#i wanna see that marching band

[mysteriesmuse]

Football Player Katsuki + Marching Band Girlfriend

Like all his stupid friends here, he met you at UA University Freshmen Orientation — Group 1-A. The same group of eclectic college kids that are around today all hanging out between the Varisty Sports and Spirit Teams. Still doesn’t understand how you all managed to be put together like that. Katsuki sees you regularly ever since then. Football Player Katsuki who sees you sitting in the university cafeteria sitting with Squeaky, Tape Arms, and Round Cheeks all smiles and giggles or all slouched and complaining. And on game days when he’s got the time he and some of the team go over and sit with y’all. Because Kirishima is real good friends with those two woodwind idiots— so Bakugou initially just gets dragged along. Football Player Katsuki Who always send a big wink and grin your way as he’s running through the tunnel before the start of the game. Who compliments your playing to the rest of the team and the compliments spread like wildfire back to your director and now you’re yelling back about “Katsuki stop complimenting my playing by name. Director Yamada keeps putting me on tunnel duty — at this point he’s gonna make it a permanent thing!” And Katsuki always shrugs watching the way you’re fighting a smile, instrument in hand, but he loves it when you do the pre-game mini pep tunnel thing with him. Always gets the chance to take a pre-game (pre pregame) photo with you. All color-coordinated with his jersey and your marching uniform. Football Player Katsuki Always standing on the sidelines with the other big players Midoriya, Todoroki, and Kirishima as y’all set up for pregame. The four of them taking the time to watch what y’all are doing — even if it’s the same each time. And if he’s part of kick off then he KNOWS he’s about to be running towards y’all as you scramble off the field. And he’s barreling towards the sidelines when he spots you in the crowd. Always making goofy faces at you when he slows down: big old monster hands and downright terrifying snarl of his canines and molars, but LIVES to see you smile bright when you notice him — fellow section members now knowing him by look slapping you on the lapels to grab you attention. For Katsuki to then mime a couple clicks of a paparazzi camera back at you. sauntering over with the rest of his team back to the sideline with a faint shout of “ — you looked good!” Leaves you with a section full of snickers and teases when you’re in the stands.

Football Player Katsuki who steps on your toes all the time for these dangerous and unorthodox training schemes that his denfensive coach Aizawa comes up with. Your director Yamada somehow agreeing to letting the entire defensive team zig-zag through the marching bands box-drill warm-up. Coach Aizawa doesn’t even regulate everyone to specific sections of the “drill” — which is what you band kids read and walk everyday. He lets the team run their laps beforehand to limber up and Bakugous sharp red eyes are always watching as you’re coaching your section on the whole drill. The angst on you and his friends faces makes him wince espically when the drills starts — it’s like a mazey hell of some kinda freaky spooky mind-control shit bc you’re all moving the exact same — and also not.

Bakugou’s a big guy — tall shoulders, broad shoulders, and pretty jacked — and so is the rest of the team. And Bakugou always ends up in your section of the drill: the team and marchers absolutely scared out of their wits. And luckily y’all have your stinking movements memorized for all these turns bc you always end up turning smack dab into his chest — at least once (and no y’all do not have instruments that’d be irresponsible on Director Yamada’s part) — and then being able to maneuver around him with a beaming grin and a polite little shove into a safe spot always pausing in chanting the numbers to say, “better luck next time babe!” 7- 8. And when it’s said and done you and his friends will skip over to him and Kirishima. All laughing and comparing tallies of how many people got in your way — and he can feel his ears steaming with the way you playfully punch his shoulder and say that he’s “always on your dot” whatever the hell that means. Football Player Katsuki who practically has your little band songs memorized for all his plays. And he makes a lot of touchdowns — always waiting on that delayed cheer of your voice coming from the band stands afterwards

— always looking up waiting for your delayed smile and wave, bc you were busy fighting down a smile while playing and dancing to the fight song for the touchdown he just made.

you, Round Cheeks, Squeaky, and Tape Arms always bursting into a song and singing your parts to some band kids tunes whenever some particular trigger word falls from someone’s mouth in conversation.

