleagues muttered with a small chuckle.

Your co-worker lets out a small laugh as she noticed your face, clicking her tongue and shaking her head.

“Here, let me dumb it down for you: do you ever fantasize about having sex with Miguel?”

Your whole face flushed bright red as it clicked into your head, slowly shaking your head.

“N- No… that’s… that’s wrong” You stuttered, looking at your co-worker.

She stares at you with a raised brow, not believing you at all.

“Okay, sure… but you still like him, right? Being a prude and all, surely you at least have a crush on him.”

“Please, don’t call me that-“

“Or what? Huh? You gonna run off to your little boyfriend and cry in his arms? I’m sure he’ll baby you, he does every time he sees you” She hisses.

The feeling in your throat grew even stronger, your eyes slowly beginning to water. But you didn’t want to prove her theory, so you just stood there silently, not knowing what else to say. As the silence grew more, some of the colleagues just laughed.

“Wow… you really are stupid, aren’t you?”

“Who’s stupid?” A voice emerges from the entrance of the room, making everyone fall silent.

It was Miguel, standing with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. The group of colleagues weren’t laughing or smiling anymore- instead, they actually looked nervous. The female coworker looked over at you for a quick moment before flashing a smile at Miguel.

“Oh, nothing! It was just something we were talking about from yesterday. Right, hon?” The co-worker said in an overly sweet tone, forcing herself to smile at you.

You froze, not wanting anymore conflict with the group, so you just went along with it. You quietly nodded your head and looked over at Miguel, giving your best smile.

“Mhm, it was just stuff from yesterday” You mustered up as your voice shook a little.

Miguel didn’t buy it at all, seeing how your eyes glistened, tears threatening to leave them at any second. He shot your co-worker a glare before looking back at you, a sigh leaving his lips.

“Ah, alright then… do you have the paperwork from last week? I just wanna make sure everything is right” Miguel spoke to you, his face softening a little.

You quickly nodded and walked away from the group to your clipboard that was in one of the desk drawers, skimming through the pile of papers to look for the documents. The group just watched as you eventually found the papers Miguel was referring to, handing them to him. He took out his glasses from his coat pocket and put them on, reading the sheet of paper. After a few moments of silence, Miguel took off his glasses and looked over at you, handing the paper back.

“This is perfect. Thank you, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ve ever seen paperwork better than this and I’ve worked here longer than anyone else has” Miguel praised, a gentle smile formed on his lips.

“Thank you, Miguel. That means a lot to me” You hummed in appreciation, returning the smile.

The praise alone made you forget about the whole situation from earlier, but the smile comforted you even more. Your cheeks burned up as you felt your whole body tingle, a small smile creeping up your lips. The feeling Miguel made you have was insatiable, you just couldn’t get enough of it. You wanted more of him, to have his lips on yours…

You almost forgot that there were other people in the room. Almost.

The sound of low muttering made your head turn towards the group, the co-worker giving you a dirty look before the group parted separate ways. You set the paper on the table and Miguel leans down to whisper in your ear.

“We’ll talk about this later.”

Your head spun when you felt his warm breath tickle your skin, almost not realizing what he just said. When you finally processed it, you looked at Miguel and nodded a little. For once, you were actually kind of glad your boss made you work later.



After hours of working and following Miguel around for assistance (as he asked for your presence), it was time for the others to go home. Usually, you would be getting off at this time, but since you had to stay later, that meant you would have to pick up dinner on your way back home. You didn’t really mind since it would save you time and energy to make food at home.

Plus you didn’t mind since it meant you could spend more time with Miguel.

Speaking of which, you couldn’t help but notice something was a little off with him. You assumed it was because of what happened earlier, because he seemed a little more tense than normal. But after everyone had left, he looked over at you, glad that the two of you were finally alone. You were finishing out today’s paperwork, slouching over the desk as you tried to fight off your tiredness. Miguel walked over to you and gently took the pen out of your hand, turning your chair around to face him.

“Everyone left, it’s just us. Now… about what happened earlier…” Miguel started, bending down to your height, “Tell me. What exactly did they say to you?”

Your face burned up a little as his face was inches away from yours, struggling to find your words. He just stared at you, waiting for an answer. But after a few moments of silence, his face softened and he let out a small breath, resting his large hand on your thigh.

“I won’t say a word to anyone, I promise. I just want to know what’s wrong… when I got here, you were on the verge of tears” Miguel spoke softly.

The feeling of his hand on your thigh made your chest flutter and your stomach turn, trying to keep your composure as much as you could. He was only just trying to comfort you… right?

“They… they were asking me questions…” You began, still debating whether or not you should leave out a few details.

Miguel hummed a little as he listened to you, his other hand now on your other thigh as he gently caressed your skin. Your stomach felt fuzzy and warm, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Questions about what? C’mon hermosa, you can tell me” He coos, tucking a small strand of hair out of your face.

You swallowed hard and bit your lip hard before answering hesitantly.

“They were… questions a- about you.”

Miguel stopped and looked at you, gently grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him.

“What did they ask about me?”

You stared up at him for a few moments and finally spoke again.

“They… they were asking if… I liked you” You whispered quietly.

That caught Miguel off-guard.

His eyes widened at you just the slightest, analyzing your face to see if you were messing with him. Once he noticed your flushed cheeks and nervous look, he knew you weren’t joking. After a moment of tense silence, Miguel licked his lips and started talking.

“…Do you?” Miguel asked lowly, looking down at your lips and up at your eyes.

His question had you in a slight panic, weighing out the odds. If you told him how you felt, it would either change your entire friendship or you would be stuck working alone for the rest of your time at Alchemax. Either one of those options sounded horrible, but if you didn’t tell him now, you were certain the group from earlier would do it eventually. Your heart raced so quick, Miguel swore he could hear it clearly. A shaky sigh left your lips and you nodded at him.

“Yeah… I do” You mumbled, scared that he would react negatively.

But instead, Miguel just chuckled softly and smiled at you, his hand cupping your face and his thumb dragging down your bottom lip.

“That’s good to know… because I’ve also liked you for quite some time now” Miguel responded, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

Your eyes widened at his response, a look of hope on your face as you slowly smiled.

“Really?” You squeaked.

Miguel chuckled again and nodded at you, his eyes flicking down to your lips.

“Of course I do… how could I not?” He whispered, his face slowly inching closer to yours.

Your face flushed all the way to your ears, finding yourself drifting towards him. Closer, closer and closer until you finally feel his warm lips on yours. It felt like hundreds of fireworks were exploding in your chest, slowly wrapping your arms around him and holding Miguel close. You were almost afraid to let go, and he seemed to notice this. Miguel gently moved his hands down to your waist, pulling you up out of the chair and into his arms. The more you kissed him, the harder it became for Miguel to keep his composure. He wanted to take things slow with you, not wanting to scare you away. But God, was it a challenge for him to just keep his hands on your hips.

After a little bit, Miguel finally broke the kiss to catch his breath, already panting softly. He looked at you and let out a groan that awoken something inside you.

“Shit, do you have any idea what you do to me?” Miguel huffed quietly, his thumbs barely peeking up the hem of your shirt and rubbing the bare skin of your stomach.

You just stared up at him, your mind still foggy from the kiss you two had shared moments ago. You shook your head with a quiet “No…”

Miguel sighed and looked down at your chest, his cock twitching inside his pants. He didn’t even bother hiding his erection anymore, moving your hips against his to show you the effect you had on him. You let out a gasp at the strange feeling, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your whole body felt hot now.

