#and i think i will but it's so hard. watching him not be able to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

binmeister · 2 days ago

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Producer AU Headcanons

SAJA BOYS & HUNTR/X x Producer! Reader

I am mentally sane and definitely not in a hypothetical padded cell of this hyper fixation - have some headcanons I have and will eventually show more of maybe if people are interested

Will probably eventually expand even more on headcanons I have laying around if not just do drabbles / short scenarios for stuff I want to get out - probably extremely OOC of canon but this is what I picture everyone to be in this AU 😊

CW: relatively gender neutral here, the main series is insinuated fem!reader - just loose headcanons about the characters in this AU and how they interact or feel about you [NOT PROOFREAD]

General

The groups still fight because honestly, it’s hard to shake off that demon hate entirely but now it’s mostly relatively friendly sparring. Mostly.

Sometimes Romance plays with fire a little too closely and ends up getting his ass handed to him by Mira but he’ll say he loves it as she gets angrier, Rumi and Zoey finally having to play mediator and drag the taller girl away before she actually commits a crime against Romance

They all rely on you heavily for comebacks, you’re their favourite producer and they are terrified to try working with anyone else again after the last demos were leaked and they all sounded... horrible (thinking about EXO - Wolf where they tried to make it sound horrible so it wouldn’t be released)

You know their vocal strengths and weaknesses like the back of your hand, able to make them shine in whatever concept they’re aiming for so why wouldn’t they love working with you? Aside from when you get cranky because you didn’t get enough sleep and then it’s hard to talk to you because they don’t want you to start crying or yelling at them. Yeah you’re a bit of a wild card when you’re tired.... which is pretty frequently

The Saja boys often ended up on projects with your co-producer so over time you’d grown accustomed to seeing them in the building, which meant a lot more fleeting conversations between yourself and each boy - it broke the ice and it became easier to work with them over time

Saja boys

Jinu

Loser! (endearing)

He’s just a dork trapped in a hot body and I can’t unsee it, when he’s not in serious leader mode he’s just a goofball that likes to tease and poke fun at his friends or at you.

He tries to play it cool, he really does but he gets nervous and when he fumbles which makes him more nervous so he’ll go from “Hey..” to slipping or tripping over himself to stuttering to apologising and avoiding eye contact for the remainder of time together as he wishes he exploded in a dramatic display.

At first he was all about keeping things professional with you but it was hard to maintain a cool and collected image, when the other boys had stopped keeping up theirs. He steadily gave up and let his actual personality start to shine through when you poked fun at him, accusing him of not doing his best during recording sessions or even when he found himself at your place late at night just talking.

Talking about nothing in particular but everything at the same time and he just, couldn’t stop trying to come over to talk. If it wasn’t a bi weekly thing, it was a weekly thing and then nearly every other night he’d shoot a message asking if you’d want to come over to hang out with the guys (him) or if you wanted company while you worked.

Enjoys just being in your space, watching you work without you knowing (non creepy) and just the serenity of it. Kinda likes seeing when you get frustrated over a project and will try to help out by humming out the tune with you so you could hear it in a different key and if that doesn’t work, he rips you from your chair and says “Yup, break time.” and forces you to take a break by making you go out on a walk with him, a midnight food run, go to hang out with the chaos that is his boys, anything to get you to reset and refresh yourself.

Whenever he works on a project with you or stops by to hang out, he makes sure to grab you a couple of your favourite drinks and snacks to help get you through whatever grind you were locked in on and he’d sit back listening to you hum or record your demos and close his eyes to really hear you.. it was just pleasant and a highlight to his day when he could hear you sing.

Abs / Abby

I think he gets characterised as a meat head a lot but I think there’s more under the abs and muscles, seems like a big sweetie that struggles with being gentle sometimes.

During recording sessions it’s gotten to a point where you have to smack him and Mystery upside the head to stop roughhousing in the studio - the equipment is expensive and you are NOT paying for replacements.

He doesn’t exactly understand music on a technical level, completely going off of ‘vibes’ or whatever he thinks it is but he’s able to fix his mistakes with a few pointers and that’s it - probably one of the easiest out of the bunch to correct and he never takes offense to corrections.

He’s eager to work oddly enough? Likes to get things done and if he can help you with whatever projects you’re working on the side - hell yeah! he’ll show his dance moves if you want to see if a track is dance-worthy, he’ll provide backing vocals if you need a deeper voice on tracks and he’s happy to go buy you snacks too - just kinda a golden retriever with really nice muscles and a pretty smile.

You catch him looking at you when he thinks he’s being subtle but it’s never anything that really throws you off, he just seems intrigued by what you do - often asks questions about things about the hardware or software you’re using and when you’re in your personal studio you let him try and make a track himself, just a simple half minute track with samples you’ve already made and he’s so gentle with your equipment, worried he may not know how to handle the gear without breaking something but with your reassurance and guidance he makes a sample that he’s happy with and even goes to brag about it to the other guys.

Mystery

He’s quiet, holds himself surprisingly well as an idol aside from when he gets a little.. nippy - very prone to biting the other boys but he’s a softie towards you, the Huntrix girlies too even as they’re able to reel him in and make him stop trying to bite at fans.

He’s hard on himself - beats himself up a little more than the others do because sometimes it just doesn’t make sense and he feels dejected when everyone else is able to change things up on the fly without issue - words of encouragement mean something to him and sometimes when you’re really nice, you even pat him on the head or shoulder and he really melts for a second.

You’d gotten used to him being in your space, not in like an overtly invasive way it just seemed that he didn’t particular understand personal space - so used to latching off of his other members for promotional media or rough housing so he didn’t really get why at first you were jumpy when he leant in a little too close or if he leant on your shoulder or leg if it was available. He just kinda enjoys physical touch, not really knowing what it sometimes did to your heart.

He bit you once.

Yeah, he bit you once. He wasn’t in a particularly good mood and he had a need to bite something, anything, and you had happened to be the closest thing to him because the other guys were at the back of your studio whilst he was seated nearby you. You didn’t notice him when he crawled up to you, too focussed on the song you were mixing to perfection when you felt a sharp sting on your outter thigh and you yelped. Startling everyone in the room and even the culprit who bit you, you stared at him - he stared at you (you think) and then you pointed to the door wordlessly. He got up and walked out of the room in shame, like a scolded puppy.

Romance

Everyone agrees he’s flirty, but I feel like Romance is a bit more of the awkward flirt when you match his energy.

He’s so used to everyone backing off or getting flustered, so if you throw something back at him? He’ll fumble, stammer over his next words as he tries to catch his breath because he was NOT expecting you to match his tone. After that he’s avoiding eye contact, it takes him a couple days before he’s back to teasing you in a flirty way and sending “send nudes?” to you randomly through out the week.

There had been a time where you were left alone with Romance and he had let his guard down, turned off the flirty persona all together and he was a lot more.. approachable? Enjoyable to be around even as you two just made small talk and he wasn’t batting his lashes at you, wasn’t trying to force physical affection onto you and just simply enjoyed your presence for what it was. You had to admit when he was being him and not the flirty idol everyone wanted to see, he was pretty attractive.

He gives theatre kid when he sings, playing things up, somehow too emotive when he sings but he is willing to take feedback and correct himself when he goes too far or if you catch on that he’s straining a note too much because he wants to commit - wants to show he can do it - which leads to you taking him aside and quietly and gently reminding him that his vocal cords need to stay healthy if he wants to continue singing. To continue shining. And he takes that feedback to heart, doing his best to actually go through vocal exercises to warm up his voice and being more mindful of the steps he takes into hitting higher notes or notes just barely out of range until he’s able to comfortably undertake them and when he does hit that note? He’s got a smug smile on his face as he looks at you with the most excited and adoring eyes.

Baby

Ipad kid. I see him as the kind of person that may have a bit of ADHD. something that stemmed from his past life maybe - always on his phone or doing something to divide his attention because going all in on something is harder for him.

He can’t focus if he isn’t doing something - fidgeting, playing a game, evening snacking on something - he just needs some kind of stimuli to lock in and that’s just kinda how he is.

When he talks to you he’s usually flicking his eyes between you and his phone, but he’s listening - able to give full responses to questions you have and has no issues regurgitating the information back to you or whoever is there that doubts he was listening.

He’s got more technical skill in music than the others guys but still a few levels under Jinu, he knows what works for him and isn’t opposed to switching things up if you ask him to but it takes a few tries before he’ll get it. He’s actually assisted in writing bars for you and even critiqued lines you’ve written and fixed songs for you. His flow is a lot more natural than yours and you had to admit, he was good at what he knew.

You’d actually introduced him to a group of underground rappers that yourself and a few producers in your building knew, he hadn’t shown any interest until he showed up to an impromptu session and really enjoyed the cyphers they had to come up with on the fly. The second time he went he had asked if he could record the session and send it over to you - the others were happy for him to do that and you could hear the joy in his voice as he shared a craft with like minded people in the snippet he recorded for you.

Huntr/x

Rumi

She’s a little hard to talk to sometimes but it’s mostly because she can’t express herself earnestly, she tries but it’d be a lie if you and her hadn’t had misunderstandings here and there because of it.

As much as you love working with her, she loves working with you - absolutely bouncing off the walls when Bobby tells her and the other girls that they’ll be working on you for any project.

Also respectfully - girl failure when she isn’t putting up the perfect idol pretence because of her upbringing from Celine and often makes mistakes when its just the two of you, she feels comfortable enough to not force herself into a mould and has even had a voice crack here and there where you both laugh it off and let her redo the take.

You’d caught her when her voice was going through a rough patch, accidentally walked in when she was having a panic attack in the studio buildings’ bathroom and saw the patterns all over her arms - though you didn’t know what they were and complimented her ‘cool tattoos’ after you had held her in your arms and let her steadily calm down from her panic, after that whenever it had just been you and her she had become more comfortable with revealing her patterns to you. The comfort of you not knowing what they represented and treating her all the same was special to her, more than you’d ever understand.

Mira

She’s blunt, always has been but she likes to compliment you - not anything cheesy and over the top but just how much she appreciates your work and hopes that you’re doing well because even though you’re creating master pieces she’d rather you get rest instead of burning out

A bit rough and doesn’t always take well to criticism but is more likely to hear you out over anyone else, sometimes argues back but will still follow your guidance, gets embarrassed when you smile at her knowingly when you pick up on her following your advice

There had been a time where you got a text at 3am from her, asking if you were available for a call and you picked up only to hear her sniffly and gravelly voice as she just seemed to seek out comfort from your voice.. just something to help take the edge off of a fight she had with her parents over the phone over how embarrassed and disgusted they still were about her idol career. You let her talk before sharing your own insights, how your family felt about things and how often you’d feel insecure about your career path until you would walk down the streets and hear people humming along to a song you released and everything felt worth it again. How the right people could make everything feel worth it again.

You’d grown closer after that call and she had unknowingly became more attached, always opting to go to you to express her more vulnerable side when she couldn’t bring herself to open up to Zoey or Rumi.

Zoey

She’s so loveable it’s almost painful, often messages you to ask for critique on lyrics she comes up with and if you have time to give her feedback on what she could fix lyric or timing wise.

She respects what you have to say and doesn’t take any negative criticism to heart but occasionally you catch it, the way her eyes lose their shine for a second when you say you weren’t a fan of something she came up with and she shrinks in on herself a little - you try to be careful with how you word it whenever it does happen but sometimes you just talk her through what could change and potential ideas you have; that you still think it was a good idea just maybe could use some polishing and that normally does the trick to get her back to being her bright self.

Sometimes she gets a little overwhelming, so used to her hectic idol schedule that sometimes she forgets that production is a different trainwreck and there’s been a couple times where you’ve had to draw a line and let her know that please do not message you for a day or two while you crunch through the deadline. She understood, apologising and sending a cute little fighting..! audio clip for you to hear and you laugh it off, able to get through your project before reaching out to her and asking about what it was she wanted to share with you - this time it was turtle videos she’d found and another time it’d be seal videos she’d found and rabbit holed. Endearing, truly.

