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belle--ofthebrawl · 25 days

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For @forlorn-crows Mushy May 2023 day 23: Watching the other sleep

FOR @forlorn-crows MUSHY MAY 2024 DAY 2: MIDNIGHT SNACKS

Pairing: Mountain/Dew

Rating: T for mild sexual humor and dew complaining he doesn't have a libido.

Tags: Attempted Laundry, Attempted Robbery, Midnight Snacks, Mountain is silent but deadly, Fresh Mountain Air (derogatory). Arguably slice of life?

Summary: Yeah I don't even know what to tell you with this one. Dew and Mountain do laundry, get snacks and save the day...?

Word Count: 3252

They've been laying together in content silence for probably an hour. Mountain's the little spoon; Dew's shimmied his way up to throw an arm clumsily over Mountain's shoulders with a leg flung over the big guy's hip in a classic jetpack position. They're both naked save for boxers but the heat of skin on skin isn't really doing anything for them like it usually does. Dew's playing with Mountain's hair, Mountain's enjoying the sensation but. Just laying there without sleeping or fucking is making Dewdrop kind of twitchy.

Don't get it wrong, Dew loves a good cuddlepile but that comes with the sensation of being sandwiched between a bunch of other ghouls, something always moving, someone always purring and while he loves to play with Mountain's hair quietly like this, just the two of them, he can't relax if everything is too still. Even the HVAC unit in the room isn't working so the air is tepid and stale.

He takes a deep breath in to ask Mountain if maybe he wants to go for a walk or whatever when Mountain shifts and asks, "You wanna grab some snacks from that place across the road?"

Dew grins against Mountain's neck and praises Satan for the earth ghoul's ever hungry stomach. The day (or night) Mountain doesn't get up for a midnight snack is the day (or night) Dew will finally believe in body snatchers.

"There's a laundromat next to it, I think." Mountain continues. "Should probably wash whoever's clothes are in the suitcases."

"It might be shirts from Swiss." Dew says nonchalantly. "Some from Cumulus too, I think. Maybe." As if he didn't routinely pilfer everyone's clothes and was in fact using Aether's shirt as a pillowcase. Mountain makes a little "hrm" that tells Dewdrop he can't get away with anything.

"And your hoodie." Dew adds, rushed and quiet.

"You might as well keep it." Mountain says, shrugging off Dew's limbs so he sit up and stretch. Dew's eyes immediately go to the way his shirt rides up, exposing his happy trail covering the scant amount of pudge Mountain carries on his beanpole of a body but still. Nothing happens down south. He must be tired. "I like my clothes without burn marks.'

"That was one time and I said I was sorry." Dew snapped without any real bite, shrugging on the aforementioned hoodie while Mountain threw on jeans and a shirt. Dew shimmies into something that fits him, he's pretty sure it's Sunny's by the smell of mangos and when he sticks his hand in the pocket he fishes out a half eaten pack of dried strips. He places them respectfully on the nightstand; hell spawn he might be but other people's snacks were sacrosanct. Especially Sunny's.

"Grab your wallet." Mountain says, hefting three duffel bags with ease. "It'll be pay per load and hopefully they have a coin machine there."

"Wish I was pay per load." Dew mutters as he slips his cracked leather billfold into the hoodies pocket. They probably have enough to get a few rounds done, he thinks.

"So do I." Mountain says, going for the door. Dew tries to kick him but the bastard's long stilty legs take him quickly out of range and Dew has to take three steps for just one of his.

“That doesn't even make any sense, asshole.”

“Your asshole doesn't make any cents. That's why I said it.”

“I am not making a fart joke Mountain.”

“I wouldn't judge you if you did.” Mountain says with a shrug and they continue their walk in the same companionable silence of the bedroom. The night clerk gives them a quiet nod as she folds towels and Mountain salutes her as they head out with their bags. The night air hits them like a soft wall of water, the ambient temperature still warm and humid enough to feel sticky seconds after exiting the air-conditioned space of the lobby.

“Nuh-uh” Mountain says, putting his large hand over Dew’s skinny chest when they reach the road. “Look both ways.”

“Mountain, it's the middle of the night.” Dew says with a look of disbelief. He adjusts Mountain’s hand so the palm is fully over his pectoral but he still isn't horny. Goddamn. “This isn't a big city, no one is around.”

“Safety.” Mountain says serenely, glancing left, then right then left again before nodding and pulling away from Dew, who takes a moment to mourn the loss of his hand on his chest and his libido. They cross the street unharmed to the laundromat, glowing with bright fluorescent lights.

“We're on camera.” Dew notes, nodding at the faded printout on the door.

“So show’em your good side.” Mountain replies, shouldering the door open. Rows of machines greet them, neatly lined up over the linoleum that is calling out for a decent sweeping. They only look a little bit rusty and Mountain picks a washer out while Dew pulls his wallet out and thumbs out a few bills for a coin machine that promises to take up to twenty dollar bills. He feeds it two fives, ears twitching at the loud clatter of coins in the tray and scoops them up, heading for a similar machine with a detergent selection.

“It's seven dollars and fifty cents for one load on a deluxe machine.” Mountain informs him when he returns, looking frustrated. “I'm not separating the whites.”

“Worth it if it's done faster.” Says Dew with a shrug. He never separates his whites. He doesn't think Mountain even wears white. Aether, maybe. Swiss, for sure. Those paper thin t-shirts that hardly hid anything dry let alone soaked.

“Gimme the money.” Mountain says, finger gunning him. “Put it in the slot, nice and slow.”

“Noooo,” Dew says with a hint of whine. “Please, I need it to buy cigarettes and porn mags.”

It's so stupid but they burst out into quiet snickers anyway, jostling each other back and forth until Dew’s loaded up the tray and pushed it in. Mountain hits the settings and they leave the duffle bags on the counter for later. Dew flips off the camera as they go; Mountain covers up his hand and mouths sorry and they squeeze through the door at the same time in a half-hearted scuffle.

“Hope they have donuts.” Dew says, kicking a chunk of broken-off asphalt across the cracked parking lot. Mountain does the same, sending a waves of gravel and black top crumbs scattering. “Could go for a jelly Bismarck.

“Belly jismarck.” Mountain says.

“I’ll give you belly jismarck.” Dew mutters, bumping the big guy with his shoulder, shoving his hands in his pockets.”

“Promises, promises.” Mountain replies with the hint of a smile. “My treat, yeah? For the laundry.”

“Guess we'll call it even.” Dew says, easily slipping in ahead of him through the wide open door. There's another printout sign, politely informing them the AC was broken and it was management’s top priority to get it fixed. Lower and in smaller print was a date from several weeks ago.

Typical, honestly.

A few big fans are set strategically in corners and though some kind of motion sensor rings out bell when they enter, the clerk at the register doesn't even acknowledge them, watching something on her phone and chewing gum, playing with her colorful braids. Dew absently notes the shade as one Sunny had wanted to try. He thinks about asking if it's the same brand to see if she had any tips so he could help Sunshine, but decides it’s just better to not bother her.

The only other customer is a man in a unzipped hoodie debating over soda brands. He turns around with a orange soda and shuffles over to the candy aisle, giving them a decent look at the rude and bigoted phrase printed on his shirt before he tugged the hoodie close, one that implied he wanted more than just his laundry colors separated. Easy enough to ignore but Dew decides he’ll step in if the guy decides to be a jerk to the cashier.

“Goin’ for the sunflower seeds.” Mountain says, peeling away to shuffle down one aisle. Dew goes a few more down, nabs a little bottle of painkillers because Rain was complaining about his fingers hurting for longer than they should and some chapstick for Aether and the girls because the paint always dried out their lips and they were forever needing more. First aid run done, he picks up some hot chips and a soda before joining Mountain, who apparently can't decide between regular salted seeds and ones that are enticingly pickle flavored.

“Fuck’s sake.” Dew tells him. “Get them both.”

“Okay.” Mountain says. “Hang on, I want cake and then we'll check out.”

Dew wanders over to a rack of magazines and cheap puzzle books, wondering if he really needs another sudoku paperback but Aether enjoys doing them together so there's another fucking thing he has to carry. He's so absorbed in thinking about grabbing a cheap mystery for Cirrus that he barely notices it until he does. Under the hum of appliances, Dew's ear catches a faint hissing sound, like air being let quietly out of a balloon.

Mountain starts whistling like he always does when he's trying to get away with something and returns to Dew, snack cakes retrieved.

"Would you care for a Swiss roll?" Mountain says, sounding completely solemn with a straight face but still subtly looking immensely pleased with himself. Dew squints at him, suspicious. Then the man in the hoodie, who had been in the cake aisle the whole time, starts coughing and after a few moments, airflow from the fans causes the stench to reach them.

"Unholy fuck, Mountain!" Dew hisses, grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him away. "Really?"

"I didn't like the implications of the slogan on his shirt." Mountain holds out the stale bakery treat in an open palm. "The Swiss roll?"

"And everyone thinks I'm the trouble maker." Dew grouses.

"They never hear the quiet ones coming." Mountain says like it's some sort of wise statement.

"No shit." Dew says.

"I did not." Mountain replies. "Otherwise this would be an entirely different conversation."

Dew stares at the wall of snacks like it would give him an answer. All he hears is Mountain’s self satisfied chuckle.

He's damn lucky Dew likes him.

When they get to paying, Dew lays his bounty out and examines the cigarette display behind the counter. All colorful and I exciting ways to give humans cancer. He doesn't know if it'll ever affect his vessel and honestly he doesn't know if he'll be around long enough to find out but that’s a depressing thought.

That's when he spots it; a familiar white and blue box and he finds himself hit with an odd punch of nostalgia. Mist smoked that brand because it was easier to take a sharpie and scribble out the Y of the brand name, leaving just her name in fancy sea green font: MIST. Easiest way to keep the dicks she toured with from stealing her packs and Dew points to it. He gets it without needing to show ID and wonders if it means anything. Then decides he doesn't care. He opens the pack, shakes one out. Grabs a cheap lighter from the display and fiddles around with it as Mountain pays for their stuff.

"Lighters are one seventy five plus tax." The cashier says.

"I'm just testing it." Dewdrop replies. He lights his cigarette and puts the lighter back. The cashier looks at Mountain, who shrugs.

"He's just testing it."

The cashier's face took on the appearance of someone who suddenly decided they weren't paid enough to deal with this shit as Dew puts the lighter back and heads out to smoke while Mountain deliberates over stupid waiting line purchases like cheap plastic sunglasses that will break when he sits on them after forgetting he put them in his back pocket.

The guy with the hoodie is still hanging around with his purchases, hovering a few feet away from the door like he plans to sidle out with them, sans paying as he pulls at the hem of his sweatshirt. A dual side eye from two glamoured demons makes him step back. Not that they really care about shoplifting but like hell they want company.

They only take five steps before stopping, admiring the night sky. Mountain's chewing his way through a pack of seeds he's pulled out of the bag already. Dew thinks back to the man and the way he reeked of nerves and rancid sweat. The way he kept hanging out like he was waiting for something. The way he kept plucking his hoodie.

"Guy had a gun." Dewdrop says, exhaling a long stream of smoke.

"Yep." Mountain replies.

"You have any sunflower seeds left?"

Mountain side-eyes him, expression carefully neutral.

"Yop."

Dew grins and tosses his cigarette down, grinding it out with the heel of his shoe.

“You feel like playing superhero, big guy?”

____

Dipshit is already threatening the poor girl when they enter the store again. The motion sensor goes off, alerting him to their presence and he swings around, pointing the gun at them.

“Hey.” Dew says, addressing the shaking cashier. He struggles to remember the name on her tag. Something related to cats? A singer? “Miss Kitt, I changed my mind. I think I’ll pay for that lighter after all.”

“Get on the ground!” Dipshit says. “Or I swear I’ll shoot!”

“You can.” He says to Mountain, who is already starting to kneel, bag of seeds clasped in his sweaty hand. “I still want to pay for my lighter.”

He isn't going to shoot. Dew knew the second he clocked the weapon the guy was banking on the threat more than any action he might take. So he approaches the counter, hands up as the muzzle remains trained on him.

“You can shoot me if I make any sudden movements.” Dew tells the would-be thief. He prays to Belial he’s as invincible as he feels on stage because now would be a bad time to find out otherwise. Ignorance is bliss and if he believes he's bullet-proof then, well, who's to say he isn't? He could be. His belief could make him strong enough. He's fire-retardant, at any rate. Should count for something.

He really really hopes Dipshit doesn't clock the way Dew’s own hands are trembling as they hand over a few measly dollars to Kitt. She takes them in a hand that's shaking just as hard and taps in the amount on the register. They all jump at the sound of the drawer sliding out for change and Dew could laugh if he wasn't just as scared as any other human would be, the barrel of a nine millimeter trained on him.

He thinks it's a nine millimeter, at any rate. That's always the gun those detective novels have so it's all he has to go off of.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mountain flicking seeds over the floor, aiming for Dipshit’s boots.

“Twenty five cents.” Kitt says, eyes rapidly flickering between the crazy person trying to rob her and the crazy person acting like the robbery isn't happening. Dew stares at her, tries to communicate it's going to be okay with his eyes alone but he's no quintessence ghoul. For all the good he’s doing, she could might only see even more violence in his unblinking eyes. Dew takes his quarter.

“Thanks.” He says, keeping his tone warm and even. “Hey, you wanna see a coin trick?”

Before anyone can react, he turns swiftly, flicking the quarter straight at Dipshit's skull, terminal velocity but not terminal impact. It nails him square between his eyebrows and he yells, free hand flying to his forehead and that's when Dew moves. He grabs the arm holding the gun and aims it up, yelling for Mountain who snaps his fingers and all Dew sees is thick green stems bursting up, growing rapidly, twining around anything they can reach for support. One sprouts up between their bodies, pushing Dew to safety and deftly wrapping Dipshit up in sturdy greenery, a comically large blossom blooming as it grew up and up.

Something clicks above his head and Dew realizes it's the trigger. He feels like dying of some strange emotion; the cylinder is empty, there was never a threat to begin with.

“Oops.” Mountain says as it pushes harder and harder on the ceiling tiles until the cheap boards give way and the plants can grow, breaking through the wiring, lights flickering before going out. More and more of them, choking out every artificial advertisement, knocking over shelves and stands.

“Go!” Mountain yells, scrambling up and they go; two through the main door, Kitt through some employee entrance to the side. They run to the street, still, miraculously empty and turn around to watch mother nature's reclamation in awe.

“We're so fucked.” Dew mutters as they survey the gigantic ic greenery only grow larger and larger, mutant blooms bending on pillar-thick stems in search of sunlight.

“It was the adrenaline.” Mountain says defensively. "Let's blame it on Poison Ivy." .

"The," Dew splutters, turning to him. "The fucking DC supervillain? Mount, you know she's not real."

"Real to me."

"She's in love with that mannequin girl."

"Harley Quinn. I would never come between them, I just want to be near her."

"Fuckin' weirdo."

"Weirdo fuckin'." Mountain replies cryptically, reaching into his pocket for a fresh and unopened packet of seeds. The pickle flavored kind, Dew notes, some part of him wondering if the experience would have been any weirder if the flowers reeked of pickles.

You know you're supposed to spit the shells out, right?" He asks as Mountain eats a handful.

"Oh please, you love it when I swallow."

"Don't come crying to me about your torn asshole then." Dew crosses his arms. Mountain leans in close, nudging him so hard he has to brace himself to keep from falling.

"Mmm, delicious wood chips, I love fiber."

“We should go.” Dew says, hardly caring if Mountain makes fun of his wide grin. This is the best he's felt without a cheering audience involved. They saved the day. He helped a human. For being a demon, this whole “selfless” thing actually felt pretty good.

Mountain rummages around in th bag again, pulling out his stupid novelty shades and placing them on his face. Electric blue, with a yellow squiggle pattern and orange triangles.

"Sunglasses at night?" Dew asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't switch a blade on the guy in the shades." Mountain says, unwrapping a Swiss roll and taking a big bite. His other hand offers up the twin to the chomped one. Dew scoffs and grabs it, taking a bite and doing a very good job at hiding the way he gags over the stale spongy cake and old sugar of the frosting, thank you very much.

They get back to the hotel, sliding the key card into the door as the first police car drives up. As quietly as they can, they tiptoe back to their room and slide into bed, snuggling up together under the sheets. One minute passes. Two. Dew feels his eyelids finally grow heavy with sleep and sighs, cuddling up close to Mountain in a way he'll vehemently deny in the morning when it hits him.

"Mountain?"

"Sup."

"We forgot the fucking laundry."

#mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #dumb as hell tbh but it needed to come out

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snazzyturtles · 8 months

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“Backseat Lover”

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4

tsukishima x f!reader, nsfw, mdni

you and tsukishima have hated each other since the minute you moved into the house across the street from his. but when his car breaks down on the ride home, and you're stuck with him for the night, things are bound to happen

wc: 5 k

tw: enemies to lovers, car fucking, grinding, semi-public sex, unprotected, creampie, biting, marking, pet names (pipsqueak, shortie, baby), tsukki & reader are lowkey both tsunderes so prepare for smack talk

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

"sup pipsqueak-" tsukishima whispered in your ear as you opened your locker. you snapped your head around to look at him, yamaguchi snickering close behind him. you narrowed your eyes and rolled them.

"you do realize that it's pretty narcissistic to call anyone that's a centimeter shorter than you a pipsqueak, right beanpole?”

he chuckled a bit and leaned in closer. "pipsqueak" he whispered once more.

you grabbed your books from your locker, swinging and hitting him in the chest with it before turning around. "shut up kei~" you yelled over your shoulder as you walked away.

his eyes went wide, his back hitting the locker door he was pushed against. yamaguchi was bent over laughing at your actions as tsukishima simply stared at your back as you left, his breath catching. he didn't think you could hit that hard. "so the pipsqueak is still feisty…”

“i like feisty…” he whispered under his breath.

you and tsukishima had been like this ever since you moved into the house across the street from his in middle school. it was your final year in high school, and yet your dynamic had still never changed. you don't think you'll ever understand why he acted this way, picking on you nonstop, but you weren't someone who took that treatment. getting multiple classes with him and his friends this year definitely didn't help though, it only made you two have to see each other even more often.

he pushed himself off the locker and ran after you. ”hey, pipsqueak. you know i got my driver's license right?" he said smugly as he walked up to you.

you glanced in his direction with your eyebrow raised. "oh really? and that matters to me because…?”

"i don't know, pipsqueak, maybe because now you don't have to walk all the way home from school anymore? no wonder you’re still in shape, you have to cover a lot of ground.” he smirked at you.

you stared at him in silence for a bit, before sighing and looking away “...okay fine. whatever.”

"you actually want a ride?" tsukki’s smirk grew, “aweee, are you finally letting go of your pride and ego, pipsqueak?" he poked your cheeks, chuckling at you.

you rolled my eyes at him. "no, it's just probably going to be easier than walking home… i wanna give my legs a break.”

“awe, lazy little pipsqueak-“ he leaned down and spoke at you with a baby voice, before smirking and standing back up, looming over you. "but if you are thinking you're going to be sitting in the front, you’re wrong. the front seats are for big kids, and i don’t want to hear your smart mouth." he smirked at you.

you stared at him with furrowed brows, obviously upset and growing more annoyed as the conversation progressed. "are you serious? i'm already going to have to wait until after you finish volleyball practice, i think i deserve front seat rights.”

"nah, i'm the one doing you the favor. back seat or walk, pipsqueak~”

“…ugh fine! whatever. let's just… get to class and... figure this out later.” you mumbled under your breath, turning your head.

"hehe, shortie’s finally becoming submissive, as she should be. i knew it’d happen one day." he smirked at you and ruffled your hair as you entered the classroom. rolling your eyes, you sat down at your desk, looking away from him.

—————

you sat through the final two classes of the day, collecting your things and heading to the library. you wanted to stay as far away from him for as long as you possibly could, but when the hour passed and the library closed, you were required to go to the gym and watch tsukishima's volleyball practice.

you knew he played, seeing him occasionally play with his brother or friends in the neighborhood, but you had never actually seen him in action. he looked…. hot.

the sweat was dripping off his body, muscles flexing and panting hard as he practiced. his t-shirt was tight, sticking to his skin, and you could practically count his abs from where you sat. you had never noticed his physique, and while he was still just about as skinny as he was when you first met him, he had definitely buffed up over the years. you kept having to look down at your phone to act like you weren't staring at him, but it was definitely obvious to the boys in the gym- especially tsukishima.

he could feel your eyes, watching every move he’d make, every play he did, every dive he made. after practice ended for the night, he turned and looked at you for a moment, smiling and winked at you as he went to the showers.

his wink made you freeze, eyes glued to his back as he walked away and out of the room. did he notice you staring?

he soon came out of the locker room after a quick shower and changing into different clothes, walking towards the parking lot with you trailing after him and his long strides. once you got to the car, he opened up the door to the back seat, snickering as you rolled your eyes and threw your bag in the back, sliding in after it. he slammed the door shut, turning to open his and sit in the front. starting the engine, he looked back at you with a smirk, "tired pipsqueak?"

you looked at him with a dead stare and shook your head.