Like his number? 17? He can’t get past the Seven part because Uraraka starts wailing on an imaginary horn singing the low brass line while you and the two woodwind nerds start throwing down some funky dance moves.

and he hates himself when he’s taking a break on the sidelines and him and current benchwarmer Shinsou start humming some little ditty when Midoriya and Kirishima make a first down on the field. The two of them sharing concerned glares before staring up at y’all laughing and wailing just down the way. “We never speak of this again, got it?” “Got it.”

Football Katsuki whom you always pass on your way to set-up for pregame. The man always covered in dirt and grime with his hairband pushing back his blonde bangs. The little stereotypical thick black paint smudged across his face as you pass by him with a gentle little hand to the back. And he turns around with those red eyes accentuated by those big black smears and gives you a grinning smile. Always attempting to peck his gf’s cheek before you go into place and you always taking a step back with a teasing giggle, “can’t right now ‘Suki I’m in uniform.” And you love watching his nose scrunch and his eyes flutter open, lips still pucked as you blow him a kiss. The student going crazy because the camera man has caught onto y’all a few times. Suki’ always crossing his arms and rolling his eyes shouting “break a leg!” As you prepare. Football Player Katsuki who waits around with his mates before he sees you run over to him. You and your friends now changed into regular clothes and ready to head home and shower. After he’s just helped win the whole thing and you’re walking, stomping, staggering over to him in shambles and you come up and dodge HIS KISS??! Always whining and pointing an accusatory finger like “Suki’ you made my lips hurt!” And he’s always like baby how?? And you’re like too many good touchdowns. I had to play the fight song too many times :(

Has his mates howling!!! 👏 he just doesn’t understand :((

Football Player Katsuki who also makes that adorable scrunchy face of confusion when you flip-flop between telling him that’s he’s gonna help take the team all the way to the championship!! And then you pulling back with a fearful face and whispering, “but then I have to go to finals. I have to play at finals. I have to be on the band bus to get to finals.” And he chuckles and naively says oh it can’t be that bad. Only to get a genuine slap to his arm as you glare up at him “never say that again.” A dark energy he can only explain as marching band trama when he sees your frantic pleas of a text when he tells you he’s about to reach the point in the flight where he’s gotta put his phone up. He believes you when y’all show up days later at the venue. All smelly, all angsty, all hangry from the drive over. Has him cooing over you as you mumble and grumble waiting in line with an equally agitated Round Cheeks and Ponytail as the band waits for its 400 or so members to be given room keys. A total sunshine/dark cloud reversal. Always shakes his head at Dance/Cheer Team Friend Mina who’s already been here the same amount of time he has. Short pink curls bouncing over to ask how it’s been only to see everyone else with glare as if her cheery attitude is a death wish. Immediately cowering behind him and cooing and fretting over y’all band kids just the same seriously what happened to y’all? Doesn’t matter, y’all won’t answer. The band bus is still the band bus even in college. Football Player Katsuki who helps drive/walk you home afterwards again getting a flimsy puffy and chapped lipped peck at your door after every game. Being incredibly dramatic as insists he’s in “kiss withdrawal” when you don’t kiss him the next day because your lips are still recovering. LIVES for the day-after when you’re all better. And you finally give him a good fixing of those kisses he’s been missing out on. And he looks so smitten with all your invisible chapstick lip stains and little mosquito pecks; absolutely adorable. And you can’t help but roll your eyes when he pouts up at you, blinking those thick lashes. “Still in a tremendous deficit!” He nods eagerly as you rolls your eyes and start smooching every corner and curve of his face again. Laughing between kisses “seriously suki’ it hurts! you don’t understand”

you’re right he doesn’t, but luckily he’ll wait for his victory kisses. Doesn’t ever wanna put you in more pain after a game day 🥺

#mysteriesmusing #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou headcanons #bakugou fluff #btw for something that no one asked for in my head Uraraka is baritone leader #Kaminari is alto sax leader and Sero tenor sax leader #and then Momo is obviously assistant DM and Mina is the chipper Dance/Cheer team friend #And I would love to know if any other marching band kids see this!! Like what y’all play??! I wanna know #I am a sousaphone!! :D

[zellkabellk]

