#I could literally talk about this all night but probably shouldn't | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kyuuppi · 2 years

Text

How they react when you're jealous

Ft. Wanderer (Scaramouche); Xiao; Zhongli; Childe; Venti; Albedo; Tighnari

(gender neutral reader but Childe refers to them as "princess"/"prince" once)

⭐ Wanderer

+ This man is actually insufferable, good-fucking-luck

+ He acts so smug 'cause of course you'd be jealous, he's revered and worshipped by the masses!! (he's not)

+ Will probably cockily tell you you'll just have to get used to it, he's a god afterall so it's expected that he'll have many loyal fans all vying for his attention—

+ It's all a farce

+ In reality, he's kind of in shock that you'd really be jealous over him, the useless puppet discarded by his own mother—but that's his unresolved insecurity and mommy issues talking

+ He'll keep up the façade and tease you for a while until he realizes you're genuinely upset—then he'll find some roundabout way to tell you that you have nothing to worry about, he only has eyes for you...of course he'll never directly admit that, though

"Hah, you're jealous? What a foolish human emotion—of course I'll be adored by thousands..."

The Wanderer cuts himself off as he takes in your tense form, brows furrowed and eyes looking anywhere but him as you quietly seethe. His chest clenches in that weird way it only seems to do when you're involved.

"Wait...don't tell me you're actually angry...?"

You don't show any signs you even heard his question and the Wanderer sighs dramatically, averting his own gaze to hide his reddening cheeks as he mumbles his next words.

"You have nothing to worry about, idiot...you're way above any of those other weaklings anyway."

⭐ Xiao

+ I'm sorry but he literally is incapable of understanding that you're jealous

+ Like...he can barely even process that you like him, let alone recognize the advances of another random human who is interested in him. The time he even spends with others is extremely limited unless you're involved so there aren't many chances for anyone to talk to him

+ If it's something like another adepti or half-adepti, like Ganyu, who he's been spending a lot more time with lately training, you might feel insecure by your own mortality, which Xiao can somewhat understand but still doesn't get the jealousy part

+ Tries his best to try to comfort you though, even if it means shyly asking Zhongli or Verr Goldet

+ Surprisingly ends up coming to the best solution—spending more time with you

You nearly jump out of your skin when you turn to find the figure of your boyfriend standing behind you on the balcony of Wangshu Inn. You're certain he wasn't there just five minutes ago.

"Huh? Shouldn't you be training Ganyu today...?" You ask, feeling slightly sick at the mention of the pretty half-adeptus girl. She was a sweetheart and a great friend but you can't help but to think about how much time she's been spending with Xiao. You're sure she doesn't have any ulterior motives but you can't help but to think about how much prettier and stronger she is compared to you. Surely Xiao sees it too...

"We agreed to take a break for today," Xiao immediately answers, slowly stepping forward until his cheat is nearly touching the back of your arm, so close you can smell the faint traces of his natural scent—something fresh and crisp like the mountain air.

"Instead...I want to spend some time with you—if you'll allow it." He says softly. You momentarily freeze, not used to Xiao initiating dates. Unperturbed, he continues speaking.

"I thought we could do that mortal activity you told me about before. I think it was called...a picnic?"

⭐ Zhongli

+ The god who has ruled over humans for over 2,000 years—of course he's familiar with such a common emotion like jealousy. Even if he himself has yet to experience it

+ He would never assume you were jealous unless you openly tell him about it

+ But then he's quick to assuage your worries and maybe even propose some sort of compromise that can satisfy you both

+ Spends a night absolutely spoiling you until you hardly remember you were ever jealous in the first place, if that's what you so desire

"Ah, it seems you may have misunderstood my relationship with the funeral director, I apologize if I caused you any discomfort," Zhongli tells you earnestly, gently holding your hands in his own, much larger ones and holding your gaze so intensely you find it impossible to look away.

"Now tell me, my dear, how may I settle your worries? Perhaps we should take some time away, just the two of us?"

⭐ Childe

+ Idk how you even got jealous in the first place cause this man is glued to your hip

+ Slightly flattered when he recognizes your signs of jealousy cause he just sees it as proof of how much you care about him

+ It may feel a bit demeaning at first but he will not take your jealousy seriously. He baby talks, pinches your cheeks, and teases you but will not show any genuine concern—not because he doesn't care about your feelings, but because he's so sure that he only has eyes for you that he thinks your jealously is completely unreasonable in the first place

+ As a big fan of PDA, he takes the advantage to be more touchy and affectionate with you in public under the guise of "showing everyone he's yours"

+ If anything, he's the one whose always jealous when another person takes so much as a second of your attention—but you don't need to know that

"Aww, is my prince/ss pouting now? Ahaha, don't look at me like that!" Childe effortlessly dodges the elbow you aim at his ribs after he pinches at the fat of your cheek for the third time today.

Not perturbed in the least, Childe sticks himself to your side and continues to grin down at you, uncaring of the strangers who glance at you two with strange looks as you make your way through the busy streets of Liyur Harbor.

"Here, how about I make it up to you and we go on a lunch date? My treat!"

⭐ Venti

+ Another one who doesn't take your concerns seriously

+ However, unlike most of the other men, it's pretty reasonable to be jealous with how Venti talks to everyone

+ He's naturally romantic and seems to possess no clear boundaries, leading to him saying things that could be construed as flirtatious without him even realizing it

+ When he's tipsy on dandelion wine, it's not unusual to see him belting out ballads and serenading anyone nearby willing to give him the time of day—though, in reality, his love songs are all actually written about you

"Oh, my windblume is feeling a bit jealous?"

You don't bother providing a response but Venti doesn't seem to need one.

"Ehehe, so cute," he coos, shamelessly wrapping his arms around you. Any feelings of jealousy you hold are quickly being replaced with embarrassment at how other patrons in the crowded bar frequently glance at you and your loud boyfriend.

"No worries, my love, this poor bard's heart only beats for you! I'll even prove it with this song I wrote..."

⭐ Albedo

+ It's Sucrose, isn't it?

+ They spend all those hours locked up in a small lab room in the depths of Dragonspine—its only natural that you'd feel suspicious right?

+ Wrong

+ When he's not with you, Albedo literally only thinks about his experiemnts or drawing. In fact, the times you and Albedo are together are really the only time anyone ever sees Albedo actually listen to someone outside of the Knights of Favonius and talk about things that aren't directly related to alchemy

+ As the so-called "chalk prince," it's not that uncommon for people to find him physically attractive and try their luck—but any deeper feelings usually vanish when they realize he has no interest in them. That and his blank stares can get rather unsettling...

+ If you do get jealous about Albedo being around anyone, it will eventually go away on its own as you realize this man is literally incapable of recognizing flirting

+ (Also, Sucrose is literally an angel and would never jeopardize your relationship. Like, she actively ships you guys together, pls—)

"...which is a particularly unique property for this chemical given it's electronegativity. In fact—oh, [Name], what are you doing here?"

You try very hard not to laugh at the relieved expression the woman Albedo was previously lecturing shoots you. She wastes no time slipping out of the lab while Albedo is distracted, his ocean deep eyes staring at you with a mix of surprise and quiet adoration.

"Ah, it's about lunch time and I don't have any commissions today so I thought we could go get something to eat together. Sorry if I'm disturbing you—"

"Not at all," Albedo interrupts, quickly putting away the glass vial he previously held and removing his latex gloves.

"A visit from you is never a disturbance," Albedo admits plainly, oblivious to the way his words make your chest squeeze.

"Now let's go. If we hurry, we might be able to make it to that place you like before they get crowded."

⭐ Tighnari

+ Lmao what are you jealous of, a flower?

+ This is another Science Man™️ who literally sees nothing but his work. Unless there's a rare sentient species of seductive mushrooms in Sumeru with it's sights set on fennec fox boys, you have nothing to worry about

+ Collei sees him as something akin to an older brother figure and Tighnari is too sassy for anyone else to get close unless they're interested in joining the forest watchers

+ If you tell him you're jealous, he's probably going to call you an idiot for even thinking he's interested in anyone else

Tighnari looks almost annoyed at your confession, glancing up from his journal only to shoot you a glare.

"Hah? Did you accidentally eat some hallucinogenic mushrooms again? I don't have enough time entertain things like that. What a ridiculous accusation."

Annoyance bubbles up inside you but, before you can act on it, Tighnari is already standing from his desk, striding over to you quickly to gently pull you along with him.

"Now come with me. I found an interesting flower on the outskirts of camp I think you'd like."

The proud grin highlighted by the sparkle in his eyes as he looks up at you quickly cuts off any protests you were going to make.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #albedo x reader #Tighnari x reader #venti x reader #childe x reader #genshin scenario #genshin imagine #genshin hcs #genshin fluff

13K notes · View notes

acescavern · 5 months

Text

Lay Your Hands On Me x Mingi x Reader x Yunho

When you’re left alone over easter break, your two hot neighbors convince you to join them for their lake house getaway. Only, you didn’t realize the topic of conversation would be surrounding your dry sex life on the very first night. After a tense encounter at 3am, you decide to try and see how long it will be until they break.

Pairing: Yunho x fem!reader x Mingi.

Genre: Smut. basically pwp ish. i'm not entirely sure if there even is a plot to this anymore. not proof read

wc: 6.5k woops?

Warnings: NO member shipping, threesome, poorly written smut, best friends yungi, yungi are your neighbors, reader gets left out by her friends, mingi and yunho are horndogs, big dick!Yunho, Rough mingi, i feel like Mingi was kinda soft Dom, there's a thigh spank or two, unprotected (wrap it up!), cream pie, talks about readers sex life, overstimulation, multiple orgasms ( f receiving ), pussy eating, slight stomach bulge, the reader is a tease. Mingi calls reader Dollface, and Yunho calls her Angel.

note: Hey! I haven't written a full-fledged fic in a while. I feel like I've repeated so many words in this. I hope you still enjoy it, though! these two men have been WRECKING me. Did anyone catch the coachella live stream? I literally died

ps. I wrote this whilst listening to if u think I'm pretty by artemas

Any feedback is greatly appreciated! What was your favorite part?

I do not permit for my work to be copied, published on other websites and blogs or translated.

Your shoulders slumped once your roommate’s car finally left your peripheral vision. All of your friends had found something to do, somewhere to go and have fun, over the Easter break. It left you sitting in an empty apartment, listening to the sounds of the heating and water pipes creaking or even your upstairs neighbour's loud exhilarating activities.

You were excited at first, the prospect of having the place to yourself.. but the fear of missing out finally set deep into your bones when your friends had decided to meet up with each other during their trips whilst you sat at home alone with nothing but the walls to talk to.

With a dejected sigh, you pulled your thin cardigan further around you and turned to head back inside. You knew you probably looked miserable to any passerby, but you couldn't find it in you to care.

You startled when a pair of firm hands settled on your shoulders, halting your mopey shuffling down the hallway. “____?”

Your eyes rose from the floor, settling on the worried features of your neighbor. The corners of your lips twitched into a sorry excuse of a smile, hand lifting to wave at him. You didn't trust your voice. You always made a fool out of yourself around Yunho and his roommate.

“What are you still doing here? I just saw your friends leave from the window, shouldn't you be with them?” His brows were creased, his expression drawn in confusion.

Yunho’s fingers were absentmindedly pressing your shoulders as he bent his head to read your face. You knew the sting of your eyes meant tears, but you blinked them away and shook your head.

“I'm.. “ You swallowed thickly. “I'm by myself this break.” Your chest hurts just admitting it. “I wasn't invited.”

You weren't sure that Yunho's expression could even be sour, being the sweet and polite man he is, but it did. A flash of irritation crossed his brown eyes. Your heart leapt into your mouth when his hands moved from your shoulders to cup your face, your own wide eyes staring back at him. “and you're gonna be okay?”

You knew Yunho meant nothing by it, but his touch was warm and safe. You fought the flutter of your eyelids, willing yourself not to lean into his touch. Your head bobbed in a slightly restricted nod, Yunho pulling his hands away.

“I guess. I'll just… clean, I guess.. laundry...” You weren't hiding how low you felt over the whole situation. Your voice held no enthusiasm, no life.

Yunho pursed his lips in thought, giving a quiet nod and letting you be on your way. He watched with a frown, your shoulders slumped and head hung low. Your eyes had lost the spark today that Yunho found one of his favourite things about you.

Instead of making his way down to the car to check if they had everything, Yunho went back into the apartment he shared with Mingi. The younger male looked up at him in confusion from the couch.

“What did you forget? Yunho, I swear if you just walked to the car and back again I–” Mingi was swiftly cut off by Yunho perching on the coffee table in front of him.

“What if ____ joined us at the lake house?”

It’d been half an hour since you were left to your own devices. Half an hour of mindlessly flicking through the TV channels with disinterest. You were almost grateful for the continuous knocking on your door… until you weren't, and it wasn't seeming to go away.

Opening the door only a slither, you came face to face with your other neighbor. Mingi. His dark hair is messy and damp as if he'd just showered. Judging by the enticing scent of spiced apples coming from him, he had. “Yes?” You raised an eyebrow at him, his expression locked in a grin.

“Pack a bag. Bring a swimsuit.” He said simply, causing you to stand solid in front of him for at least a good thirty seconds as he looked at you expectantly.

“Mingi wha–” Mingi cut you off, his hand cupping your shoulders to turn your body back into your apartment.

“Yunho wants to get there before midnight. Hurry up.”

That was exactly how you found yourself sitting in front of a warm fire a little before midnight with a marshmallow on a stick, your neighbors both sipping beers as they too toasted their treats.

“I did not look that miserable!”

“You did! You looked like someone kicked your puppy!” Yunho laughed, recalling your wounded look in the hallway just a mere three hours ago.

Mingi reached over, his ringed hand patting your knee. “You're cute when you sulk, ____.” His hand retracted all too soon, fingers curling back around the beer bottle to lift it to his lips again.

You'd long finished your beer. You all were only having one tonight anyway. You'd discovered after you had gotten here that the duo planned on staying a week at least.

After your complaints and confusion were worn off, you were grateful. Anything was better than listening to your thoughts for two weeks whilst you had the apartment to yourself. You were also glad that none of the perishable food you had stocked would go to waste. It would save the three of you having to live off gas station sandwiches before you could get groceries for the week.

You had never realized how relaxed the two best friends were away from the university. Around the campus, Mingi's expression was always pulled into a stressful pout. The crease between his brows was always begging for your thumb to just gently smooth it out. Yunho's shoulders were permanently tense. In fact, his whole body was. There were many times you felt like you'd run into a literal brick wall, but it had just been Yunho in the halls.

To see them both lounged back in the plastic outdoor chairs, beers in hand, and smiles on their faces was nice to see. Your soft spot for the two handsome best friends only grew tenfold.

“So,” Mingi set his beer bottle down, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Why were you alone?” he peered at you in curiosity.

“Didn't we go through this?” Your head tilted to the side, eyes moving to the side to send a puzzled look into Yunho's way.

Mingi shakes his head, pausing a moment. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip as he thought about how to voice his curiosity.

Mingi cleared his throat. “No, I mean…You had the whole apartment to yourself..” He trailed off.

He sighed, seeing your brows crinkled further in confusion. “Okay?...”

“He's asking why you didn't have anyone over.” Yunho cut in, his tone slightly exasperated with Mingi's cryptic questions.

“Oh.” The statement had your shoulders straightening in surprise, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks. “Uhm.. I don't have anyone.” Your gaze tore away from his own, glueing to the marshmallow you’d plucked from the bag next to you.

You busied yourself with stabbing it with the stick as a prolonged silence carried across the warm fire. It wasn’t that you detested the idea of having company. It was more a case of…well. Most men gave you the biggest ick. Nearly all men you’d ever come across had given you the ick, and it only took you until now to realize that Yunho and Mingi had never given you that feeling.

You would be blind to miss how handsome they both are and the fact that both of them were genuinely nice guys. That just made the icing on the cake. The cake that you wanted, you’d wanted for a long while. You hadn’t made it obvious. You’d never made a move on either of them. Why would you? You knew who good guys like them go for. They go for bad girls they think they can fix. They didn’t go for girls like you. Little did you know, you couldn’t be more wrong.

When you did look up, both Yunho and Mingi’s concentration was fixed on you. Mingi’s left eyebrow raised as if to challenge your answer. “What?” Your tone grew slightly defensive.

“____, The walls between our apartments are very thin.” Yunho trailed off, looking sideways at his best friend when your clueless expression grew.

“So…?”

“So, we hear things. Everything. Specifically, I hear things... Through my bedroom wall on the other side of yours.” Mingi continued on, relief flooding him when your face broke out into a laugh, a cute red hueing your complexion.

“That isn’t my room, Mingi.” You covered your mouth to try and keep your humorous spurt of laughter at bay. “My room is on the other side of Yunho’s.” You took a bite of marshmallow.

“Wait…” Yunho murmured, his expression thoughtful. “So, you’re the culprit of the fake moaning after your roommate's birthday party last month?” His revelation had you choking on the sweet treat, Mingi had the courtesy to thump on your back to dislodge it.

“Oh my- Yunho!” You spluttered, hiding your face behind your palms. “The one time I tried to get with someone and you were listening?!” a heavy groan of shame left your lips, your body sulking back into the camping chair you were sitting in. “That’s so unfair!”

As much of a gentleman Yunho was, he found the whole situation hilarious. “A really rare occurrence.” He grinned, reaching into the cooler for another beer. “Seriously though, I felt bad for you.” You knew what Yunho meant.

Yunho was referring to how fake your noises were, how the guy didn't even pick up on it. Not that Mulgyeol from the campus soccer team would have time to notice. The guy was out in 5 strokes. You also knew for a fact that Yunho was probably referring to the sad little fact of you having to finish yourself after he left. You weren’t proud of that but you have needs and whilst the vast population of men give you the undeniable cringe factor, every six months or so you would attempt to divulge your urges - just to see if it would be different that time. News flash, it wasn’t.

“H-How did we get onto the subject of my dry sex life?” You nervously chuckle, looking back and forth between the two men with vibrant cheeks.

A chuckle rumbled in Yunho’s throat, dying off to a comfortable silence. The conversation topic would have felt very intrusive had it been with anyone else, but somehow, the two still hadn't weirded you out. You were still sitting comfortably content in your camping chair around the fire with them.

Mingi fidgeted in his seat, fingers threading through his platinum blonde hair… he hadn't said much else for the next 15 minutes. the three of you sitting in comfortable silence.

“I’m off to bed, guys.” You mumbled tiredly as you stood. You began to fold up your chair to take inside, but Yunho waved you off, claiming he would take it when they went to bed.

You weren't far from them, certainly not out of earshot when Mingi spoke again.

“We'd never do that.” it didn't take a genius to know what he meant, and the mere thought of his words made your skin alight. “Goodnight, ____.”

Mingi's parting words at the campfire the previous night had lit a fire within you. Your skin prickled with the curiosity of what else he could have meant. Your dreams hadn’t been favourable to you either, your body jolting you awake with the lingerings of a breathy plea hushing into the silence. Your skin was littered with goosebumps, and your mouth felt dry.

One thing about being in this lakehouse is the chill of a night, but you didn’t plan on being out of bed long. Especially in your pyjamas that were only white shorts and a blush pink camisole with white lace trim to match. A shiver shuddered through you as your feet hit the cold wooden floorboards. You didn’t bother with a cover-up. It was 3 AM. Who would be up at this hour anyway?

Mingi was. Nearly choking on air as he rounded the open doorway to the kitchen to find you reaching up on your tiptoes for a glass from the top shelf. You had one knee resting on the grey marble of the counter for leverage but it only had Mingi’s eyes zeroing in on the shortest pair of shorts he had ever seen, your cheeks almost shyly peeking out the hem.

He sucked in a breath, brain finally kicking into gear when he saw your balance wobble and your fingertips only pushed the glass further away on the shelf. He heard you grumbling to yourself, cursing whoever decided to put the glasses on the top shelf. Your rambling had an endeared smile whispering the corners of his mouth, his head shaking slightly as he approached.

Mingi knew he was testing the waters here but as he closed in on you, his left hand splaying its fingers on your hip to steady you, his chest to your back, the right arm reached past your own to grab a glass. He felt the jolt of surprise your body made against his own.

