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wlwmarvelenthusiast · 3 years

Note

Can u write an au where carol’s cat (goose) keeps sneaking into fem!reader’s apartment and so carol and reader communicate with each other thru notes they put on goose’s collar and they eventually fall in love (((:::::::

Goose's Best Friend

Summary: After a stranger's cat injured in your apartment one night, you decide to attach a short note to its collar to give your apologies. They lead to something you could have never expected.

Pairing: Army Pilot!Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2,792

It was the middle of the night, 2:57a.m., to be exact, when a loud crash shook you from the clutches of sleep. You sat up with a groan, rubbing your eyes to clear your vision enough to look at the clock on your nightstand. You swung your legs off the bed, eyes catching the shattered lamp on the ground. Fighting off the temptation to leave it on the ground for tomorrow, for fear that you might forget about it and slam your bare feet into the shards scattered around the floor, you slid your legs into some sweats and stood up.

You weren’t expecting, when you turned on the light, for something to move. When something darted around the corner you actually let out a high-pitched yelp, flying backwards and hitting your elbow hard off the corner of the nightstand. You felt tingling rush into the tips of your fingers as you tried desperately to comprehend what had just happened. Your breathing had already increased, and your heart was racing inside your chest. You took a hesitant step forward.

Despite being alone in the apartment, you flushed beet red in embarrassment when you found the creature you’d been so terrified of. The orange tabby cat stared up at you with wide eyes, letting out a quiet mew. Immediately your heart softened, its beat slowing down to a normal pace. When the cat made to step toward you, though, you immediately noticed the limp. Your eyebrows furrowed and you knelt down, letting it come to you. You reached out for its front leg, and it let you take it into your hand.

“Oh, sweet baby,” you muttered softly, wiping a bit of blood out of its fur with your thumb. “Come on. I think I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

It surely didn’t understand what you said, but it followed you when you stood up. It limped into the bathroom behind you, settling once it reached the tile floor. You reached into the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the red case, propping it up on the countertop and opening it up. Quickly, you located the roll of bandages and the scissors that came with it. You pulled it out and got some wet paper towels. Once more you knelt down on the ground next to the tabby.

A black collar around its neck caught your attention. You reached out for the silver tag that hung from it and spoke aloud. “Goose. Well, Goose, there’s no phone number here for your owner. Guess I’ll have to fix you up and trust you can find your own way home, huh?”

He meowed in response.

You continued to wrap up his leg. When you finally finished, you tucked the first aid kit away again. You clicked your tongue a couple times in an attempt to get him to follow you again. The both of you headed toward the kitchen, where you rummaged through the fridge for the leftover chicken from dinner the night before last. You pulled some out and set it in a small dish on the floor, a sort of apology for your lamp having done such damage to the poor animal’s leg. He helped himself quickly. Meanwhile, you dug through one of your drawers.

You popped the cap off a pen and cut a small strip of paper, struggling to keep your writing small enough to fit.

There was no number on the collar, so I opted for this. Goose found his way into my apartment and had an unfortunate mishap. I patched him up and gave him a treat. I hope that’s okay. He should be alright.

Hope he feels better soon.

You rolled the note around the tabby’s collar and taped it in place. He’d finished his treat by now, so you led him back to the apartment door. When you opened it, he cast one glance back at you, eyes shining as if in gratitude, then scurried down the hall. Just as he turned out of sight, though, someone else moved into your peripheral vision. You could have scoffed when you saw who had wandered into the hallway. She spoke before you could close the door.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Fuck off, Danvers.”

“Captain Danvers,” she hummed, a wide smirk on her face as she twirled her keys around her finger.

“In your dreams,” you scoffed. “And next time you’re using your stripes to get random women in bed, be a little quieter, would you? Some of us around here have self-respect.”

You closed the door before she could respond to that.

You and Carol Danvers had hated each other for as long as you’d lived there. The two of you were like hot and cold, or night and day. She liked loud music and late nights whereas you liked a nice book and an early night. You were quiet and soft-spoken, and Carol was a bully. In fact, she was your bully. You’d never endured such teasing and taunting from anyone else before. It wasn’t her harsh words that got to you, though. In fact, you weren’t entirely sure what it was that got to you. Maybe it was her arrogance, or maybe it was her ignorance for anyone around her. It didn’t matter.

Carol Danvers brought out a side of yourself that you didn’t know existed. You’d only have to hear a single word fall from her lips or see a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye, and instantly any semblance of a good mood would dissipate and fade into annoyance. The hatred you held for her made your blood boil in your veins at the mere sight of her stupid, cocky smirk. You sometimes wished you could just reach out and slap that stupid smirk off her stupid face.

You pushed the blonde from your mind, heading back to bed. Hopefully, the coming day would be one that didn’t involve the blonde captain.

It was three days later that a quiet meow caught your attention. It tore your gaze from the TV, and you glanced toward the source of the sound. The face that was watching you immediately brought a smile to your face. You pat the couch beside you and the tabby jumped up, settling onto the blanket. You ran your hand across his head, watching his eyes close in content. You were about to turn your gaze back to the TV when you noticed the paper around his collar. It wasn’t the same one you put there. You reached out for it and removed it, careful not to rip it, and unrolled it. You flicked on the lamp.

Sorry about him. He wanders around the building. This isn’t the first time he’s gotten into someone’s room. If you fed him, he’ll probably come back to you (which I don’t mind, so long as you don’t mind that he’ll keep coming back). That’s how I know you’ll get this. So, thank you for patching him up. The vet would’ve cost more. You were right. He was just fine.

Rolled up with it was a twenty-dollar bill. You chuckled, immediately standing up off the couch. You pulled a small treat out of the fridge as you passed it, Goose trotting into the kitchen at the sight. You handed it to him and he took it happily, chowing down as you stood up straight again and continuing on your journey toward the notepad on the counter. Once again you ripped a small piece of paper out of it, ripping the cap of the pen off with your teeth and holding it there as you brought the pen down to meet the paper.

It seems so. You were right. He came back. He’s a sweet boy. I truly enjoy his visits. I don’t get many of them, so he’s welcome here whenever he pleases. And I don’t need this. Keep it.

You knelt down on the ground to Goose once again. He sat still for you as you wrapped the bill around his collar, wrapped the note around it, and then taped them both in place. Once more, you led him back to the apartment door, opened it up for him, and let him into the hallway. He rubbed his head against your calf once more before dashing out of sight. You shut the door behind him.

You huffed as you stormed into the lobby of the apartment building. Work had not treated you well that day. All you wanted was to head upstairs, put on your coziest pyjamas, order takeout, cuddle into the couch, and watch a movie or two. It was all you needed to wash away the horrible day and ease the stress that was weighing so heavily on your chest. You only wanted to pick up your mail before you did, but apparently, the universe had other ideas.

“Looking for some mail from your mommy?”

Danvers was the last person you wanted to deal with today. You didn't even bother to grumble a response to your neighbour, who was still in uniform as she stepped up beside you and unlocked her own mailbox. You were going to step away without a single word, but once more, you didn’t get your wish. Carol snickered at something, making you slam your box shut with far more force than necessary.

“What, pray tell, is so fucking funny?” You snapped.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. Nice keychain.”

The keychain was a souvenir one you’d gotten from your trip to Disney with your family a few years ago. It was a picture of you and your brothers all wearing Mickey Mouse ears and sticking your tongues out at the camera. If anyone else had said the words, you would have blushed and thanked them. When Carol said the words, you shoved the keys in your pocket and shot a glare so harsh that it would have killed if it could have.

“You’re a dick, Danvers.”

“Captain Danvers,” she corrected once more.

“Look, this whole army pilot thing might work on those girls you pick up from god knows where, but I’ve met you,” you sneered. “You use this uniform for detestable things, Danvers. It’s disgusting.”

You stormed away.

When you unlocked your door and stepped into your apartment, however, you found that you wouldn’t need pyjamas or takeout or movies to make you feel better. Your new best friend was sitting on your couch as if he had been waiting for you to arrive home. You dropped your bag at the door and moved to sit with him immediately. After stroking his head absentmindedly for a bit, you noticed the new note.

Take it. Please? Come on, you’re going to make Goose sad if you don’t. You’re going to make me sad if you don’t.

Attached with the note, again, was that same twenty-dollar bill. You rolled your eyes as you moved into the kitchen once more, handing Goose a few of the cat treats you’d bought for him. He accepted them happily as, for the third time, you prepared to write a note for Goose’s mystery owner. You didn’t even bother to sit down, hunching over the counter in a way that your back probably wouldn’t have thanked you for. You scribbled on the paper.

I’m sure Goose won’t mind at all. As for you? Well, I don’t really know you, do I? Just keep the damn money, will you? You know, Goose is going to gain a few pounds if you keep sending him back here.

Sincerely, Goose’s new best friend

After a few pats to the head, you sent Goose off with that. He was back later that day.

Goose’s best friend,

Goose does mind. He wants you to keep it. Please? Besides, if we keep attaching it with scotch tape to a wandering cat, it’s going to get lost. You wouldn’t want that, now, would you? I sure wouldn’t. As for the treats, I’ll make sure to walk him a bit more. Wouldn’t want to lose my new favourite pen pal over a couple extra pounds on the cat.

- Goose’s mom

This time, there were two twenties attached. You chuckled at that. Goose was gobbling down his treat as you wrote.

Goose’s mom,

I think that’d be quite a sight to see, you walking Goose down the street. Guess if I ever see Goose leashed and with some random woman on the street, I’ll know what you look like.

- Goose’s best friend

P.S. Just donate the money. Seriously.

As if it were habit by now, you reattached the bills, added your note, and sent the tabby out the door once again. You headed back to what you’d been doing.

It wasn’t long before the next reply.

Goose’s best friend,

Here, I’ll help you build the image. I’m 23, blonde, and about 5’6”. I’m in the army, so I’d probably still be in uniform after work. Oh, and Goose’s leash is blue, and he has a grey harness for walking.

- Goose’s mom

P.S. I split the $40 between the humane society and the local shelter

You once more had to laugh at the stranger. Of course, you immediately moved to respond. As much as you didn’t want to kick Goose out, you wanted her to get your answer as soon as possible. You grabbed your notepad.

Goose’s mom,

You sound cute.

- Goose’s mom’s best friend

It was a short note this time. You were having fun, though, and you wanted to tease your new friend a little. You attached the note to Goose and let him run off.

Once more, Goose returned with a new reply.

Best friend,

You didn’t give me anything in response. I’m offended.

- Goose’s mom’s best friend’s best friend

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the way she’d signed her newest note. A pang of confidence hit your chest. You scribbled on the note.

Goose’s cute mom,

Let’s go for coffee then. 2B. I’m free when you are.

- Girl with a crush

You regretted sending that last note. You’d never gone more than 12 hours without communicating with the mystery note sender. You’d grown quite fond of the little pieces of communication you’d exchanged with her. It was actually the highlight of your day, on most days. Since sending that last one, though, you’d yet to hear back from her. It’d been four days now. You were quite upset about it, and decided the best way to fix that was some loud music. Maybe it’d piss Danvers off as much as she pissed you off.

When there was a loud knock on the door, you immediately assumed that you’d sure pissed someone off. Of course, they’d complain about you and not her. Everyone loved Carol fucking Danvers. You wished you could whirl the door open and shout at whoever was on the other side, but knew yourself better than that. You’d probably open it up and apologize, then turn the volume down and wallow in your misery to the sound of softer music.

That is, if it were anyone but Danvers.

“What? Just now realizing how damn annoying it is to hear loud music blaring from the apartment directly below yours?” You rolled your eyes. “Fuck off, Danvers.”

You went to slam the door, but she stuck her hand in. It must’ve been a little harsher than you meant to, because she shook her fingers out when she retracted them. You didn’t apologize, because you didn’t even feel bad. She deserved it after giving you two years of hell having to live in the apartment below her. You’d not have been surprised if one day she invited an elephant into her room just so she could make as much noise in your apartment as possible.

As you were about to make another snarky remark, though, you noticed something. That cocky glint that was usually shining in her brown eyes was missing. She wasn’t even meeting your eyes. Her gaze was cast to the door beside your head, locked to the bronze numbers that were screwed into it. You raised a single eyebrow, waving your hand in front of her face to get her attention. She blinked as if coming out of a trace, looking back to you.

“What do you want, Danvers?” You snapped when she wouldn’t speak.

She didn’t answer. She only held out a small piece of paper. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but took it from her. The handwriting was one you’d seen so many times.

Goose’s best friend,

Coffee it is. But I’m paying. I still owe you.

- A girl who also has a crush, Carol Danvers

#carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #captain marvel #captain marvel x reader #reader insert #marvel #mcu #lesbian #wlw

604 notes · View notes

jackrrabbit · 3 years

Text

cooking at 3am /// Osamu x f!Reader

Request: Imagine cooking together with Osamu at 3am because neither of you could sleep (or because ‘Samu got the midnight munchies lol). You don’t have anything specific in mind; you’re just playing around and feeding each other little bits of what you make.

A/N: bruh you said munchies and my mind said [[ h i g h o s a m u ]] sorry this went in a kinda different direction? but still fun 3am cooking project vibes :P

Tag/warnings: fluff, light drug use (weed), you and Atsumu are lowkey Bros™️, Osamu's kinda baby 🤧

Osamu’s not good at smoking.

He doesn’t really know how to inhale—you know, hold it in his lungs so it can soak in or whatever—and when he does, he coughs. Except he tries to repress the coughs. Even if he wants to hide it, he’s always close enough to you that you can feel his chest moving from trying not to cough when he takes a hit.

And also, like every baby smoker, he can’t really tell when it’s kicking in until he’s off the deep end.

“Can you feel it yet?”

“No.”

You shoot Osamu a glance where he’s sitting on the ground in front of the couch, watching a nature documentary on Atsumu’s TV with a glazed-over look on his face. “You sure? Your eyes are super red.”

“I can’t feel it. Give it—“ He holds out his hand and honestly you’re pretty sure he’s had plenty, but it’s Atsumu’s vape so who cares. You hand it over and Osamu holds it up to his mouth and sucks, eyes fluttering closed as the light on the side of the Pax glows yellow.

God, he looks hot when he does that. Something about a hot guy smoking, yeah? Actually, no. Something about your hot boyfriend smoking.

Except 'Samu holds his breath a second too long and you can see the urge to cough hit him… Wait for it, you think to yourself, and a second later he hacks and wheezes the vapor out in a wispy cloud that reflects silver against the semi-dark. You coo in sympathy and pat his back. “Want some water?”

Osamu shakes his head, hand over his mouth to stop the coughing. On the tv, David Attenborough talks about penguin courtship rituals and Atsumu (who’s been draped on the couch next to you for the past few hours) gives a light little sigh in his sleep. You check the time. 3am. Bedtime. Too bad you and 'Samu are both too high to drive home…whoops. Guess you’re spending the night at Atsumu’s place.

Osamu rubs his bloodshot eyes like they’re itchy, which they probably are. “Hey, can we— uhh… Do we have pancakes.”

“Pancakes, babe? You mean the ones you made for breakfast?”

“Yeah, there’s leftovers…I made you extra and you didn’t want them.” He twists around and gives you an incredibly dirty look, like this is something you did on purpose to hurt his feelings. “If you don’t want them I’m going to eat them.”

“Wait, 'Samu—“ But Osamu's already getting up off the floor to wander over to the next room. You debate pausing the show—it’s a really good scene—but you leave it going for Atsumu's sake because you’re pretty sure the narration is the only thing keeping him asleep. He’s kinda drooling on your shoulder and you have to push him off to go follow your boyfriend to the kitchen.

“What is all this stuff? Ugh…” Osamu's pawing through the fridge. There’s a lot of crinkling, plastic sounds—you catch a glimpse inside and all of the shelves are stacked up with plastic bags and styrofoam containers.

You yawn and hop up to sit on the kitchen island. “Takeout? I don’t think he cooks.” Atsumu's going to get a lecture tomorrow for keeping 2-week-old Indian food in his fridge. God knows you heard it way too many times before you and Osamu moved in together. You don’t envy 'Tsumu.

Osamu sits down in front of the fridge, fumbles with a drawer, and pulls out a bag of moldy grapes. “Gross…who lives like this…”

You snicker into your hand.

“I can’t find the pancakes.” 'Samu's pulling the plastic drawers all the way out now, setting them down on the floor as he inspects the contents of the fridge.

“They’re not here.”

“You ate them?”

“No, I— Hey, put those back in,” you tell him helplessly as he shuts the door of the fridge, ignoring all the leftover food he took out. Yeah, half of it was probably off anyway, but Atsumu's gonna be pissed if he wakes up and there’s takeout going bad all over his kitchen floor.

“You threw away my pancakes?” Now the look on Osamu's face is utter betrayal. He stands up off the floor and glares sulkily at you. “I made those for you…”

“I didn’t throw them away, they’re—“ You hold back a laugh and wish you had your phone on you (where did it go?) so you could take a picture. He’s so cute when he smokes. “—they’re at home.”

“At home?”

“Yep, at home. The place where you and me live, remember?”

“Oh.” Osamu pauses, reaches out absently to grab the edge of your sleeve. You’re wearing one of his hoodies. “We’re not at home?”

“Nope. We’re at Atsumu's place,” you tell him through a giggle.

He plays with your sleeve, contemplating. “Why?”

“Because we’re out of weed and he said he’d smoke us out. And we like hanging out with him.”

“Oh. We do?”

“Yes.”

“…’Kay.” It takes Osamu a second to accept this, but then he nods seriously. “(Y/N), I'm hungry.”

“I know. What do you want to eat? You could probably have any of that stuff, I don’t think he’ll miss it.”

'Samu thinks about it for a moment, scanning the array of takeout containers spread out across the kitchen floor. “I want pancakes.”

“The pancakes are at home, remember?”

“Yeah…” Osamu flips over his grip on your sleeve and traces his thumb down the lines in your palm. “I could make some?”

More pancakes? “I don’t think 'Tsumu has eggs, babe. Or flour. Or…baking soda?” You’re not really sure what ingredients go into pancakes. Whatever cooking skills you possessed pre-Osamu have deteriorated significantly since you moved in together and he took over any and all food preparation for your household.

He pouts at this, and his hair is a little messed up, and he’s so pretty that you can’t stand how much you like him in that second. Mine mine mine, something in the back of your brain says. He’s mine.

You reach up and Osamu obediently ducks his head down so you can smooth his hair back into place and fix the bits that are flipping over his part. “Is there anything else you want to eat?”

“Onigiri.”

“Oh…” Well, at least Atsumu probably has rice. “Sure. Ok. That’s your specialty.”

“I want ya to make it for me.”

“What?” You frown and pull your hand out of his. “You know my cooking sucks.”

“No it doesn’t. (Y/N)’s food’s the best.”

“You own an onigiri shop, come on—“

“Please?”

One of his bangs falls back in his eyes and without thinking you reach up to put it in place. “Okay, fine. But you can’t complain about it if it’s not good.”

He smiles and you want to blush. “Yes! I promise.”

So you do it for him. Even though you’re high too. You measure some rice and water into the rice cooker (Osamu has to give you pointers on how much of each to put in) and you scrounge around Atsumu's depressingly bare kitchen for a few sheets of seaweed and some easy fillings. Osamu pulls a stool up to the island counter and rests his chin on his hands so he can watch you with a bleary look of adoration on his face.

It takes you…maybe half an hour to be done? It’s hard to gauge time when you’re high. You and 'Samu both jump when the rice cooker finishes and plays the little rice cooker song, which will remain stuck in your head for the foreseeable future. 'Samu hums it in a loop while you shape the rice into lopsided triangles and wrap the nori around it.

“Here,” you tell him when you set the plate down in front of him. He looks entirely too happy to be eating your mediocre food for someone who literally does this for a living, but who cares.

He picks one, takes a bite, swallows. And blinks.

“What do you think?” you ask in spite of yourself.

“Umm…salty,” Osamu says.

You grab one to try yourself and it’s salty. Like, ocean salty. Yuck. “I told you it would be bad,” you complain, trying to tug the plate away but Osamu grabs it and pulls it back.

“Noooo…it’s good,” he lies, although his face is giving him away. Still, he takes another bite and chews enthusiastically.

“Shut up.” You tug a little harder but Osamu doesn’t let go.

He swallows, pulls a face, and takes another one. “So good. I love it.”

“Shut up. You sound so fake. You’re going to get sick if you eat that.” You keep pulling, but he insists on pretending it’s edible so you admit defeat and help him finish the onigiri off. God, they’re awful. But he keeps eating and so you do too.

When you’re done, your mouth feels dry as fuck and you want to sleep almost as much as you want to drink about a gallon of water. “Is it bedtime yet?” 'Samu asks, wiping his mouth and then rubbing his eyes again.

The clock over the oven says it’s past 4. “Yes. It’s bedtime.”

“Wait—we’re…we’re not at home, right? We’re at 'Tsumu's?”

“Mhm.”

“I prolly drove here…I dunno if I can drive now,” Osamu tells you slowly, like he’s apologizing. “I think I'm kinda high.”

“Oh yeah?” You hold your laugh back and put your hands up on his cheeks. “How do you feel?”