"no." you said, putting your headphones on as he backed the car out of its parking spot.

you sat in silence for a few minutes, and he couldn't stop himself from chuckling at the way you were acting. he could hear you muttering the words to the song you were listening to under your breath. "you know i can still hear you, right pipsqueak?” he spoke up louder, smiling at you through the rearview mirror.

you were staring out of the window, trying your best to ignore him as he drove out of the parking lot and got on the road that led to your side of town. it was late, and you were too tired and annoyed to deal with his teasing or even bother to give any back anymore. The car became silent once he realized you weren't going to interact with him, and he decided to just stare forward at the road he was driving on while you watched the dark scenery passing as you moved through the mountainside on your way home.

suddenly, the car jolted, making you lurch forward in your seat and hit the back of his as the car abruptly came to a stop.

“k-kei? what just happened?”

"hm?" his eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at you through the rearview mirror, cursing under his breath. "damn this car is old. it must be the alternator- pipsqueak, can you come and check with me?” he yelled over his shoulder as he got out of the car and headed towards the front.

your eyes were blown wide as you followed him out of the car, circling to open the hood. when tsukishima opened it, smoke began to come out.

"yeah, i think the car's dead... here let me call-“ when you looked down to turn your phone on, you noticed it wasn't turning on whenever you’d hit the on button. the battery had run out- your phone was dead.

"uh oh…"

he just sighed, closing the hood again with an obviously frustrated slam. that car was ancient, a hand-me-down from his older brother when he got a new one. he should've known this would happen sooner than later.

"well, shit. we’re gonna have to wait until someone passes by on this road to help, or walk to the house. you want me to carry you on my back?”

your eyes blew wide at his suggestion, not expecting him to volunteer to carry you like that. “i-let’s just wait for someone to come by… another car has to drive past at some point tonight, right?” you sat back down in the backseat as tsukishima stood with his back pressed against the side of the car. you were stuck.

"damn, why did this have to happen to us?” you buried your face in your hands.

his foot was tapping against the road from the state of stress that was shared between the two of you. you already looked so tired and upset, and it made him feel more agitated. "relax pipsqueak, i'm sure someone will pass by… we just have to be patient.” he sank to his knees and sat against the car, letting out a long sigh.

you groaned, flinging your head back against the seat to look out the sunroof. “ughhhh.”

"our luck, nobody's going to pass by until tomorrow morning. let's face it, nobody drives around this part of town this late at night. we're stuck kei.”

he looked up towards you, and then stared out into the road that stood ahead. you were probably right. "maybe we should just sleep then. i have a blanket in the trunk, it gets cold around this part of town at night so we’ll probably need it…”

“you can sleep on my lap if you want" he smirked up at you in addition to his side comment, taking you by surprise from his forwardness.

your face started burning bright red. ”y-yeah, i guess you're right.” you looked at the front of the car, before turning to look back at him as he stood up again. “i’ll probably have to do that though, you're so tall that i don't think the front seat will be very comfortable…”

tsukishima chuckled as he went to open the trunk and picked up a small blanket. he walked back towards you and handed you the blanket, smirking again. “you’ll have to be the little spoon today, shortie.”

he picked you up and placed you against himself, his chest pressing into your back and the small blanket laid on top of your waists. the feeling was awkward, and you lay there in silence as you stared at the back of the front seat. you rotated your head slightly to look back at him, whispering, ”h-hey kei? can i ask you a question?”

he looked down at you, and his hand began to play with the ends of your hair. "sure, pipsqueak. you can ask me anything." he murmured in a grumbly voice. when his hands started touching your hair, you froze, suddenly unable to think.

"why are you so mean to me, and then act like… this, sometimes? it… it's confusing..”

he stared at you, implying that this was not a question he was prepared for. he kept playing with your hair as he stayed silent, thinking. the silence was definitely awkward, and he could see how uncomfortable you were becoming. he decided to be honest with you, not wanting to lie to you anymore.

"i don't really know. your voice, your face, your personality, everything about you has always been just so annoying, but i think i’ve slowly begun liking you, i guess? i don't know if that makes sense.”

you slowly shifted your body weight to the other side, turning over to look into his eyes. you were face to face, close enough that you could feel his breath ghosting your nose as you looked up. "w-wait... what? you... you... like me?”

you were so close that he could smell the leftover scent of your strawberry shampoo in your hair, making his heart beat faster and have to hold back a moan. he looked into your eyes, your facial expression looking so cute for once. "i think i do pipsqueak."

he looked scared of his own words, that his feelings might ruin the relationship you shared. years of holding the idea of mutual hate and irritation, suddenly turning into love confessions in a cramped car seat. you stared at each other in silence for a minute, unsure of what to do, before tsukishima shifted and began to lean his head down and forward towards yours.

he leaned in closer and closer to you, and you could feel his warm breath right next to your lips. "pipsqueak~" he whispered, just before your lips met.

his lips were soft, and he kissed you kindly as his hand snaked around to hold the back of your head closer to him. he was being gentle with you for what felt like the first time, his mouth almost teasing yours from how light he was being. it took your breath away- you would've never thought you’d be doing this with him. when the kiss finally broke, you sat there, panting and staring into his eyes. he was still blushing, and just looking at you made his body tremble.

"that was... uh…” he looked at you with his eyes darting around in uncertainty. he just kissed you, and neither of you could believe what just happened. “uhhm… pipsqueak? can i kiss you again?”

you were shaking, your breaths coming out short and heavy. you definitely didn't expect that. "y-yes kei" you whispered. he leaned closer to kiss you once again, wrapping his arms around you so he could hold you even more closely.

"god i want you, pipsqueak.” he whispered in your ear while moving to kiss your cheek. you whimpered at his words, eyes squeezing shut. it made you blush- you weren't expecting him to say that.

he suddenly sat up, pulling you up onto his lap as he began to kiss you again, more passionately. faster. harder.

after the first two kisses, he definitely wanted more. he wanted you to be his, and only his. ”i think i might love you, pipsqueak.” he murmured under his breath. your breath caught at his words. love? kei tsukishima loved you? a moan left your throat as he continued to kiss you, your mind and thoughts blurred by all of this.

you both didn't want your lips to stop touching, feeling like you could finally be happy for once by just kissing each other. your lips were his heaven. he began feeling your body and running his hands through your hair as he started to kiss and nibble you on the neck. "baby, i want you so bad~" he whispered in your ear.

a long whine escaped your mouth as you felt his teeth tug at the skin on your neck, his hands beginning to trail under the back of your shirt. “w-w-want you too kei" you breathed out.

he let out a small exhale at your words, smirking to himself. his hand began to explore your body more, feeling the curves and bumps of your soft, sexy skin. he wanted to be with you right there, and he wanted you to be his. "you are so soft, pipsqueak-" he whispered as he kept kissing and licking at your neck.

your neck was so sensitive, more sensitive than you thought it could be. his actions were making you go crazy, and his hands touching you at the same time as his mouth was almost too much. the noises you were making were loud and constant. your hands began to trail from his shoulders down too, trying to trace his abs through his shirt.

his lips kept moving further down your neck, leaving hickeys as he kissed your neck like a starved man. "pipsqueak-" he whispered seductively into your ear, as if the nickname was now a dirty word.

you moaned loudly when you heard him say that, your head rolling back, exposing your neck even further. his hands lowered to your ass, gripping it and lifting you slightly to pull you closer to him. your chests were now touching, and you could practically feel all of him. your legs were on either side of his, pressed against each other so close you could feel the other’s breaths and small shivers. you could feel his body heat as you became closer and closer to him; your hips, your waist, your legs, all pushed against his.

he leaned in closer to kiss your neck, trailing his tongue from your ear along your jaw, tickling your throat. he could finally feel you, everything. you were one. his hands slowly tightened around to your hips, grabbing them and starting to pull them back and forth, aiding you in grinding atop him. the feeling made you whine even louder.

“p-pipsqueak..! o-oh my god..." his jaw dropped and his cheeks turned bright red when he began to feel your movements. his heart was racing as he tried to keep himself from making noises, but he couldn't help it. he was surprised that you continued grinding on him, but then again, he wanted this too- he wanted you. his body was becoming sensitive, reacting to your touches and movements. he continued to kiss your neck, slowly moving his tongue up the open skin as he felt your warm friction.

it felt so good, you felt closer to him than you could have imagined you’d ever be. your uniform skirt didn't leave much fabric between the two of you, just his pants and your small panties rubbing against him. "k-kei...aH" your voice caught when you felt his arousal poking you, at the same time as him biting your collarbone.

"p-pipsqueak, i have to..." he couldn't finish that sentence, he was becoming too sensitive to keep his cool. his hands were shaking, as he struggled to take off your skirt. his fingers found the buttons, quickly removing them and throwing your skirt into the seat next to you. he ran his hands under your shirt, warm fingers brushing against your skin as he began pulling your shirt and bra up and over your head at once. the air was cold, and your breathing was heavy as you sat atop him in only your panties.

"k-kei... please…”

it was hot now, and he was still wearing both his shirt and pants, the fabric now rubbing against your bare skin. you began to touch all over his body eagerly searching for more contact. you were so close to each other, your body on his, your legs wrapped around his waist, and he began to let his hands wander around your soft, smooth skin.

"baby... i want you so bad… i can't wait anymore.” he whispered in your ear as he started to kiss your body all over, his lips finding every inch of your skin as his fingers started to explore as well. he was sucking hard against whatever skin he could reach from his position, wanting to mark you, claim you.

your moans and whining became louder as his lips and hands went to places they hadn't touched before. you tugged at his uniform top, trying to quickly unbutton and take it off of him. you wanted to see him more, make it even between the two of you. he made a loud noise when you touched a sensitive spot, mumbling something about volleyball bruises, before gripping your hands and taking control. he wanted more, he needed more.

tsukishima quickly threw the rest of his shirt off and snaked his hand up from your thighs to your hips as he lifted you with one of his arms, the other reaching underneath himself to yank his pants down to his knees. placing you back down on his lap, where underwear was the only barrier that protected you from touching each other, making you whine louder and his eyes roll back once he felt your heat.

his heart started beating super fast, and he was sweating lightly in his anticipation. he could feel you, your thighs, your hips, your breath, everything. when you shifted your weight to lean in and kiss him again, it pressed his clothed cock against the wet spot in your panties, making him groan loud and shiver. god, you were his. he took off his boxers, making him more vulnerable to you. you were one, and you were more than just friends now.

he stared into your eyes as he slowly reached towards you, lifting you again, pulling your panties to the side, and lowering you down on his cock. the moan that left your mouth was deafening, and made his eyes roll back. you were lightly panting as you tried to slowly sink onto him, your eyes squeezed shut. “i should have known how long you’d be, considering how lanky you are.”

“shut up.” he grunted, bucking his hips as almost a punishment for your response, slamming balls deep into you. your mouth hung open and your head flung back, looking like you wanted to scream but couldn't. your expression turned him on even more, and he grabbed your hips, aiding them in moving on him.

you felt him slowly, gently, moving you up and down, your legs and arms wrapped around him like he was your safe place. his eyes were locked into yours, his hands holding you around him as if all he wanted was to keep you close to him, keep feeling you. your grip around his chest was practically choking him, your gummy walls squeezing and milking his cock. your breath was shaking and your legs were quivering as you started moving. “fuck! you’re so tight, baby.”

you wouldn't have believed it if you told yourself a few hours ago that you’d be doing this with tsukishima kei, fucking him in the back of a car on the side of the road, but here you were. enjoying all of it, whining and moaning at the top of your lungs for him.

”k-k-kei..." you couldn't form full sentences as your hips rocked back and forth against his.

your hearts were exploding as you moved. your body against his, it would be a sin not to enjoy it. he was feeling you all over with his large calloused hands, slowly and gently exploring you. he kept you close to him by holding your hips tight, nibbling at your neck and jaw. you were his lover now, and the world outside the car didn't exist. only the two of you, only intense pleasure.

you were mewling, it felt so good. his hands trailing your skin made goosebumps form and you shivered under his touch. "kei i-i.." a groan left your throat as you felt his cock bump your sweet spot.

hearing your moans, he couldn't keep his cool anymore. he felt like he was losing himself and that he was going completely insane from your touch. he began moaning and whispering praise into your ear, coaxing you to continue even more. "pipsqueak, please... don't stop."

you started moving quicker, bouncing up and down on his lap while your mouths were glued to each other. your stomach was beginning to feel twisted, and you couldn't help it when your whines got more constant. his body was twitching with every sensation that was made, and he had lost all his patience. he didn't want it to end, he wanted the night to go on forever.

he was sweating heavily even though it was cold inside the car. he felt crazy, insane, like he had lost every feeling of logic in his head, and it was all about you and him. his moans were becoming louder now, the sound of leather squeaking against hot skin amplified each time you moved.

"k-kei? i-i'm close" you whispered out. your legs were squeezing even tighter around his hips as you moved, almost like a warning.

he felt you, and your words made his heart stop. "baby... can i..." he looked at you, begging you for permission. "can i…” he whispered.

you nodded your head furiously, panting and looking into his eyes. ”yes... please.”

tsukishima felt like he was going to blow up, and he was begging you silently to just do it. his body was shaking so hard because of what you were doing to him. even though he was trying not to, he looked so desperate, staring into your eyes as you were riding him harder and harder. "baby, i'm all yours”

you felt him buck his hips, his cock ramming up and hitting that deep spot inside you that had you seeing stars, and that was the final thing to make you explode. you tensed up, practically screaming your whines out as your body shook around him, gripping his shoulders so hard you were sure your nails would leave indentations in the morning.

he was barely controlling himself, whimpering your name over and over again just hoping you were enjoying him as he was enjoying you. the look on your face, the way your eyes were squeezed shut, your voice mewling, your cunt squeezing and fluttering around his cock. everything about you was making him lose control. he closed his eyes and moaned loudly through gritted teeth. "ohhh my god baby… fuckkk…”

you felt him tense up, and his cock began twitching inside you as he came, a warmth spreading through your core. you looked up at him, both of you panting heavily as you leaned up to kiss him again.

the sounds of the two of you breathing mixed together, almost synchronized. he was panting heavily, but he continued to kiss and hug you like he couldn't get enough of you. when your mouths finally split, you started to lift yourself from his lap so you could sit on the seat next to him, only to feel his warm cum begin to drip out of your pussy once you began to move. you stopped, looking down, and shaking as a moan left your mouth at the feeling.

"pipsqueak, i, uhm, was that..." he looked a little bit scared, staying silent for once, waiting for your response and wanting to help you as much as possible, he didn't want anything bad to happen to you.

you nodded slowly, chuckling at his reaction. "it's you kei…” you looked back up at him, “-it’s okay, thank you.”

tsukishima stayed silent, still trying to process what happened. "thank you too, baby." he whispered to you. his face was still flushed, but he was starting to calm down. "are you okay? i didn't hurt you, did i?”

you looked into his eyes, smiling. ”i'm alright kei..." you giggled, "you've hit me with a volleyball before, many times. don’t worry about pain.” he smiled at you, he was glad you were okay. the conversation felt flat, almost nervous, but it was still sweet.

"yeah, that makes sense." he laughed gently. you shuffled off of his legs, sitting next to him in the backseat. the air between you two was awkward now, with the only sounds cutting the silence being the sounds of nature outside the car and the heavy breaths you were still making. "so what are we gonna do now?" he whispered, staring up at the night sky through the sunroof.

the stars above you were beautiful, the wind felt soft and peaceful. you looked up, watching the view above you as you tried to think about what just happened. “...don't really know to be honest…”

you took a breath and swallowed. "i mean, we could go back to acting like we hate each other, pretending this never happened…” you paused, glancing over to his face, then whispered, “...or do you want to do something else about it?”

"mmm, i don't think we can just forget about this..."

suddenly, a smirk crossed his face and he began to laugh a little under his breath.

"okay, i have to admit, the first time i met you, i thought you were gross and a pipsqueak, and i didn't expect that i would ever be in a situation like this with you. it's insane... but, i want to be with you now, i want to be your lover. can i be your lover? can i make you fall in love with me?" he asked with a soft voice.

you smiled, turning your head to look at him. "i have to be honest, i thought the same way about you. you were always cold and bitchy towards me from the start, and i didn't know why, so i had just decided to return that back towards you... and now? i don't think i can do that anymore.” your reached up, brushing some of his fallen, sweaty hair away from his brow. "i think i might like that though.”

tsukishima took your hand in his and softly smiled. he wasn't the same guy you knew, he was different now, he was vulnerable. he whispered to you. "i never want to be away from you, i want to share everything with you. i’ll be your lover. i'm yours now.”

a soft smile spread as you nodded, leaning up to press a small kiss on the tip of his nose. his whole body was filled with butterflies and he was blushing hard at your response. "pipsqueak, you are adorable." he leaned into you again, resting his head on top of yours, burying his face in your hair. "can we stay here for the rest of the night? just the two of us?" he mumbled, sighing, "don't wanna leave.”

you nodded, shuffling to be closer with him, curling your body to press with his. you grabbed at the small blanket that had long since fallen to the floor and draped it over your bare bodies cuddled next to each other. you knew that in the morning, things would be different. things would change. and you couldn't determine if that would be a good or bad thing, but at that moment, it was just you two, in your own little world of the backseat. you fell asleep with his warm arms wrapped around you, your face tucked into his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths as you drifted off, not waking until the sun rose the next morning.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

a/n: the fic was named after a song they play nonstop where i work & it lowkey matched the fic a lot lol, if you wanna listen to it as a prerequisite it's "back seat lover" by mayer hawthorne :)

tag list, comment to be added ^-^

@tsukiran , @msbyomimi , @sun-yo , @leenmizeke , @kei-tsuki21 , @hissy-fit18 , @totallynoanalien , @riiceandsoup , @ks-tsukki , @qyiyiqng , @yuri-2004 , @c1nn-amon , @em-writes-posts , @longhairandnormalhairtsukkisimp , @goryki , @blackreadersalty , @dinotittes , @utaralita-blog

if your username is bolded, your blog isn’t showing up for me to tag! i’m sorry!

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raz-writes-the-thing · 6 months

Text

second masterlist

this masterlist is closed (has hit the link limit). please see masterlist masterpost for more works.

fandoms are in alphabetical order.

BAD SAMARITAN

Cale Erendreich x Reader

Headcanons

Cale NSFW Alphabet 18+

Cale x GN!Reader comfort HCs

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Violent in Nature - (Cale Erendreich x FTM!Reader)

Cale catches you doing something you shouldn't be.

Eight-Legged Horror - (Cale Erendreich x GN!Reader)

There's an eight-legged horror in your lunchbox. Cale is not impressed with your response to it.

Not The Bamboo Sheets - (Cale Erendreich x GN!Reader) 18+

Cale has some bratty behaviour to correct.

Focus Please - (Cale Erendreich x GN!Reader)

Cale takes care of you when you get a nosebleed.

What's For Dinner? (Cale Erendreich x GN!Reader)

Cale catches you eavesdropping on his phone call.

BOYS (THE)

Billy Butcher x Reader

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Something New - (Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader) 18+

Slapping Billy doesn't go the way you think it would.

Little Kreature - (Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader)

The mission goes well and Butcher's found a surprise for you.

Soldier Boy x Reader

Drabbles (600 words or less)

My Command - (Soldier Boy x GN!Reader)

Soldier Boy knows just how to push your buttons.

BROADCHURCH

Alec Hardy x Reader

Headcanons

Alec Hardy NSFW Alphabet 18+

Alec Comfort HCs

Full-Length Fics (600 words plus)

A Reception Worth The Miss - (Alec Hardy x Fem!Reader) 18+

You were pretty far from where the ceremony had taken place by now and you were sure you were probably missing the opening bits of the reception.

New Years - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader)

Neither of you have had a New Years kiss before- it's time that changed.

Gallery Shenanigans - (Alec Hardy x Masc!Reader) 18+

Alec gives you a handjob in the art gallery bathrooms

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Beanpole Icepack - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader)

Alec runs cold. You run hot. Match made in heaven.

Ask Me Again In The Morning - (Alec Hardy x Masc!Reader)

Alec's drunk when he confesses his feelings for you.

The Way You Taste - (Alec Hardy x Fem!Reader) 18+

Alec loves the way you taste.

Nip To The Park - (Alec Hardy x GN!Reader)

Alec discovers your newest yappy crime.

DOCTOR WHO

Missy x GN!Reader hcs 18+

Tenth Doctor x Eleventh Doctor x Reader

Full-Length Fics (600 words plus)

The Opposite Effect - (Tenth Doctor x Eleventh Doctor x GN!Reader) 18+

Was it a mistake riling the two of them up? Possibly. Will you do it again? Most definitely.

A Little Paradox Never Hurt Nobody - (Tenth Doctor x Eleventh Doctor x Fem!Reader) 18+

It's been six months since Eleven joined you both, and it's safe to say things have escalated a little.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Keep 'Er Steady - (Tenth Doctor x Eleventh Doctor x GN!Reader) 18+

It's about time you learnt how to fly the TARDIS

Tenth Doctor x Tentoo x GN!Reader

Headcanons

NSFW general headcanons

Tenth Doctor x Reader

Headcanons

NSFW ALPHABET

Ten with shy singing reader

Dark!Ten aftercare HCs

Ten x AFAB!GN!Reader eating out hcs 18+

Ten x Tall!GN!Reader HCs

Ten x Short!GN!Reader HCs

Subby!Ten x GN!Reader HCS 18+

Full Length Fics (600 words plus)

Need A Ride? - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader) 18+

You’d fucked him many times, of course, but never like this. Never on top.