#kpop demon hunters x reader #saja boys x reader #huntrix x reader #kpdh x reader #kpdh x you #abs saja x reader #mystery x reader #baby saja x reader #jinu x reader #rumi x reader

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scarletttries · 3 days ago

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I don't even play CoD or write Ghost but something about this set up is absolutely living in my mind right now. 👻

After a couple of weeks of 'practicing' you let Johnny know you're ready for him to set you up with his cute friend in the ghost mask, and surely enough Ghost's more than happy to meet you at a bar just outside of the base. You two barely finish your first drink before you suggest heading back to your place for the next one and suddenly your nails are digging into his biceps as he carries you across to your bed, not letting his bare chest leave yours for even a second as he climbs on top of you. His mask is pulled up just enough for his lips to cascade hungry kisses from your open lips down your torso, and then your underwear is gone and his tongue is frantically lapping at your core, bringing you to the edge before you can even get his pants down.

The way he's groaning and panting between your thighs makes it hard to remember why you brought him here, but you're not about to waste all your efforts training with that dildo so the next time he makes you see stars you drag his covered face back to your lips, his tongue quickly diving between your lips as you start undoing his belt, the intimidating bulge in his pants twitching as your fingers work against his buckle. You can feel Ghost tense up, start trying to pull himself away from your sweet kiss so he can manage your expectations about what's about to happen.

"It's - uh-" he's not sure he can conjure up the words as you nip at the exposed parts of his neck and gently roll him onto his back so you can finish getting the rest of his clothes out of the way. He's surprised at how little you react to his size as it springs free, your face nothing but determination and beaming joy as you pump him in your hand, moving to straddle his thighs as he watches helplessly. "Sorry - it's" he tries again, using his bulging biceps to sit himself up so he can look you in the eye to explain. You look so pleased and warm as you plant a soft kiss against his lips and start to line his length up with your entrance, taking your time to run his tip over your wet folds and throbbing clit.

"Don't worry Simon, I knew you'd be big. So I've been practicing." You say the words like he should know what they mean, his eyes glazing over behind his mask as you start to slowly slide the head of his cock inside you, moving with soft, careful bounces that pull the air right out of the usually composed soldier's lungs.

"Practicing?" He splutters out the words with a moan, gripping your thighs with all his strength just to try and keep his composure as he watches himself disappear inside you at a tortuously slow pace.

"Yeah, someone told me how big you were so I got this a toy your size and I've been practicing fitting it inside me. It's been pretty fun, and I've been thinking of you a lot." The confession came with the same wide eyed innocence with which you might admit to put a note in someone's locker, Simon's swimming head barely able to comprehend the mental image of you fantasising about this moment. As he stared at you, mouth agape, you brought his hands gently to your chest where they began obediently kneading at your breasts and grazing your sensitive nipples. Just about regaining the ability to form a sentence, he has to hear you say it again,

"So you're saying you've been fucking yourself on a toy this big, and making yourself cum thinking about me, so you could go out with me?" He sounds drunk as the words spill from his lips, the feeling of your tight walls slowly lowering around him as you arch your back into his touch almost enough to finish him off right there. You look so perfect as you sink down on his lap, nails digging into his shoulders as your lips slowly part into a blissful smile.

"Well yeah - I like you Simon." It's too much for him as you take in his final aching inch and look him in the eyes and smile so sweetly, his name sounding wonderfully familiar in your saccharine confession. He's been in countless dangerous situations, but Ghost's sure he's never felt quite as unprepared as he does right now. He doesn't know what he possibly could have done to deserve this, but he knows he's going to do everything he can to make sure you feel his appreciation. He's still groping your chest needily so you don't move yet, watching the gears turn in his head as his aching heart implores him to say the words back. In one swift move his mask is dragged off his face and thrown halfway across the room, your smile only growing as you lean in closer to appreciate every new detail of his expression.

"I like you too, love." The words are quieter than he intended them to be, but his lips are so close to yours that you hear them clearly, then suddenly his tongue is in your mouth and his hips are bucking up into you and his fingers are playing with nipples when they aren't rubbing soft circles over your clit. You may have practiced fitting his enormous cock inside you, but nothing could have prepared you for the overwhelming pleasure of bouncing in Ghost's lap while he does everything he can to thank you for taking a chance on him.

You make an offhand comment to ur friend Johnny abt how hot that guy hes always hanging out with is. Yknow, the behemoth of a man who makes hilariously dark jokes and wears a mask? Yeah that one.

Its said in passing, and ur pretty sure Johnny forgets abt it entirely, until late one night he sends u a link to a dildo??? And its like, big, right? Much bigger than anything u go for. Johnny knows this, bc who doesnt discuss their sex life with their bestie? So u reply back "Johnny wtf u know thats not my thing, its huge lol."

His response? "Well I'd start practicin' if you wanna take on my 'hot friend'. Its to scale ;)"

...you add the dildo to ur cart.

#writing #fanfiction #requests #one shot #ghost #call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley cod #ghost cod #ghost smut #ghost x reader #call of duty smut #cod x reader

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wellthisissuperunnatural · 2 days ago

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Cherry Stems || MINORS DNI

Summary: You think you don’t have a chance with Dean, and you’ve accepted that. That is until he clocks you one night while lost in your thoughts and it turns out you have a chance after all.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Reader, Pinch of Angst if you blink, Smut, Loverboy Dean, Soft Dom Dean, Cunnilingus, Spanking (once), Petnames (Pretty girl, Sweetheart, Baby, etc.), Dirty Talk, Sex without protection (wrap it uppp), Slow Soft Sex, Creampie, Smite me down if you must but I won’t stop.

Ducky's Quote Quota: “I wanna grab his cheeks and go AWWWEEEE then I wanna grab his cock and go EURRRRRRRHHHHNNN EUURRRRRRHHHHNNNN! LIKE A STICKSHIFT!”

“I bet you can’t tie this cherry stem into a knot with your tongue.”

If there was something Dean liked, it was a challenge. And Dean never backed down from challenges. You would’ve never handed over your alcohol-soaked cherry you plucked from the bottom of your glass to Dean if you knew he’d start doing this every time you or Sam ordered a drink or milkshake with a cherry.

It was cute watching his brows furrow together and tongue prod around against his cheeks as he focused, and then his face lighting up as he held the tied stem between his perfect teeth. Of course, he was able to tie the cherry stem with his tongue. You would be stupid to think otherwise with the number of women he’s been with. Admittedly, you just wanted to see that familiar boyish grin on his face that etches across his face when he proudly shows off anything he’s done. And he does.

But you’ve created a monster.

“Hey! C’mon, man, I was going to eat that,” Sam grumbles as Dean shrugs and bites into the cherry. Already having finished his meal and dessert, Dean was left to boredly watch you and Sam finish the rest of your meals slowly.

“Too slow,” Dean says after chewing and swallowing the sweet fruit, slipping the stem into his mouth to try and tie it.

Sam gives you a look, the “do you see what you’ve done” look. You just give Sam a small, sympathetic smile, but you’re shriveling up inside— beating yourself up for doing this— to both of you. It’s mostly worse for you because you can’t stop thinking about Dean’s mouth. You already thought he had the prettiest lips, plump and kissable. But with the addition of what his tongue could do? You’re ruined.

He’s still playing with the stem in his mouth by the time you and Sam are following him out the door and getting into Baby to drive back to the motel. And you can’t help but stare intensely from the backseat, eventually meeting Dean’s equally piercing, yet curious gaze in the driver’s mirror. “Looks like you’re thinking real hard back there, sweetheart.”

“Maybe I’m trying to use the force to choke you.”

“Well, with the way you’re looking at me, you’re choking the wrong part.” Dean grins, shooting you a wink that has you snapping out of your tense stare to look away sheepishly. Your heart can barely take it.

“Dean, that’s gross,” Sam groans, covering his face in secondhand embarrassment at Dean’s flirting. Dean just lets out a throaty chuckle before putting the car into drive and taking off in the direction of the motel.

You liked to think that you had a chance with Dean at one point, when you were younger and naive.

Freshly thrown into the world of hunting a couple years ago, you thought you could conquer anything with nothing but Bobby’s knowledge and half-baked skills— all the while running on a maximum of three hours of sleep and a case of energy drinks that were sure to be shutting down your insides soon. You learned your lesson quickly when you nearly lost your head fighting an axe-throwing vengeful spirit, only to be saved last second by Dean pulling you out the way. Despite being chewed out for being so reckless, you couldn’t help but think about how he was one of the prettiest men you’ve ever met. You didn’t plan to stick with the brothers either, it just kind of happened. And Bobby lectured you about how good it would be for you since they were so experienced, so it seemed as if you didn’t have much choice anyway.

You curse Bobby sometimes because of it when you find yourself wanting Dean like you’ve never known what true yearning meant until him. Hands grasping for his only to find your curled fingers empty and his across the bar on someone that wasn’t you. You tried to get over it, really tried, but no one ever felt right— even when they felt vaguely like him in between if you squeezed your eyes closed hard enough.

Arriving at the motel, you can feel a sigh of relief slip from your lips seeing the neon red letters blinking in and out sporadically. Sam must’ve been feeling the same thing because he’s the first out of the car and halfway to the room. And just when you think you’re about to be free from this self-made hell you’ve created, opening the car door to get out as well, Dean calls out to Sam.

“Hey, Sammy? We’re goin’ to the convenience store real quick, be back in a bit.”

You pause halfway out of the car, eyes flickering over to meet Dean’s unreadable gaze as he tilts his head for you to get into the front.

“Uh, alright,” Sam says, sharing a brief look with you as you open the passenger door. And the look on your face had Sam biting his lip to hold back a laugh. “Have fun,” is the last thing you wanted to hear from him, mouthing an aggressive “you’re dead to me” before sitting in place where Sam previously was.

You shouldn’t be this nervous. Why were you so nervous? It’s not like you haven’t driven alone with Dean before. You think maybe it’s because of his recent habit he’s picked up that you can’t get off your mind, but you figure out that it’s most likely because he’s quiet. He’s too quiet. No obnoxious singing, no reaching over the console to ruffle your hair or prod at your side to get you to laugh, nothing. And it makes you uneasy.

Looking at him from the corner of your eyes— he doesn’t seem angry. Sure, his eyebrows are narrowed deeply into his glabella, but the rest of his face seems more thoughtful than anything with the stem bitten between his perfect teeth. Maybe he’s constipated? God, you don’t know anymore— does he know? Maybe Sam told him, but Sam would never betray you like that. And now he’s looking over at you with that weird look on his face like you’re the weird one—

“You good?”

No, not really, you feel like a skittish animal who’s never seen a human in its life. “What? Yeah, I’m fine, I’m good, I’m—“ you pause to clear your throat and lean back in your seat while making a small motion with your hand, “— chill… why?”

Dean suppresses a snort, face contorting into one of amusement as you fumble nervously over your own words. He turns back to look ahead, index finger tapping against the steering wheel slowly. “You’re fidgety.” He takes the tied stem from his teeth and mindlessly tosses it into the cup holder.

“I’m not fidgety, you’re fidgety,” Is your quick retort as you cross your arms over your chest and avert your eyes. “I’m cool.” Christ, you act as if you’ve never been around a guy before.

“Uh huh…” By his body language, now Dean’s shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Great, you made him uncomfortable. “Look—“ he starts out and you dread hearing the “I know you like me but we’re just friends” speech. “If I made you uncomfortable earlier with my joke, I… uh, sorry,” he says almost sheepishly. And you don’t get why he’s apologizing because it’s not the first time he’s ever made a flirty comment or joked with you like that before.

“What? Dean— no, you didn’t…” You trail off, hands falling onto your thighs to tap your fingers anxiously. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“You looked it. And maybe it’s just because I didn’t notice it before, but I don’t wanna do anything that you don’t feel comfortable with, y’know?”