“Dizzy. Blurry? Like…you’re in slow-motion.” His hands come up to layer over yours. “You’re pretty in slow-mo.”

“Prettier than usual?”

Osamu closes his eyes, scrunching them up to think and then looking over your face intently. “Same amount, just slower. So it’s easier to see.”

“That so?” You slip your hands around to drape over his shoulders and get up on your tiptoes to give him a little kiss on the cheek, because he’s earned it. “You know what, I think I'm kinda high too. I think we’re going to have to have a sleepover.”

“On the couch? S’not big enough for us both.”

“You can sleep with 'Tsumu in his bed…or I guess you could sleep on the ground?”

'Samu's mouth twists and his brows draw together. You can practically hear the gears in his mind turning while he considers alternatives. “Can we share the bed?”

“I think Atsumu's gonna want it. It’s his house.”

“But he’s already sleeping.”

True, you can hear Atsumu snoring lightly from the living room underneath David Attenborough’s description of endangered falcons in the Philippine rainforest. You should really wake him up—matter of fact, you should really clean up the kitchen because it’s a huge mess—but 'Samu's already pulling you away. And you’re so sleepy.

“He’s going to be pissed tomorrow,” you tell Osamu through a yawn, but you let him steer you in the direction of Atsumu's bedroom, holding your hand.

“Don’t care…I hate sleeping without you.”

“Yeah,” you say, and you squeeze his hand and he looks back at you like you’re the literal best thing in the entire universe—and you decide you should get him high more often. “Same.”

#osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader #hq imagines #hq fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #osamu #osamu miya

459 notes · View notes

bridgehampton · 3 years

Text

Mommy's Boy

Oikawa x reader, sub!oiks, technically seijoh four x each other x reader

Nsfw

Mommy's Boy

You and Oikawa Tooru had been dating for a while. You and he had met at a summer camp the year before high school and had started dating. His playboy demeanor was totally faked and you found it quite cute. He acted so domineering and in control around his teammates and the people who went to his school.

However, when he was with you he was nothing like that.

“Mom...mommy please.” Tooru sobbed as you slid the strap in and out of his tight hole. You gently thread a finger through his hair as you thrust into him. His moans and whimpers were reaching a peak. He was about to cum. “Please mommy let me cum this time.” You chuckle into his hair and kiss him on the back of his head as you peg his prostate making him cum. He screamed out your name so prettily as his back bowed.

As you pull out your phone vibrates on the screen a notification pops up:

Iwaizumi Hajime has added you on Snapchat!

“Tooru?” You ask. He hums and slowly rolls over to look at you through heavily lidded eyes. “Iwaizumi just added me on snap, did you give him my snap?” You ask, Tooru began to blush as he looked down at your lap as he twined your fingers together.

“Yeah, I did. I wanted maybe for him to see the show if he wanted to.” He whispered. You giggle and pull him into your chest as you pepper kisses on his forehead.

“You are so cute! Of course, do you want Mattsun and Makki to see as well?” He whimpered against your stomach as he nodded his head.

“Please mommy. I want them to see how good of a boy I can be.” You smile as you push his head back lightly.

“Neither can I.” You say as you lean down to pepper your boy with kisses.

Across town in Matsukawa Issei’s house, Iwa, Mattsun, and Hanamaki Takahiro were hanging out together.

“Oh hey, guys she added me back,” Iwa said, hiding how excited he was that you did. The three of them thought that you were super cute.

As Mattsun and Makki moved to see the notification, but their phones lit up with notifications at the same time.

Y/L/N Y/F/N has added you on Snapchat!

The three stared at each other at immediately added you back as fast as they could. The first thing they saw was a story.

It was a picture of you in a mirror with Oikawa wrapped around you, his head buried in your neck. The caption read “My boy wants to put on a special show if you want to see my pretty boy at his best swipe up ;p”

The three look at each other and swipe up.

The three are immediately added to your private story. The first picture is a black screen with a caption that reads “Please enjoy the show!”

The second is a picture of you wearing Tooru’s jacket unzipped so low that it showed that you weren’t wearing a bra.

All three swallowed.

“What is?”Iwaizumi swallowed as they clicked to the next picture. Iwaizumi dropped the phone. On the screen was a video of Tooru wearing a cheerleading uniform that was much too short for him. The shirt was cropped and showed off his midriff and the skirt ended high on Tooru’s creamy white thighs. The skirt rode up even higher as he knelt at your feet. “Pretty boy,” Your voice lightly purred.

“Are they going to fuck?!” Makki asked. Iwaizumi choked as his eyes bugged slightly.

“Oikawa looks really hot,” Mattsun said, slight awe in his voice. The other two looked at him and then down at the video to look at Oikawa again. They all shared a look that read ‘don’t tell him about this.’ As they clicked to the next video.

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You adored it when Tooru looked up at you from where he knelt on the floor. His brown eyes were open wide and adoring as they stared at you.

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” You gently trace the curve of Tooru’s jaw with the tip of your strap-on. His eyes slitted and a haze began to come over them. His mouth opened and he slightly turned his head to try to catch the tip in his mouth.

“Uh uh,” you gently tapped the side of his face. Tooru huffed and a pout came over his pretty face. “Isn’t he well behaved?” The question was directed to your audience. Even though Tooru knew they weren’t really there he shivered. You knew it was because his precious teammates were watching. You smirked and moved the tip of the fake cock to his lips.

“Because you’re my special boy I’ll give you what you want.”

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Watching Oikawa Tooru suck cock was one of the most erotic things Issei had ever seen. Takahiro and Hajime couldn’t tear their eyes away either.

“Guys…” Issei started as his two friends turned to look at him. “I’m so fucking hard. I need to jerk off.” As he expected their eyes drifted to his cock and sure enough it was straining to get out of his pants.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Takahiro was staring as Hajime muttered. “Let’s do it.”

There was a pause and then all of the boys tore off their pants and wrapped hands around their cocks as they watched their captain, their friends, blissed-out expression as he sucked a cock.

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He was going to cum. Tooru could feel the tightness in his stomach and look up into your eyes. By your proud smile, he knew that you knew, and what that meant for him.

“Are you going to cum untouched pretty boy? Are you going to cum untouched from sucking mommy’s cock?” He knew that was it. He loved it when you called yourself mommy. So, when the tears welled up in his eyes and a flush covered his cheeks he just let out a desperate whimper as he came.

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“Holy shit.” Hajime gasped as Tooru came untouched. Makki came immediately after their captain, cum splattering his hand and the phone. Mattsun followed him, with Hajime bringing up the rear. The three just sat in silence for a little.

Takahiro cleared his throat as he wiped his cum off his hand and phone. “Guys there’s a link to a live stream that happens every Friday.”

The three silently added the stream’s info to their phones before heading out. With the thought that they couldn’t wait for Friday.

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As you were cleaning Tooru up your phone buzzed with new messages.

Hanamaki Takahiro: That’s hot. See’ya friday.

Iwaizumi Hajime: Thank you for including me.

Matsukawa Issei: Fuuuuck

Matsukawa Issei: If u ever want to spit-roast his pls pls pls remember me

Matsukawa Issei: Fuck sorry I’m so down bad

You snorted and showed Tooru your phone.

“Wanna get fucked by Matsun?” His shudder gave you your answer and so you messaged him back.

Y/L/N Y/F/N: What are you doing Friday, Mattsun?

That's my 1st x reader fic I hope you like it!

#my work #oikawa x reader #seijoh smut #seijoh 4

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lholland14 · 2 years

Text

Thats Mine (IU x Reader)

"A week ago the Grammy's were held last night and boy were the awards swept up" Graham started, talking to the audience while he sat in his chair "Tonight we have a most of the winners here tonight. Since they basically won the whole thing" The audience laughed. "Welcome the 11 time Grammy award winner Taylor Swift, Y/n Y/l/n the newest global K-Pop sensation, Harry Styles the English singer, and her newest album reached top 10, Dua Lipa!"

"Welcome to the Show Y/n Y/l/n!" Graham Norton greeted me. "Now you've never been on the show before have you?"

"Uh no, I don't believe so." You smiled shyly at the award winning host.

"Well, welcome." Graham clapped along with the fellow guests and the audience. "Now I have to ask you about a running joke with your girlfriend IU." The crowd screamed in anticipation when he pulled up a picture of your wonderful girlfriend posing wearing a sweatshirt that was yours.

"Now you commented 'That's where my sweatshirt went'." He grinned showing the audience the comments. "And after that it just became running joke with the fans"

You laughed remembering how much a simple comment blew up "Yeah, she was away on tour that time and she loves wearing my clothes so she'll try to steal them before she leaves. I noticed my favourite sweatshirt was missing and when I looked at social media I realized she had taken it."

"Wait do you not realize whenever she takes your clothes?" Dua looked at you in shock

"No I know," You smiled "I just think it's funny when she thinks she's stealthy"

"Well she must think she's James Bond because she took your hat this time didn't she" Graham put up another picture of IU wearing your Harvard hat. "This time you just commented 'That's my hat' After that the fans have not stopped asking IU if she's wearing any of your clothes.

"I feel like the joke has been blown way out of proportion, but I'm not complaining." You smirked.

"And I just have to point out her next post where she is wearing a beautiful dress, and you commented 'I bought that'"

"I did." You smiled fondly at the memory of Ji Eun twirling in the beautiful lilac dress. Her laughs echoing when you stood up from the dressing room chair to ask her to dance. "I noticed the dress when I went on tour in Scandavia and was in Sweden at the time. I was shopping and noticed the dress and immediately thought of Ji Eun. Light purple is her favourite colour so I bought it for her."

"Awwwwww" Taylor cooed and clung to your arm "Can you be my girlfriend?"

You laughed but shook her off "Sorry but I'm taken."

Taylor pouted but quickly shook it off when Dua offered to replace you. So the sitting order was switched to Harry, you, Dua and Taylor.

Graham shook his head before turning to the screen once more "Here," He laughed, n to able to finish "Here is another incredible picture of your girlfriend wearing , apparently" He gave you the side eye making Harry burst out laughing.

"Oh yeah" You laughed at your girlfriend's silly pose before continuing "Um, she wasn't wearing my clothes nor did I buy that outfit, I also didn't take the picture this time" You gestured while the audience chuckled "So I couldn't comment my usual stuff so instead I just said 'Thats my girl'"

With that Harry stood up and clapped, prompting the audience to do the same.

He grinned when he sat down and asked "What did she do then? Ask to break up?" He joked.

"Yup." You deadpanned.

"Wait." Harry gaped

"No way." Dua gasped

"Do you want me to write a song about her?" Taylor joked.

"I'm good thanks." You smiled "She tweeted 'Y/n can we break up for a second? I have to prove a point.' So I accepted and slid into her Dms."

"Oh my God." Taylor covered her mouth.

"Smooth." Graham chuckled "What did you say?"

"Do you like IU because I've got my I on U." You laughed.

"Oh my God." Taylor repeated herself dying of laughter with Dua Lipa.

"Yeah." You grinned "The funny thing is thought the whole time we were literally a room away from each other."

"So after you DM'd her what did you do?" Graham asked intrigued

"I snapped my best friend Jisoo of BlackPink, saying that I saw the hottest girl and sent Jisoo a picture of IU laying on the couch. I snapped that I was going to ask her out, but was nervous because she was way out of my league." You noticed Harry howling on the floor next to you and joined in the laughter.

"Err, right so Jisoo posted the snaps on Twitter tagging Ji Eun and said 'Y/n slide into her DMs in which IU replied 'She already did' and posted the pictures of my horrible pickup lines that I know she hates. But secretly loves" You whispered to the audience.

"Oh so Jisoo was your wingman." Dua grins "I'll have to ask her for help next time I see her."

"She's not very helpful" You joked earning a hit from the English singer.

"Did you guys ever get back together?" Harry asked, still sitting on the floor.

"I knew I forgot to do something." Instantly the colour drained from your face upon the realization you never did.

Again Taylor repeated those three words she had repeated earlier and again asked if you wanted her to write you a song.

"Call her." An audience member yelled.

"Should I call her?" You smirked.

The yes from the audience was deafening.

"Here goes," You began searching for her contact "If she rejects me this will be awkard."

Not even after the first ring did Ji Eun pick up.

"Dang girl, busy much?" You joked

"You're on live TV Y/l/n did you not think I was gonna pick up?" She giggled

"True." You smiled and paused before feeling a slap on your leg from former One Direction member.

"You know princess, I love flirting with you, but I’d have even more fun dating you." You wriggled your eyebrows at the camera.

She laughed again before replying, "Mmh I don't know my ex was pretty amazing, I might get back with her."

"I don’t normally make the first move, but there’s no way I’m letting you get away." You raised you eyebrow at Harry and Graham's poor attempts to hide their laughter.

"Well then, I couldn't possibly say no to that." You could practically hear her smile.

"Clear your schedule, because I’m taking you on the best date of your life this weekend." You grinned, making a heart with your fingers at the camera for your girlfriend? No not yet. For your person.

"Okay will do darling." She chuckled before hanging up. She blushed and bit her lip when she saw you high five an audience member.

"She's crazy." She muttered to herself. "She's mine."

#iu #iu scenarios #k-pop #k-pop scenarious #iu imagines #iu reaction #iu story

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hoodieofholland · 3 years

Note

Maybe can u write something like reader and Tom broke up a while ago and Tom finds sex tape so he gets emotional and horny at the same time and he realise how much he misses her ?

a/n: sad and horny sounds like how i feel whenever thinking about tom and the fact that my fics are just fics lol jk anyways, hope you like it and thanks for requesting :)

NSFW CONTENT BELLOW

Warnings: angst and sad stuff, mentions of smut, language, broke up

The house was quiet, filled with the feeling of lost that has consuming Tom for the last two months. It's been hard, he made no attempt to lie to anyone who asked. It was hard to face the fact that you were no longer there.

You and Tom were in a relationship for three beautiful years, until... you weren't. Something was off, but he couldn't say what. Both of you just split apart gradually, till the day you said goodbye.

Tom tried to come up with something to distract his mind from the thought of you. He played golf twice a week, spent some time with Harrison and his brothers, watched some movies alone. And it was starting to work. He felt like moving on for the past three weeks, not thinking about you all the time.

But there was one thing he started doing tonight that seemed to bring him down again. He sat down with his laptop and scrolled through some of your memories together. It wasn't his intention at first, but he had nothing to do and was too off to watch a movie or hang with his mates, so he just thought about organizing his files when his eyes crossed with the fold that held some of his old photos. There were plenty of pictures and videos that you took. He promised himself he would drop it off, but he just couldn't take his eyes from the screen when a video came to his view.

"Stop filming me!", you yelled in a high-pitched voice while giggling at the camera Tom was holding.

"Well, miss, would you mind telling me why I thought it was so interesting filming you in this lovely evening?" Tom's voice came through the speaker, and he smiled when you bite your lips to hide a sheepishly smile.

"I burned a whole batch of cookies down", you muttered, quite amused for your lack of skills in the kitchen. Your boyfriend laughed hard and you did the same. "Shut up, dork. I'm calling Sam".

"Yeah, you better, or we're not gonna eat anything", Tom teased and you shoved his chest. "Just kiddin', love. C'mere".

And then Tom, sat on bed, lost the smile on his lips. In the video, you two were kissing, and you had an amazing smile while pecking his lips.

"Love you, darling".

"Love you too, Tommy. Now, stop this video and make this british ass useful".

He breathed heavily, determined to stop it. He was doing good now. Or at least the best he has done since you went away. But it was good enough to carry on, and he was risking it again.

But then he saw a couple of interesting frames from other records and decide to click on each one of them.

"Oh, what is it that we have here?", he said to the camera, walking inside the room and pointing it at you. You were in front of a mirror, a new lingerie playing in display for him and the camera. "Wow, darling. Didn't tell me you were putting on a show tonight".

Tom was amazed by the way both of you were so bold to each other, so comfortable with talking to a camera, while you bounced your hips in a sensual manner to him with a teasing yet sweet smile on your lips.

"It was supposed to be a surprise, Tommy", you say, resting your hands on your hips. "What you think, though?"

"Well...", he sighed dramatically and you laughed. "Can you turn around one more time for me, love? So I can give my final opinion".

You shake your head in disbelief, half laughing at his attempt, but oblige his ask.

"I think you're bloody stunning, darling. Fucking hell, how did I get so lucky?"

Tom shifts on his spot uncomfortably, feeling a light pressure on his chest at the memory of your laughing and blushing at his sassy comments.

"Yeah?", you smiled, and by the way your arms were stretched in the video, he can tell you were tugging on the collar of his shirt. "Mind stop recording it and showing me how much of a lucky man you are?"

"Fuck, dar-" and the video ended. Sat there, Tom knew pretty way what happened next. He remembered the taste of your skin when he tried to take your panties with only his teeth, tongue tracing a wet path on the softness of your hipbone.

He takes a deep breath, too aware of how fucked up he was feeling right now. He should have stopped, he knew that, but now, he just felt like another video couldn't hurt much more.

He was definitely wrong.

Bringing himself to play the next one, an older video, he realized he didn't remember about that one. It started with your face, smiling at the camera while fixing something behind it.

"Okay, I think it's alright...", you said, licking your lips as you clasped your hands together. When you stepped back, you were wearing only bra and panties, and Tom was laid on the mattress, hand over his visible bulge, stroking himself lazily over his boxers as his free arm rested behind his head.

"You look so beautiful right now" he said, groaning a little. "C'mere here, baby, can't wait much longer".

"Patience, eager boy. Save some for the camera", you giggled while crawling on bed to sit on his lap.

"Fuck, can't believe we doing this", he said, hands automatically running down from your hips to your ass. He gives it a firm slap and squeeze. "Gonna treat you just right, so you won't need any video to remind you who made you feel this good, baby".

Tom had completely forgotten that he still had that video saved in his laptop. He suddenly felt flushed for watching it after you broke up, but then again he couldn't take his eyes off the screen when you were taking out your bra, freeing your pretty boobs.

The sounds of your whines and moans filled the room now, and Tom could swear he felt your touch just by the way he remembered of how good it was. Watching you so intense, so given to him, he started to feel his cock hardening by the thought of you riding him like you did that night.

"Fuck", he mutters to himself as he watched you being flipped on the mattress when the pleasure was too much to take and your legs too weak to keep going. In the video, Tom started to fuck you, one of your legs wide open for him and your eyes rolled back as you tugged hard on his biceps to keep yourself steady. Watching the scene, Tom brought his hand over his crotch and started to feel a bit of what he was feeling that night, as he palmed himself.

Right now, Tom knew he had taken a path that was no longer healthy. He so desperately needed to feel you, to touch you. He missed you. He missed the way you would moan his name, they way your hands would grip on his hair when he was eating you out, the way you laughed when something came wrong in the moment, but kept so horny that it wouldn't matter. He missed you and all the affection that you both shared when having sex.

"Tom, I'm gonna-" you moaned loud. It was almost pornographic, but surely was better than porn. For a second, Tom thought about getting off with the video. He was fucking horny at this point, after all, and he knew damn well that if he touched himself it'd be you on his mind all the time anyways. Besides, he hadn't fucked since you went away. But then again, when it was coming to an end, he felt sad, watching you both reaching your highs and holding each other for dear life. It was intimate and beautiful. He missed that too.

"Need to turn off the camera, darling", he said, breath still heavy as he propped his hand on the mattress. You held him closer, not giving him a chance to move.

"Not yet", you breathed out. You still wanted to keep yourself full of him, feel his cock inside of you. "I'm not ready", you bite your lips and smile when he nodded and gave you a kiss on your cheek. "I love you, Tom".

"Love you so fucking mu-"

Tom shot the laptop down, eyes tearing up as he felt the clench on his chest. Fuck, he missed you more than he was willing to admit, more than he wanted to. The images of you close to him, whispering his name, it wouldn't leave his mind even if he closed his eyes tightly.

Tom knew that night would be long, and he just hoped that he might feel you close to him in that way again.

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

Taglist:

@pinkrockstar19 @onyourgoddamnleft @spideyspeaches

@miraclesoflove @zspideyy

#tom holland #tom holland blurbs #tom holland imagines #tom holland fic #tom x reader #tom holland smut #boyfriend!tom #request #anon

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quokkacore · 3 years

Text

can you dig it? (m) [kim doyoung & kim jungwoo]

summary: post concert highs can be a real bummer, and tonight, after a particularly intense performance, your boyfriends help you come down.

pairing: kim doyoung x kim jungwoo x fem!reader

genre: poly!au, 70s!au, band!au, smut, fluff

warnings: drug usage (weed specifically), mentions of other substances (lsd and cocaine), shotgunning, established poly relationship, soft dom jungwoo, mentioned switch jungwoo, hard dom doyoung, sub reader, high sex, sex on a water bed!!, unprotected sex, spit kink, they're all so sweaty help, mxm, degradation kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, overstimulation, minor possessiveness

song recs: don’t stop - fleetwood mac // unlock it (feat. kim petras & jay park) - charli xcx // love her madly - the doors // ziggy stardust - david bowie // rhiannon - fleetwood mac // eclipse - kim lip (loona) // flick of the wrist - queen

word count: 5.4k

a/n: this is for my best friend, who i love with all my heart,bc last month we were talking abt the dowoo photoshoot and she said smth about high sex with dowoo. happy birthday queen <3 thank u for listening to me complain abt writing all the time :’)

masterlist

Friday, July 22rd, 1977

The concert hall smelled like cocaine and sweat, you noted to yourself as the three of you joined hands to bow. Cheers from the crowd bounced off of the walls as you bid them your final goodbye, wishing them a good night and telling them to drive safe. Still, their chanting persisted. "Seoul Motel! Seoul Motel! Seoul Motel!"