“I can’t help it… you’re just so fucking sweet… you haunt me in my dreams, I swear to god. Every night when I go to bed, all I can dream about is you and that fucking body of yours… all just for me.”

Your eyes widened at his words, not expecting him to say those kind of things to you. Normally, you’d be freaked out or even scared… but something about the way Miguel looked at you made you feel different. You weren’t sure if it was from the kiss earlier or your feelings for him in general, but you felt… ready in a sense. When Miguel saw your eyes widen at his words, his face dropped as he suddenly became worried.

“…Was that too much?” Miguel whispered gently, his brows furrowed together.

You slowly shook your head and placed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“No… I- If anything, I… I sometimes have dreams about you, too…” You admitted with a quiet tone, looking away.

Miguel nearly went off the rails when you told him that, his pants feeling tighter around his dick. He moved you closer to him once more, moving your hair to the side.

“Mierda… Tell me about your dreams…” Miguel mumbled against you, pressing slow kisses to your cheek and down your neck.

Your thighs pressed together as a wet patch formed in your panties, your stomach flipping as you felt his lips against your skin. A shaky breath left your mouth, nearly moaning from how good it felt to have Miguel treat you this way. It was definitely wrong, but it felt so right. If anyone else had stayed with you two during the late shift and caught you like this, you’d be fired on the spot.

But nobody else was here. Just the two of you.

“S- sometimes I dream about you k- kissing me like this… and even…” Your voice faltered as you quickly grew shy again, biting down on your lip.

Miguel kissed and nipped at your neck, leaving little marks on your skin.

“Go on, Cariño…”

You swallowed before speaking again, letting a soft moan slip out.

“Even… touching me…”

Miguel moaned at that, causing your head to spin even more. You felt so hot that you swore you were going to pass out, but luckily you didn’t. He moved up to place a firm kiss on your lips, pulling away to look at you.

“Have I done anything more than just touching you in your dreams?” Miguel muttered lowly, his lips wet and raw.

You thought for a second before slowly shaking your head with a small breath.

“I always woke up before… before I could find out…” You answered Miguel.

Miguel frowned at that, looking at the marks on your neck before making direct eye contact with you. He sighed and shook his head, clicking his tongue.

“Well… do you wanna know what I’d do to you in my dreams?”

You nodded at him, genuinely curious as to what he dreamed about when you weren’t there with him. His forehead pressed against yours as his lips were centimeters away from your lips, his hands trailing from your waist down to your ass.

“In my dreams… I’d have you sit on my face and I’d make you cum over and over again until your legs give out..”

The image Miguel just gave you nearly made you collapse. You felt weak to your knees, a gentle whine escaping your lips. Miguel squeezed your thighs and kissed you once more, his hands moving up to the hem of your shirt. He parted from you to look at your face.

“Can I?” Miguel asked, wanting to make sure you were okay with this before he went any farther.

You looked at him for a few moments before making a decision, whispering out a small “Yes” to him. He took that as his green light and gently took your coat off first before moving to your shirt. He rolled the material up your body and over your head, helping you take your shirt off. Once you were topless in front of him, Miguel’s eyes scanned your chest. He muttered something quietly in Spanish before letting out a breathy sigh.

“Have I ever told you just how beautiful you are?” He coos softly.

Your face burned up as you felt vulnerable in front of him, but when Miguel spoke, you slowly started to become more comfortable. A bashful expression appeared on your face as you just shook your head.

“Not entirely…”

Miguel hummed gently as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, reaching towards your back to unclip your bra.

“Well… I think you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met… every time I see you, it’s always hard for me to look away. Shit, baby, it’s even hard for me to look away in my dreams. I wouldn’t give it up for any other view… you’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart” Miguel spoke in between kisses to your face and lips while gently kneading your exposed breasts.

You couldn’t help but moan at his words mixed with his touch, kissing him back each time he placed a kiss onto your soft lips. Miguel couldn’t get enough of the sweet sounds you made, craving even more from you. His hands moved down to unbutton your pants, taking off every last piece of clothing on your body before leaving you completely naked in front of him. Miguel’s breath hitched as he looked at your body.

It was even better than he imagined in his dreams.

Miguel placed small kisses down your neck and collarbone until he made it to your breasts, gently kissing and sucking one while his hand toyed with the other. The sensation made you moan a little louder, biting down on your lip to contain yourself. Miguel seemed to take notice of this and removed his mouth from your nipple.

“You don’t have to be quiet, muñeca… it’s just us. I wanna hear your pretty moans.. god, I’ve been dreaming about this for so long…”

As soon as he said that, his hands gripped your hips and he stared at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. Suddenly, he placed you on top of him as he laid down on the large table in the room. You could feel the tent in his pants right against your wet pussy, a low whine leaving your lips which caused Miguel to groan softly.

“Want you to sit on my face, querida… please…” Miguel begged softly, his hands still on your hips.

You let out a whimper at his request, reluctantly moving so your hips were directly above his face. You were hovering over him, not knowing what else to do. Miguel let out a quiet sigh, not wanting to wait any longer. He wanted to taste you… he had to taste you.

“You’re hovering, sweetheart. Lower your hips for me, ‘kay?” Miguel instructed, looking up at you from between your legs.

You looked down at him, slightly embarrassed from the position you were in. Regardless of how shy you became, you obeyed Miguel anyways, slowly lowering your hips a little.

“Is this g-“ Before you could even get your question out, Miguel’s mouth immediately attached to your clit.

You let out a loud gasp and moaned, Miguel’s tongue exploring your folds and licking up your juices. He let out a low growl that sent vibrations through your body, making you squirm and cry out.

“Joder, nena, sabes tan dulce… todo para mi~” Miguel moaned, his head moving up more to lick and suck on your clit again.

You whimpered as he sucked on your clit again, afraid that you would crush him if you moved your hips any lower. Miguel’s hands moved up to your ass and groped it tightly, his tongue poking your hole and sliding inside of you. The warm and wet feeling made your hands slam down on the table, trying not to drop your hips directly onto his face. Small pants left your mouth as his tongue fucked your hole and his nose brushed up against your sensitive clit, moaning as you kept your eyes shut tightly.

That’s when you felt Miguel’s hands grip your hips and his tongue slips out of your pussy, making you whine in response. You gasp as he pulls your hips down with such force, your eyes widening as you look down at him.

“Ay, Cariño, what did I tell you ‘bout the hovering? Stop hovering and sit on my face” Miguel scolded, spanking your ass as he goes back to licking and sucking your poor abused clit.

You cried out as you felt a new wave of pleasure form inside you, sobbing as he hit all of your spots with his mouth.

“Miguel~! Mig-“ You gasped, pulling his hair with one hand as the other stayed on the table for support.

But Miguel could care less if you suffocated him. Hell, he wanted you to. The sound of his name coming from your lips nearly made him cum in his pants right then and there. Every pretty noise that came out of your mouth was better than his dreams alone, not wanting you to stop. Miguel kissed and teased your clit more, savoring your taste as much as possible. His breath grew heavier and heavier as sweat trickled down his temples, burying his face in your pussy.

Miguel’s mouth left your clit with a small ‘pop’ as he re-entered his tongue inside your soaked hole, making you rut your hips against his face. The way his nose bumped your clit and his warm tongue stuffed inside you made your eyes roll back, your legs twitching already.