My next tattoo project has been accepted by the tattooist 🙈🙈🙈 Their artist name is "Odji" and they do SUCH COOL SHIT I fell in love the moment I saw their stuff.... I'm getting 3 of their flash together above one of my knees (wrapping around the leg a lil) >:)

The session isn't till november tho (I travel at the end of october and I didn't want to have a big healing tatt WHILE TRAVELLING) but I'll keep this lil thread updated when I get there 🙏

#beary talk #beary life #odji #tattoo #tattoos #tatouage #tatouages #odji tattoo #odji tatouage #rly wanna get around to finding a handpoke tattooist around where I live too to try it out #ALSO I GOTTA MOVE MY ASS AND ACTUALLY DRAW THE SPECIFIC TATTS I WANT mkfjhgdsmkgfdsjg #there's bands around the forearms and bulls either on the ribs or shoulder/chest that I want #but I gotta actually try designs and see what shapes could fit.... #at least for the bulls now I think Odji could be a rly good style fit so... I know who to go ask to do them (maybe) #if they find the idea cool when i get around to doing it #but also about this one tatt on my leg #the idea once it's healed it to design a little 'fanfare' of tiny demons and fauns playing instruments #like a marching band #going around the kneecap #i think it'll look rly fun and cool #and later still on my other leg I'll get sth that's a bit equivalent to this BUT WITH BATS #because bats FUCK HARD best animal tbh

[roxinmypox]

Guys what if I told you I’m a little excited for band camp would you smite me

#it sucks #BUT #it’s a little fun #:3 #band camp #band #bandcamp #summer band #marching band #marching season #flute #flute player #I wanna see #new freshmen #I promise #I’ll draw soon

[rennsdeaddoves]

Please T-T I just wanna talk to my silly little characters in my silly little scenarios 😭😭😭😭😭

#it’s down #I really don’t wanna tag today #but we gotta #how could this happen to me #when i was a young boy #my father took me out to the city #to see a marching band

[ankiebitez]

mighg post some headcanons of what instruments i think the obey me characters would play if they were in marching band literally just for myself bc im sad im not doing it this year </3 idc if they're immortal demons i wanna see them do a little shimmy across the band field

#obey me #obey me shall we date #it started plaguing my thoughts bc i realized that the rad uniform has the shoulder cape like my drum majors uniform does #and now i wanna see a RAD marching band uniform

[denebofcygnus]

people be fucking normal about college football challenge (level: impossible)

#i wanna go see the marching band!! #idgaf about the other bitches on the field #but unfortunately i cannot get tickets to see the band because everybody care about the other bitches on the field

[stevebckley]

Steve lost confidence after Nancy and now cannot comprehend blatant flirting. Like he can flirt with someone if he starts it but if he’s not initiating? He’s clueless.

The Corroded Coffin boys have a very unserious bet going to see who can get Steve to finally realize he’s being flirted with because Eddie’s been trying for months without success.

Gareth brings him homemade food and tells him how good he looks.

Jeff makes them learn his favorite song so they can play it for him on stage.

Freddie even brings him flowers and Steve just turned bright red and stutters out a confused thank you.

The three of them are at wits end after a few weeks and finally all traipse into Family Video when they know just Robin is on shift by herself to ask her what the fuck is wrong with him.

She laughs so hard she nearly falls off the counter. When she collects herself finally she explains that after everything, his idea of friendship includes all the this stuff.

Flower, and affection and attention? All things that Steve does for her and anyone he loves. Fuck, I mean they sleep in the same bed half the time!

“Honestly guys, short of someone marching up to him and telling him that they wanna take him out on a date and make out with him, he’s not going to assume anything.”

This leaves the group in kind of a state of confusion, Eddie managing to look completely lost in thought.

It all comes to a head during their next band practice.

Steve joins them like he always does when he doesn’t have work, letting himself into the garage and flopping onto the couch with Gareth and Freddie.

He automatically tosses his feet over Freddie’s lap, tucking his head into Gareth’s lap in a blatant excuse to let Gareth run his fingers through his hair.

Eddie is running late, so they’re all just waiting when Gareth can’t hold it in any longer.

“Are you as dense about people flirting with you as Robin says or are you deliberately ignoring it? I can never tell.” He feels bad now because Steve has stiffened under his finger.