Mingi cleared his throat. “You didn’t look like you were winning.” His voice was thick and gravelly from sleep, fingers tightening their hold on you as you moved back instinctively.

The glass made a muted sound as he set it on the counter, Mingi’s brown eyes nearly rolled back into his head at the view of your neck arched back to angle your head toward him, staring at him with surprised doe-like eyes.

You seemed to be rendered speechless, a blush on your cheeks that almost matched your top. The male was having heart palpitations when he finally got the front view of you, the teasing view of your navel between the hem of your camisole and the waistband of those pesky shorts he just wanted to remove drove him crazy.

Needing a distraction from the way your nipples perked beneath the material stretched over your breasts, his touch on you ceased. His fingertips tingled from the buzzing feeling of grazing your bare skin. Clearing his throat, he swiftly picked up the glass to fill it.

You felt like your soul was trembling, calling out for him to touch you once more. You felt wound tight, words catching in your throat. “U-Uhm, no.” Your attempt to recover had your voice sounding slightly strained. “Who’s bright idea was it to put cups on the top shelf?” You laughed it off quietly.

“That’d be me.” He hummed, “Yunho’s grandmother left us this place in her will, we renovated it a little.” Mingi leaned back against the counter, his black sleep shirt pulling taught across his torso. “We’ve known each other since we were kids, our families are close.”

You nodded quietly, acknowledging him. Mingi lifted the glass of water to his lips, your eyes locking on how his throat moved when he swallowed the cool liquid. Your gaze trailed up to his face, heated gazes locking as he pulled the glass away. Your breathing elevated, Mingi was looking at you as if he wanted to eat you… The corners of his mouth tilted up as he held out the half-full glass of water to you.

You couldn’t look away. The intensity behind his eyes locked you in place, your fingers brushing his own as they curled around the cool glass. Mingi couldn’t look away, couldn’t stave off the stirring in his shorts as he watched you turn the glass and drink.. His mouth prints are being covered by your own.

Mingi’s brain couldn't help it. To him, you’d just indirectly kissed him. He could see the range of emotions in your eyes. The eye contact finally broke when Mingi caught sight of a droplet of water cascading its way past the rim of the glass and making a path down your jaw and neck… he watched it disappear under the almost sheer camisole.

“Fuck, ____… You don’t make it easy.” He groaned throatily, prompting you to set the now-empty glass on the counter once more.

“What do you mean?” Your head tilted, eyebrows drawing in confusion.

An amused chuckle sounded between you, Mingi shaking his head in slight disbelief. “You seriously don't know how much we want you, do you?” He moved away from the counter, towering above you. Your chin was tilted up toward him by his index and middle finger, Mingi’s hot breath dusting your face. “You’ve got to know how fucking crazy you make us.”

“U-Us?” You echoed in confusion. You sounded breathy and distracted.

“Mhm. He’s right.” You jumped at the sound of the new voice. Yunho.

Mingi’s fingers curled around your jaw, tilting your head to Yunho’s tall figure casually leaning against the doorway. “Look at Yunho when he’s talking to you, Dollface, hm?” Mingi’s lips sounded against your ear, teeth grazing against the shell.

Yunho made it no secret that he was checking you out. Not when his bottom lip pulled into his teeth when his dark eyes roamed your figure. “We could give you everything you need and more, Angel.” His tone is soft, and you nearly find it harder to focus when Mingi’s face is pressed to your own, his hands sliding around your waist after finding no resistance.

“If you let us.” Mingi finished for him, ghosting his lips against the corner of your jaw. “But you ought to think about it…decide what you want.” His words left you confused, your eyebrows furrowing when they cut through the haze.

“Why?” You looked to Yunho, the male grinning at the desperation in your eyes.

He tutted, shuffling closer. Yunho’s long fingers slid into your hair, palm cupping your cheek. He almost cooed fondly at how you arched into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut. “Because this wouldn’t be just a one-time thing,” he murmured. “If we have you, we aren’t letting you go. You’re ours.”

Your breathing stilled, mind dizzying. A sound escaped your throat, both Mingi and Yunho’s touch seizing from your body. “Think about it, We won’t make a move until you do.”

And with that, both men left the kitchen with sick grins, leaving you standing there breathless and wanting.

You hadn’t slept for the rest of the night. How could you? With a proposition like that, your mind only raced. You’d come to the same conclusion. Nothing they said last night had scared you away. You still very much wanted them both, and actually, you liked the idea of being ruined for anyone else. Being theirs… well.. You guessed your thoughts of good guys only wanting bad girls were wrong.

You were already showered and dressed for the day by the time Yunho emerged from his room. Mingi was still sleeping, his door firmly shut opposite the room you were staying in.

You sat at the round four-seater table at the far end of the kitchen, a cup of coffee in one hand as you scrolled on your phone. Yunho liked the blue colour of the blouse you wore, your cotton shorts complimenting it nicely.

He fixed his cup, sitting silently across from you. Yunho wondered if he and Mingi crossed a line with you yesterday. He’d worried about it all night after the kitchen encounter. All worries were soon washed away when he caught your eyes shyly glancing up at him.

“Was last night okay?” He blurted, almost wincing at how rushed he sounded.

You seemed to pause, taking a long sip of your coffee before you answered him. Almost as if you were making him wait. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable.” You voiced, prompting his shoulders to relax.

The both of you sat in a comfortable silence until you’d finished your drink. “It’s so sunny out, I’m gonna catch some sun.” You washed your coffee mug up, then turned to Yunho just before you left the room. “Wanna join?”

Yunho nodded, claiming he would meet you out on the deck. What he didn't expect was to find you in a pastel peach string bikini, the front of your body shiny and glistening with tanning oil. He can see where you had missed spreading the liquid on your back.

He inwardly groaned. Surely, you were doing this to him on purpose at this point. Yunho readjusted the sunglasses on his face, setting his phone and book down on the small table between the two sun loungers. He leaned back in his lounger, picking up his book to flick through.

From the corner of his eye, he watched you lie your lounger flat, adjusting the head cushion to lie on your front. The sun bounced off your skin beautifully, and Yunho was about to compliment as such but stopped short when your hands reached behind you to untie your bikini top.

“You don’t mind, do you? I hate tan lines.” He couldn’t see the mischief behind your eyes with your sunglasses in place, but he for sure caught the twitch of your mouth. “Did I miss any of my back?” Your question was loaded with faux innocence.

Yunho slowly folded his book back, slipping in his bookmark in the process. He set it down, wordlessly grabbing the tanning oil and standing from his lounger. Yunho perched himself on the edge of yours. “You missed a bit. Can I?”

You hummed your consent, propping your head on your forearms. “Mhm, please.”

Your stomach fluttered at the feeling of Yunho’s big hands on your bare back. The tingles returned, just like from Mingi’s touch in the kitchen. His hands slowly rubbed the oil into your skin, fingertips adding pressure at your shoulder blades.

“You’re tense.” He mumbled, thumbs working at the knots of muscle easing the ache away only to make the ache in your core yearn for him further. His hands firmly pushed up from the bottom of your back, thumbs caressing your spine and his fingertips brushing the sides of your breasts.

The sounds he pulled from you had Yunho smirking to himself. An almost pained moan had his fingers pausing. “There.” You sounded so breathy... Yunho wondered if you’d sound like that if he found your sweet spot too…

“God..” You groaned, “You got magic hands or something?” You mumbled against your arm.

Yunho laughed softly, dragging his hands down toward the base of your spine. He thought for a moment, eventually speaking up. “You don't like tan lines, right?” He waited for your hum of affirmation. “Then what about these?” His fingers tugged at the waist of your bikini bottoms.

Your eyes sprang open, neck twisting to look back at him. Whatever he had expected you to say or do was not indeed what you said and did for certain… Yunho watched on in stunned fascination as you swiftly untied the strings on both sides of your bikini bottoms. “You’ve got a point. Mind helping me out again?”

Yunho had never agreed to something so fast, pulling your bikini bottoms back from behind. He swore under his breath, mouth parted as he watched the drizzles of the tanning oil hit your skin from the bottle in his hand. His hands moulded to your body again, smearing the shimmery tanning oil over the globes of your ass. He was entranced, locked on the way they rippled under his touch. Yunho allowed his fingers to testingly dip close between your legs, rewarded with a soft moan of his name. Your breathing was getting shallow, your body responding to his touch like a magnet. His fingers brushed so close, one arch of your hips and-

Yunho withdrew his hands, once again leaving you to sit on his lounger once again. You were a mess, body trembling as you attempted to recover. “There. All done.” The amusement behind his voice was clear to you.

Fuck.

After Mingi had woken up, he’d ventured out to the deck to join you. His chest was exposed, a pair of black swimming trunks sitting low on his hips. He sat in the lounger you previously occupied. “Where is she?” He asked Yunho, arms stretched above his head in a yawn.

Yunho nodded toward the lake where you were, sitting on the small jetty with your legs dangling in the water. As if you’d sensed him, you looked up from the ripples of the lake water and caught Mingi’s gaze. He grinned fondly at the beaming smile on your face as you lifted your arm to wave. “Cute.” He murmured to his friend.

Yunho nodded in agreement. “The sun suits her.” He looked up from his book. “Makes her eyes shine.”

Mingi tilted his head, smile broadening as you slid off the jetty and into the water. “She caught a tan today?” He didn’t look away from you once as you swam over, climbing up the ladder to the dock and brushing your wet hair away from your face.

“Yep...oiled up and everything.” Yunho thought back to how you’d just let his hands trail your body like that. Once again, he shut his book as you approached.

“Mings! Sleep well?” You asked, grabbing one of the towels you’d brought out with you that morning. You took no notice of the trance he was stuck in, too focused on the water droplets dripping down your body just like last night.

Well... a little like last night, he could see more of your body. Peach suited you. Yunho nudged Mingi with his foot, snapping him from his staring. “Huh? Oh! Yeah, slept great.” He sat back in the lounger. “Always do out here.”

After drying as much of your body as you could, you disappeared inside. It wasn’t long before you reappeared, a cherry popsicle in your hand. Mingi’s arm encircled around your waist when he noticed you were about to sit on the floor. Instead, he let you sit between his legs on the lounger.

“Better than the floor,” you joked. You lifted the end of the popsicle to your mouth with your left hand, and your right beginning to mindlessly scroll through your phone.

Your body relaxed against Mingi’s chest as his fingers mindlessly played in your hair. “Is the water warm?” He asked, raising an eyebrow of amusement as you moved the popsicle away from yourself with a grimace. The iced treat had melted, the sticky substance making a mess of your hand and chin. You didn’t even want it anymore. The Cherry taste was more sour than expected.

“A little chilly to begin with,” You answered, slotting the half-eaten treat back into the wrapper, Yunho taking it from your sticky fingers to put it in the bag they were using as a bin for their snack wrappers.

Mingi didn’t say anything more. Instead, he grasped your wrist in his hold and brought your hand to his mouth. With a startled gasp, you tilted your head to watch as he lapped up the remnants of the melted liquid from your skin. Once he was satisfied, he let your arm go to shift his attention to your neck and collarbones. His mouth was warm and soft, wet tongue lapping at the mess on your skin. Your arms raised behind you to curl your fingers into his hair, sighing out in contentment.

Mingi moaned against your skin. He was addicted now he finally had his lips on you. Just like he knew he would be. Mingi’s teeth nipped gently at the juncture of your neck, his tongue swirling over the skin to soothe it. You didn’t have it in you to scold him for marking you up… not when your mind was a dizzy spell of fire.

Your dazed, addled mind didn't even see Yunho move from his lounger. You hadn’t a clue until his strong hands grasped your ankles, fingertips ghosting their touch up your legs to part your thighs. “So pretty.” His honeyed voice reached your ears through the haze. “But, sweet as she looks…” He began, his tone sharpening. “I made a discovery earlier, Mingi.”

The younger hummed against your skin, mouth still worshipping your skin. “Mh? What’s that?” His words muffled with his wet kisses across the tops of your breasts above your bikini.

“Our Angel, here.” Yunho toyed with the strings of your bikini bottoms. “Already knew what she wanted the moment she came on this trip with us, didn’t you?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t think of a coherent thought right now… a sharp swat of Mingi’s hand across the top of your thigh drew out a whimpered gasp. “Yunho asked you a question, Dollface.”

“Yes! Yes, I knew.” You cried out, Mingi’s teeth biting at your skin once more.

“Thought so.” Yunho mused. “That stunt you pulled earlier really didn’t work in your favour, did it?” You hadn’t ever heard his mocking tone before, but you weren't about to complain… It sent shocks through your core.

“No, It didn’t.” You admitted. You were hoping to wind him up, determined to see how far he would go before he snapped… but instead, he’d left you practically naked and wanting on the lounger next to his.

Yunho tutted, shaking his head. He tugged the ties of your bikini free, letting the strings hand down. “I’m going to enjoy this.” He spoke raucously, shuffling down to lie at the foot of the lounger on his stomach.

Yunho's soft lips made contact with the inside of your knee, traipsing kisses up until he met the crease of your leg. He wasn't worried about anyone seeing you. The lake house was in the middle of a wooded area, two miles from the road or any neighbouring cabins.

Mingi held you still as your body began to writhe, the product of Yunho's lips blowing cool air over your throbbing centre. “Stay still, Pretty girl.” Mingi said gruffly, mouthing at your breast over your bikini.

His mouth worked at the bud of your left boob, lips suctioning around the nipple. Your whines fell on deaf ears, Mingi just wanted to kiss every inch of you. He struggled with the knot at the centre of your back that kept you partly clothed. Frustrated grunts, making him lift his mouth off of you to attempt to untie it. He settled with wrapping part of the string around each fist and tugging, effectively snapping the material.

Your head was too fuzzy to care, especially when you felt the flat of Yunho’s tongue lick straight up the middle of your core. “Yunho!” One of your hands flew down, from being draped around Mingi’s neck behind you, to clutch Yunho's hair. His mouth was relentless, muscular hands holding your thighs over his shoulders. You never knew a man could moan like that from eating pussy but here he was, his noises creating vibrations against you.

You didn't quite know where to pay attention to, Mingi’s mouth and fingers abusing your nipples or Yunho's onslaught of licks and sucks on your clit.

You slumped against Mingi again when Yunho prodded two fingers at your entrance, your hips cantering in acceptance. “You're so wet, Angel. Bet I could just easily…” Yunho trailed off as his middle and index finger finally pushed in. They dug deep within your walls, a long moan echoing around the deck. “Knew it.” He curled his digits, the pads of his fingertips tapping against the spongey wall he was looking for.

It elicited a sharp cry from you, Yunho mumbling a small ‘found it.’ before his mouth latched onto your clit again, tongue flicking in tandem with the thrusts of his fingers hitting your sweet spot.

By now, your sounds of ecstasy were no secret, pleas of their names desperately calling out as you writhed in their grasp. “Please!” You begged, Mingi lifting his head to watch your expression.

Mingi made a sound of disappointment as he was met with the sight of your head thrown back and your eyes closed. “Watch him, ____.” it wasn't a request. His tone held no room for debate, and so you peeled your glazed eyes open, tilting your head down to watch as Yunho devoured you.

You felt your orgasm building the faster Yunho's fingers abused your g-spot. Your moans rising in pitch. You didn't even give him a warning when your lower abdomen tensed, toes curling as the sound you let out was almost animalistic. Your thighs shook around Yunho's head, attempting to close, the fingers in his hair tightened to pull at the roots harsher than you meant.

When Yunho's head finally lifted from between your legs, he was grinning ear to ear at you as you slumped breathlessly against his best friend. You could feel Mingi's erection against the base of your spine from where you were laid.

“We're not done with you yet, Dollface.” Mingi cooed mockingly, looking down at your fucked out figure. He pressed a kiss to your forehead when you looked up at him, shaking his head gently and guiding your eyeline back to Yunho.

Your whole body froze. Yunho's swim trunks were chucked haphazardly onto the other chair, his hand slowly jerking his cock. He was huge! Probably the biggest cock you'd ever seen… his girth was impressive alone but you worried if he would even fit.

“____, you good?” He asked encouragingly. Yunho could see the apprehension on your face give way to a determined squint.

“Mhm. Fine, m'good.” Mingi's palms rubbed your sides as you answered.

“Okay, you need to tell Yunho if it's too much.” He stated. “You can make sure to do that, can't you?” He sent you a dazzling smile when you nodded.

You will yourself to relax as the fat head of Yunho's leaky cock makes the first press against you. Just the tip was stinging from the stretch. Mingi hugged your back to his front, kissing up and down the left side of your face and neck. “Relax. Stop tensing.” he demanded softly.

Mingi continued to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. Praising you, touching you, telling you how much you drove them both crazy. It relaxed your muscles enough to accept Yunho's length, pushing into you further. His teeth harshly bit into his bottom lip, his hips rolling slowly forward to sheath the final few inches in you. The garbled moan you made was accidental, but you were thankful Yunho stayed still to give you time to adjust.

“Holy shit.. are you all the way in?” Such an odd question to ask his best friend, but Mingi was never brash about such things.

Yunho nodded, his voice strained as he answered. “Our Angel’s a good girl. Of course, she took it all.” He grunted at the squeeze of your heat at his words. “I'm so deep.” He marvelled.

Mingi, as if to test his words, pressed his hand on your lower stomach. His eyes bulged out of his head, free hand reaching for your own for you to feel the outline of Yunho's cock. You whined, trying to roll your hips as a signal.

Yunho's thrusts started gentle, light taps of his hips against your thighs. Until you get used to his size, the initial discomfort makes way for blinding pleasure. His movements grow more calculated and hard. Mingi's hand stays on your lower stomach, feeling the way Yunho’s cock nudges your insides.

“Y-Yunho.. Yuuunhooo!” Your throat was hoarse from screaming his name repeatedly. “You're s-so deep!”

His thrusts get firmer, fingers digging into your thighs harder than before. This man was literally rearranging your guts in the best way. Mingi lets his hand glide from your stomach to toy with your clit, circling it with his fingers. It hadn't been long since your last orgasm but you were fast approaching a second. Yunho wasn't much better himself, his pace quickening. He felt his skin prickling as he approached his high.

The moment you fell apart around him, Yunho lost it. His thrusts grew sloppy, hips jittering as he spilt into you. “Fuck, Angel.” he panted. “You're gonna kill me.” Yunho pulled out slowly, taking his time to watch his release leak from you. He felt hot and sweaty but nicely sated.

Mingi manoeuvred your body back to the lounger as he slipped out from under you. The noticeable tent in his trunks caught your eye briefly. “Can you take one more?” He questioned you.

Yunho planted himself back on his own chair, sitting back to watch the two of you. He watched the obedient nod you gave, messy hair falling in front of your face.

Mingi tapped your cheek gently, pushing your hair back before connecting your mouths. The kiss was full of desperation, tongues curling around each other. You protested when he pulled back all too soon. “Turn over.” He helped you roll onto your stomach.

Unlike Yunho, Mingi didn't give a warning that he was going to thrust into you. He still gave you time to adjust, though, that much you were grateful for. His thrusts were brutal from the start.

Mingi wasn't holding back anymore. He wanted you ruined for anyone else but them. You were theirs and theirs only. He had a bruising grip on your hips, guiding them as you bounced back to meet his hips. Your moans and screams for him were constant, you'd surely have a sore throat in the morning.

He was pounding into you much harder than Yunho had. You had the pillow of the lounger in a death grip, back arched. Mingi watched the way your ass cheeks rippled with every bounce against his pelvis. You started to feel overstimulated, this was the quickest in your life you'd had an orgasm build up. Though, it was aided by the previous two and the mass amounts of tension between the three of you. Your lips parted on a silent cry as you came. Your body began to violently tremble.

Mingi pulled out immediately, his hand gripping his cock to empty his come over your ass, pruning deep in his chest. “You did so good.” He praised, breathless.

Your brain felt like it wasn't working. All you could do was dazedly giggle in reply. Thoroughly fucked.

“We broke her.” Mingi laughed, using the same towel you dried yourself with earlier to wipe your ass and lower back. He was sweet enough not to drag the rough material over your sensitive pussy. You were too overstimulated for that and he picked up on it quite quickly.

Both Yunho and Mingi pulled you into the en suite bathroom in Yunho's room a few minutes later. Your legs felt like jelly, and the two were cautious with how they handled you.