“God, don’t stop~ please don’t stop, Miggy~ feels s’good~” You begged pathetically, your shy demeanor now leaving your body.

Miguel moaned against you and spanked your ass hard once more, his fingers digging into your thighs. His own hips twitched against nothing as he listened to your pleads and moans, fucking you with his tongue relentlessly. With the way you begged so nicely for him to keep going, Miguel swore he could feel his precum seeping through his boxers and pants. How could he refuse you?

“Miguel-! I- I think I’m-“ You tried to warn him that you were close, your legs nearly giving out on you.

If it weren’t for Miguel’s large hands holding your hips up, you definitely would’ve collapsed on his face. But you were so desperate to cum, continuing to grind on his face as he licked a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. He caught his breath and looked up at you for a moment, his eyes dark and full of arousal.

“Go ahead, princesa… cum for me” Miguel moaned, going back to sucking your clit.

With just those words alone, the coil inside your stomach broke. You cried out loudly as you came, chanting his name over and over again. Your legs shook and you nearly collapsed onto him, Miguel catching you just in time. He licked up every drop of your release, making sure to not let it go to waste. You whimpered as he continued to lick your sensitive pussy, becoming overstimulated from his tongue. Your hands pressed down onto the table to hold yourself up, catching your breath as you carefully crawled off of his face.

As you sat down on the table next to Miguel, he sat up straight and faced you, panting heavily. Your eyes widened as you saw his chin was soaked from your juices, a dark blush forming across your cheeks. Miguel noticed your face as he finally caught his breath, a small laugh leaving his lips.

“How do you feel?” Miguel asked, licking his lips and wiping his chin off with his coat sleeve.

A soft breath left your mouth as you looked at him, a sheepish smile forming on your face, “I feel… I feel like that was the best thing I’ve ever experienced..”

Miguel chuckled and leaned over to you, placing a tender kiss to your lips. You melted against him and returned the kiss, slowly pulling away to look at him.

“I’m glad I could make you feel like that… say, uh… our shift actually ended like… 10 minutes ago” Miguel spoke as he checked his watch.

Your eyes widened as you looked around for your discarded clothes, Miguel quickly grabbing them before you could get off of the table.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got it. Just sit for a little bit, catch your breath” He mumbled, putting your clothes back on for you.

Your chest fluttered as he did so, smiling at him in a loving way. Miguel noticed this and chuckled as he helped you put your panties back on.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing… I was just wondering.. do you wanna stay the night at my place?” You offered, moving your hips a little as Miguel clothed you.

Miguel grinned widely at the offer, placing a peck to your forehead and nodding.

“Of course, I’d like that… I’ll buy dinner for us on the way there. My treat for this” Miguel hummed, putting your shirt on and placing soft kisses to your knuckles.

Your smile widened as he said that, pulling him in for a kiss. Miguel wrapped his arms around you as he kissed you back, his forehead pressed against yours as you two pulled away. He helped you off of the table and the both of you made your way out of the building, holding your hand and rubbing his thumb across your skin.

“Oh, by the way… I heard everything that happened with your co-workers. I was listening the whole time” Miguel admitted, looking over at you.

Your head whipped over to him, a surprised expression on your face. “You were-??”

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. I actually got promoted as a manager a few weeks ago, so…”

Your eyes widened as a small gasp left your lips. “Wait, so that means-“

“That means you won’t be having to deal with them for much longer. I know those assholes have been messing with you since you got here… plus, everything they said about you is wrong. You’re the best worker this place has to offer and those dickheads have been here longer than you have” Miguel responded to you, placing a kiss to your temple.

A grin formed on your lips as joy filled your chest, squeezing Miguel’s hand.

“Thank you, Miguel… that means everything to me.”

“Of course. I gotta make sure my girl is okay.”

You let out a laugh as he said that, placing a soft kiss on his cheek as you walked with him down the street.

“So, is that your way of saying I’m your girlfriend now?” You chuckled.

“Only if you want to be” Miguel answered with a smirk.

You gently smacked his shoulder with your other hand and scoffed playfully, earning a laugh from him.

“Of course I do, Miguel.”

“Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”

[koishiro]

# - 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Yuji Itadori, Nobara Kugisaki, Yuta Okkotsu, Maki Zenin, Satoru Gojo & Toge Inumaki

masterlist | jjk masterlist | upcoming anon asks

Yuji

Yuji downright catches you two making out completely by accident. He borrowed a copy of a certain manga from megumi and planned to return it so when megumi told him just to bring it to his room to return it when he found the time, he not so subtly stumbled upon his two friends. Megumi was sat on his bed, you comfortably on his lap as sucked faces. His hands were rubbing your bad under your shirt, toying with the strap of your bra. Megumi’s hands moved to your hips to grind you on top of him.

Just as you were about to take the lead - “oh shit” stood at the entrance of your boyfriend’s door was non other than Yuji, eyes wide as he took in the position of you both. It took a few seconds of stuttered and jumbled up words only for megumi to grab a pillow and throw it in Yuji direction “piss off! Why don’t you knock next time?!” Narrowly missing the attack, yuji bent down to place the manga on the floor before quickly scurrying off in the furthest direction, “I’m so telling Gojo Sensei!”

Nobara

Nobara can tell straight off the bat just simply from the way you smile. “Why’re you smiling so damn much?” She’d ask, knowing damn well why. “Don’t I always smile this much?” Normally she’d agree until she sees the way your eyes flicker over to the table behind her, already imagining the love-stricken face a certain dark haired boy held. The next clue was the your reaction to a notification sounding on your phone, nearly diving for the device and soon followed by an even wider smile. “You’re practically glowing, you fucked already huh” whipping your head towards your friend you fumble over your words as a hue of pink stains your face - a dead giveaway. “that’s a sex glow if I’ve ever seen one”

Yuta

He is the one who keeps his nose out of everyone's business but even he couldn't help but feel intrigued when he noticed that Megumi had your scent on him one morning. Tasked with training with the first years, he was paired with Megumi. Battling back and forth caused the two to be within close proximity to each other, allowing Yuta to notice the whiff of perfume on Megumi’s uniform. Strange, where had he smelt that before? He’d find it strange how strong the scent was and took it upon himself to find out.

His opportunity arose on his walk through the school’s gardens, nearly knocking heads with you before he caught himself. Yuta didn’t even have time to open his mouth before a certain scent practically punched him in the face. And it certainly didn’t help when he was sat between you both on the field, overwhelmed with the mix of smells. “Do you guys swap deodorant or something?” Megumi just scrunched his eyebrows in frustration, his attention taken away from his book, “what the hell are you talking about now?” The irritation was clear in his voice as Yuta’s eyes flickered between you two. “You two smell like each other, why? You sleeping in the same bed or somethin’?”

Maki

Ohohoho she knew. Maki’s not stupid, she can see the way you both steal glances at each other, the secret smiles in the hallways, the ‘slick’ passing of notes… so when you start making excuses on days you’re due to train together she knew exactly where you’d be. “I’m really sorry but my mum asked me to head into Kyoto later to get something for her” another one of your white lies bled through your teeth. She just raised an eyebrow to your poor excuse. “A-ha, you heading there with your boytoy?” This of course caused you to trip over your words- “wha-I don’t-boyfriend? What’s that?” Only to receive a deadpan face in return.