“What do you mean? Who’s been flirting with me?”

All three boys start to laugh but it makes Steve shrink further into himself.

“No, no. I’m sorry, we are being assholes Steve. But honestly we’ve been flirting with you for weeks! Freddie brought you handpicked flowers, I’ve been making you cookies and Jeff serenaded you on stage!” Gareth is trying not to notice as Steve’s face flushes deeper and deeper. “That’s not to mention everything about Eddie.”

Steve is quiet for a moment, voice sad as he asks them if they only were being nice to him because they were flirting with him.

Gareth’s heart breaks a bit as he assures Steve that they were only really trying to make him feel loved and were being silly.

“We wouldn’t have done any of that if we didn’t wanna be friends with you, babe. You just get really cute when you’re flirted with and we’re all only men. Can’t resist a pretty face.”

Gareth is interrupted by Eddie busting into the room wearing a tee shirt that proudly proclaims ‘PLEASE MAKE OUT WITH ME STEVE IM VERY INTO YOU!”

Steve very easily pulls himself upright, launching himself into Eddie’s arms with a grin, dragging their mouths together in a very loud kiss that gets the whole room cheering.

“I’ve been waiting for you for months, Munson.” Steve says, loud enough for the whole room to hear.

Gareth groans and throws a pillow off the couch, pegging it off Steve’s back.

“Don’t even act like he’s not been flirting with you for months! It’s not that man’s fault you’re dense!”

#Steddie #Steddie fic #Steddie ficlet #corroded coffin #gareth emerson #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #my writing #Steddie Drabble #Steve Harrington is dense #silly ficlet

[i-fucked-both-your-parents]

STARTING HIGHSCHOOL TOMORROW IM SCARED CAUSE I FEEL LIKE IM GONNA BE SO FUCKING LOST AND I REALLY HOPE THEY GIVE US A MAP OR IM FUCKED 

#i also have to sneak off to the band room and idk what time to do a marching band performance for the freshmen (cause it’s freshmen day) #Plus I have literaly no idea where shit is and where we are being dropped off I just wanna see my besties #we do get a 1hr lunch cause it’s freshmen day and it’s just us so that’s slay #it’s more of a find your classes and listen to people do things day then an actual learning day

[lovelybucky1]

Smoke Me Out

Kinktober Day 3- Corruption Kink

warnings: female!reader, college!au, drug use (weed), slight age gap (everyone 18+), slight dubcon, sex while under the influence, childhood friends, brothers best friend!anakin, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, cum play, tattooed and pierced anakin, 18+ minors dni

masterlist

kinktober masterlist

you are half way through your first semester of college and you've never felt more uncool in you're entire life. you rushed for a sorority and you got into alpha delta pi, and though they have parties every weekend where you get drunk, you still feel like you're missing a key aspect of the college experience.

you want to get high. you've never smoked anything before and you're nervous to ask your sorority sisters or a frat guy to help you through your first time. you didn't know who else to ask to supply good stuff or even who to trust other than anakin.

you've known him forever. he's your brother's best friend and he was always around when you were growing up. you used to have the biggest, most hopeless crush on him when you were younger. now he's a junior at the same college you go to, but it's a state school, everyone from your hometown goes there.

when you finally decide to ask anakin to give you some weed, you text him, telling him you're coming over. no information or anything, just "omw".

you walked the mile or so to the off campus house anakin shares with your brother and a couple other friends. when you walk up, you see the porch light is on, illuminating the figure on the porch.

"your brother's not here," anakin says instead of a greeting.

"i'm not here for him," you say as you skip up the porch steps. anakin sits on a dingy lawn chair and smokes a cigarette, the pungent smell filling the air.

"so what do you want?" he asks, raising a pierced brow at you.

"well..." you start, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

"well?"

"i want some weed."

anakin lets out a chuckle. "you're not serious."

"i am! i wanna do it but i don't want to do it for the first time with a stranger."

a slight smirk forms on anakin's lips but he does not make a comment about your double entendre.

"that's cute."

you frown. "i'm serious, anakin. can't you help me out?"

anakin hums like he's thinking about it. "no."

"what? why not?" you whine. "i can pay, i have money."