Oval Office Adjacent - (Dark!Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader) 18+

The Doctor gets a little jealous when an alien race turns its carnal sights on you.

Unbidden - (Dark!Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader) 18+

The Doctor's gone too far this time.

Sometimes All We Need Is A Good Cry - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

It's all in the title, babes

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Worth It - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

It might be time to reflect on the choices that brought you here.

Devoid of Attention - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

The Doctor is oblivious as per usual.

The Whole Time - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

The Doctor finds your love letters.

Fun Tonight - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader) 18+

Overstimulation with the Doctor

Mine - (Dark!Tenth Doctor x Fem!Reader) 18+

Dark!Ten would do anything to keep you with him.

Not For Lack of Squirming - (Dark!Ten x GN!Reader) 18+

Oral with Dark!Ten

Merry Christmas, Doctor - (Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader)

The Doctor plans a Christmas holiday

Eleventh Doctor x Reader

Full-Length Fics (600 words plus)

Still Out There - (Eleventh Doctor x GN!Reader)

There were few things you’d never seen by this point, but the Doctor crying? That was definitely not something you’d seen before.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Do It Together - (Eleventh Doctor x GN!Reader)

Prompt: “When have I ever been wrong? … except about women. Generally.”

Unplanned Surprise - (Eleventh Doctor x GN!Reader)

You have an unplanned surprise to tell the Doctor about.

President of the World - (Eleventh Doctor x GN!Reader)

You don't believe the Doctor when he tells you he's President of the World.

Twelfth Doctor x Reader

Headcanons

Twelfth Doctor NSFW Alphabet

Full-length Fics (600 words plus)

Decidedly Not A Design Flaw - (Twelfth Doctor x GN!Reader) 18+

The Doctor catches you fantasising about his hands.

No More Leaking - (Twelfth Doctor x GN!Reader)

The Doctor discovers you're not sleeping well.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Magazine Florets - (Twelfth Doctor x GN!Reader)

Catch and release prompt "animals"

Unofficial Fifth Member of the Beatles - (Twelfth Doctor x GN!Reader)

the Doctor has a new and unexpected accessory.

Terrible Idea - (Twelfth Doctor x GN!Reader)

The Doctor catches you watching Jurassic Park. Again.

Better? - (Twelfth Doctor x GN!Reader)

The Doctor comes to realise his lack of physical affection has been having more of an impact than he thought.

GOOD OMENS

Aziraphale x Crowley x Reader

Headcanons

Reader with long hair HCs

Aziraphale x Reader

Full-Length Fics (600 words plus)

Sinning With Lust - (Aziraphale x GN!Reader) 18+

Aziraphale catches you reading a spicy novel.

New Year's Kiss - (Aziraphale x GN!Reader)

Aziraphale asks to be your New Year's kiss.

Scar Tissue - (Aziraphale x FTM!Reader)

It's been one year since your top surgery.

Snowed In - (Aziraphale x GN/GF!Reader)

It's time you came out to Aziraphale as genderfluid.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Very Entertaining - (Aziraphale x GN!Reader)

Aziraphale cannot fathom why you enjoy horror movies so much

Spent and Sated - (Aziraphale x GN!Reader) 18+

Aziraphale knows you can take one more load.

Crowley x Reader

Headcanons

Reader with period HCs

Karaoke with Crowley HCs

Full-Length Fics (600 words plus)

You Didn't Say The Magic Word - (Crowley x GN!Reader)

Crowley isn't the biggest fan of your house guest.

First Picnic - (Crowley x Fem!Reader) 18+

You talk Crowley into going on a picnic date with you.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

An Unexpected Cosplay - (Crowley x GN!Reader)

Crowley is small, and a pain in your ass.

Talk To Me - (Crowley x GN!Reader)

Crowley never fails to comfort you when you need it. Particularly when your mother is involved.

The Way You Look Tonight (Crowley x GN!Reader)

You might be sick, but you'll be damned if you don't get this dance.

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Headcanons

Daemon x Masc!Knight!reader hcs

Full-Length fics (600 words plus)

A Fruit So Sweet - (Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader)

Daemon's noticed you before, and tonight he makes his first move.

Something In The Way - (Daemon Targaryen x GN!Reader) 18+

You reflect on the way Daemon touches you.

Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader

One-Shots (600 words plus)

Gaze of the Moon - (GN!Reader)

You and your wife, Princess Rhaenyra steal a moment of peace together as you prepare for the coming birth of your child.

MARVEL

Eddie Brock/Venom x Reader

Headcanons

Venom x GN!Reader Relationship HCs

Full-Length Fics (600 words plus)

Is That A Promise? - (Eddie Brock/Venom x GN!Reader)

Telling you about Venom does not go entirely how Eddie planned.

Naughty Thoughts - (Eddie Brock/Venom x Fem!Reader) 18+

Venom discovers your dirty thoughts about him and his tongue.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Sweet Like Chocolate - (Venom x GN!Reader)

Venom's enjoys it when you're his host.

Safe Together - (Venom x GN!Reader)

Venom has a confession to make to you.

Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Drabbles (600 words or less)

A Hug? - (Loki Laufeyson x GN!Reader)

You ask Loki for a hug. He's very Loki about it.

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH

Ed Teach/Blackbeard x Reader

Full-Length Fics (600 words plus)

On Your Knees, Love - (Ed Teach x GN!Reader) 18+

You find out Ed has a thing for having his hair played with.

Stede Bonnet x Reader

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Show Business - (Stede Bonnet x GN!Reader)

Stede is teaching you a thing or two about piracy.

PRODIGAL SON

Martin Whitly x Reader

Headcanons

Martin Whitly NSFW Alphabet

Giving Martin head after dinner hcs 18+

Martin Whitly x GN!Reader Snuggle HCs

Full-Length Fics (600 words plus)

Study Bunny - (Martin Whitly x GN!Reader) 18+

You ride Martin's thighs.

Doctor's Orders - (Martin Whitly x GN!Reader)

You're feeling unwell. Good thing there's a doctor on hand.

SIX OF CROWS / SHADOW AND BONE

Kaz Brekker x Reader

Full-Length Fics (600 words plus)

Passing The Baton - (Kaz Brekker x GN!Reader)

To your knowledge, your crush on Kaz is unrequited. Apparently, this is not the case.

Paying Attention - (Kaz Brekker x GN!Reader)

You're a little clueless, but the Crows are trying their best to get you to see the light.

Heated Gaze - (Kaz Brekker x GN!Reader) 18+

Kaz likes to watch you play with yourself.

SUPERNATURAL

Team Free Will x Reader

One-Shots (600 words plus)

Monthly Pity Party - (AFAB!GN!Reader)

Your cramps are kicking your ass this month, though you do wish the boys would quit throwing pity parties for you.

Castiel x Reader

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Sudden Appearances Make For Good Times - GN!Reader 18+

Castiel learns his best moves from the pizza man.

Casifer x Reader

Drabbles (600 words or less)

The Odd Cuddle - (GN!Reader)

Flirty Casifer cuddles. That's it, that's the fic.

Dean Winchester x Sam Winchester x Reader (no Wincest)

One-Shots (600 words plus)

Anything You Need - (GN!Reader)

The boys discover you've been having some... unpleasant thoughts.

Dean Winchester x Reader

One-Shots (600 words plus)

Cute As A Button (AFAB!GN!Reader) 18+

smut prompt based on the word "button."

A Very Bisexual Revelation (Cis!Masc!Reader) 18+

Dean Winchester's never had trouble with the ladies, but this is brand new territory for him.

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Hurricane Dean - (Dean Winchester x GN!Reader)

All Dean wants is a vacation. If only the MOTW would allow such a thing.

Sam Winchester x Reader

One-Shots (600 words plus)

Bored and in Need of Entertainment - (GN!Reader)

You're bored and it's Sam's turn to entertain you.

Polish and Shine - (GN!Reader)

Sam chews on his nails a lot. Too much. You come up with a plan to break the habit.

WALKING DEAD (THE)

Negan Smith x Reader

Drabbles (600 words or less)

Not Part of the Plan - (Negan Smith x GN!Reader)

Negan discovers that you've been sent to spy on the Sanctuary

A Good Show - (Negan Smith x (cis)Masc!Reader) 18+

Negan likes a good show. He also likes seeing you handle Lucille. Match made in heaven.

#doctor who #marvel #masterlist #second masterlist #shadow and bone #six of crows #ofmd #our flag means death #good omens #broadchurch #bad samaritan #the boys #the walking dead #house of the dragon #supernatural

140 notes · View notes

sylenth-l · 2 months

Note

How tall would you say each character is, like warlocks and the hunters and Saint? (Timur, Osiris, Felwinter)(Cayde, Andal, Shiro,Tevis) like, do you have any head canons for that?

(Oh man, I remember I got similar question once, I wanted to do a proper lineup to answer that, but failed to do so in the end 😭)

I'm not sure about the exact height of each character, but I do have a rough idea of how they stand compared to each other! Also my general rule is that Felwinter is the tallest (with Big Red being the only exception taller than him) and Tevis is the shortest, so everyone else are somewhere in between and are measured by these two extremes. Also I must mention I'm not very consistent in terms of heights... Sometimes I just. fail to draw the proper height difference for various reasons OTL

For those you've mentioned, I'm pretty sure about the hunter pack - Shiro is the tallest among them, Cayde and Andal are roughly of the same height (but Cayde ofc always says he's taller because The Beautiful Horn), and Tevis is the shorty (sorry Tev, no offence). But in general their height difference isn't too dramatic, aside from Tevis, I think. For the others - well, as I said, Felwinter is the beanpole here. But Saint is also very tall, so I think he's maybe like only half a head shorter?.. Timur and Osiris both aren't short objectively speaking imo, but compared to these two marvels of Exo engineering of course they seem rather tiny 😅

I really want to do an all characters (those I frequently need, at least) lineup one day..........

#ask #anonymous #tevis probably doesn't even reach fel's chest with the top of his head lol orz #well he's a nightstalker so it's an advantage #yeah

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 8 months

Text

Morgana AU Pt 4

Sarrum isn't invading. That much is clear when they begin to pass Camelot soldiers on the road near the city, and not one of them gives the host or their captives a second glance.

Within the city walls at least, stares and whispers follow them, as shocked citizens watch them paraded through the city streets in chains. Gwen remains silent through it all, seeming to retreat into herself as they near the palace.

They seem to be expected, and though Sarrum and his lieutenants split off to enter the main gate of the palace while the captives are funneled through the servants entrance, their destination is the same-- the main hall, where a pair of great wooden doors swing open to admit them all.

"Your Majesty!" Sarrum bellows amiably, lifting both arms in greeting. "An honor and a privilege to be a guest of Camelot once more."

Kara surveys the court, specifically the dais on which the king sits. His throne is relatively modest, and his knights are stationed around the room on high alert. Just behind the throne, however, stands a beanpole of a young man with dark hair, chin ducked as though guilty of a heinous secret.

In an instant, Kara knows this is Merlin.

She's heard of the boy, the servant who'd poisoned Morgana with a waterskin. She remembers Morgana's soft words to Gwen shortly before they all left the hut behind.

"I died, Gwen," she'd murmured beside the fire, while Kara had been outside fetching more wood.

Gwen's shock had been palpable in the silence that followed, before she tucks away what are undoubtedly countless questions to focus on the one thing that matters.

"But you came back."

Morgana sighed then. "Perhaps."

Whether Morgana had ever shared the identity of her murderer with Gwen, Kara doesn't know, but in this moment what she does know is that Morgana's two greatest enemies stand in this hall.

The king-- Arthur-- rises from his seat. His knights shift in readiness.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Arthur's voice is calm and measured, but Kara hears the hint of a threat. Likely, a parade of dirty captives into his throne room isn't an often occurence.

"A gift for your majesty," Sarrum announces with pride. "And for the jewel upon the crown--!"

Sarrum throws his arm back towards the great doors, and the crowd of his men parts to admit one of their own tugging on a chain. At the end of it is Morgana, hands and neck locked into a set of narrow wooden stocks, eyes glassy with fever.

If Kara could break her chains she would, but instead she simply holds her breath, relieved that her friend is alive. Her eyes flick towards the dais, and is surprised to see the king's shock mingle with a mix of concern and outrage.

The soldier hands the chain to Sarrum once within reach, who immediately gives the leash a rough pull, jerking Morgana off her feet. She lands hard on her knees with a crack that echoes in the great hall, and is given no time to recover before Sarrum grabs her by the hair to wrench her head back.

"The lady witch herself!" he announces.

Morgana grunts, breathing heavily against the pain and fever, but says nothing.

"Morgana..."

Clearly dumbfounded, Arthur stares at the prize offered to him. His jaw works soundlessly, unable to speak.

Someone does it for him.

"End this, Arthur!"

Gwen pushes past Kara to stand in the open, as far as her chains allow. At the sight of her, Arthur goes pale.

"Gwen?"

A cascade of whispers ripples across the assembled nobles.

"End this," she says again, urging her husband to listen. "Please. It isn't right--"

"Silence!"

A guard steps forward to strike her, but halts when a blade touches his neck from behind. Gwen straightens from her reactive flinch, and relaxes at the sight of her brother holding the hilt.

"Elyan..."

"It's good to see you," he says with a soft smile. Gwen nods, and returns her attention to Arthur.

"Let her go, Arthur."

At that, Merlin steps out from behind the throne to murmur in the king's ear. "Use caution, your Majesty. She is no friend to Camelot."

Kara's hands tighten into fists. Gwen, too, bristles. "People can change," she points out sharply. "Clearly, if you have come to treat with a man as cruel as Sarrum."

Arthur's jaw tightens, but to his credit doesn't otherwise react to the barb. Kara watches as he considers his option, waiting for his decision.

Finally, he looks to Sarrum.

"Release them."

Gwen releases a breath, even as Sarrum sputters in protest. "But your Majesty--!"

"I said release them!" Arthur presses, tone sharpening to a deadly edge. "All of them."

Sarrum hesitates, as though debating whether to defy the order. In the end, he motions sharply to his men, and in moments the captives are released from their irons. Kara and Gwen rush to Morgana's side as the stocks are removed from her neck, and she slumps forward into Gwen's arms.

Gwen cups Morgana's cheek and looks sharply to Kara in fear. "She's burning up!"

"The arrow--" Kara rips the fabric at Morgana's shoulder, and sure enough the shaft is still there, festering.

"Gaius!" Gwen calls. She looks around her sharply, pinning Arthur with a hard stare. "We need Gaius!"

Arthur swallows thickly, yet nods to his nearest man. "Percival."

"Arthur..." Merlin says in a low warning.

"She has done many terrible things," Arthur concedes, "but she is still my sister."

Kara watches as Percival-- a positively mountainous man-- tucks Morgana against his chest and lifts her into his arms. Morgana moans, eyes rolling back in effort to remain conscious.

Gwen and Kara follow Percival out of the throne room and through the castle, ignoring the stares from servants and vassals alike, up and up a winding staircase until bursting into what could only be a healer's chambers. A narrow cot is cleared of strewn clothes, and Morgana is laid upon it with as much care as Percival can manage. Still, it jostles the shaft in Morgana's shoulder and she groans in agony.

"Careful, careful," an elderly man urges, bustling towards them with rags and cutting implements. "Merlin--"

"Right," the boy says, moving obediently to undress Morgana's wound as though he hadn't just been advocating for her misery.

Kara intercepts him with a growl.

"Don't you touch her!" Her fists bury themselves in his shirt, arresting his movement. She releases him with a shove. "Don't you touch her."

"I'll do it," Gwen says urgently, already peeling away the blood-dried fabric to reveal the wound. "It pierced through as well."

"Then we have double the work to do," Gaius observes, his voice steady. "We shall do what we can--"

"No," Kara clips out, turning her glare from Merlin to Gaius. "You will do what you can. Not him."

"Very well," Gaius agrees. He gently moves Gwen to the other side of the cot, where she immediately moves to press a cold compress against Morgana's brow. The healer passes his gaze across the rest of them. "Clear the room."

"But--" Arthur begins to protest, but not even a king holds sway in a healer's domain.

"I require space to work, and fresh air to clear the lungs and cool the body. You may post a guard at the door if you must, but we must not be disturbed."

Arthur reticently nods, and motions to his men, tugging Merlin along with him. The boy glares balefully at Kara, who glares back in equal measure until the door swings shut behind the lot.

That Gwen and Kara both remain behind goes unremarked upon.

"Now, then," Gaius says, looking to his new assistant. Gwen glances up at him, features lined with worry. "It will not be pleasant, but we must work quickly."

Removing the arrow shaft releases a musk of pus and infection that quickly fills the room, the open windows hardly enough to help. The one blessing they have is that Morgana loses her battle to remain conscious, and goes limp before they can even begin to clean the wound and clear the infection.

"How long?" Gaius asks.

"Three days," Gwen returns. She provides what little information she can, but Kara remains quiet, arms folded as she stands watch against any who may enter. All the while, her gaze remains focused on Morgana, trying her hardest not to imagine Lena on that cot, Lena fighting for her life.

It's going to be okay, Kara thinks to herself.

It has to be.

#supercorp #morgana au #got some more for yah!#hopefully its a bit juicy #more to come

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uncouth-the-fifth · 2 years

Text

(you are a) natural, baby - Sam Winchester/Reader

read it on ao3.

Pairing: Virgin!Sam Winchester/AFAB!Reader (vaguely s1 or 2) Tags/Warnings: blowjobs, deepthroating, Impala sex, whiny/submissive Sam (with hints of the opposite). nothing too insane. yk the deal. Word Count: 11034 Notes: hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. i've been. thinking about sam lately. and i MAY or may not have had the most vivid wet dream of my life... which may or may not have inspired this slightly........... enjoy! there will be a sequel btw ;) for plot's sake, yes, Sam is 23 and is still a virgin 🍾 Ask to be added to my taglists for future posts!

You couldn't believe your luck.

You notched the car into park, lips parted in disbelief. Holy shit. Rain bore down on the car from all sides, making an already dark night impossible to walk in, nevermind drive. Baby—or the Impala, you corrected yourself, since Sam always poked fun at you for picking up Dean's little nickname—had puttered out her last huff of warm air a few miles back. That left at least another hour’s worth of driving until you were back to Dean, who was waiting back where your present job was. There was no way you could get back in this weather. It'd be past midnight soon anyway, so…

You played your fingers on the wheel. Bent over it, squinting at the rain. Slumped back in your seat. All the while, Sam watched you go through the motions passively. He already knew what you knew: you'd have to camp here for the night. Just the two of you. Alone.

The universe had done everything short of smashing you together like kissing barbies. In this week alone, the messy line of feelings between you and Sam had been tested at least a hundred times. It was obscene. Ever since Sam's twenty-third birthday, all the forces of nature had woken to remind you at every turn how stupid horny you were for him. Sam was no longer the beanpole you could easily throw while sparring; there was a man in your passenger’s seat, a good deal taller than you on miles and miles of leg, with handsome, veiny arms and a lap made for sitting in. Your childhood crush had been nursed so long that it'd grown into love. But now that you were a twenty-five-year-old, full-time hunter, there was little room for a childhood novelty. You had instead made space for a covetous, needy desire that the universe loved to throw in your face.

Monday. Sam had helped Dean out with one of the less-than-junk cars in Bobby's yard, bent up under the bonnet, sweat and grime making his tee cling to the landscape of his back. And Jesus, what a landscape it was… Sloped and firm with experienced, long-developed muscle. Tuesday. Dean got on the subject of blowjobs, and Sam immediately got off the subject. Significantly, you learned he's never had one. Your mouth watered just sitting next to him. Wednesday. You risked using the last towels in the pile for your shower, each just big enough to close and cover your modesty—if you don’t stand up straight. Sam caught you coming out of said shower. He looked, looked some more, and you sniped at him for it around the saliva building in your mouth. All you wanted to do was claw his jeans around his ankles and blow him until he forgot his name. Sam lingered like he wanted the exact same thing, and both of you pretended to ignore the tent in his pants. Thursday. Sam coached you in long-bowing. You stood just inches apart in an empty field, Sam's shoes between your in the grass, and you fucked up every damn shot because Sam's massive hands were on your waist and your hips and in your belt-loops. He'd lean in until he was almost kissing the shell of your ear and say, S’ alright. Just focus on your footing. You're doing great, even though you hadn't hit a single target. Friday. You, him and Dean left for a North Dakota case. You had to share a bed with one of the boys, and Sam reminded you what sharing meant the whole night, huffing soft moaning breaths against the back of your neck in his sleep.

You resist the urge to clamp your thighs together. It'd been freezing cold in your room and you’d been sharing beds since you were young; to have just your backs pressed together was impressive. At one point, you turned over and Sam stretched back to meet you, his warm spine flush to your chest without hesitation, flaying you instantly. He’d seeped back into the mattress as content as could be. You resisted the urge to run your fingers through his floppy hair, or caress the smooth strip of flesh that the seam of his shirt didn't cover. You failed at the first—but to be fair, Sam's hair was in your face and it was annoying you and you had to be close, because the room was so cold. And your hand just ended up there. And then it ended up under his shirt, your nails stroking his stomach, because Sam was a tease who'd dragged your arm around him in the first place. He'd been shaking, it was so cold. You couldn't just let him freeze. Regardless, it was hard to say no to him when he was smoothing your palm against his ribs like that.