You wondered vaguely if this was what it was like to be a young god.

The curtain lowered, and the three of you were ushered offstage, to take some pictures and then head back to the hotel, to try and get some rest before you were off to Philadelphia, some five or so hours from where you were now: Boston.

Truthfully, everything passed in a blur. It was almost always like this after these concerts. The thrill and euphoria of performing made it difficult to focus on things. That might have also been because Jungwoo had passed you a joint before the concert. You couldn't be completely sure.

Your tambourine and guitar seemingly disappeared, but you knew it would show up tomorrow for soundcheck when you got to the Philadelphia venue, right along with Jungwoo's bass guitar and Doyoung's drum kit.

What you did know was that here, in the car back to the hotel that your manager was driving, lecturing you and Jungwoo about the importance of being sober when talking to reporters, Doyoung had a hand on your thigh, and that was all you could focus on.

Doyoung was high too. You knew this because ten minutes before you were needed on stage he pulled you forward by the hips and told you to take a few hits from the hand rolled joint and blow the smoke into his mouth. Of course, he wasn't as high as you and Jungwoo were, and he knew how to hide it better. But if you were to get close enough you'd notice the redness rimming his eyes, the dilation of his pupils.

The three of you were something, that was for sure. You had been, probably ever since Jungwoo joined the band, some eight years ago, in the fall of '69. You only really defined what you were once you got your first big hit thanks to some disc jockey in LA playing a song you had written, Calabasas, on the radio back in '73.

The song had blown up, and suddenly the three of you were whisked into a whirlwind of celebrities, drugs, paparazzi and producers who thought the three of you were born yesterday. Yes, you were college kids that ran on booze and weed, but you weren’t complete morons. That was when the three of you sat down to properly discuss boundaries, what slid and what didn’t.

You and your boys decided that night that weren’t down with the idea of everyone knowing. Too many prying eyes. The public didn’t really know, because the press would have a damn field day.

Other than that, it was a pretty open secret. In the industry, who was going around with who didn’t really matter—a lot of them were too off their face to even care. You realized that a few years back when David Bowie walked in on you watching Jungwoo and Doyoung get it on in a bathroom at some afterparty in New York City, and closed the door muttering something about how strong the edibles were.

So, what your manager said fell on deaf ears. Too much weed, too much adrenaline, too much energy for someone who needed to head back onto the road in a few hours.

When you finally got back to the hotel, Jungwoo grabbed your hand in the elevator on the way up to your rooms, which were right next to each other. "You said that your bed was really big… can we come up?"

You nodded, leaning against his arm. Doyoung hummed affectionately at the sight, noting how tired you both were.

"You two are about five seconds from passing out," Doyoung mumbled, and you waved your hand in denial.

"Are not," you protested like a child.

"Y/N, don't be a chump. I'm pretty sure if Woo weren't next to you, you'd have fallen over."

You didn't have the energy to counter, and as the elevator slid open, you were the first one to march out, ready to just take a cold shower and die for the next few hours.

Realistically, you knew that wasn't what would happen. What would happen was that you would shower, get into bed and then toss and turn for another hour or so. Only then would the adrenaline truly wear off. The weed didn't help, making you feel sleepy.

You unlocked the door, and Doyoung and Jungwoo gawked at the sight—and size—of your bed. It could probably fit all three of you easily.

Since only one room would spark rumors, the manager usually booked two: one for Doyoung and Jungwoo and one for you. Your room always went unused. Usually, you would have to push Doyoung's and Jungwoo's beds together to make enough room, leaving an awkward and uncomfortable dip for the person in the middle. Whoever got the middle was handed the terrible double edged sword: cuddles galore, but a sore back in the morning.

Immediately Jungwoo jumped onto the bed, gasping and immediately laughed gleefully as the bed sloshed underneath him.

"A water bed!?" He exclaimed, splaying out his limbs. "Oh, far out. You really lucked out, dollface."

He kicked off his shoes and curled up in the middle, eyes fluttering shut. You followed, sitting at the side as you peeled off your white leather go-go boots. Throwing yourself down next to him, you sighed at the sensation of waves beneath you, and nodded. "Oh, this is ace," You murmured, "Feels great."

Peeling one eye open as Jungwoo wrapped his arm around you, your gaze landed on Doyoung, who was still leaning against the wall. You beckoned him over with a hand. "C'mere, princey."

He made sure that the air conditioner was working before sitting down on the other side of Jungwoo, for which you were grateful. The still drying sweat on the back of your neck and on your chest started to cool instantly. You and Jungwoo giggled as Doyoung’s weight sent waves rippling beneath you.

"So, are you guys gonna sleep or what?" Doyoung asked, kicking his shoes off as well and peeling off his denim jacket. His eyes were still wide open and he didn't look tired at all. "I'm probably staying up a little later, I have some ideas for some lyrics I want to get down—"

"I would love to sleep. But I can't," Jungwoo declared before glancing knowingly at the both of you, "and neither can either of you."

You hummed in agreement. "Hmm, you're not wrong. Too much energy left."

You turned to bury your face into his chest. His forest green short-sleeved button up was only buttoned up halfway, easily revealing his collarbones. He smelled like pot, sweat, and designer cologne. His chest rumbled as he continued to speak.

"What about you, bunny boy? You can't tell me you don't still feel it."

"The weed or the concert jitters?" Doyoung's voice was raspy, cautious. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going. Once you and Jungwoo ganged up on him, it wouldn't take long to wear him down.

"Both," You and Jungwoo said in unison. You laughed at the sound. Doyoung chuckled as well, and you cracked your eyes open, despite how cozy you felt with Jungwoo stroking the skin of your nape.

"Well, the jitters are still there. That's why I'm staying up. As for the weed… well, yeah. I still feel it."

Jungwoo sighed. "How's the weed hitting you, though?"

"Honestly?" Doyoung's eyes met yours, and you felt something simmer in your chest. He huffed, deciding to take a bite of the apple, and leaned towards the both of you.

"The weed, plus watching you two perform… Safe to say I'm pretty fuckin' horny right now."

You bit your lip, giving him a sleepy grin. "Oh, Woo, we turned him on." The teasing tone wasn't missed despite the sleepiness in your tone.

"And what about it?" Doyoung asked, leaning back on his hands. "You can't say that watching Jungwoo do the thing doesn't get you going."

"I have a thing?"

"We all have a thing, Woo. Princey's over there is at the end of Mr. Jones' Motorcycle. You know, when he finishes the solo? He always throws his head back, because there's sweat and hair in his eyes. You can see his neck and shit..."

Jungwoo blinked. "Shit, that is his thing… What's mine?"

You raised an eyebrow at Doyoung. "His is the thing where he gets so into it that he throws his head back and plays, and still manages to get every bass note right, right?"

Doyoung nodded with a satisfied hum. "Gets you going, right?"

You brought a hand up to Jungwoo's chest, slowly sliding it down his stomach. Your voice lowered to a raspy murmur, and Jungwoo's hand tightened around your waist. "Damn right it does."

"And plus, you both have told me that watching me put together the drum kit is hot."

"'Cause it is!" Again you laughed as Jungwoo said the same thing you did.

"Jungwoo." Doyoung's voice sounded thicker. "You can't tell me that Y/N isn't an absolute vixen on stage."

"You're right," The younger man answered, voice gruff. His hand slid down, gripping your butt and giving it a light squeeze, before directing his words at you. "Oh! Y/N, your thing is when—you know how every time you play the transition from Calabasas to Saturn’s Rings you sway your hips and flip your hair back and forth? Sometimes you’ll look at me or at Doyoung while you do, and you looked at me tonight. You're a little tease up there, dollface."

Your breath hitched at their words. “Oh, yeah?” You goaded, cuddling further into Jungwoo’s chest. You let a coy smile grace your face as your eyes fluttered shut. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Don’t be a brat,” Doyoung growled.

“No, Doie,” Jungwoo hummed. He suddenly sounded a lot more awake. “...What would you have her do about it?”

Your eyes fluttered open, swallowing despite the sudden dryness in your throat. Doyoung's pupils were still blown wide, but you were pretty sure it wasn't because of the weed. He licked his lips. "Princess, get on your knees."

Jungwoo prompted you up, pulling you up to stand at the side of the bed. Doyoung circled around the bed, before standing next to Jungwoo. Your gaze fluttered between your two boyfriends, one looking stern, the other looking like he was having the time of his life.

Quietly, you lowered yourself to kneel on the plush carpet, fingers gripping the silver fabric of your dress' skirt to hike it up, so that you wouldn't kneel on it. Your hands itched to reach for them but you knew you needed to ask for permission. "Can I touch you?"

Doyoung smiled, reaching for his belt. "There's our good girl," He said. Your mouth was already watering embarrassingly as you helped him undo his belt, pulling him out of his boxers. He was already half hard, and as you lifted your hand to spit in it, someone grabbed you gently by the rest. Jungwoo leaned over, turning your hand to reveal your palm to him. His eyes seemed to burn into yours as he let his spit fall into the palm of your hand. You felt your legs close, thighs trying to rub together at the sight.

"Go on," Jungwoo murmured, using a hand on your jaw to move your head. Your eyes fell on Doyoung's cock again, slowly getting harder and harder. Your hand wrapped around it, stroking slowly as you met his smoldering gaze. You stroked him until he was rock hard in your grip, and his breathing turned heavy. Again, you swallowed, and Doyoung noticed this time.

“What is it, princess? You want it in your mouth?”

“Yes, please,” You whispered, eyes wide. He chuckled breathily, head tipping back as you ran your thumb over the slit. His eyes met Jungwoo’s, who was palming himself through his pants.

“What do you think, baby?” He asked him.

“Don’t be mean, Doyoung,” Jungwoo said softly. “Look at her, she’s desperate. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You whined, nodding. The pair chuckled. Jungwoo grinned at the state you were already in. “Go ahead, dollface. Give it a kiss.”

Before Doyoung could say anything else, you took his dick into your mouth, and let out a soft moan at how heavy he felt, hot and pulsing. He let out a guttural groan of your name, a hand burying itself in your hair. His other hand gripped Jungwoo’s shirt, pulling him forward to meet in a tongue-filled kiss.

Slowly, Doyoung’s hips started rocking back and forth, grinding into your mouth. Your hands stroked what you couldn’t fit, as well as his balls. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to relax so as to not gag on his length. But when he sped up, it became too much to avoid.

A tap on your shoulder, and Doyoung let you off of his cock. You turned your head to look up at a very flushed Jungwoo, who had pulled his dick out of his pants as well. The words, “Me too?” tumbled out of his swollen lips. And with that gentle, breathy tone, who were you to disobey?

You wrapped your lips around Jungwoo, who hissed at the sudden heat of your mouth. From there, something primal inside of you took control, wanting nothing more than to please—you took turns sucking them off and stroking them, the muffled sounds of their moaning spurring you on.

It was always like this—during sex, Doyoung was the meaner one, manhandling you and throwing degrading words in your face that made your stomach curl in sick pleasure. He was the one who could put you in your place when you became too bratty to handle. Jungwoo was gentler, but he was all too content to watch Doyoung toss you around. He would always swoop in after Doyoung took you apart, and piece you back together. He’d tell you how good you were, how good you made the both of them feel, and while he definitely didn’t treat you like fragile porcelain, he definitely didn’t leave as many bruises as Doyoung did.

And then, when they were both done, they’d shower you in kisses, and whisper in your ear how grateful they were to love you, and say some philosophical thing about eternal love and the cosmos that you’d always be too fucked out to comprehend, but that made your heart do a backflip regardless.

“Shit,” Jungwoo groaned, pulling away from Doyoung’s lips. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum.”

You pulled off of Doyoung to look up at Jungwoo. “In my—in my mouth, please, Woo.”

He nodded, licking his lips as his hands fisted themselves in your hair, gripping but not pulling as he allowed you to touch him the way you wanted. His hands gathered the loose strands into a makeshift ponytail, using it to guide your mouth up and down his hot cock. His hips bucked into your willing mouth, the sound of his hissing and his moaning getting louder and louder, until…

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/N… Y/N!" He groaned, as he came into your mouth. His head tipped back, which gave Doyoung access to his neck, pressing sloppy kisses to the skin. This sight was worth the bitter taste that coated your tongue: one of your lovers in ecstasy while the other anchored him to the ground.

He left his dick in your mouth for a moment, before pulling out with a shaky breath. Doyoung pulled away, letting him breathe. As Jungwoo caught his breath, Doyoung pulled you up, and he sat on the bed, bringing you down with him to straddle his lap.

You turned your head to face Jungwoo, who smiled at you, coming closer to the both of you. One of his hands patted the top of your head. "That was wicked," He said.

Doyoung smiled softly, and gripped your chin to get you to face him. His sweet grin didn't disappear as his grip forced your mouth open. He groaned at the sight of your tongue coated in Jungwoo's semen.

"Gorgeous," He mumbled, eyes trained on your lips as it began to spill out.

"Kiss her," Jungwoo told him, "You know you want to."

So he did, his tongue almost immediately slipping past your lips to get a taste of Jungwoo for himself, swallowing it down greedily. Your hands came up to unbutton his black dress shirt, and his hands pushed up the skirt of your dress to get you to rock your hips against his. You gasped against his mouth at the feeling of only your soaked panties separating him and you, before pushing the shirt off of him.

He moved to lie you down on the bed. As he pulled away from you, you caught his tongue slipping out to lick at a dribble of Jungwoo's cum on his lips. To make matters even worse, the bed was rolling beneath you, making your head spin.

Jungwoo pulled his shirt off before he sat down behind you. Meanwhile, Doyoung moved down your body, parting your legs. He prompted you to sit up, resting your back against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your earlobe as Doyoung peeled your underwear off of you, biting his lip at the sight of your drooling pussy.

"You're absolutely drenched, princess. And all from sucking our cocks, huh?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut as Jungwoo's lips began kissing along your jaw. When you didn't say anything, Jungwoo pinched your sides gently. "Use your words, doll," He whispered. From behind you, his eyes met Doyoung's. "You're gonna keep being our good little girl, right?"

"Y-yes, Jungwoo." Your hand lifted itself to press against his cheek, a silent plea for more kisses. He smiled against your skin.

"Atta girl," He praised, "On your best behavior for us tonight, huh?"

"The little slut's just being good because she wants to get fucked, Woo. Don't get it twisted."

"Please, Doie," You pleaded at the mention of being fucked, "Need it."

The older man chuckled lowly, pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit.

"Told you."

His tongue pressed itself against your hole, and you immediately cried out. You would have immediately started grinding against Doyoung's face if it weren't for Jungwoo's hands on your hips, holding you down and keeping it still.

"I don't think you wanna do that," He murmured. His hands travelled underneath your skirt, gripping the silvery blue gossamer as he tried to lift it up. You did your best to keep your squirming at a minimum as you tried to help him get you out of it. Finally, the bell sleeves were pulled off, and you were left naked as the day you were born.

Jungwoo’s hands moved to your breasts, playing with them as he watched you whimper at the sensation of Doyoung’s mouth working at your folds. When he slipped his tongue inside, you keened, head falling against Jungwoo’s shoulder.

“You’re so pretty like this,” He whispered.

Your chest heaved, squirming up and down as he began to tug and pinch your nipples, calloused fingertips making you cry out.

Doyoung’s free hand gripped your thigh, and his fingers on the other hand slipped inside when he pulled his tongue out. Immediately, he plunged in two fingers, curling his fingers as he attempted to search for that one special spot.

"Ngh, Doie, faster, pleasepleaseplease." Your legs were trembling slightly now.

"So fucking slutty," Doyoung mumbled, chuckling wickedly, "And all I had to do was stick my fingers inside."

He complied with no protest, and the sensation of Doyoung stroking your walls and Jungwoo continuously pawing at your breasts caused a string of moans to come pouring out of your mouth. Jungwoo had been sucking a bruise into your clavicle, but leaned up to press his lips against yours.

"Don't want anyone hearing what's meant for Doie and I," He said, lips brushing yours.

The idea made you even needier, the double entendre making your head spin. Jungwoo didn't want anyone to hear you because if they did, rumors would spread. And on top of that? He didn't want anyone to hear. You were theirs. They were yours. This was a sacred ritual between bodies meant to be witnessed by only the three of you.

Your head felt like you were floating, even though your limbs felt like they were sinking into the watery mattress. A coil began to tighten in your stomach, and your soft whines, muffled by Jungwoo's plush lips, increased in pitch.

They both knew what this meant, because a second later, Doyoung removed his fingers from your core, and Jungwoo pulled away, his hands moving from your breasts to rest on Doyoung's atop your hips. You were left reeling and breathing heavily, that familiar sensation floating away.

When you looked down at Doyoung, you swallowed at the sight of his lips, chin and fingers, all glistening with your wetness.

He lifted himself up off the mattress, and proceeded to sandwich your chest in between his own chest and Jungwoo’s back. He gripped his dick, rubbing it against your folds, which were now even more soaked than before.

"Tell me how much you want it, princess." He pressed his forehead against yours, hissing when the tip caught your clit. You let out a desperate whine, clinging to his broad shoulders.

"Do—Doyoung, please fuck me," You begged, reeling at the sensation. He was so close, all he had to do was slide in. But he refused.

"Not good enough," He insisted.

"Doyoung, don't be mean," Jungwoo said, but he seemed to be more amused by your desperation than anything.

"No, I wanna hear how much she needs us."

You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to gather your words. Jungwoo's hands stroked your sides, trying to calm you down. "You doing alright, doll? You wanna take a breather?"

"We can always stop." Doyoung's voice had turned stable, secure, safe. He started pulling away, until you grabbed him by the forearm and shook your head. You opened your eyes, seeing concern in his eyes

“No,” You mumbled, “Jus’ want some water. Think there’s some in the minibar. ‘M really hot.”

Doyoung nodded, getting up and striding over to the small refrigerator on the other side of the room. He pulled out a water bottle, and popped open the cap before passing it to you. Jungwoo had taken to fanning your face lightly with his hand. You took several long swigs of water, before setting it on the nightstand.

“I’m fine,” You promised. “Can we please keep going? I can take it.”

Doyoung pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yeah,” You said with a nod.

“Doyoung,” Jungwoo murmured, “Be careful.”

“I know, baby." He lowered his eyes to study your face. "I won’t go that hard on you, Y/N.”

You nodded, even though deep down you wanted to protest. You knew that this was probably the best route to take. You could already feel the high—from the weed and the concert—wearing off. You knew that if Doyoung were too rough you’d probably crash on the way down instead of float.

So, Jungwoo brushed some stray hair out of your sweaty face, and Doyoung grabbed your legs gently, wrapping them around his hips. Slowly, Doyoung eased in, and you sighed in satisfaction of finally being filled. He bit into your shoulder, taking deep heaving breaths as he let you get used to the sensation. Jungwoo took turns pressing kisses to the top of your head and the top of Doyoung’s head.

“I love you both so much,” He whispered, “I’m so grateful the universe brought us together.”

Doyoung looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “My baby,” He murmured against Jungwoo’s lips. He then turned to you and did the same, “My princess.”

You smiled at their words, but the need in your core was becoming unbearable. "Doie, Woo, I love you both so much," You murmured, "But Doyoung, if you don't move I'll pin you down and do it myself."

"And you were doing so well," Doyoung groaned with a laugh, before beginning to thrust his hips. It was a slow, torturous glide, and the way it caused the bed to rock left you dizzy in the best possible way. Doyoung was panting into your ear like some sort of beast, and you were whining softly with every cant of his hips.

"You must feel so good right now, huh, doll?"

"Jung—woo," You moaned, clawing at his bicep.

"I know, dolly, I know." He sounded sympathetic enough, but the way he was grinding his dick against your ass suggested otherwise. "Bunny boy is just so good with those hips of his, hm?"

"H-he is!" You cried, "Feel so full, ah, Doyoung!"

Doyoung's eyes met yours, and his hips picked up their pace, until your eyes rolled up into your head. Your head thrashed side to side, leaning against Jungwoo's shoulder. His mouth lowered once again to kiss at your neck, and your hand wrapped itself against his nape, while the other gripped Doyoung's shoulders.

Jungwoo's hands slithered down to where you and Doyoung were connected, and started rubbing at your clit. You shrieked, chest arching. Doyoung hissed. "Shit, do that again," He bit out, "Fuck, princess you just got so tight."

"D-Doie, harder!"

Doyoung looked up at Jungwoo, the two having an unspoken conversation. A second later, Jungwoo gave a cautious nod. Doyoung smiled, before he adjusted his legs. Then…

Then. He began pounding into you at a breakneck pace. Your legs tightened around him, wanting him even deeper than before.

"You love this, don't you? Our pretty little slut." His voice was tighter now, panting with exertion. You nodded.