After they had showered you, Mingi wrapped you in a big fluffy towel. His arms held you to his body. You still hadn't said much, but your blissed out expression meant that the two men weren't worried.

“C'mon Dollface, you need rest.” Mingi said as he stroked your damp hair behind your ear. “We've got so much more in store for you.”

551 notes · View notes

sagi-tori-ous · 6 months

Text

INVASION OF PRIVACY

It was roughly 10 at night when Poppy stumbled into her shabby apartment. The sky was pitch black — winter was approaching so daylight seemed to lessen — and a chill swirled in with the wind that seemed to pick up a bit since Poppy had first departed.

She had gone out with a few friends who didn't know how to keep time the best and always somehow got alcohol to be the main hydration system for them — despite its dehydrating qualities. Poppy wasn't drunk but even the small amount of liquor in her body set it ablaze.

Poppy threw her jacket off and keys somewhere she'd curse herself for forgetting later and staggered into her quaint kitchen, she grabbed one of her glass cups and filled it up with tap water that was probably flooded with tons of metals and chemicals that a person's body shouldn't be filled with — but who was going to stop her.

She trailed her hands absentmindedly up and down her body, grasping at the side of her neck lightly before trailing that very same hand just over her breasts and keeping it flat on her stomach.

She guzzled the water down with small droplets escaping, wandering down her chin and almost making it to her neck before she wiped it off.

It wasn't until she finished her glass of water did she hear the light murmur of her tv playing in her conjoined living room.

“Fuck.” she cursed, making her way there but the blare of her phone stopped her, she dug her hand into the back pocket of jeans pulling it out and answering without looking at the caller id.

“Yelloo!” she slightly slurred into the phone, less from intoxication and more from the fact that her energy bar was draining fast at this point.

“Hello my ass!” it was Poppy's friend on the other end, her tone was scornful. “ You said you would call first thing when you got home!”

Poppy rolled her eyes,“Calm down.” She started walking back to the TV to turn it off, not wanting to run her bill up even more “ I literally just got here, I didn't do anything besides get a drink of water mom.” she was thankful for their concern and was going to for sure call them but she wanted to get settled before anything.

Poppy stood in front of the television, a Male news anchor gazed back at her —she turned the appliance off — just barely catching the headline which said something about ‘aliens’, which made poppy scrunch her face up and shake her head. The news seemed to lose its meaning more and more everyday.

Her friend was still lecturing her through the phone but Poppy's mind just trailed, “ Okay okay, I get it Mel, I love you, I'll talk to you tomorrow, goodbye.” she rushed and hung up the phone, not letting ‘Mel’ get another word in.

She let out an agitated sigh.

Poppy shut off the minimal lights that she had turned on when she returned and traversed her way towards her bedroom. Relaxation to the highest degree was the only thing on her mind.

She grasped at the light switch and scrolled through the many colors her LED lights had and stopped on the purple color, giving her room that tranquil lavender hue that she loved. It was relaxing yet sensual, somehow — it described how Poppy was feeling in the moment.

Poppy glided over towards her dresser, going into the exact drawer that held her vibrator — it was pink, it wasn't extremely long (about 6 inches) and it obviously vibrated — it got the job done and that's all that mattered, especially now.

“Hey buddy!” she cood at it, getting even more excited at the thought of her pussy dripping all over it while she fucked herself through as many orgasm as she could.

She threw it onto her queen sized mattress and started undressing, she already unknowingly took her shoes off somewhere near the door — she peeled her snug high waisted dark wash jeans off, leaving her standing only in her subtle yellow thong that contrasted beautifully on her bronze skin.

Next was the random cropped sweater she threw on just before leaving the house, under it was a matching bralette to the thong. The sheer imagery of herself turned her on more.

Poppy loved herself, some could say in a cocky way — but wasn't that the best. She knew her body like the back of her hand, as she should, and loved pleasing herself. She loved figuring something out with her body that nobody else could. The thrill was like none else.

She slid on top of her fluffy comforter, making sure her body was positioned in the most comfortable way — she also aligned herself so she could be facing the mirror that adorned her wall.

Poppy spread her legs and pushed them towards her chest, she could just make out her figure in the mirror due to the purple lights. It added a different layer of scenery, a sight Poppy loved.

Her left hand grasped at her left breast, she kneaded it through the thin cloth. Twisting her nipple between her fingers, a small whimper left her mouth. A small pool slowly seeped through her panties, making the fabric turn a bit sheer, outlining her pussy lips.

She moved the bralette down to let her nipples free, the clothing article still grasped the cusps of her breasts — the air hit the buds making them harden all the more. The same hand came back up and dipped into her mouth, she wet the fingers enough before bringing them back down and circling the erect nipple.

Her hips had a mind of their own, moving to cause some kind of friction. She was needy.

Poppy grabbed at the vibrator with her free hand — she instantly turned it on and delicately placed it over her clothed pussy.

“Oh.” she moaned, her back faintly arching. Applying much needed pressure, the vibrator slid between her restricted folds, brushing against her pulsing clit. The action caused a bit of a tremor in her legs.

“Fuck” tucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she kept a steady teasing pace, every now and then she would skim over her clit. The pace she was going was torturous.

Poppy eventually laid the toy down — although she didn't turn it off, it laid there while it lowly buzzed — she discarded the last pieces of clothing off her body with all speed. She needed to see every inch of her body, she needed to see all of her awaiting chest and the purple light to glisten off her pussy in all its entirety. She needed the full visual.

She disregarded the clothes and with no hesitation dipped two of her fingers into her slick folds. Poppy wanted, no needed a taste of her essence, she tucked those fingers into her mouth and moaned at the taste, she swirled her tongue around the digits before releasing them with a pop. A little saliva dripped down her body but she rubbed the rest right back onto her pussy, creating an — if even possible — wetter mess.

It didn't take long for the vibrator to be right back into her good grasp.

Poppy drug the toy from her clit to her leaky entrance and then back to her clit, she repeated this process two more times before dipping the head in. Throwing her head back, “Shit!” she hissed. She didn't dare to push it in all the way, she lived for the build up.

The way her stomach clenched and legs seemed to have a mind of their own, toes curling and pleasurable sounds getting caught in her throat. It was an euphoric feeling.

A — what she thought — was a familiar sound coming through the walls. She rolled her eyes and tried to ignore her ignorant neighbors, this wasn't the first time that they've had a problem with controlling the volumes in their abode. It didn't help that the sound that had interrupted was loud and shook the walls a bit.

“Fuckers probably dropped something heavy.” Poppy seethed but nestled into her bed, pushing the vibrator in more and more. She'd be damned if she didn't get her orgasm tonight.

“Oh fuck~” she let out when it hit a certain point, if she curved it up just a tad more she was sure she could brush up against her g-spot.

‘BOOM!’ The building shook again, faint screams were heard and to anyone in their right state of mind — they would've known that those screams were not full of anger or passion but of fear, jumbles of genuine panic.

Maybe it was the few drinks she had earlier, maybe it was the orgasmic haze she was building to that clouded her better judgment — that made her think that the world was just trying to make sure she didn't reach her most high. “Please, shut the fuck up! Please!”

Poppy screamed. Her chest heaved and skin warmed with irritation, she was pissed. The buildup was gone and anger replaced it. She was so heated that she didn't notice the eerie silence … or the thunderous footsteps that sliced through it.

When she did notice the silence though, it was too late.

The same queen size bed she resided in slid forward, the wall behind it breaking with such force that it caused the piece of furniture to move like it weighed near to nothing — debris flew all over the room and a dusty cloud disturbed her vision, she wasn't able to make out anything but knew from the bottom of her heart she wasn't alone anymore. Poppy's chest heaved with a total different type of emotion, terror.

She was scared.

Her body shook but not with pleasure, not with urgency — well not with that specific urgency but the urgency to live. She knew she wanted to get out of this situation alive, she didn't know how she was going to go about that. Especially when she laid eyes on her guest. The smoke screen dispersed.

Through the mirror that still was across from her, just closer in space, she saw something. Something so tall that it bent down slightly to fully come into the makeshift door it made. Its face was covered with a mask and it had locs on its head, adorned with gold ringlets and other tribal jewelry. Its body was covered in armor and it held a spear in its hand, not like a wooden or traditional spear.

This spear looked Mechanical, it looked as if it wasn't just a spear and even if it was, Poppy didn't want to be on the bad end of it.

You could barely make out its beady eyes from the mask but it was close enough to Poppy to where she could see the light shine off the black orbs.

.”Please don't kill me.” a cry slipped from her lips, tears coming down wetting them in the process “ please, i'll do anything, please don't kill me.” she pleaded, her eyes conveying her vulnerability. It didn't matter that she and whatever stormed into her bedroom didn't remotely share any similar DNA, and the fact it most likely didn't understand a word she was saying.

She was going to beg. She was going to appease whatever sympathetic — if it even had one — bone it had in its body.

The tears continued to flow and her mind started to wander. She thought about how quickly her life had become in danger, she thought about her friend and how she so easily brushed her off. She thought about how rudely she said goodbye, not knowing how those words would literally be the last words shared between them.

The thoughts made her cry harder — the steps it took so casually towards her, made her go into hysterics.

Poppys' back was pressed against the headboard as if it could shield her, she wouldn't dare turn around and become so close within range, cutting off the mere moments of life she had left. She gazed into the mirror and watched it come closer with no worry. Why would it worry though? It knew where the superiority lied.

It was behind her, the only thing that separated them was the splintering wood of what was left of the headboard. Poppy watched it through her tears.

She watched as it gazed down at her like she was a foreign specimen, as its left appendage came and caressed her head — not as if to soothe her but to make an observation as of what she was. This didn't console her, not one bit.

She felt its rough armored covered hand trail its way down her body, tracing over her neck and coming down her chest — it grazed her nipple causing her breath to hitch. A familiar tingle making an appearance at inappropriate timing, Poppy just blamed it on how the human body worked, this is how the body functioned.

It didn't stop its journey. Only when it made its way down to the soppy mess between Poppy’s thighs did it momentarily halt. Detouring if you will.

Poppys clit throbbed as she watched through the mirror, fear entwined with need — a treacherous combination.

The rough hand came in contact with her folds, swiping through and collecting her present arousal. The action was so fast and powerful that a jolt shot through Poppy and she couldn't help the small whimper she had let out.

Tears falling sporadically now, but the full fledged sobbing stopped. She wanted to live but if she were to die, how could she save a life that wasn't hers any longer?

She was miniscule compared to this thing, even slightly bent and playing with her essence it still cast many shadows on her, staying heads above her.

She wasn't paying attention to what it had been studying as she had been studying it. So when it slid a thick, long digit into her soaking folds it had caught her by surprise — her hands shooting up to hold its armored arm and hips jutting forward to meet the calculative thrusts it gave.

“ mhm” she moaned out and rolled her hips at the sensation, her stomach clenching for numerous reasons. Its finger moved around inside, giving her the same fullness as the toy that was inside her mere moments ago.

It curled up, hitting her g-spot, “oh fuck” she cursed, her hips starting to run away on their own but the finger was never far behind and without mere moments to spare she orgasmed all over its fingers.

Her body twitching from the fresh release and her mind not really focusing on the important things. In a way she was almost relaxed.

Till her body flew forward half a foot, she was now on her stomach and face mere inches away from the same mirror that's been the only witness to tonight's ventures. It had smoothly landed on her bed, somehow without making much noise and crouched behind her. She took notice of its strong hind legs.

Poppy's mind went to the news anchor she had silenced, she thought about the headline — Alien. She mentally scoffed, of all things an alien would become the first honest thing anyone has reported in such a long time and yet because of the same deception they casted into homes, Poppy couldn't take the news seriously. She couldn't shield her life.

The alien grasped at the sheathing that adorned its abdomen and nether region, it clicked around before the armor popped off with an almost undetectable hiss.

The covering slid off its chiseled body and Poppy could not help the strangled gasp that left her — when her eyes made contact with its outwardly cock. She didn't know why it astonished her as much, seeing as its stature was much larger than hers.

Its skin was a pale-ish yellow color, and she couldn't help to compare its structure to that of a humans, the way that the muscles were accentuated became vaguely familiar. From its chest, to its abs, the only thing she could honestly differentiate — its bulbous penis — the shape was similar but the size was scary, to say the least.

The otherworldly creature grasped at her hips and tugged her lower half towards it, its cock stood at gruesome attention — its arousal crystal clear. Poppy grasped at her bed covering, she couldn't believe that something like this was happening. How much she wanted it was the craziest part.

She had yet to say a word besides her begging fit earlier and pleasurable sounds from when it had finger fucked her — she was too embarrassed to say anything, she would rather wallow in her shame and its cum quietly. Well as quietly as she could be.

Snatching her from her pitiful thoughts — it dragged its pulsing pre cum dripping head across her wet slit, mixing both of their juices together to create the best lubricant. It let out a hum of approval, the first sound it had made tonight and dare she say, Poppy loved it. How deep and guttural it was made Poppy's stomach clench in the best way.

The alien dipped the head of its hungry cock into her awaiting opening, “oh fuck” Poppy's head lolled forward into the mattress, her mouth was agape and eyes closed as it slid its length inside her. She knew that it wouldn't be able to fit entirely and the thought saddened her, she wanted it all.

When it got in as much as it could it started to move in and out of her wetness, barely giving her time to adjust. Its movements were not humane, yet still calculative. It didn't look down at her with care but as if it were a Predator and she was its prey.

She could feel every groove, bump and vein as it plunged into her — her pussy clenching around it like a glove.

Poppy was so confident in her ability to know her body that it wreaked havoc on her that every time that it pushed into her awaiting pussy it touched her g spot, every time — but yet, she could just merely brush against it.

She couldn't even form coherent words as her second, more powerful orgasm washed over her. Her pussy tightened over its length — which made it growl louder — and creamed all over the resilient alien. It never let up, never gave her a break.

Her body lay limp as she took everything it gave to her, even when it decided to push more of its length inside her battered womb. She could feel her stomach expand everytime it pushed forward, she could only tiredly lay her hand over her stomach as it fucked her into oblivion.

“ Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! “ Each orgasm was more powerful than the last, each one did more and more of the impossible.

With a loud rumble, it grabbed her hips so tightly that she knew they were bruised and the skin most likely scratched and raw — ropes and ropes of cum were dumped into her. It's like they were shooting straight at her g spot, her legs shook fiercely and her pussy squirted — not only her juices but the cum that stained her walls gushed out as well.

Black spots painted her vision, her chest heaving at a worrisome rate.

She knew somewhere in her mind that it knew that she was spent — but this wasn't about her.

Its right arm came around her waist to hoist up her pliable body, it grabbed at her legs so that they sat on its muscular thighs — giving a much better access point.

Poppy was basically sitting on the alien's lap with its cock still stuffed inside, still hard and throbbing as if it didn't just fill her to the brim.

She just leaned back and shivered once her back made contact with some cold metal — her eyes barely able to stay open — she could just about make out their figures in the mirror, she could see the mixtures of cum dripping from where their bodies met. She could see how puffy her pussy was and how glossy its cock was as it maneuvered in and out of her.

Saliva slid out of her mouth and down her chin as the all too familiar feeling started to build back up within her. She knew this one would be the one to make her succumb to darkness and maybe even death, at least it was pleasurable.

She whimpered and whined, her legs planting on its steel thighs as she tried to run away from the feeling — she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

Poppy knew she lost, she knew when its arms circled around her — locking her in — and started pistoning inside her, it seemed as if its cock only knew to hit her g spot. She cried, tears sliding down her face as her pussy leaked and vision became blurry, breathing didn't come naturally and because of that she became lightheaded.

Sobs racked her body as she came, her hands grasping at the arms holding her. Her stomach cramping from her multiple orgasms and the appendage that has now claimed it as its own.

Not once did the Predator stop. It didn't stop when her legs slipped from their settled position. It didn't stop when her hands stopped squeezing its arms. It didn't stop when her head lolled to the right and eyes closed.

It just held her close to its conscious body and let her pussy envelope him with the warm welcome to its new home.

Dedications: @deunmiu-dessie

Banner/Divider: @cafekitsune @pwixi

435 notes · View notes

green-alm0nd · 4 months

Note

Love your writing so much! Can you please do some separate headcanons of the bad batch who get assigned a female!general who’s super sweet and a total scaredy cat? Because of this, they’re SUPER protective (and jealous) of their dear general, especially when it comes to other regs! And of course as time passes, they begin to develop a crush on her

Hello! Of course I can! :p

[The Bad Batch x Jedi!fem!reader (headcanons)]: "I could never choose to love another"

----

Summary:

In which the Bad Batch member you're in love with falls for you too.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: protective Batch, jealousy, fluff, mild mentions of Crosshair having a panic attack, and that's pretty much it. Not proofread.

Enjoy!

A/N: Thank you <3 and I hope you enjoy your request!

----

HUNTER:

When Hunter first heard of becoming a general's squadron, he couldn't believe it. He and his brothers had been rejected by the Republic (in general), and suddenly, someone wants five clones on their squad? Unbelievable.

However, Hunter knew you were different when you first showed up and tripped over your own Jedi robe, got up, smiled and extended a hand to him. There was something in your eyes that made you different from the rest of the Jedi.

The more time he spent with you, the more time he got to meet you. At first, it was the usual jokes to break the ice; usual, playful banter; calm nights talking to his brothers... That's when Hunter saw your sweet side. There's a point where he started calling you by your real name whenever you were alone.

He literally became your protector, keeping you out of trouble whenever he could, avoiding food cantina fights so that you wouldn't get hurt, etc. He knows you can defend yourself, but there was always something that made him protective over you and his brothers.

Another reason you gave Hunter to be more protective over you was the fact that you got scared pretty easy. And, cherry on top, whenever Hunter saw you with regs, he'd become jealous and probably try to get you away from the regs as much as possible.

He didn't make it super obvious, of course. Then, he realised he might have fallen for you. However, he knew it was unprofessional, so he'd keep it to himself.

Though, he could not hide the slight blush that came over his face whenever you teasingly brushed your fingers against his calloused hands.

ECHO:

Now, Echo was happy his squad assigned to a new general. Ever since Skako Minor, he felt like the Republic had done little to nothing to try make him feel normal again. However, he was insecure about his general seeing him and rejecting him in some way.

Nonetheless, he immediately fell for you when he saw your bright smile, as your eyes came in contact with his.

Unlike Hunter, who took a long time to realise he had fallen for someone, Echo had the love-at-first-sight type of problem and he swore he'd keep it to himself. It was unprofessional and you were his general.

He found it endearing to see how scared you were of basically everything: bugs, surprise hugs, animals... However, that did not stop him from blushing every time you jumped in surprise and held his shoulders for support.

He's definitely protective over you, but he knows you can handle things. He trusts you completely and knows you won't get in trouble. He's not possessive nor jealous in any way (he's too sweet to be possessive).

Yet, he still feels a bit jealous when you prefer talking to the regs and sometimes will try to make a friendly conversation so as to keep you with him.

Again, Echo knows what he's doing. He knows he shouldn't confess to a person that's a higher rank than him.

But, his face turns red when your hands rest on his waist for a few seconds.

WRECKER:

Let's all be honest, Wrecker does not care who you are, as long as you like hugs. Because Wrecker gives lots of those.

When he first saw you arm wrestling a reg and you won, this man was ready to spar with you for the rest of his life. You were also very nice and polite.

I reckon Wrecker laughs when you get scared. Though, he does become serious and protective when there's something truly menacing happening.

He will not be bothered to beat up any reg if they're disrespectful or just mean. You're one of his only friends besides his brothers, and he feels the need to protect you.

He found out he was probably in love with you because 1) He asked Tech, and 2) He felt something pleasant in his stomach whenever you laughed.

Wrecker won't hesitate to show his love for you: whether it's by hugging, congratulate you for anything you do, let you sleep with his tooka doll...This man is not ashamed of showing how much he loves you.

He knows he shouldn't date someone in the middle of the war, but he can't help but hug you from behind and wishing you good luck whenever you go on a mission that's not with them.

TECH:

At first, Tech did not care who you were. To him, you were just another Jedi general. He hadn't heard from you, so he thought you'd want Clone Force 99 for their strength and not their personality.

Tech didn't pay much attention to you at first. But, one day, he started rambling about hyperdrives and noticed you listening. You were paying full attention and he couldn't help but blush a little.