“Think we can make a run to get the blankets from the trunk?” Sam invited. “I can do it if you give me the keys.”

You wanted to say more to that, but you settled instead on taking the keys out of the Impala and dropping them in Sam’s waiting hand. “Thank you,” you murmured, and Sam bobbed his head once before braving the weather.

He was gone for less than a minute, but the clinging silence that rang in your ears could’ve gone on forever. The rain pounded across the car with a vendetta, plunking off the metal and hammering over your empty parking lot just as hard. It raced down the glass fast enough to make the outside world a shimmering blue mirage. Sam’s figure was a darker silhouette closer to the glass, and you busied yourself putting a sweater on as he dove inside.

“Dammit,” Sam cursed. He knew better than to shake his hair out on Dean’s good leather, so he tossed down the blankets in between you—and there was a generous gap—to hunt around the backseat for a towel. The amber streetlights gave you just one glimpse of Sam’s rain-streaked face. It shouldn’t have flushed your belly with want as much as it did, but that’s half the reason you were in this mess.

“S’ bad out there,” you said, obviously. Sam agreed with a hum, and together you sorted yourselves for relaxing before you slept.

Before, you’d had the car on and the heater going, so you were mostly okay with your jackets tossed in the backseat. Sam had on a tee and a moss-colored sweater to keep him warm, and you had the thought of his firm muscle underneath those layers to keep you warm. Though more cold had seeped back into the Impala, you didn’t put on your jacket, toeing off your boots in the footwell. You piled on your blankets and curled up against the seat, Sam doing the same. He hadn’t put his jacket on either.

You shared a glance. Well, it was more like Sam was already looking at you and you caught him, flushing up to your ears. “There’s no way we won’t make it there til morning,” he said, “I’ll text Dean.”

“Good idea,” you agreed. You brought your legs closer to your chest, bumping Sam’s thigh with a stray foot. To your surprise, he glanced up at you at the contact, and again you found one of his coy glances. You couldn’t believe it. Was he...?

All four burners in your body flicked onto a simmer at the same time. You bit your lip, taking him in as he was illuminated by his phone’s screen, wet twisting curls of hair in his eyes. “S’ okay. I don’t think Dean will care, with how slow this case is going. Though I can guess why you’re so eager to get back,” you tested the waters with a sly smile. “That witness—Miss Checknik, she was really aiming to get you alone, huh?”

Sam was still raw from Dean pressing his buttons on this, so he was shier than usual when he mumbled, “It’s… not like that… I’ve never even done that before.”

“What?” you blurted. “Had sex?”

Sam’s gaze snapped up to yours. Around you the rain roared, but you still caught his subtle hitch of breath. His pause went on for another telling amount of time, until Sam’s ears were red too. “...It’s not like you have either,” he muttered.

This had to be on purpose. You tossed an arm over the back of the seat, knuckles against your cheek and a growing, sly smile on your face.

Sam sat up. “You’re kidding. Really?”

You slouched, huffing. “What, is that a surprise or something?”

“No,” Sam spoke a little too quickly, like he’d been thinking about it. He swallowed. “No, not at all. I was just…”

You wet your lips and let your eyes drift over him. Sam sat stiff in your passenger's seat, legs crossed a little too tightly, his hands folded together over his lap, hiding a building, jealous hard-on. A muscle jumped in his neck. The shivery warmth that reigned over you every time Sam entered the room conquered you again, watching him squirm, and you couldn't help but do the math. You could… you could make an offer. If he said no, that was fine. All you’d have to do was endure a night's sleep in the car with him then a few awkward days afterward—but you and Sam had done that dance a hundred times before, after kissing for spin-the-bottle or getting caught lusting after each other, so maybe this was it. This week had been filled with omens.

You went all in.

“We travel a lot and it relieves stress, so… I’ve picked up a few dates. Bar-flings, heat-of-the-moment stuff with hunters, every once in a while.”

You risked a glance at him through your lashes. Sam had inched closer to listen, just enough for you to notice, and was clearly trying to sculpt his face into something less interested—but his eyes were glazed and his attention was rapt. You had him right on the hook.

Sam swallowed. His voice was thick with arousal. “I, um, didn't know that was your thing.”

You shrugged, “I don’t enjoy it as much as Dean does, but yeah. The guys I pick up, I mean—they’re okay. Most can't find their way around a bra, never mind… well, y’know. You get what you can get. But the other parts, the fun parts of sex…” Even you were blushing at how dirty your smile felt. “I'm real lucky, Sam. Most girls don't get off making their partners happy, but I do. It's… made me real good.” You twisted so your chest was pushed toward him, feeling yourself ache in your jeans. You hushed coyly: “I’m told I’m a real natural with my mouth.”

“Really.” Sam repeated. He sputtered out a half-hearted chuckle. His cheeks had gone all cute and ruddy with a blush, exposing the lighter moles on his face.

“Really,” you promised.

The look on Sam's face went beyond teasing, now. You’d told yourself you were just messing around with him, but Sam was twitching in his seat, suddenly unable to sit right, and all the years of play-flirting had apparently stacked too high. Something hot and magnetic had brought you closer and closer together in the Impala’s front seat. Sam was frozen like he wanted to crawl out into the rain and disappear—always so shy, so easy—but something else rooted him to the spot this time. One more motion and you could close that measly gap blazing between you, get his skin pressed firmly to yours. Your arms and back and belly crawled with a phantom itch, and Sam's hands looked so perfect and big that you knew they could fix that feeling. Your mouth felt wet and lonely. Sam's was right there, panting as he waited for you to do something.

“Have you really never had sex before?” You filled Sam's flushed silence. You scrutinized him, brows furrowed with sympathy. “Not even a blowjob?”

Sam's whole body hitched like a slow to start engine at the word. He temporarily forgot himself, choking on his breath and roaming his sweaty palms across his thighs—uncovering, for just an instant, the outline of something firm and big in his jeans.

Still, Sam's eyes couldn't shake yours.

“Um, no,” Sam admitted. “Never had t-the… opportunity, I guess. Or the right person.”

“Would you?” You scrambled to let the words loose, then resettled in your seat, lounging back and stifling your excitement. Sam's dick. Sam's big, virgin dick in your mouth. “If the right person…” you gestured vaguely, like this was still at all a hypothetical, “gave you the opportunity?”

It took Sam a second, eyes flickering fast over your face beneath his bangs, but eventually, he gave a single short nod.

A nuclear reactor’s worth of heat sizzled up from your toes. It bubbled out of you in a pleased, purring sigh, and you could barely suppress your grin, your butterflies, your nervousness, when you crawled into the cold space beside him on the bench. You leaned in slow by his ear. Your nails played across his thudding pulse, his taut neck, spurring Sam’s breaths into gasps. At an agonizing pace, you dragged your soft nails behind his ear, to the tingling nape of Sam's neck, and relished in the feel of his flesh like a vampire as you stroked him there. The blunts of your nails scratched gently at his hairline. Sam squeezed out a soft moaning sigh, so sweet and trusting that you closed your eyes to soak in it all the way.

After a few strokes of your nails to Sam's shivering skin, you fanned your warm breath down his shuddering collar and barely kept yourself from moaning in his ear: “I’m real smart with my mouth, Sammy… I could make your first time good for you. Better n’ good, even.”

He sat there in utter disbelief. Sam breathed hard, and now that your hand was on him, his squirming had stopped. After a deep, weighing pause, Sam removed his hands from his lap and slid them down to his knees instead, tasting the growing appetite in his mouth.

“...What would it feel like?” The rasp in his voice made you instantly wet.

You flushed. “You want me to describe it to you?”

Sam gave a shy shrug of his shoulders, playing innocent, but that clever smile of his had been haunting you all week. He knew precisely what he was doing. “Never had one,” Sam reminded.

The car was suddenly boiling. You had kicked off your blanket a long time ago, and so had Sam, which left you in layers that neither of you wanted anymore.

“Well,” you breathed out, amused. You gave yourself room to undo your coat, and Sam hung on every motion, making each exposed inch of you feel needy and overheated. “I really only know it from the giver's point of view, but, um, it's really fun for guys. I'm sure you've heard other men talk about it before. Unwinds your whole body and blows your mind, done right,” you talked as you shed your coat. “If they made it sound easy to give a good blowjob, Sam—it’s not. You have to know what you're doing, how to read your partner… know what they like… luckily for you,” you hummed, “I've never had a complaint.”

Sam nodded after nearly everything you said, unsure where to settle his hands or what to say. He looked more demure than you’d ever seen him, and it was so cute to you it was almost unbearable. You could imagine him making that exact face at you with his wet dick pushing into the inside of your cheek—all bashful but desperate, hinged on your every word, your every lick. The thought of all the pretty sounds he'd make when you blew him left you on sensory overload, and the only thing that would fix it was Sam kissing you breathless.

It struck you that Sam was really gonna let you do this for him, after years of him caring too much about you to let you take care of him. You were left with a peculiar rush; Sam trusted you.

“Blowjobs are… all the good bits of kissing and jerking off put together,” you explained. You settled back where you’d been before, hanging on Sam's shoulder and talking filthy in his ear as he quivered with want. This time your nails drew circles on his collar, and Sam surprised you by squeezing his hand around your thigh to steady himself. You could've cum on the spot. A flood of heat burned down your gut and throbbed between your legs, soaking your underwear clean through.

You’d never stopped looking at each other, but your faces were closer than ever and the eye contact felt explosive. It was dark but for the streetlight, and quiet but for the endless rain, both aspects of life you saw every day—monsters in the dark and a storm banging on the car. But with Sam there, these everyday mundanes felt… romantic. Passionate, like the movies. His eyes were this beautiful, soft fawn brown. You couldn't wait to see that slip of color admire you from between Sam's thighs.

“The girl, she’ll…” your mouth flooded with drool. “I’ll get down on my knees for you,” you corrected, boldly.

Sam sucked in a shaky breath, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you rasped. “And I'll get nice and comfy there, because I'm gonna waste as much time on you as I can…”

Your hand graduated into his hair again, since Sam forgot how to breathe each time you did it, and with it occupied you lingered on his face. Sam looked piss-drunk with lust; his head was on a swivel, lolling in whatever direction you went, his lashes fluttering low on red-patched cheeks. “I'm gonna take my time getting your pants off, y’know, tickling your legs.” A particularly dirty thought occurred to you, and it must've shown on your face because Sam's parted lips opened further. “Maybe, if you wanted, I could do this little trick I learned with my teeth… open your fly that way. You want that?”

Sam's eyes flicked down to your mouth, thinking. “I do,” he bobbed his head, “I really do.”

“Okay.” You pet Sam's chest, and coupled with the attention of your nails in his hair, a moan seeped out of him, vibrating somewhere deep under your hand. You grinned a shark’s grin. “...Then I'd look at you like that, cause’ that's what I've been dying to do for ages, see you all hard for me and nobody else. You might kill me cause’ you're so beautiful, Sam. And I'd kiss you everywhere I could… all over your thighs, your hips, the muscles in your stomach, your dick… your cock.” A whine jumped out of Sam's throat. Just the word made your throat feel open. “When you're squirming and begging for me to pull you out, I'll take off your boxer briefs, too, the blue ones I know you're wearing—” You’d seen him in them that morning, when he'd crossed his arms and his shirt had rucked up enough to flash some belly. Sam huffed an embarrassed laugh, and you kept going. “I know exactly what I'll do when your boxers are off, cause’ I've been waiting years for it. M’ gonna take your dick in my hand and just admire it, feel how big it is, imagine what it'll be like inside me—” Sam cursed aloud at that, “—inside my warm, wet mouth. I've been imagining what it looks and feels like for so long, Sammy, I think I deserve to see the real deal. Don't you think?”

You ran a finger along Sam's collarbone, and he rolled into it, chasing the slightest touch of your hand regardless if it was on his dick or not. You hadn't even drifted below his belt yet, and Sam was still arching into your touch like it would make him cum. He nodded mindlessly, sweat and rain making his hair cling to his face. “God,” he swore. “You do, ____—you d’serve it so much… so much…”

You cupped Sam's sweaty, tacky jaw, and he sighed like you’d rubbed him through his jeans. You resisted the urge to do just that, asking, “Can I have a kiss, Sammy?”

Sam peeled himself off the seat and rolled into your arms. The hand on your thigh was joined by a second, bracing his huge, sturdy palms on your legs in a way that made you grateful you weren't balancing on them, and with his face nestled in your hands and his eyes all dewy for you, Sam kissed you. You knew that that was it—every time you found your way to a kiss with him, it was the final straw. You loved him. Sam kissed you like he loved you too, pecking you soft and light like you were his dream girl, like he only wanted to treat you gentle, since so often his hands were forced to do the opposite. Quickly, your fingers were in his rain-tangled hair. Sam drew back to groan and then angled his head, pecking you in deep and loving bursts until you were giggling at him. He kissed those giggles too, smiling into his dimples. Sam never failed to make your heart go rabid when he did that, kissing you good; you had seen him kiss other girls before, and he never seemed as skilled or intuitive unless it was with you. Something tirelessly drove him to impress you.

You urged Sam's back flat to the seat again. With your leverage returned, you cupped his neck, then his shoulders, slipping your hands into his shirt, first through his collar and then up his stomach, palms seeking and appreciative. His flesh was warm and his figure was firm or yielding in all the right places. Sometimes, when you sparred and Sam was on top of you, or when you shared beds and his back was pressed to yours, you got glimpses of what Sam felt like. But now that you were free to roam where you pleased, only one signal could make its way through your nervous system: he is so beautiful. You uttered this to him in a frenzy. Sam couldn't get any redder, but you could feel his skin get warmer yourself, could press your hands flat to it and feel the life underneath, which was all the response you needed.

You licked your way into Sam's mouth. He was pliant for you as you did, whole-heartedly enjoying the filthiness of your tongue lapping and sucking at his, even if it was new to him. You laved yours from his bottom lip, across his open, wet mouth and flat against his top lip, prying approving little sounds from him. Butterflies furled and unfurled their wings in your stomach.

When you finally freed yourself, you sucked down breaths open-mouthed and fell back on your haunches.

“That's how it's gonna feel on your cock,” you proclaimed, and swiped a line of spit off his chin.

“Yeah?” Sam panted.

You wormed your fingers under the seam of your tight tee and yanked it over your head, cursing at him in a wrecked whisper. “Yeah. Then I'm gonna put you all the way in my throat, every inch of you, lickin’ and kissin’ all I can get. And when you're ready to cum, m’ gonna play with you, n’ hold you in mouth and make you sit like that.”

Sam mewled, only making your craze to get your pants off even worse. “Why?”

“‘Cause you've tortured me, baby,” you swore. You rocked back onto your tailbone and wormed off your bottoms, sucking back spit at the sight of Sam puppy-dog-eying you and palming his dick—palming his dick because of you, because of your lacy black underwear and how it looked on you. You knew you looked hot. But Sam made you feel it, like you were a Victoria's Secret cover model, like you were the hottest girl he'd ever seen, naked or otherwise. And you were—Sam had never been with anyone else. “Look at me, Sammy. You've tortured me. Made me wait to kiss you and touch you like this for so long, I almost lost my mind. So you're gonna get a taste of your own medicine, just for a bit—and when I think you can't take it anymore, just like me, then I'm gonna let you cum wherever you want. On my face, my tits, on my stomach…” you choked back a wave of unbridled, insatiable want, groaning out, “...in my mouth… inside me...”

The low, guttural noise puttering out of Sam broke. He took you by the underarms and yanked you against him, genuinely hauling you off your ass with a strength you forgot he had, little pants and miserable snarling moans pouring from him. Your mouths slotted together hard and unprettily. It knocked a girlish laugh out of you—when Sam let you breathe between sucking your face off, anyway.

“You like that idea, huh?” You teased.

Sam dropped a hand across your temple. His hand was so big that it could cover the entirety of your face, or perfectly seal over your mouth. In ways no other man had ever done for you, he stroked your hair back all tender just so he could get a look at his girl. You nuzzled into the weight without any mind for where you were going, knowing nothing but Sam’s love and Sam’s chest expanding and shrinking between you.

Those big fawn eyes wondered up at you. “You’d let me do that? Already?”

“I’d let you do anything.” You dropped what remained of your filter. This was truly dumbfounding to him, apparently, because Sam sat there stupidly for a second with his mouth open. He snapped it shut as you neared your faces, making it even easier to press a kiss to the seam of his mouth. “Any other man would take advantage of that chance. M’ not stupid. But you’re the only one I can think of who’d… who’d,” you searched for the words, admiring Sam’s nosebridge with your thumb. He had such pretty moles. “You’d be good to me,” you concluded.

Sam blinked. “...I’d want to be,” he smiled, sounding dulcet. Again, Sam brushed back your hair. “I mean… Anybody who wouldn’t be good to you i-is… is an idiot.”

“Exactly,” you smirked. Slow and sultry, you pressed your nose and lips into the plush of Sam’s cheek and dragged, then a little more, just glimpsing the skin with yours. He was ready and shuddering when your lips were at his ear. “That’s why it’s you I’m thinking about when I’m fingering myself.”

Another weak sound wept out of Sam. Christ, the noises he could make. If your imagination had even come close to the real thing, you would’ve been this dirty-mouthed with him ages ago.

Sam cursed, “Jesus, ____.”

“It’s true.” You pressed this promise with a kiss into his cheek, then again, at his jaw, letting yourself sink into each one with boundless pleasure. Sam melted helplessly against you, ears perked. “Every day. Every time I took a shower, after sharing a bed with you all weekend. I was always soaking wet because of something you’d done hours ago that I just couldn’t shake, hot out of my mind…” you swallowed down another onslaught of drool. “I pictured you having a hard day, y’know, needing something to perk you up. I’d haul your jeans down and lick you all over like an ice cream cone.”

Sam’s whole upper body was blushing so hard now that steam floated off him. “God, me too.”

Your brows raised. “Yeah?”

He nodded himself dizzy. “That same thing. You having a hard day. I’d… I’d…”

You leaned in, blinking in shock. “How did you imagine it?”

“We’d be kissing.” One of his long, too-long-to-be-wasted fingers followed a thread of your panties. “On your bed, the Impala, wherever we could find. I’d lay back and… and you’d crawl on top of me…get your legs around my head—”

Sam’s hot, moist breath tickled your face. So close, with your lips wet from Sam’s kissing already, it was all too easy to follow along with his fantasy. Sitting in his lap in the backseat. Laying him down there, your palms flat and steadying on his chest. Curling your thighs around his face until his nose pressed up into you, then his mouth, slipping open, and his hot, silky tongue taking long drinks of you. The sensory ghost of it alone could’ve made you cum.

You blurted: “You’d eat me out?”

One man-paw of his smoothed down the planes of your back, palming big handfuls of your skin. Now, it was his turn to smile wolfishly. Sam confessed: “I’ve always wanted to.”

The admission temporarily launched you into orbit, and for a long time you hung there, clinging to him by the shirt, dully aware of the rainy smell of him and how hard your cunt was pulsing. Sam. Your Sam, sitting with these thoughts in his head. At the same time that you were pushing your knees together when he sat beside you at the dinner table, Sam was fantasizing about getting between them. The eroticism of it already had you close to edge. Anytime you’d ever been with him, at some point, Sam had to have thought about how his fingers would feel digging into your ass-flesh while he fucked you with his tongue, while you squealed his name, the flat of your toes curled against his shoulders. Uncensored. He could’ve revealed any fantasy on top of that, but he chose this one. The one that had him pleasuring you and fucking loving it. Sam didn’t just want you—he wanted the angle that could get him the most of you, the most exposed and honest position. You fucking loved him.

You were tonguing into his mouth before Sam could finish, both hands in possessive fists around his shirt. Sam started laughing, the asshole, but you persisted, closing him in with passionate dips of your head and kissing him senseless. Your hands feasted on him, clawing into his hair and down the back of his shirt and around again. Nothing was enough. You were convinced you wouldn’t be satisfied until you were Sam, or melded into him somehow, like chocolate chips in a warm pot.

“Thought about… tasting you n’ makin’ you feel good,” Sam hissed. “So good that you’d have’ta put your fist in your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. You’d put your hands in my hair a-and… and… shit, you’d taste so good. I want to taste you so bad, ____. Want you to—” he leached you into a long, surging kiss, purring deep in his throat, “sit on my face.”

You wrestled down a choked whine, which Sam swallowed. Every movement of his mouth went straight to your pussy, echoing there. Sam must’ve known this, because he kissed you exactly as he would between your thighs, all tongue and sucking lips, unbearably hot in comparison to your untouched cunt. You could almost feel the blazing front of his mouth bearing down on you there, his breath fanning over you and his tongue—god, his fucking tongue—flexing into your clit. You broke away.

Sam’s hands hesitated at the top of your back, then all at once took two whole handfuls of your ass, and pushed up with his hips to open your thighs for him. You let slip a helpless moan. His hands were warm and calloused and everywhere, except for the precise place you needed him most. But above all else, Sam was a selfless, loving man, so immediately he was moving to drag down your panties.