"it's not about the fuckin' money," he rolls his eyes. "i'm just not going to let my little sister get high."

"i'm not your little sister," you huff.

"might as well be."

"i'm an adult, anakin! i can make my own decisions."

he picks up his foot and stubs his cigarette out on the heel, then tosses the butt onto the porch. he stands up and now, instead of being blow you in the chair, he has to look down to meet your eyes.

"and i can decide not to give you any."

you cross your arms and look up at him. you know it's a bit childish, but if he's going to treat you like one anyway, what's the harm?

"fine then. i'll just get some frat guy to smoke with me."

that seemed to get a rise out of anakin. "no you fuckin' won't," he says, voice gruff.

"i will. you know i'm in a sorority now. i have frat guys busting down my door. i'm sure i'd have a line waiting if i said i wanted to smoke."

anakin's frustration seems to grow when he sees the smirk on your lips. without another word, he grabs your forearm and yanks you, forcing you to follow him into the house.

"anakin!" you exclaim, but he ignores you.

he practically drags you up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom. you've never been inside it, only having seen it from the doorway of your brother's room by the stairs.

he marches you over to his dresser and you take in the sight of the room. navy blue sheets on an unmade bed, dirty clothes on the floor, a pair of panties you suspect aren't his at the foot of the bed. empty beer cans, some with holes in the sides, litter the top of the dresser. he has a small box of jewlery for his piercings, a poster of his favorite band, and a framed picture of him with you and your brother as kids.

the room is gross, not unexpected for a 22 year old, but it feels like anakin. evidence of his vices everywhere, but touches of personality shine through.

"you want me to smoke you out, huh?" he opens the top right drawer of his dresser and takes out a pre-roll and a lighter. "here you go."

you take it from him, but you don't feel as excited as you thought. anakin's attitude is kind of killing your vibe.

"are you mad at me?" you ask.

"mad? no," he says, looking at you with crossed arms. "just a little annoyed that you came here beggin' for weed and got all bratty and started running your mouth when i said no."

"i did not get bratty!" you whine, sounding very bratty.

anakin rolls his eyes. he turns and walks towards the window, pushing it open and sitting down next to it. you follow and sit across from him, the blunt and lighter in each hand.

"what do i do?" you ask.

"christ, haven't you ever seen a movie before? you put this end in your mouth," he points to the filter end. "and you light this end."

you do as he instructs, and attempt to take a drag. you end up inhaling too deep and you start to cough, eyes watering. anakin doesn't laugh at you, but he does give you a satisfied little smirk.

you take another hit and this time it goes better, you only cough a little bit. anakin reaches over and grabs the blunt from your hand and you frown.

"you're not smokin' this whole thing yourself."

anakin puts it in his mouth, right were a ring of your lip gloss is, and took a drag just like he taught you, but his was perfect. he didn't cough or choke, and the cloud he exhaled swirled out the window.

he gives it back to you and watches as you take another clumsy drag. when you hand it to him again, he takes a long drag but doesn't pass it back.

"hey," you whine.

"that's enough for your first time," he says.

"that was barely anything, anakin."

"it hasn't hit you yet. you wanted me to take care of you, right?"

you huff. "yeah."

"so shut up."

you roll your eyes but decide not to argue further. you and anakin sit next to the window, letting the slight cool breeze blow in on you. you feel yourself become more fuzzy as time passes. you're not very high, but it just enough to satisfy your curiosity.

"how do you feel?" anakin asks after some time of silence.

"good. fuzzy."

"that's good. means you're not too far gone." anakin takes a pause before continuing. "i can't believe you were gonna let a fucking frat guy smoke you out. do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

your eyes flick back up to meet his; you hadn't realized you were staring at his lips. "some of them are nice."

"nice," he scoffs. "they're only nice because they want to fuck."

"that's not true," you huff.

anakin takes a hit and when he speaks, smoke pours from his lips.

"jesus, you're so naïve. frat guys like dumb inexperienced sorority girls."

"are you calling me dumb?"

"yeah i am. you need to stay away from those guys."

"well it's a little too late for that," you bite.

anakin's brows furrow and his lip curls in disgust. "you didn't sleep with one of them, did you?"