Not only was that embarrassing enough but you just had to run into her in the hallways of your school - no less holding hands with your ‘boytoy’. “Oi name!” You heard from the other end of the hall, and unfortunately for megumi, causing your instincts to kick in. Quickly snatching your hand from his grasp you shoved him into a nearby classroom (hopefully not currently in use) followed by a crash bang - the tell tale signs of an upcoming injury and whiny boyfriend. “What was that?” Although she knew full well what - or who - that was. “Nothing! You’re seeing things!” You spat out in a panic. “Uh-huh, well tell megumi to come out when he has time, he has training with Gojo Sensei”

Gojo & Toge

Toge, the bastard, even though his speech fails him that doesn’t stop him from becoming the school’s gossip queen. Toge would be the one to tell everyone in the school group chat which of course includes Gojo which also leads the entirety of Japan to find out. And Gojo, oho Gojo, he’d make it his life mission to involve himself as much as possible in Megumi’s life. They’d actually work together; Toge would gather information and pass it on to his Sensei only for Gojo to use it against his son. They’d have their little gossip sesh during class of course, absolutely no shame whatsoever. But the way they found out was unfortunately unforgettable.

Walking into class after hours to get his pencil case that he mistakenly forgotten, Toge only walked in to find you sat on megumi’s desk with the boy sat on his chair with his head on your lap. Megumi had a girlfriend? Toge was almost convinced that he wasn’t into girls seeing as he paid no attention or care to the opposite sex. Oh how wrong he was. Of course he took a picture, what else was he supposed to do? Walk away? “Oh and what’s this?” Behind him of course was non other than the infamous six eyes - also his teacher. “Little Megumi’s not so little anymore huh”. If anyone were to see them they’d surely come off as creeps with Gojo’s tall frame shadowing Toge’s, both peeking through the screen door of the classroom. “Send me that picture won’t you?” Fortunately for them they didn’t make themselves noticeable, unfortunately for you word spread the next day.

—

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : I feel like I’m forgetting someone…

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

[malereadermaniac]

Someone Older ~ Sukuna x Male Reader

Meeting a sexy, tatted up, older guy at a bar DISCLAIMER: I haven't watched JJK! I've written Sukuna using context clues I've gotten from reading other fics! I've written him as: cocky, mean, dominant, and not all lovey-dovey for the reader word count: 2.4k Top!Sukuna x Bottom!Reader Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

Your local club was your second home. You had gone to it many, many times with your friends, even though you weren't that much of a drinker; the atmosphere was just fun, it relaxed you after a week of college. Plus, the club was the perfect place to get the dick that you had been craving and thinking about since the last time you had been blessed with it's presence - that dick belonging to a certain pink-headed man.

You had first encountered Sukuna at the very same club you were in right now. You really fucking hated him to begin with, your first encounter being the muscular man literally shoving you out of his way to get past you; his massive hand jarring you as he grabbed your shoulder. After that, every time you caught the giant man in the corner of your eye, you would give him the smallest glare. What accelerated your 'relationship' was pure coincidence - the two of you ending up out-front of the club at the same time, alone. You innitially ignored him, breathing in the fresh air you came out for and taking a few hits on your vape, but a small scoff and deep chuckle from the pink-haired figure beside you caught your attention.

"What?" You say, looking up at the taller, clearly older man with small squint of your eye and raise of your eyebrow - you were quite ready to sass him if he made any out of pocket comments

"I just don't get why people your age insist on using those colorful, sweet sticks ha... Just smoke a cig ya pussies" The large man commented, barely even sparing you a side-glance

" 'cause they're better for you than whatever the fuck you're rolling right now" you respond, turning your body to face the dickhead which was now rolling his second cigarette

"oh yeah? ya' shure 'bout that?" Sukuna volleyed back, his speech ever so slightly muffled from holding a filter in his mouth

"Yeah.. um... studies have- oh fuck off" you mumble back, your body growing hot. For some reason, you could now understand the sex appeal of the man in front of you: the way his hair slightly fell on his forehead as he looked down to roll his cigarette, and fucking hell the way that Sukuna glanced up into your eyes as you talked, a small, smug smirk on his lips as the white filter parted them slightly. This man was sex on legs.

After that first night actually talking to the muscular dickhead, you didn't give him much thought. That was until the following weekend, when you bumped into him again, at the same club. He initially only acknowledged you briefly with a chuckle and a mumble of 'you stalking me or somethin'?', however as the night progressed and the alcohol hit you both a little more (you more so), Sukuna and yourself ended up alone once again. In a more quite area of the club, ordering yourself another drink, you recognised the veiny, tattooed arm on the bar next to you, and a sexy voice you could briefly recount ordering some sort of spirit or beer. You roll your eyes and chuckle to yourself when your eyes make contact with his, which resulted in the pink-haired man sitting down next to you; he was already drunk, pretty horny, and he couldn't deny that you piqued his interest just the smallest bit.

"So what's ya name, pretty boy" The older man asks after downing the shot he had just been handed

"As if I'd tell you" you say with a roll of your neck towards the taller man, your eyes looking up into his as Sukuna clearly checks you out with half-lidded eyes; darting between your exposed skin, back to your eyes, your curves, then back to your eyes again.

"Hah... You know you want to" The giant man chuckles out, briefly rubbing his neck and showing off his ginormous biceps and triceps, his arm covered in line-like tattoos

"(Y/n)... What about you, handsome?" you say with a small, horny smile; stretching in a nonchalant way, which showed off your body just perfectly in the club lighting

That's all you really remember about your first actual conversation with Sukuna, things got a bit blurry after that. Oh, and how at some point after that conversation, the two of you hastily made your way to the men's bathroom and started desperately making out. With you shoved against the bathroom wall, Sukuna's massive arms holding your waist and cheek as he dominated your mouth with his tongue and rubbed his knee against your crotch in a teasing manner. Briefly, the taller, stronger man breaks the kiss and sports a smug, horny smirk on his chiseled face; his hand still holding your cheek to look up at him as Sukuna lets out a small, breathy chuckle at your panting form.

"Y'know... you don't wanna get involved with me, squeak" Sukuna says in a playful tone, looking down at you and the way that your body looked so fucking sexy against his

"Oh yeah? And why's that, tough guy?" You volley back at teasing nickname, pressing a finger against his muscular chest, his shirt already pretty much unbuttoned

"Hah... 'Cause I've got tattoos older than you" The pink-haired man mumbles in your ear, alcohol and expensive cologne flooding your nose as well as heat pooling into your face and dick. Sukuna moved away from your ear and let go of your face, positioning his arm above you and not only showing off his buldging muscles, but also emphisising the very tattoos he was referencing; FOR FUCKS SAKE HE WAS SO HOT.

So... Against your better judgment, that night you decided to live a little. In the very same bathroom, after making out for another solid ten minuets, allowing the man you had only just learnt the name of to ravage your mouth and roam his hands around your body, you dragged the hunk into a stall. Luckily for you, this club was very well known for being a little more tolerant to people enjoying themselves in the bathroom, ergo you were on your knees in front of Sukuna within seconds; drunkenly roaming your hands across his thick thighs and rubbing your head against his inner thigh and crotch - your hands landing on the sexy man's zipper and belt buckle very quickly. From what you remember, and from what the smug man had recounted to you the morning after, you gave that man the sloppiest head in the world in that stall, his hands gripping your hair and forcing you to deepthroat kinda head; and you ended your night in his apartment, having fucked at least twice judging by the bite marks and hickeys on your body and Sukuna's. Having woke up in a strange apartment didn't faze you as much as it should have, what really shocked you was the amount of scratch marks you somehow left on the muscular man's enormous, muscular back! But anyway, you went on your merry way home after not being able to deal with the pink-headed man's cocky attitude about you putting out; but damn, this time, you really couldn't stop thinking about him!