Banging your head against the window would be ten times better than confronting what you’re about to confront. Damn him and damn your inability to hide the flustered expression creeping over your face. “It’s not like that,” you manage out in a strained voice.

“Then what’s it like?” There’s a tinge of frustration as he says your name and looks over at you. “Because I don’t get— “

You don’t say anything, your silence answers enough as you turn your head and look away nervously like a guilty dog after chewing up the furniture.

“Oh.”

Oh.

There’s a long beat of silence that hangs in the air between you like a thick fog, weighing heavy on your chest. You don’t dare look at him, not when your ears are burning and your stomach’s trying to climb into your throat. You try to stay calm, keep your cool, but your heart is thumping like it’s about to knock your ribs loose.

“You— you like me? Like… like-like me?” Dean says it out loud like he’s in disbelief at the thought.

You let out a short breath in what could sound like exasperated amusement at his words. “I want you. I’ve wanted you, Dean.”

Now he looks at you. Fully turns his head for a second, his jaw slack with surprise before he quickly turns back to the road.

You laugh, self-deprecating and breathless. “See? This is why I didn’t say anything.”

“No—no, hold on,” Dean says, pulling Baby over into a near-empty parking lot and throwing her into park. He twists in his seat to look at you now, eyes searching yours like he’s trying to solve you. “You’re saying that you actually… you’ve got a thing for me? Like, have had a thing?”

You let out a groan like you’re in pain. “Yes, Dean— since the axe-wielding ghost that tried to mount my head on a wall.”

Dean blinks. “You’re kidding.”

You shake your head.

“That’s… fuck.” He rubs a hand over his face. “All this time, and I’ve been—” he groans. “Jesus. I thought you were just… not into me.”

You finally meet his eyes again, confused. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I’m into you,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “And I’ve been too chicken shit to say anything ’cause I didn’t wanna screw up what we had. I figured if you did like me, you would’ve said something by now.”

You blink this time.

And then you’re cracking up into a fit of laughter, not entirely sure if it’s from the situation or if you’re about to lose your mind over the fact that Dean Winchester of all people wanted you.

Dean gives you a look, one that’s unsure and slightly concerned.

“Sorry,” You quickly stop laughing and clear your throat, avoiding his eyes again. “I just—“ you take in a deep breath and exhale, leaning back into the passenger seat. “I feel stupid now,” You murmur, head tilting back to press against the headrest as you look at the roof like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“Yeah, well I feel stupider.”

Both of you sit in silence for what feels like eternity as awkwardness eats away at your nerves until Dean is picking up the cherry stem from earlier and messing with it between his fingers, like he’s waiting for something. And Dean doesn’t wait. At least he usually doesn’t.

But this was different.

“Dean.”

His gaze meets yours, a sheepish almost hesitant look on his face as you push down the urge to run away from the situation.

“Can I kiss you?”

You can practically see him perk up at the question, lips curling just wide enough to show his perfect teeth with a gleam in his eyes. “Really?” His mouth twitches like he’s rewiring before clearing his throat and relaxing. “I mean, yeah.”

And your lips pull into a small grin at his behavior before moving in your seat to face him, his own body turning to you as your hands subconsciously find their way to cup either side of his face to pull him forward over the console.

What you didn’t expect was for him to get too excited and shift his head forward eagerly, forehead slamming into yours.

“Fuck!”

“Ow— shit, sorry!”

You hiss in pain, hand flying to rub at the spot as Dean winces. “Let me kiss you, Dean. You’re like a walking OSHA violation for romance,” You grumble.

Despite the countless women he’s been with, Dean doesn’t remember ever being this awkward— or embarrassed. But he can’t help but get nervous, because this isn’t a passing one-night stand with any woman. You know him. You’ve seen him at his worst moments, the ones where he’s screaming until his vocal cords are raw and his chest is heaving, the ones where he breaks everything he touches because he’s never known how to truly fix things regardless of the bravado he puts on acting like he does.

And it scares him.

Because you’ve never pulled away, never looked at him differently. He wasn’t just a hunter, wasn’t just Sam’s older brother, wasn’t just someone who was doing everything they could to stop an apocalypse— he was just him. Just Dean.

And when your lips finally pressed to his, he was yours.

Dean melts near instantly when your lips slant to shape against him, a calloused hand dropping the stem he’d been anxiously fidgeting with to rest on the back of your neck. There’s a sighed groan that rumbles through his chest and into his throat, head tilting to deepen the kiss. You’re able to taste the cherry pie he had earlier at the diner when he coaxes your lips apart to explore the inside of your mouth, tongue lapping against your own salaciously—mind growing fuzzier each passing second. You refuse to pull away until you’re out of breath and taking in gulps of air, but even then, you’re still hovering just centimeters away from Dean’s lips. He looks just about the same as you, chest rising and falling heavily but ignoring the need for any air other than the breath on your lips. His eyes flicker over your face to take you in, hand moving from your nape to cup the side of your face to carefully wipe his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Wish I did this years ago,” He whispers breathlessly before guiding you into another kiss. This time, his hands are dropping to your thighs to scoop you from your seat as he unbuckles your seatbelt to pull over the console onto his lap. Your legs shift to straddle him properly, ass pressing into the steering wheel before a loud blaring of the horn has you and Dean jumping away from each other. You let out a quiet snort shortly after realizing what happened, leaning forward away from the wheel and into Dean’s chest with your hands resting on his broad shoulders.

“This isn’t very tactical,” You point out with a small grin, Dean chuckling at the levity of the situation before it tapers off into a thoughtful hum.

You watch his head tilt and eyes flit over the backseat before meeting your gaze again, his hands briefly squeezing your thighs. “Depends,” He murmurs, “How far do you want to go?”

Swallowing down the small lump in your throat, you take in the look on his face, the only light reflecting off his features being from the dull luminosity of the moon and faint dashboard lights. And he’s really looking at you, drinking you in like he’d be satisfied if you’d stop here and continue the rest of the night like normal. But that’s the last thing you want because despite the look in his eyes, the bulge in his jeans says otherwise and you don’t think you could say no even if you tried. “Wanna go all the way,” You hear yourself saying quietly before thinking any further.

“Yeah?” Dean murmurs before leaning forward to press a softer kiss to your lips, hands rubbing over your hips before lifting them. “Backseat then, pretty girl.”

A throb pulses through you to your lower stomach, but you hide it by giving a half-hearted nod in return to his words and climb into the backseat, shifting to get comfortable as Dean follows close behind. Just as he climbs over the console, his hand slips off the seat and he tumbles into your lap, foot kicking into the radio with a string of curses following behind as you giggle. The radio crackles to life quietly, the familiar intro to Drive by The Cars playing.

“Fuck—uh, meant to do that,” Dean clears his throat as he moves out of your lap and properly settles into the backseat, kneeling on the seat between your legs.

Your forehead bumps against his, lips clumsily slotting together, hands roaming to undress one another eagerly. You push his jacket off his shoulders, sighing softly into his mouth when his hands ruck up your tank top to grope and palm at your chest. He pulls away from the kiss to tug off the tank top, tossing it aside before leaning back in to kiss down from your lips to your jaw and then to your neck. Sucking in a shaky breath, you can’t help but shiver when his warm lips trail down your cleavage and murmur a surprised noise when his knees drop from the seat to the footwell. “Dean, what are you—” You start out before he’s quietly shushing you and mouthing a trail of kisses down your tummy to the waistband of your jeans.

“Jus’ wanna taste, that okay, baby?” He mumbles against your skin, eyes meeting yours for permission as his hands hover over your jeans.

You crumble under his gaze quickly and nod with a hazy hum before he’s unbuttoning and pulling down your jeans. Your feet kick off your boots lazily when your pants bunch down at your ankles, leaving you in just your bra and underwear.

“God, you’re so pretty, sweetheart,” Dean says reverently, fingers ghosting over your inner thighs before pushing them apart to make more room for him. “So fucking gorgeous,” he adds as his eyes fall to the damp crotch of your underwear. “This all f’me, sweet girl?”

“Mhm,” you hum back, hips jolting when he brings a thumb to press against the wet spot, rubbing small circles over your clothed clit. You try not to squirm too much, but it’s difficult when he’s taking his time with you and talking to you like this, not to mention how he’s looking at you with a carnal hunger in his eyes.

Dean’s low and heavy chuckle breaks you out of your muddled thoughts, a moan slipping past your lips as his thumb drags down from your clit to press forward. The shallow feeling of his thumb prodding just at your entrance through the cloth causes your hips to jolt again. “Sensitive, sweetheart?”

“Dean—” you whine out, growing frustrated with his teasing touch. “Please,” you whisper, hands holding yourself steady on the seat, nails digging into the vinyl seat. “Need you.”

Groaning roughly, Dean’s fingers are curling into your underwear and tearing them off before hooking his arms around your thighs and angling your hips to fit against his mouth. The first taste he has of you is a filthy mouthful, tongue dragging through your slick folds upwards to your clit, sucking harshly enough to make your hips buck up.

You gasp out, hand flying to his hair to grip at the short strands as he laps you up with fervor, arms trapping your thighs from shutting around his head. “Baby— feels s’fucking good.” But he’s barely paying attention, too busy burying himself further between your thighs like it was his salvation. And he can’t help but chastise himself over taking so long to finally have you like this, hands squeezing and holding your thighs to keep them still for him as your arousal drips down his chin.

“Keep still, baby, gotta keep still while I eat this pretty pussy out. Fuckin’ dripping for me,” he rasps out heavily between mouthfuls of your cunt. “Been wanting this, huh? My mouth on you.” You’re trembling in his grasp at this point, but he’s barely started with you. His nose bumps against your clit when his tongue slips down to slide past your tight entrance and then back up to suck around your throbbing bundle of nerves. When you don’t answer him, his hand slaps against the outside of your thigh lightly, mouth parting from your core. “Answer me,” your name slips from his lips and it sounds sinful, sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes!” You whimper out, fingers curling into his scalp. “Wanted you, wanted your mouth on me, De.”

“Atta girl,” he gruffly murmurs out before going back to eating you out eagerly, shifting on his knees from how uncomfortable his cock straining in his jeans were. God, did it ache to not be in you, filling you up and stretching you out to fit around him like you were made for each other. But it sure as hell made it worth the ache seeing you crumble beneath him like this, begging for him like his touch is the only thing you’ve ever known.

And when you fall apart, thighs straining against his firm grip in attempts to clamp down on him, he groans into you. You barely make a noise, your mind swimming in pleasure as you grind against his tongue, chest stuttering at the erotic noise of him loudly slurping up everything you have to offer. Your limbs feel heavy, fingers uncurling from his hair to lazily fix it all the while still trembling from the aftermath of your orgasm.

Dean lets out a breathless laugh at your blissed out state, pulling away from you as he wipes the rest of his mouth with the back of his hand. “You alright there, sweetheart?”

“Shut up,” you mumble out as you gather yourself back together, watching him move back onto the seat with you. Your legs sit spread over his thighs, sitting between his legs and shuddering when his bulge brushes against your sensitive pussy. “Need all of you.”

“I know, baby girl,” he croons, lips brushing against your own before he unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans to pull his cock out of his briefs and nearly signs in relief. It’s thick and lengthy, curved just slightly in a way you know will have your thighs shaking by the end and it’s throbbing with need. When his hand wraps around the shaft of his cock, precum spills out from his tip in rivulets down his length to slicken himself up with a throaty groan. Just as his free hand reaches into his tossed jacket to pull out a condom from his wallet, you grab his wrist.

“M’on the pill, wanna feel you.”

And Dean freezes in place just momentarily to look at you before he’s dropping the condom and crashing his lips against you again like you just broke the world’s best news to him. “Wanna feel you too,” he muffles between your kisses before he’s guiding the tip of his cock to slide between your folds with a moan. “Been thinking about this, having you finally— all spread out and needy for me,” he admits quietly, lips twitching up at the corners when your hips jerk at the way his tip rubs over your clit. He then slips down to your entrance, pressing just barely past your tight hole. “Looking like a goddamn dream,” Dean nearly whimpers as he slides in past the tip, forehead pressed to yours.