"not just one."

anakin sighs loudly and shakes his head. "what the hell were you thinking?"

"i was at a party and we just had fun. don't act like you've never had casual sex before." anakin stubs out the blunt on the window sill and leaves it there to smolder. he gets up from the floor and walks around the room aimlessly. "why are you being so dramatic? are you jealous or something?"

anakin's eyes snap over to yours. "no, i'm not fuckin' jealous. no one's fuckin' allowed to touch you."

"why do you get to decide that?" you shout, feeling your blood boil with anger.

"because you're mine!" he yells back, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "i protect you, i keep you fucking safe from assholes like the ones you're just falling into bed with."

"i’m not a child, i don't need you to protect me!"

"i obviously haven't done a very good job. why would you even want a frat guy, they don’t know how to fuck.”

“and you do?”

you’re not sure why you said it. it’s irrelevant to the argument but for some reason it just slipped out. you can’t say you’ve never thought about how anakin would fuck before. you’ve spent many nights up late thinking about your older brother’s best friend.

“yeah i do,” he says, voice low. “i could show you what good sex is. it’s nothin’ like you had with those guys.”

your breath catches in your throat at the unexpected development. is anakin offering to fuck you?

“i thought you said i was like your little sister,” you say, suddenly timid.

“that's what you're hung up on?” he asks as he crosses the room in a few short strides. standing right in front of you, anakin towers over you. you have to crane your neck to look up at him, meeting his light eyes. "let me do my job and teach you something, huh?"

you shyly nod, none of the anger from moments ago fueling your actions any longer. desire burns in anakin's eyes, and although its odd that he is looking at you in such a way after being nothing more than platonic your whole life, it doesn't feel wrong.

"you want me to kiss you?" anakin asks. again, you nod.

he leans his head down and presses his lips to yours. it's not very tender, but you didn't expect it to be. his lips are slightly chapped and the kiss is rough. he's claiming you. anakin's hands grip onto your wrists and he pins them to your sides as he continues to explore your mouth.

when he pulls away, his lips glisten with spit and he's smirking down at you. he walks you over the bed and grabs the hem of your shirt. without saying anything, you raise your arms above your head and he takes it off, leaving you in your bra. anakin looks at your chest shamelessly, eyes drinking in the sight of you.

"anakin," you say, embarassed.

"what? you wanted me to fuck you and now you're getting all shy when i look at your tits?" he palms your breasts through your bra, watching them bounce. "how're you gonna react when i see your pussy?"

"don't say that," you whine.

"say what, pussy?" you nod. "aw, is that too dirty for you, sweetheart?"

he grins as he takes off his own shirt and tosses it to the floor. you ogle at his bare torso, acting like it's your first time seeing it. he has gotten more tattoos since the last time you saw him shirtless, and his left nipple has a silver bar through it.

without waiting for you to catch up, anakin undoes the buckle on his jeans and pushes them down to his ankles, kicking them off before removing his socks. now he's left only in a pair of loose plaid boxers that rest low on his hips, showing off the star tattoos on his hip bones. he then motions to you to do the same.

you kick off your shoes and socks, then more timidly, you take off your pants. you're left standing in your childhood crush's bedroom in your underwear.

"come on, take off your panties," he says, grinning. "let me see that pussy." you pout in response. he steps closer to you, putting his large, warm hands on your hips. "do you want me to do it for you?" you bite your lip and nod slightly.

he holds onto the waistband of your panties and pulls them down as he sinks to his knees. he lets the delicate fabric fall to the floor and he looks hungrily at the newly exposed area. he leans his face in and presses his nose to the joint of your leg and groin, taking a deep inhale of your scent.

"anakin!" you squeal, grabbing his hair and pushing his head away.

"what's wrong?" he asks, sitting back on his heels.

"don't be mean to me."

"i'm being mean? imagine how those frat guys would treat you. actually, don't."

anakin pushes you back on the bed and he crawls between your open legs, resting his cheek on your thigh as he stares at your pussy.

"what a pretty cunt," he smirks.

teasingly, he traces his finger over your slit, gathering your wetness. he circles your clit to gauge your reaction, delighted when you squirm.