Which takes us back to the present moment. Loud white-girl music was currently blasting through your eardrums, and after singing along and dancing with your friends, you found yourself trying to spot a certain someone; a tatted-up, muscular, older someone. With whatever substance was in your system at the moment, you make your way to the bar and order another drink, just waiting for Sukuna to turn up like he always did; the man could deny taking a liking to you all he wanted, but he was always the one who approached you on nights like this. Your plan goes accordingly, the muscular man had sneaked an arm around your waist and whispered some dirty talk in your ear already, and after some boring chat and minute flirting you both started to get riled up. After some dancing and making out on the dancefloor, Sukuna called you both a cab. You said 'bye' to your friends and made your way over to the pretty damn fancy car which the older man had called, and after a short journey to his apartment complex (which you two spent sloppily and desperately making out in the backseat) you both made your way inside.

The horny man immediately took control of the situation, Sukuna's muscular arms either wrapping around your body and holding you against the tall man, or roaming your hot, sexy body; it was no secret that the pink-haired man was a big fan of the way you looked, he'd never say it out-loud though, unless his walls had crumbled due to an oncoming orgasm. Dominating your mouth and body, the older man holds you in his arms, your legs around his sluttily small yet muscular waist and your arms around his thick, veiny neck. Eventually, the two of you end up on Sukuna's king-sized bed, the muscular man above you, showing off his ripped body, his sexy scars and tattoos; god damn he was so hot, just oozing confidence and dominance wordlessly. By the time you were both naked, Sukuna's thick, masculine fingers were already inside of you; spreading you out and curling into your prostate as the man hovers above you and watches you wiggle around and let out the smallest of grunts in pleasure. Sukuna fucking loves to finger you, watch and listen to you as your pleasure is fully in his control, his dick gets so hard at your actions; hell, Sukuna sometimes even gives your twitching, hard dick a couple of licks just to push you closer and closer to ecstasy. But of course, as cliche as one can be, Sukuna rarely lets you cum from his fingers and tongue alone, removing his fingers instantly if he catches you arch your back; something he's learned indicates your orgasm approaching quickly.

Without easing in at all, Sukuna likes to wrap his hands around your waist and shove his massive dick inside of you; bottoming out straight away, 'cause why would he need to be gentle after prepping you for so long? Such a cunt. The sigh which follows is always one that the two of you like to remember, just raw lust and desperation as the two of you fuck like rabbits; Sukuna thrusting his hips violently against your ass, ramming his dick against your gummy walls and prostate. The sounds which circle the older man's apartment are nothing less than erotic and vulgar - your whines and moans along with breathy gasps of Sukuna's name, skin slapping and panting, and Sukuna's rough grunts as he puts in all of his effort to fuck you ruthlessly; the man getting off on the way you look and sound from his rough pace. The muscular man fucking you can also last a solid while, which luckily for you means you get to experience plenty of different positions - yayyyy.... your poor fucking ass. From doggy, to missionary, to a full fucking nelson, Sukuna loves either to get his dick deeper inside of your tight, warm hole, or to be able to see you at different angles, struggling to keep up with the tattooed man. And by the time Sukuna is finally on the brink of shooting his thick cum inside of you, you've already came twice; your body twitching from every thrust of Sukuna's, and your eyes dripping tears down your cheeks and rolling back, which just turns the man on even further.

Just as he is normally, Sukuna is rough as fuck when he cums. His hands gripping your body tighter or his arms holdings you closer to his muscular body as the man moans your name ruggedly, biting and marking your body as his hips stutter as he keeps thrusting into you - coating your ass with his warm spunk. It's only during his orgasm or during the afterglow when Sukuna finally lets a few nice words slip past his lips, compliments of your body or face, or endearing nicknames contrasting his dirty talk from before - i.e. calling you a fucking slut and grunting in your ear how your body is begging for his huge dick. And it's as Sukuna recovers from the aftershocks of his violent orgasm that he admires you, kneeling on the bed above you and between your legs, his massive build on full display as the man pants and sweats just, simply, looking at you. His hands rub up and down your body, massaging your aching muscles as you lay on the soiled sheets, your body still twitching and your eyes still clearly hazy with lust. Your body covered in his cum and yours, Sukuna's cum leaking out of your asshole as you pant in a moanish tone, your body limp and sweaty; cockdrunk was the perfect word to describe you in this moment. The sight is enough to get Sukuna to crave a second round, but he holds back, for once thinking about you - however the small signs of empathy displayed by Sukuna couldn't hold back his sharp tongue no matter what.

"Looks like you got a thing for older guys or somethin', darl'"

You giggle, unable to respond from the pleasure still assaulting your body, but the cocky and smug comment from the man who just rearranged your guts was somewhat sweet in the moment. And that's why you keep coming back. Sure, the sex is killer and you don't stop thinking about Sukuna's dick. But you also enjoy the moments after, from the moment the man stops shooting his load, to the moment you have to leave the morning after - you feel comfortable, somehow. And on the flip-side, Sukuna can't deny that he's for some reason taken a liking to you. He is the one that keeps coming over to you in the club and the one that calls the cab, so he must like you a little, right? The man can't say that he doesn't enjoy waking up next to you in the morning, your body perfectly against his, your sharp wit when you two banter, and the sex is so fucking good! Guess you two will be stuck in a game of cat n mouse for a while, cause neither of you is leaving any time soon; it's up to one of you to take the next step for the other and at the very least put a label on the two of you, whether that be 'weirdly close friends with benefits' or 'lovers'

[wonysugar]

don’t modify | jang wonyoung

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. everyone adores you (at least i do) — matt maltese

synopsis : everyone knew jang wonyoung had standards, but you were afraid you didn’t meet them like she initially expected you to.

pairing : stuco!wonyoung x gf!femreader

genre : smut, it’s kinda sweet i think

tags : wlw, hurt/comfort(?), fem!reader starts doubting herself, self-esteem issues, yn overthinks everythingg, YN YOU’RE GIRLFRIEND ENOUGH, <//3, couplez are very present haiii, i care them so much, jiwon is stewpid (affectionate), and rei lives for it, LESBIANS, worried gf wony, she loves yn guys, GUYS, now onto the sex, semi-public sex, so risky sex, ooouh scandalous, fingerfucking, making out, LOTS of it, kinda body worship, clit play

warnings : this fic contains self-esteem issues and lack of confidence, be warned :]

word count : 4,8k

a/n : heyyy… DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THATTT I’VE BEEN BUSY💔💔i’m trying to work on as many fics as i possibly can when i have free time, this is one of them<//3 i hope you like it, i personally don’t know to feel about it butfkdmfm yeah

i also kinda didn’t proofread this; it’s almost 2 am as i’m typing this out and i’m EXHAUSTED,,, if you see mistakes of any kind just please ignore,, for my sake

man, student council really was no joke.

sitting at the same table as your girlfriend, wonyoung, and her peers, you could feel the undeniable tension in the air. 