This smart clone will be a tad surprised at how much of a scaredy cat you are. Maybe, you'll receive a comment or two from Tech, though they are harmless.

This is one of the reasons why Tech became overprotective. He started placing you behind him whenever something -or someone dangerous would happen to be there.

And, around the regs, Tech will get into a verbal fight whether they're mean or not. He registers the feeling he feels as jealous, and he will try anything to get rid of it.

That's when he realises that jealousy is laced with having feelings for someone. And he figured it was you since he felt jealousy when you were with other regs.

Tech knows he's risking his and your position if anything happened between your two, so he'll stick to telling you how beautiful you are through flowers.

CROSSHAIR:

Like Tech, Crosshair doesn't care either about who you are. He figures you didn't want to be a general for Clone Force 99 and you'd probably run away out of fear when you saw them.

At the sight of you, he couldn't deny you were beautiful. And he was genuinely surprised at you kindness, making him slightly fond of you the more time you two spent together.

Time passed, and he hated you for making him feel weird stuff on his stomach, yet he admired your sweetness towards anyone you met. This made you naive, but also endearing.

Cross will mock you for being a scaredy cat, but in reality, he will become more protective of you. Whenever a reg approached you, he was right behind you. He will listen what you are talking about, and, if things went bad, he will immediately come out of the shadows to protect you.

When he realises he's fallen for you, he tries to deny it and refuse to accept him. But the way you smile, the way you fight, and the way you are in general will keep him grounded.

There's a point where he won't deny it, and give subtle touches or a gentle nudge whenever he's around you.

Crosshair does not give a damn about the rules and the order, but he knows you'd risk everything, so he keeps his hands to himself most of the time (besides when he's doing the things from the prior paragraph).

However, the annoying butterflies will appear again when you stand opposite him whenever he's having a panic attack and you help him.

----

I hope you like it, anon :p

#the bad batch #star wars #bad batch #the bad batch x reader #star wars tbb #bad batch hunter #hunter the bad batch #tbb tech x reader #tbb #tbb wrecker x reader #tbb echo #tbb echo x reader #crosshair the bad batch #crosshair x reader #the bad batch headcanons

386 notes · View notes

s-brant · 2 years

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy

Nancy and Y/N are best friends. The problem is, Y/N and Steve have been secretly hooking up for weeks, and when Nancy asks for advice about possibly getting back together with him, Y/N doesn’t know how to feel.

“wow genuinely your steve fics are so good and seem to be super well thought out i’m literally scared that a prompt i send won’t be good enough!! i dont know i want to say “we shouldn’t be doing this” sex w steve because i’m a whore for it”

7k (18+)

Warnings: smut, penetrative sex, exhibitionism, praise kink, very slight dub-con if you squint due to wording but not really, it’s also just assumed reader is on the pill, and strong language.

This is wrong.

She knows that she shouldn't be thinking or feeling any of the things she is at the moment, but, when she looks up from her spot on the floor in the Wheeler's basement to find Steve staring at her, she cannot ignore the butterflies that stir to life in her stomach. Those pretty brown eyes of his are quick to avert back to the task at hand, but, for the short few seconds that they lock eyes, his lips twitch with the urge to curl up into a smile at her.

The thing is, Y/N and Steve have been secretly fucking for a few weeks now. In her defense, she didn't actively seek him out for the sake of having sex with him.

It was dark and rainy that night, and she was caught up in the storm on her bike as she pedaled home from cheer practice, eyes nearly shut from the wind that blew up the street at her face. The uniform she donned all afternoon was drenched from the downpour, and her hair stuck to the sides of her face as well. It annoyed her that she was two miles from home and her useless mother couldn't be bothered to part with her boyfriend to drive to get her, sure, but she tried not to let it bring her down.

Then, out of the gloom that hung over Hawkins, the headlights of a familiar BMW came up over the hill in the road to shine in her face, and she knew it was Steve before he even had the chance to slow to a stop and roll down his window to talk to her. If anyone else did this—even him a few years ago when he'd been the king of Hawkins High School—they'd come off as a creep, but it was Steve. Her best friend Nancy's sweet, if not a little clueless, ex-boyfriend who babysits her brother and his best friends. There was nothing to worry about.

He asked incredulously, "What are you doing out in this?" The doors to the car unlocked with a click. "Come on, I'll take you the rest of the way. You're gonna get sick."

So, she went. Her bike barely fit in the back of the car, and once she slammed the door shut, he wasted little time in driving off into the rainy night.

"Where do you live?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"I was gonna go ask Nance if I could crash in the basement. My mom didn't answer, and when she doesn't answer, it's probably not a good idea to come home unless I want to walk in on something that'll make me wanna bleach my eyes. Learned that lesson the hard way."

The sound of his melodic laugh filled the car, then, when she just stared at him, the amusement fell from his face.

"Oh, you're not kidding?"

It was her turn to laugh.

"I wish," she said, cutting him a sidelong glance before setting her sights back on the road ahead. "She and her weirdo boyfriend literally demand that I don't come home on nights he's over. Apparently, it's their constitutional right to fuck on the kitchen counter, I don't know."

There was a dip of silence in which neither of them said a word after that.

In his peripheral vision, he could see her fiddling with the hem of her soaked cheer skirt awkwardly as she avoided looking at him at all costs, and, suddenly, something changed.

Y/N had befriended Nancy shortly before their breakup, so he hasn't been in close proximity to her many times. Seeing that they've been broken up for a year, he doesn't have a reason to interact with her except for when he's picking up or dropping off the kids from the Wheeler's house when she's hanging out there. But, that night in his car, she was acting strange around him. Strange in the way that girls used to act around him all the time back when they hoped and prayed for a chance with the most popular guy at school. He didn't understand why she was behaving in such a way now, though. The way he saw it, he was a loser who couldn't even get into college like his other classmates and worked at Family Video.

What he didn't know, however, is that she didn't think he was a loser at all. If anything, her view on him then made a complete turnaround compared to when he was dating her best friend. When she got stuck with him and the kids last year at Joyce Byers' house and watched him go head-to-head with Billy in defense of Lucas, she knew a small part of her heart would always belong to Steve Harrington. She was the one to clean the cuts lining his face, as well as the blooded nose caused by the beating he took, and place bandaids from under the Byers' sink on each one of them. After that, she didn't see him again outside of fleeting glances in the hallway and through the windows of his car parked outside the Wheeler's place until recently.

He said, trying to keep his cool with the smoking hot girl he never noticed last year due to his Nancy-induced heartache sitting in the passenger's seat of his car, "I just dropped Dustin off at Mike's and Nancy was on her way out to see Jonathan."

She asked, "How about your place, then?" and the rest was history.

It wasn't even a half hour later that she was laid back on his couch with his head buried between her thighs and a hand gripping a fistful of his hair as she panted for air amidst the build-up to her orgasm. Then, after she woke in his bedroom and snuck out of the front door before his parents could notice her presence in the house, it wasn't long before they crossed paths again...and again and again. She'd wait around the back of the school where she knew Nancy wouldn't see for him to pick her up from school after his shift at Family Video, and they began to develop a routine of swimming in his pool, having dinner together since his parents couldn't be bothered to hang around with him, and having sex before he had to drive her back home in time to do her homework before bed.

As far as she was concerned, they were just having fun and not labeling whatever it was that was going on between them. Steve, on the other hand, was already imagining how her name might sound with his last name attached to the end of it.

Now, as they're sitting in Nancy's basement and helping the kids with the projects they waited until the very last second to start, he's still fantasizing about all the things he wants to do with her. Not just sexually, either. He's been trying to work up the nerve to ask her on a date for the past few days, but every time he tries, his nerves get in the way. That voice in the back of his mind sings its doubts, telling him that she'll never want him in the same way that he wants her. No one has ever wanted him to be the one, so why should it start with her?

When Steve gets up from the couch to pay for the pizza they ordered to the house, Nancy casts a look over her should at him to ensure he's too far to hear and scoots closer to Y/N while the kids are engrossed in their own conversations.

She whispers, "Can I tell you something? It's about Steve..."

Anxiety tightens the muscles of Y/N's chest as she tries to keep her face schooled into a mask of neutrality. Although she feels like the truth is written across her face every time she comes into the presence of her best friend, she is outwardly as calm as can be. She doesn't know whether or not she should take pride in the skill she's acquired in lying since she and Steve began hooking up.

What else can she do except nod?

Nancy goes on in a hushed tone, "I've been kind of having these...feelings for him again lately. Feelings I haven't had since we were together before. And I love Jonathan, I do, but I guess I'm just worried about what I'm missing. I just don't know if I made the right choice now that these feelings are back." As soon as the words leave her mouth, she shakes her head and shuts her as if that'll take them back. "That was so fucked up of me to say, I'm sorry."

The news sinks home inside of her like lead weighing her down at the bottom of her stomach. Part of the reason she hadn't bothered entertaining the curious side of her that wondered if Steve felt anything more for her in the quiet moments after they had sex, when he'd linger on top of her for a few seconds longer and murmur his praises into the warm curve of her neck, was because she'd be confronted with the issue of her best friend being his ex. Granted, they weren't best friends for the majority of the time they dated. She was more of a post-Steve thing, but that isn't the point. The point is, her own moral code, as well as girl code, dictates that Steve is strictly off limits. But, if that's true, why does she want him so badly?

But because of this, she cannot do anything other than force a reassuring smile on her face as she reaches for her friend's hand and whispers, "Thoughts aren't inherently bad or good, they're just thoughts. Everyone has doubts to themselves, but I think it's important to remember how well you and Jonathan work together. I mean, he was the reason you left Steve in the first place."

The words she doesn't speak aloud but feels clawing at her from the inside begging to be released are something along the lines of, Please, don't drag him back just to break his heart again in another year. Don't steal him away if you don't really want him. But, she can't say that, not because it isn't her honest opinion regardless of her current relationship with him, but because Nancy would know based on the waver in her voice that something is going on between them.

To her mortification, her words don't appear to help the difficult debate waging war on Nancy's mind. If anything, it muddles things further and creates more discourse.

"You're right, you're absolutely right, but..." Of course, there's a but. "What if my instinct is trying to tell me something and I'm ignoring it?"

There's a drawn-out pause, then—

"Maybe just wait and see how you feel for a few more weeks before you say or do anything. It might just be one of those things that comes and goes, y'know?"

Nancy is quick to nod, setting her focus back on the partially painted piece of cardboard belonging to Max's unfinished project. For another minute or so, Y/N can't do anything but focus on her out of the corner of her eye, worry stirring to life within that the happiness she's experienced in the past few weeks will be taken from her the second Nancy decides to talk about the feelings she's having.

Steve isn't hers, so why does she feel this nagging possessive instinct whenever she imagines her friend acting on the feelings she just admitted to having? She never realized until now, but she doesn't think she can share him. Whether that means they will soon need to have a talk about their arrangement and how the feelings she's having are getting in the way of it being just "fun" or not, she isn't sure, but she knows one thing.

She needs to find him.

Y/N sets down what she'd been working in favor of standing from her spot on the floor, knees tucked beneath her bottom on a stray cushion, and offers up a placating smile when multiple faces around the room perk up to see why she's leaving.

"Where are you going?" Mike asks.

"Bathroom," she says. "Be right back."

With a quick, worried glance at Nancy calms her nerves instantly. There's no suspicion present on her friend's face. If anything, she's too focused on the task at hand, as well as the difficult debate going on within her head over the whole Steve versus Jonathan thing that has existed since junior year of high school, to notice or care about her sneaking away to "use the bathroom". It allows Y/N's racing heart to slow momentarily as she ascends the old staircase to the Wheeler's basement and enters the main level of the house. Slowly, carefully, she shuts the door to the basement behind her to keep any conversation she may have with Steve as private as possible.

The bright array of cozy lights strung up around the Christmas tree positioned in the corner of the living room passes in her periphery on her way to the front door where she sees Steve talking to the pizza guy with one hand casually propped against the open door. She assumes it must be an old friend, perhaps someone who used to be on the varsity basketball or baseball team with him back when they were in school together, but it matters little to her who they are at the moment. The only thing she can think to do is stake her claim before it's too late. Or, at least, have one last good night with him before Nancy takes him back.

She waits with her back leaned up against the staircase railing and watches him take the stack of three boxes from the delivery man after handing him the cash as payment.

"Alright, have a nice night, man," Steve says.

The man lifts a hand to wave goodbye over his shoulder as he's turning to walk off in the direction of his parked car, and, with that, the front door swings shut. When he turns around with the pizza boxes balanced precariously in one hand, it's difficult not to flinch and drop them all to the floor at the unexpected sight of her standing there.

"Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me," he says after a second is taken to steady himself, one hand pressed over his chest as though to soothe his heart after the drastic shock it received. When she remains quiet, he furrows his brows, continuing, "You're really quiet right now. It's actually kind of creepy." His voice then quiets as a new thought comes to him. "...Unless it's a weird sex thing, then I might like it."

All she does is allow her lips to curl up a bit at the ends in a slight smile before she turns to walk down the hallway to the kitchen. The living room is being used by Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler to watch a popular movie Steve so kindly held aside at Family Video for them when they asked Y/N if he could do so. And, of course, since she was the one who asked, it was delivered right to Mrs. Wheeler the second he arrived tonight.

In fact, the exact words he said, although quietly so anyone at the store couldn't hear, when she asked was, "Sure. Anything for my girl."

My girl.

As she walks through the entrance to the kitchen with her back to him, she picks the two words apart over and over again. Particularly, she gets stuck on the first one. My. It lights a fire in the pit of her abdomen, desire flaring to life at the memory of him casually declaring her as something that belonged to him. My. A possessive word. One he had been comfortable in using. The question is, would he be comfortable with it the other way around? The voice in the back of her head can't help but wonder...

Is Steve hers?

He keeps eyeing her up suspiciously throughout the process of setting the pizza boxes down on the kitchen island one by one and checking to make sure they're what they ordered before the delivery man pulls out of the driveway. Once it's confirmed that they are, in fact, two plain cheese pizzas and one pepperoni for Max and Dustin, he pauses to call her odd behavior into question again.

Steve asks, "Okay, you're really starting to freak me out. Are you okay? Did I do something?" She doesn't allow her face to give away any of her true intentions as she walks around the island, making sure in her peripheral vision that there's no one around to see them as she approaches. "If I did something, you can just tell me—”

His sentence is cut off at the end by her kissing him to shut him up.

It's a surprise, sure, but it doesn't take him any longer than a second or two to realize what's happening and react accordingly. As if it's an instinct as natural as breathing, he kisses her back with an urgency that brings a flushed color to his cheeks and settles both hands on her hips to tug them closer. The warmth of his fingertips touching the stretch of bare skin between her slightly too-short sweater and jeans draws a barely-audible noise from the back of her throat. But, he hears it. He always picks up on those little things about her, whether they be sounds, expressions she makes, or anything of the sort.

The kiss is cut short a second or two later out of fear of someone walking in, but his hands refuse to stray from her hips when she pulls away with a look in her eyes he knows all too well. Her pupils are blown wide with lush, glazed-over in a way they never get outside of moments such as these, and he knows straight away what she wants from him.

He asks, "So, it was a sex thing?"

Finally, she can't help but break her act of stoicism and offers him a bright smile.

"Shut up and follow me."

"What about the kids—"

The sharp tug of her hand wrapped around his wrist brings him away from the kitchen island, bringing him along in every step she takes toward the entrance to the hallway. She doesn't bother to look over his shoulder when she next speaks. Instead, she gives his hand a reassuring squeeze to get the same sentiment across as the words leave her mouth.

"They think I'm in the bathroom. And, for all they know, you could be outside talking to the pizza guy," she offers.

It's settled, then.

Still, in the time it takes her to drag him down the hall and up the staircase behind her, Steve can't help but check over his shoulder multiple times to ensure Nancy, Robin, the kids, or Nancy's parents didn't see them leaving to go up the stairs. The last thing he expected tonight was for her to pounce on him like a feral animal and drag him upstairs to have her way with him in a house filled with people. They've done it in risky places before, like on the break room table at Family Video and his car parked at Lover's Lake, but they've never done it in a place as risky as Nancy's house.

Despite the mild confusion it causes, whatever it is that has gotten into her, he prays it never leaves. It isn't unusual for her to initiate sex with him. Hell, half the time, she's the one who leans in to kiss him first or calls to ask if he's home, but he has always been the one to initiate in situations like these. It was his idea to fuck her on the break room table just like it was his idea to bend her over the hood of his car at Lover's Lake last week.

Every door they pass and briefly pause at is a no-go. Mike's room? Absolutely not. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler's room? Never. Holly's room? That would be the most deplorable thing either of them has ever done. So, when they reach Nancy's half-open bedroom at the end of the hallway, Y/N has no other choice but to pull him inside and push him up against the shut door.

In between the eager, open-mouthed kisses she gives him, he murmurs, "We shouldn't be doing this. Nance will literally murder us if she finds out."

She shakes her head into the kiss and pulls back, breathless, to say, "Then, we're gonna have to be quiet, huh?" before promptly reconnecting their mouths.

His face lights up at the mischievous tone her voice takes, and he can't ignore how his cock starts to strain against the tight denim of his Levi's at the mere thought of fucking her while everyone else is unaware downstairs. She can feel him smirk against her lips, his chest jerking with the sound of him chuckling to himself at how this girl has him wrapped around her finger.

And there it is. With a conflicted feeling of acceptance, he finally realizes he's falling in love again.

As soon as he realizes that this is real, that they're truly about to do this, Steve takes control of the situation in a matter of seconds. His hands make quick work of tugging her sweater off of her body. Her arms rise to make the task easier for him as he frantically undresses her and tosses the knitted fabric onto the floor behind the locked bedroom door. When she's free of the confines of her warm sweater, she then reaches for his shirt and rips it off with the same frantic nature he had with her. There's a time and place for unhurried, slow sex, but this is not one of them. By her estimation, they have five minutes to spare before their friends notice their absence and begin to question their whereabouts.

He hefts her up into her arms with his hands grasping the backs of her thighs to bring them around his hips, but right before he can set her down on the bed, she shakes her head.

"No, Steve, the headboard hitting the wall will be too loud."

This earns a scoff from him.

Though he'd never be dumb enough to bring up his ex while he's about to have sex with her, Steve is as familiar with Nancy's room as she is, if not more. After all, he snuck inside a handful of times and had to get creative so as to not allow her parents to hear what they were doing while they were asleep across the hallway. Her headboard does bang against the wall, that she's right about, but her mattress doesn't creak much, and if he puts a few of her pillows between the wall and the headboard...

He tosses her down onto the bed with ease and crawls up to meet her where she lays with her head cradled against one of the pillows. His hand reaches to the side to grab the other one and maneuvers it between the wall and headboard, then grabs one of the many decorative ones to do the same on the other end before coming back to her.

Ignoring her previous statement entirely, Steve asks, "You're real cute when you're nervous, you know that?"

The button and zipper to her jeans come undone with a few deft movements of his fingers, and she can't help but grin up at him in spite of her fear of getting caught as he pulls her pants and underwear down her legs in one smooth motion.

There's something better to her about being called cute or beautiful by him rather than the typical "hot" label guys have thrown at her. Don't get her wrong, being called hot is flattering in circumstances of one-night stands or even random compliments from those she likes, but having the guy you like call you cute or beautiful in a moment of heady desire is different. She knows by the way he said it alone that she isn't just an easy fuck to him. He genuinely likes her, and that's not something she ever expected to happen seeing that he used to be a well-known jerk as well as her best friend's ex-boyfriend.

He hardly has the chance to undo his own jeans and shove them partway down his thighs before she's tugging him down onto her with a needy plea for him to fuck her. Her arms wrap around his shoulders as he kisses her, his tongue invading her mouth without warning, and uses one of his hands to guide his cock through her sticky folds. When his tip rubs against her throbbing clit, she can't help but whisper more desperately, urging him to get on with it.

"Steve," she says, a sharp gasp escaping at the feeling of his tip against her entrance, "Please"—her hips press up to sink the tip of his cock into her a little more—"Need you."

Usually, he'd be the insufferable little bastard he always is and retort something like, "Yeah?" or "Tell me what you need from me," for the sake of getting her to blush for him, but they have already used up at least a minute of their time before things become suspicious, so he gives her what she wants without protest.