"Yes, yes! I'm your slut!"

Doyoung grinned, before locking lips with you. His tongue dipped into your mouth, before letting you do the same to him. You could tell he was starting to feel something—he always kissed you or Jungwoo as a way of telling you he wouldn't last much longer.

Truthfully, you could feel it coming too—your body felt like it was on fire, and your hips couldn't stop squirming. Whether it was towards Jungwoo's calloused fingers on your clit, Doyoung's cock, or away from both, you couldn't tell. Your moans were getting shriller too.

You clenched down on his length again, and he grit his teeth, grunting as his pace turned sloppy.

"C-c'mon, princey," You pleaded, "Give it to me, give it…"

"Shit, yes…" His head lolled onto your shoulder. "Gonna stuff you so full, princess, you'll be dripping—"

"Please! Oh, please—"

The two of you fell apart almost at the same time, your orgasm triggering Doyoung's a second later. Your mouth fell open, legs trembling and heart pounding as waves crashed over and under you.

When you came down, Doyoung rolled off of you, turning onto his side to watch you and Jungwoo. Jungwoo, who ceased the movements of his hands and slowly laid you down. Your head landed against the pillows, and you let your eyes shut as you caught your breath.

"Can I take care of you one last time, doll?" You heard Jungwoo say. Your eyes opened blearily, and you reached a hand out towards him, legs parting of their own accord.

Both of your lovers groaned at the sight of your pussy, Doyoung's cum brimming from your folds.

"Absolute perfection," Jungwoo murmured, crawling between your legs. He gripped his dick with one hand, the other swiping through your folds, and you immediately whined at the sensitivity there, teetering the fine line between pleasure and pain.

"Please," You whimpered, "Woo, I want it."

"You're insatiable." He sounded so affectionate, so in love. You watched as his eyes studied his index and middle fingers, covered in a mix of Doyoung's cum and yours, before dipping them into his mouth to lick them clean. You sighed, a dopey smile gracing your features. He lowered himself down to brush noses with you, dark eyes blown wide, wide awake despite the dark circles underneath.

"Guess I'll just have to do something about that."

He slid in as if he was coming home, immediately setting a solid pace that had you seeing stars, arms wrapping around his shoulders to lock hands at his nape. The sensitivity left you pliant in his arms, and Jungwoo didn't hesitate in cradling you in his arms.

"So good for us, Y/N. Always Doie and I's sweet girl."

You nodded, tears brimming at your eyes at the heaviness in your chest, the pulsing in your core. His hair was falling into his eyes, and you lifted your hands to his face, doing your best to brush it away. Your hands cupped his cheeks, heavy eyes burning into his. Your hips were rutting against his desperately now, wanting nothing more than to feel that high with him.

Jungwoo pressed a brief kiss to your neck, feeling something simmer in his gut embarrassingly fast.

Doyoung placed his head next to yours, gently lifting Jungwoo's head to kiss him, hand brushing the other man's ass. When he pulled away, he kissed you as well, and Jungwoo's mouth pressed itself to one of your nipples. You keened against Doyoung's mouth, hips losing all semblance of grace.

Here, you were needy, animalistic, running on instincts, and your boys were drinking it up like water from a desert oasis.

Doyoung pulled away, a thin trail of spit connecting his lips to yours. His hands cradled your head.

"Can you feel it yet, princess?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, silent moans falling from your lips. "Ah, yeah, Doie… s-so close…"

"Me too," Jungwoo groaned between your breasts, "So wet, Y/N…"

"That's from all the cum she's filled with, right, princess?"

You nodded. "Mm—ngh! Stuffed me so good, Doie."

"Yeah? You gonna let Jungwoo fill you up even more? Gonna keep it all inside, right?"

Your stomach did a backflip, and you felt your toes curl. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, I want it—"

"I'll give it to you, doll," Jungwoo growled, "It's all—fuck—all yours. S-same way this is all for us, right?"

Those words were what caused you to finally fall over the edge. Your high was so intense that you could have sworn that your ears popped—clawing at Jungwoo’s shoulders, your eyes squeezed shut. Only one side ended up scratched, since you always kept your right hand nails short to properly play guitar. You sobbed against Doyoung’s lips, and he eagerly swallowed up your cries, shushing you gently as you came back down.

You didn't feel Jungwoo come inside, but you felt it immediately afterwards—the satisfying stickiness, the warmth in your stomach.

You looked at Jungwoo, pressing a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead before prompting him to move off. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you towards him as his little spoon, peppering kisses to your cheek and whispering how good you were. The two of you looked at Doyoung. You reached out, making grabby hands at him. His eyes were drooping, and he was blinking blearily as if he were trying to fight off sleep.

Still, he got up and pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket, as well as his lighter. As he sat back down on the bed, the waves sent you and Jungwoo further and further into the recesses of slumber. As consciousness left you, you caught Doyoung looking down at the two of you as if you were the most precious beings he'd ever encountered. His tone was low and grumbly, but there was a glint of smug satisfaction in his eye.

"I hope you two are happy. I can't remember those goddamn lyrics anymore."

#kwritersworldnet #nct smut #doyoung x reader #jungwoo x reader #doyoung smut #jungwoo smut #kpop smut #kpop au #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct 127 x reader #nct x reader #nct fluff #my writing

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wienerbarnes · 3 years

Text

A Certain Romance (2/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,685

Warnings: not rlly anything

A/N: a lil bit of a deeper dive for these two’s relationship👀... enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST

Your apartment is nice. Very you.

Sam invited him out to some restaurant, but after the last one he suggested, he decided to pass. And when Sam asked him what he was doing instead, if he was seeing you, Bucky lied and said yes. It made Sam happy and got him out of going to another ridiculous restaurant, so he saw it as a win-win.

Once Sam left, though, his thoughts did drift to what you were doing.

You two exchanged numbers at the pizza place after your date, but you two haven’t texted much. He texted you making sure you got home safe, which you did, and a day or so after, you texted him a picture of some advertisement with an awfully cheesy pick-up line written on it, which even he agreed was awful.

But that’s about it. So, he texts you.

Hey. What are u doing?

About to make dinner. Y?

Told Sam I was seeing u. Wanna hang out?

Come over.

Simple enough, he thinks.

You two haven’t had the most meaningful text conversations, clearly, but it’s still nice. No flirting, no typing and retyping messages in order to hook, line, and sinker, no ghosting. No relationship texting.

It was a dream for him. To have a new friend. He’s made plenty of friends, both in New York and in Wakanda. But it’s all under the same… umbrella. Always an agent, a fighter, an analyst of some sort. Someone to train with, to fight with, to fight for. Never someone like you. Someone that works a mundane job and lives in a mundane part of New York where her weekends are filled with going on mundane blind dates or otherwise cooking dinner for one.

It’s a breath of fresh air to not talk about fighting or missions or press or media or anything else he has to hear about at work. The only connection you have with Sam is that you met in a coffee shop a few years ago that has since closed down. He was one of your first friends here.

You could care less about Captain America, too. Which hurts Sam’s ego, and in turn, makes Bucky smile.

So, he goes over to yours.

He’s not sure what you’re making, but he brings a bottle of red wine as a courtesy. You are making dinner after all. Besides, women love wine, right?

Your apartment is nice. Very you.

Enough going on to show that someone does indeed live here, but also enough to show that you’re not exactly swimming in riches, like most people that live in this city.

The place smells like garlic and basil, and he’s glad that he brought the wine.

Shoes discarded at the door, he helps chop up the rest of the ingredients while you put a pot of water to boil. He chops up mushrooms, onion, pancetta, eyeing the bottle of vodka out on the table and tube of tomato paste next to his hand.

It's an understatement to say he’s excited. Most of the pasta he makes is from a bag of precooked noodles and a jar of tomato sauce.

Basic small talk floats through the air as the two of you dance around one another in the kitchen. Even though you’re “dating”, you don’t know much about each other. This isn’t too uncommon from how dating was for Bucky when he was a teenager; you’d marry women knowing very little about them.

Your favorite color is orange. You played violin in grade school. You had a childhood dog named Chowder. Bucky tells you his favorite color is green. He played a little bit of piano when he was younger, but did boxing in his late teens and early twenties before the war. You poke fun at him when he can’t remember the name of his own childhood dog.

“He’s probably rolling over in dog-heaven.”

“Good boy; he’d deserve a treat.”

You laugh.

Easy conversation continues on the couch as bowl after bowl of pasta is eaten and replenished. As fun and seemingly simple questions are asked, like each of your favorite movies or whether or not you pour the milk before the cereal, the room that’s left is used for deeper questions.

“What’s your most embarrassing moment?” You ask him.

He thinks for a moment before opening his mouth, only to close it again. “One time when Princess Shuri was fixing my arm it wasn’t secure completely, so it flew off while I was playing with some of the children.”

“That’s not your most embarrassing moment. I know it’s not, now you have to tell me what it really is.” You tease him.

He’s never been the best liar.

“You’re right, it’s not my most embarrassing moment. My actual most embarrassing moment is just kind of… sad. And I didn’t want to ruin the mood or anything.” He explains, hoping you’ll accept that but instead you give him an encouraging smile to hopefully give him some comfort that whatever it is he wants to tell you is safe in your apartment.

“Okay, uhm. So, in the 40’s, after I was rescued by Steve, but before we shipped out again where I was recaptured for the second and final time. We were all holed up in this little dance club, all the soldiers and their gals. And in walks Peggy Carter in a pretty red dress,” He begins, only glancing at your eyes periodically as if to make sure you’re still there.

“I know she’s Steve’s gal, he told me all about her. I wasn’t flirting with her because I wanted her, I was flirting with her… to make sure I still could. I mean, after being held in that… place… they injected me with stuff, told me things that weren’t true, I mean Steve told me I was repeating my number over and over again when he found me, I didn’t even remember doing that. I felt… violated, used, not like myself. I felt like I wasn’t me anymore.

“So, when Peggy walked in, I thought about how everyone always called me a ladies man, how good I was with women, I mean, I’d take girls out about every damn weekend, you know? I wanted to feel normal, so I flirted with her, tried to get her to dance with me. And she completely ignored me. She never even took her eyes off of Steve. It’s like I was invisible. And it just sort of felt like the nail in the coffin for whoever James Barnes was before the war. It was a realization that I’m never going to be that person again. And it was embarrassing for me.” He explains.

He hasn’t looked up at you again, but he heard your fork stop moving around your bowl a minute or so ago. He feels a lump in his throat thinking about that time, how he knew he’d never get back the man he was, even before knowing what was in store for him after falling off that train. How he used to be this man that wanted a long, happy marriage, six or seven kids running around a big backyard, a white picket fence surrounding a big two-story house in a neighborhood of identical homes. He wanted the cheesy life, at one point. But the same man that wanted that life died falling off a train many years ago.

All of that’s forgotten, though, when you open your mouth, and seem to say the perfect thing to make him feel better.

“One time in the third grade, this girl pulled my skirt down in front of my crush, and I wasn’t wearing any undies.”

A snort escapes his throat as you, somehow, after he’s shared something so deeply personal, something he never even told Steve or Sam about, still found a way to make him laugh. Which is what he wanted, he realizes. The comfort of moving on from that confession and not having to wallow in it like other people would try to. His hand leaves his fork to cover his face as tears threaten to leak out from how hard he’s laughing.

He took that secret to the grave, even if it wasn’t his own. He told himself he’d never tell Steve about how he felt in that situation, and he never did. He never told Steve that he didn’t enlist, either. He couldn’t imagine how Steve would’ve felt knowing that the army would’ve rather taken men that didn’t want to go to war, men who were terrified to go to war, had too much to lose and wanted to be selfish and stay home, than men like Steve who would do anything to enlist. Including lying on the damn enlistment form.

He wonders if Steve is looking at him now. Watching over him as he shares something that he never did with his best friend, with you, a girl he’s met barely a week ago, on your couch over bowls of pasta while he points out leftover sauce on the corner of your lip.

“What’s your greatest fear?” He asks you next.

“Dying alone. Actually, no. Getting kidnapped, probably.”

“Oh, mine’s spiders.” He shares.

It’s so easy to laugh with you, he finds. He jokes with Sam a lot, all the bickering and teasing all in good fun at the end of the day, and it’s mostly pretty funny. But laughing with you. He feels like a teenager again. Somehow, everything is funny; he doesn’t remember the last time he’s laughed so much, especially about things that aren’t even that funny.

It’s raining at the end of the night. Early morning, rather.

“You can take the couch, if you’d like.”

“Nah, I don't mind a little rain, and I like the ride home.” He fed Alpine before he left, but he imagines his cat misses him, even if she’s probably busy licking herself to even notice he’s left.

“Suit yourself.”

You don’t push him. A simple pleasure that’s more of a luxury for him. There’s no pushing or convincing or Are you sure’s with you.

Certainly a luxury, you are.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #marvel

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ppersonna · 4 years

Text

half baked - pjm | m

baby we two distant strangers. i know you don't speak my language, but I love the way she's talking to me - love talk, wayv

↳ summary- park jimin gets a job at your bakery, and you can’t help but find yourself annoyingly attracted to the cocky man.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- park jimin x reader

↳ word count- 5.2k

↳ genre- smut, fluff

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, lightly dom!jimin, sub!reader, slight enemies2lovers, sex in a kitchen, please god don’t fuck in a kitchen its a health code violation, spanking, nipple play, cum play, fingering

↳ a/n- ahHH!HHHHhhh!H! i blame this 100% on @wwilloww for merely putting the idea in my head and i had to take it and run with it. also thank you to @kimtaehyunq my babe/my loml for the amazing banner! i truly do not deserve u but ily so much. and thank you to @chimoona @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @taetaewonderland for being the best mf squad a lady could have and beta-ing this for me! i love you all so much! i hope you enjoy silly cocky jimin!

Two cups of flour, one and three quarters cup sugar, 2 cups of butter.

You know the recipes by heart. In fact, one might postulate that the recipes themselves are the sole contents of your heart.

You live and breathe baking. It is your solace and your truest love.

Which is why it is all nearly thrown into catastrophe when Park Jimin comes into the picture.

It starts on a rather busy day. You’re hard at work in the kitchen, prepping the finished products and presenting them in neat little boxes, when your best friend and co-owner of Wake ‘N Bake, Willow, lets out a frustrated squeal.. You turn your head to find her covered head to toe in flour, making you snort as she shoots you a playfully ominous glare.

“Shut up,” she sniffs as she attempts to pat some fine dust off of her, to no avail. “I only have two hands and about fifty things to do with them at the same time.”

Your lips part to reply something equally sassy when the bell over the front door rings, notifying you of a paying customer. Grabbing a towel, you quickly wipe off cookie debris and throw it at your best friend to do her best to clean off as she follows behind you.

You pause as you take stock of who stands there. A handsome man arrives at the cash register and peers around, presumably looking for an employee. He is gorgeous—ethereal even and looks like someone who walked out of the pages of a magazine. His bone structure screams model, and you can’t help but feel the stirrings of desire for the beautiful stranger.

“Hi! Welcome to Wake ‘N Bake!” Willow sings cheerfully, despite being coated in baking flour.

The man eyes her with a glint of humor in his eye, and Willow’s cheeks turn a hue of pink when she remembers her current appearance.

“Hi,” he speaks. His voice is smooth like butter, and gentle. It makes you feel weak, like you’re warming in the very ovens that your pastries rise in.

“I saw your shop from down the street and I had to stop in. Your desserts look amazing. Is the owner here by chance?”

Your smile fades as he looks around the room for someone else, someone beyond you and your best friend.

Of course.

No one believes that two young women could start and maintain their own business. Everyone assumes that some older, well-off man was at the helm while you and Willow toil for minimum wage.

Your arms cross over your body in clear displeasure.

“We are the owners.”

“Oh!” The man looks surprised but not put off. “Awesome. I was hoping I could… talk to you about, err—… a job?”

His face is sheepish and Willow nearly coos at the sight.

Unfortunately, it appears you and your best friend have warring ideas.

“Yes!” She chimes at the same moment you dead-pan a resounding ‘No’.

Your heads spin to stare at each other—Willow’s eyes wide in disbelief and yours in annoyance.

“We need the help!” She huffs.

“We can do things on our own, like we always have,” you remind her.

Willow gestures to her flour covered clothing in desperation.

“We clearly could use help with how successful we have gotten!”

To your chagrin, she has a point. It might be nice to have someone to help in the front while the two of you manage the kitchen in the back. It would increase your productivity by double what you’re able to do now.

But there’s something about his attitude coming in that rubs you the wrong way. Like, he’s too pretty. Too confident. Too nice.

“What’s your baking experience?” You ask as you turn back to the hopelessly lost, yet ever eager man.

“Oh, err—,” he stutters. “I worked at my friend Jin’s restaurant. That served desserts, too?”

You shake your head in disdain while Willow claps her hands in excitement, a puff of white flour dust pluming into the air.

“Perfect! So you could do sales!?”

“Yeah! I can do sales, no problem.”

You turn your gaze back to Willow who stares at the man like he is her knight in shining armor.

“Willow?! Can I talk to you in the back?”

She knows that tone—the one that tells her you’re not pleased with her decisions. She nods once and politely excuses the both of you from the man before heading back towards the kitchen.

“What in the world is wrong with you?!” She asks the moment the swinging door closed.

“Me?!” You’re incredulous—hands flying in the air. “You’re over here trying to hire the first Joey Hot-Lips who walks in off the street!”

Willow’s anguished face falls and turns into a devilish smirk as she leans back on her heels.

“Aha! You’re attracted to him,” she notes as if she figured out the world's greatest mystery. “That’s why you don’t want him here.”

“What? No!” Your defense crumbles around you. “Did you hear him? He totally acted like he didn’t believe we could be the owners!”

“Oh, come on, that was a simple mistake and you know it! You’re just being protective.”

You ‘humph’ a non-committal response—unable to argue.

You are protective of your bakery. It’s your combined love child with Willow. What started as a dream between cocktails with your best friend became a real brick and mortar reality. You had been through enough trying to open it you can’t help but feel skeptical of anyone trying to get involved. Many tried to discredit your ability to maintain such a successful shop, and you’d rather continue to run it with no one else than see it fall at the hands of another.

“Just as I thought,” Willow hums. “In that case, he’s hired!”

You’re given no chance to reply—the flour-covered girl pushes through the swinging doors and announces to the handsome man that he’s hired and free to start the following day.

“Great! Thanks!” His smile is sincere—blinding and breathtaking, and you hate how much you want to see that smile again.

He leaves as quickly as he arrived, waving goodbye as he exits the chiming door.

“Now, you need to deal with whatever issues you have about letting others into the shop,” she says pointedly, pushing a finger into your arm gently. “And whatever issues you have with wanting to bone him.”

“Willow!” You gasp. “I do not want to bone him!”

“Sure, babe. You think you can fool me but I know you too well. Just try not to fuck him in the kitchen, alright? I don’t need the health inspector up our ass.”

The next early morning starts at 4:30 am, with you elbow deep in cookie dough for a catering order. You’ve nearly forgotten about the new employee starting until the man himself strolls into the back kitchen as if he’s worked there for years.

“Hey!” He says cheerfully, two cups of coffee in his hands. “I got you a coffee. Willow said you’re a nightmare without some in the morning.”

Your eyes narrow at the man. It’s unfair how delicious he looked so early; while you look like a frizzy mess who rolled out of bed and walked into work (which you did), he looked polished and crisp and clean. It’s infuriating as much as it’s glaringly attractive.

“Thanks,” you mutter as you pick cookie dough off your hands and pull off your plastic sanitary gloves. “Every girl loves hearing she’s a nightmare.”

He chuckles behind his steaming cup and places yours on the workbench next to you.

“Those were her words, of course. I’d never call you a nightmare.”

You easily flush, then chastise yourself for allowing him to make you feel so weak so early in the morning.

“To be fair,” he continues. “I don’t even know your name.”

“___,” you sigh as you grab the coffee and bring it to your lips. “And you?”

“Jimin. Park Jimin.”

The first sip of coffee is like a soothing hug. He somehow knew how you took your coffee—two creams and two sugars.

“I didn’t know how you liked it, so I just guessed.”

“Good guess.”

Jimin smirks and looks proud of his accomplishment.

“You seem like the type of girl who likes balance to her sweetness.”

You stare at him curiously over your own steaming paper cup, unsure of what to make of his comment.

“Good morning to the love of my life!” Comes the voice of your best friend entering through the back door.

You roll your eyes in amusement as she teeters in, peppy and perky as she always is this early.

“Oh! Hi, Jimin.” Her cheeks turn a familiar shade of rose as she realizes he heard her. “I didn’t know you were here yet. That’s just a… thing we say to each other every morning.”

“Cute.” Jimin smirks at you, making your stomach lift with unwanted butterflies. “Where do you want me?”

Underneath you, beside you, above you, any possibly way...

You shake your head quickly to push away the sexual thoughts of the gorgeous man taking you from any position. No, you refuse to let your mind wander there.

Willow finishes washing her hands and putting on her apron before she nods to the fridge.

“If you can get the milk, eggs, and butter out, we’ll use you for creaming.”

Your cheeks heat impossibly as Jimin smirks even wider.