"i bet most guys can't even find this. the most action it's probably seen is from you playin' with it yourself," he says, eyes flicking up to yours. "is that true?"

you squeeze your eyes shut and nod, evoking a laugh from anakin.

"this poor, neglected little pussy," he coos. "what do you think about when you touch yourself?"

"i-i'm not telling you that," you say, voice breathy.

anakin tuts as he pushes his long, slender middle finger into you.

"i bet it's not any of the guys who can't make you cum. is it a celebrity? what's the name of the actor you used to be obsessed with? i was so jealous if him."

"you, anakin," you whimper.

"what was that?"

"i think about you."

anakin grins and slides another finger into your pussy, curling them up to rub at that spot deep inside you.

"that's a good thing, then, because you're all i think about too."

"please fuck me, anakin," you beg, your voice sounding unfamiliar to your own ears.

"already? but you've only taken two fingers. are you sure you're gonna be able to handle my cock?"

as desperate as you are, you're growing tired of anakin's coddling.

"i'm sure i've taken bigger. just fuck me."

anakin raises his eyebrows and blinks at you a couple times, clearly offended. he gets up from his knees and pulls down his boxers, letting his long, hard cock slap against his abdomen.

"alright then, since you want to be such a big girl, i'll give it to you."

he grabs your lower leg and hoists it over his shoulder as he lines his head up with your entrance.

"wait," you stop him. "are you clean?"

he gives you an unimpressed look. "yeah, i'm clean. are you?"

"yes," you nod.

"i'm not gonna knock you up, am i?"

"if it happens, it happens." anakin freezes. "i'm joking, you asshole. i'm on the pill."

he rolls his eyes and presses his tip into you. you whimper at the stretch but you give him the okay to keep going, so he continues. he feeds his cock into you and it feels never-ending.

"is it too big for you yet?" he asks smugly.

"shut up," you breathe.

after going slow to start, anakin seems to get tired of waiting. he pushes in until he's fully seated inside you, filling you up more than you ever have been. he then starts to rock his hips, driving his head deeper.

"fuck," he groans. "never imagined this pussy'd feel so good."

you reach down to rub your clit as he fucks you, feeling yourself becoming closer as he continues to stimulate your g-spot with his cock.

sex with your previous partners truthfully had not bern very satisfying. but with anakin, you find yourself hurtling towards the edge faster than you get with your favorite toy. maybe its from years of pent up attraction to him finally spilling over. maybe he’s just that good at sex.

“just like that,” you say breathlessly.

anakin is looking down at you with half-lidded, lust filled eyes. his mouth hangs open as he thrusts into you, really putting his back into it to fuck you hard like you deserve.

“little cunt’s squeezin’ my cock. guess she likes me, huh?” he asks with a smirk. you bring your arm up to cover your embarrassment from his babbling. “don’t be such a prude, i know you like what i’m sayin’. you’re soaking me. it’s dripping all the way down my balls, baby. you made such a mess of me with that slutty cunt.”

you let out an unintelligible whine and anakin laughs. your fingers speed up on your clit as anakin fucks you harder, keeping up with the intensity of the stimulation.

“i’m gonna cum,” you say quietly, like you’re confessing a shameful sin.

“yeah?” he asks. “cum all over my dick, baby. ‘m all yours.”

after a few more thrusts, the tension in your stomach releases and your orgasm washes over you. anakin continued to fuck you through it, dragging it out longer than just a few seconds.

when you finally let yourself relax, the stimulation becomes too much and you whine at anakin, telling him to stop.

“your little cunt not used to it being that good?” he asks as he pulls out.

his cock stands against his abs, slightly curved and glistening with your cum. he strokes himself as he looks at your body, deciding how he wants to cum.

“get on your knees,” he says.

“i don’t wanna blow you,” you saw, furrowing your brows at the thought of your juices in your mouth.

“i wanna cum on your tits. get on your knees.”

you stand from the bed on wobbly knees and kneel on the ground in front of anakin. he positions his dick in front of your face, but too far to taste it. he jerks himself off, using your cum as lube to make the glide smoother.