“Please,” he choked. “Please, ____, please, I can—I can do it for you—lemme do it for you, baby. Let me take care a’ you.”

“Sam.”

You pressed both palms flat to Sam’s chest in an order. Sam immediately stopped, though he did not look pleased about it. You took a breath to realize the pussy-eating fiend you were soon to have all to yourself, then stepped back to your initial focus. “You’ll have to wait. Want you first, pretty boy. Have you ever even done that before?”

Sam shook his head, sending his bangs fluttering around his face. He pouted. His hands coasted along your arms, dragging you down and into him still.

Bleeding with earnestness, he husked, “No. But I’ll learn for you. I’ll practice on you over and over again, til’ I’m better than anybody you’ve ever had that way. S’ all I want.”

You bit your lip and, god, was it impossible to say no to him.

“I'm all yours, Sammy. Whatever you need, you know I'll give it to you. But we’re gonna do this first, okay?”

You wanted his first time to be good, better than good, all because of you. You wanted to be his second time. His third time too, and every time after that. And if that didn't work out, then you hoped that every time he got a blowjob in the future, it was a good one. Even if it’d be downright pitiful in comparison to the way you were gonna suck his brains out now.

You reached between you and gave Sam's strained cock a generous squeeze.

Sam lost it. “Please, you, please please—” he all but sobbed. His hips rolled up and his knees snapped apart, making room for you, inviting you in, hands making marks on your arm in his scramble for touch. “Please. I-I need it, I need—I need you, god, I want to feel—”

You hung back, absorbing the result of your work. You’d barely touched him and Sam was already out of his mind. He'd had orgasms before—you’d heard him reaching them through the wall in the shower, and his desperate choking breaths were so hot that you had touched yourself right outside the door—but as good as they'd sounded, you were determined to blow them out of the race.

Sam started for his fly, which was your cue to step in. You waved his hands away, guiding them to his stomach, where they fisted in his shirt and drew it up over his sculpted naval. You shushed and soothed, “Sam, Sammy—s’okay, you're okay. I'll take care of you, alright? I'll start right now,” you peppered kisses on his face, bent beside him on your knees. “We gotta get the seat back. Help me?”

You pushed the Impala’s bench back as far as it could go, and you made sure to lay the backrest down a few more inches, too, so Sam could relax and you had a good angle on his face. He was equally considerate and folded up a blanket for you to sit on in the footwell. As soon as Sam sat up, you evaporated into his lap. You expected him to go shy on you again, but this time Sam helped you settle there, clenching his teeth and dragging his eyes up your figure. You stood still for the examination, and the longer it went on the warmer your flaming skin got. Both of Sam’s unreasonably big hands landed on your waist at the same time, and for a moment your roles reversed, Sam’s eyes smoky and heavy-lidded as he devoured the sight of you. You felt yourself throb pathetically in your panties. You were probably the first girl Sam had ever seen intimately; and, in true Sam fashion, he consumed the new sight, cataloging and learning things. A tiny whine slipped out of you when his fingers dug into your thighs, then again when Sam’s thumb brushed under the band of your bra.

“I'm all yours,” you reminded with a smile you hoped was confident. If it was, it was ruined by you shyly and awkwardly reaching for the clasp of your bra. “Whatever you want, Sam, I can do.”

He gazed up at you through his bangs, expression bleeding with love and boyish frankness. “What do you want?”

“To make you happy,” you answered, without question. “To make this night good for you, even if it's the only night we'll have.”

Sam shook his head, absent-minded. A slow, clever, panty-dropping smile developed on his face, something that was clearly common in the men of his family.

“You said that most guys you're with, like this…” he thought aloud. Sam brought you close to him, and when your shadow fell across him and you were nose to nose, he slid two warm fingers up your back and click—he was pulling your brassiere off your shoulders. “You said that most of them can't find a way around a bra, nevermind you,” he observed. “We're going to need more nights if I'm going to prove to you that I'm different.”

“Sam,” you whispered, “you were always different from them.”

You pushed him back against the seat, aligning his spine with it, and as soon as Sam hung his arms over his head you were kissing him wet and deep, both of your hands sliding and groping along the firm muscle of his raised biceps. Now only a flimsy tee stood between them, and you were as rude with it as you were with anything else keeping you from Sam. The long, muscular frame you’d been fantasizing about for years was exposed to you now, and you wasted no time getting acquainted with it. Only recently had Sam started to linger in wet t-shirts in front of you or guide your hands under his shirt as you cuddled—for longer, you’d had no clue what he looked like under his clothes. Dean got all the credit for being John's perfect hunter, but Sam had the perfect hunter's body, barrel-chested huge and wood-shattering strong.

You sunk onto your hands and knees, palming him, groping him, caressing him, outlining the lines of his muscles and his ribs with your fingers. Nobody could resist the temptation to kiss him all over, and in all fairness, you had promised. You dragged your mouth down Sam's chest, kissing the center seam of his body to his happy trail. You almost lost yourself pleasuring him this way; at the sound of Sam's deep breathing, you endured, hovering over your prize instead. You knew you must've looked beyond turned on: your dark eyes were wild, dilated and glittering with want, your panties were soaked through and your lip was almost bleeding you were biting it so hard.

“Fuck,” you cursed, settled back on Sam's thighs, “I've wanted to blow you stupid for years, Sam… it didn't matter what you looked like underneath here or not… but fuck, I feel like a schoolgirl, drooling over all these muscles. You used to be so lanky.”

“Hard to be healthy on the road,” Sam flushed. “We're fighting monsters every day, it’d be stupid to die to a heart condition…or… something.”

“Yeah,” you groaned before you could contain yourself, “but you're sure not making this crush I have on you any easier.”

Sam whispered, sounding coy as he plucked the waistband of your panties. There was that dimply smile again. “You got a crush on me, pretty girl?”

The next words poured out of you as sensually and devoutly as you felt them: “Yeah,” slow, you dismounted his thighs, folded your legs in between Sam's, and finally, finally, sunk on your shins into the footwell. “You wanna see what I do for the men I crush on, baby?”

“So bad. So damn bad,” Sam begged, and it was surreal to finally see what he looked like from this angle, since you’d been dreaming of it for so long. His head lolled back and all you could see of him was the sexy column of his throat and all the soft red lines you’d put in his skin there, just bright enough to see. His chin lowered so Sam could look at you, and sweet lord—there were those fawn brown eyes, drowning in the darkness and the black of his lashes. They boiled over with devotion and willingness and thirst, teased for far too long now. You almost felt bad enough to cut him some slack. But now you were here, with Sam's cock just inches from where it should be, and you couldn't just start going easy on him.

You did exactly what you said you would, so Sam knew what was coming. As promised, you hunkered down on the blanket Sam had folded, letting your knees settle comfortably on the floor. Then you started in on him. You played your nails across his legs, stroking the sides of his thighs, feeling how his pants clung to his skin. On his lap, it was impossible not to fantasize about Sam sitting you on one of his legs and inviting you to rut across his solid, powerful jean-clad thigh. It took a lot to make you feel tiny—but Sam did just that. Crouched down at his feet like this, Sam only seemed bigger and his body better built than usual. You pressed your cheek against his inner thigh and just basked in him.

Sam writhed having you so close to the source of his suffering. “Please,” he sighed below his breath.

“Please what?” You grinned, wolfish.

You turned inwards and kissed the inner seam of Sam's jeans, right on the denim path to his aching cock. Just inches from your face, angled down Sam's pantleg, was a heavy, massive tent more than the width of both your hands put together. Fuck, it'd been even longer since your last good blowjob than you’d thought it'd been. Just seeing the outline made your cunt pulse. Pressing your kiss-swollen lips to the denim above the head bolted molten hot desire straight to your core, and for Sam it was no less extreme, his hands curling into fists on his chest.

His eyes squeezed shut, and the little hoarse squeak that left him made you forget your gag reflex entirely. Sam moaned, “Please please please put me in your mouth—____, p-please.”

“I think you're a little ahead of me, Sammy…”

Your voice dripped with liquid sex. You steadied your hands on Sam's knees and bent forward again, nuzzling his cock with your nose and cheeks, glittering obsidian eyes devouring Sam's softest reactions. He was sensitive—even more sensitive than you’d been hoping for. Just the tiniest lick through scratchy fabric had his toes curling. Again, your nails scraped down his thighs. This time you leaned forward as the gesture drew back, bringing you up to Sam's happy trail. And man, happy it was–it was the centerpiece for miles of twitching, gleaming, sweaty muscle, soft-blended abs, hard-cut v-lines and all.

“Let's start by getting these tight, constricting pants off your first.” you smirked. “How does that sound? You must be uncomfortable, Sammy.”

He was, to the point that just the thought of getting them off had his hips arching toward you on the seat. Pitifully, Sam pleaded, “____. C'mon. Anything.”

“S’okay…” you whispered. You kissed the button of his jeans. “I'll get it off and you'll feel so good, darlin…”

Sam watched you from over his heaving chest, so hard that he was delirious, quavering miserably when your touch disappeared. His soft desperate gasps reminded you of the noises he made when he had dirty dreams sleeping next to you. The few times it'd happened, you just endured it until you drifted off to fatally horny sleep. But once it'd been your name he was sighing like that. It took every ounce of strength you had not to roll over and jerk him off right there. The scene was so vivid it was painful, and you could easily imagine yourself cuddling up to his back and stroking him sweet and slow half-out of his pajama pants, your cheek to his shoulder. Or even better, crawling under your shared sheets and deepthroating him awake. You wondered if Sam had ever heard the dreams you had of him. Or how many times you’d fucked yourself in the shower, imagining him reaming you into the tile like an animal. You had never dreamt of another man that way, or loved a different one so terribly that it made you reckless.

Sam watched you with wide, long-lashed eyes. Nobody else could look so innocent watching somebody get ready to suck their dick. Every time you glanced past his chest, you expected the perverted revelry you got from your other partners to reveal itself on his face. But, god. Sam. He basked in you, in your touch, arching up to meet your hands and worshipping your with his gaze. Love downpoured from every molecule of him. All his reserve had shredded away, taking any reason he had to hide right along with it. I love you I love you I love you, his body wept.

The second you got the fabric corner of his jean-opening in your teeth, Sam’s lips parted, and you remembered all the times you’d tie cherry stems in your mouth to impress him—how many popsicles you’d enjoyed all too slowly and vocally while Sam was watching. It took just one pull of your chin and his fly was off the button. One more and his zipper was in your teeth. You dragged down your head, sultry eyes never leaving his even when you got his fly open, and soaked up the look on Sam's face as he realized the kind of professional he was dealing with.

“...Wow,” Sam gaped. I've hit the jackpot, his wide eyes said.

“Up,” you instructed, and let your grin say the rest. Excitement was burning between your legs now. You tugged on his belt loops until Sam raised his hips, giving you the room to pile them around his ankles.

When you brought your eyes back up, your breath caught. Sam was hard enough to crack steel. You couldn't believe your own luck here. The boy you’d been head over heels for since before you could speak, the man you’d devoted half your life to, and he was so hot for you that he could hardly breathe.

“You don't know how long I've been fantasizing about this.” Your voice was almost too hoarse to hear over the rain, a prayer's voice. You drew yourself between Sam's thighs, and shaking from head to toe with hunger, you spread both palms over his hips and dragged your mouth up Sam's length in his boxers.

Sam had already given himself up to the pleasure. His nails seared into the upholstery, and he moaned, rocketing up, off his back, rocking into you already. The neediness of it burst another tank of heat and love and lust inside you—your Sam, above you, about to be yours, begging so pretty for you… Fuck, heaven would be boring in comparison.

“____, please, baby, please I need it,” he almost sobbed, “I'll do anything anything ____ I ju-just, I just want you. I want your mouth on me I wanna—god, please ____, how good you feel, I want it, please—”

“Anything you want, Sammy, you can have anything,” you soothed, muffled and slurred by your dragging kisses.

“M’ all yours, all yours, all this cock just for you, g-god yeah—your mouth ____ please I need your mouth—”

There was so much drool built up under your tongue that you had to swallow to speak—but you decided against it, saving it for your prize instead. You couldn't wait a second more. You were hooking your fingers in Sam's briefs before you could second-guess, before you could even think to judge if you should unravel Sam a little more—but he was there, bucking for you already, so there was no use waiting. He couldn't even lift his hips before you’d yanked his boxers out of the way. You felt him in your hand and all of it—the length of his cock, the weight of it, the fact that it was Sam, had you sinking into his lap like a priest into a sermon, flesh into the earth, and instantly you threw yourself into the task like you’d never done for any other man. This was for Sam.

You took in just a bit of him at first, enough to introduce him to the hot, velvety heat of your mouth and wet him with a single good suck. Sam's sob cut off with his breath. He was careful to treat you right, even like this. One of his hands had startled into your hair, the pleasure was so much for him. It never did anything more than jolt—he wasn't the type to just shove you on him, anyway. Your smile felt obscene with your lips slick and swollen around him; your tongue gave the lightest lap at the special spot under his tip, and Sam strangled down a filthy, whining mewl. His head was plump and comfortable on your jaw, so you gave it your first dose of attention, loosening your seal around it so you could share your drool with the rest of him. You hollowed your cheeks and brought him a little further into your mouth, shattering what remained of Sam's strength. He sunk back against the seat, exhausted, and watched you bracingly from above, sucking down breaths. Already, there was enough spit on him to make Sam's cock gleam like your lips. It clung to your chin and the tip of your nose in shining patches. Sam ran a hand through his hair and lazily studied you as you sucked him off, falling further in love with you by the second.

“That's it,” Sam cooed. He sounded broken and thready, but he insisted on curling your hair around his fingers, dizzy. “So good, ____—suck it, just like that, please, baby, j-just… ohh, fuckkk…”

Suck it, he'd said. You did as told. The command vibrated through your whole overshot body, and your throbbing, weeping cunt only felt emptier hearing the order. Sam filled up your mouth so well that your cheeks were puffy. He was the perfect size for you—a damn perfect masterpiece. His girth sat thick in your hands, veiny in ways that you wanted to feel with your pussy. Oral had always been enough before, but already you wanted Sam more than air, and more than that, wanted to blow him so good that he'd reward you for it. You tested out a few lower bobs, his cock slick and sticky between your fingers now, and every time you suckled on him Sam squeezed his eyes shut all pretty. The rain was dying out, so the liquid noise your lips made on him filled every crevice of the Impala louder than before. The pop of you slipping off his cock almost echoed.

“Tell me what you want,” you coached, your voice just as broken and hushed as Sam's. You couldn't even part from him that long, and dipped again to whorl your tongue around Sam's heavy tip. “Whatever you need, Sam,” you punctuated the reminder with a long, flat drag of your tongue from his base to the special spot under his tip, and beamed; Sam yelped. “I love it… I love,” you swallowed, “I love doing this for you.”

Sam worked his fingers into your untamed hair, and you did fucking love it. On the floor your knees were aching, but it and everything else was numb to the rolling glide of cock slotting into your mouth, of Sam reveling in your lips and tongue on him, watching you give it all just because he asked.

Sam’s knuckles caressed your cheekbone. “Wrap your lips around the head. Tight.”

You listened. He was more than comfortable on your jaw now, so your lips molded nicely to him, sealing and hollowing so he was even more snug in his new favorite place.

“Good girl,” Sam groaned, probably on instinct, but you stroked him faster for the praise, so he repeated it until his mind was muddy. “Lick the part unde—oh very, very good girl… I wish you could see yourself… I-I want…” he hissed in delight, “you look so pretty, ____… so pretty with my cock in your mouth, god…”

Holy shit. You had never really paid attention to that kind of talk before during sex, busied with the task at hand, but there was something euphoric about the way he said it to you now, your shy Sam, your Sam, his voice raspy, his pink mouth panting and open, his hands all over you, talking to you like he’d always wanted to say that. Your cunt ached.

With a deadly rumble spilling up from your chest, you slipped off his head and laved your gluttonous mouth down Sam’s soaking shaft, kissing, tonguing and sucking at whatever flesh you could find.

“Keep talking like that,” you begged into his base, breathless.

Sam listened. He cupped the sweat-slick nape of your neck, his hand easily broad enough to cover your back blade to blade, and in a messy, groping haze, dragged it up against your cheek. “Never seen you like this,” he purred, “eyes… all dark and… hot… lookin’ up at me… you’re so tiny between my legs like that.”

You couldn’t have restrained yourself if you tried. A weak whine seeped out of you. Sam’s thumb pushed into your cheek and you turned, lapping at it, then covering his hand with one of your own and searing kisses all over his palm. It was heavy and perfect for smudging your nose into. You sunk two open-mouthed kisses into Sam’s wrist where his bracelet was, then up his forearm, knowing only his body and how it could connect to your mouth. His pulse thudded furiously. Just as fast as you’d nuzzled up to him, you returned to Sam’s thick thumb, sucking it deep and right as he watched in rapture. The filthy delight written all over those mesmerized eyes had you praying to him.

“Wanna do this all the time,” Sam swallowed. He was all stream-of-consciousness now, too frenzied to filter himself. “Watch you suck me off… watch those perfect lips disappear around me, _____… y-you… oh, god, you are a natural, baby…”

His other hand, again, flushed your hair away from her forehead. All the love put into your face at once rooted you to the spot. It was miraculous, how special Sam could make you feel with just a few light touches. Bleeding with tenderness, he caressed your shoulders, your cheeks, your jaw, your hair, feasting on you as you had him.

Sam pushed the meat of his thumb into your swollen lip. “Open for me. Yeah… oh, yeah, let me watch you put it in…”

Your lips parted, mostly out of shock—when had Sam started thinking like this? A deeper part of your mind registered it all as innocent teasing, since Sam could never hurt or demean you; he was the basest definition of good to you. Regardless, you were more than willing to obey, and opened wide, tongue splayed for the heavy head of Sam’s dick. The extra kick of his pre-come had your toes curling every single time. But combined with Sam’s ruddy-cheeked, enraptured staring, just one touch to your clit would bring you over the edge. You forced your knees apart on the floor and held off. Just in case Sam intended to keep his promise.

The easiest way to put Sam’s dick into words was by comparing it to a warm, solid lollipop that took up your whole mouth, like the twisty kind from the carnival that eclipsed your whole face, chin to forehead. You’d been mourning Sam’s scrawniness after his four years away at college, but now you were nothing but grateful for the extra mass. Sam was really, really big. Bigger than anyone else you’d been with. He could’ve been any size and you would’ve been just as rabid for him, but there was something specifically hot about sucking him down as far as you could and failing to hit the bottom. It took effort to get there. You lazily pumped what you had left of his shaft, and in slow, deliberate surges of your spit-wet mouth, you earned an inch, then another.

Sam moaned so gutturally you felt it rumble under your palms. It was so Sam, in that it was like any sound you’d ever heard him make, sighing at a stupid joke, snarling during a fight, but this time it was him losing it because you were giving him a blowjob. Because you’d snuck away like idiot teenagers and you were blowing him good and filthy in Baby’s front seat.

“I-I thought about you all day,” he licked his lips, “all week, like this… it’s, you are so much better than I thought… m’ gonna make you cum so good for me.”

You wished that he could feel the way your cunt had fluttered at that. All you could do in answer was hum in approval, since you were so drunk off him, off the girth pressing against the start of your throat, that you couldn't even lift your head to speak. You did the opposite, pushing down and surging Sam's length in deeper and further than you’d gone before. The half-hour you’d poured into warming up for this was instantly worth it. You were by no means an amateur. Blowjobs, as a sexual activity, were with ease your favorite—but deepthroating was where your real talent lay. Wielding your skill, you relaxed your sore jaw and pressed forward.

The initial burn waited for you there, but Sam’s reaction was priceless.

Every muscle in his body snapped in, a taut coil broken in one motion. A strangled gasp broke from his throat. Sam's entire torso bore forward and his hips surged up to your face in a voiceless gasp, which you’d been expecting. You pinned them back down and dug for it, giving him no room to breathe, mashing your nose into his abs and hanging there, lingering, suckling, gagging, so all Sam could feel was the soft, hot, velvet pulse of your throat around his spent cock.

“I’m. I-I—”

You sucked harder, bringing a wave of spit with you, and closed a hand around Sam’s closest fist. Drool seeped over your knuckles. He spasmed. His voice tore, cutting off.

It was a little hard, but with practice—and you could practice on Sam for days, if that’s what it took—the ache would fade. All the pleasure was in the act itself, in your own slobbering sounds, the drool, and above all else the punch-to-the-teeth thrill it gave. Every inch of Sam’s pretty virgin dick was stuffing your throat. You could barely hollow your cheeks around him, Sam was so thick. His cock pulsed, once, then twice, then over and over. No other person in the world could claim him like you could, and no other person would ever have him like you had.

Sam came, and hard.

His thighs snapped closed around your ribs. He hung in place bent up over you, twitching mid-sob. Both of his hands snapped around your head, then his arms in full, scrabbling across your back, crazed, heaving, coating you entirely in the woody smell of him.

You flattened your palms to his thighs and drew upward. When it was just half his shaft in your mouth, so coated in saliva that you were connected to it in cloying strings, you persisted. The first spurt of him on your tongue detonated a ruthless orgasm deep within you on the spot. You latched onto him as it crested through you, digging your nails into Sam’s rolling hips, back and toes curled, pressing closer and swallowing the mouth-watering load you’d been dying to taste for years now. It came with its own gratified explosion of ecstasy. Your pussy sobbed, clenching without end, wracking your whole body with delicious waves of mind-whiting pleasure. The taste of him conquered you—fuck, he tasted perfect, salty and organic and human and Sam. It was a sugar rush of earthy sweetness that burned straight to your overwrought core.