this was originally gonna be a double date, but it very quickly turned into a last-minute student council meeting, for some unknown reason. you weren’t part of said council, therefore had no clue what the hell they were on about this entire time. all this talk about budget, organized events, it all made you dizzy. the only thing that was keeping you somewhat calm was wonyoung’s warm presence and the slow jazz music that was quietly playing from the vintage jukebox, the one sitting in a corner of the place. 

you accompanied your girlfriend thinking this was going to be a cute opportunity to meet the two other girls! yknow, knowing that they seemed to be very close friends of your girlfriend’s, you figured it would’ve been nice to get to know them but it now just mostly feels like you infiltrated a top secret reunion that no one else could know about. 

and the funny thing? you were already somewhat nervous to meet other student council members in the first place, and this wasn’t helping. now, it’s kind of embarrassing to admit, but the first time that you met your significant other… yeah, you were mostly intimidated by her beauty and maturity, but also by her status in the school. it’s almost like you felt bad about crushing on somebody as influential on campus, let alone eventually dating her. so, i guess you could say meeting anybody equally as important as her fellow stuco members was something that made you rather anxious; what if they thought of you as clumsy? dumb? or even worse, not good enough for their president, their best friend?

quickly interrupting your train of incredibly messy thought, the blonde girl, whose name you don’t quite remember, spoke up. 

“nevermind any of that! we came here, on a week-end, with the intention to relax, to have fun and to finally take a breather from everything stressful that’s been going on in our lives, and what did we end up doing? talking about the school’s budget, like we always do. seriously guys?” she watched how the two other girls averted their eyes, clearly guilty. 

she especially noticed how you seemed to be uncomfortably shifting in your seat whilst they were talking, so, giving you a subtle reassuring look, she added on.

“let’s leave it for when we’re at school and not in front of y/n, how’s that sound?”

the two other girls looked at each other, then you, and eventually nodded. just like that, the tension in the air disappeared, and you already felt calmer.

but not calm enough to be confident about meeting your girlfriend’s friends and actually enjoy this small get-together.

however, you couldn’t sit there and pretend that the silence that settled in between all of you wasn’t a comfortable one, especially with the way wonyoung’s hand rested on yours, it was a nice contrast to what was actively going on in your mind.

until it was brutally killed by the dramatic sigh that came from the familiar tall and bright haired girl’s mouth.

“well, i’m pretty damn hungry, aren’t you guys hungry? cause i sure am pretty fucking hungry!“

you internally laughed, acknowledging that she was naturally quite funny. you apparently weren’t the only one to think so, considering how that also earned a small giggle from the almost just as tall girl who you assumed was her girlfriend, since she was practically always looking at her with heart-shaped eyes, regardless of the situation; you could tell when a girl was whipped for another, and it was as clear as day. 

she was more than whipped for the blondie.

“you know jiwon, if you wanted to get up and go order, you could’ve just said that.” she said, smiling at the girl in question and looking stupidly in love. 

“well yeahh.. but it’s essential for everyone to know how famished i am at all times, darling; my hunger is everyone’s problem, i thought we knew this!” was what jiwon said back, her bright smile making the dimple on one of her red cheeks, her left one, even more prominent than usual, since it’s quite literally always visible. that earned a playful eye roll from the other girl as she continued giggling. 

the pet name helped confirm your theory that those two were a thing.

“you guys want anything?” she softly asked, quickly making sure.

“nope! we’ll get something later, thank you rei.” was what wonyoung responded before warmly looking at you, slightly tilting her head in a way that silently asked you if you felt like ordering. you politely declined by shaking your head, hand waving around as you’re doing so, for extra insistence.

after that, they stood up together and proceeded to walk towards the counter to order. their hands were grazing each other’s for a little moment as they talked, almost hesitant. that is, before jiwon gently grabbed the other girl’ hand and intertwined their fingers together, both now having acquired their place in line. smiling to yourself, you also particularly noticed how jiwon, her face now completely red, seemed to trip on literal air as she walked with the reason for that was giggling endlessly. 

man, what a match they were, you thought.

rei, if you remembered her name correctly, was soft spoken and careful with every little thing she said and did, her gentle tone offered some sort of contrast to jiwon’s, who on her part, was louder, more outgoing and spontaneous. being polar opposites, they complemented each other amazingly; from their behavior all the way down to their body language, it was impossible to miss how different yet similar they were.

it seemed as if wonyoung noticed you staring at them from a distance, so she assumed it would’ve been a good idea to give you a little bit of funny context. “can you believe they’re not dating yet?” she asked, looking at them with you.

“wait.. what? they aren’t?” you exclaimed, surprised at the almost unbelievable information your girlfriend just dropped on you. well there goes your theory, “are.. are you sure?”

amused, she shook her head, eyebrows raised, “mmhm.” she said, putting emphasis on the first m. “i swear at times it feels like i hear them gushing about the other way more than i see my own mom.”

you giggled, your eyes darted back and forth between her and the other girls, in disbelief. actually.. the more you looked at them, the more whatever wonyoung said seemed to be true; despite being this close and intimate with each other, there were signs of uncertainty, as if this was new for the both of them. like when jiwon seemed to avoid rei’s gaze whenever she spoke, or maybe even when rei seemed to blush at quite literally anything silly that came out of jiwon’s mouth, which was very often, by the way.

“crazy, i know.” she laughed, staring at the two with you. “i mean, they practically are by now, they’re just not aware of it themselves yet.”

okay yeah, you thought, nodding at your girlfriend, it made sense. 

they did look like a newlywed couple if they didn't know they were married, and that just made it all the more endearing to see, honestly. you were glad wonyoung was friends with such kind-hearted and genuine girls. 

that somehow contributed in bringing back that nerve-racking doubt you had ever since you stepped foot in here, however, and your amusement was once again quickly overshadowed by worry. see, those two seemed so happy with each other, despite not even dating, that it got you thinking about your and wonyoung’s relationship. 

rei and jiwon sort of reminded you of what you and your girlfriend were, way back before you started dating, back when she knew absolutely nothing about you and was instead curious regarding your person, intrigued.

you thought that maybe you didn’t end up exceeding her expectations like she initially believed you would, that you maybe weren’t as interesting of a girlfriend than she would’ve hoped, that she could do so much better than you. 

hell, maybe even the two friends you were staring at prior thought so.

you noticed how wonyoung stared at you with a focused expression, the one she always had on whilst she tried to comprehend something complex, whatever it was. many things elicited that reaction, sometimes it’d be an important yet contradictory school document, other times it’d be an attempt to read something that was written in one of the languages she’s not so familiar with, as rare as that was. 

right now though, she was probably trying to read you, a language she thought she was perfectly fluent in, yet was always met with a hard time understanding completely.

then, upon realizing that you were staring back at her, her eyes widened ever-so slightly and she gave you a warm smile. doing your best in not letting your insecurities spill through the cracks of your face, you smiled in return, as to not potentially worry her.

“we’re backk!” announced jiwon in a sing-song tone, quickly catching both you and wonyoung off-guard as she obnoxiously placed her tray down on the table, almost dropping it. rei’s, on the other hand, was set gently on the wooden surface whilst she carefully sat down on the seat, smiling to herself upon staring at the delicious looking food, completely disregarding the conversation happening right beside her. 

you nodded to yourself, that was truly respectable.

“already?..” asked the tall and brown haired girl in response, wearing a mischievous smirk girl at the blondie before continuing, “and here i thought that we were finally gonna have a break from you.” jokingly groaning and rolling her eyes.