“Oh, I’m fantastic at creaming.”

Your hands pause from where they massage dough while you close your eyes and breathe, before lifting to glare at your best friend who wears a faux-innocent look.

“I’m sure you are, Jimin,” she chimes virtuously, before getting to work.

The next few weeks were a haze. You’re so caught up with graduations, birthdays, weddings and major events that your time spent at the shop overtakes your time sleeping, breathing, existing in any way that isn’t baking.

Even Jimin was busy. Despite your initial hesitancy, he was proving to be an excellent third member of your team. He’s a pro at sales—you’re sure his good looks and the mostly female clientele helps—and he pitches in in the kitchen without fail. He even tries his hand at decorating cakes, with only one frosting-based spill. You would never give Willow the satisfaction of telling her outright, but she made an excellent decision in hiring the dazzling man.

But it doesn’t stop your annoying heart from fluttering every time he comes close to you—rubs elbows as he helps you roll out dough or smiles at you from across the workbench as he stamps out sugar cookies. You refuse to allow yourself any thoughts on what it would taste like to lick dough off his fingers or how he would look bending you over the countertop to take you from behind.

You only allow such thoughts at night, safely tucked into bed with your vibrator cranked to the highest setting.

It doesn’t help that Jimin solidifies himself in your life by introducing his handsome and dopey best friend Jungkook to your gorgeous and clumsy best friend Willow. The moment they laid eyes on each other, you knew you were doomed to have Jimin in your life with or without the bakery.

And you weren’t sure how to handle that notion.

Was Jimin flirting with you simply because you were there? He seemed to have no problem flirting with the customers. Sure, the shop has never made more money than when Jimin works his charms and seduces women of all ages to buy the extra cookies, cannolis, and cakes—not that you watched or glared or hated every second. No, of course not. It was for the good of your business and the angry jealousy demon inside you would need to stay firmly locked away.

Except, it’s on a particularly crowded day at the shop that your jealousy gets the best of you.

You’re up front assisting Jimin by boxing and bagging the treats he rings up.

You know he’s flirtatious, but it’s when he goes the extra mile for an extra pretty girl that you lose your cool on him the moment the customers leave.

“Do you have to eye-fuck every single co-ed that walks in this place?!”

Your hands fly up in frustration, and Jimin watches you with a soft gaze.

His silence and knowing smirk makes you continue.

“Seriously? What the fuck was that about?! You’re acting like you’re about to bend her over right here in front of us! Jesus!”

Willow hears the commotion from the back and comes forward.

“What’s going on here?” She asks suspiciously.

You point towards Jimin who maintains his poised demeanor.

“I’m reminding Jimin that work is not a place to sexually engage our customers!”

Willow rolls her eyes as she pulls her apron off and grabs her coat from the hook.

“Whatever, you’re being ridiculous. Jimin’s never been inappropriate. Plus, he’s making us a fuck-ton of money,” she sighs. “You two can close up without killing each other right?” She eyes you in particular.

You cross your arms and huff, glancing at the clock to find you have two hours still until closing. “Why? Where are you going?”

Willow’s annoyance fades away as if it never existed.

“Jungkook is taking me to the Museum of the Printing Press!”

You can’t help but choke a laugh while she pushes your arm.

“Shush! You know how much I love them! And he totally surprised me with tickets!”

Willow can’t shake that lovesick look in her eyes and your heart melts a little. She’s your best friend and you’re thrilled she’s found someone who wants to indulge her in her nerdy fascinations.

“Go have fun, babe,” you smile sincerely. “We can take care of closing. Now, go fuck on a letterpress or whatever!”

Willow snorts and hugs you tight, bids goodbye to Jimin, and exits the store.

Now that your quick anger is gone, you feel sheepish around the man who has yet to reply to your tirade—but you refuse to stick around under his piercing gaze.

“I’ll be in the back,” you mumble under your breath before slipping into the kitchen before he can get any word in edge wise.

You spend the rest of the evening monologuing an apology as you prep ingredients for the next morning and clean your workstations. The shop is closed, doors locked, and Jimin is somewhere at the front of the house finishing his duties.

“‘Hey, I’m sorry for the way I acted’,” you practice out loud. “Hm—no, not humble enough. ‘Hey Jimin, I was a real bitch’, too degrading? Maybe something like, ‘Hey Chim, can I call you Chim? That was fucked up, wasn’t it? Haha.’ God!” You throw your rag down in a huff, frustrated at your inability to form a decent apology.

“You can call me Chim, if you want,” a voice speaks from behind you.

You squeak in surprise and turn around, clutching your apron in your hands as you find Jimin leaning against a wall with a smirk on his face.

“Only my closest friends call me Chim, but I think we’re close enough.”

You swallow hard and nibble at your lip.

“I’m assuming you heard that whole… thing,” you mumble anxiously. His nod confirms that he heard your entire play-by-play of the apology you would deliver to the handsome man.

“Yeah,” he licks at his lips. “You know, you’re really cute when you’re jealous.”

“J-jealous?” You nearly trip over your own tongue. “I wasn’t—, I’m not jealous!”

Jimin begins a slow approach towards you, striding as he keeps his sparkling eyes on yours.

“Oh?” He quirks his head, making his soft hair fall into his face. You desperately want to push it away, cup his cheek, kiss those ridiculously plump lips.

He can tell you’re staring at this mouth and it makes his smirk turn nearly feral.

“So, you weren’t jealous? Not a single bit?”

He inches closer and you can feel your heart tighten in your chest and your stomach twists in on itself in excitement, in nerves.

“N-no,” you whisper, unconvincingly.

“You didn’t want to be the one I was making eyes at? The one who ‘gets bent over the counter’ as you said?”

“I—,” Jimin cuts your words short as he stands a breath away from you.

“I guess if you weren’t jealous, then I don’t have to tell you you’re the one I really want to bend over the counter.”

You’re sure your heart stops beating—positive that it will fall from its place in your ribs into your feet.

“What?”

Jimin cups a hand to your cheek and smiles as he steps even closer.

“If you’re not jealous, then I don’t have to reassure you you’ve got nothing to be jealous over.”

Your lips run dry, throat parched as if you’ve never had a sip of water. Jimin is standing so close to you you can feel the heat coming off of him in waves.

“Jimin—,” you breathe and he continues forward until he presses you against the countertop and crowding you into the metal and wood.

“Tell me you were jealous.”

You gulp, eyes seeking his for an answer, for any information. Is he playing you? Does he know you’re hopelessly attracted to him? Does he find it humorous to tease you when Willow isn’t here to insert herself into your flirting.

“I was jealous,” you admit slowly. The words are hard to release, but once they do, the floodgates open. “I wanted to be the one you flirted with. I was jealous because I want to be the one you notice.”

Jimin smirks, then pulls your face in quickly for a heated kiss.

His lips are just as plush, just as soft as you imagined. They’re puffy and sweet and he tastes like one of the treacle tarts you made that morning. He must have had one with lunch, and you find yourself addicted to the way he tastes with your creations on him. You wonder what he’d taste like with your arousal coating that tender, plump mouth.

He bites at your own lip and tugs, chucking under his breath as you mewl your desire at the slight hint of pain.

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re angry like that,” he breathes as he presses his forehead to yours. “I nearly popped a boner while you were yelling at me. I could tell you were jealous, and it made me want you more.”

It’s hard to hear him speak so candidly—it makes you groan.

“Jimin—fuck,” you sigh. “I’ve been attracted to you since you walked into this goddamn place.”

He smirks and snags your lips up in another desperate, yet quick, kiss.

“I know. It’s why you didn’t want me to work here.”

You grumble after he pulls away, tired of the teasing and wanting nothing more than to stop talking and start doing.

“I didn’t like you because you assumed I wasn’t the owner.”

He smiles and rubs at your arms, a softer expression crossing his face.

“No, but I hoped you were.”

It’s silent for a moment and you let his words wash over you as he continues.

“I was attracted to your authority. I could tell you were important here somehow, just didn’t know in what way.”

You swallow your growing guilt. You had clocked Jimin entirely wrong.

“Jimin, I’m sorry,” you start.

“Hey, hey, I already heard your apology, remember?” He smiles. “Although, I could think of a great way to mend the wounds if you’re interested. No pressure.”

His soft smile becomes a devilish grin instantly and your body lights with instant arousal.

“What did you have in mind?”

His lips press to yours again and you nearly lose yourself completely in his embrace. Your arms circle his neck and he holds you tight at your waist, before pulling away from you, yet again.

“I happen to be very good at creaming, if you’ll recall.”

You can’t hold back a snort of laughter, that quickly gets covered by Jimin’s hot lips, one’s he will not pull away from you any time soon.

“You want to, right here?” You ask as he trails a hot line down your throat.

“Yeah, do you?”

You vaguely remember Willow’s threat of not fucking in the kitchen, but find you can’t seem to care an ounce.

“Fuck yeah, I do.”

Jimin needs to hear no more. He pulls you close and kisses you with the remaining amounts of pent-up passion and emotion he feels for you. He’s grown to love the way you take charge, the way you move through the building like you own the place—because you do. He loves the power you radiate and wants nothing more than to make you give up that power for a single night, to him.

“You wanna do this… all the way?” He asks, re-assuring himself that he’s not throwing himself at his boss.

“I want you, Jimin. I want you to bend me over this workbench and fuck me until I’m crying for more. Please.”

He grins and lays a hand on your neck, fingers tracing the gentle lines.

“I might not let you boss me around,” he warns.

“Take control.” Your eyes are blazing with need. It makes him smile, and he gives the moment a slight pause.

“Then, get on your knees and show me just how sorry you are for yelling at me.”

You’re sinking to your knees quicker than you can comprehend. Jimin is almost thrown at how instantly you caved and submitted to him. He watches as your eyes stay fixed on his and your hands work at the button of his tight jeans.

“That’s right,” he murmurs. “Right where you belong. No one else.”

You preen—heart warming at the idea that you’re the only one he wants kneeling before him and tugging his cock out of its confines.

It springs forward, and it pulls your gaze from Jimin’s magnetic eyes. It’s long and thick, just like you suspected all those nights with your vibrator stuffed where he should be. Your mouth waters at the sight and you lean towards it to mouth at it gently—pressing soft open-mouth kisses to the tip.

“Oh, shit,” Jimin gasps. Your fiery mouth feels like heaven on his cock. It’s something he’s equally dreamed about—spent many nights fisting his cock to the thought of you.

You take your time, licking tiny stripes around the head and down the shaft, until Jimin becomes weary of the teasing.

“Please, take it all.” His request is so genuine, so needy, that you’re loath to deny him.

He slips into your mouth with ease, slicked up just enough by your trailing kisses that he slides in and hits the back of your throat in seconds. His eyes close as he feels his cock-head hit the back of your throat—a tighter and more constricting feeling in your already impossibly tight mouth. It feels like absolute bliss, and he’s gasping for air after mere moments of you holding him inside your mouth to the hilt.

He doesn’t need to speak; you know what to do. Your mouth works him in and out, tongue swirling around any open real estate of his cock. His moans echo around the tile of the kitchen walls and he’s sure that the sight of you on your knees with his cock disappearing in and out of your mouth will have him cumming in no time.

He steels himself, makes his body behave because he wants to enjoy this and the way you feel. As good as your mouth feels, he’s desperate to know what it’s like to slide into that cunt he’s spent too many nights dreaming about.

“Oh, fuck,” he whines as you make delicious, slurping noises from the gathering saliva. It’s a wet squelching sound that makes him even harder than what he believes is possible—all blood in his head now completely rushed to his dick for his pleasure.

“B-Babe!” He calls as he feels his balls tightening. He doesn’t want to cum, not yet.

He grips your head by the scalp of your hair and pulls you off his cock that is seconds away from losing control.

“Please, I’ve got to fuck you,” he nearly begs.

You wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand and smirk, licking the tip of his cock teasingly before standing up to his full height.

Jimin’s hands fly to your expensive leggings that you insist on wearing to work while he kisses you. The kiss is feverish, frantic. It’s full of tongue and teeth and desperate moaning against each other as he pushes down the pants and delicate panties, and cups your cunt in one hand.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper against his mouth as the pad of his finger slides against your clit.

“You’re fucking soaked. All from sucking my cock?” He’s cocky and sucks a mark onto your neck as he massages the bundle of nerves.

“Don’t be arrogant now,” you warn with a smile.

He presses his tongue to your ear and licks a stripe and chuckles.

“I think you like it when I’m arrogant. Your pussy sure seems to like it.”

He emphasizes his words by slipping two fingers into your channel and fucks into you, scissoring you open. He cuts off any chance for you to retort by launching his lips back to yours and prowling around your mouth with his tongue.

His fingers are small but fill you so deeply, and you’re sure his hand is drenched with your arousal.

“J-Jimin, please,” you gasp as you pull your mouth away to breathe in deep. “Please, just fuck me already.”

He growls into your ear.

“I thought I told you you’re not in charge.”

He spins you easily until your back is pressed to his chest. He grabs the hem of your shirt and lifts, throwing the shirt away and quickly making work of your bra clasps to join the shirt on the floor.

His hands cup your full breasts and you can’t help but whimper at the feeling of his soft and warm hands. He feels so good against the chilled skin of your chest and he tweaks and thumbs your nipples until they stand perky and erect.

“I’ve always wanted to bend you over this counter,” he muses in your ear as he pulls a nipple harshly. It makes you squeak out at the pain, then moan as the pain turns into a sizzling, pleasurable spike that runs through your veins.

“Every time I would catch you staring at me, I just wanted to fuck your cute little throat until you were gagging around me.”

Your eyes close as he continues his abuse on your perky nipples and whispering his deepest thoughts about you.

“I wanted to lift your cute dresses and eat your cunt until you’re wailing loud enough all the customers can hear.”

“Jimin,” you nearly cry. “Please, fuck me.”

You can feel his hardness lining up behind you, rubbing at your sodden folds to cover his length in your slick juices.

“I like it when you beg.”

He kisses at the juncture of your neck before letting his teeth graze over the spot and bites down—right as he pushes your face down to the workbench and slides his cock into your spread heat.

He bottoms out easily. You’re soaking wet and he buries himself to the hilt in one fluid motion. He groans out loud—stunned by the heat and wetness of your pussy and how tight it grips him.

“Oh, holy shit,” he gasps as he gives himself and you a moment. His hands grip at your waist, one hand coming to rub the tender skin of your supple ass.

“Jimin, fuck, you’re so big,” you whine.

He brings his hand up, then slaps it down on your ass hard, hard enough that the crack echoes around the large kitchen. You cry out in delight, in pain, as the reverberation of the stinging wraps around you.

“Fuck, you take me so well, princess,” he whines as he sets a pace. Your ass meets his hips and claps with each thrust, and he punctuates every few pumps into you with another hard slap to your ass. He wants you screaming his name, crying out for him loud enough that the neighbors know who he is.

He’s relentless in his pumps—gripping your hips tight as he fucks you deep and senseless. Your eyes roll back into your head at how well he works your body. Your tits rub raw against the wood of the workbench and you’re weeping fat tears of pleasure as Jimin continues his plight.

“God, I’m gonna cum, baby,” he warns. “Cum on my cock, princess.”

You slide a hand down to your clit, eager to add the ultimate piece to what makes you unravel. He grins and pumps into you harder, slaps your ass repeatedly until he knows it’s going to leave bruises.

“That’s right, baby, rub that pretty little clit,” he urges. “God, I can’t wait until you you sit on my face and let me eat this fucking cunt for hours.”

You blubber a response of desire, nearly begging him for more and more, as you swirl your fingers around the tight bundle. You’re peaking towards the summit of your climax, ascending to a point you’ve never gone before.

“Fuck, Chim!” You scream. “Gonna cum!”

Your warning falls on deaf ears—you’re cumming and pulsating around his thickness instantly and Jimin moans mix with your own to create a symphony of pleasure.

“Good fucking girl,” he coos. “Your cunt is so good to me, baby. Mmph—let’s frost this cake, now.”

Instantly, he’s groaning as he pulls his cock free from the vice-grip of your cunt and jerks himself twice to completion, allowing his hot seed to splatter against the tender flesh of your ass where he’s left a clear print of his hand. The warmth soothes the battered skin and you shake your ass teasingly as he continues to stroke himself through his climax.

“Ohhhhh, my god,” he breathes as he finally comes down from his high.

Your face is resting on the cool surface of the wooden workbench as your breathing slowly settles back to normal.

“That was fucking good,” you whisper with a smile. Jimin bends down to press soft kisses to your spine, before grabbing a towel to gently clean his cum off your beaten ass.

“Willow’s going to kill you for fucking me in the kitchen,” he warns with a laugh as he kisses the same spot he came on.

“It takes two to bake a cake, buddy,” you tease.

He laughs and brings a hand down to your untouched asscheek, making you squeal with delight.

“That’s not how the saying goes, but sure, doll.”

The next morning, you’re hard at work making a five-tiered wedding cake with Willow at your side, when Jimin throws open the door.

“Good morning to the loves of my life!”

Willow chokes on her own air while you hide a giggle behind your cake covered hand.

Jimin approaches the pair of you while she splutters and gasps.

“What?” What happened last night after I left?”

Your cheeks heat and Jimin wears a face of pure cockiness.

“Oh my god,” Willow gasps as her eyes open wide, snapping your tender ass with her rag. “You did NOT fuck in my kitchen!”

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river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years

Text

relationship dynamics

because i felt like it

Birdflash: Their relationship dynamic is like the cutest thing ever. “I’ve noticed that we’ve slowly begun to phase the ‘B’ out of our bromance.” Have done the spiderman kiss and will continue to do the spiderman kiss. SO. MANY. PUNS. They’re CONSTANTLY in a pun war. In a drive thru: “Hey can you tell the guy in the car behind me that he’s cute and I’ll pay for his drink?” “Um….okay sir.” “Your total is $10.59. Also the guy in front of you said, um, he said to tell you that he thinks you’re cute and he’ll pay for your drink.” “*rolls eyes with a fond smile* that’s my husband, he thinks he’s romantic,” but the best part is that it works for either one of them. Birdflash Culture is the word “babe.” If you don’t think they had a bubble machine at their wedding then you’re lying to yourself. Eating junk food whenever and wherever they want,. “Oh my god just get in the fucking blanket fort already.” Where you go, I go. SO MUCH FOOD OH MY GOD ALL THE FOOD SO MUCH FRIGGIN FOOD. Police/crime lab aesthetic bc I have a headcanon that they’ both work with the police department (Dick’s a detective, Wally’s the lead CSI). Photo booth strips. Them being impressed by each other all the time. F R E C K L E S. Stopping halfway through the middle of sex because they just realized something about Star Trek season 3 episode 8 and they really need to pull it up on the tv to make sure they’re right. Re-enacting fight scenes from martial arts movies in the living room of a tiny apartment. Have i mentioned the babe thing because they toss around the word babe all the friggin time, not baby that’s gross, just plain babe along with bro and dude those three are interchangeable. “I called shotgun infinity when I was twelve.” The glass is always half full. Them playing video games at home eating pizza counts as a “date” but also they’ve been doing the same thing for years.

Jayroy: “don’t worry I know what I’m doing” “not even god knows what you’re doing.” Sharing cigarettes. Desperate messy kisses. Constant fast paced insult war that you can’t keep up with if you’re not quick witted enough. “My family had to put up with me but you? You’re the idiot who chose me as a best friend.” pet names galore but like edgy ones not gross sweet ones (my personal favorite is jaybird bc it’s awesome and also canon), very very kinky sex, will murder rapists and drug lords in the most painful way possible without giving a solitary fuck but will go to a nursing home the next morning and be as respectful as possible to the elderly. Tattooossss. Baseball hats. Say “fuck you” as “I love you.” Hair ties everywhere. m u s c l e s.

Timkon: Classic love story. Like, switch one of their genders and you’ve got a old school romance movie in the making. Photo shoots with a pride flag and merch. Pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks. Tim wearing Kon’s clothes to the point where practically his entire wardrobe except for his fancy clothes and red robin suit consists solely of Kon’s stuff. The Neighborhood vibes. Holding hands on a date at the carnival. Pride bracelets and pins. 90s vibes. Kind of the type of Destiel feeling where you can’t really have Destiel without also having Sam being the overenthusiastic shipper/supportive brother? That but with the rest of the Core Four. Polaroid pictures. Gay and Tired. Flannel + Leather + Denim. they go on dates with other people (before they realize they’re in love) and spend the entire time talking about their other half. Skateboards. A high school romance.

Damijon (aged up obviously): constant constant constant bickering and arguing, like we’re surpassing married couple status here. “I’m older” “I’m taller” starts out as a biting insult, falls into teasing joke, then becomes something they say with a mischievous fondness and an inside-joke smile. Country + Pop Taylor swift songs. Wandering together through the city. "Be kind to animals or I’ll kill you.” Sitting on the roof together. Kryptonite blades that Jon trusts no one except Damian to wield. “I hate you” “happy to hear it” turning into another inside joke. Sleepovers. Never growing up. ��I trust you with my life unconditionally but I do not trust you to get my order right remember the time you betrayed me and everything I ever stood for?” “Oh my god dami I forgot the sauce onCE.” Don’t lie to yourself, habibi is totally a thing. Damian wearing Jon’s varsity football jacket over dark colored/black turtleneck shirts. Damian sketching Jon either late at night in the light of the moon or early in the morning by the light of the sun. Classic dark vs Light. Running down the street tugging the other behind you while holding hands. Red converse + Combat boots. TEAMWORK. “Clark, your son is annoying, loud, clumsy, entirely too tall, hopelessly optimistic, and way too naive. I trust him with every cell in my body.”