You could’ve unburied yourself and let Sam finish anywhere, since he was already so mindless underneath your spell that anything would’ve pleased him. But there was something potent and intimate in being able to taste him. His body—every divine inch of it was yours, and a piece of him was filling an empty place in you.

You should’ve guessed by the size of him alone, but christ, Sam came whole glassfuls. His cum bubbled up into your mouth and spilled out of the corners of your lips, and you relished in it, drinking him down, whorling your tongue around his fleshy head, soaking up every second of your hard work’s result. The taste of him overwhelmed and surrounded you. The act did. It was in every facet a religious experience, angels singing, clouds parting, the sun glowing over them—all of it. Sam went down your throat piping hot, and you swore you could feel his cum gliding all the way to your stomach.

You slipped off him with a gasp. Hoarse, weak sighs huffed from your blazing lungs.

Slowly, as your orgasm ebbed further from your mind, your surroundings filtered back in. Peeling yourself away from him effectively rebooted all the systems in your body again. You could hear the rain bearing down on the Impala’s windshield overhead. Both of your palms were sticky and cloying with saliva. The whole lower half of your face, your abused lips, your aching jaw, your glistening cheeks, were slathered with slick. Your throat felt raw but recently balmed, like you’d swallowed a spoonful of honey to heal a soreness. Each of your knees had been stuck in place for so long that they were both numb, so the scratchy blanket beneath them seemed to ripple with pins and needles.

And Sam. Sam’s weight was braced in his hands, pressed flat to the dash, putting your face between the long bridge-arch of his shoulders. He’d collapsed around you in the footwell, shuddering and gasping for breath, and through the sea of endorphins and hormones, he managed to press his tacky forehead to yours.

You panted together; you inhaled and so did he, atoms apart, nearly mouth to mouth. Sam’s hot breath fanned across your face, cooling the saliva there.

It was something out of some old Italian sculpture, a Pietà, two nude figures entwined, expressing their love in form alone. You were collapsed on your knees, a worshipper gazing up at your saint. Sam was bent over you almost uncomfortably, every fiber of his body yearning for closeness, but close wasn’t close enough to you, his face smushed into yours and his jaw slack.

He looked nothing short of lovesick.

Hands shaking, you cupped Sam’s face. You pressed your thumbs into his warm, flushed cheekbones, then his dimples when he smiled dizzily at you, his girl.

You swallowed. “Did you like that?” You closed her eyes, hoping aloud, “...Did I… did I do a good job for you, Sammy?”

Sam surprised you. The haziness in his eyes cleared more and more with each inhale, until eventually, he was blinking down at you without guile. He burst out laughing.

“...There’s no way it was that bad,” you deadpanned. It didn’t hold for long, with him giggling over you like that. You fought against a mean, vibrant smile and its matching flush. “Alright, Sam, shut up! Quit laughing, you ass! What the hell did I—”

With the seat pushed back as far as it was, Sam had the room to get his hands under your arms again and drag you up onto his lap in one sturdy motion. Your shoulders quaked with laughter the whole time. Suddenly, his face and chest and throat were flush with yours. It was enough to drive a person crazy. Like before, Sam slotted your mouths together. The difference this time was that his cum was all over your face—but Sam could care less. You went from kissing him to gaping, since Sam dotted each filthy lick of your tongues with a heavy lap across your cheek or your chin. Tasting himself. On you. Fucking hell.

“Stop gawking n’ kiss me,” Sam insisted. He pawed at your back for emphasis, then your shoulders from below, adjusting your weight on his thighs since in your shock you’d dropped on him completely.

(And that was definitely a hard-on scooping against your inner thigh. Fucking fuck. Jesus Christ. Holy shit, Sam.)

“You were better n’ good,” he shivered. Filthily and innocently all at once, he grinned, “...I can’t believe… that was how my first time went. I can’t believe you… You, you just…”

He struggled for words. Eventually, Sam purred: “You are a natural.”

I love you, you almost blurted. You deliberately filled your lungs to calm yourself down. Your arms were around Sam’s neck and he was gazing up at you, brimming with satisfaction and gratitude and boundless, unhidden love. Dangerous territory. His taste had sunk thick and sweet on your tongue, so you both moan when you share it with him in a surging kiss.

“Anytime,” you rasped, maybe sounding a bit desperate. You were. Sam was everything you wanted in a thousand different ways, so you refused to let the moment go. In the black darkness, you laid kisses into him until your lips tingled. “I fucking—ugh. That was perfect. You were perfect. If… if you ever want me like that again—”

“I do,” was Sam’s immediate, unflinching answer. “But… I have a condition.”

He swallowed. At first, you figured he was nervous, and knowing it was his first time you doubted he wasn’t. But then Sam’s eyes flashed. Both of his enormous hands smoothed down your waist, kneading the flesh, squeezing you around the sides so his thumbs were in your belly, then his fingers were sliding flat to your hip and down. They plucked under the waistband of your underwear—the last and only layer between you.

“Every time you go down on me,” his hungry, sultry gaze devoured yours, “I get to practice on you, too.”

part two.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #uncouthspn #supernatural #spn #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine

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specialagentlokitty · 10 months

Text

10th doctor x reader - the stars in your eyes

Part two:

You blinked, and moved your gaze away from the doctor.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I’m (Y/N), Donna’s younger sister.”

The doctor regarded you for a moment, and he slowly began to move around and you let him, keeping your eyes fixed on him.

You were watching the trail of gold he left behind.

It was definitely him you had been trying to following through the universe, he was everywhere.

You moved your eyes from him to where he was stood, and you looked at the box which was a deep stormy purple, swirling in circles.

And on the edges of it were black particles just seeping off it like rain water.

Donna stepped away from the hug, and she went to sit down, and you looked at her.

“Why the sunglasses, it’s Christmas.”

“She has a medical condition leave her alone.” Donna snapped.

“Medical condition?”

You looked to the doctor.

“My eyes are really sensitive to the light, it hurts them, so sunglasses.”

The doctor hummed a little bit and carried on walking around you.

He noticed the way when you spoke your breath came out as mist, and he held his screwdriver up, scanning it over you before looking at you.

Even the screwdriver said you were human, and the TARDIS didn’t seem to mind having you aboard, but he didn’t understand how you got aboard.

Because you weren’t there at first.

“How did you get here (Y/N)?”

“I was always up here.”

“How?”

You just smiled softly at him and walked over, sitting next to Donna, taking her hand in yours.

“Oh dad!” You gasped.

“He’ll be fine.” Donna said.

You shook your head and jumped up.

“He needs to know you’re okay!”

“Stay, please.” She begged quietly.

You stood and you looked at her, and sighed softly nodding your head and you sat back down by her side.

Donna reached out and she took your hand, so you took her hand and held it, and you let out a deep breath.

Donna watched as you breath turned to mist.

“Are you cold?” The doctor asked.

“Shes always cold.” Donna said.

You felt something being dropped over you and you reached up, touching the fabric to identify what it was.

“You’re a beanpole, why’s it so small?”

You took the blazer off and draped it over Donna instead.

“God you’re skinny, thought wouldn’t fit a rat.” Donna said.

You laughed and you looked at her.

“I can get you my jacket if you want it.” The doctor said.

“It’s alright, honestly. Donna’s right I’m always cold, I don’t really feel it.”

“Is that why you’re not wearing a jumper or jacket?” He asked.

“Yeah, I don’t feel cold.”

The doctor looked at you from the other side of Donna.

He began to talk to her and you turned out the conversation, looking over the city, eyes just focusing on everything.

You could see the red trail, and you followed it with your gaze until you couldn’t see it anymore.

“We’re going to go to the reception if you want to come.” Donna said.

You shook your head.

“No, I’m going to go back and look after Wilf.”

“Alright, tell him I’m alright yeah?”

You nodded and Donna helped you up and she hugged you again, and you waved at the doctor.

“Later Goldman.”

With that you headed away, down the stairs and out into the street, navigating your way through everything.

Donna frowned a little bit.

“Goldman?” The doctor asked.

“She’s got a nickname for everyone.”

He shrugged and headed inside and took her inside as well.

You made your way home and set your sunglasses aside.

“Is she safe?!”

“She’s safe don’t worry!” You called.

You walked back into the living room and sat next to wilf.

“Are you going to watch over her?”

You shook your head.

“I can’t, I can only willingly project every so often, and projecting both us drained all of that. I’ll be able to do it again in a few months.”

“It takes that long?”

You sighed and nodded.

“I can subconsciously do it at any point, but willingly doing it takes a lot of energy.”

“But she’ll be okay right?”

You nodded your head.

“I believe she’s in good hands, don’t worry.”

Wilf nodded his head and you looked at him.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Still worse for ware.”

You nodded and grabbed a blanket, getting him to lay down you covered him up and sat on the table in front of him.

You raised your hands, drawing in the stardust, and creating a real time projection of the universe right above him.

You swirled your hand in circles, and you moved it around.

You kept showing him things from the universe until he fell asleep, and you waved your hand through it, making it disappear.

You went upstairs and you laid quietly on your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, sometimes you didn’t like seeing everything the world the way you saw it, but there was nothing you could do to stop it.

You weren’t aware that you fell asleep until you heard a sound outside, and you snapped your eyes open and rushed downstairs.

You recognised Donna and the doctor nearby, and you put your sunglasses on and headed outside.

“Will you put a jacket on?!” Donna scolded.

“No, don’t need one.” You grinned a little.

You hugged her and you looked at the doctor, scanning him up and down.

“Reaching out, you grabbed him and gently hugged him, and he stood in shock before hugging you.

“Thank you for bringing her back…” you whispered.

“You’re welcome.”

He let go and he looked at you, he put the coldness of your skin down to the fact it was cold outside.

You could feel the snow hitting your skin.

“Come with me.”

“I can’t…” Donna said.

You stood back and listened to their conversation, listening to how she talked about him just standing there as cold as ice.

And you were intrigued.

“I think sometimes you need someone to stop you.” Donna said.

You looked between them, and you heard a whisper in the back of your mind telling you to go with him.

“I’ll do it.”

“What?!” The both yelled.

You walked over to Donna and pulled her aside.

“I told you that sometimes I’m guided into doing something, right?”

Donna nodded.

“I need to go with the doctor, I can stop him from going too far, but maybe going with him will give me some answers I’ve been looking for Donna…”

“He’s dangerous…”

“So am I… if I’m travelling with him then maybe it’ll help with my eyesight…”

“And what will you even tell him?! Tell granddad?!” She hissed.

“Wilf will understand… the doctor doesn’t need to know anything, please Donna, just a few trips that’s all…”

She looked at you.

“Alright, okay.”

You smiled and walked over to the doctor.

“I’ll come with you if you’ll let me.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“I’ve heard.”

“It’s a lot of running.”

“I’m fast.”

You grinned a little bit and the doctor looked at you.

“And your sensitive eyesight?”

“Nothing some sunglasses or some form of tinted mask can’t solve.”

He looked at you.

“Oh go on then.” He chuckled.

“Give me a minute.”

You ran inside and packed a few things and you ran to Wilf.

“I’m going away for a while, I’m searching for answers. But I’ll be in contact I promise.”

“So suddenly?” He asked.

“I’m sorry but I have a chance at getting my answers, I need to do this, I promise I’ll be safe.”

Wilf sighed, and he hugged you and you hugged him back before pulling away.

“Keep an eye on the stars, I’ll let you know I’m okay I promise.”

“I trust you.”

You rushed back outside and tossed your bag to the doctor and he caught it, then you turned to Donna.

“Get all the answers you can…” she whispered.

“I will, look after him.”

“I promise.”

You nodded and hugged her tightly.

Since you had come into her life the pair of you had never actually been apart for that long, you were always together.

So it was strange to be leaving her behind, it was strange for her to watch you go with this alien she just met.

But she knew you needed your answers, and maybe travelling with the doctor could give you what you needed or help with your search.

So she just stood there waving you off, and you took a deep breath as the TARDIS began to move.

This is what you needed to do, the step forward in understanding all the things in your mind, all the whispers you heard

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who x you #doctor who x y/n #doctor who imagine #tenth doctor #tenth doctor x you #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor imagine

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freakartack · 5 months

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I remember your older Ask where you explained why it might be a little weird for Waluigi to be in WarioWare, but why do you think Nintendo does absolutely nothing with him? Even Daisy is getting more attention now, and our purple beanpole is gathering ever more dust as he cries himself to sleep. :(

I can think of 2 reasons

The suits at nintendo did not personally create waluigi and so he is kind of a black sheep. He's weaseled his way into spinoffs pretty securely but that in itself is a huge feat - we've all heard by now about how wapeach was smothered in the crib, so I figure waluigi's debut was already pushing it. (For the record, I love waluigi but I'm glad they didn't beat the "wa" concept into the ground - the joke definitely would have gone stale by the time they rolled around to wababy rosalina.)

As far as I remember waluigi is WAY more popular in the states than in japan. I don't know if this still holds true today and it is possible that nintendo is catching onto waluigi's memetic fanbase but i wouldnt be surprised if there was still a disconnect between the acolytes and the purveyors of waluigi.

But i mean, two third-party (ish) rpgs just got remakes which i never thought would happen in a milliard years, so who knows what waluigi's future holds.

This would never happen but here is my pitch/fanfiction for a waluigi game: Double-O Γ, Secret Waagent

Waluigi is minding his own business when suddenly he accidentally gets roped into the MI6 (mushroom intelligence, section 6) and there is a massive conspiracy afoot. However the only other thread tethering this game to the mario series is toadsworth, who is waluigi's boss and assigns him missions (but he doesn't know that is waluigi because he is in disguise). However on his first spy mission waluigi accidentally strikes a deal with the enemy (NOT the koopas, it would be an original set of characters that never appear in another game and that spawn a bazillion gamefaqs threads called "when will they add the waluigi villains to mario tennis" and "i hate the waluigi villains"). Now waluigi is a DOUBLE agent and the objective of the game is to go back and forth between both sides and not get caught as a traitor. Unfortunately no matter what you do at the end of the game the jig is up and waluigi's identity is revealed to both sides, causing them to declare a temporary truce so they can unite and kick him out. This is the final boss. After this they will realize that they hate waluigi way more than they hate each other and peace will be restored solely due to waluigi's incompetence.

i don't know why birdo is there i think she just wanted to dress up. The end

#doodles #waluigi

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triplesilverstar · 3 months

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Noodle arms

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: teasing, mentions of periods

Word count: 2.5K

A/N: Luida gave you a small present and you can't wait to tease a certain well built blond with said present. Sucks to be Vash right now.

I wrote part of this ages ago and I still love it. So I hope you all enjoy it too.

Wandering the ship and glancing at the object Luida had given you just a scant few minutes ago, you feel like you’re moving on auto-pilot, Meryl calls out to you and you don’t even notice. A sappy grin paints your features every time you glance down at the item as you head back to your shared room after finishing in the infirmary with Luida.

“What’s with that stupid look on her face?” slips from Meryl as she lowers her hand, eyes a little downcast.

“That” Roberto straightens “is the look of a fool in love, who just found dirt on their lover.” He’s been annoyed since they ended up on this ship, even unlit cigarettes are removed from his mouth, and he’s got a craving eating at the back of his skull, still looking for a smoking area. Resulting in Meryl just sighing.

“Guess we won’t see much of those two for the rest of today then.”

Still strolling along you’re obvious to the conversation about yourself, too focused on the photo and getting to a door you share with a certain blond. Knocking you wait, hearing Vash call out a “soft come in” before pressing the mechanism to open it, not wanting to burst in if Brad was still there.

Not seeing the older man you launch into your speech with a sickly sweet voice. “Vash, my Sunshine” Your cheeks are starting to hurt from the shit-eating grin you’ve been sporting since you saw the photo. “Love of my life, my better half, the star that lights up my nightsk-”

“What did you do?” Sitting at the little table his eyes are pinched closed, the edges of his lips downturned, tone exasperated. Two fingers rubbing his nose no doubt trying to understand why you knocked before entering your own room.

“Nothing. This time” you sweep towards him and drop in his lap, an arm slung around his shoulders, voice full of glee “Do you recognize this?” His hand has landed on your hip, trying to keep you steady as his eyes open to look at whatever you’re showing him. His blue eyes widen in shock and your grin grows even larger.

“Where’d you get that!” He’s swiping madly, any plan of keeping you steady in his lap gone, trying to grab the item from you as you lean away the fingers of one hand gripping his shoulder, holding your prize just out of his reach. You have to assume Brad is away and back to working on the repairs to his arm away in the workshop. With that, you have an advantage and you have no qualms about using it seeing as Vash is down an arm at the moment.

“So it is you!” cackling you wave the object enticingly, glancing at it once again before back to him, his face one of concentration trying to stretch his fingers just a little more. “Here I thought kid Vash was the peak of adorable, and then today I see this!”

“Mayfly, please” voice pleading and his nose is burning, a flush right up from what you can see of his neck to the tips of his ears. It’s not his usual ‘I’m embarrassed please take pity on me’ pink either, it’s a stark crimson on his pale face and it has your grin growing even larger.

“Why are you embarrassed?! You were such a cute lanky beanpole!” The object in question is a photo, one of him, laughing as a teenager with a younger Brad both of them working on something and it reminds you how close they are regardless as to how Brad complains about Vash. “I mean those scrawny arms, you were all gangly limbs!” You’re leaning as far away as possible, back partially pressed against the table trying to keep the photo away from him.

Your laughter is starting to get the better of you, leaving you breathless, and you miss the way his eyes widen as an idea forms. His hand slides under your back and he’s pushing you up onto the table and pinning your upper body with his hips, allowing his free hand to snag the photo and toss it to the ground on the other side of the table. Well out of the reach of your scrambling fingers trying to catch it as it flutters by.

You try to escape him, only to find yourself lifted up by his one hand and planted squarely in his lap, this time straddling his hips facing him, his arm now wrapped around your middle and locking you in place. “Come on Vash, I was teasing. You really were a cute teenager.” Chest still heaving from all your laughter, hands on his shoulders as you try to catch your breath.

Leaning forward you press your forehead to his, still smiling “Sometimes I miss the cranky bounty hunter who tied me up and gagged me.” The grin on his face tells you he’s teasing right back. “It’s not fair, I never get to tease you about what you looked like growing up.”

“Nope” you pop the P, a grin splitting your face “and you’ll never see it.” Your hands are resting on the sides of his neck now, thumbs caressing lines up and down. “Will you let me keep the photo?” voice soft as you ask your question, eyes closed, listening to his breathing now that you’ve calmed down from your laughter.

“Why do you find it so funny?” A hint of annoyance at you is still coloring his words, causing a few final giggles to pass your lips, his eyes crinkled every so lightly showing his displeasure.

“I don’t find it amusing” Being honest with yourself you pull back a little to watch his face “Honestly, it just makes me happy looking at it. And it makes me think of things I thought I'd long given up on.” Being with Vash has had that effect on you, made you realize you were just surviving waiting for the end to come, tired of being alone and running.

Vash brought back that spark, from trying to catch him and failing so many different ways. Then being friends, and that tiny spark inside you grew into a flame, filling the void that anger had eaten away, you wanted to live, and he showed you that you hadn’t been. “I know, we haven’t really been together that long.” He chuckles at that, making you shake a little in his lap.

“Only what almost a century to find one another, I guess we have been together a short time by comparison” snorting you swat at him. The last few weeks had been draining on the two of you, but that nagging thought in the back of your mind was slowly making you wish for more. More than just wandering, more than just stealing moments with one another when you were hidden out of sight.

“But I want to grow old with you, you big dork. Or at least whatever version we’ll have of getting old” voice growing softer “and biology willing, maybe have a kid or two.” You don’t know if he can hear your heartbeat thundering in your chest, but your own admission scares you.

“I thought you couldn’t have kids?” His own question is soft, hand now rubbing soft circles up and down your side.

“I said it was highly unlikely. I still have a cycle. It’s just, like once a year instead of once a month.” Silent, your hands have stopped moving, and you slide them down along his chest, and finally let them drop into your lap. “After our talk a few weeks ago by the fire, it’s been eating at me. So I asked Luida if it was possible.” Licking your lips as you look into those bright blue eyes, glad his sunglasses are perched atop his head instead of his nose. “I know I should have asked you since it involves both of us, but.”

The stress from the last few days is catching up to you, making you aware of the things you’ve been pushing to the side. Watching him you can see the way he’s hanging on to your words like it’s a lifeline for him, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. “From a genetic level, we’re compatible. If we ever want to think about it in the future, and we should probably be a little more careful in the present.”

Vash is taking both of your hands in his own as you finish speaking, looking down at the differences as he interlocks the fingers of one with his longer digits. “I’ve honestly never thought that far ahead. Just trying to keep moving forward to try and fix what damage my brother and I caused during the fall.” You can see the liquid pooling along his lashes, for the first time in a few weeks not hidden behind his sunglasses or the false smiles for others on his face, you watch his eyes growing glassy. “But the idea of growing old with you does sound pretty nice.” One of his rare real smiles is breaking out on his face, soft and vulnerable, he’s looking at you like you’re offering him the world and not a dream. “Knowing that maybe someday we can have a little one of our own is making my heart beat like we’re running for our lives.”