Your moans mingle with his own stifled noises, arms coming up to wrap around his neck, holding onto him as he crowds you between the seat and his body, squishing you in the best way possible with every inch he’s slowly pushing into your warmth. “Dean,” you mindlessly let out, a desperate whine falling from your lips as he bottoms out finally. “Please, I—“

“You’re perfect, so fucking perfect for me,” Dean pants out, face falling to the crook of your neck as his hips still against you to take a moment. “And pretty,” he adds with a pitchy sigh as he slowly grinds his hips into you in an experimental manner. “Oh, fuck—“

Your ankles lock together around his waist, heels digging into his lower back to push him deeper despite being pressed against you like the concept of space didn’t exist. “Move, please,” you plead, hips shifting to move along with him until he’s holding you still.

“Uh, uh, baby,” he murmurs, grinding into you again. “You let me do the work. We’ll get there, promise.” His arms wrap around you, hands sliding up your back to hold onto you before he’s sliding in and out of you slowly with his face still tucked into your neck. “Just needed to keep myself from coming right away, you feel too good.”

You’re getting hazy again as his cock breaches places you’re sure no one else could ever reach and accept that you’re ruined for anyone else. You take in his scent, nose and mouth pressed against the slope of his throat as he continues to fuck you slow and thorough like he’s memorizing every ridge and bump inside of you. He smells like faint woodsy cologne with an overwhelming scent that was uniquely him: motor oil, gunpowder, leather, faint smoke, and sweat. And you drown in it, clutching onto him weakly and moaning lowly into his skin when he angles his hips to hit that spongy part buried in you.

“That’s it, baby, all you have to do is let that cock slide in and out of you, just like that,” Dean groans, pace picking up just barely until a mixture of your arousal and his precum is frothing at the base of his cock, dripping down his balls. “My pretty girl— ruin me so fucking good, don’t need anyone else but you,” he rambles mindlessly as he brings his forehead up to press against yours again, lips barely brushing together. “M’all yours. This cock is yours. You hear me, sweetheart?” Dean huffs against your flushed face, chest rising and falling heavily as his hips falter just slightly.

You nod like you’ve barely got any sense left, lidded eyes meeting his pupil-blown ones, barely even a ring of green left. “All yours, too, Dean. Wanna be with you,” you let slip out before you can stop the words from coming out. You’re too far gone at this point, coil drawn tight in your tummy and clit throbbing for his touch.

“Yeah? We can do that,” he whispers before he’s kissing you, lips desperate and hips rutting up in short yet deep strokes into your clenching heat. “Take you out on a proper date tomorrow, how ‘bout that, huh? Just like my girl deserves.”

Your heart clenches in your chest, aching in a good way as you nod again, lips moving along his own subconsciously until he’s pulling away.

“You close, sweetheart? Can feel you around me,” he mumbles, earning a small “yeah” from your parted lips. “Where d’you want it?”

“Inside,” you respond without a second thought, earning a breathy sounding “fuck” in your ears from him.

“You just want it all,” Dean lets out an airy laugh before he’s focusing on bringing you to the edge, half thrusting and half grinding into you with fervor. “Gonna fill you up till you’re fucking stuffed with my cum, baby. Not gonna waste a single drop,” he grunts as he brings a hand between your bodies to rub his thumb over your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Coming, Dean— fuck! Please, please, please…” you practically slur out, thighs quivering when he circles the pad of his thumb over your clit harder as he grinds up into your sweet spot one last time, sending you tumbling over the edge again. Your vision blurs momentarily as he ruts into you a few more times, whining under his breath as your tight cunt pulses around him in a desperate need to milk his cock dry until he’s coming in you with a broken curse and stilling hips.

His release fills you, warm and viscous until his balls are emptied and he slowly pulls out, eyes dropping down to watch his cum slip out of your soft pussy with a groan. He uses his thumb to swipe it up before pushing it back in, chuckling at your weak whimper in return. “You were so good for me, sweetheart.” He tenderly kisses your lips as you both catch your breath, resting his forehead to yours.

The radio still plays in the background quietly, multiple tracks ahead now to Angel Eyes by The Jeff Healey Band and you sigh.

“You alright?” Dean asks, eyes flickering over your exhausted expression as he brings his clean hand up to cup the side of your face with care.

“Yeah,” your voice comes out scratchy before you let a beat of silence between you pass over. “Did you actually mean it?” You clear your throat, finally meeting his gaze. “The date…”

Dean gives you a once over before doing a terrible job of holding back a grin, thumb tracing over your cheek. “Wouldn’t’ve said it if I didn’t mean it, pretty girl.”

Your lips shape into a small smile back. “Okay.”

“C’mon, gotta get back to the motel or else Sammy’ll take all the hot water,” Dean murmurs, placing a final kiss to your forehead before shifting to help dress you and tuck himself back into his jeans.

The drive back to the motel is quiet for the most part aside from Dean’s content humming to the radio, his hand over your thigh— thumb rubbing soothing circles over you.

Sam is still inside, sitting by the small desk table the motel comes with, reading up on some lore when you enter. He takes one look at the both of you, and he isn’t stupid which is why he mockingly asks:

“So, what’d you get at the store?”

“Son of a bitch— that’s what we were out for!” Dean groans, scrubbing his face. “I knew I was forgetting something.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

“Shut up, Sammy.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #dean smut #supernatural x reader #I will always drop bomb song recommendations in the middle of smut idc

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yougavememyopia · 1 day ago

Text

You guys won't believe the amount of times I rewrote the plot for this... Tags: Handjob, nipple play, basically him receiving, small self-harm threats in his narrative, mommy kink~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Crybaby yandere who had a hard time stopping the tears—blinking through his blurry vision to make out the television screen. Failing to distract his mind from its sad thoughts. Pushing the jealousy away over and over again to no result.

He embraced the plushy cushion tight, resting his head on another. The fabric dampened from the salty crystals falling from his eyes. What went wrong with him? Why did he have to be this way? So unbelievably pathetic. It made his head painfully heavy.

He decided to try and think gratefully—you wouldn't want him to be sad this whole time. Even if you were taking an awful amount of time to get back... (He gave up on calculating the minutes due to his hatred for math.)

His teardrops felt lighter, his shoulders releasing their tension as he let out an exhale. His nose sniffed the sweet smell of your shirt hugging his body. A smile making its way on his face as he looked away from the nature documentary to a photo of you. Hearts in his half-lidded eyes while he mumbled your name with a sigh. He couldn't wait until you got back home.

As soon as you turned the knob—before you could even set a foot in—he jumped into your arms. Weakly squeezing your torso, and moaning about how he was literally dying without you. Stumbling over his words of how he was going INSANE without you. Rubbing his face against your chest like a dumb little thing, not one single thought in his brain other than needing to be with you.

“Awww, I missed you too, baby. I hope you weren't too bored. Mwah!”

He let out a loud, suggestive sound, getting dizzy from just a kiss on his head. Your affectionate voice was the best thing he had ever heard in his life. The sweet nickname rolling of your tongue making his stomach flip and twist in all the nicest ways possible.

"I, uh, put something to watch and e-entertained myself... I- Is that okay?"

You smiled with knitted brows, the word 'entertained' had a secret double meaning that he didn't know you were aware of. He was slowly coming out of his insecure shell, you didn't want to embarrass him by how you watched him hump your pillow and cream his pants. "Sure... Yeah. Why wouldn't it be? As long as you're happy, I'm happy..."

He was so lucky to have you. So unaware of how deep his obsession with you was. Did you really think you could hang out with other people when you were dating someone like him? Touching and laughing and looking at other people that weren't him. He may not be able to hurt others, but didn't you know he could be dangerous to himself? You haven't seen how unstable and artful he could get. Didn't you know better than to leave him by himself without baby-proofing the house?

“Ow, ow...! Tight. Can you let go, hon?”

You could barely move with how his hold got tighter and tighter until his grip suffocated you. Your weak, frail boyfriend hurting you was something that never crossed your mind. Hand clenching around the bag of sweets you forgot to mention to him. He obediently stepped back after you spoke. Hands digging into the baggy pyjamas pants he stole from your closet.

You laughed when he cried happy tears about the candy when he looked inside it. Popping one of the strawberry ones into his mouth. He looked like a wreck. Bangs covering his puffy eyes, his fluffy hair sticking in various directions. Nothing unusual when his pondering left him a red nose and chapped lips. He looked at you with a fervent need in his eyes, wanting to feel you, opening his mouth only to close it again. Muttering "please" and showing you one of his cutest pouts.

Grabbing your boyfriend, you pressed him against the entrance door. The bag dropping from his hand when you suddenly kissed him. He immediately turned flustered, red-faced at how you put your arms around him. You would feel pretty silly if it wasn't for how he melted like the candy in his mouth. His hands clutching your shirt and opening his mouth wider to share the taste of strawberry.

He offered his neck to you as you pulled away, tilting his head to the side, begging you over and over to mark him up—show that you own him. He wanted to feel some sort of possessiveness after being away from you for sososo long. Why couldn't you be crazy over him? Lock him up in your shared room and just make out with him until he fainted?

He moaned loudly in response to your bites. Whimpering with every lick and tugging down his shirt to give you more space to mark, exposing his collarbone and his shoulders for more. Sniffles making its way to his speech as he began to cry. Hands intertwining with yours in between your beating hearts—heat warming up his icy fingers.

“C-can we continue this in the b-bedroom? Mmm?” He hiccuped, hands still gripping yours lovingly. You pecked his lips and pulled his dizzy body with you.

You finally convince him with honeyed words to take his pants off. Lots and lots of reassurance, convincing, and kisses—until it finally worked. Greedy with praises he loved to hear so much, he felt safe enough to undress to his boxers. Leaning his back into your chest and sighing into your arms happily. His crimson face hidden from your view. The way your breath brushed his ear gave him chills.

Your fingers stroked his bare chest for a bit—loving the feeling of his skin beneath your fingertips—before you went lower to the waistband of his shorts. “Um… H-hold on. I want you, um, to touch me, I really do but… hic!” Soft tears fell from his lashes. His shaky hand brought the blanket over to his bulged lower half. Still covering himself when he said he wouldn’t. Still hiding away from you when you sought him.

“You're awfully self-conscious.” You finish the sentence for him, noticing how uneasy he looked. Guilt swimming in his gaze while he chewed on his lip. Sure, ‘guilt’. He acted as if he had no idea how he did to you. Teasing you unfairly—when you knew he could be shameless all alone. But you decided to play his game. “Well, how about a compromise? I'll touch you while you're under the sheets.”

He hummed in thought. Shifting his eyes to the ground like this was a hard decision for him. Sniffing and mumbling a meek, “Mm, okay.”

His legs spread wide as took off his boxers. Down where you couldn't see, your imagination pulling you to curious places. It took a lot of patience being with him. Maybe he was pushing you to the edge on purpose, until you snapped and used him to your liking.

“Y-you can go ahead now… Hic… I'm ready. Haa… Be gentle please.”

Your hands landed on his waist, slowly and slowly making their way up instead of down. You knew him pleading with you to be gentle meant he was already close, but you weren't going to give him that satisfaction after how bad he had been acting. After all the time you spent trying to get him to open up.

“W-what are you doing?” he squeaked. Goosebumps irritating the skin of his tense stomach as your fingers touched under his shirt. You kept your tone calm, a complete contrast to his shaky moans. “Just touching you. You wanted me to touch you, right?”

A loud cry escaped his throat when your fingers circled around his nipples. The contact immediately making them harden under your touch. He dragged out a whine while you tugged and twisted them. "Please— F-f-fuck~ P-please don't tug so hard! Mmgh! J-just.. Hahh.. Don't t-tug it at all!"