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fairyoftbz · 3 years

Text

Étoilé | m. kevin

🏵 pairing: bf!Kevin x fem!reader 🏵 genre: fluff, suggestive 🏵 word count: 2.5k 🏵 tw: suggestive themes, a very badly written make-out session in the water 🏵 synopsis: you thought that you’d celebrate your relationship anniversary like every other couple, but Kevin had another plan in mind. 🏵 requested: yes! thank u!! 🏵 a/n: i apologise if it’s cringe or in a rush, i’m still not used to writing this type of thing! i hope it’s any good...

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Today was a special day for you and Kevin. Celebrating your third year together, happiness hadn't left you since you met this young, talented man. You were over the moon (no pun intended) when you first started dating this little ray of sunshine, and you don’t know where you would be or what you would do if he had never appeared in your life. He brought so much positivity in your life that you could only thank him for making you a better person and the happiest girl on earth.

And today was the day to celebrate those beautiful years of common life. Kevin and you had made sure that you were clear of any type of schedule or appointments to make the most of this beautiful day. In addition to that, the weather seemed to be on your side considering the temperature skyrocketing as the hours passed, not a single cloud on the horizon ready to come and ruin your day, none of that. It looked like even the stars were ready to celebrate your anniversary by offering you the warmth necessary.

You had talked about your plans a few days prior, and you were the one to come up with a beautiful idea. Why not going back to the places that were essential throughout your three years of common life?

Kevin instantly agreed with the idea, suggesting places that brought back beautiful memories. You managed to narrow down the places you wanted to visit again to three.

The first place was the coffee shop where you worked as a student with his sister, the one who made this relationship possible by introducing you to him one night during an aperitif at the shop. You remembered how attractive you found him, being a spluttering mess the entire night spent getting to know each other better.

The next spot was the abandoned field a few streets away from your apartment building. As for your second date, he had prepared a picnic and you spent the entire day there, flirting like two teenagers. You played around and joked for a while, Kevin suddenly asking you to kiss him. Wanting to play around and tease him, you only kissed his cheek and scurried away, leaving an offended Kevin behind. After running out of breath while trying to flee from your date chasing you, you fell back on the picnic tablecloth and timidly pecked his lips before pulling away, your boyfriend becoming flustered by your actions, a bit disappointed that it didn’t last any longer.

And the third place was at the beach, where you spent the entire day together, enjoying the ocean and the sun as much as you could. Kevin, being the hopeless romantic that he is, asked you to be his girlfriend as the sun was setting, making the scene unforgettable. You still remembered it, even three years later, gladly telling the story to anyone with a huge smile on your face.

You were so sure to have become the protagonist of a fiction that you had to pinch yourself after he had asked you out, just to make sure that you weren’t hallucinating.

And today, you felt all giddy to back to the same place you went to for your second date. just like the first time, he prepared a nice picnic and messaged you to meet him up at the same spot as a few years prior.

Kevin looked handsome when you arrived, and you were excited to spend the day together. Everything surrounding you was gorgeous, you took a lot of pictures from the scenery and your boyfriend, having fun and flirting like the first time until the sun decided to leave. However, instead of acting cute, Kevin was more teasing, sometimes borderline explicit, just to see the bashful look on your face.

“Stooop, not this loud,” you playfully nudged him in the ribs and he cockily raised his eyebrow, breaking into a laugh.

He swiftly tackled you to the ground and hovered above you, nearing his face to yours while whispering sweet nothings into your ears. You grabbed his face and gently grabbed it away from you to press your lips against his, slowly making out with him.

“So I am not allowed to whisper things to you, but you can kiss me like that?” he said while pulling away, making you giggle as you looked to the side. “You know that there are families around, with children, trying to have a good time together. So try to keep your needs to the bedroom, baby,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes with a huff, knowing that he felt the same as you did.

His teasing grin confirmed what you thought, the light in his eyes changing into something quite different, hotter, needier. With only one look, you understood the other and immediately packed everything, putting away things in a rush, Kevin on your heels as you dashed to the car park of the supermarket nearby. When you were in the car, giggling like a schoolgirl as the exhilaration rushed through your veins, your boyfriend’s hand resting on your thigh as it innocently trailed higher the closer you got from your apartment, breath itching in your throat each time he teased you even more.

Yet, as you were about to take the small street to reach your building, Kevin decided differently by driving right past it, speeding away after taking a sudden turn. Your eyes watched the street sign and you smiled as he started following a route to a well-known spot: the beach.

In the thrill of getting out of the car, you took the untidily folded tablecloth and bolted to the beach, laying it on the sand before happily sitting down between Kevin’s legs. His arms immediately surrounded your waist and his mouth trailed open-mouthed kisses on the skin of your neck, making you shudder at the sensation. Kevin smirked as you were easily affected by his touch, laid hold of your waist to press you further against him.

You smiled and gave a half-suppressed laugh as you pressed your cheek on his shoulder, getting lost in the sensation as you struggled to suppress the moans that were already threatening to spill at the abandoned field. Your boyfriend stopped for a while and you sighed in relief, feeling your heartbeat slowly calming down as he stopped his ardent attack on your neck.

“I have an idea,” Kevin declared, now huskily whispering in your ear. “Yeah?” you replied as his hand gently caressed your thighs up and down. “Do you follow me?” you slightly frowned at his words, turning your body around as you watched him get up. He took off his baseball cap and dropped it on the tablecloth, grabbing the back of his V-neck sweater and took it off before unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt.

“You wanna go in the water?” You stated, observed getting into work, earning a smirk from the man standing in front of you. “Isn’t it a good idea?” Smirking, he threw his shirt at you while biting his lower lip, rolling your eyes at his comment. “The last in the water will do the dishes until September!” he yelled as he was about to take off his jeans, only to watch you spring on your feet and removed your dress, getting ahead of him as you wore fewer items of clothing than him.

He froze for a quick second as he saw the sheer, sexy white lingerie you hid under the fabric of your dress, his distracted eyes allowing you to take the lead and run towards the ocean at full speed. The water was cold but the burning sensation travelling your body didn’t prevent you from entering the ocean. It managed to cool you down instantly as you got water to your stomach, gazing at a defeated Kevin that arrived a few seconds after you.

“That is so unfair,” he said while entering the water, dragging you by the waist in deeper water as you laughed.

With your hands resting on his shoulders, he glanced at you with a smirk tugging on his lips, wrapping your legs around his waist. Hair framed your face in the most gorgeous way, Kevin observing you with admiring eyes, a gentle smile appearing on his face.

“You are gorgeous Y/N. You never told me you were wearing this set though,” he mumbled, without being affected by the small waves, looking at you with a sudden sparkle of lust illuminating his eyes. “Oh. My mistake. I should have undressed in front of everyone at the field to show you,” you murmured with a mocking smile, only to have Kevin roughly grabbing the back of your head to pull you against his mouth, messily kissing your lips as he hungrily held you tight against him.

The hotness of your bodies grinning against the other was almost enough to warm up the entire ocean, his touches lingered in your mind as his hands travelled lower to grab your ass. You hated to admit it, but Kevin only needed to kiss you with all his might to make you melt in a small puddle of love. It was delicious, you couldn’t even deny it, his hands kneading the flesh of your butt cheeks always achieved to make you feel some type of way. Just feeling him against you felt like heaven, pressed chests heaving together as you were about to lose yourself to him.

“Don’t play with me, baby,” he mumbled against your lips before kissing you again with more eagerness this time. You grabbed the shorter hair at the back of his head and tugged on it, Kevin emitting a groan against your lips.

Pulling away, he slowly yet roughly grabbed your lower lip between his teeth, tugging and playing with it as his hands were busy playing with the wet lace underwater, pursing your lips to stifle a whimper.

Lust and arousal filled your eyes as you stared at Kevin, barely keeping them open at the intensity of the emotions you were feeling. He let go of a hand on your ass to come and gently cup your throat, tongue slowly entering your mouth and easily dominating yours as you felt a rush of heat bolting south, a small moan escaping your mouth.

“I’ll never get over how easily you get turned on with just with my hand around your throat,” he chuckled, and you groaned, slightly annoyed at how cocky he sounded.

Kevin acted all smug and playful, but you also knew he was slowly losing his mind at how much he loved and cared for you. The only thing that he wanted to do right now was showing you all the love he had for you, but he also knew that words and actions weren’t going to be enough to even reach how much he loved you.

You wanted to talk back, but he was quick to silence you by trailing his hand to your cheek to cradle it while his mouth went the opposite direction, leaving prominent hickeys on the smaller ones that he gave you on the beach and at the field. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head and your stomach did somersaults at the overwhelming sensation.

“I think that’s enough foreplay. Don’t you think?” you said, and his mouth stretched into a smirk, dying the following second as he kept on taking the right path to send you to cloud nine. “Someone’s quite eager tonight, hm? Let me take care of you, love,” he whispered and disappeared in between your breasts.

[...]

Chests rising and falling against the other, Kevin gave you a quick kiss on the lips and another one on your jaw before walking closer to the shore hand in hand, feeling the exhaustion washing over you. With an arm crossing over your breasts just in case, you picked up the discarded bra on the sand that your boyfriend threw a few moments prior, holding it away from you as it was wet and sandy.

You both quickly paced to your tablecloth, drying yourselves as best as you could as you got dressed again, relieved when you noticed that no one had stolen anything during your little lovemaking session. The adrenaline rushed through your veins as you pulled your dress over your body again, shivering as you felt the lace wet some parts of your dress. Quickly discarding the panties off your legs for some comfort, you glanced at your boyfriend who was rebuttoning his shirt as if nothing happened.

“Naughty girl,” he smirked as he detailed your actions, handing you his V-neck sweater. “I’m not that cold,” you stated but took it anyway, Kevin breaking in a fit of laughter. “Your nipples say otherwise, darling, or it's the thrill of getting freaky in the ocean maybe?” your eyes widened at his boldness, a shocked, playful look painting your face before putting his sweater on. “You perv,” you giggled, and he shook his head, grabbing the panties you were holding and tucked them in his jeans back pocket.

Turning back to the ocean, you looked at the dark blue water, the starry sky and the moon illuminating the small waves and the foam crashing on the sand before vanishing back in the salty water. You sighed and softly smiled, two arms wrapping around your shoulders in a much gentler way than a few moments prior.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?” Kevin whispered in your ear and you lifted a hand to rest it on one of his forearms, enjoying your boyfriend’s hold and warmth surrounding you. The teasing atmosphere had disappeared, getting replaced by something deeper, softer. “Look at the sky, it looks gorgeous,” you whispered as if speaking louder would break the moment. Kevin kissed your cheek, lips lingering on your skin and you smiled, gently turning your head to peck his lips. Everything was slower, gentler, and softer as if your actions in the water were just a great memory. “It is indeed gorgeous, there’s nothing compared to you admiring it,” he whispered, and you smiled, a delicate warmth engulfing your heart in a hug at his cheesy words.

Boy, this man was a flirt, but you adored it. It made you feel like you were still in the chasing part without the doubt of not being this type, and you could stay in this state forever.

“I love you,” you whispered, and Kevin placed himself in front of you, lifting your head with his finger under your chin, admiring your face as pure love adorned his pupils. “I love you too Y/N, to the moon and back. I love you even more than all the stars in the sky tonight. Happy anniversary, love,” he whispered before taking your hand, lifting it to his lips to press a gentle kiss on top.

You shivered at the contact and Kevin drew you closer to him, lips connecting with your forehead before you started to walk back to his car.

He was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

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sortasirius · 4 years

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“Gimme Shelter” and The Bomb

Living in the middle of clown town is always an adventure but they’re recently opened a five star restaurant that’s free to all residents so we’re eatin good lmao.

Wow. Uh. Wow. Lots and lots and lots to unpack here.

This is.........long lmao

I mean. Should we just talk about some of the *cough cough* married details we’ve got going on? That picture of Cas from “Tombstone”? Who took that? Who else COULD have taken that? Why is it a printed photo that Cas just happens to have? Why did it look like it was cut in half?

Okay, I also want to talk about the energy between Dean and Cas, and not the energy of two intensely married people. We haven’t seen them together that much since 15x09 right? I mean we’ve had bits here and there, but to me something still feels off. I just can’t help but go back to the unresolved ending of their time in Purgatory (”I have to say something.” “You don’t have to say it, I heard your prayer.”). It just feels like there’s awkwardness hanging in the air, like when Dean and Sam leave right when Cas gets back, or the way that Dean hangs up on him. It feels like we’re supposed to be sus, which I most definitely am. Things aren’t 100% fixed, even though they’d like us to believe that they are.

Baby man Jack? “Marvelous Marvin the talking teddy, I have one!”

Also just,

“Can we wear matching ties?!”

“Yeah, blue’s a good color on you.”

I CRY.

I think it’s FASCINATING that Rowena is spending her time in Hell making things “boring” for demons, changing things. “People will end up where they belong.” There is NO WAY that’s throwaway.

“Hello! Where can I find the Kool Aid.”

Literal king.

There are a lot of ~parallels~ in this episode, a whole lot of callbacks, and not in the jokey oh hey remember that episode. There are all very deliberate and coded carefully into the dialogue so that even people who watch casually and pay attention will pick up on them.

“We...dated. Years ago, sort of. More like we watched a lot of old movies together.”

Ok.

Which, nbd, same exact fucking episode as

Come on guys. Just like. Come on. Davy. My man.

Good to point out too that Davy Perez also wrote “Tombstone.”

I just want to take a second and appreciate that we at got this Amara this season. No weird drama between her and Dean, just a literal badass who knows she’s a badass. Dabb and co are going to save every poorly written character before this is over.

Cas’ fucking speech y’all.

“I do know what blind faith is. I used to just follow orders without question, and I did some pretty terrible things. I would never look beyond the plan. And then of course when it all came crashing down, I found myself lost. I didn’t know what my purpose was anymore. And then one day something changed, something amazing. I...I guess I found a family. And I became a father. And in that, I rediscovered my faith. And I rediscovered who I am.”

First of all, we deserved to see this from Cas. We deserve to hear him talk about how much he’s grown, how much he’s changed from the “soldier” in season 4.

Cas found who he was with Jack, with Sam, with Dean. He found out he was a Winchester. His love for others is so palpable this episode, the way he mother hens around Jack, the way he looks at Dean, I just completely adore him, and I loved being able to see him reflect on his own growth.

Okay, moving along to Amara and Dean’s convo...fuck man. F U C K.

Dean’s pain in this scene. His pain over Mary, over the lack of choice. It’s so palpable, and I don’t think anything could have prepared me for Amara’s answer to his “Why?”

“I wanted two things for you, Dean. I wanted you to see that your mother was just a person. That the myth that you’d held on to for so long of a better life, a life where she’d lived was just that. Myth. I wanted you to see that the real, complicated Mary was better than your childhood dream because she was real. That now is always better than then. That you could finally start to accept your life.”

“Hm. And the second thing?”

“I thought having her back would release you. Put that fire out. Your anger. But I guess we both know I failed at that.”

His anger.

His anger through the whole season.

His inability to let go of the anger.

Dean’s anger, his inability to let go, we now know, of course, that his happiness didn’t come from Mary. He still had the fire, he still couldn’t let go of the anger, the rage. So what is it? Not even Amara knows what will bring him peace, she just knows that her solution failed.

And then, as if we needed more parallels to this season:

“I’m furious. To learn that all my life I’ve been nothing but a hamster in a wheel, stuck in a story.”

If that line sounded familiar to you. It’s because it is.

It’s not a common phrase, especially since Davy Perez FILLED this episode with callbacks. We’re in the endgame, nothing is unimportant.

For Dean to bring this line back up, right after Amara tells him that she thought that Mary would bring him peace, that she was wrong in that assumption. For that line to get brought back up when Dean talks about his anger in that scene with Cas, right in the middle of their breakup, where the whole catalyst of his prayer is about his anger, how he can’t let go of his anger. How he’s sorry he got so angry at Cas.

Bruh.

And then, as if all of this wasn’t enough. Jack drops the twist. That he has to die to kill Chuck and Amara.

It’s his own version of the empty deal. That isn’t a mistake. Both are going to come into play, Jack’s deal and Cas’. Mirrors of each other.

Putting his hand on Cas’ shoulder, telling him his death is not Cas’ choice, but his own. I think this, this scene is going to come back into play.

And then to end the episode with Cas telling Dean, telling him about Jack’s death.

“In case something goes wrong and I don’t make it back, there’s something you and Sam need to know.”

So...our fluff episodes are over.

There’s so much in this episode, but what I think bears repeating at the end is Dean’s anger, what will bring him peace, Jack’s impending death, and Cas’ deal. All of these are going to be our catalysts moving forward. Dean’s anger arc isn’t over, just as Cas’ deal hasn’t been resolved. Next week ~seems~ like it’ll be a fluff episode, but I am certain that it won’t be. There’s gotta be some big to do about what Cas is going to tell Dean.

Idk what to tell y’all other than the volume inside of this clown car is astronomical.

#supernatural #spoilers #spn 15x15 #spn #my meta #destiel

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Headcanons for Friends to Lovers with Rodrick Heffley

Rodrick Heffley x reader

warnings: mentions of a bad home life

a/n: YALL I FUVKING DID IT AND IM TERRIFIED OF THE REPERCUSSIONS

prompt: y/n and rodrick have been friends for a long time, so long boundaries seem to be blurred

you’ve actually known rodrick since elementary school

it all started when he asked you to join his band

“i can play drums, you can play the tambourine because that’s the only other instrument i have! it’ll be wicked!”

your band lasted a week and only had one gig, it was for rodrick’s parents

who LOVED you by the way

they somehow permitted you to sleepover almost every other day, you practically lived at their house

FOR YEARS you did this

terrorizing lil greg

“what’s he gonna do, pee his diaper?”

“rodrick!!!”

always trick or treating together, exchanging candy when you got back go his house (or occasionally yours)

you guys didnt like hanging at your house, your parents were kind of....a lot to handle

starting middle school together, wreaking havoc on all the teachers

rodrick did it to impress you, according to mr. and mrs. heffley

but he’d give you a stupid little smirk from across the classroom after he got scolded so you believed them

whenever anyone gave you shit at school, rodrick wouldn’t hesitate to step in and show them who’s boss

“rodrick, you’re gonna get detention again!”

“yeah, well, i’m not gonna let them be mean to you”

you went to his house after school most days, sometimes you’d get there first while he was in detention

mrs. heffley had after school snacks

“y/n, why don’t you play some video games with greg while you wait for rodrick to get home?”

playing wii sports with greg, who cried when you won

you also had time to do homework while you waited, rodrick usually copied afterwards

when rodrick came home, he’d drag you to the garage to show you his drum skills

he hit himself in the head with his drumstick

“ooh, that’s gonna leave a mark”

next step was high school, which was a weird step up

but you guys had each other

you still spent most nights at the heffley residence, but you had to sleep on the couch instead of on the floor in the attic (aka rodricks lair)

“you two are growing up, so we think it’s best that you don’t sleep in the same room together, right?”

rodrick emptied one of his drawers for you to put your clothes in

but you still end up stealing his clothes half the time

“i wish i could be mad, but you wear all of my clothes better than me”

subconsciously doing couple-y things without realizing it

like rodrick would pull you closer to him when you two were together, put his arm around you, give you his jacket, etc

“are you guys serious? you’ve got to be dating!” -everyone

“rodrick, when are you and y/n going to get together?” -mr. and mrs. heffley

the answer was always the same: “we’re just friendssssss”

watching his band practice and cheering him on no matter what

you’re his guest vocals ☺️

when he got the van, it was a whole new world for you guys

you could go out wherever whenever

(with parent approval usually)

“wanna go ride around for a little while? hit a gas station and get a bunch of candy?”

“do you even have to ask?”

watching scary movies in his room

“platonic” cuddling in his bed

stuffing your face in the crook of his neck during scary scenes

“come on, y/n! it’s not that bad!”

him having to hold onto you for comfort so you’d keep watching with him

sometimes falling asleep together and his mom or dad coming to check on you later

“alright, time for bed! y/n, you get your usual couch...”

laughing your ass off at rodrick when he messes with greg

manny loves you, sometimes rodrick is jealous of the attention you give to his baby brother instead of him

rodrick scooping you up in his arms when you least expect it, never fails to make you scream

“hey there, hot stuff”

“you’re impossible!”

roller skating together, he held your hand the whole time bc he was worried you’d fall

his friends ENDLESSLY taunt him over your relationship

when he makes plans with others, he always says “let me ask y/n first” which just SENDS his friends oh my god

“dude, that’s your s/o!”

“no, they’re not! shut up!”

hating being apart a lot its so stressful

sometimes you’d have a pretty hard time at home and show up to his house at odd hours, but you were always welcome

you have your own key

“hey, what’s wrong?”