She cries out beneath him when he sinks into her with no opportunity for her to gradually adjust to his thick cock. Her fingernails dig into the soft skin of his shoulders with enough force to leave crescent-shaped marks indented into him. Before she can think to make another noise again, though, Steve's hand is covering her mouth.

His eyes have gone wide, and the smooth motion of his hips stalling for a second as he listens for anyone coming up the stairs before he pulls his hand from her face. Somewhere to the right of her body, he reaches to grab something she cannot be bothered to look at.

He says softly, "Gotta be quiet, baby," and stuffs the shirt Nancy left on the bed into her open mouth.

Y/N doesn't even have the chance to be shocked or turned on by the fact that he gagged her with his ex-girlfriend's shirt—while they're fucking on her bed—because he starts to move the second he's sure her noises won't get them caught. Well, at least, the noises coming from her mouth. As for the sound of their bodies smacking together, as well as the wet squelching sound that accompanies it from how wet she is, whether or not anyone hears that is left up to chance.

His arms are braced against the bed on either side of her head, caging her in and forcing her to look at him while he ruins her. It doesn't take much for her to feel that fire in the pit of her belly flare up. All it takes is the feeling of him pushing in and out of her, the spare hair at the base of his cock brushing against her clit on the upstroke, and she's melting in his arms.

Seeing Steve above her is like seeing every one of her wet dreams come to life. Sometimes she does dream about him. Whether it be when she's alone in her bedroom or sleeping beside him on nights they're both too exhausted to stray from his bed, she'll wake on the edge of climaxing with her hands balling up the sheets into a fist. When she's alone, she'll take care of it herself. When she's with him, she'll roll over and start nudging her face into the curve of his neck, peppering kisses there until he begins to stir from his sleep.

The sound of her muffled moans coming through the makeshift gag encourages him in his efforts to press himself deeper inside of her on every thrust. One of the hands beside her head grasps one of the posts of Nancy's headboard for leverage while the other slips down between their bodies to press down on the lowest point of her abdomen. When he puts pressure there, it intensifies the pleasure felt from the steady rocking motions he makes into her, and she can't help but buck her hips up to meet his thrusts.

The heel of his hand presses down right above her pubic bone, leaving his fingertips in a perfect position to rub her clit for her. He knows they have very little time, so he doesn't bother trying to get her to come from penetration alone like he often does when they're alone in his empty house while his parents are out. Before him, she never even knew that was something her body was capable of. That's not to say every other guy before him was terrible in bed, but there's a reason he gained a good reputation with the ladies in Hawkins. The first of which was that he had, as she already knew from girls who gossiped about hooking up with him, a big dick. The second and most important reason of all was that he knew what to do with it.

The sight of her breasts bouncing, although hindered slightly by the bra they couldn't be bothered to remove, brings him closer to his end quicker than he expected. He'd like to think he's experienced enough to spend more than a minute and a half fucking a girl before he feels himself getting close, but, with her, one would think he's a touch-starved virgin with how easy it is for her to work him up.

His forehead drops down to press against hers as he mutters, "God, you're fucking perfect," with the words pitching up into a whine at the end from how she clenches around him.

Just when he thinks he can feel her tensing up and writhing beneath him with the build-up to her orgasm, someone knocks on the bedroom door.

He goes as still as death, and Y/N, too lost in a world that solely consists of Steve Harrington and nothing else, looks up at him with her brows scrunching in confusion until she too hears what drew his attention away from her and caused him to stop.

"Y/N?"

Her eyes go wide at the sound of Nancy's voice, her hand coming up to rip the balled-up shirt out of her mouth in time to respond to her. But, of course, Steve would never let her off that easily. As she opens her mouth to speak, he starts to thrust into her again—slowly, deeply—and it takes everything she has not to whine his name as he rubs her sensitive clit in lazy circular motions to interrupt her train of thought. With the careful pace set and the pillows preventing the headboard from hitting the wall, the bed's constant shifting doesn't make enough noise to alert Nancy of what's happening inside.

She clears her throat and calls out before he can snap his hips forward into hers again, "Yeah? What's up?"

The doorknob rattles as though the person behind the door is trying to get in.

"Why is the door locked?"

Y/N looks up at Steve with pleading eyes that beg him to cease this torture and allow her the time to respond, but he doesn't. He just dips his head down to kiss at her neck, careful not to leave a mark behind, and leaves her to fend for herself.

"Um," she says, voice a tad louder than she intended from a particularly hard jerk of his hips, and rushes to cover up the accidental outburst, "I figured I'd change into my pajamas for the night. If we're gonna be eating a lot of pizza I don't really wanna"—a whimper is choked back at his fingers speeding up their movement on her clit—"be uncomfortable in my jeans."

"Oh, okay. Well, we're all downstairs whenever you're done." There's a dip of silence, as though Nancy is hesitating before saying what comes next, then, "Have you seen Steve? Dustin was looking for him when he came upstairs. None of us can find him."

Under his breath, he murmurs in annoyance with his hot exhales puffing against her ear, shaking his head, "Henderson."

Of course, Dustin would be the one to send Nancy upstairs in search of him when he's seconds from coming inside her best friend.

Her cock-drunk brain takes a delayed few seconds to conjure a believable alibi for the man fucking her into the mattress right now as she claws at his back and bites down on his shoulder to stifle the moans that try to escape the back of her throat. As Steve grows more and more confident with his ability to ramp up the pace and depth of his thrusts without the bed making too much noise, she starts to unravel rather quickly. She can sense it building in the bottom of her belly and starts shaking her head at him as if he can do anything to get Nancy to go away.

She has to concentrate all of her energy on keeping her voice steady as she says, "He said he was going out to get some soda for the kids 'cause he heard El asking Mike if you guys had some. He was just going to the store for it, so he'll probably be back in like ten minutes."

The second the last few words leave her, she tips over the edge, and his hand comes down to smother her mouth to prevent any noises she makes from echoing in the small room. Neither of them acknowledges whatever parting words Nancy offers before she retreats downstairs to the kitchen for dinner. Steve is far too preoccupied with watching and, more importantly, feeling her come beneath him.

The euphoria rushing through her has tears falling from her watery eyes as she embraces the intense high with her arms clinging around his waist for support. Now that he hears Nancy bounding down the steps, every one creaking beneath her shifting weight, he pounds into her with no thoughts present in his head other than those relating to her and the climax he chases with little care for how the bed begins to squeak beneath them.

"Steve," she cries out with tears slipping down her cheeks.

He brushes her hair from her face in a soothing, repetitive motion and whispers, "Such a good girl," as he pins her to the bed with his weight and uses the remaining scraps of energy left in him to slam his hips down against hers with a ferocity she can hardly cope with in her sensitive state. It doesn't take any longer than a few seconds for him to be tipped over the edge along with her.

His eyes are squeezed shut on instinct when he spills into her, hips jerking haphazardly, but she's quick to remedy that.

"Look at me," she whispers with a hand closing around his neck to force his head up, and he obeys without hesitation.

And, of course, she was right to tell him to do so. As soon as he meets eyes with her, the explosive pleasure felt in the span of ten or so seconds it takes for him to ride it out is heightened to a degree he rarely experiences it at. Even as it begins to slip away from him, he keeps rocking into her at a slow pace until the dying undulations of his hips give way to an exhaustion he can no longer ignore.

He pulls out of her, careful in his movements to mind her sensitivity, and falls onto his back on the empty space atop the mattress beside her. The second he leaves her, she's quick to tug her discarded panties back up her legs to avoid staining Nancy's bedding with his cum.

His hair-smattered chest has a thin sheen of perspiration over it, a drop of it rolling up and down with the rapid rise and fall of his panting breaths. Y/N watches its path as she turns onto her side and scoots closer as subtly as she can to savor the warmth emanating from his body.

Steve doesn't even pretend not to notice her sneaky attempt at cuddling up to him. He stretches his left arm over her head and uses the other to scoop around her waist, bringing her in to rest her head on his shoulder how he knows she likes to. They don't have much time to spare, but, for the next half minute, they lay together in the afterglow and pretend they have eternity to waste away together.

Breaking the silence, he groans and rubs his eyes, saying, "Shit, now I have to go get soda for the kids."

The sound of her giggling brings his attention over to the pretty girl laying with her head on his shoulder. Her hand trances circles in the layer of sweat shining on his chest, playing with the hair growing there whenever she becomes bored with her designated pattern of tracing every once in a while.

"Sorry about that. I couldn't think of anything else," she says softly.

He just shakes his head, then presses a kiss to the top of her head.

"Don't worry about it."

She's the first one to leave the bed to search for her discarded clothes, and once she gets up, he doesn't have many reasons to continue laying there other than the fact that he gets especially tired after he comes. Still, he forced himself to get up out of bed after pulling his pants back up into place and zipping them up.

Together, they redress in silence and listen to the sounds of the younger teens shouting at each other and laughing in the kitchen below them. It brings a soft smile to her face to imagine everyone having fun together after all of the heartache they've shared as a group.

"What are you smiling for?" Steve asks.

Her head snaps up from where it had been craned down to search through her backpack for the pajamas she mentioned to Nancy not long ago.

She shrugs.

"I just like hearing them have fun. They deserve it after everything they've been through."

The conversation drops back off into silence again after this, and he can't help but smile to himself as he thinks over what she said, trying not to look up and watch her redress while doing it like a creep. It's only another minute that passes before they're both fully clothed again—he in the same outfit he was wearing prior to their impromptu fuck, she in the pink matching pajama set he's seen her wear a million times. Once she runs her fingers through her hair a few times, it looks as though nothing out of the ordinary happened during her trip upstairs.

While he waits for her to fold up the clothes she changed out of, sitting on the edge of the bed, a nagging curiosity compelled him to ask her, "Not that I'm complaining, but what made you so..." He trails off for a second, trying to find the right word for it. "Horny. We could've just gone on a drive to the store together and pulled over if you asked."

For the first time since she dragged Steve upstairs, the words Nancy said to her in the basement come back to the forefront of her mind. This time, however, it doesn't haunt her as much as it had before she came to find him. There's a lingering sense of insecurity, but after what just happened, she has a good feeling he's been over Nancy for a while. If he weren't, he probably would've freaked out and stopped when she knocked on the door, but he hadn't. Instead, he decided to keep going for the sake of teasing her and acted as though his ex wasn't even standing on the other side of the door.

Y/N avoids making eye contact with him at all costs when she finally answers.

"Um," she says, "When you went upstairs for the pizza, Nancy said something to me about wondering if she made a mistake breaking up with you, and I guess I got a little...jealous..."

Before he can even take a breath, let alone process everything she said and come up with a coherent response, she continues rambling out of fear of what he'll say when he responds. Part of her still fears that he'll end whatever it is they have for the sake of rekindling what he had with Nancy.

"I know we aren't—like—dating, obviously, but I haven't been with anyone else since we started doing this, and if you wanna get back together with Nancy, I won't get in the way. I promise. If that's what you want, it's fine." She starts to pace back and forth in front of where he sits, dumbfounded, on the foot of the bed. "I just—I like hanging out with you, and I guess I like you, and the idea of seeing you with anyone else makes me go nuts, so—"

This time, it's his turn to shut her up with a kiss.

She was so caught up in her improvised speech, she didn't even see him standing up from the bed until his hands were cupping her face to pull her into a desperate kiss. It doesn't last any longer than a moment, but, fuck, it makes her even weaker in the knees than she already is from getting fucked by him a few minutes ago. Her hands shoot out to grasp onto his biceps, squeezing hard to keep herself upright, and he reciprocates by allowing one of his arms to cocoon around her back to provide her additional security.

When he pulls away, she starts to chase his lips, and he must fight the urge to smile hard enough to make his cheeks ache at the sight of it. The hand cupping her face moves to tuck her hair behind her ear, then drags his pointer finger along the edge of her jaw until she opens her eyes to see him staring at her.

"I don't want Nance, I want you."

Heat rushes to her cheeks in response to his honesty to add to the flush already present there from the strenuous exercise they endured together. And he loved it. He relishes in how bashful and skittish his unabashed desire makes her. Typically, she never lacks confidence in their time spent together. She was the one who suggested they go to his place that first night when he found her biking home in the rain. She was the one who dragged him upstairs demanding they have sex. Yet, now, she's turning all shy on him.

She tries her hardest to play it cool, though, shrugging and saying through a smile, "Good," before taking his hand to drag him over to the window he used to use to sneak into Nancy's room.

It's the same window she uses to sneak into her room on nights when Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler say no to their daughter's pleas to have her friend over, so she's quite familiar with how easy it is to enter and exit from. Thank God he has his wallet and keys stowed in the pockets of his jeans. If he left them downstairs, he could always go out and window and come through the front door pretending he "forgot" them, but that wouldn't be the most believable excuse considering how long he's been gone.

Seconds after she opens the window, he's crawling through with a fumbling awkwardness that ends with him bumping his head on the side of the house with a soft, "Ouch!" muttered into the cold night air.

When he's finally settled on the other side of the window, standing on the roof of the garage with his hands gripping the window sill, he takes another few seconds to look at her.

"I'm gonna miss you tonight. I didn't know you were sleeping here," he says, not wanting to leave just yet.

To this, she simply bends down, pokes her head through the window, and kisses him goodbye. Her hand grasps the hair at the base of his neck to guide him into it, and he returns the enthusiasm immediately, rising onto his tiptoes to deepen the kiss as if doing so will make the short time they're to spend apart easier somehow.

Their lips are still brushing when she pulls back to whisper, "I'm coming over tomorrow night, remember?"

He pecks her lips again, then pulls back, saying, "It's a date."

Throughout the ordeal of Steve jumping down from the roof and landing on his feet in the driveway with a muffled groan, she watches with a goofy smile on her face from the bedroom window. The look he shoots over his shoulder at her to check if she saw him stumble on the landing only widens that smile, and she knows he's blushing in embarrassment without the porch light being on to light his face.

It's only when he drives off in the direction of the nearest store that she shuts the window to keep out the cold that's raising goosebumps on her skin and turns to lean against it with a sigh. It isn't an exasperated one or even a sad one. It's a sigh caused by disbelief and joy. It doesn't matter that he's her best friend's ex at the moment. They'll find a way to break the news with as little fallout as possible when the time comes.

The only thing that matters to her at the moment is that he wants her.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction

5K notes · View notes

wynnyfryd · 10 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 33

part 1 | part 32 | ao3

Chapter 8

cw: period-typical attitudes/language

"Steve," Robin hisses through the phone, and he can practically hear her nostrils flaring. "I have been trapped at Uncle Bobby and Aunt Deb's house for six. days." She drops her voice to a harsh whisper, the tone somehow even more disapproving at a lower volume. "HOW have you not kissed him yet??"

"It's not like I didn't try!" Steve throws his hands up; nearly knocks his broom to the floor. He's finally sweeping up the shards of glass in the living room, because he's tired of wearing shoes in his own house (and because at some point he's going to have to have the kids over whether he wants to or not. He's kind of surprised Erica hasn't shown up demanding to hang Christmas lights yet; that girl is aggressively festive.) "He was all 'ask me in the morning,' so I was gonna ask him in the morning! Not my fault it was Monday morning and his stupid uncle barged in yelling about how he was going to be late for school."

"You really shouldn't call him stupid," she interrupts, "that man is a saint."

"No, you’re right. Wayne's awesome."

It’s true. Wayne walked in on them that morning, like, fully spooning in their sleep — Eddie pressed all along Steve's back with an arm over his waist, their ankles intertwined — and rather than beat Steve's ass and ban him from their house like Steve expected him to, he just awkwardly grunted 'breakfast is ready' and shut the door.

"I'm always right," Robin gloats in his ear.

"You're always the worst."

"You love me." Steve hears shuffling as she adjusts the cord — probably wiggling around to lie on her stomach on the bed and kick her feet up in the air the way she likes — and then she says, "I'm still not seeing how this explains the other five whole days, though."

Jesus. Five whole days. Like she's his unimpressed boss and he’s late with the quarterly reports. "Our schedules kept not lining up! And then he went out of town with Jeff's family for the holiday."

"And you haven't called him?"

Steve glares flatly at the phone; hopes she can feel it through the line. "Literally how would I do that, Robin?"

"Well— I don't know! Maybe..." She hums in thought then snaps her fingers, talking fast. "Ooh! You could ask Wayne for the number? I mean, he'd have to know it in case he needed to reach Eddie, right?"

"Uh huh." Steve loves her solution-oriented brain, he really does, but that's one of the worst ideas he's heard in a while. (And he's including Mike and Dustin's attempted kidnapping last month.) "Yeah, let me get right on that," he snarks, switching the phone to his other ear. "I’ll just call them up and say, 'Hey, Mr. or Mrs. Jeff's Grandparents! This is Steve Harrington, may I—? Oh. Who's Steve Harrington, you ask? Nobody, sir or ma’am, just the kid who stood by and watched while his teammates gave your grandson a swirlie two years ago, so I'm sure he fucking hates me still for that! Anyway, can I please flirt with your house guest now?'"

Robin's whinnying into the receiver by the time Steve finishes his rant, and he begrudgingly laughs along with her, shaking his head as he stoops to pick up the dust pan.

"Okay," she concedes. "You may have a point."

"Thank you."

"But you still have to do something to make up for this when he gets home! Otherwise, he's going to think you're, like, having a straight boy crisis or something and get all weird."

"I'm not having a 'straight boy crisis,'" Steve rolls his eyes. He's having a bisexual boy crisis — at least, according to the three hour phone call he had with Robin the other night (which was humiliating, by the way; he never thought he'd be quietly crying tears of total confusion while saying the words 'I still likes boobies, though' out loud. Jesus Christ. Sexuality is embarrassing.) "And I already have a grand gesture in mind, anyway."

"Oh?" Robin perks up. "Do tell."

"I was thinking we could, like..." Hmm. It's sounding less grand when he goes to say it out loud. "Well, shit, I don't know. I thought we could go to one of his shows together when you get back, but now that sounds kind of lame?"

“No, that's good! That's perfect, actually. We can get a whole group together to go support him, then he'll see that you're not embarrassed to be seen around him with your friends."

"Wait, was that a concern?" Oh, god. He dumps more glass into the trash can; hisses when a little shard gets his fingertip; sucks the wound into his mouth. "Are you sure it’s not-? I mean, I want him to know I mean it in a romantic way, not just a friendly gesture."

"Well, yeah, obviously. But you can't just go by yourself; his bandmates hate you."

Oh, right. “Yeah.” That would be pretty awkward to loiter in a booth by himself all night while Jeff and Gareth and the other kid glare daggers at him. "Do you think you could get a group together? If I do it…"

"…We'll be hanging out with a group of dorky freshman all night?”

"Rude."

"Accurate."

"You know what? Tell Deb and Bobby they can keep you."

"Ah!" Robin gasps. "You would turn to stone like a troll in the sun without me, and you know it!"

Man, he misses her. "Yeah, I know it." He puts the broom back up on the hook. "When ya comin' home?"

"Soon, I hope. I swear to god if I have to hear Deb and Patty fight over the leftovers one more time—!" She cuts herself off with a strangled noise, and Steve laughs at her plight. "Anyway, yes. I'll ask some friends at school—"

"—Is one of those friends Vickie?"

“I can multi-task; shut up."

"I love you," he smiles.

"Love you, too, dingus.” Her voice dips soft and sincere for just a second; there and gone. “Hey, I have to go, Carrie wants the phone.”

“You have too many relatives.”

“Ugh, I know. Okay. Leaving for real now; can't wait to see you for Operation Woo Your Man!”

"Robin, no-!”

“Got to go byeeeee.”

“We’re not calling it that!” He holds the phone out with both hands so he can yell into the receiver. “Robin? Robin!"

The line's already dead.

—

part 34

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic

597 notes · View notes

callsigngrim · 10 months

Text

Let me taste you

This is smut so please MDNI

Warnings: smut, face sitting cocky Konig she/her reader pronouns kinda self insert

This is the first time in years that I've written smut so bear with me.

I hope you enjoy!!!