“How long are you gonna keep me away?” You questioned. New teardrops penetrated his eyes and blurred his vision. Not like he could keep his eyes open anyway. Furrowing his brows and holding onto the bedsheets. Your touches were never harsh—but its pleasure was so overwhelming, it hurt. “How long until you finally start being honest?”

"I d-don't know what you're saying…! Mmm, no… no… Fuck! I d-don't know... please! Please. Please. Pleeeeease!"

You finally stop pulling his poor nipples, soothing them by rubbing circles. "I want to get to know you more. You barely open up about… your preferences." You breathed a tired sigh. Letting your hands drop to your thighs. "I don't want to pressure you or anything. I'm sorry. We can stop."

He panicked, "no, no, no... Please don't- Don't apologize...! I love you, hic, I love you so much! I never meant to make you upset, hic! Please don't be upset with me... I'll get over my fear. I'll do anything! Hic, please..."

Putting your hands back on his body, he threw the blanket away in a swift motion. Not even hesitating this time. He was unexpectedly big. His long throbbing cock coated in hot precum. It was... a really arousing sight. (Guess you should play with his nipples more). You thought that he was scared because of not being enough, yet surely that couldn't possibly be true.

It felt most times you didn't know him—who he truly is. What questionable tactics he will use get you to stay. A sort of long term play you didn't quite understand used to influence you. But... you couldn't bring yourself to care at this moment.

"W-what? You've gone all quiet." You swore you heard a bit of smugness in his tone when he whispered in your ear. His head leaned back on your shoulder while he breathed your name in a groan. Your fingers grazing his thighs as he continued to grab you. Rubbing circles around your wrist while he placed both of your hands around his member. "Please... I'm so close, mommy..."

"Ah?" You gasped when you felt the sticky substance pouring out of him. The heat burning your palm while you slowly stroked him up and down. Trying to get used to the feeling of him.

"Why didn't you stay after you caught me moaning your name, mommy? Why didn't you just fuck me?" He whined sadly. A droplet of tear falling on your arm, his crying beginning again. "Your poor babyboy was so frustrated. Mm, why couldn't you ditch your stupid friends...? Hngh, leaving me all alone..."

You swallowed. Eyes mesmerizing by the way his hips moved to chase release, how you tightened your grip around his flesh without intention, how he kept going after shooting out thick ropes of come—painting your hands and the sheets white.

"Fuuck, I need more... s-so much more... hic! Mommy, please, pretty please! Nngh... Your panties in my pocket are not enough anymore. Hic... I need more... More! Pleaaaaase..."

Your lips were captured by his in a kiss. His whimper vibrating from his mouth to yours, drool and spit exchanged between you. Eyes rolling to the back of his head when he continued overstimulating himself. Hungry for more toe-curling orgasms from you.

"Oh, my baby... Of course I'll give you more."

He sobbed while you kissed his wet eyes, finally snapping out of your trance. Your finger stroking the veins on his fat twitching cock, thumb rubbing the red tip, smearing it with more gooey liquids. It was fascinating how more kept coming. You sucked on his earlobe while you picked up your pace.

Maybe you should've questioned what happened more—like how he suddenly broke into your home and started living with you—yet it felt like nothing mattered other than him feeling amazing. With the way he kept moaning out "Ah, fuck mommy! Please, don't stop," you were prepared to go at it all night.

#yandere #dom reader #yandere x reader #desperate yandere #male yandere #pathetic men #yandere oc #obsessive love #yanblr #pathetic yandere #sub yandere #yandere boy #male yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x darling #crybaby yandere

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cempasuchil-flower · 2 days ago

Text

It’s cold.

You keep being hounded by family at every gathering to bring home the secret boyfriend you obviously have because they won’t take “I don’t have one” for an answer.

You haven’t seen your cousin in two years because your aunt is convinced that you’re a lesbian and won’t let you near him.

Your mom won’t stop dropping hints that she doesn’t want you to die alone in a cold bed. “You should go meet people. It’ll be fun.”

Your coworkers keep flirting with you even after you’ve made it clear you’re not interested because somehow you not “being taken” is blanket permission to do so.

Keep your male friend at an arm’s length because otherwise you two won’t be able to breathe around each other without someone commenting that you should kiss already.

It’s years of growing up hearing “you’ll get it when you’re older,” over and over and over again until you’re way past the point where you should have gotten it and it stops being cute and suddenly people look at you like you’re the problem.

You watch your friends date and fall in love around you and you feel like there’s something freezing, cracking broken inside you because it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you just can’t seem to feel anything similar for someone else.

It’s getting bombarded with media from every side that all spells the same message out for you: The guy gets the girl at the end of the story and they live happily ever after because they’re together. That’s the only way this story can end happily. The evil witch of course, dies alone. She never loved anyone because she was wicked, right? Her heart was so cold she couldn’t love.

One day you realize that you will never be someone’s first priority because everyone regards romantic love above platonic connections. All of your friends have partners and loneliness settles like ice in your bones.

…

You find a word that describes you. You sigh in relief because there’s an entire community of people who will understand, who will truly get what it’s like to be different.

And then you get chased off what you thought would be a sanctuary because you’re not queer enough for them.

You’re not enough for anyone.

You never will be.

You can’t love, you monster. How could you ever believe that you’d be enough for anyone?

You’re alone.

You will always feel cold.

You weren’t made to be loved.

“Hello?”

“Is anyone out there?”

“I’m here.”

“Oh. Hello.”

“Why are you here?”

“I don’t know”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, it’s nice talking to someone. I haven’t in a long time.”

“Why not?

“Because I’m broken.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m here too. I think I’m broken too.”

“No… That can’t be it. You’re the brightest thing I’ve seen since I got here. There’s no way you’re broken, not with the way you shine.”

“You think I shine?”

“Blinding.”

“That’s how I found you though. You’re shining too.”

“Huh. I’d never noticed.”

“Should we stick together?”

“…that sounds nice. I think I would like that.”

“We can’t be the only ones here, right?”

“Well, you found me, didn’t you?”

“Maybe if we look hard enough we’ll find more stars in the sky.”

And maybe there can be warmth for us after all.

I think people who consider aromanticism as "basically straight" underestimate how noticeable absence can be to those around you.

Whether you're a kid in school with classmates who won't take "no one" as an answer to who you have a crush on or an adult whose coworkers have picked up on the fact that you've never mentioned a romantic partner; after enough time, a lack or insufficient amount of romantic interest will raise the antennae of friends, family, coworkers, etc... They will notice and they will speculate and they will ask.

It is impossible to meet the societal bar for straightness through inaction.

#asexual #aromantic #aroace #pride month #my writing #queer archive #meeting my best friend and finding out we’re both aroace saved me in more ways than one #it can be lonely #but always remember #youre not alone #theres people out who are like you #theres people out there who understand #and will accept you for you

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bunnyclawzz · 3 days ago

Note

Okai hear me out. Nerd mark, he has a HUGE crush on you, like, HUGE. He's been in love with you since you're both like 12, but he has never talked to you since he's too shy. Now, he gets his power, getting a lil bit confident and realize that he can steal whatever he wants from your room when you're sleeping/not in your house

What stuff the different warrants would take from your room? How would they use it? Would they return it? ��

Haii!! I was like, dying for a request like this because I know Mark is a weird little freak!! I haven’t written lengthy smut in a while so forgive me if this isn’t written too well 😓 It’s a bit longer than I intended it to be but that’s whateverr

(˶' ꒳ '˶)

Warnings: Smut (not sex), clothes stealing, very freak/perv Mark, fem reader

Ever since he had first seen you back in middle school he's been head over heels. From day one he was completely enamored by you, he just did his best to hide his heart eyes for you...Which he always failed at doing.

He always watched from a distance like a stalker. Sitting in class admiring you year after year, eavesdropping on conversations just to hear your sweet voice, bumping into countless walls and people because he had been to distracted staring at you in the halls instead of paying attention to his surroundings. He knew had no chance of getting with you. Him, Mark Grayson, the guy who spends every Burger Mart paycheck on comics and collectibles dating you?? It's laughable! Then it happened. He finally got his powers after years of waiting for it to happen. He was of course ecstatic! He could fly, he got super strong,his stamina is so much better, he has enhanced senses!!

It took a long while for him to get used to it, of course. A lot of training and practicing to be a real hero. But as soon as he had it all under control? Being thee Invincible was the biggest ego boost ever. Becoming a hero, being on the news all the time, reporters practically begging to know more about him....it definitely made him confident. He would do extra long patrols just for the attention, just walking or flying wherever to "keep the city safe." Whilst on one of these extra long patrols he saw you. Nothing bad going on, just you walking home by yourself. Why would you ever do such a thing? You're so smart! You know what kind of things happen to people who walk alone late at night, so why would you even think to do it? He just can't have that! He had no option other than to walk you home safely! He loved how chatty you were the whole time, he doesn't even mind that the first time he gets a real conversation with you is as his hero persona

"What's it like fighting all the time?" "You seem so strong! Is it hard to workout and keep your strength? "What's flying like, it seems so fun to be able to do that!" All perfectly endearing questions which he Gladly answered for you as he walked beside you.

He got you home safely, walked you to the door and all like a real gentleman..and as soon as he realized he now knew exactly where you lived? Oh there was no stopping him and his stupid ideas. They stayed ideas at first! He didn't want to scare you by watching you from your window or sneaking in like he's been daydreaming about! But he could only fantasize so long before he acted on it.

It was as “normal” as stalking could be at first. Just watching your home from the sky-just to watch for any intruders, of course! What if someone tried to break in?! He had to be there to stop them! Just watching your home for at least an hour every day for five days. During that time he was able to pick up your schedule; when you left the house to go on a walk, or when you left to go shopping for hours on end, and how he noticed that you left your window open all the time. Yes, it’s just a small little crack, but honestly…you were practically inviting him inside with that.

Once he knew your home was completely empty, he flew down. He hesitated for a short second before he pushed the rest of your window open and slid inside. He was stunned for a moment. Your room really reflected you. All soft and sweetness. Just how he would imagine your room to be

He went to your bed first. Sat on your plush comforter like an awkward guest at first. It’s wrong, he thought to himself. What was he even doing in here? It’s gross really, why would anyone-and then he cuts his own thoughts short by shoving his face into your heart shaped pillow. He inhales deeply, practically huffing the thing. It smells just like you-his new heightened senses only help him. Smells just like you; from your hair products to your perfume and body oils/ perfume.

“Oh fuck….you can’t be real..” he murmured the words to himself between breathes, a hand already palming his bulge through the skin tight suit. “You can’t be human…such a f-fucking angel” he continued to speak to himself between breathes, his hand now clutching your still warm comforter as he grinds into your mattress. “Y-you smell so good-“ he murmured as if he was talking to you “-so perfect, baby” he groans as he tightens his hold on the pastel sheets. You already got him so close, nearing the edge from your sent alone, right about to tip over before he gasps and forces himself to sit up.

It’s wrong. Sneaking into his long term crushes room wad bad enough, but humping your bed was way too far!! He just felt so guilty about the thought of cumming in your room!

Unfortunately for you, that was only the first time he snuck in. The guilt and worry didn’t compare to the need and desperation he was feeling.

It became routine; waiting for your home to be empty, slipping inside, and perving around. The first few times he mainly just laid in your bed; daydreaming he was laying beside you, cuddling with you and not the pillow he held to his nose. The same one he began to hump and grind on after a week of sneaking in. Of course he didn’t only lay in your bed-you had so much other stuff to go through!

You’re vanity; all your pretty makeup, where you kept your perfume and where he would spray said perfume on his wrists so he could smell you even after he left. The closet where he would go through all your tops and bottoms, reminiscing about the first time he saw you in each article of clothing. You really do just have the prettiest outfits, don’t you? He’d gladly buy you more. Any little outfit and accessories you wanted as long as he got to watch you model them for him.

It became like a ritualistic schedule; Sneak in, lay in your bed, sniff nearly everything like a dog, go through your makeup, spray your perfume-But what really got him to act like a real pervert? The laundry basket.