“my parents...they’re just the worst”

rodrick knows its bad when you start crying

he took you up to his room and played some music (quietly as not to wake the house)

you laid on top of him while he rubbed your back and told you that he was there for you

dozing off on him, as per usual

dude, the amount of pictures you have? astronomical

you playing his drums, the two of you going 🤘, an actual nice picture of you guys, him carrying you on his back, kiddos on your first day of school by year, you kissing his cheek “platonically”

comforting him when he was having his own hard times, whether it be an argument with his parents/greg, difficulties with musical inspiration, or anything else

“come here, you need a hug”

“i need several”

“you’ll get ‘em”

talent show! talent show! talent show!

you completely cussed out the rest of his band before they went on bc they had the audacity to replace him

but greg managed to save the day

“greg, my dude, give me a high five, that was awesome”

he wasn’t actually half bad but like, his mom kinda stole the show

more joyrides in the van

absolutely BLASTING the music in there while you and rodrick sat on the floor in the back and ate the taco bell you’d just picked up

“dude, you gotta try my potato griller, it’s a godsend”

“okay, but try this slushie, its so good. i mean, not as good as a 7-eleven slushie, but it’s up there”

finishing your food and laying in the van for another hour bc you just loved each other’s company

but after sitting together alone for so long, you felt like there was something left to do, what was it?

you and rodrick were moving around a bunch and ended up next to each other sitting against the wall of the van

you looked over at each other and hesitated before leaning in to kiss

and you guys kissed for a while

okay, so, you made out on the floor of his van with led zeppelin playing in the background

✨magical✨

it wasn’t awkward or anything, just long overdue

okay it was a little awkward actually

“well, that was” *clears throat* “that was cool or whatever”

“yeah...wanna do it again?”

“oh, for sure”

not like it was a surprise to anyone when you announced you were FINALLY dating

“wait, you guys just started dating? i thought you’d been together for like, at least 5 years” -mr. heffley

“this is great! obviously, we’ll need to set up some boundaries so that everyone is comfortable and safe, but yay for young love!” -mrs. heffley

“gross” -greg

mrs. heffley wrote a column in the newspaper about you titled “my teenage son’s fantastic significant other”

not much changed after you and rodrick got together, just kissing, “i love you’s” and more teasing from friends and school faculty

“we were all rooting for you two, actually!” -the teachers

summer vacation with him

it was always SWEET

going to the pool together, he’d usually lay out on the chairs with you but you were able to drag him into the pool a few times

“come onnnn, it’ll be funnnn”

“you’re lucky you’re cute”

hugs from behind!!! kisses on the top of ur head!!!!

PROM AH HAH HAH

seeing rodrick in a tux was too funny for you, you almost couldn’t stop laughing (especially at the eyeliner he insisted on wearing)

but he just couldn’t stop staring at you

“rodrick!”

“what?! you’re stunning!”

honestly, prom wasn’t all it was cracked up to be

you danced like maniacs for a few songs and ended up ditching early on

but you did end up renting a bunch of movies and getting tonssss of snacks and changing into pajamas as soon as you got to his house

im talking popcorn, candy bars, ice cream, cans of pop, chips, chicken nuggets and so on

and also passing out on each other

“i think i love you a little more, i didn’t know that was possible”

“i have that effect on people”

he makes u breakfast before his mom gets the chance though

“pancakes? for me?”

“i put chocolate chips in them too, you’re gonna love them”

(they were a lil bit burned, still good tho)

you guys really did just spot on get each other

okay but i know you also roast each other sometimes so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

relationship goals, honestly

fresh outta ideas 🤠 goodnight

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley imagine #doawk #doawk x reader #doawk imagine #diary of a wimpy kid #diary of a wimpy kid x reader #diary of a wimpy kid imagine #devon bostick #devon bostick x reader #devon bostick imagine

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hyuckssunchip · 3 years

Text

More Than Enough

Pairings: Doyoung x Reader, ft. Johnny, Taeyong

Words: 2.6K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), angst to fluff

Synopsis:

Y/N and Doyoung have a fight over a misunderstanding and many things go awry. Will Doyoung and Y/N overcome this argument?

You always get the same rush as you step into the venue, no matter how many times you come; the busy bustle and organized chaos felt almost reassuring. The first fans had already been packed in tight, each one eager to catch a glimpse of their idols, the rest slowly pushing their way in. But you had the best view, you always got the best view, you thought as your eyes flitted around backstage searching for a specific pair of warm eyes.

When your own eyes locked with his, an unconscious smile broke out on your face. But before you could move towards him, he was swept away by his hairstylist, for yet another ‘final’ check up. Your shoulders dropped with a sigh and you turned around to look for a spot to wait, but were blindsided by a black haired man.

“Are you supposed to be back here?” He asked, eyeing you up and down. You could see where he would think that, you weren’t wearing a badge or anything and to be honest looked a bit sketchy wandering around aimlessly.

You smiled at him warmly, hoping to win him over, you didn’t want to go through the hassle of explaining and having to get Doyoung here to account for you. “Yeah, I’m… a friend of one of the members. Are you new here? I come all the time, I’m surprised we haven’t met yet. I’m Y/N.” You said as sweetly as possible, hoping to weasel your way out of the situation.

“No we haven’t met before. I think that you need to leave, before you cause a scene or put anyone in danger. We can’t have crazy people back here. ” He said, taking an aggressive step towards you in order to take you out of the vicinity.

“No, wait, I really am! I can explain. I’ll call him over now, just let me-”

“Hey, Y/N.” A voice interrupted you, making both you and the security guard freeze as an arm wrapped around your shoulder.

You slowly looked up to see a familiar face as you sighed with relief, pulling your arm out of the guard’s grip.

“Johnny, I thought you were still getting changed. They said everyone was getting ready.” You said with a puzzled look on your face.

“I finished up early,” he said, shrugging and then turned back to the guard to flash him a smile.

“Oh, is this your friend? I’m sorry I didn’t know.” He said, biting back his words before bowing deeply to both you and Johnny. Soon after he ran out the door, back to his station.

“Thanks,” you said to Johnny, “Doyoung would have hated it if I had to call him out here to explain again. He lets me know every time it happens. You know, you’d think by how annoyed he gets he would have gotten me a pass or a badge by now.” You ranted a bit to Johnny, still frustrated that this is such a routine thing when you come to their shows.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have one made up for you. If you had let me know sooner I would’ve gotten you one earlier.” He said smiling down at you, arm still wrapped around your shoulder. “Hey, did you know there was food in the other waiting room? Are you hungry? We could grab some while you wait for Doyoung to finish.”

You nod back at him with a smile, you’re always up for food. The two of you headed to the back room chatting noisily.

Doyoung stood in the doorway, hidden out of view, watching the whole thing. Not only did he see his hyung’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, the two of you smiling at each other as if Doyoung wasn’t even in the picture, but he also heard the latter part of your conversation.

He felt thorns of jealousy build in his stomach and scratch at his throat before they made it to his head. He couldn’t think straight with the image of you two burned in the back of his mind, and it drove him crazy as he stomped towards the room the two of you had just entered.

He was furious and he had no idea what he was about to do, and what it would do to the two of you.

You jumped a little, startled by the sudden grip on your shoulder, but soon relaxed the moment you realized it was Doyoung.

“Oh, you’re done already? I thought it would be longer-” he interrupted you with a scowl.

“W-what’s going on? Is everything okay?” You were used to the cute and goofy Doyoung, not this guy who looks terrifying.

“What was that!?” He hissed at you under his breath.

“What are you talking about?” You nervously asked, Doyoung was acting so strange and you had never seen him like this.

“Oh so running your hands up and down Johnny is normal!?” He whisper-yelled starting to get increasingly louder.

“I was not! He helped me out of a situation, that’s it! You know I would never do that to you, especially with him.” You said defending yourself. What he had seen was just a misunderstanding, but by seeing the look on his face you didn’t think that he would just let it go.

“Oh really? Because by the looks of how much you two were flirting this obviously wasn’t the first time!” His voice reaching a pitch that started to draw attention.

“Stop it! People are starting to look, let’s just take this somewhere else.” You hissed at him, attempting to pull him out of the room.

“No! You’re not denying it! So it’s true, god you are unbelievable!” He said, shouting and running his hands through his hair.

You had given up at this point, patience running low you shouted right back at him, “What is me denying it going to do!? You won’t believe me any way! And now we’ve just made a huge scene.” You threw your hands up and started for the door.

“Yeah! Walk away! I never liked it when you come anyway! You’re just in the way and following me around like some lost puppy that always needs my attention. Just leave!” He screamed at your back making you pause in the doorway.

Your breath caught in the back of your throat and you could feel the familiar sting rise up, tears threatening to fall, but you refused to let them. You let out a shaky breath and shook your head, without looking back you walked out to the sitting room that you would normally watch from and sank into a seat.

As soon as you fell you could feel the walls and any strength you had break down, the tears ran down your face and had no intention of stopping them. Is that what he really thought? About everything? That you were cheating on him, that he never even wanted you here, that you were attention-seeking? You covered your face with your hands, bawling your eyes out, a little too preoccupied to notice Doyoung watching as he made his way to the stage. The moment he saw you his face fell and contorted into a wince, immediately wanting to comfort you. But the moment was gone and he was rushed on to stage.

For the entirety of the song his mind was not on the performance. While he didn’t mess up, he wasn’t his best. He worried constantly about you and the minute he was let off stage for a wardrobe change he rushed to find you, only to be welcomed with an empty seat.

He was frantic, fearful that you had taken his words to heart and really left. He asked around and found an answer that he didn’t want. Exhausted and defeated he sank into a chair and buried is head in his hands. A hand came down on his back and rubbed it in a comforting manner. Doyoung’s eyes opened and he recognized the shoes before lifting his head to confront the member.

“Look, I don’t know what the misunderstanding was with Y/N, but you two will get through it.” Johnny said cautiously, having an inkling that it was partially about him. “I can try to clear anything up if it will help.”

Doyoung’s face was halfway between a glare and heartbroken expression. “Yeah, why were you two all over each other earlier?”

“When?” Johnny thought back trying to remember a moment that might have been misconstrued.

“You had your arm wrapped around her and were talking about how annoyed and fed up she was with me. Is that what you two do? Just talk shit about me?” He said, starting to get worked up again.

“Doyoung, calm down. That is not at all what happened. The security guard was trying to kick her out because she didn’t have a badge and I just came in to help. I didn’t realise that you don’t like it when I put my arm on her shoulder. I guess I’m just used to doing that with her, she’s like a little sister to me, you know? I’ll stop if you don’t like it.” Johnny calmly explained.

“So you two aren’t seeing each other behind my back?” Doyoung faltered.

“No, not romantically at least. Our relationship is strictly platonic Doyoung, I swear.” He assured with a smile.

Doyoung cocked his head, not liking the thought of them seeing each other without him, even if it was just platonic.

“So-”

“No, we don’t talk shit about you when we hang out. We have more interesting things to talk about.” Johnny interrupted with a small grin.

In return Doyoung gave a teasing glare before breaking out a small smile. “Okay, good. I’m sorry for making a scene earlier, I just lost my head when I saw you guys together.”

“That’s okay. But I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” Johnny gave him a sad smile before leaving to go get his hair and make up retouched.

Almost instantly Doyoung’s face fell.

“On in five! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

He was rushed on stage for the next song, his mind not quite there.

On stage he looked over the crowd, a tight smile pulled on his face. He wanted to be happy for his fans, he wanted to show them everything he could, but it was getting hard to focus again.

An arm was thrown over his shoulders, swaying him back and forth forcing his movement to follow.

“Don’t worry about it too much. You guys will be fine.” Johnny yelled into his ear, far from his mic. He pulled back and gave a nod before running off to chase Haechan.

“Right. It’ll be fine.” But he faltered as he recognized a blue shirt in the crowd.

“Y/N?”

He was already too out of it and searching for a clearer view in the crowd didn’t help his concentration.

He missed his cue.

While Taeil picked up the slack, Doyoung was overwhelmed with embarrassment as his face morphed into a bright red.

He was frustrated beyond belief and he could feel the burn in his throat choke him. The performance quickly ended and he was rushed into the black SUV that would bring him home. He hadn’t bothered to shower or wipe off the stage makeup, only tearing off the outfit for the sake of the stylists, he couldn’t disappoint them too.

He was a disappointment, to his fans, to you, to himself. He couldn’t even hold a performance without screwing up and looking like a fool in front of his fans. They came all this way for a show that they could remember and what did they get? A rookie that forgot he was on stage. He groaned banging his head against the back of the headrest.

He was a disappointment to you. He attacked you and let you down when he should’ve been there for you. He groaned again.

What a disappointment.

“Doyoung? Can you stop that?” Taeyong asked from the seat next to him.

“No.”

“You’re going to hurt yourself. What would the fans do if they found out you got hurt? What would Y/N do? She’d be worried sick, don’t do that to her.” Taeyong said softly, staring straight ahead.

Johnny had confided in Taeyong about the situation between himself and you. Taeyong wasn’t proud of the way that Doyoung acted, in fact he wanted to scold him, but how could he when he could see how much Doyoung was beating himself up over it.

He leaned against the window, staring at the streaks of lights that they passed.

“Just go home, shower and rest up, okay? Things will be fine. I promise.” Taeyong assured him.

Doyoung just let out a sigh.

The door closed shut softly, Doyoung was hoping that you were here. And in the chance that you were, he was not going to wake you.

After setting his bag down and taking off his shoes he turned towards the kitchen but froze instead. He took in a sharp breath.

You were sleeping on the couch, curled up in a ball, used tissues scattered below you. His heart dropped and he felt guilt take over him.

He made his way into the seat next to you and wrapped his arm around your back, pulling you into his embrace. He smiled sadly when you snuggled yourself deeper into his chest.

“How did it go?” You mumbled, startling him.

“You’re up?”

He felt you nod against his body.

“Terribly.”

“Why?” You frowned, sure you were mad at him, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to feel bad about his performance.

“Cause you weren’t there.” He gripped you tighter, resting his face on top of your head. “And I messed up. I forgot my lines.”

You heard the waver in his voice and knew that he was taking it rough.

“I’m sure they loved it anyways baby. You don’t have to be perfect all the time you know. Your fans love you for you and that’s why they go, the perfect performance is just a bonus.”

You moved your head to make eye contact with him. “You’re more than good enough. Don’t ever tell yourself that you’re not. Okay?”

He smiled, “How did I get so lucky?”

You gave him a peck on the lips, “I’m the lucky one.”

“No really, I totally made a scene and said some really horrible things and here you are comforting me. I should be on my knees begging for your forgiveness.”

“I’d like to see that.” You hummed re-situating yourself in his arms so that you could give him a good look.

“I’m sorry. Johnny and I talked about everything. I feel horrible the way that I reacted, I should’ve never accused you and talked to you that way. I didn’t mean a single word of it. I just got jealous and exploded.”

“So you don’t hate it when I go to your shows?”

“No! I would die if you stopped showing up. I was a total wreck today knowing that you left. And I shouldn’t neglect you like that. I promise I’ll get a special badge for you and I’ll show every guard your picture and say that they’ll get fired if they ever try to make you leave. You know what I’ll fire them if they ever let you leave. You’re not allowed to leave without me. Okay?”

You laughed at his apology. “Okay.”

He smiled, closing his eyes feeling peaceful once again.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

He flashed you a gummy smile before bringing your head into his chest again.

“You stink.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah.”

“How does a bath sound?”

“Wonderful.”

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midasinc · 3 years

Note

do u have any eposette hcs?

modern era eposette hcs:

- the timeline of their relationship is agonizing for ep. she likes cosette pre-marius, then during the marius timeline she gets super jealous and she figures that it's because she likes marius. that isn't really the case and she comes to realize this and after cosette breaks up with marius because she's realizes she's a lesbian, eponine is so psyched because this is her opening! it's her! it's always been h-

-cosette dates a lot of other girls because figuring out that eponine likes her. she doesn't say anything about it but after a few weeks, she can picture herself dating eponine. they have good chemistry and eponine is a lot shorter than her and is funnier than she gives herself credit for and cosette decides to ask her out (eponine almost faints because it comes out of nowhere)

-they're a very active couple. they like going out to do stuff, neither of them can sit still and quiet during movies. they like walks in the park and bike rides through the city or in the countryside. cosette is a professional ballerina but she loves all forms of dance and takes eponine out to dance all the time. sometimes it's in a club, but they literally go to salsa classes together because it makes them both giggle and it's really fucking fun once they get a rhythm together

-cosette intakes coffee like a garbage disposal. she drinks so much fucking coffee. eponine sometimes wonder what her budget for it is, but she doesn't mind because cosette's clothes always smell like coffee and she'll make a mug for eponine every morning without being asked first

-they're both bracelet people. eponine wears so many bracelets. she loves the beaded kind and the braided kind and little rubber band bracelets you get from your dentist. she's made so many bracelets for cosette oh my god. eponine has spent so many hours braiding her pretty bracelets and finding the right beads to spell out "cosette". cosette loves ALL of them. gifts mean a lot to her because sometimes she still isnt sure if she deserves these presents and she is so incredibly thankful for them. when she isn't dancing at work, cosette wears just as many bracelets as eponine

-eponine also goes to all of cosette's performances. this is weird at first because valjean does the same thing and the tickets cosette gets for them are next to each other for obvious reasons. it's a weird dynamic at first. eponine is kind of like "uhhhhhhhhhhhh" because she doesn't know if he knows when they first start dating. and trust me he does. cosette tells valjean everything and she told him about eponine the second they started going out. after the performance, valjean tells cosette that eponine seems like a very nice young woman

-eponine is incredibly anxious when it comes to money. it really worries her. she dropped out of college because she couldn't afford it anymore without going into debt and the idea of winding up like her father horrified her, so she works two jobs and is also a dog-walker. even when she's in a green zone with her income, she has trouble feeling like she can buy the stuff she wants. a lot of her clothes are thrifted and hand-me-downs from friends and even after she moves in with cosette and they have breathing room money-wise, eponine is still incredibly anxious

-cosette doesn't want her to feel worried about their money but has trouble convincing her that it's okay. she talks to valjean for advice and decides to invest in a financial advisor for the both of them. having someone professional to talk to about their finances really helps settle eponine- she's learning to be conscious of their money but not paranoid

-cosette is really big on bday celebrations because valjean celebrated her own birthday like it was a national holiday, and eponine gets the same treatment. every year, cosette will be like "GUESS WHOSE BIRTHDAY IT ALMOST IS!!!!!" the entire week leading up to eponine's birthday. she always home-bakes a cake as well and eponine begs her not to buy a lot of gifts, so cosette compromises by taking her out to do something really really really nice and then getting her one small gift that is always very personal and meaningful to eponine

-eponine is a night owl and cosette is an early bird. cosette wakes up super early for work every day and presses a kiss to eponine's forehead and eponine smiles when she finally goes to bed and cosette is sprawled across the bed absolutely conked out

-eponine is big shirt small pants combo and cosette is tiny shirt big pants combo

-cosette is really good at braiding hair. whenever eponine walks into a meeting with very pretty very intricate hairstyles, everyone knows she didn't do it herself

-ballet has given cosette very very strong thighs... whenever she wears shorts... oh my god... eponine is put out of commission. it's too much for her

-they dress up like catra and adora from she-ra every year for halloween

#loves #bae asf #les mis #les miserables #modern era #modern au #les mis headcanons #relationship headcanons #lesbian + bicon pairing? yeah <3 #eposette #eponine #cosette #cosette fauchelevent

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wherethewordsare · 3 years

Text

Sweater Weather- Mutual Pining for Jay’s 400 Follower Bingo!!

He’d found it after a movie night, draped over the back of the couch. He held it up to confirm and yep. There was no mistaking the hood and the bulky black sleeves. It looked like it may have gone through the dryer about twelve times too many and the zipper pull was barely hanging on. He let his thumb rub against the hem of the sleeve, shaking his head. Jaskier tucked the hoodie under his arm as he pulled out his phone, smiling to himself.

geralt

u left ur hoodie

its cold and everything how do u forget that

ur worse than ciri smh

Just hold onto it, I’ll grab it next time.

And I am not worse than Ciri. I’m not the one who’s left his phone in the Denny’s bathroom at 2am…. Twice…

Last month.

shhhhh :P

Throwing his phone down, Jaskier went to his closet. He was going to just hang up the hoodie and Geralt would get it eventually. Honestly, he was going to put it away. But then he pressed his face into the shoulder and sighed.

This was wrong. He should just hang it up and return it when they saw each other again. He wasn’t about to let this silly little infatuation with Geralt ruin a perfectly good friendship. Especially not over a stupid hoodie.

Unfortunately, Jaskier's self restraint had taken the night off. Before he could stop himself, Jaskier was sliding his arms in, zipping up the front and crawling into bed. One night of indulging wasn’t going to hurt anyone. Even if it felt like his chest was splitting open. He shifted a little under the covers, burying his nose into the collar as he drifted off to sleep. They had been through so much together since they met in high school, wasn’t Jaskier allowed this one little thing, just this once?