“never gonna happen, unfortunately for you.” jiwon giggled at the banter, grabbing a handful of fries from the tray in front of her before forcefully shoving it into the other girl’s mouth, cutting the latter successfully.

that earned a giggle from everyone at the table, but rei’s tiny and polite laugh was especially noticeable among the bunch. 

turns out she always listens when it’s about jiwon, huh.

—

“what about you, y/n?” asked jiwon, distracting you from the conversation you were about to engage in with the delicious burger that nestled in between your eager hands. you looked at her, allowing her to carry on, “are you volunteering anywhere?”

all of a sudden, all three different pairs of eyes were on you, and you only. 

you cleared your throat, setting the hamburger down, now having caught a glimpse of what the conversation was actually about. volunteering, huh? is that a thing that student council casually members do when they’re bored..?

you didn’t want to seem like an asshole, but it’s not like you could afford to lie, either, especially not when wonyoung was staring at you so intently, like she was excited to merely hear you talk.

you felt guilty for even placing a word.

“oh uh,” you focused your eyes on the table, unsure of your response and the reaction you would get. “i would, but i barely have the time, unfortunately.. you know, with my job and all..”

“you know,” rei chimed in, shaking her medium-sized soda drink around before taking a sip, “you can say that you don’t care enough, we won’t judge.” she said in a joking manner, earning laughter from everyone at the table.

that was a joke, it’s obvious that everybody would be laughing. 

“ahah, yeah..” 

except you, of course, the best you could do at that moment was crack a slight smile since you were basically stuck inside of your own head by now, contemplating whether they were actually making fun of you in your face or if you were just overthinking everything again, just like you always do.

man, with each thought you had, you felt uneasy. the more they talked, the more overwhelmed you felt, especially if the conversation revolved around you;  self-consciousness wouldn’t even begin to describe it, despite your desperate attempts to sit and actually enjoy the moment, as well as the food in front of you, for that matter.

but alas, that annoying voice in your head had won again. the same voice that always goes on and on about how every person around you thinks you aren’t enough, and that you’re uninteresting and unlikeable, sometimes just plain annoying. 

that got the best of you today.

you reluctantly stood up, which caught the two girls’ attention, but especially wonyoung’s, all of their eyes perking up at you. “where you going?” asked jiwon.

“just the bathroom.” you replied almost immediately, “sorry, you guys can keep talking, i won’t be long.”

you make a beeline for the restroom after rambling out those words, not looking back for even a second. you push the door open once you get there, quickly closing it behind you before turning the sink on and looking at yourself in the mirror. 

get it together, y/n, you told yourself, don’t embarrass her any more than you already have.

you proceeded to splash some cold water onto your face, taking advantage of the fact that you conveniently decided not to wear any makeup today. to call it refreshing would be an understatement, as it helped you gain back composure.

that’s when you heard, and noticed from your peripheral vision, the restroom door cracking open. you turned off the running sink in hurry and turned to the door, wiping the water off of your face with your palm and forearm.

“..you okay?” 

“huh? yeah..” 

she looked at you some more. it was clear that she did not believe you for one second, she therefore locked the door behind you, as to not have anybody interrupt. she was going to ask again, however, she refrained from doing so and let you speak of your own accord.

you quickly understood that she was going to ask again, however, refrained from doing so and let you speak of your own accord. you took a deep breath, then you allowed your vulnerability to manifest itself through your words, just this once.

“..i just feel like.. i don’t know—“ you tried finding the right words to say, but nothing could potentially make the situation any worse than you’ve made it, “are you happy with me, wonyoung?” 

long pause. a very long pause.

she furrowed her eyebrows upwards, “…what?” her voice was now just above a whisper as she processed your words, slightly shaking. despite how subtle it was, you heard the fear in it. “o-of course i am, why wouldn’t i be?”

“i just feel… i feel like you deserve better than me.” you turned away from her, your eyes settling on the mirror before you, once again. “i’m sorry, i don’t wanna be annoying—“

“do i make you feel that way?” she asked almost immediately, cutting you off. her expression giving away her heavy dejection despite her best attempt to mask it. “do i make you feel like you’re not enough?”

hurting you is the last thing she would ever want to do, she’s certain she’d rather die a horrible death on the spot than cause you pain.

“no, of course not!” you responded just as fast, your gaze meeting hers as you turn to face her once again, “you’re great towards me, amazing, even. it’s… it’s just that, i’m scared that you’re doing it out of pure guilt.. is all—”

she, in response, was no longer taken aback. finally having understood what was on your mind throughout this whole outing, her worry evaporated from her face, leaving room for a sympathetic expression, “guilt?” she walked your way and stood beside you, her big hands now cupping your cheeks and holding them in a warm, loving embrace. “if i really was dating you out of guilt, would i really ask you to go out with me to meet my friends?”

“i don’t want you doubting my love for you ever again, okay?” she added, her eyebrows furrowed, now looking practically offended. “i mean, come on, let’s not forget that i have standards.”

interpreting your silence and the way you looked up at her as uncertainty, she continued, smiling at you, “and you exceed every single one; you’re amazing, y/n. you’re gorgeous, so incredibly smart, talented, understanding, so kind and genuine, too. the list could go on, honestly, but most important of all, i love you, i love you so much, and there is truly nothing in this world that’ll be able to change that.. i never, ever, wanna hear you say any of that again. also, never scare me like that? ever?”

“but—“

“nuh uh!” she hovered her index finger over your mouth, silencing you before you could protest, “no buts! you’re perfect and i’m very incredibly lucky to be with you, that’s final.” she insisted, before mumbling to herself, “also, i should probably tell rei to cut it down on the sarcastic jokes, shouldn’t i.. she gets comfortable way too easily—“

“no wony, i know she meant no harm. plus, i would’ve found it funny if i wasn’t so in my own head..” 

she sighed, then nodded. and as corny as it was, that whole conversation was enough to fully reassure you again. you cracked a shy and content smile, to which she happily reciprocated whilst gently stroking your hair with her hand, leaving a loving kiss on your forehead. “i love you, wonyoung, i’m sorry.” you muttered, barely audible. 

she groaned, having heard you, and rolled her eyes jokingly, “will you stop apologizing so much?” before smiling with nothing but love and admiration in her eyes, “i love you too dumbass, so much, and i’m afraid i’ll never stop.” she added, before leaving a small peck on your lips.

you returned the kiss, having wonyoung leaning into you and gently pushing you onto the sink. your hands went on both sides of her face and cupped her cheeks, your girlfriend melting into your touch with a smile immediately before pulling away and looking into your eyes.

now being in the right headspace and paying proper attention to her appearance, you just now noticed how good wonyoung really looked that day; her long brown hair perfectly straightened at the top and being more on the wavy side on the ends, the whole hairstyle being all, quite literally, tied together by a lavender-coloured ribbon. you’ve also noticed that she decided to wear her favorite  navy blue and white striped knit sweater and tucked it under the waistband of her blue denim jeans, incredibly effective in drawing attention to her waist whilst also keeping a cozy look.

she looked beautiful, there was absolutely no doubt about that, but your mind kept wandering further. you thought about how much more beautiful she’d look wearing nothing, before being hit with the sad truth that the two of you are in a public bathroom, and that the latter was very unlikely to happen.

still though, you smiled to yourself as your eyes trained down on her body, getting lost in dirty thought before looking up at her again. once your gaze met wonyoung’s, you watched her lips form into a stupid smile before she spoke again, making you realize how dearly you missed listening to her honey-like voice despite having heard it roughly 30 seconds prior.