He knew it was wrong but by the gods he couldn't help himself. She looked too sweet walking around wearing a short summer dress. She had invited him over to watch a movie after he'd just come back from deployment. One could argue that it was simply the adrenaline that hadn't completely left his system. Or it was because all of her soft curves were on display being hugged by the soft material of her dress. God it would look even better bunched up around her waist as she bounced on his cock. Fuck he had to calm down. She was his neighbour, his sweet shy neighbour who baked cookies and collected succulents. He shouldn't be having these thoughts.

Konig continues to watch her as she bustles around in the kitchen grabbing snacks for their movie night.

You throw the last pillow onto the couch before beckoning Konig closer. You smile as you see him sit on your couch. He takes up almost all of the space leaving only a little room for you,not that you really mind.

You like being close to him. Always touching him in some way. Movie nights always left you painfully turned on from being so close to the very large and very handsome man. He was always so thoughtful helping you whenever you asked, there were plenty of times that you wanted to say something about how you feel about him but every time you would stop yourself out of fear of rejection.

You're halfway into the movie zoning out before you realise you're almost sitting on his lap having thrown your feet over his thighs in order to get comfortable. You make a move to get off but he stops you before you get the chance to move. He looks at you intensely slowly taking notice of the blush covering your cheeks and the way your pupils have dilated

"Enjoying the movie mein schatz"? His voice sounds deeper than usual but still has a teasing tone to it. You're just about to answer before you hear the actors on screen moan. You're blushing you can feel it turns out you didn't pay attention to what movie you had put on.

You want to say something but your voice is gone. You quickly shift trying to get off before you and Konig simultaneously freeze you brushed against his cock which was definitely not soft.

Konig was still laughing while you wriggled out of his grasp when your leg brushed up against him; he didn't have time to register that he all but moaned when that happened, too caught up in trying to read you when he saw your eyes widen at the realisation that he was hard.

You both stare at each other, your leg still very close to Konigs aching member. "The uh movie must have gotten you riled up a bit huh"? You cringe at your choice of words god he's probably embarrassed and now you made it worse by opening your big mouth.

Konig is silent, staring at you as he thinks about what to do or say. He's about to play it off and just laugh and say yes it was the movie before he catches your thighs subtly rubbing together

Fuck it he thinks."It's you Libeling you made me hard you got me "riled up" wearing that short dress and showing off your gorgeous body"

His words catch you off guard there is no way this man got turned on by you. As if reading your mind Konig pulls you so that you're sitting in his lap legs on either side of him and your pussy is right on top of his cock. It takes everything in you not to grind down on him to feel that delicious friction. But you manage to hold back.

"I've been wanting you for months,schatz do you know how hard it is not to rip off your pretty little dresses and take you right then and there"?

"Konig please" you mewl put his name fuck your wet from just a little bit of dirty talk and literally just sitting on his clothed dick.

The tension he had been feeling for months finally snaps the moment your pretty begging hits his ears. He surges forward kissing you and pulling you impossibly close to him. It's a heady collision of passion between you two. You kiss and kiss tongues twisting together breaths mingling as you give into one another. You pull away absolutely breathless as he moves kissing down your neck pulling the straps off you dress down so he can plant kisses on your tits. He starts sucking each one with vigour alternating between kissing and sucking to twisting and pulling them till you're a moaning mess.

He stops suddenly and you whine at the loss of his mouth on you.

He shifts until he's laying down on the couch with you being pulled up to sit on his chest.

"Let me taste you liebling, be good for me and ride my face". You look at his face flushed, his chest is rising and falling rapidly and he looks like he wants to devour you. How can you say no?

You quickly take off your panties before moving up to hover over his face. His pupils are blow wide you can barely make out the small ring of blue in his eyes. "Are you sure,I don't want to hurt you? '' You've always been subconscious about your weight and you were scared you might hurt him.

"Please Schatz ride my face let me taste you"

You don't have time to argue before he pulls you down and starts licking you with abandon

His hands keep you in place and you can only stay there and take the assault on your pussy. Konig sucks and licks your clit causing you to clutch the couch for support.

He moans when you grab his hair grasping it gently as he slowly starts to fuck into your tight hole with his tongue. It feels so good and it's not long before he pulls a mindblowing orgasm from you. As you try to pull away he pulls you back down starting all over again. He eventually helps you get to your second climax when he moves your hips making you grind yourself against his face. The noises are obscene and filthy from the wet sounds from how he eats you out to your moans and his groans only getting louder as you climb to yet another orgasm.

He lets up a little gently pushing you up so he can insert a finger into you. He keeps licking and sucking and with the added fingers you come again seeing stars.

You pull off of him and collapse on top of him exhausted ready to cuddle and fall asleep.

But your eyes widen when he finally speaks

"I think you're ready to take my cock now mein liebling"

#konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig #konig smut #konig cod #smut #cod smut

524 notes · View notes

transmascaraa · 6 months

Note

Idk how to write this but

Reader is so lost in being a people pleaser, they no longer defend themselves when being insulted

(like, someone saying "I wish you could just shut up and never speak again" to them seriously, and them clearly hurt, would still laugh as if what the person said was a joke etc)

🫶🫶

multiple characters headcannons!

you're a people-pleaser...

characters: lyney, gaming, tighnari x gn!reader

author's note: WHY ARE YOUR REQUESTS LITERALLY ME😭😭 i love them tho‼️ ENJOY READING<33 (random writing motivation smh)

☆ Lyney

-off-topic but the lucille font looks so beautiful with lyney's name

-ANYWAYS

-speaking from experience, people-pleasing sucks.

-and to overcome it, you need somebody's support, because you most likely won't be able to do it on your own.

-sometimes, it can only take a few kind words to break out of it.

-and he will be the one who will help you.

-since i hc him as a people-pleaser too, playing the role as the "big brother" to protect his siblings and please 'father' because he's occupied to do so,

-yes, he does genuinely care about his siblings, but he sometimes goes too far just to be sure.

-so, back to him helping you, he'll always remind you that you're your own person, that you're not alive to just please others.

-you don't owe them anything, so why do you do it?

-nonetheless he will give his all to praise you and remind you that you're perfect just the way you are, and that you shouldn't change for anyone except for yourself.

-sometimes, if you're about to make a choice you clearly don't want, he'll gladly choose for you and say that you're just indecisive.

-"you're hurting yourself for others, it's not good. you're you, unique."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✯ Gaming

-similar to lyney, except for the fact that he isn't a people-pleaser himself.

-you probably wouldn't even need to tell him anything, he'd realize it on his own.

-your every single day would be filled with millions of praises about how you're unique on your own.

-how you shouldn't listen to others.

-how you only live once.

-soon enough, you'd probably break down to him many times about it(like you probably would to anyone)

-and when you've listened to his praises and reminders enough, you'd slowly get better and better at actually being yourself.

-yes, of course it would take some time, of course it can't happen overnight, but he'll wait.

-he'll be patient with you.

-he won't rush you.

-all he cares about is that in the end, you'd finally put an end to it.

-and trust me, it would come sooner than expected.

-"you're nobody's toy or puppet for them to play with. you're your own person, [name]."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✿ Tighnari

-get ready for the biggest mom ever.

-he would realize on his own, not like he wouldn't notice you choosing to work for the whole night rather than rest, especially because it was requested by someone you hate.

-AND IT WAS SOMETHING OPTIONAL.

-he's not dumb, he will notice.

-he'll literally call you to the living room for some "serious talk" one day and it would actually get you worried.

-then, he will start lecturing you about it and how bad it is for you and your health.

-you actually start feeling bad for him... he cares about you so much and everything while you aren't even happy yourself... you let others walk over you while you laugh at the pain.

-once he realizes that you started feeling bad, he'll apologize for coming off as rude or mean, even if you confront him that it's okay afterwards.

-he'll start reminding you about all the reasons why you shouldn't do it, but he won't rush you, he'll let you take your time.

-it may take you a but longer, but it will come eventually.

-every morning, he will put a new quote on the bathroom mirror just for you.

-quotes as in "live laugh love", "keep on going!", "you can do it!", "be yourself!", etc.

-"you don't live to please anyone, no matter how important they are. you're just fine on your own."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I LOVE THIS

writing motivation hits different fr

I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT^^

| @keeyisbored | @mariaace <3

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #gaming x reader #gaming x you #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #grrrr like 2 more reqs left i'll probably finish sometime today #· nyx's genshin hcs *⁠.⁠✧

239 notes · View notes

minhosimthings · 8 months

Text

I wanna be yours

Request: could you a friends w benefits fic with lee know x black f reader? like lee know got jealous bc of you hanging out w your guy best friend ( could be any one of the members) and lee know just fucks all his jealousy into you!!

Pairings: Minho × fem!reader

Warnings: smut MINORS DNI, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex (not recommended), overstimulation, swearing, degradation (sorta), dirty talk, fwb with Minho, dom!Minho, sub!reader

A/N: thank you for the request babyy. Alright I don't really write for any specific skintone even though I have dark skin myself, so I didn't give much of a description of skin tones or anything in this if you don't mind anonnie!

Lee Minho was an enigma, a sphinx, a puzzle you could try forever to solve but never can. And to read his emotions? That was simply an imposible feat.

And it surprised you how much you knew exactly when he was angry, or joyful, or even hiding that he had a fever.

It surprised the other boys greatly. You? A girl Minho met at dance class when he was perhaps 16? A year before he would go on to become dance leader of a world famous 4th gen boy group knows as Stray Kids? Yeah no way.

But you seemed to know Minho more than he seemed to know himself. You were- What was it called again? Oh yes.

Friends with benefits.

It enraged you. It maddened you. It drove you crazy. You craved him so much, to touch every part of his body. But you did that every night anyway. You wished fervently to touch his soul instead, to tell him, 'hey I like like you'.

So it was a mystery as to how you never noticed how petty and jealous Minho got whenever your skin was tainted by literally anyone else.

And he knew.

He knew that he probably shouldn't do it. You were a person of your own and he wasn't your boyfriend so why should he have any control over your personal life?

And yet a fire of jealousy burnt in him, when he found out that you had hung out with Hyunjin all day, instead of staying home with him. He had wanted to bake something with you, maybe those Ghibli cookies you had seen on the internet, but you had gently refused him, saying that you had promised to go get your nails down with Hyunjin. To say that he was offended would have been an understatement. Hyunjin? Over him?

But then again, he didn't own you. He wasn't someone you could kiss everyday and call your boyfriend. And that's why psychology is a powerful subject. To know about the feelings of people who called one another 'just friends' and yet had a magnetic force against between them, to have an urge to address each other not only sexually, but emotionally, that is true power.

"Well that was a nice trip." Hyunjin blew on his nails as his car stopped infront of your house, "Wanna do it sometime later?"

You smiled up at Hyunjin as you got down from his car, slamming the door shut and looking at his through the window.

"If Mr Lee Minho doesn't react like a sourpuss everytime I don't want to hang out with him, yeah I can hang out."

Hyunjin rolled his eyes at your statement. "He's in love with you!" He said in a sing-song voice before driving off, leaving you shaking your head and inserting your keys into your house's front door.

The familiar scent of cologne hit your nose as soon as you opened the door. Minho's cologne.

"And what the fuck are you doing in my house?" You deposited your bag onto the table, and marched upto the brown haired man sitting promptly on the couch and watching tv.

"Can't I visit your house?" Minho replied, not taking his eyes off of the tv, "I have a key."

"For emergencies Minho, you have it for emergencies." You sighed, taking the remote and shutting the tv off.

"I was watching that!" Minho glared at you, getting up to snatch the remote from your hands, which you quickly withdrew before he could.

"You have the biggest tv at your house, go watch it there." You grumbled, putting the remote down on the table.

You barely had any more time to process anything as Minho hands landed on your hips, maneuvering your body to fall forcefully against the couch, with him on top of you.

"Hyunjin's a handsome guy isn't he?" Minho said, brushing his fingers across your bra and carefully removing your bra, "So why don't you just go date him?"

Your scoff earned you a tight squeeze of your hips as Minho's hands worked fast to remove your leggings.

"Why would I want to date him?" You quizzed Minho, trying hard not to whimper as his bulge pressed against your panties.

"I don't know you always hang out with him."

"Jealous are we Minho?" You cocked a grin on your face at Minho, who glared at you and furrowed his brows.

Something about those four little words sent him into a tizzy of laughter. Pure, high-pitched, glorious laughter. You loved his laugh dearly, but you wouldn’t flatter him now. Not when you had him in the palm of your hand. At least, for the moment.

"Why should I be jealous of someone when I know you like me far more than you do him?" Minho shot back, his brows furrowed.

Your fingers traced his neck, his pecs, abs, until you felt his cock in your hands. He grunted softly, beautiful eyes fluttering as you touched him.

"You think I like you?" A blatant lie escaped your lips, making Minho's land on top of them. His kissed were always sweet, akin to something a bride would receive on her special day, but you never questioned it. He could have kissed you rough, aggressive, like the people in those porn videos do, but he never did.

He leaned in once more, this time, pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw, effectively silencing you. You tilted your head back, giving him better access to the crook of your neck. You sucked in a shaky breath as you felt the points of his teeth grazing feather light across the sensitive skin, goosebumps erupting on your skin and heat settling in your lower stomach. You could practically feel him smile against you at your reaction, always proud to make you putty between his hands.

"You're such a pathetic slut for me aren't you kitten?"

You threw him a half-hearted glare, not trusting your voice to deliver a retort in case it proved the point he was already trying to make. Instead, you pulled his face towards your own, locking him into a passionate kiss. You earned a particularly delicious groan as you gently dragged your tongue along his lower lip, silently prodding for access.

You whined into the kiss, causing the man to chuckle darkly, “What’s the matter, kitten? Needy are we?” He teased.

Minho's fingers went between you legs and he began rapidly playing with your clit. You moaned his name is cries loud enough for the neighbours to question.

"Oh?" Minho raised a brow at your actions, "You can't keep quiet for me can you kitten?"

Minho's finger flicked out against your clit, making you yelp and squeeze your thighs against his legs. Your grip on his curls tightened and you used them to try and pull him closer to your cunt. This time he ran his finger up to your clit and then back down and into you. You moaned, rocking your hips into his. Minho laughed, digging his hands into your hips, uncaring if he broke skin.

“More,” you moaned, wiggling your hips uselessly.

"Don't worry darling we'll get there." Minho chuckled, amused at how much you craved his touch.

The pace of his fingers fastened, as his middle finger drove across your clit, repeatedly assaulting the place Minho knew drove you crazy.

"Min- Min ah fuck!" A string of broken moans escaped your lips, as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. Your mind has forgotten all about the fact that you were mad at him, your attention now only on the way his fingers fit inside your pussy, like a glove.

The knot in your stomach tightened quickly, making your hips jerk erratically against Minho's hand. Your breathing was heavy as choked sounds escaped your lips.

"You're so adorable kitten you know that?" Minho pressed a kiss onto your chest, "Always such a good whore for me."

When an answer didn't come from your mouth, Minho leaned down to you, his erection pressing against your pussy, making you whimper.

"Do you need me that bad kitten?" He growled into your ear.

"Say it, say you need me."

The pressure on your pussy was too much for you. You had the urge to refuse him, to tell him to just pick himself up and fuck off. But your mind was currently being controlled by your pussy.

"I need you.." you let out a low mumble

"Couldn't hear you kitten." Minho made his way to get up, making your hands fly to his collar and pull him back

"Yes- fuck I need you Min!"

"Then have me." He answered simply.

You hurried to undo his belt as he was fondling your breasts while placing kisses along your collar bones. He lifted his hips just enough for you to pull his pants down. He took a nipple into his mouth as you palmed his bulge through his boxers.

You freed his rock hard erection from his boxers and stroked it a few times. Minho let out a soft moan at the pleasurable feeling.

Minho settles between your legs again, sliding his hands under your thighs to gently manipulate you upwards. His bare cock slides through your slick folds, the head catching on your clit and making you groan in unrestrained want. You reach out to grab his body, dizzy with desire, dragging your hand down his abdomen to angle his cock right towards your aching hole.

“ah-ah Minho....” You lift your hips and slowly begin to sink down on his cock. His fingers dig into your skin, you place your hands on his chest.

You start to rock back and forth and up and down, just the way you know drives Minho mad. He doesn’t bother to hold back from moaning his approval. You lean down after a few minutes, so your lips are almost touching his ear, and with each movement of your hips, you say his name like a prayer.

“You’re all nice and wet for me huh sweetheart? You treat me so well” Minho hummed as he ran his cock through your folds. You nodded dumbly, your eyes trained on his cock as he teased you with a dumb smile on his face.

“Please Minho-” you whined as he watched in amusement. He hushed you as he pushed into you slowly, a heavy moan leaving his lips as he bit his lower lip. He furrowed his eyebrows as he felt you clench around him but before you could tell him how good he felt, Minho began to pound you into the couch.

You moaned at his heavy slams, each of them knocking the wind out of you as he bullied your cunt. Animalistic moans filled your ears as Minho rambled to himself.

“Why’d you have to feel so fucking good, huh? Makin’ me feel like wanting to be your boyfriend?” Minho groans. His hips drive into yours sharply, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot with each move. He finds a rhythm with ease, sinking deep into you with each stroke of his body.

"Min ahh-ahh fuck-fuck fuck!,” you babble, unable to string together a coherent sentence as your body takes it all in — the heat and pressure of his body on yours, his hands roaming up your body, the feeling of him inside you, so deep that your pelvis is flush against his. You can feel your slick dripping to your inner thighs, to his balls, making a mess of it all. Worth it.

Minho could see it on your face, you were close. He was already learning what each scrunch of your eyebrow and the pitch of your moans meant. “you're mine and mine only got it kitten?” he huffed, "No one else gets this."

You clench around him as you feel yourself near your climax, and Minho groans, but his rhythm remains unfaltering, relentless in his pursuit of pleasure— both yours and his. He thumbs at your clit, pushing you over the edge as an orgasm spreads across your body.

"Minho 'm cumming!" You scream.

"That's it, cum for me baby, cum all over my cock." Minho groans in response. God, he really did love you.

Pulsing warmth spreads from your cunt, drowning you in waves of pleasure as your vision whites out at the edges.

You couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh as Minho plopped down next to you. Once again you were buried in his arms, both of you a mess as he ran a hand down your shoulder.

"Min?"

"Hmm?"

"Were- were you really jealous of Hyunjin?" You asked him, a cheeky smile decorating your face.

Minho stayed silent for a minute before answering. "It's childish of me, but yeah I-I was."

Silence filled the room, as you relaxed into Minho's hold and he did the same thing, neither of you willing to say anything.

"Baby?" Minho spoke up at last, to which you hummed in response.

"I really do love you you know that right?"

His words brought shock to your mind, but you simultaneously felt a wave of relief wash over you.

"I love you too Min."

"A date tomorrow then?"