He he didn’t do it at first. That first time he snuck in he completely avoided it. The second day though, the light brown wood container practically calling to him. Leaving it open that day with a pair of your used underwear at the top of the pile was practically an invite to Mark. When he took the dainty cloth out he whined. He stared at the garment with a pout. Who were you wearing these lacy panties for? Why do you even have something this pretty if it wasn’t for him? He had so many thoughts, so many that just got burrowed beneath his loudest thought.

He felt so guilty for using your used underwear like this. Yet he didn’t stop; Whining and moaning into your underwear, desperately licking at where your perfect cunt would have been-where he knew your fluids woukd leak out as he fists his cock on your bed. Using your lotion.

“B-Baabbyy..” he whines the nickname, huffing in your musky scent. He takes one more deep inhale of the flimsy lace before he moves it downwards onto his flushed dick. “P-please..god—You feel so good-“ He moans and moans over and over again till he can’t hear anything other than himself. It didn’t take long for him to cum, mouth hung open, whining and bucking his hips up as he pretty much ruined a pair of your fancy underwear. He pants heavily, looks like he just got out of a harsh fight with the way he was breathing. Once he came back to Earth, he pouts at the sight of your soiled underwear, he couldn’t just let this be a one time thing!

Over around two weeks you begin to notice more and more items of yours missing. Whining to your friends about how so much of your lotion is gone, how your soo sure that the washing machine is eating your underwear, how it’s weirdly warm and almost musky like in your room when you come home in the evening.

Just completely blissfully unaware that it’s your shy nerdy classmate Mark who’s sneaking into your room. How it’s him who’s using up so much of your lotion, who’s messing up your bedsheets and rummaging through all your items.

Or how it’s him stealing your used panties and shirts to sniff at while he jerks off just to imagine it’s really you in the room taking care of his needs.

#invincible #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #invincible x you #mark grayson x you #invincible show #mark grayson x y/n #mohawk invincible #mohawk mark #sinister mark #invincible x y/n #no goggles invincible #sinister invincible #invincible smut #mohawk mark smut #mark grayson smut #mark smut #markus sebastian grayson

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jjonqseob · 1 day ago

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spicy dating mingi headcannons

pairing: bf!mingi & f!reader

genre: smut

tws: this is pure smut (i'm too lazy to name everything)

author's note: i'm so, sooo sorry for the wait. also, i got a little bit too carried away with this one... but i hope this is what you were hoping for, anon! btw, all this came out of my head, i'm so sorry i just love this man so fucking much. and as always, ignore if there are any grammatical errors or i might die fr. eng is not my first language. MDNI!!!

i think every time would be like the first, he'd say something like "stop laughing! you're making me even more nervous!" because despite being a couple for so long, he always gets nervous at first, but then... yeah…

he's a damn switch (u can't change my mind ab this). do you want to top him? of course. do you want him to top you? of course. but he would enjoy being a subby more... although he might never admit it.

it's incredible how easily he gets turned on and fucking hard. did you kiss him on the neck? he's already getting a damn boner, and don't even get me started when you sit on his lap. it might be a tender moment, but if you move, even just a little bit, you'd feel a bulge underneath you.

he LOVES you touching him. your hands feel so good, no matter the context. he just loves how your little hands feel on him. are you walking hand in hand? are your hands in his hair while you kiss him? you're sitting on the couch, and you let him lie on your lap? he just loves your touch and having you close.

i also feel like he'd always be open to trying new things with you, both because he loves you and out of simple curiosity. besides, who knows? maybe he'll discover something new he likes.

dirty talk. he's SO into that it's embarrassing. If you're on your knees in front of him, looking at him with those big, pleading eyes, he won't be able to help but say, "open up. let's see how much can fit today that pretty mouth of yours." if he's eating your pussy, he won't stop saying how delicious you taste, how beautiful all the cute sounds are that come out of your lips while his tongue works rigorously on your needy cunt. and if he's fucking you, my god, he'd never keep quiet, he'd always point out how good it feels like your insides squeeze his cock with every thrust, how wet you always are for him, how well you take every inch like the good, pretty good girl you are.

this man moans a lot. don't ask me why, but i know. it you give him a short, little kiss, he'll let out a small moan. if you pull his hair while you're kissing? yes, a moan. and don't even talk about when he eats your pussy. he'd moan more than you.

and the last point brings me to this next point, we all know mingi is a pussy eater, i even feel like it's kind of obvious (he told me himself cause we're besties, duh) he just loves watching you squirm when he uses his mouth on you, you squeezing his head with your legs, the way you pull his hair, burying his face even more between your legs, the way you cum in his mouth, the mess you made on his face… and of course he would swallow everything.

this man is SOOOO into recording or taking pics of both of you while: you jerking him off, you give him a blowjob, you ride him, and recording himself while he eats you out? he's definitely gonna jerk off with that damn video while he's on tour (*cof, cof* link…)

he's so needy… but like, always. i feel like sometimes he wouldn't even notice. like when he rubs his morning boner against your ass while he's half asleep, or when a simple kiss turns into a shower of moans (obviously from him), he just enjoys it too much, but can you blame him? he's just so in love, and he loves you so much, and you turn him on so damn easily.

slaps. yeah… but he likes to receive them, and if you're riding him? good lord, do you want to kill him? you, riding him so well while he looks at you with that silly, lovelorn, aroused expression before feeling a soft, warm hand hit his cheek, followed by your lips against his... one day, you'll kill him. ALSO, maybe he's also into choking… receiving and giving, but more than receiving cause he's a damn freak.

loves LOVES watching his cock slide into your pussy, how you take every inch so well, how your ass bounces with every thrust, he could cum just watching you.

he's… quite big, and he knows it, and when he sees how your eyes get watery from trying to take his cock completely down your throat it makes him feel dizzy, you just drive him crazy in the best way possible.

he likes creampies. i mean, watching your pussy drip with his cum just makes him want to fuck you until you're completely filled, but something about cumming all over your ass cheeks just makes him... tingle. your ass was already perfect, bouncing and colliding against him with every thrust, and now it's painted white because of him? you really want him to shove your face into the mattress again and fuck you doggy style until you're shaking, don't you?

one word, mirrors. we all know that mingi loves watching himself, but watching himself fuck you from behind? watching every expression you make, how your tits bounce with every thrust, how you hold on to the sink, trying to stay standing, and he can only see that if he looks in the mirror, but when he looks down, yeah, your cute, perfect ass bouncing as his cock slides inside you. and if it so happens that you both end up in a motel, he'd make sure you have one of those rooms that have mirrors on the ceiling, on the sides, everywhere, he just loves to see himself, and what he loves more than seeing himself, is seeing you.

and he's the king of aftercare, no matter if he was rough with you, or if you were rough with him, mingi will always ask you how it was, if he did well, if you felt good, and then he would clean you up with all the love in the world, or even carry you to the bathroom for a relaxing bath together, and of course he would offer to soap your back, but his hands would always go... elsewhere.

#ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez mingi #mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi #mingi #song mingi x reader #song mingi x you #mingi x you

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munsonify · 2 days ago

Text

summer cuddles

pairing. steve harrington x fem!reader

summary. despite the smoldering heat of indiana and steve’s heater of a body, he insists on laying on you while you cuddle

content warnings. flufff, a shirtless steve, heat waves, sweating, kissing (sfw), cuddling, slightly pathetic!steve, loverboy!steve, clingy!steve. not proofread

word count. 855

a/n. the heat’s killing me rn and i know steve wouldn’t give a shit, bro just needs his cuddles

———

hawkins was being hit with the worst heat wave it’d seen in years.

the air was sticky, humid, disgusting to walk through. it was hard enough for the people with proper ac to deal with. the ones without a working ac might as well’ve been a boiling hot puddle on the ground for people to walk in. that’s why you’d flocked to steve’s place, sweaty skin and in desperate need of relief. he a had a pool you were quick to utilize, air conditioner good enough to get by.

still, it wasn’t quite enough relief for you, especially not with steve’s room being on the top floor of the house. early the first morning you’d spent at his place, the rising sun was quick to beat down onto his roof, leaking through the seams. the heat wasn’t so bad that night. you were able to coexist with steve in his bed well enough without the sun bullying your glands. but now? now you wanted nothing more than to pry his arms off of you.

it felt rude of you to think and feel. you loved your boyfriend, really, truly loved him. you loved his touch and his closeness and his presence. just not while your skin felt like it was burning hot.

“steve, baby,” you whispered, knowing full well the both of you were awake. you felt him shift behind you, his arms that were wrapped around your torso tugging you closer. he had his face pressed between your shoulder blades, nuzzling a little further into you. you grumbled at him, attempting to lean away from him. he only tightened his grip on you.

“don’t go,” steve mumbled out against your thin tank top. normally, you loved when he got like this. you craved the attention, you enjoyed it and basked in it like you were meant to be there. sometimes, though, he chose the most inconvenient times to be this way. what was once endearing was slowly becoming a tad frustrating.

“‘s so hot,” you told him with a pout.

“you’re so hot,” steve said back, giving you a gentle kiss through your top. his large, warm hands gently moved to the hem of your shirt, slowly pushing up underneath to feel your slightly sticky skin.

you let out a small huff at his actions, trying your best to tough it out. for him. he was trying to lay it on thick, get you all flustered and wanting more. it worked only a little, just enough to let him stay for a few more long minutes. he let out a content hum when you stopped your protesting momentarily. what he did next was sure to have you scolding him nearly worse than the sun.

steve was gentle with the way he moved the both of you, shifting you to your back. the blankets were mostly off of you two now, hanging off the side of the bed, rendered useless. his large, broad body found its way overtop yours, carefully laying down on top of you. steve’s head found home in your sticky chest, hair clinging to your skin and his. you looked down at the man, watching the way his cheek smushes against the curve of your breast, his eyes fluttering shut.

you began your protest again, weaker than the protest before. seeing him this comfortable against you was adorable. it made your heart stutter and clench with love and adoration. one of your warm hands pushed strands of hair off his face and neck to give him any sort of relief from the heat you could.

“i dunno how much longer i can take you hanging on me, baby,” you mumbled, lips meeting the tippy top of his head in a gentle kiss. “we’re both sweating.”

the whine that left steve’s mouth was bordering pathetic. he really was a sight to see. tan skin of his back on full display as it glistens in the morning sunlight, face tucked into your body, lips pouting, eyebrows scrunched together. still, he didn’t open his eyes. he didn’t move. he stayed put in your hold, letting your fingers card through his hair, your other hand tracing at his shoulder blades.

“just a little longer, honey, f’me? can you please?” he mumbled, strong arms wrapping around you firmly again. he began bargaining with you, pleading with you to stay with him. “i’ll keep your water filled, run you a cold shower, let you stay in the pool all day, anything. just stay with me.”

you smiled for the first time this morning. steve’s words were genuine, you knew they were. he would do anything for you. whatever made you happy, steve would do anything he could to fulfill that. his words were enticing, too, like he knew exactly what you would want. he always did. he’s attentive, loving, clingy. how could you not give in? having him in your space didn’t seem to bad now that you were reminded of his love and devotion for you. you could do this one thing for him.

“you’re insatiable, steve harrington,” you whispered, eyes shimmering down at him. “i’ll stay.”

#munsonify #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff

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scarletttries · 3 days ago

Text

Smutty Ghost Thought

Inspired by this post in which Johnny helps the reader get ready for a night with his hot masked friend.

I don't even play CoD or write Ghost but something about this set up is absolutely living in my mind right now so sharing here too 👻💞

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hearts4hughes · 12 hours ago

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reader couldn’t get enough of tow truck driver!rafe, so she calls him but this time it’s not for her car. but, for her.

warnings: penetrative sex (mdni), unprotected sex (creampie), breeding kink (kinda?), dom/sub themes, crude language

it starts with a dial tone. no broken engine, no flat tire, just you, curled up on the edge of your bed with the glow of midnight on your collarbone and his number already saved.