“and what are you looking at exactly?” she tilted her head slightly, flirtatiously sliding her hand up and down your sides as she awaited your answer.

it’s crazy how your girlfriend of several months could still manage to turn your stomach to literal mush, every single thing about her made you short-circuit; her mannerisms, the way she talked to you, the way she always put her hands on the right spot, her smile… she was clearly out to get you.

and it didn’t look like that was going to change anytime soon.

“..nothing,” you replied, taking a short pause as you took in all of her features, before adding on, “you look good, babe.”

that pet name made sense again, you felt like yourself again.

“yeah?” she spoke back, now placing her two hands atop each side of the sink that you were already leaning on. her face now mere inches away from yours, your nostrils suddenly invaded by the hypnotizing smell of the sugary, expensive perfume she had on, the one that drove you nuts, “thanks for noticing.”

it took one last dorky smile from her before you officially lost your shit and pulled her back in for a kiss, this one hungrier than the previous, and it didn’t take much for wonyoung to acknowledge the desire you felt for her, either. she’d also be lying if she said she didn’t want you just as much. 

you could taste the cherry lip gloss she had put on previously as your lips danced in sync with hers, 

“wait,” you said in between kisses, “what about the others?”

“oh don’t worry,” she chuckled, wearing a knowing expression and slightly shaking her head in amusement at the thought, “they’re definitely keeping each other distracted. i would even go as far as to say that they completely forgot about us even coming along in the first place.”

as insane as it may sound, you could totally picture jiwon completely discarding her food and endlessly rambling about quite literally the dumbest thing ever whilst rei admired her silently, listening to every word the other girl spoke, entranced as she took tiny sips of her drink, perhaps as an attempt to make the moment last forever.

the two of you giggled to yourselves, seemingly having thought of the exact same thing before the urge to have wonyoung ruin you in this very bathroom hit you once more, only harder this time. 

it didn’t take long for your girlfriend to lean back into you, now making her painfully slow way down to your jaw, then to your neck, planting messy and lazy pecks across the skin. you felt her smiling against you with relish, taking in each and every soft noise that escaped from your mouth. her hands were growing more and more curious by the second, which caused them to explore and slide further down from the spot they initially settled on; your lower stomach and waist. they eventually worked their way up your black pleated skirt, teasing your entrance through the soft fabric of your already damp underwear.

that went on for a long while, so long so that you felt the pool in between your legs growing with each rub of the finger she gave you.

“god, look at you,” she then whispered against your neck, marking it up right to her liking, “perfect, always so perfect for me.” and watching you not-so-subtly grinding your hips against her hand at the words, longing for any sort of friction you could get. 

“wonyoung–” you whined out quietly, using all of your willpower to not make too much noise so as to not let the other people in the restaurant hear you through the closed door. she heard you though, she heard you loud and clear and that was all that mattered to her. she pretended that she didn’t, however, and pulled away from your neck to properly look at you to raise a knowing eyebrow at you. the back and forth motion she was doing on your clothed pussy now much, much slower. “what was that baby?”

“please.” you breathed out shakily, “i need you.. bad.”

“do you now?” she responded, cocky.

you nodded almost immediately.

she let out a tsk sound in response, “couldn’t even wait ‘till we get home, huh?” that confirmation was all it took for her to finally push your panties to the side just enough to be able to spread your cunt and squeeze her fingers into it, which was very wet enough to welcome her digits, she slowly inserted them further in. 

“so impatient, just for me, right?” she whispered, watching you as you nodded once again, this time more keen. she then paused, quietly taking in all of your reactions to her different  words and teasing, more than satisfied, she scoffed, “fuck, i love you—“

she pressed her lips against yours again, eager; she truly couldn’t get enough of you, everything about you was all she could ever want. you couldn’t help but let a guttural groan escape from your lips in response to her two fingers fully sliding inside of you in one swift motion, filling your insides up perfectly. you were undeniably loud, but the kiss definitely contributed to quieting you down, muffling the noise of your pleasure, the squelching sounds of your pussy being the only audible thing occupying the air.

it didn’t take long before she started pumping her fingers in and out of you, finding a slow and steady pace before fully ravaging your core. she quickly pulled away to catch a glimpse of the scene happening on the lower side of things; her hand reaching into your skirt and working its magic. the sight of that worked the both of you up even more, and she would’ve completely gotten rid of every piece of the clothing that’s in her way to you right then and there,

but then again, this was a public bathroom.

and you two were very quickly reminded of that once you heard knocking at the locked door, as well as tussling of the doorknob. wonyoung and you froze, albeit a very polite pair of knocking and turning, it scared the shit out of you.

“y/n? wonyoung? are you guys okay in there?” you heard rei’s easily discernible voice on the other side of the door. your eyes darted between it and wonyoung, mere inches away from you (who also seemed visibly panicked, as well as amused.)

well wonyoung was incredibly wrong in assuming they forgot about you two.

in a silent, mutual agreement sealed by a nod, you came up with a pitiful excuse, fighting back every potential shake of your voice that could manifest itself, “y-yeah, uh, i’m just fixing up my makeup and—“

suddenly, you felt your girlfriend’s thumb pressing on your sensitive and swollen bundle of nerves without warning, and began to rub it in a slow and painful circular motion, wearing a slight smirk while doing so. your stomach immediately dropped at the feeling, and your first instinct was to bite your lip as you tried your hardest not to moan out wonyoung’s name out loud,

obviously, you wanted to, but couldn’t; especially not when rei’s on the other side, worried about you two.

the tall brunette threw you a teasing glance, her expression practically reading ‘go on, keep going.’ so, as a matter of principle, you did. you pulled on her knit sweater in overwhelm, oh so desperate to just cum already and not risk getting caught and definitely kicked out, just imagining that walk of shame gave you goosebumps, “w-wonyoung’s with m-me.”

“okay! oh and also, jiwon wanted me to ask if you were gonna finish your food.” 

as bad as it was, your thoughts at that moment resembled ‘oh my god why isn’t she leaving yet’, especially when your love thought it was an amazing idea to casually fingerfuck you again, her fingers finding their familiar pace and curling against your g-spot perfectly. you kept tugging on her top, mouth slightly agape in surprise and overwhelming pleasure as you tried to come up with an answer.

“yes!” you cleared your throat after having that first word coming out a bit too excited for your liking, then continued, “yes, t-tell her she can have all of the remaining fries s-she wants.” you looked at wonyoung with hooded eyes right after slurring out those words, shaking your head in desperation. not at all in the right state of mind to even listen to her friend’s response who then thankfully left, you mouthed the words ‘i wanna cum so bad.’ to her.

she was gonna keep teasing you, but she decided that you’ve endured more than enough for that day. with her other hand, she settled her palm onto your mouth; she knew how loud you got when hitting climax. a few more pumps of her fingers into your puffy cunt was all it took for you to grip onto her sweater as you came all over her hand, eyes rolled back whilst you moaned and pleaded into her hand, bucking your hips into her and riding your high on her palm, her thumb still pressing your clit.

pulling her slander fingers out of you, she quickly made you taste how good you were and made sure you thoroughly and carefully licked every inch of it clean as you hazily muttered ‘i love you’s in between lick and sucks.

one thing was for sure, sitting back down at the table wearing underwear full of your slick was definitely an element of great embarrassment,

but at least you were now fully reassured that dating you was not at all one for wonyoung.