Laughing you have to agree feeling your own heart starting to beat a ile a minute. “So, we stop your brother from whatever plan he told you about long ago, whatever it is, and hopefully find a way to convince people to stop using the plants so much and let Luida’s plan for terraforming the planet take hold. Then we’ll pick a spot in the middle of nowhere, and stake out a claim. And grow our version of old together.” He’s grinning in response to your words now, disentangling his fingers to playfully swat at you, a few tears slipping past his eyes which you find yourself wiping away.

Leaning forward and pressing his forehead to your shoulder you smile as he answers you “You’re making it sound a little too easy.” You simply let out a hmph of annoyance at him, of course, you made it sound easy. That was the trick with things that are hard, you needed to hook people by making them think it was easy and tell him as much. Leaning back you tilt his head so you can stare at him taking a long look at his features like you need to burn them into your mind before pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “Mayfly?”

There’s a waiver in his voice you weren’t expecting to hear giving him your full attention “Yes, my pretty plant man?” He snorts at that, and his eyes are flicking back and forth like he’s arguing with himself. A curt nod to himself and he’s staring into your eyes.

“Do you remember that dream I told you about? The past lives one?” His voice is so low you just register the words, you nod for him to continue because you do remember, it’d been an interesting conversation when you’d been half asleep drinking coffee but you remember it. “There was a part I didn’t tell you about.”

“Oh, well color me intrigued” his hand is sliding up and down your back, and you’ve adjusted yourself so your fingers and intertwined behind his neck thumbs pressing into the base of his skull. At least when you’re not wiping the tears from his eyes.

“It was after all the other ones. You were standing in a kitchen and making coffee” Well that sounds like you and your love of coffee. “You were you, not a different version of you, with some pretty big bags under your eyes.” You’re frowning at him now, but Vash has a smile on his face that’s making your heart soar inside your chest. “You had a child balanced on your hip, don’t know how old they were and when you saw me you pointed at me and said to them ‘There’s your Papa.’ Oh Mayfly, even now, I can picture them in my head. Chubby little cheeks, mouth agape, and a happy scream when they were reaching out for me. I, I thought it was a vision of a possible future.” Now that, that has you thinking. Vash saw you? With a child, his child, shit why does that do things to your head and your heart the same way the photo did. Dredging up memories from a dream you’d shoved down where he’d had black hair.

“I, I want that future Mayfly.” It’s not a few tears this time but a stream running down his face, and your own heart is beating fast enough to hurt, a dampness on your own lashes. “I want to have a baby with you, someday, I want us to be able to settle down somewhere beside the humans. I’ve never thought I was worthy of having something so wholesome, just kept throwing anything that was for myself away. How could I ever want something that was just for me when all these people live in such hardships because of me? But I want that Mayfly, I want enough that my chest hurts thinking I can’t have it with you.” At his words your head shots forward to close the gap and press your lips to his, tears mingling from both of you along your faces, and he returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm. Dried cracked lips pressing tenderly against one another, neither of you try to deepen the kiss but its still charged from the passion between the two of you.

When you pull away you leave your forehead pressed against his “I want that too Vash. A future with you, I want to stop wandering and have somewhere to belong.” The burning in your chest keeps growing because some part of you has long accepted that next to Vash is where you belong. As long as you can keep walking beside him you know you have your home, because Vash truly is your home even if it took a while for all of you to accept that reality. You aren’t sure how much longer you both sit like that for, enjoying each other's presence and simply existing. After a while, Vash pulls back looking at you with a tired smile.

“Sounds like we have a tomorrow to fight for, that's for us, and not just everyone else now.” You smile, knowing it’s best to move on, otherwise, both of you will start spiraling around the subject, a quagmire of things that you know deep down, neither one of you believes you deserve. Yet, that flicker of hope is growing inside of you a hope that you’ll find that tomorrow together and make the other see they deserve that.

“Now, back to more recent items.” Forcing a cheerful tone as you let a shit-eating grin light up your face “Does this mean I can keep that photo?”

A roll of his eyes before shifting you in his lap once more. “As long as you promise me it stays here, I don’t need anyone else seeing what I looked like. It’s embarrassing.” You just laugh pressing your lips to his once more, if that’s his only rule so you can keep the photo you can abide by that.

Back to Masterlist for the series

#vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #trigun #twink writes #Bullets Bandits Ghosts & Typhoons #tristamp #vash x reader #vash x you

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writertothemaximum · 9 months

Text

To New Sight - Part 1

Pairing - Gojo/Yuuji/Reader

Content Warning - Omegaverse, (fem) Alpha Reader, Alpha Gojo, Omega Yuuji, discussions about sex, Non-sorcerers/Strangers AU, Yuuji is a college student.

Word Count - 5.6k

Summary -

After meeting you and Satoru at a greet for finding heat partners, Yuuji has come to the troubling realization that he doesn't know what he wants.

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49477078/

Frankly, you had stayed up a little too much the night before. This was getting a bit late, and only about half the amount of people who you had assumed would be here actually arrived, but then again, you weren’t really sure how many people were supposed to be here, so. A bit of careful discretion was required.

Simply put, this was a heat partners meet. For people that were too busy, too private, or too much of both to be able to find one normally. The intention was for short-term things, getting two people together who didn’t intend to mate, and just wanted a casual partnership for the week of need.

The age demographic was rather split, but this was the meeting for people aged 18-29, so there was a mix of college students, and people who just started their careers, although most everyone tended to be on the latter side of the age demographic. You assumed that it was just easier for college kids to find mates nowadays or something, well, it wasn’t really your problem, your rut was coming up soon, and it was unbearable last time. You hadn’t had a partner in a while. It was getting a bit difficult on your body.

There was a tall, white-haired, beanpole-thin man standing around you, glaring at the crowd of alphas and omegas in front of you, looking rather interested, but very hesitant to actually join the crowd. He looked like someone that liked to observe a little bit before taking action.

“So,” he said, drawing it out long enough to assure that he got your attention, “what’re you here for?”

You laughed. He smelled suspiciously sweet, but immediately you could tell that he was an alpha. Odd scent, really. “Same as you, I assume.”

He looked over, cocking a brow, before taking your statement not at surface value. After a moment, he groaned, wrapping his two arms behind his head, bouncing back and forth a bit. “It’s just that work is really eating me up and—”

You looked up at him, and normally, you’d have caught him in the eye, but he was wearing dark sunglasses indoors. “Are you picky?”

He paused. “Yeah,” he said, smiling, then crossing his arms. “You could say that.” It was at this moment that you got a distinctly pleasant smell of freshly cut grass and firewood, and walking past in front of you was a younger-looking boy with soft, pink hair. Male omega, your instincts told you immediately. “I prefer me—”

The omega looked at the two of you and smiled.

“—n,” he said, and his voice came to a stop.

“...oh,” you said, putting a hand over your mouth.

“Oh my god, he is hot.”

“You could say that again.”

Immediately the man was sprinting towards the omega, trying to look as smooth as possible.

Reaching your hand out, you grabbed him by the back of his shirt. “Hey!”

He glanced back at you, stopping, waiting for you to let go, and then relaxing, waiting for you to speak. “What?”

“Who said you get first dibs?”

He blinked at you a couple times, taking a couple sniffs, those white lashes fluffy and full, until it finally hit him. Rather, your smell hit him. “You’re a female alpha?” he said, his voice rather soft, in a state of complete and utter shock. “You’re rarer than he is.”

Frowning, you weren’t surprised that he hadn’t noticed, as your smell was relatively light, and people tended to assume you were a beta with a strong odor than to even entertain the possibility that there might be a female alpha in front of them.

“Well,” you said, with a huff, “I guess it’s fair, since there aren’t many of us, but you’re one to be talking, considering you’re an alpha that smells like salted caramel and honey.”

He smiled, and it was almost as sweet as the way he smelled. “I have a name, you know.”

“You haven’t told me yet.”

“It’s Gojo Satoru.”

As it turns out, Itadori Yuuji was very sweet. After introducing yourselves, he made a slight bow back, doing the same. To both of your surprise, there weren’t many other alphas checking him out, instead, they seemed to be more interested in the giant huddle of (mostly female) omegas off on the other side of the room. Good, you would have a decent level of private attention.

Scratching the back of his head, he looked a bit bashful. “I’m kinda surprised you two came right up to me, I’ve never really had anyone interested before.”

Satoru glanced over at you, and you both made eye contact before looking right back at Yuuji.

“I really can’t imagine how that might be,” Satoru said, smiling. “Would this be your first time having a heat partner?”

Yuuji’s face turned red, just slightly, and he looked off to the side, but Yuuji was an honest kid, clearly. “Yeah…I just started going to college in the area, so. Usually my brother watches over my room and brings me food and stuff, but obviously, that’s not an option anymore.”

“Oh,” Satoru said, lifting up a finger. “I live alone in a nice apartment if you need a place to stay.” During your heat and with me was omitted from his statement. “It’s very comfortable!”

“So, Yuuji-kun,” you said, trying to distract attention from whatever endless wealth Satoru clearly had, “what kind of alpha are you looking for?”

Yuuji blinked a couple times, thinking it over, before his eyes quickly scanned your body, up and down. You supposed that in any other circumstance, it would have been slightly offensive, but you did just ask him, and also this implied that he really hadn’t thought about it before you had asked.

“I um,” he said, his facial expression turning into a slight pout, “I do like tall women.”

Satoru reached forwards, and caught his hand. It was such a graceful action, and he clearly knew how to put on a show, because his smile was latent with charisma, smoothness, and delicacy. He even smelled nice. “And men?”

Yuuji’s face turned a very bright red, and his eyes did the same to Satoru as he had done to you not a couple seconds prior. “I also like men…”

The two of you recoiled, about to combust into a million pieces on the spot. Cute, adorable. He was so soft and reassuring, it was like the ideal omega, and you had a feeling Satoru thought the same. There was a puff of Yuuji’s pheromones, and once again you were inundated with the lofting aroma of grass and wood. It was certainly an odd smell for an omega, although you supposed that might have been why the three of you got along so well, all oddballs in your own rights, one way or another.

After a bit more of chatting, Yuuji seemed to relax a bit around the two of you, realizing that you both were just a bit excited, and certainly neither of you were aggressive or had any ill intent. Satoru was a bit older than you, which came as a bit of a surprise, putting you right in the middle, but it certainly explained his greater access to wealth, and you supposed his somewhat overly enthusiastic and eccentric personality was deterring to omegas he’d tried to court in the past. Well, this was assuming that he had tried to court omegas in the past. He really seemed like someone that would have no issues getting them to fall right into his lap, but then again, if that was really the case, he wouldn’t be here, would he?

If there was one thing to be admired about Yuuji, he was an excellent listener, and really loved hearing the little debates that you and Satoru would get into, nodding along enthusiastically, adding bits of insight here and there. He seemed completely enthralled by the two of you, his eyes sparkling, really a bastion of joy, and it was intoxicating. The air surrounding you was absolutely intoxicating.

Before long, you realized that the place had been clearing out, most of the appetizers already gone, and people already had paired up and gone home. Yuuji flicked on his phone, checking the time, and he smelled like worry, his eyes going wide. “Oh shit, I have a morning class tomorrow. Can I get your guys’ numbers, and I’ll call you about setting up a time to meet and talk more about this?”

You and Satoru made eye contact. This would be it. The one he would call would be the one that got the prize. All or nothing, really, and neither of you particularly liked to lose.

“Of course, Yuuji-kun,” Satoru called out, pulling out his phone and making sure to get Yuuji’s, too.

“Ah,” Yuuji said, turning towards you. “It was really nice to meet you, too, y/n-san,” he said, making a slight, little bow. A little bit rustic, but effortlessly kind, really the perfect omega. There was a bit of insecurity inside, as you looked over to Satoru, smiling up a storm.

What did you have to offer that he didn’t? Even among male omegas, male alphas were preferred—Something about “stronger pups”, something about the knot being bigger, you weren’t really sure (you were quite sure), and it wouldn’t surprise you if Yuuji picked Satoru over you. Actually, it was the obvious choice, really. It was a bit painful to think like that, but at least you wouldn't get your hopes up. Maybe you’d at least see him again, he was a really sweet kid.

You got a text back. The next day, even. Yuuji had set up a date, at a local family restaurant. It was hardly the proper location, but it was definitely the right sort of price-range for a college student, and the high walls in between the booths provided a nice amount of privacy for the sort of discussion that the two of you would be having.

Bring some clothing, too! Preferably used but any is okay…

Is what he had typed out to you in addition to setting up the date and time. So, you held with you a canvas bag filled to the brim with used sweaters, shirts, pants, socks, and anything you thought smelled particularly appealing. It could be difficult when it was your own scent, considering that you were used to it all the time, but like selecting a photo of yourself, you had enough self awareness to figure out what sort of thing other people might like. Doing this wasn’t weird or anything, it was pretty common for close friends to bring clothing to their pack mates, or any omega that they felt close with. It didn’t necessarily imply sexuality, although in this case, it certainly did.

When you finally walked into the restaurant, your heart fluttered with excitement, and you looked around for him, but your eyes made contact with someone tall and white-haired instead.

“Gojo,” you said, your face scrunching up in surprise. “It’s an um. It’s a surprise to see you here.”

He was already sitting in a booth by his lonesome, and next to him was a big bag, filled to the brim with something that looked like clothing.

“Uh, fancy seeing you here~” he said, tilting his head forward, his sunglasses sliding down his nose slightly.

Instantly, you slid into the booth, sitting across from him. Squinting, you clutched your bag close to your chest, bending over it, almost accusatory. “So…He called both of us?” you asked, raising a brow.

“Sure seems like it,” Satoru said, pouting his lips out a bit. He seemed slightly disappointed. “Guess he hadn’t decided yet. I knew it was too soon to be true…”

Squinting, you kicked your leg out, and kicked his bag. Yeah, whatever inside was soft and squishy, and his scent was deliciously stronger than usual, that sweet nothingness, so you assumed that must have been his clothes. “But he asked you for clothes, too?”

“Ah, that’s right,” Satoru said, his eyes moving over to the bag next to him. “Guess he’ll smell us individually and then make the decision after that?”

“I guess,” you chewed out, leaning your head against your bag, and you started to notice the smells pouring out. It was a bit revealing, but whatever, you had already embarrassed yourself enough by coming all the way out here.

Satoru glared at you, and after a moment, he started to laugh. “You do have a great scent.”

Surprised, your head jutted up, bringing yourself to attention. “What does it smell like?” It was always interesting to get another person’s perspective of your smell.

He smiled, and even you couldn’t help but find it charming. “Maybe a bit like vanilla? Cinnamon? A bit woody.” After a moment, he snapped, pointing right at you with his epiphany. “Eucalyptus. That’s what it is.”

“Huh. Eucalyptus.”

Satoru nodded, holding out his hand. “Give me something, let me check.”

Chuckling, you couldn’t hold back the smirk. “Alright, but you gotta let me smell one of your things, too.”

Satoru laughed, turning over to dig through his bag. “No problem!” After a moment, he fished out a pair of grey sweatpants, holding it out to you.

Without hesitation, you grabbed it from him, using your free hand to pull out a plain blue T-shirt. Thank god this place had some privacy. It wasn’t weird to do this in public, but it wasn’t exactly—You know. Socially acceptable, either. Well, you had to know. What your competition was. It was a baseline alpha’s instincts. Also insatiable curiosity. That, too.

Looking around quickly, you didn’t spot any waiter, and dove your nose straight in.

On second thought, ramming your nose right into some random dude’s groin area probably wasn’t the best decision, especially considering some “random dude” was the hotly competitive yet somehow genuinely endearing alpha that you were at odds with, but damn did he smell good. You’d never smelled another alpha so sweet before. Hints of honey, like turkish delight, but musky like pistachios, and rich like dark chocolate salted caramel. Simply put, it was refined, it was elegant, and it was sophisticated on all counts.

How this man had difficulty bagging an omega was far beyond you.

Was he just picky? Had a preference for men? It wasn’t that uncommon for male alphas to prefer male omegas, although it certainly wasn’t common. Was it his personality? Sure, he had some hot takes here and there, but he always paid attention to what you were saying, and wasn’t overly competitive. Maybe other people had bad taste. Maybe he really was just that busy at his work, whatever it was that he did.

Meanwhile, Satoru was nose-deep in your shirt, and it made you feel a bit self conscious, until you remembered that you still had his used sweatpants in your hands. Yeah, no one was winning this one. This was a lose-lose in the loser department.

“Eucalyptus! Maybe a little bit of mint?” A frown. “No, pine?” Another sniff. “Spruce. Trees. Slightly medicinal?” He laughed, setting your shirt down gently on the table. “It’s so relaxing, I’d commit several acts of treason for a scent like yours!”

Not one to be immune to praise, you felt your heart flush at the compliment. “You’re one to speak, Mr. Sweet Alpha.”

Satoru raised a brow and crossed his arms. “It’s not too much for you?”

“No, not at all,” you said, laughing. “It’s nice.”

He looked off to the side for a moment, and it was at that point when it hit you as to why he might have had difficulty finding an omega in the past. Such a strong odor, and such despite every cell in your body shouting alpha at you, it was certainly a more atypical flavor for the sex, and you began to understand how some people might find it overwhelming. They said that the smell makes a man, but now, you were starting to wonder if the man made the smell. A “chicken or the egg” problem, really.

You stuck out your hand, blinking a couple times. “Gimme your hand.”

“Oh?” he asked, obeying, and putting it out in front of him, trying to see where you were going with this.

Using your thumb, you rubbed at the scent gland on your wrist, making sure that it was plump and expressing itself properly. Getting a quick whiff of neutrality and familiarity, you noted the minty qualities, and considered that maybe, Satoru was right. It was tempting to go home and buy some Eucalyptus oil and see how right he was.

“Scent me,” you said, your expression growing serious, as you started to focus.

“Huh?” he asked, a bit surprised. It wasn’t odd for friends or family to scent each other, well, if it was on the wrist’s glands, of course. Scenting the underside of a chin would be acceptable under certain circumstances, but never, never the back of the neck. So, this was fine.

“I like your smell, scent me,” you said, raising your wrist again. “Stop being so insecure, I like it.”

Satoru lowered his arm, frowning at that. “I am not insecure.”

You chuckled. “Sure you’re not. Go ahead.”

Overwhelming confidence and charisma to mask inner vulnerabilities of self-confidence, it was something you understood far too well. It was something as a female alpha, you’d been trained in your entire life. Overcompensating. It wasn’t enough to be strong, you had to be invisible, silent. Those were the sorts of things expected from you. Even the most formidable person was nothing at the hands of societal pressure.

Surely enough, Satoru’s wrist was on top of yours, and unlike an omega, he was haphazard about it, rubbing not aggressively, but certainly without any reservations. Vulnerable, but not at risk of attack, that was never something that even crossed Satoru’s mind.

It’s almost like you could read his mind, like this. That’s always how it was during scenting. They say that the human’s emotions are read through the scent glands, although the eyes are certainly a close second. Considering that a certain someone liked to hide those, it didn’t come as a surprise that doing something like this was a bit revealing for the man, too. But it was pleasant, and the feeling of another human’s skin against yours was certainly welcome, along with the sweet flavors that instinctively flashed across your tongue.

“What are you two doing?”

Both of you froze on the spot, caught in the act. Turning your heads to see Yuuji standing right there, in between the table and your booths, your wrists were still caught against each other, and you felt your scent gland twitch instinctively at the dread.

“Oh,” Satoru said, his wrist dropping to the table, unceremoniously. “Strange seeing you here, Yuuji-kun.”

You raised an eyebrow and pulled your hand back to your side. “Is is?”

He relaxed too, sighing. “I suppose not.”

Yuuji just laughed, as if just trying to clear the awkward air, and he scooted into your booth, sitting right next to you. Immediately, in addition to Satoru’s sweet caramel, was now the smell of the great outdoors, like freshly cut grass and small, little flowers. It wasn’t particularly potent, but you noticed it immediately, and it was hard to get out of your mind.

“Were you guys scenting each other?” he asked, maybe a little worried, pushing his phone into his hoodie pocket.

You and Satoru just stared blankly at each other, neither of you knowing if the other person would feel comfortable answering the question, and both of you silently agreeing to let the other person just decide that.

You pointed right at Satoru, just deciding to stuff his sweatpants into your bag. Yuuji’d get them both, anyways. “He smells like candy and nuts.”

Satoru closed his eyes and smiled triumphantly, crossing his arms, thin white lashes peeking out visibly over his glasses. “It’s like none other in this world.”

“You can say that again.”

“Hey!”

Yuuji laughed at the both of you, and then turned to you, outstretching his own wrist. He pulled back the sleeve of his hoodie just a bit, and it was close, but not too close to get into your personal space. “What do I smell like? My best friend says it’s kind of bitter to him, but he’s just sour sometimes.”

Slightly hesitantly, you leaned over, as if asking Yuuji for permission to give him a light sniff. Looking at you, he bowed his head lightly, and bending down closer, the wafting odor of pre-heat graced your nostrils. Ah, this was always such a nice feeling. No wonder he was so worried about getting an alpha, his heat smelled like it was coming on very soon. It was a little sweeter than last time you had met, that was the telltale sign.