“figured i’d be hearing from you again,” rafe says, voice like the edge of glass, like he’s been smoking or maybe dreaming of you. you don’t say anything. you just breathe, loud enough that he knows you’re not calling for help. “…what broke this time?” he asks, smug, slow, and already so sure of himself.

your breath hitches. “me.”

he groans and shuffles around. then you hear the scrape of something metal, keys maybe, then the low hum of his truck door slamming shut. “text me your address.”

you don’t ask how long he’ll be. you just wait, throat dry, pulse thudding like you’ve conjured him from the dark. twenty-three minutes later, you have.

you’re already outside when his truck pulls up, headlights slicing through the night and making your stomach flip. he leans across the seat, pushes open the passenger door. he doesn’t speak, just watches you climb in, mouth curled at the corner like he’s trying not to laugh.

“what’s the damage?” he murmurs, eyes dragging over you. “need me to tow you again?”

you pretend to look down at yourself. “think i might need a full inspection.” you blush and clench your thighs.

that elicits a laugh out of him. his eyes scan you head-to-toe. you’re clad in a piece of fabric that you call a tank top and a skirt that doesn’t leave anything to the imagination. “backseat.” he isn’t asking, he’s commanding.

you don’t hesitate. you crawl over the center console like that’s what you were made for—knees brushing his thigh, your palm catching on the rough denim of his jeans. and he watches with his jaw tight and pupils blown wide.

“fuck, baby,” he mutters, slamming the door and climbing in after you. “didn’t even make me work for it this time.”

“you came when i called,” you whisper, already breathless, already dizzy. “thought that meant you wanted it.”

he catches your jaw in his hand, not rough, but firm. thumb dragging across your bottom lip, like he’s checking if you’re real. “i did.” he leans in, breath hot against your cheek. “i do.”

and then he’s on you. he kisses you like he owns the rights to your mouth. he’s starving and you’re the only thing on the menu. he tastes like cigarettes and coffee and something stubbornly sweet. your fingers tangle in his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, revealing sun kisses skin and muscular skin. he groans when your nails scrape down his chest.

“fuck, i missed this,” he grits, rocking his hips into yours like he’s trying to find the exact angle that’ll make you whimper. “missed you all week. haven’t been able to sit in this truck without gettin’ hard.”

“that your fault or mine?” you tease, breath hitching as he mouths at your neck.

“yours,” he says without hesitation. “you and that little skirt.” he nips at your skin hard enough to leave a bruise, then he soothes it with his tongue. “and that mouth—god, baby. the things you said in here last time.” his hand slips between your thighs, finds you already wet and waiting. “fuck me,” he breathes. “no panties, huh?”

you nod, lips parted, thighs trembling. “rafe, please—”

“nah, sweetheart.” he kisses you again, slower now, almost devout. “you called. i’m gonna take my time.” he pulls your panties aside like it’s a ritual. his fingers run through your slick and he curses under his breath.

then he’s inside you, thick and deep and perfect. you moan into his mouth, the sound caught and swallowed in his chest. the windows fog, the truck rocks, your name leaves his mouth like a prayer and a threat. he calls you baby, sweetheart, mine, like he’s branding you with it.

he’s not sweet with it, he’s rough and all consuming. his toned hips snap up into yourself relentlessly. his thick cock fills you to the brim as your arousal pools around his base. his hands hold your hips bruising, pulling you down into his thrusts, and hitting your g-spot every time.

when he chuckles, you open your eyes. your brows furrow as he stares at your stomach. then you look down and your head spins. every time his cock is thrusted back into you, a bulge in your abdomen is visible. “look at that,” he looks mesmerized. his hand drops from your waist to your stomach and pushes. you don’t moan—no, you scream.

that’s all it takes for you to come—hard and trembling and gasping his name. you clench around him like a vice and he groans, only moving faster. you lay in his arms limp and overstimulated.

“gonna fill you with my cum.” he grits, holding your hips still. “can’t wait to see it pour out of you.” he stops moving completely and you think he’s done, only for him to penetrate you even faster and harder. when he finally feels himself releasing,

he stuffs himself to the hilt and empties his load into you. he stays there for a second before pulling out completely and watching him drip out of your stretched out hole. he looks up at you and grins. then, his takes two digits, and pumps it back in.

you don’t say much after. he gives you his flannel and tucks it around you like you’re fragile, even though he knows better. you lay with your head on his shoulder, your legs still tangled, the vehicle heavy with the scent of sex and something too close to longing. “your car better actually break next time,” he mutters, teasing but quiet.

you smile against his skin. “you didn’t seem to mind.”

“yeah, well,” he exhales, fingers brushing your thigh. “don’t think i could stay away even if i wanted to.”

you look up. “do you?”

his eyes find yours in the dark, unreadable, and burning. “no.”

taglist ~ @ren-ni @bungurus @kayperrysinging @cupids-diner @mojitrvo @babygirlboeser @makiplan @ladyatwalmart @qversazex @nothingtosee333her @soft-starr @f10werfae @brennanyay @grungefck @kravinoffswife @restinpaece @illumoria @meetmeintheemeraldpool @miaaaoa @imtalkinnonsense @strawberrymilk99 @angel06babysworld @rafesteddy @drewrry @urcoolgf @thegirlnextdoorssister @sydneysslove @dsfault @missabsey @ivysturnss @kisses4rafey @katiebby04

#nora’s writings 💐#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron imagine

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rcmclachlan · 1 day ago

Text

Fuck It Friday/Sentences Sunday/Motivation Monday (Musings)

Tagged by @screamlet and @firehose118 on Friday, @station18908 and @freneticfloetry yesterday, and @ambernotember, @zeraparker, and @chococara25 today

Here's some more of the s3 lawsuit arc alt meeting au that I actually wrote into the tumblr text editor just now. Do the kids still say YOLO?

Buck looks up and misses Peru and its huge, endless sky with a sudden, sharp ache. The LA skyline just seems to eat more of it every day. He remembers Maddie saying she got a bunch of calls during the blackout last year from people who were terrified of the giant, silvery cloud in the sky, because none of them had ever seen the Milky Way before. Sometimes he thinks he's going to look up one day and there'll be no sky at all—just a tangle of steel, concrete, and glass.

"The city wants to settle," Buck admits quietly, skirting the edge of full-on whispering. He keeps waiting for a reporter to jump out of the shadows and demand a quote. "They offered me twelve million dollars."

"Shit." Tommy lets out a low whistle, then shifts a little. It brings his arm up against Buck's. "Makes sense, I guess. The city's been hit with so much bullshit over the last few years that they'd probably throw in ownership of Library Tower to avoid the media circus alone. You gonna take it?"

While Buck was laid up on the 9th floor of First Pres after the bombing, he watched an episode of Modern Marvels on his phone centered around the history of dynamite, and when Bobby refused point blank to let him come back, all he could taste in the back of his mouth was nitroglycerine. It's been sweating out of his pores for weeks, crystalizing in every deposition he's been forced to sit through, building up at night when he can't sleep and when he checks his phone throughout the day hoping to find even one new text; and all the while he's been dreading the single spark that would send it all sky high.

He thinks of Eddie calling him exhausting in the middle of Howie's Market and tastes burnt caramel; hears Bobby's patronizing you're not ready like the crackle of a lit detacord; and the easy way Tommy makes the city's offer sound like a fair response to all of the shit Buck's been shoveling since the bombing is a shock out of nowhere.

Kaboom.

"I don't want money!" Buck explodes, sliding off the wall and shoving his hands into his hair. "I don't want a single, solitary dime, Tommy, I just want my job back!"

Normally, having someone stare at him the way Tommy's currently doing — like Buck just admitted to being a space alien or that he had a room full of porcelain dolls like his Uncle James — would be mortifying enough to shut him up, but he's been sweating nitroglycerin and no one's upended him to redistribute the weeping. There's no stopping him now.

"D-Do you know how hard I worked to get to where I am? My doctors didn't think I'd be able to walk normally again, never mind run up ten flights of stairs with a full kit on! I did the training! I did the full course so many times I thought I'd die some days, but I-I passed every time. Every test they threw at me, I passed. I'm pretty sure they made a few up just to see if I could handle them — and I did. I did, and I was cleared by every person on that med panel and they all shook my hand and welcomed me back! I should be back!"

For a white-hot moment, he thinks he's going to take out the entire block with the sheer force of his anger. And despite being well within the blast radius, Tommy does nothing.

Panting, Buck closes his eyes and waits for the dust to settle. "Th-They covered my name."

"They what?"

"On my locker," Buck murmurs. When he opens his eyes, the world swims through a curtain of tears. "They... put her name over mine. Bosko. They just... taped right over it. Like a bandaid."

Even to his own ears, he sounds baffled. Not even angry; all his energy was expended during the blast. Now he's just hurt and confused, because no one told him. No one said they were bringing someone else in.

"I just... I don't understand how it was that easy for them."

"That what was easy?" Tommy asks, unbearably gentle, and it has Buck knuckling away a fresh, hot wave of tears. It sounds like how having your back rubbed while you're throwing up feels. Buck can barely tolerate it, but he's so grateful it's there all the same.

Buck breathes out shakily and finally says it out loud. One final shockwave. "Replacing me."

No pressure tags: @beanarie, @setmeatopthepyre, @leashybebes, @geddyqueer, @dharmaavocado, @politenotice, @alchemistc, and @apollabarnes (plus everyone who tagged me first!)

#it's still monday for another 2 minutes #bucktommy #motivation monday #lawsuit arc au

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monstersholygrail · 2 days ago

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Jellyfish Hybrid Stoner

Preview— Patreon Exclusive

Jellyfish Hybrid x fem!reader— high sex, groping, tentacle play, light fingering, free use, tentacles stuffing all your holes, gagging on them, multiple orgasms

You check your watch for the fourth time in the past three minutes. Still waiting around in your room for Jellyfish Stoner to come by your place for the drop. He always did this, never coming on time to pick up his usual.

As blitzed and out of it as he usually was, sometimes you thought he did this on purpose. Made you wait around so you had to give someone else all your other deliveries. Leaving you perfectly free to hangout and light up with him.

And just like every other time you’d handled his drop instead of one of your guys, the minute the clock ticks past your last scheduled appointment for the day, the door swings open to reveal the accused.

He saunters in, already looking high off his own stash, and laughing at some joke in his head.

“You know they’re just giving out cocks!” He proclaims as he flops right next to you on the mini-couch in your dorm.

“Must’ve missed that aisle on my last grocery run,” you grumble, spinning the fat blunt you rolled hours ago between your finger tips.

Jellyfish erupts into a fit of giggles, falling into your side. As if on instinct his tentacles immediately begin curling around your plump limbs and latching on possessively. None of them stinging you but they do deliver a delicious little buzz along your veins that never fails to make your body perk up in attention.

You hate how infectious his laughter is and how easy it would be to lean into him. Join in on the fun no matter the reason. And you want to. Because then you wouldn’t have to admit to yourself that you’re upset he’s so late as that would lead to you admitting the reason; that you missed him.

Instead you just sit there watching him with hearts in your eyes. And if he was any more sober he’d notice it for sure.

“Not what I meant, silly,” he coos at you, plucking the blunt right out from your grip.

The flame flickers across his translucent skin, making him appear almost ethereal as he flicks the lighter open and lights the blunt, pulling hard from it.

Something about the familiarity of all this soothes your hurt and you find yourself melting into him as he hands it off to you.

“All my friends are giving their mates their cocks as gifts. Do you want a cock? I could get you a cock,” Jellyfish Stoner offers and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest.

And it has nothing to do with the stick in your hand.

Luckily enough for your heart, you don’t take him too seriously. He’s always teasing and joking around— flirting— with everyone. It’s a natural state for him. You try and convince yourself this isn’t different.

“I think I’m good.”