276 notes · View notes

simplyreveries · 9 months

Note

Hi ^^ I read through some of your stuff and I really love your writing, can I request sleepover/cuddling headcanons for Riddle, Azul, Jamil, and Ortho? (And additionally, if it's okay could Idia be in Orthos platonically? Ignihyde sleepover :3)

sleepover; riddle, azul, jamil, ignihyde

thank you!<3

riddle rosehearts

now riddle can be stickler about these types of things but if you plead him enough, he can't help but give in. he does have habits and a pretty strict bedtime routine for himself- you're going to have to help him loosen up just a little bit. he can't help but feel his heart melt when he sees you cozied up in pajamas.

he does like to get some schoolwork done before rest because he's a nerd or whatever, but you can at least do your own thing and chat with him while he does. it's mostly you rambling and talking about something stupid the trio did earlier that day with him humming in acknowledgement or him shaking his head with a small smile of amusement.

though he chastises others for staying later than necessary... he will indulge in a few games with you, something like card games, he only knows a few so you may need to explain how some of them work. he mostly sees ace showing others them, but he doesn't play much himself. but riddle loves puzzles the most and he wants to be able to do something together rather than compete each other.

at the end of it once you initiate holding (ya he's the little spoon what about it...) him he's hesitant but turns into a puddle of mush. and please play with his hair, he'd hold onto you tighter. also, you know how once you get sleepy and overtired you open up easily? yeah that's kind what ends up happening. it's a good thing though because that just means he feels safe with you.

azul ashengrotto

hes the one to suggest you staying, during a more tired and overworked state as you came to visit him after mostro lounges hours in his office he turns clingy (i mean more so than usual) and doesn't want to let you go. if you even try to get up when hes holding onto you with his eyes closed he'll hold you tighter.

you only laugh and help each other to get ready for bed. he was curious when he saw any kind of skincare you do, he does that too but he still doesnt know that much with these things in the land. so now there's even more perks to staying over because now you get: azul without glasses and him begrudgingly letting you put a facemask on him. he was weirded out and even found them to be silly look, but boy was he THANKFUL when he felt his skin right after. not to mention he has a newfound love for you putting the skincare on for him, your touch gives him chills, but he wants more.

i bet you his bed is literally the softest thing ever... like you're sleeping well tonight. azul has got the silk sheets and everything. its nice until you feel how naturally cold azul's body is when he touches you and puts his arms around you. he prefers laying in a position where you're facing each other, your faces are practically right in front of one other. azul likes to rub your arm while hes trying to sleep... very soothing and comforting would recommend.

jamil viper

it's actually pretty common for you to decide to spend the night over rather than going all the way back to ramshackle. jamil isn't exactly complaining either he wants all his time with you. it's so pretty to see him with his hair all the way down and of course he wants you to play with it when he's holding you. he enjoys it when you offer to brush it for him.

you two usually play a lot of games with each other, cards, board games or mancala which he enjoys the most with you. he doesn't go easy on you even if it's supposed to be a simple and chill time together because hes a stupid bastard like that. he'll give some airy laugh and say "you probably shouldn't have done that" pointing out how you couldve done better against him.

if you're feeling hungry he'll cook something so good up for the two of you. he doesn't mind whether or not you join in cooking it to or watching him and chatting with him as he whips something that you just know smells heavenly up.

once you two are ready for bed though jamil prefers to hold you against him. he sometimes loves just burying his face into the crook of your neck, he'll kiss you lightly here and there too, its actually very sweet.

ignihyde

oh gosh any sleepover with these two are so fun. there's literally so much to do with them and so much technology to make use of in the dormitory that its insane. but of course, you guys spend A LOT of your time that night playing videogames together. that and idia pulls out his favorite board game and him and ortho are like a beast at those it feels so unfair. don't let those brothers team against you.

you get special privileges with them, so you get access to all of idias candy but you're also going to be eating what his diet consists of for the night- sodas and microwavable meals like ramen, of course.

surprisingly, you’ll end up seeing a more talkative side of idia— I mean he feels comfortable around you and if you bring up any of his interests, he can get really passionate about it.

okay but I totally feel like ortho lowkey has a lot of knowledge and dirt on the students around him. so, if you're want to know anything interesting about your classmates ask him, he doesn't really have any qualms on sharing that to you, he does it with such an innocent smile too as he happily shares the drama.

you and idia would probably pass out some point, watching a movie or playing some videogame, sprawled out on the floor, thankfully you won't have to deal with ignihydes cold hard floors because idia has a whole collection of blankets and pillows to share with you.

#disney twst #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst wonderland #riddle x reader #azul x reader #jamil x reader #idia x reader #ignihyde

347 notes · View notes

hobiespick · 1 month

Note

Heya! I was wondering if you got any headcanons for Sam Winchester x werewolf! Reader, except, reader can actually turn whenever she (or gn if you want) wants, and the only real thing a full moon does is force her to be in her werewolf form (aka force her to keep the wolf teeth and claws out for no reason)

The thing that should not be

Pairings : Sam Winchester x reader

a/n : FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, HI, HELLO, IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG I SUCK SO BAD, IM SO SORRY. My requests aren't open (yet) but its not even your fault I should have 100% specified that, but this is my first ever ask and ur also one of my favourite moots and I didn't want to dissapoint so here are some fuckinf cute Sam x Werewolf!Reader. I felt the carnal need to write a metric fuckton of context before getting into the actual headcanons (which are very long I have no idea if they can be considered as hcs) so the reader gets beaten up by earth-shattering plot purposes :3. Sammy juicy headcanons start when you see the '🧿' emoji if you don't wanna read the context (melodramatic sigh). And yes the title of the fic is based on the metallica song :). as always, enjoy my shitty thoughts <3

Warnings: angst with comfort (no don't clap it's fine, omg ur makin me blush); guess who joined the cool kids club and uses "____." instead of "Y/n"; literally a flash of gore, shitty dad(s), fake death, mentions of suicide, Sam looks at you and goes DO YOU WANT M-; Dean being himself; reader is also a hunter and has been raised like that (fml); Dean makes a twillight refrence; reader is frankenstein coded in the most nuanced way, Mary Shelley please don't haunt me; Dean is very happy to have a bestfriend/sister :)

word count: 8,102

- Okay, so for starters, the fact that you aren't actually a monster (you don't get the urge to kill or wreak havoc) is actually a supernatural miracle.

Your parents haven't talked to you since you called them the night you were hunting a werewolf and told them, horror-struck between sniffles and voice cracks, that it bit you, and you’re going to turn, and you’re horrified, and you’re going to drive home to put a pistol in your father's hand and hopefully stop you from turning in the thing you shouldn't be.

Your father replied, after successfully not saying a word besides "Hey, kid-" before getting cut off by you and your hiccups. He sank his teeth into the inside of his cheek, enough to draw blood.

"You are not to come home; your mother won't bear to see you like this."

Your father objected before telling you you can finish the job by yourself; you always have.

He abruptly ended the phonecall like you weren't his daughter, more like an annoying salesman. You don't know what he'll say to your mother after that call; that was the hospital, and you tragically died? "Died a hero.." Your father would say when he described another hunter's tragic passing at the dinner table—paranormal tragic passing. So paranormal that your mother had knocked on wood and prayed it wouldn't get you or your family.

So you don't call, It's really me, dad. I'm fine, I figured it out by myself. How could you? after him suggesting it's better to kill yourself than take a shot at finding a solution together? You would rather have him believe you're dead. Or at least cry with you; it's okay, honey. come home; it'll be okay, spend the last days at home, please-

The last word you get from him is a text message you are too quick to open on your flip-phone to see the next day. When you rub at your eyebags after tracking down a witch, the witch. It was the second day when everything about you felt off; you were squemish, anxious, and haven't left your motel room all day. if you get this—the message read, "if you get this?!" if you get this, if you get this, if you get this—your brain repeats it over and over, taking the words apart and tattooing itself that phrase, because it held much more meaning to it than your father probably didn't intend; he would hear it if he read it before sending, you thought, that little 'if' haunting and tormenting like a damn demon. if you haven't already killed yourself; if you haven't already turned into something that took my daughter, my pride and joy, away from me; if you haven't already died–

- speaking to you like he's directly referring to the disease in your veins. Your brain moves on and reads the next ridiculous waste of your attention. I wanted you to know I told your mother that it was the hospital I was talking to yesterday, calling that you’re dead, house fire, so no remains to pick up—Damn, you know him or what? Even your fake death is stripped away from it's respect—"no remains to pick up"—like a toppled statue, a monument of what was once a hero (in dad's old-fashioned monster-hunting world), shattered and insignificant, no longer breathing or living, if you ever even had. Or a tree struck by lighting, again, "no remains to pick up" no meaningful remains or genuinely nothing, just a memory of another young hunter who died 'tragically'. You could imagine your tombstone with an even dumber epitaph to match it and an empty or nonexistent grave lying six feet underneath for closure. Your eyes move on, there will be a funeral with no grave, of course, I just wanted you to know that your mother and everyone else is devastated, we miss you, sugar. I love you, kid. Your father had overestimated your suicidal tendencies, and the way he didn't try to save his daughter in order to not go against the rules and possibilities of hunting only showed you how much he loves you.

So you track down the witch. You barely make it to her doorstep when she opens it with a too reassuring smile, saying your name and that she expected you, even going as far as offering you tea after opening the door and letting you in, to which you declined. You're not an idiot. But you do sit down, forced, when she, Willow Thorne, won't have you, a guest, standing up, a whole damn hunter being forced to sit down and accept being treated kindly like you deserve. When you walked in, the entire image of a satanic worshipper who sold her soul to demons and hexed everybody—that you betted all your life savings fitted the description of Willow shattered and laughed in your face.

Her home was filled with plants hanging and resting in every corner she could place; various crystals were sitting in cute porcelain plates like candy, candles of different colors on a bookshelf filled with books like The Language of Flowers, Astronomy for Beginners, and Sigils. Even more crystals, bigger and taller ones on a purple tablecloth. The house is adorned in shades of dark purple, violet, green, and warm colors. This home was a whimsigothic musem that would send your thirteen-year-old self into a shrieking, excited mess. Your parents never let you own crystals or a tarot deck; they were too afraid you'd turn darkside one way or another. well, mommy, daddy, if you could see me right now with lycanthrope blood pumping through my veins.

Willow Thorne is a wiccan type of witch; she does not receive her power from demons; she receives her magic from nature and probably practices her witchcraft the way she sees fit. This doesn't help build back the distrust you were trained to have in her. You flinch when you feel a tail curling around your bouncing leg; you glance down, and your eyes are met with a black cat's green ones—this must be her familiar—the little words on his purple collar reading 'Creek'. She gives you another flash of her warm smile and starts talking about her cat. This can't be real. Your every instinct screams that you should take her down or that she will take you down. Your options shrink the longer you stay. You keep a hand anxiously fiddling with your belt, thinking about the gun in your waistband. She's deceiving you with honeyed words and unassuming appearance; who the fuck knows, maybe the cat is manipulating you too. Throwing up would be the calmest reaction you could have right now, because the thoughts in your head started going at each other's throats and doubting in this situation could get you killed. Thoughts like, fuck her, her cozy house with purple witchy twitchy girl interior, and her affectionate black cat she mentioned she rescued when nobody would because of superstitions—you curse in your head, you're not actually upset at her although you do not let your guard down, you're upset at yourself for being so easily coaxed into trusting her, it's all too easy, and it is intimidating you.

You're pretty sure you're gonna rip your vocal cords out of frustration and an overall feeling of overwhelmingness; everything seems to piss you off today, even more than usual. How are you good?! All bright and beaming with nothing but positivity. You're not supposed to be good! I have believed all my life you aren't!..are you like me too? A thing that should not be? Before breaking down and crying about your situation, and if you did, she would make you that tea and rub your back with her hand that radiated ease and made you slump your shoulders with relief.

Before you get other fun thoughts like Am I on the wrong side of the war? You start discussing bussiness since you forgot that's what your here for. Even if your eyes water like a little kid after being scolded for something they didn't do, your voice is nowhere near close to sounding like one. You demand a cure, bargaining for a deal to stop the lycanthropy metamorphosis you feel taking over little by little and make you human again. If she can't, you have a gun with silver bullets in your trunk and your will written out, but by now it probably has no significance.

Much to your disappointment, she—Willow—insisted you called her, tells you she cannot take away your curse, but she can soothe it a little, keep it in a cage locked deep into your subconscious. In exchange, she could ask for fucking anything in the world, but she wants loyalty.

"Define, loyalty." You ask through gritted teeth, yeah, that will stop the tears, definitely, great intimidation skills, _____ .

"I'm talking about respect, mutual aid, when it all comes down for me, when I get threatened by a hunter, I want you to be there. I need you to have my back." She admitted, studying your eyes trying to reslove the conflict in them, anything that could give her hope. You couldn't explain this to anyone, ever, Yeah I almost turned into a werewolf once but my witch friend did a ritual on me, so i'm all good now.

Willow is now sitting on an ottoman facing her couch, where you're sitting. Her hands fidget with her bracelets until she clasps them together, and she is leaning towards you. Her gentle tone is imbued with gentle authority that commands her mutual respect without making her overbearing. Keeping steady eye contact, she is discussing serious matters with a serious tone like she should. You can't lie, it catches you off-guard, it herds you in the corner and softly shakes your shoulders, forcing you to listen.

You'd be every synonym in the dictionary for the word 'idiot' if you hadn't accepted this deal. You shake hands, and the warm smile she wears causes a domino effect, making you do the same, even if you had been crying.

It's a funky ritual. She makes you lay on the couch while she lights all sorts of candles; she closes the curtains even though it's already dark so light cannot come in. The only light present is the salt lamp in the far corner and the numeruous lighted candles. She even has to kick Creek out of the room, much to the cat's protests outside the door. They slowly come to a stop as he finds something that's more interesting than whatever ritual his owner is cooking up with a guest—that he feels drawn to for whatever reason. You feel nervous, and she feels nervous too, because you are. Willow reassures you and tells you that after it ends you will pass out for a while, but that's fine because she says you can spend the night if she isn't pushing it.

The celling becomes your newest fascination, and you study every small bump and gray spot in order to distract your mind from... well, thinking. Not for the ritual, but for reassurance, she lies and says you have to hold her hand. Her warm hand against yours seems to punch out of your lungs every doubt whether this will work or not and the sadness your father produced with an unfatherly amount of bluntness and cold parenting that was the verbal equivalent of stabbing your spine and twisting the knife, but you can't pull out the knife, well, you can try, but it will hurt even worse and it will infect spreading yellow or purple marks around it–. She—her hand—has the ability to make you breathe again without feeling like you have leg irons around your neck dragging it down and hands squashing your lungs to bits. She speaks incantations in what you know is latin and instructs you to close your eyes. You swear you hear a candle stop burning in the process—something you can't physically hear, but you had. You can make out a few words (your ears keep ringing and something is happening because you hear her voice; it's distorted and weird, but she told you, strictly, not to open your eyes, so you don't). Words like: lupus-wolf, tollere-take away? You're not sure on that one; that's what three straight days of crying might do to one, mutare- which means change. Okay, that was a nice distraction now what el–

You feel the imprint of a huge dog-like paw pressing into your Adam's apple and cutting off your breath. She obviously takes notice by the way you're writhing and choking and swatting away at nothing—something you're trying to fight even with closed eyes, but there is nothing there. Your palm doesn't make contact with anything. Quickly, Willow chants something you're too busy choking to catch. The pressure on your throat dissolves, and you can breathe again. She calms her own breath and squeezes your hand. When she doesn't feel you squeeze back, she remembers that you're supposed to pass out after the spell. Willow drapes a blanket on you and goes off to order something to eat. When she opens the living room door, Creek doesn't hesitate to run in and settle on your chest. The cat purrs as he patiently waits for you to wake up.

You wake up fifteen minutes later with the smell of food flooding your nostrils, stronger than it has ever been before. It's almost like it's sitting right under your nose. You open your eyes, and the smell has a color, and you can clearly see how it snakes its way in from the kitchen into the half-open door. Your nails feel heavier than usual. This is hopefully a fever dream. But the food isn't here, nor is Willow; you can hear her humming a song in the kitchen, Voodoo Chile by Jimi Hendrix.

The weight of the shadow on your chest brings you back to earth, and you run your hands through his black fur with closed eyes as your head falls back onto the couch. The feeling of fur on your fingertips feeding to your serotonin levels rising. Creek seems to know what it's like to be disowned by your own father and forced to have a fake death in order to 'die' in a way that won't make your mother think you were cursed, or worse, that the whole family is now. Creek notices you're awake and gets off you, but not before making biscuits.

"Thanks, Creek." You mumble before pushing yourself up in a sitting position with a groan.

You can feel the rich, velvety, dark green rug beneath your socks; you would have appreciated it properly if you could actually see the details woven into it. Your eyes keep focusing and unfocusing like they're getting adjusted, and the room doesn't seem so dark anymore. God, how long did you pass out? As you tried to gather your thoughts (if the spell was easy on you enough to actually leave some), memories of the ritual came flooding back—the chanting in latin, the flickering candle(s), the punching smell of herbs, the murder attempt from a wolf spirit/ghost?! who the hell knows anymore? Now you were wide awake, and everything felt different. If it weren't for the fucking ritual that was just performed on you, you would've blamed the faint ringing in your years, shitty eyesight, and banging headache on a terrible hangover or a cold so bad it would make your throat ache for the tea your mom would make you when your immune system failed you. She promised she would teach me how to make it. Your grief echoed to you.

You rub at your temples at thats when you notice why did your nails feel heavier than usual. You had fucking claws, well, not animal claws, but they are honorably elongated and sharper than they had ever been. As you looked up from your lap, your eyes fell on a mirror.

A tall mirror leaning on its back legs, with black edges and details on the rim, you would again appreciate if you had the ability to see a single thing in the distance.

Your eyes widened, mortified, seeing yourself. It looked like one of your parents's worst nightmares. Something out of a dream your mom would have—a nightmare so nasty and vivid she would be forced by her paranoia to get up and check that you're still in bed sleeping soundly.

Your eyes were no longer the familiar color you have seen in the mirror or in old photos of your family members you've grown to love. The shade wasn't even close to yours; crazy how one small change made such a big difference in your appearance. Your pupils were slitted vertically, shrinking only to dilate a little once again, getting adjusted. You slowly got up on foal legs and fell on your knees in front of the mirror. Even if you didn't think it was night because you weren't seeing darkness, the light of the moon shone down on the mirror and floor thanks to the now open curtains. That's when your vision stopped unfocusing and finally cleared.

You were now looking at yourself. It felt incredibly alien and familiar at the same time; you looked at yourself every day, whether it was the mirror in your bathroom at home, a crappy motel one that faced the bed (which you cover up with a scoff each time), or a reflection in the car of your vanity mirror checking yourself before going in a precinct, pretending to be a reporter (the things middle-aged pigs would confess to a doe-eyed girl from the press..).

You gently pulled the corner of your upper lip only to reveal your enlarged and sharpened front canines. Your hand fell and instead went to cover your mouth in order to muffle your sobs. You must have done a horrible job because the second you slapped the hand over your mouth, you heard Willlow gasp as if she felt it too.

She drops the food she was unpacking and runs in, taking a moment to calm her heaving chest in the doorway; her hands were holding it like an earthquake had shaked her up; even her round glasses had slipped and rested on the tip of her nose.

"_______, you woke up!" she exclaims cheerfully. "I was just—how do you fee-?"

She kept stuttering and cutting herself off. Willow didn't need to say anything else; she saw the tears welling up in your eyes and felt the same shock you did from the kitchen.

🧿🧿🧿- later on, you have to bump into the Winchesters one way or another

- and it's exactly on a full moon when this time the ball isn't in your court and you don't get to decide whether you turn or not.

- your claws are sharp, your eyes have changed their original color completely with your pupils vertically slit, and your teeth (conveniently) remain the same; only a few of your front canines are enlarged and sharpened.

- as for senses, it's downright spectacular.

- you can hear deer stepping on tree branches, foxes running, and owls hooting when you're driving by the forest

- you smell how many people are in a room

- you have night vision (yes, your eyes to the flashy thingamajiggy when someone blinds you with their flashlight).

- as a hunter, you already know that your claws and fangs can rip out a human heart.

- ironically, as this whole situation is, you hunt alone on the principle that you don't long for companionship as some lycanthropes do.

- you've turned into a literal killing machine with no instinct to kill, so hunting with others is off the table since at the first sign of a threat (they think you are one, but you really aren't), a hunter exterminates.

- you meet the Winchesters on a ghoul hunt

- you have taken the case before them, but when you couldn't get anywhere with identifying whatever evil being was tormenting the locals with their mere presence, you thought about ditching it since it doesn't look like your type of thing and took the consideration that maybe humans were fucking around this time.

- so when you heard the FBI are in town investigating the case (detective Page and Plant), you placed that town in your rear view mirror; they got it covered..right?

- but something didn't feel right- it wasn't the shame of leaving a case with your tail between your legs (pun intended) with the weak motive, 'Maybe humans are really fucking around this time.'

- something wasn't right, so even if you were tired, you abruptly stopped the car and went over your research spread out on the flat of your closed trunk

- the slits of your eyes dance over the words on your laptop, your papers, and an old lore book you fought tooth and nail for. When you realized it's a ghoul you're dealing with, you turned the car around and went over every speed limit like hellhounds were scratching at your tires. It was your job to not let anybody else get hurt or someone else's grave be violated

- as the light of the moon shined down on you and your wild eyes looked back at you from the rear view mirror, you knew you couldn't have anyone see you, you had to be invisible

- *time skip* (as much as it pains me 'cause i am a sucker for details :))- you swoop in time to save the Winchesters

- and if they weren't tied up, they would've started fighting you too, because why was there a whole ass werewolf fist fighting a ghoul?? John trained them like Spartan warriors, but nothing prepared them for something like this.