-o-O-o-

i still have ur hoodie

u want it back cause we could like meet up for coffee

we could go to the nag :)

He snapped a picture of the hoodie and a travel mug in his passenger seat, sending it off.

Can’t today. :(

Parent teacher meetings and then Dad wants us to help him fix the roof.

I could use my hoodie today, it’s cold…

omgl finally

thought id have to do it

Jask… no.

:/ fine then

see if i try to be helpful again

jk jk

dont die

I dont wanna do handywork :3

Geralt had been right. It was cold, and Jaskier had forgotten his own jacket at home. He frowned down at the hoodie and sighed. It was only because it was chilly. Nothing else. He tried to ignore how it still smelled so strongly of Geralt. He walked around the gallery wrapped in Geralt’s hoodie, the front unzipped and his hands buried in the sleeves.

-o-O-o-

hehe crispy leaf time

the cold is coming

Yes, Jaskier. That’s how seasons work

u know what that means~

Geralt did not in fact, know what that meant but he soon found out. He was in the middle of typing when a picture came up with the caption “stolen hoodie weather :3” with Jaskier curled up on his couch at home, snuggled up in the black zip up hoodie Geralt only remembered leaving there early last Spring.

Something in his stomach flipped and he looked around to make sure no one was watching him. Why? Why would it matter if someone saw him? It was just Jaskier.

He frowned and started typing again. He stopped and erased it, fighting down the small smile that was starting to tilt the corners of his mouth.

You kept it?

Way to go, Geralt. That was really fucking smooth. What was he supposed to mean by that?

unlike u :(((

abandoner of hoodies

some of us appreciate the gift of comfort geralt

Geralt felt like his brain was melting. That thing in his stomach seemed to purr with satisfaction at the idea of Jaskier wearing his hoodie. It was petty and ridiculous and oh no, Geralt couldn't take his eyes off the way the black material framed Jaskier's collarbone.

No. No no. This way lay madness, he told himself. He would simply get the hoodie back and that was that.

hey when do u wanna do our next movie night

its been like

7099039 years

Geralt hesitated for a moment. He had never hesitated when it came to Jaskier. They had known each other for far too long.

Sure. My turn to pick?

not if u choose a history documentary

Spy movie?

:0 promise?

yes pls

Should I bring wine?

Wait, no that would be a very bad idea.

:) you know it

bring the good shit

eskels secret one

i know you can find it

It’s called “google” Jaskier. Even I know that. And I will see what I can do.

same time and place as normal right

It’s a date.

Geralt felt as though his soul had left his body when he had hit send. Had he lost his entire mind? He was in the middle of typing a follow up, trying to word the best way to dismiss his complete and total departure from sanity when the little dots popped up then disappeared then popped up again.

It’s a date. :)

Jaskier nearly slammed the door back into Geralt’s face in shock. Geralt was standing in the hall, bottle of wine in one hand, movie and carry out in the other. Then there was the shirt. Jaskier had actually helped him pick it out. The black button up, the sleeves rolled up and was his hair actually combed back? He looked good. Jaskier swallowed hard. He looked really damn good.

But that wasn’t even the weird part. No, the weird part was the way Geralt’s eyes widened when he had opened the door. He recovered quickly though, nodding at Jaskier as he stepped in.

“Didn’t think you’d let the apartment be cold enough you’d need to wear a hoodie.” He smirked, setting the bag down on the table before going right into the kitchen.

“Comfort, Geralt. I’m telling you, I just don’t think you appreciate it enough.” Jaskier followed him in. It was routine for them, the way Geralt got the wine open, Jaskier grabbed plates and silverware; the way they bickered and snarked, barely suppressing laughs through barbs.

-o-O-o-

The coffee table was littered with cartons of orange chicken and fried noodles. Geralt set his plate down as he leaned back, slinging his arm across the back of the couch. He had to smile at the sense of deja vu that struck him. Casino Royale wasn’t just a comfort movie for them. It had been their first movie night nearly fifteen years ago.

By now, they could practically quote the entire thing, make quips at Bond’s smugness and only just sit through that one scene without wincing. At least that’s what they told themselves.

Now they watched as Bond and Vesper reconnect outside of that fancy English rehab center. Jaskier chorused him as they both rolled their eyes and sighed at Bond’s shitty lines about little fingers.

“God he’s the worst.” Jaskier took a sip of wine, making a gagging sound.

“Quantum still exists.” he chuckled.

“Valid!” Jaskier set his wine down.

Geralt leaned over as Bond delivered his next line, syncing his tone and dropping into a soft gravelly murmur.

“Whatever I am, I’m yours.” It was supposed to be cheesy and ridiculous but Geralt found that it felt far too honest. There was truth to them that he couldn’t think to deny now.

Jaskier nearly choked as he looked up, his eyes going wide. Geralt watched as he leaned into his personal space. Time felt like it stuttered to a halt in that moment, Jaskier inches from him, still draped in his hoodie. Geralt wet his lips anxiously. The tension between them felt like a powerline pulled too tight; everything seemed to crackle with it.

“Geralt-”

Whatever he was going to say was lost the second Geralt closed the distance, pressing his mouth to Jaskier’s. It was nearly magnetic and there was no pulling away. Geralt’s hands strayed down to Jaskier’s thighs without his realizing it. There was no way he could stop himself now. He’d wanted this for far too long to just let it go. Part of him would mourn the loss of his oldest friendship, but that was Tomorrow Geralt’s problem.

Jaskier’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer as Geralt tugged Jaskier into his lap clumsily.

Geralt had to break the kiss first, pulling back gasping for air and pressing their foreheads together.

“Jask… Wait. Wait,” Geralt choked. He had to tilt his head back to get his words out as Jaskier dipped back in to start kissing him again. “Shit. Jaskier…” He already sounded wrecked to his own ears. His hands were on Jaskier’s hips, thumbs rubbing soft circles against his sides as he looked up, eyes searching. “Are you sure you want this?”

He needed to hear it. He needed to know he was allowed to have this. It was one thing to say it would be Tomorrow Geralt’s problem, but it was another to actively throw away the best friendship he had ever had. He had spent too long pretending they could be just friends for it to fall apart like this.

Jaskier crowded in closer and it took everything in him not to just give in to it because fuck that felt amazing. There was an easy smile across his lips that made Geralt feel like he was starving.

“Geralt, I swear to the gods, don’t you dare start questioning this now,” as open as his face was, his voice trembled slightly. It was then that Geralt realized that Jaskier was practically vibrating under his palms. It was instinct the way he wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s middle, pulling him closer. “I’ve been wanting this for at least a solid decade.”

Geralt blinked hard as he gaped up at Jaskier.

“Are you really that surprised, Geralt?” Jaskier hummed, leaning back down and pressing a surprisingly chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Hmm. Maybe not.” He found himself chuckling, trying to breathe around the bubble of light that was threatening to fill his entire chest. He caught Jaskier’s mouth again, his hand coming up to slide into his hair, holding him close.

It was hard to tell who had deepened the kiss further but the laughter died on his tongue when he felt Jaskier roll his hips down into his lap. Suddenly everything was too much and achingly not enough. The hoodie slipped down Jaskier’s shoulders and what little attention span Geralt had left zeroed into that same spot along Jaskier’s collarbone.

Pulling Jaskier closer, he made a trail of graceless open mouthed kisses along his jaw and down the firm column of his neck, his teeth raking over the spot with careless abandon. He was rewarded with a soft keen and Jaskier squirming in his arms. Long dexterous fingers wound into his hair, cradling his head as his own found their way up the back of Jaskier’s shirt.

“Geralt-” There was a tug in his hair and fuck shit yes. He must have made some kind of noise because he felt Jaskier chuckle fondly. “Geralt, as much as I am enjoying this,” he gasped, back arching as Geralt nipped just below his ear, “Bedroom. Now.”

There was no arguing with that tone nor could he bring himself to find anything to argue about. Geralt tilted his head back up, Jaskier’s lips crushing in against his, taking every last remaining shred of doubt away. He felt his body switch to autopilot as he scooped Jaskier up from under his thighs, pleased at the way his legs wrapped around him automatically. He carried him easily, stopping only for a moment to pin Jaskier to the wall to adjust his grip under him, long enough to flick the lights off.

Jaskier snorted, pulling away. “So considerate.” He teased. Geralt gave him a playful swat on his thigh and the chuckling was cut off by one of those delicious keening noises.

Geralt half stumbled, half marched to where he knew Jaskier’s bedroom to be, blindly pushing the door open with his foot. He let himself bask in the heat of Jaskier’s body pressed to his, taking his bottom lip and biting it.

The reality of where he was came crashing down on him and time was doing that thing again, slowing down as someone else with his hands kneeled against the side of the bed, letting them both tumble back into ridiculously lavish sheets. Years of habitual teasing were only tamped down by Jaskier’s insistent fingers making quick work of the buttons on the front of Geralt’s shirt.

“You just had to wear this one, didn’t you.” Apparently not everyone was so distracted not to tease. “Do you know how hard it was not to just pull you into my apartment and kiss that ridiculous face of yours?”

Geralt gave a wry smile. “Do you know how hard it’s been for fifteen years, being your best friend and thinking I would never get to kiss that beautiful face of yours?”

He had to bite the inside of his lip as Jaskier’s whole face and neck flushed brilliant pink in the low light.

“Geralt!” he practically whined and Geralt couldn’t stop from laughing softly at that, bending back down to kiss him again. He decided he couldn’t help himself, not really.

This was too good. If he could just bottle this moment and tuck it away for every rainy day for the rest of his life, he would.

“I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you now.” Geralt hummed happily. He shifted, the hand under Jaskier’s thigh moving to tug his hips flush with Geralt’s as his other hand moved to cup his face. “As long as you’re okay with that.”

Geralt was pretty sure they were too far gone to ever go back, but even now, he had to make sure.

“Geralt Roger Eric…” Jaskier groused. “If you do not come back down here and kiss-” his words were muffled by Geralt’s mouth, his tongue sliding over Jaskier’s bottom lip and swallowing whatever ridiculous threats may have been lobbed at him.

He found that kissing Jaskier had been easier than breathing. Before he knew it, Geralt was pulling back to pull off his shirt but his hands froze. He cursed under what breath he had left because the view of Jaskier under him, lips kiss bruised and shining, the needy look in his eyes, and the way his hair was pushed in every direction nearly undid Geralt completely.

He snapped back to work, stripping out of his shirt and pushing at his jeans, letting them slide away.

“C'mere you gorgeous thing.” Geralt murmured softly, pulling Jaskier to him before rolling, his back pressed up against the headboard.

Jaskier shimmied out of his own jeans before straddling Geralt’s thighs, letting his fingers trail up the planes of Geralt’s chest, a stray fingernail grazing over his nipple, making him groan. Jaskier only grinned, leaning in, and nipping at Geralt’s neck.

All Geralt could do was groan and tilt his head back, his hands sliding over Jaskier’s back. He was just aware enough to realize when Jaskier started to work his way down his body. Looking down, he watched in complete awe as nimble fingers hooked into his boxers.

The first touch of Jaskier’s mouth to the jut of Geralt’s hip had his blood singing and he could only drop his head back against the wall. He hadn’t realized how achingly hard he was until Jaskier was biting down gently on Geralt’s upper thigh making him jump.

There was a low chuckle from somewhere around his groin and then there was a sharp tug on his boxers. Jaskier wasted no time getting a hand around Geralt’s cock while he still playfully nipped at Geralt’s hip and thigh and abs. This was how he was going to die, he thought absently as he let his hand move to the back of Jaskier’s head. He let his fingers tangle there, tugging gently and Jaskier seemed to get the message though he could feel the smirk against his inner thigh.

The weight of Jaskier between his thighs, one hand sliding up Geralt’s torso as the other stroked him lightly left Geralt breathless, his eyes fluttering at every touch. But it was when Jaskier wrapped his mouth around the head of his cock that Geralt felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin. He bucked his hips instinctively into the hot slick of Jaskier’s mouth before he could stop himself.

For long moments, all Geralt could do was hold on. Jaskier took him slowly, seeming to savor the newly found ground between them as he bobbed further and further until Geralt was nudging the back of his throat. He gasped, his back arching when Jaskier swallowed around him, his responding hum a little too self satisfied.

Geralt tightened his grip in Jaskier’s hair only slightly, tugging him up. It was messy and Jaskier’s mouth was open and slick, his eyes glazed slightly with a need that left Geralt breathless. He looked debauched and it was honestly the most beautiful thing Geralt had ever seen.

“Fuck,” he groaned pulling Jaskier back into his lap, his hips stuttering to grind up against Jaskier’s thigh.

Jaskier pressed in close, panting slightly as he broke a kiss that had been more teeth than anything, leaning his forehead to Geralt’s. “Mm, fuck. We- Ah,” He chuckled as Geralt dipped in to kiss him again, dodging away gracefully. “Geralt, I need-” he licked his lips , taking a shaky breath. “Want you to-”

Geralt was already nodding. He would agree to anything Jaskier asked for but the way his hips ground down against Geralt’s lap, it wasn’t hard to fill in the blanks. He wrapped a strong arm around Jaskier’s middle, rolling them gently until Jaskier was under him his knees still bracketed around Geralt’s thighs as he arched and keened.

“Under the notebook in the-” Jaskier breathed his hands not leaving Geralt’s skin for a moment, fingers greedily mapping out the lines of his back.

“I know, you haven’t changed your hiding place since college,” Geralt teased. To his surprise Jaskier snorted under him, his head tilting back in the pillows as he laughed. It left the column of his neck exposed to Geralt and he couldn’t help himself but lean down and bite small marks into it. He was rewarded by more delicious noises endlessly streaming from Jaskier.

He pulled away only for the time it would take to retrieve the lube before sliding back down into Jaskier’s arms and kissing him thoroughly. His hands traveled down Jaskier’s bare chest, his fingers brushing along the top of his boxers and he gave a low huff into Jaskier’s mouth.

“Why are these still on?” he grumbled, smirking when Jaskier rolled his eyes at him.

“Someone’s been slacking in getting me undressed,” Jaskier shot back.

TheirThere next kiss was a mess of chuckles and grins. Geralt shifted them again, moving to get Jaskier’s boxers down. The laughter died in Jaskier’s throat when Geralt’s fingers brushed low down his back and grazed over the swell of his ass, he buried his face into Geralt’s neck. Geralt didn’t tease for long before pulling away. It made Jaskier groan and nip at his neck until slick fingers returned to his entrance, circling slowly.

“Fuck!” Jaskier moaned, his hips already rocking back greedily.

Geralt quietly cursed himself for letting so much time get away from him as he slowly worked Jaskier open, enjoying the way he shivered and babbled under him with every push of his fingers. When he slipped a third finger in, Jaskier bucked under him, his eyes slamming shut as he gave a shout.

“Geralt! Fuck, dear heart, please, for the love of all that is good-” he pleaded, his hips rocking back onto Geralt’s fingers eagerly. “If you don’t fuck me soon I’m going to combust.”

Geralt leaned down, muffling the rest of the curses that were probably coming with a hard kiss. Jaskier arched under him as he pulled his hands away. It was easy after that, letting their bodies slot together and letting himself slide into Jaskier’s tight warmth. It felt like a gut punch. It felt like coming home.

Jaskier wound his legs around his waist, hands reaching up to thread into Geralt’s hair as he rolled his hips, taking Geralt deeper, causing them both to groan.

“Jask.” Geralt pressed his face to Jaskier’s shoulder panting as he started a steady pace. Soon only the sound of their heavy breathing and Jaskier’s soft moans filled the room around them.

Time around them seemed to hold still as Jaskier tugged gently on Geralt’s hair, prying him away from his shoulder to look him in the eyes. The look Geralt found there left the world spinning. Jaskier’s eyes were bright and his smile warm even as his cheeks flushed. He was pliant and open and completely wrecked and the sight of him tugged at Geralt’s chest. The words came tumbling out before he could stop himself, his hips slowly rolling into Jaskier as they moved.

“I love you, Julek,” he murmured as he kissed him slowly.

Jaskier whined under him, his fingers tightening in Geralt’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer. When they finally broke apart to gasp for air, Jaskier's eyes were searching his as he bit his lip around a low moan. He huffed a wet sounding laugh as a hand slid from Geralt’s hair to rest on his cheek, a well calloused thumb tracing along his chin. “Oh, dear heart,” he shifted, canting his hips to make Geralt move. The angle shifted and Geralt seemed to nudge right against where Jaskier needed him most as he arched from the mattress and groaned.

Geralt pushed up to sit, pulling Jaskier up with him until he was in his lap. They rocked together, shuddering every time Geralt bottomed out. He gripped Jaskier’s hip tightly with one hand as his other slid between them, wrapping around Jaskier’s cock. Jaskier pushed up into his hand, swaying between his grip and his cock, they both seemed drunk on it. It was only a matter of time after that that Jaskier was crying out, Geralt’s name tumbling from his lips, his orgasm tearing through him like a whirlwind and Geralt could do nothing but hold onto him.

Geralt steadied him, his hand holding Jaskier still as he thrust up into him, reveling in the small fucked out noises Jaskier whimpered into his neck before he too was shaking apart, spilling into Jaskier with a low satisfied rumble.

They kissed again, lazy and sated, their chests a mess with Jaskier’s spend. He broke the kiss first, pulling back with that smile that always left Geralt feeling dazed.

“I love you, too. I love-” he didn’t get to finish because Geralt was pressing him down into the mattress again with a hard kiss, smiling.

He was allowed. Everything that had happened seemed to catch up with him but instead of the sheer panic he had been expecting, the only thing that wrapped around him in that moment was the bright light that was Jaskier’s answering laugh.

Everything was sore but in that pleasant kind of way after a good lay. Jaskier rolled over, pressing his nose into the pillow beside him. He smiled when he realized it still smelled like Geralt.

Geralt. Fuck!

His hand reached out before he let himself open his eyes, wincing against the bright morning light that streamed in through his windows. The space beside him was empty.

But… Geralt had said it first? Where-? Jaskier’s heart sank, his throat tightening. He knew it was too good to be true. The moment Geralt had kissed him on the couch, he had pushed down every part of him that had screamed that he was going to end up hurt by time the sun came.

He reached for his phone though he didn’t know who he was going to text. Essi wouldn’t even be awake yet on a Saturday. The space by his lamp was also empty. He realized he must have left his phone in the living room the night before when-

He tried not to think about how easily Geralt had lifted him up and carried him to bed. He had tried not to think about how there were now bruises on his hips that were shaped like Geralt’s hands or the trail of stinging bites that he would have to carry around his empty apartment for days. He pressed the heals of his hands to his eyes and groaned.

“Idiot,” he berated himself.

“Cause you left your phone in the living room and now it’s dead?” Geralt asked, pushing the door open with his foot. He was in a pair of Jaskier’s sweatpants and nothing else carrying in two cups of coffee. He looked up from where he had been concentrating, trying not to spill them. “What?”

“You’re here,” Jaskier chuckled. Something in his chest lifted and he let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

“I… yes?” Geralt looked around. There was a lovely mark in the shape of Jaskier’s mouth on his shoulder and it made Jaskier’s toes curl. Geralt looked at the space beside Jaskier then at his face. He made a little oh with his mouth before he started to shake his head. “Oh! I see, hmm.” He set the coffee down gently on the side table and slid back into bed and into Jaskier’s arms. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“So we’re…” Jaskier looked away, rubbing his palms over his covered thighs. “We’re okay?” He didn’t dare hope. Not just yet. Not in the bright light of day.

“Well, that depends,” Geralt chuckled, pulling him into his lap easily. He leaned in and kissed Jaskier’s chin. “Yenn messaged. Something about brunch. I think they know. Are you okay with that?”

Jaskier snorted, leaning over to grab his coffee. “Essi. I told her it was just movie night. I tell her it’s just movie night every time and-” He realized what he was saying, the cup of coffee hovering just at his lips. He looked sideways at Geralt who was tilting his head and smirking.

“The biggest gossip we know and that’s the one you decide to confide in?” He took the cup from Jaskier’s hands and set it down again before rolling them both to pin Jaskier under him.

Jaskier squawked indignity, his arms wrapping around Geralt. He let himself be kissed and hummed happily when Geralt slotted easily back between his thighs.

“We’re going to be late for brunch,” he sighed as Geralt’s hand slipped down to his thigh, fingers brushing gently over the marks from the night before.

“Hmm, don’t care.”

They ended up missing brunch altogether but neither seemed to mind.

---

The weather was crisp and dry and Jaskier was bundled in the black hoodie, but now pressed against Geralt’s side as they walked into Magnolia’s. It had been easier than Geralt was expecting though he groaned as he watched several fairly large wads of cash exchange hands.

“Pay up, Jask,” Essi grinned.

“What?” Geralt turned, scowling. Jaskier gave a chagrined shrug as he handed over money. “So little faith?” Geralt teased.

“You too, pretty boy!” Lambert smirked across the table.

Jaskier gasped beside him, leaning away “So little faith, Geralt?” The sleeves of the hoodie fell over his wrists and Geralt only smiled, pulling him back against his side.

“I don’t mind being wrong this time.”

#geraskier #modern au #fluff and smut #friends to lovers #jays 400 follower celebration #jay writes #mind the tags on this one yall #it's spicy #and soft

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