“Hm, it’s a little floral?” you said, leaning back up. “But mostly like fresh cut grass, or just that scent you get when you walk through somewhere with a lot of plants.”

Satoru nodded along. “Yes, I can corroborate that.”

Yuuji put a finger to his chin and thought a bit to himself. “I see.” Then, he laughed, a little unsure of himself. “It’s kinda flattering, being pursued after by two alphas like this, I normally don’t get this sort of attention.”

You and Satoru made eye contact, your brains almost in sync. Maybe it was the fact that the two of you just scented, maybe it was just because the two of you were on a similar wavelength, but such a cute demeanor was not going to go unteased. Satoru was the first one to have a go at it, setting his elbow down against the table, resting his chin against the bottom of his palm, smirking like a madman. “I’m quite surprised, my dear Yuuji-kun. You’re quite the stunning boy.”

“H-Hey…” he said, his voice trailing off, his face bright red. “My scars don’t bother you or anything?”

Oh, the ones right under his eyes. You laughed. “They suit you really well. They’re very symmetrical.”

Satoru laughed alongside you. “She’s right.” Then it was that devilishly charismatic grin. “You’re quite muscular, too.”

Yuuji pouted, looking off to the right, into the aisle, and away from both of you. “Like that’s a good thing for an omega…”

“Why wouldn’t it be? It means you’re healthy.”

Yuuji looked right at you after you spoke, seemingly thinking about what you had said. After processing it, he smiled, scratching his cheek. “I guess that’s right.”

After a bit, the waiter came by, bringing back some toxically sweet beverage that Satoru had ordered before you arrived, and the three of you ordered some food on top of that. The conversation led to what Yuuji was studying at university.

“Um, I’m not really sure what I want to do yet,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I want to do something that helps people, and I’ve been working part-time with the EMT, but I’m way too dumb for med school, so.”

Satoru raised a brow. “Don’t say that, you seem like a bright kid.”

Yuuji sighed. “But I failed physics in high school…”

It took about everything inside your body to stop yourself from laughing, and glancing up across from you, you could see that Satoru was doing the same. Looking up from his embarrassed slump, Yuuji noticed that the two of you were having an amused reaction, and this made him even more embarrassed.

“I told you…” he said, now sliding down the booth.

“Well, your grades aren’t a reflection of how smart you are, I think everyone knows that,” you said, still overcoming the sheer sense of endearment from how adorable that expression had been.

“That’s very true,” Satoru said, nodding along.

“And what do you do, Gojo-san?” Yuuji asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

He smiled like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Ah, civil rights attorney.”

Oh, well that explained a lot. Not the wealth, you imagined that particular field of law didn’t exactly pay out, but then again, he could come from a wealthy background (which was true), but considering his attitude, considering how he had difficulty getting along, despite getting along very well, it explained, well—a lot. Food for thought.

“Oh!” Yuuji said, his eyes sparkling. “That’s so cool! So you like, uh, what do you do exactly?”

Satoru laughed. “I help people, too. Basically, if someone threatens you based on your sex, your age, or treats you like a subhuman, I’ll get on their ass.”

Oh, he was having fun with that occupation, wasn’t he?

“You two are way older than me, huh,” Yuuji said, pouting his lips just slightly, chewing the thought over. After a moment, he laughed it off. “I don’t mind that, really. Might just be the omega in me, but there’s something kind of nice about knowing that I’ll be taken care of…”

Yuuji was smiling, and there was a subtle, floral scent, that reeked of comfort and you could just look up and see Satoru dying over there across the booth. And he wasn’t even sitting next to him, the dick. Well, actually, it was better for you, it was almost like you could feel your body leaning into Yuuji’s space, his pheromones dragging you in.

It was at this moment that the food came, and the three of you actually had to present yourselves like reasonable human beings for the first time that meal. There was a little bit of chit-chat, but the three of you ate your food in relative peace. It wasn’t the best food in the world, or anything, but it was in good company, and you found yourself thinking about how you’d miss talking to the two.

“Oh, yeah,” Yuuji said, stuffing a piece of beef from his gyudon into his mouth. “I guess we should talk about what we’re going to do when I actually get my heat.”

You nodded, wiping your face. “Yes, the logistics.”

Looking down at his food, Yuuji waited a moment, deep in thought, like he was coming to a decision on something he had been thinking on for a while. “So, I’ve been bouncing it around in my head and…Would it be possible to have both of you?”

You almost spit your food out of your mouth, and you saw Satoru do the same.

“I mean, you could,” you said, hesitantly. “Weren’t you going to decide by the clothing?”

Yuuji laughed, scratching the side of his cheek. “I was, but I like both of you.”

“Well, two alphas and one omega during a heat isn’t impossible, but didn’t you say this was your first time sharing a heat with a partner? We don’t want to see you broken, Yuuji-kun,” Satoru said, almost like he had heard of something like this having happened before.

Yuuji’s brow furrowed in disappointment, and he sighed into his food. “I thought so…” Then, pushing his lips to the side, he looked a bit like a petulant child. “Wouldn’t mind getting broken, though.”

This boy was going to be the death of you.

“You sure there isn’t like, um,” Yuuji said, “A way we can switch off or something? Go halfsies?”

Satoru sighed. “Well, the idea is to sync the heat and rut cycles, so that means kicking out an alpha mid-rut. From my experience, not a good idea.”

“I see…” he said, a bit dejected.

“Hm,” you hummed, thinking it over. “Is it possible that we could just share it together? I mean, Yuuji’s in pre-heat right now, and neither of us are fighting. I honestly thought we might, but I literally just scented you a couple minutes ago, and I didn’t sense any aggression, so…”

Satoru pursed his lips. “You’re right. I actually quite liked your smell. Odd for an alpha," he said. "It might be possible.”

“Really?!” Yuuji said, his palms against the table, his eyes sparkling. “Thank god, it was killing me having to decide between you two. Who’s place should we stay at? My dorm room’s not really a good idea.”

Unable to hide the smirk, Satoru shrugged and sighed. “I did offer my place earlier. I didn’t know the offer would extend to it smelling like another alpha, but it can’t be helped, I suppose. I have a guest bedroom you can set up your nest in, Yuuji-kun.”

Yuuji nodded, his thumb at his chin. “That sounds like a good idea. y/n-san, do you want to bring some food? I don’t want to put Gojo-san out of his way if there’s going to be more of us…”

“Yeah, I can do that,” you said, thinking it over.

After that, you exchanged contact information between the three of you, and Satoru set up a group chat, sending the two of you his address. Then, the three of you agreed on a time, and luckily, you had already called out of work during that week, so everything had been planned out. A couple more things were discussed, like limits—No marking, but Yuuji said he had a collar, so that wouldn’t be a problem. He also said he was on birth control, so that was another worry that the two of you didn’t have to consider.

“Hm?” Satoru asked, the thought just hitting him. “I was wondering this before, but you don’t take suppressants? I know most college students do.”

Yuuji looked a little disappointed. “I tried to. They wouldn’t work. Just kinda made it worse, and I’d get really bad headaches and stuff from them. I get really strong heats, you see.”

“Ah,” he said, understanding. Then, a smirk. “Is that why you want two alphas? You think one won’t be enough?”

“S-Stop that, Gojo-san!” Yuuji said, blushing bright red, shaking his hands in the air defensively, and the two of you were laughing back.

What came afterwards was a very intense debate over who was going to pay the bill. Yuuji offered first, which was hotly contested by both you and Satoru, which then devolved into a stiff competition over who would experience the least amount of monetary detriment from such an offer. Finally, it was agreed upon (i.e. Yuuji made the decision) that you would pay, since Satoru had made the very kind offer of letting the three of you stay in his apartment for up to a week.

There was a really strange feeling in the air when you came out of the restaurant. A bit of nerves, a bit of excitement, a bit really a mix of both, and more. Comfort, that was one thing. They both seemed like genuinely good people, and especially considering your previous rut partners, you were a bit comforted by the fact that you were a female alpha had barely been brought up. You almost forgot about it for a second. In many ways, you and Satoru were the same, you were equals—At least to Yuuji, and certainly to Satoru himself.

You waited out of the building, and off to the side, in a relatively private spot, and the three of you were chatting away, barely able to say goodbye, excited for when you were going to meet again.

“Alright,” Yuuji said, pulling back the sleeve of his hoodie, and grabbing his forearm with his left hand, keeping it stable. You knew what this meant. Yuuji wanted you two to scent him. It was taught to omegas to only use one arm at a time, and to hold it with their free one, to make sure that they wouldn’t be able to get grabbed by both wrists at once. “I’d appreciate it if you could…”

Satoru pointed to his under chin, the secondary scent gland, the one on the left side of his jaw, just a little more personal. “Can we do here?”

Yuuji’s face turned a little hot, but he nodded. “Sure.”

After a short moment, he walked over to Satoru, and accommodating for the height difference, Satoru bent down just slightly, and raised his chin, while Yuuji extended his. Almost hugging him, the two got close, and almost with a heightened sense of physicality, they gently rubbed their scent glands against each other.

Your heart dropped in your chest as the smell wafted over to you in the wind. It was a warm feeling, a comforting feeling, like a hug. The smell of sweet flowers, the smell of candy on the grass, the smell of summertime and picnics, it was refreshing, it felt like you had just noticed a ray of sun beating warmly against your skin this entire time. You could almost fall asleep in it.

Witnessing Yuuji close his eyes tightly shut, his body trembled, getting used to the feeling for just a second, before he walked over to you, his arms extended, asking for the same.

Without hesitation, you broached his space, and you felt his arms wrap around your torso, hugging you tight. Ah, how nice it was to get comforted by an omega. How nice it felt for your chin gland to get rubbed like this, sweet omega pheromones getting dusted all over it, slowly sinking in, and you felt it twitch against him, reeling at the notion of pre-heat, the inside of your body trembling at the anticipation of getting to mate him.

Not that you would, but certainly, you would get the opportunity to knot him. That sounded wonderful. He’d be all yours. And Satoru’s, too, but by now, you were used to the smell. That was okay. You could share. There was enough Itadori Yuuji to go around.

Just another moment, and he held you tight. “Thank you, y/n-san.” And then he let go. “Thank you, Gojo-san, too.”

A short, and quick bow.

“Thank you both for taking care of me, from now on, I put myself in your hands.”

Part 2 - The Heat

#yuuji x reader #yuuji x you #gojou x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo/yuuji #五悠 #dom reader #goyuu #w2tmfics

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historia-vitae-magistras · 1 year

Note

You got anymore fics or hc of Alfred being a good brother to his 8ft tall beanpole?

'tis garbage I wrote about 20 years ago and is poorly recycled but here! enjoy if you can lmao. TW for poorly written ptsd, references to beheading and axe murder and snuggles.

1920, Quebec City.

"I'm fine." His baby brother said, even as he looked like he desperately needed to lay down.

"Matt, that cough does not sound good,"

"It's fine," He said, stifling another fit with a harsh swallow. Alfred grimaced and jogged to keep up as Matt strode ahead on the rain-battered sidewalk and took the umbrella with him, like speeding up would disprove the implication he wasn't at perfect 100%. How could it sound like he'd been gassed recently?

"You sound miserable,"

"It's fine," Matthew said again, shrugging and knuckling his chest as he struggled to keep his breathing even. "It's just the weather. Tell me about the new Ford coming out,"

"Oh it's a beauty, they're even going to come out with other colours than black," Alfred said, longing to reach out and squeeze Matt's shoulder and steer him inside. "But it will mostly only affect internal market goods.

"Interesting. What are the implications with free trade?"

"Don't try to distract me. I know you don't give a shit about economic law unless you're being forced,"

"If it interests you, it interests me,"

"You can't force yourself to be quiet through this,"

Matt rolled his eyes. "I'm not dying,"

"You kind of sound like you are,"

"Then I'll die!" Matt shrugged and gave one of his rare, frustrated Gallic shrugs. "C'est la vie! And honestly, it'd be nice to sleep without waking up coughing. Wake up and go to work tomorrow with more than an hour of sleep behind me,"

Alfred frowned, a surge of helplessness as he watched Matt press on through the rain as if determined to outpace whatever was wrong. Alfred lengthened his stride to keep up and get back under the umbrella, snatching it from Matt’s hand to make him slow down.

“Come on,” He said, steering them both down the path towards the subway stop.

Halfway down the park hill, he couldn't stifle anymore and ended up clinging to a tree branch, doubled over and coughing so hard veins corded at his forehead and throat and when he breathed, he shuddered through another bout so hard Alfred thought he was going to throw up all over the park path. He sucked in air and the wheeze that accompanied it was so horrific Alfred grabbed his shoulders and steered him to a bench as Matthew tried to get his breathe. Air coming in and out rapidly and almost uselessly like Matt was breathing through shredded black smiths billows. Alfred pulled him upright.

Two neatly dressed couples threw them dirty looks like Matt was some infectious consumptive polluting a public park. Alfred glowered right back. He might have flirted with the one who’s dainty green dress that was fashionably short to show off shapely legs but now he was just frustrated.

"Go fuck off to the circus if you want to gawk at something!" He yelled and the men sped along, dragging the women with them. Matt made another face gesturing for Alfred to stop but couldn't get words out as coughing wracked him all over again.

It was another five minutes of Matt coughing and coughing and coughing before he stopped and collapsed on Alfred's shoulder, heaving.

"Jesus Christ, Matt," Alfred said. “You sound like you’re dying.

"I’m not—" Matt heaved air, it caught in his throat and he hacked out another pounding cough that left him spasming and shivering against Alfred. "It comes and goes,"

"Are you sure it's not consumption?"

"Yeah, Dad made them x-ray me three times during demobilization, I'm just like this now,"

"What? Chronically asthmatic?"

Matt shook his head. "I’m not chronically anything. It’s just a bad day every now and and again."

"Is that what doctors say?"

Matt nodded and leaned more heavily onto him, panting again.

"You're burning up," Alfred could feel it against his coat. “Mattie…”

Another nod. “Like I said, it comes and goes.”

He sighed, getting them to their feet. “Christ, Matt.”

“Oh, don’t look so sad.” Matt rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, the supply of your favourite whiskey isn’t about to dry up.”

“Is that what you think? Fuck you.” Alfred scowled. “You’re such a–” Realization dawned on him and he turned to his brother, grabbing his shoulder again. “You little shit. You’re trying to piss me off so I leave this alone, aren’t you?”

Matt blinked, taken aback. “Fuck me, you finally figured that one out?”

“You little asshole,” He laughed. “That is so manipulative.”

“Hardly. You’re so self righteous usually all I have to do is mention Dad and you’ll leave me alone for a month. What is this? Character development?” He laughed, and the coughing started again.

This time, Matt didn’t argue when Alfred insisted they go home. The grey stone heart of his brother’s first city, into the stone houses behind the stone walls the English and the Americans had besieged more than once. Behind slate walls, warm wood greeted them as they passed through the red door with the same iron hinges, squashed between what had once been the apothecary and the bakery. Matt had once been stingy with the firewood but now he had electricity and the coal fired boiler in the basement that heated the house beyond the parlour with its polished brass fire grate and brick hearth.

"Sit," Matth said as he leaned against the wall. He threw aside his damp coat and propped himself against the worn wood. Scrubbing his damp hair off his forehead, he sighed. "I guess I should make coffee and sandwiches or something."

“Will you bite my head off if I offer to make something?” Alfred asked, cautiously toeing off his shoes.

Matt gave a wry sort of look, almost amused. “No.”

“Hallelujah.” Alfred replied, throwing his hands above his head.

“Don’t push it.” Matt said but his face was light.

Alfred chuckled and headed to the kitchen. He rummaged through the cabinets, with all the fine little details of grapevines heavy with fruit and swirling knotwork that reminded him of Aunt Brighid’s embroidery. He thumbed one and wished she was there. She wouldn’t put up with this. He put on water to boil, dug a slightly dessicated chicken carcass out of the fridge, tore it apart to make sandwiches, put the bones on to make soup and returned to the living room with a mug and a plate for each of them.

Matt was sprawled on sofa, his face pink. Alfred didn’t want to wake him up, they both spent so much time ignoring the other’s nightmares these days. He still looked like Matt when he was asleep, sweet and still, like the man the cherubic baby Matt should have grown into rather than the wraith that had to shake off their father or the trenches. But he was feverish and Alfred made himself wake him.

“Here,” He said, handing Matt tea and the sandwich.

“Thanks.” Matt said quietly. He drank the tea eagerly but set the plate down next to him.

“Eat that.” Alfred said, taking a bite out of his own and throwing himself onto the leather chair. “You always do this when you’re sick. Don’t want to eat, don’t want to bother anyone, don’t want to admit you feel like ass. Just like Dad. It’s fucking annoying.”

“No one said you have to be here.” Matt glared, but he had picked up the sandwich and taken a decent bite. “Happy?”

“Never happy when you’re miserable.”

Matt snorted. “Oh, that’s bullshit.”

“Stop.” Alfred sat forward, hands on each of the chair’s arms. “Stop, okay? God. I know you’re–”

“Know I’m what?” Matt took another bite of the stupid sandwich and there was a flash of something flinty and dark behind his eyes Alfred didn’t like.

“Like how you always are after a war,”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you get good at killing and keeping everyone alive and–”

“And what?” Matt said.

“You get shit at everything anything else.” Alfred desperately wanted a cigarette but it felt a bit cruel. “Bring back Gilbert’s head like some sort of fucked up barn cat, sure, you’re great at that. But lay down and act like a human being? God forbid.”

“Oh don’t you–” Matt sighed through his nose and ate more, and too Alfred’s bewilderment, smiled. “You know how often I tell Dad something like that?”

Alfred stared, but leaned back, holding his coffee. “You back talk the old man?”

“Bringing Gilbert’s head back like a fucked up barn cat gave me some leeway.” Matt said, the sly smile on his face fading into something more serious. “But yeah. By the end, by the hundred days, we talked. About what I did. About what he didn’t stop. And I told him to shove it up his ass sometimes. He’s a hypocrite and so am I.”

“Sometimes.” Alfred responded. “You’re still a pretty good brother though.”

“Thanks.” Matt said. “I try.”

“I know.” Alfred said. “And I’m sorry I don’t sometimes.”

Matt shrugged. “Not your job. You don’t have to waste your time if you don’t want too. I’ll live, the overpriced booze will keep flowing. I shut up and do my job, everyone benefits. It’s fine.”

“We’re brothers.” Alfred said. “We’re supposed too… I don’t know.”

“You’re a rising great power, I’m the favourite knife of the British Empire. We have our roles. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want too.”

“Matt–”

He’d drooped against the arm of the sofa, breathing ragged, unable or unwilling to reply.

“You with me?”

“Yeah.” He responded, hoarse. “Sorry.”

“Is this from the gas too?”

“Yeah,” He didn’t off anymore of an explaination and Alfred shook his head.

“Dumbass,” He stood, and crouched to reach out. He gently placed the back of his hand against his brother’s forehead. “All you have to do is ask for help and, fuck, I think you’re warmer.”

“Just tired.” He murmured, but he didn’t open his eyes.

“Mattie…” How many times in a day could he let denial slide before it was stupid? Matt was trying to rally himself, push Alfred off and reach for the tea, muttering about how he was fine when there was a loud crack. The windows rattled and suddenly he had his arms full of his brother, shaking like the last maple leaves on the trees, eyes screwed shut and mouthing something in French Alfred couldn’t make out.

“Hey,” Alfred laughed nervously. “Hey, you cold?”

“They’re coming.” Matt said, and the fever flush had disapeared. He looked bloodless. “They’re coming.”

“Hey.” Alfred suddenly understood. “Hey it’s okay. I’m right here. Matthew, I am right here. Nothing’s wrong. It was a car backfiring, not gunfire. No one’s coming.”

Matt leaned in more, burying his face in Alfred. “You don’t let anything happen to me.”

“Never have, never will.” Alfred rested one cheek on Matt’s feverish head. He held on tight, feeling the tremors that sprang through Matt until they stilled. But Matt’s breathing was still fast and shallow. He hadn’t been this close in a while, and the path of Matt’s spine showed through his layers, and he’d had that pinched up look half his life.

“Come on.” He said, gently. “Bed.”

“No.” He burrowed against Alfred more tightly, like he was four, barely spoke English and it was a cold morning he didn’t feel like greeting just yet. He’d always had a streak of stubbornness.

Eventually, Alfred got him up, got him to change and horizontal. He was a little delirious, shivering between the sheets and coughing until he was curled in a ball and muttering about how he needed his axe. But he didn’t get up to get it. He breathed through a split lip and rolled around trying to get comfortable. Alfred fed him pills and glass after glass of water, and somewhere around the seventh, Matt seemed to pass out into real sleep. Alfred sat on the bed and pressed his hands to Matt’s cheeks and was relieved to find it a little cooler.

Matt rolled over towards him, hugging his side, demanding warmth and making a contented sound when Alfred let him with a snort. “You always were a snuggly baby.”

#the ask box || probis pateo #Ideas || i should write this someday #hws canada #hws america #matthew || my country is winter #alfred || o beautiful for spacious skies #my writing || cacoethes scribendi #alfred and matt || lonely boys with the longest borders

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