That’s the right answer. You’re positive. But if it is then why is he looking at you like that? His red-rimmed eyes all half-lidded and alluring. The reflection in them practically glittering, focused solely on you like you’re the only girl in the world. As if a million thoughts are hidden in their depth and they all point to you.

You don’t know how he seems to be thinking so much after all the stuff he’s smoked. But people often overlook just how smart he is. There’s always something more to his words.

“Hmm. What if it was mine? Want my cock, baby?” He asks, voice suddenly growing more husky.

This is a Patreon exclusive fic so you'll only be able to read it there! Check it out if you're interested in reading the entire fic and many more. I have a ton of other exclusive and early access fics that you can read there too!!

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bllushbunniie · 2 days ago

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aaron, hot weather, hot gf, suggestive- extremely short piece of writing !!

I can expand on this piece later if people want it !

sorry! something super quick, short and simple, I’m trying to not stop writing hehe. not edited so if you catch any errors- let me know!!

..♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡..

Being with Aaron so many years, you had a certain level of familiarity around each other.

You knew exactly what each of you was going to order at a restaurant. He knew that you disliked watching the news in the morning, so always made sure to change the channel before you came downstairs. You knew he hated looking unprofessional so you made sure to iron his shirts just right so he was always picture perfect.

So when you decided it was just too warm to wear clothes to bed, you didn’t really give it a second thought.

Aaron and you were very accustomed to each others bodies, in all scenarios and situations so your subconscious knew it didn’t matter in what state of undress you slept in.

But what you couldn’t account for was Aaron’s brain. You knew him extremely well, but Aaron was just a man at the end of the day, just human, so forgive him for being delightfully startled at the display of you lying face down on top of your shared bed, above the covers.

It was way too warm to start something with you. But god, if he didn’t appreciate the way your beautiful back curved into the swell of your bum, it would be criminal.

He was unsure if this little set up was on purpose. The fan was blowing through your hair, your face cutely squished by your pillow, and arms raised just right so he could see the side of your breast pressed against the sheets.

No, absolutely not, he cannot get hard right now- it’d probably kill him.

But now he comes to think of it, it’d be a nice way to go out, sweaty, exhausted from showing you how beautiful he thought you were. Maybe the feeling of heat exhaustion wouldn’t feel too superb though.

A cold shower maybe? That might do the trick.

You were clearly asleep, so he might be able to calm himself before he goes to bed.

But not if you had anything to do with it.

‘Aaron? Are you showering?’

‘Yes lovely! Just go back to bed, I’ll be in in a minute!’

Just as he turned back around to the shower stream he felt a hand touch his shoulders.

‘Don’t you want me to join you, honey?’

——

a/n: I’m working my way through a series of aaron and a principal ballet dancer!! It’s coming, don’t worry!!!

#criminal minds #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #bllushbunnie talks ♡#hotch fluff #aaron hotch fic #hotch smut #aaron hotchner x you #hotch #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch x you

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southernimpala · 15 hours ago

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fourth of july

teen!dean winchester x fem!reader

summary ↬ you've been secretly messing around with dean behind your uncle bobby's back, but pretending to 'hate' him is getting harder.

notice ↬ ok so i LOVE writing teen dean omg, a little fluff, teenage angst and pining, reader and dean are like sixteen, underage drinking, underage sexual implications (no actual smut but there's some kissing) a lil filler post before i finish my sam mini series which is taking way too long since i’m a perfectionist, no use of y/n, lowercase intended !

wordcount ↬ 1.7k

you’re surrounded by beer breaths and ketchup-covered faces, with unusual smiles and loud laughs. fourth of july at uncle bobby’s brings a normalcy you aren’t used to, a life that can be comparable to the neighbors next door, where all you are is a teenage girl with her legs dangling off the back porch railing, watching as hunters gather around a seasoned grill and not flinch at the sound of branches cracking.

the potent, rotten smell of sulfur wafts through warm summer air, akin to black eyes and red blood. tense shoulders and exorcisms falling off the tongue like prayers.

but, today, the sulfur stems from the bright pops of color exploding in the sky, spreading into the golden landscape as the sun sets slowly.

they come one after the other in no particular order, probably caused by a couple mischievous kids next door who somehow got their hands on definitely-too-big-to-be-legal fireworks. not that you complain, though; it gives you something to look at besides dean winchester.

he’s standing across the overgrown backyard with a cold one in his hand—because none of the adults care if teenagers are drinking—talking to some hunters. the setting sun shines gently against the sharpness of his jaw, green eyes turning emerald every time he lightly chuckles at something one of them said. he looks so smooth, carved from meringue and something else bitter.

you trap your bottom lip between your teeth in concentration, trying your hardest not to linger on his tall, broad figure for too long lest it becomes suspicious. you’ve already done enough dawning your favorite sundress, the one that’s far too short for your uncle's approval. but being sixteen comes with precocious rebellion and crushes that aren’t anything less than a heart’s death sentence.

except, dean winchester isn’t a crush. and to uncle bobby, he certainly isn’t a friend.

“you want another burger?” bobby singer’s voice cuts sharply through your thoughts, “i got a few extra cookin’.”

he holds out a flimsy paper plate, carrying a messy burger, lathered in ketchup and sliding off its crisp bun. your stomach grumbles, but you can’t mess up the reddish tinted lip gloss you’d smothered on earlier.

“not hungry,” you lie, picking at a loose thread on the lace of your dress.

bobby sighs like he knows everything, “look, i know you aren’t happy about dean being here, but—”

“it’s fine, bobby,” you interrupt quickly, because you hate to see the concern in his eyes, “not like i can’t handle it.”

“well, i know what you think of him,” he says.

that he’s too handsome for his own good? that the cheap shampoo he uses is intoxicating? that he deserves to run his lips down the softness of my skin whenever he wants?

“yeah, that he’s an ass,” you mutter with the inside of your cheek between your molars to keep a smirk down.

ever since you were kids, you and dean had a hard time getting along. always arguing about something, never able to stand in a room long enough without your blood pumping hot and angry.

it didn’t take long after you’d both turned the age where suddenly the opposite gender doesn’t have cooties and, instead, carry the cure to the new longing for stolen kisses and sinful touches, where you delved into your urges with him.

of course, your uncle has no clue. dean’s ass would be beat and your bedroom door would get a lock on it.

regardless, the secrecy of it is rousing. making the moments where dean can steal you away and give in to desires feel like illegal ecstasy.

bobby fixes the ragged cap on his head, “just try to be civil today, and for sam, y’hear?”

you mumble an agreement, looking down at your bare feet as they swing above the sharp blades of grass underneath you. when your uncle trails off, catching the attention of another drunk hunter downing beers like it’s the last supper, you almost slip off the railing you’re sitting balanced on when dean startles you, standing right there, too close.

he smells of leather, gasoline, and most definitely, teenage regret. there’s a twinge of alcohol on his breath when he speaks, “did bobby give you the ‘be civil’ spiel?”

you roll your eyes, feeling claustrophobic as, with every inhale, he steps closer, “y’know, with you this close that means i have to slap you.”

dean scoffs, “he isn’t even looking.”

“all the more reason,” you tease, clenching your thighs closer together when he throws his head back a bit in smug laughter.

“don’t try so hard to hate me,” he says cooly, like he knows the effect he has on you, “your head might explode.”

“i don’t have to try and feel anything,” you answer, and that gets a flicker of the bad boy facade you’re looking for.

satisfaction and something else, still new and intense, pools in your stomach, filling your ribs and up to your throat. playing this game with him is fun, but only lasts so long until the other can no longer pretend they don’t want their lips taken and body grabbed.

god, if your uncle knew.

you’d both be goners.

“who knew bobby’s such a good host?” dean says, looking around at the cluster of hunters, oddly without bloody clothes or freshly bruised knuckles.

you shrug, “he can grill a mean steak.”

“yeah, but don’t you think it’s weird,” he continues against the rim of his can, “seeing all these guys, actin’ like there aren’t monsters to hunt, people to save?”

“maybe monsters get holidays off,” you joke, although you know it won’t land.

“fourth of july won’t stop anything,” he takes a long sip, like the beer will settle something in his stomach, “that’s why my dad’s out there and not here.”

he mentions john winchester with reverence, as if he’s something holy, like god, watching over him at all times to make sure he doesn’t let his guard down, not even for a second.

you try to swallow the protest of his admiration, “i think you should go, you’ve been around me too long.”

the playful, cocky expression on his face returns, “i thought you wanted to slap me?”

“don’t tempt me winchester,” you bait, but your heart drops when, out of your peripheral vision, you catch bobby keeping tabs on your interaction from across the yard. “get the hell away from me before i owe you a black eye.”

dean’s brows furrow for a moment before catching on, “you wish you could get your hands on me.”

“you’re so full of yourself.”

“you wish.”

“suck a dick, dean.”

“you wi-”

“hey!” bobby shouts loudly, getting both of your attention, “what did i say about fightin’!”

“she started it!” he points at you, but before he can blink, you’ve snatched the beer from his hand, pouring the rest of the piss-colored drink down onto his golden brown hair, drenching it in wetness.

dean sputters, rapidly blinking his eyes as the liquid runs down his face and off the slope of his nose.

you bite your lip to keep your laughter down, eyes softening at the way you catch his smirk, the one that sends your shoulders deflating and knees weak, underneath the beer dripping.

something tugs at you, a feeling. an air you aren’t sure you’ve breathed yet when you meet eyes. you’ve selfishly had his hands, his lips, his body, but there’s that nagging in the back of your head that makes you question whether you have his heart.

but, you want it. you need it.

“come with me, i’ll clean you up,” you say, watching as his features turn gentler, expectant.

he follows you as you lead him inside the house, the large standing fan your uncle bought for the hottest summer you’ve had in years blowing cool air throughout the kitchen. it sends goosebumps rising on your skin—tiny bumps that dean feels on his palms the second he grabs your forearms to push you lightly against the cold fridge.

“you’re still wet,” you say, moving a strand of damp hair off his sticky forehead.

“that was mean,” he says huskily, going back and forth between your lips and your eyes, waiting, making you desperate. “i’m starting to think maybe you do hate me,” he gets closer, like he forgets anyone could just walk right into him pinning you under his shadow.

“no,” you breathe, the hard-to-get attitude draining from your body as his hands run down the dip of your waist, groping, needy, “i don’t think i ever could.”

his hands still. your blood runs warm at the way his face seems to freeze in intense eye contact, like he’s searching through the window to your soul for any falseness in your words, any ounce of playful teasing that would have his rapidly beating heart slowed back to normal.

he wasn’t used to this. the softness in your eyes. the difference in your tone opposed to every other time you’ve given yourself to him, where it was just physical, teenage lust in the broken sheds tucked secretly away in backwoods.

this is raw, almost too real.

the silence is filled by the crickets chirping and the loud laughs that are alcohol’s production through the open windows.

then, like dean winchester does best, he laughs, smoothly, like the beer swimming in his belly, like your skin underneath his grip, “yeah, i bet.”

before you have the chance to frown, he takes your mouth in his own, letting you taste the alcohol on his lips and the aching love on yours that he has no idea is for his heart and not just his body.

and like the drug that is his tongue on yours, the one you’d die upon, you’re swept into a numbness that spreads everywhere but the pulsing spot below your navel.

he presses himself further into your mouth, his hands roaming, fingers threading through strands of hair. teeth clashing and chests grazing.

when you pull away with empty lungs and swollen lips, he lets his forehead fall against yours, eyes clenched shut so he can pretend the tight fist that’s closed around his heart isn’t yours, but goddamn, are you squeezing. firm and relentless.

another firework pops, bathing the dim room in the glow of red and blue vibrancy.

a subtle feeling washes over you. not contentedness but something akin to it, that perhaps you have him—all of him.

but, can someone really have all of dean winchester?

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ tags ↬ @h8aaz , @sacr1ficialang3l <33

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ dean winchester masterlist !

#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #fluff #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester x female #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester smut #teen!dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester one shot #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #works #dean winchester angst #teen!dean winchester x fem!reader

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