- so they sit there like:??????

- they watch you take out a fucking ghoul all by yourself

- the head of the ghoul's person they're impersonating rolls onto the floor. You have to remind yourself it's not a real person; it's an evil spirit who kills to feed

- by the time you wipe the blood off your face, smearing it a bit in the process, and cut the ties holding the hunters loose, Sam is unnable to look away from your slit eyes adorned by a strange color that strangely suits you

- literally hearts in his fawn brown eyes like you still don't have blood on your face and you aren't trying to catch your breath; also, you took a nasty punch to your cheek, and he's pretty sure it's gonna leave a bruise, but he totally doesn't care, why? why do you ask?

- by the way Sam is scrunitizing you, and oh yeah, Sam is scrunitizing you, you're sure you're gonna have to ditch since you've been in this situation before and you know how it always ends

- there was no 'explaining yourself' to hunters when they saw you under the full moon or when they saw you change because you had to.

Before you can even open your mouth they have their methaphorical pitchforks sharpened and torches lit up, prepared to slaughter you, and if you're honest, you can't even blame them for it because you would've done the same.

- Dean rubs his wrist with his right hand; the imprint of the rope is still fresh on his skin like a tattoo. Sam focuses on not choking when you catch him staring.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean thinks out loud. You take a big lungs-exploding sigh and give a shot at introducing yourself since they seem more civilized than most hunters are

- Sam geeks out about you

He doesn't question you because he is suspicious (he has the right to be but surprisingly isn't). He has to feed his noisy, information-hungry brain or he will spontaneously combust

- "Are your senses even more enhanced during the full moon, or are they the same?"

- "Can you smell when somebody is afraid? Like the hormones from their pores?"

- "Is it annoying to always have super hearing? Like has it ever caused you to be..I don't know.. Anxious? It did?" He mourns over you, trying to imagine himself in your situation but possibly can't.

- "I'm really sorry you had to go through a whole..change all by yourself, but it just shows how strong you are, some don't even make it 'til the end."

- After you were done explaining to Sam (to which he gladly sat himself down and listened) how sometimes you genuinely consider you're inevitably going to become what you hunt and how in the beginning you and your senses have butted heads, how you had no idea how to go through it without having panic attacks because the click of a doorknob was sensitive to your hearing like a veteran was scared of fireworks, how you accidentally ripped a motel door off its hinges, a result of you being slightly irritated, still getting acoustumed to your abilities. Dean would go.

"..Do dog whistles work on y–" Before getting an elbow in the ribs by a glaring Sam.

- more shit Dean would ask you for the sake of his own little curiosity

- "Is 'bitch' even more offensive now?"

- "Who do you think would win in a fight? You or Jacob Black?"

- "What do I smell like? Y'know, since you can pick up on scents and alldat."

- Dean calls you Cujo

- It's the one nickname you can get behind, asking him what he thought about the book, and he's like, "Oh, I watched the movie, but i know a little. Sammy used to rattle on and on about his books when he was younger."

- if you think about it, an alais doesn't sound so bad in theory or practice while hunting.

- it's secretive, the boys don't need to divulge your real name, and it's actually high-key kickass (I literally watched Cujo just so I know what I'm talking about, a.k.a. the second reason why it took a millenium and a half for me to post these; the first reason is that i suck)

- Dean is thrilled to get to call you that- he gets this fucking smirk, like a dad about to drop the worst joke ever made on everyone, you and Sam brace yourselves for what's coming with matching eyerolls-

"Let's fuck em' up, Cujo."

- "Cujo, dude, you're just itching to raise a little hell right now, aren't you?"

- "Uh- a bacon cheeseburger, soda, yo, Cujo whaddya want? My treat >:]."

- "Cujo, put on that song you were listening to; I had it in my head the entire hunt." (I didn't mention the genre or artist bc I like to imagine Dean listening to everyone's fav category; ex. I imagine Dean screaming bikini kill lyrics whenever i'm sad)

- if you thought the 'canine/wolf' teasing stopped here, you're so painfully wrong

- Dean made you a mixtape, because that's his love language apparently, with only songs that are about werewolves

- I feel like it took him a longer time to find a suitable title than the songs themselves

- he has all of the possible picks on a piece of paper that stays in the pocket of his fifty pound leather jacket.

- the titles are: Songs to transform into; The howlin' hits; Songs that will make you wag your tail—that one is crossed out because he knows you will make him eat the tape if he does settle on it; Love at first bite; and finally the one he settled for is Songs you can sink your teeth into. Dean smiled at his work, it didn't feel like a prank anymore it was more like a gift and he didn't feel any ugly emotion or insecurity try to pull him back into not getting attached to you.

The final touch was a note saying

"Hey, Cujo, thought you might want these howlin' hits whenever you need to tune the world out.

P.S. : Sam told me to add one of the songs, it's that punk stuff you like - Dean"

- The songs he prudently picked out are these : Of Wolf and Man by Metallica; Bark at the Moon by Ozzy Osbourne; I Was A Teenage Werewolf by The Cramps; Wolf Moon by Type O Negative; Witch Wolf by STYX; Run with the Wolf by Rainbow; Lycanthropy by G.B.H and others.

- you accidentally made a kid cry once- a ball was literally flying towards you and you caught it just in time, thanks to your reflexes

- instinctively, you turned around in time and caught the ball as your claws grew and sank into the inanimate object

- it's all "Nice relfexes, _____" praise from Dean and proud and shy smiles from Sam until the owner of the ball starts sobbing in front of you

- it's a kid, a boy with red hair, no older than six years of age

- but we all know Dean's charm is basically made for this

- so he handles both the kid and his mom (flirting with a milf all day, poor Dean)

- you keep apologizing to the kid and the mom, but Dean just waves you off; you don't understand his generosity until Sam tells you that you accidentally secured Dean's hookup for tonight.

- Since Dean is not coming, not until early morning, nor is he there to call you and Sam 'dorks', you and his younger brother take advantage of it.

- you guys have a movie night with the most random movies ever

- it is chaotic

- from rom-coms you switch to a world war II documentary, then you watch re-runs of House MD on tv.

- Dean stumbles in at like five something a.m. and takes a picture of you and Sam snuggling under a blanket while the tv light casts shadows of orange and cold colors on your defenseless expressions.

- but can somebody actually blame you? Or Sam, for that matter?

- honorably want to mention your body heat is also enhanced

- You and Sam were sitting with your sides pressed into each other

- you were radiating pure furnace body heat, how could he not be sleepy??

- but that's not the only reason Sam knocks out so heavily

- it's you he's sitting down with (relaxing for once in his life) watching a ridiculous episode of House with thirteen ads rolling every ten minutes accompanied by lazy talking as if you're not debating books only you and morally grey forty-year-olds read (where that Kansas drawl of his is much more audible and pretty), after a marathon of fatally random movies

- younger Sam who had trouble going to sleep/getting some shut-eye because Dean and John are out late on a hunt.

- Sam especially couldn't fall asleep because Dean wasn't there

- it was a different story when Dean was at the age where he couldn't hunt but he could use a pistol and take care of his little brother

- both of them in a relatively warm motel room, alone (since John fucked off to god-knows-where, to hunt a monster they are never to breathe in the direction of as a conversation subject.)

- little Sammy (age where he believed nothing could beat his older brother) could peacefully fall asleep knowing Dean stays up and watches over him like a hawke, reading comic books by the tv light

- where little Dean keeps chanting in his head what Sammy is supposed to do after eating his dinner.

- Watch tv or look at the comic with me (Sammy can't read yet), brush his teeth, then tuck him in bed.

- now pre-teen Sam can hardly sleep

- he is plagued/tormented by flashing images his overthinking big brain mades of a thousand situations where his family got hurt, if not even killed

- Sam's grip on the shotgun is shaking; it shakes even harder when John's bark booms over his shoulder, right into his ear.

- "Sammy, dammit, what are you going to do when a demon breaks through the door and me and your brother aren't there to protect you?!"

- but Sam isn't twelve anymore

- he's a responsible adult

- snuggled beside you and denying any eepy allegations you decide to accuse him of

- so, the heat you contribute, the soft speaking on the tv, the darkness of the room, you being there is enough to lull Sam to sleep

- studies show you feel sleepy around the people you trust ;)

- the position you two fell asleep in cannot be described in any other word than childish

- somehow you would catch two kids, sleeping over at one of the other's houses, knocked out, and snoring in the same bed after watching a horror movie

- on one of the two queens the motel room contributes (the one closest to the tv) you and Sam have made this fluffy nest full of pillows, a huge blanket, plus a random quilt Bobby pulled out of thin air and gave it to you when he heard you complaining about the petal-thin blankets motels have during cold ass weather.

- When you both lied down on the bed with your legs greedily streched out, backs pressed against the headboard, and your head is resting on the wall while Sam, magically, was still able to hold his up after the very long day all of you endured. You predicted one of you wouldn't survive being in each other's presence and make it out not asleep, and god, you hoped it was you.

- Sam's breathing slows down after a while of comfortable silence, and you’re sure he's dying until you spare one quick glance and see him, downright snoozing with his lips parted without a care in the world, ghosts and eerie phenomenons weren't bothering or needing him now.

- during all of the movies and documentary and fuckin lazy intellectual commentary nobody else would have the patience to discuss with you or Sam, he somehow migrated on the bed/nest with his side flush against yours, like a magnet to another; it was inevitable not to stick together, literally.

- your shoulder was now pressed into his forearm, your head no longer resting uncomfortably, and his temple is resting on the top of your head.

- but (unfortunately) you weren't hugging or anything- like a mirror or a copycat, Sam has his arms crossed, just like you, so maybe that's why you didn't wake up full on cuddling, that does sound good though your brain mourns

- When you do wake up, the only slight change you notice is that you're sleeping on your side..so is Sam. You're facing Sam's neck and chin, and up close and personal, you can actually count the too-sexy amount of moles he modestly posesses. His arm serves the role of a pillow underneath his head, and the other is resting with his palm down facing the mattress.

- with Sam taking up the entire attention of your senses, it takes an emmbarassing while for you to hear the shower running, Dean; did he see you both like this? Was he going to mention it? Your gut fills with a small dose of embarrassement, preparing you for what's yet to come, and it protests at that.

- much displeasure from your senses to your brain and your heart that wanted to breathe Sam in more as he (hopefully) breathes you out, you turn on your other side, unconsciously careful not to disturb Clifford over here, and you try to determine what time it is from your surroundings alone.

- the light blue sneaking its way through the dark closed curtains and the slight chill in the air points all arrows to seven or eight in the morning, you could go back to sleep.

- Dean wasn't just feeling gracious; he didn't and wasn't even planning on sparing you or Sam

- that day, when he separately gets the both of you alone, he has the exact same conversation with different but not so different people.

-"You should've seen the two of you this morning when I came in, two kittens snoring together, it was fuckin' adorable." Dean teased–

—Monday, 13:34 p.m. — as he tossed his clothes into one of the laundromat's washing machines, making Sam paralyze in his seat as his fingers started fidgeting with the edges of his hoodie.

"You did?.." He inquires, not knowing what exactly Dean saw just this morning. Sam only woke up a little after you went back to sleep. He swore his cheek must have burned a hole through the pillow with how hard he was blushing. You were so close. There was a good distance between the edge of the bed and you. So your back was flush against his chest. If you're wondering where his arm went, it was around your waist. Sam—your own personal seatbelt. He probably thinks it's his fault too. Dean never ceased to describe Sam as a 'cuddlebug'.

"Uh-huh" Dean hums a confirmation, acting casual, scarily casual. Sam feels the teasing in Dean's tone; it's there, but Dean is not fully teasing yet, like he wants Sam to confess something first after boiling in his embarrassement for long enough.

—Monday, 20:02 p.m. — as he pulled the Impala into the driveway of a fast-food place you were so invested in you even forgot the name of; you froze and looked at him, searching for any emotion that might give him away, but Dean was a brick wall, a slight very Dean siginificant parted lips smirk paired with squinted eyes over the wheel, carefully driving into the driveway. Even the car seemed to betray you in your moment of weakness because you swear the volume is lower than it was a few seconds ago. Ozzy Osbourne's laugh can still be heard from the speakers, even if it's barely audible over your racing thoughts or your hearing trying its hardest to pick up on Dean's thoughts. The rythym of the drums seems to sync up with your heartbeat, or the other way around, you're not sure. Over every little sound, there still seems to be a little silence to fit in. You swallow a lump in your throat.

"..We had a movie night, we just fell asleep like that, that's all." You mumble, and Dean starts to feel a little bad for letting you be a victim to his spotlight-teasing and giving you no shade to reprieve to or show his undying approval.

Somehow, you still worry if Dean believes you have ruined the dynamic, and now he's cornering you to tell you to stop it or something (overthinking anxiety worms are eating away at your critical thinking skills). You just worry about what he thinks of this. You still worry about the Dean who doesn't correct random people on cases who mistake you and Sam for a couple; the Dean who just has to leave some arsenal or luggage in the front, just so you are forced to share the backseat with Sam; the Dean who always has to group you and Sam in a category when he teases you both (Geeks, nerds, smartasses, etc.). Cupid works hard, but Dean Winchester works harder.

"Hey-, Cuj- Doll." Dean sputters, switching glances between you and the wheel.

This didn't go as he planned it would, and now he is facing the consequences. The way you shrink in your seat and the way you avoid catching his eye makes Dean feel like a douchebag. If he didn't know any better he would thinks he is, but then you would actually be able to read him like a book and tell him otherwise. You hear the desperation in his voice; your candle of hope comes back to life and lights up. Your head turns to look at him with pleading eyes. Please don't be angry, please don't kick me to the curb, let me stay in the backseat a little more. Dean lets out a shaky exhale that turns into a laugh; he runs a hand down his face. You've watched him do that every time he got jumpscared by the monthly spirit with unfinished business. It was something you imagined Dean picked up from John, the picture in your head so clear (at least from the pictures you saw)— a tired dad in an old squeaky motel chair with a whiskey glass in his hand doing the same motion Dean was doing right now. Dean would mimic his father's gestures to try to look more like him; he didn't have his brunette curly hair, his dark brown eyes, Sam did.

Dean never had his voice either; he only perfected his bark to match his dad's. Sam hated the way his reflection resembled his father, Dean was either jealous of him for it or couldn't wrap his head around as to why his brother hated being their dad, probably the latter. Dad, at least in Dean's eyes, was a hero, a figure to be admired and emulated. But Sam? He didn't even have to try. Sam and John were so alike that they clashed constantly like two stubborn stags locking antlers in a duel.

"..Dean?" You call him out; you had no idea what was going on in his head; it would be pretty damn nice if you could know. Dean shots his head up at the mention of his name.

"Yeah?—sorry, I just, you and Sam are just so—" He sighs. "it's about time you two crazy kids broke that touch barrier." He guffaws, slowly pulling up to the ordering kiosk.

A new song starts playing on Dean's "hot summa' nights driving" mixtape, Emmit Remmus by The Red Hot Chili Peppers, he added it when Sam said that's one of his favorites.

- do I need to talk about how much of an immense help you have been on hunts?

- you don't need to help out on every hunt despite Sam's disappointment and Dean's kid-like joy to have their friend help them out who is a professional/werewolf/hunter/geek, who kind of gets his references?? But you are geniunely so good it's funny to have the boys call you up and be like "..so we need help". They're happy you'll show up but there is still that lick of shame that taunts the Winchesters whenever they are forced to call for aid.

- this one time, you wanted to hug them after not seeing them for two weeks, and when you went to attack Sam, you heard his bones crack.

- your strength still surprises you and knocks other people off their feet

- it was so loud (atleast for you), you were sure you broke something

- Sam did nothing but give you his (killer) dimply smile and reassure you didn't do anything (even if he slightly grunted); while Dean whined like a kid saying (lying) he doesn't want a hug (you coaxed him into it eventually)

- Sam feels like he's not allowed to call you by your nickname, like he fears it's Dean's thing and not his

- so when he finally puts on his big boy pants, he's like, "Uhh–Cujo- 🧍‍♂️so get this.."

- all red and shy, trying to act casual, as if he doesn't wonder about the reaction you might have if he calls you other nicknames, like honey, sweetheart, even baby, or if he had the excuse to hold your hand, how would you hold it? Fingers interlocked or palms flat?

- Sam would also love to just marvel at your slit eyes; if he could he would take a picture and put it in his wallet; don't get me wrong if he had one where you were normal, he would cherish it just as much.

- Sam thinks your nickname is actually really cool (probably because it's a Stephen King reference, nerd), and you take that as a compliment. Sam is hard to entertain or please by his brother's antics.

- But he prefers saying your name

- there's something so intimate about the syllables rolling off his tongue so easily

- "_____, Are you okay? What is it? The soundproof earmuffs? I'll go get them." When everything, and I mean when every sound is just too much.

- Sam got them for you; he couldn't handle seeing you wince one more time whenever a car with a bad engine would pass by the motel (during a stressful hunt); its tires squealing under the concrete, making a faint sound for the boys, but for you so much louder.

- you know how pathethic it is to be affected by such small things when you're blessed with such powers? How can you call yourself a hunter when decibels, frequencies, and fucking tire squeals make you their bitch? You wish you could train yourself in a way that would make you less sensitive to certain sounds. It just adds to the reasons why hunters have the excuse or classify you as "the frail one" not only because you're a girl. When you used to hunt with your dad and sometimes mom, the amount of dog-shit comments from other hunters who had sons, were nothing but mysogynistic, curlish, and ruthless. "Are you sure the riffle isn't too heavy?", "Does she even know how to kill this thing?", "She's going to drag us down, do you want us to die?"— the type of comments that would make your dad shoot daggers into them, defend you "She's a goddamn ______, what do you think?", and whisper into your ear "Show em' what you're made of." and you would (stubbornly) listen to his advice to the damn letter after you almost mouthed them off.

Your dad believed in "Actions are sometimes louder than words." and all that adult crap, you were not as zen.

Your mom actually encouraged the sarcasm you have replied with in the past. The funniest memory your mother can recall is a story she tells at every gathering and every chance she gets to everyone, she praised you like crazy. When another hunter's son had the nerve to fuck with a twelve-year-old you. "Aren't you afraid of breaking a nail out there?" The boy sneered, puffing out his chest like a peacock. You stared at him with pure disbelief. "The only way I'm breaking a nail tonight is by kicking your ass, you cocky brainless jerk." You spat back, your mother and father were there and so was the boy's father; the gravity of the situation was on your shoulders, and their stares felt even heavier in comparison; intimidating him was 100% on the table. You felt like everyone had the same exact thought occuring them, an unspoken demand passed everyone there, even you: Do something. And you did. Your mother's jaw went slack; she doubled over, gripping whatever surface was near her and she started to chortle, with her shoulders shaking like never before. Your father was holding in a chuckle while massaging the bridge of his nose.

- Sam has to disagree with you whenever you complain about how your senses make you look or about the way you underestimate yourself. "What?! You can't be serious. _____, It doesn't mean you're weak. In fact, it makes you even more interesting. Everyone has an Achilles heel; yours is stronger because you're an amazing hunter who figured a way out. It makes you even stronger, I have no idea how you deal with this crap! Dean and I would've gone insane if we were in your shoes for more than a day."

- he is also forcing back his infamous (spectacular) bitchface

- he doesn't 'hold back' actually

- he geniunely cannot glare at you, not when you're like this. He can make a few exceptions, like when you join in Dean's teasing/joking (the silly rambunctious energy Dean carries around had, unfortunately, contiminated you or awakened yours)

- or when you start teasing Sam yourself, he shoots you a glare that classifies as nothing but hot (in your book at least), the kind of Sam glare that makes you flush knowing he doesn't mean it at all.

- Dean making you those fake ass I.D's like "Joan Jett", "Stevie Nicks", "Kathleen Hanna" and when you asked him to make more subtle ones he was like, bet. "Kelly Hammer", "Diana Bowie", "Laura Ulrich".

a/n: I wanted to apologize again for taking so long and for the unnecessary amount of context that literally nobody asked for. Uhh yeah and feedback would be very much appreciated<3, sava out *mic drop*

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #spn #supernatural fanfiction #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #supernatural headcanons #supernatural fandom #supernatural season 1 #reader insert #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #sava preaches

62 notes · View notes