“look up at me,” he demands. you do so, looking up at his face with wide eyes instead of at his cock. “those pretty eyes,” he mumbles.

you watch his abs clench and flex as he nears his orgasm. it’s almost mesmerizing to see the physical reaction he has to you.

“want you to cum on me, anakin,” you say.

maybe you’re playing it up a bit for his sake, but it seems to work, because suddenly he’s moaning and hot spurts of cum paint your skin. he continues to jerk himself off until he’s finished, and as he catches his breath, he admires his artwork.

“fuck, baby,” he sighs.

anakin drops to his knees in front of you and drags his fingertips through the mess on your tits.

“that wasn’t your pay of getting payment for the weed, was it?” you ask, giggling.

“fuck no,” he pants. “nah, i did that cause i wanted to. and now i’m never gonna let you look at another frat guy again.”

#anakin #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin fanfiction #anakin fanfic #anakin skywalker x you #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[whyse7vn]

PALENTINES -

[ ot7 x reader ]

SINGLE LADIES 😁🔥

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

tae: gave my gf an hour long whimpering audio for valentines day

namjoon: you make me sick

jimin: this definitely counts as harassment

jk: yoongi got me a plastic fork

yoongi: yw

y/n: the audio was 5 minutes long????

tae: ok but i sent it to you 20 times

do the math????

jin: you sat there and whimpered into ur phone for 5 minutes that’s crazy

don’t you feel any shame??

tae: why would i feel shame?

it’s called being in love jin

you should try it sometime

jimin: it’s called harassment

hobi: ew man

jk: free asmr :D

jin: it’s gonna be free tae from jail soon

tae: no it won’t

jimin: ur right when you get locked up no one’s gonna want you free

hobi: KEEP TAE IN JAIL 🗣️💯

jk: personally i would want tae free

jimin: personally ur not real so it doesn’t matter what you want

jk: :ᗡ

hobi: ew how the hell did you flip it

i hate that

ew

jk: :ᗡ

hobi: HOW DID YOU DO THAT

jk: :ᗡ

hobi: STOP GO AWAY I HATE IT

namjoon: yoongi got jungkook a present this year?

yoongi: not by choice

y/n: it was by choice

hobi: it was a plastic fork

yoongi: a plastic fork not given by choice

y/n: yoongi

yoongi: no

y/n: please

yoongi: no

y/n: pretty please :3

yoongi: it was by choice

y/n: see told you!

yoongi: don’t understand why we have to buy each other shit on this holiday anyways

i like ONE of you not all of you

tae: am i the one you like be honest

yoongi: bye

y/n: it’s our silly little tradition don’t be a loser yoongi

yoongi: whatever

jin: ok anyways who ordered me a fucking marching band???

jk: idk but did you like it??

y/n: gonna take a wild guess and say it was jungkook

namjoon: i thought you have his card how did he order that??

y/n: he has apple pay now i can’t stop him 😕

hobi: wait no fair

jin did NOT deserve a marching band all he got me was his butter photocard???

jimin: he got me that too….

jk: OMG ME TOO >_<

tae: i don’t feel special anymore

namjoon: really jin?

y/n: mine was signed!!

yoongi: cheap

jin: you literally got kook a plastic fork?

yoongi: he loves it

jungkook tell him you love it

jk: i love it

yoongi: see

jin: whatever don’t care

jimin: namjoon got me a fucking book

jin: lol that’s crazy cuz you can’t read

jk: i’m sorry to hear you can’t read jimin hope you can soon :/

namjoon: i put a lot of thought into the book i got you

jin: that’s cute but he can’t read so

jk: i wish i was a book

tae: if you’re a book does that make you a tree?

jk: guys

y/n: no jungkook

jk: oh ok

jimin: i CAN read btw

yoongi: don’t care

jin: sounds like fake news

jk: omg wow ur a fast learner jimin you can read now!!!

jimin: ur talking way too much today

you should stop

jk: is he talking to me????

hobi: y/n got me a holiday to australia

i’m not gonna go cuz like bugs

but that was really nice

y/n: you’re welcome!!!!

tae: k but i got sex

y/n deleted this message!

tae: 😕

silencing me like they did MLK

jimin: what

jk: milk

hobi: did you just compare urself to mlk?

jin: yeah never say that again

tae: why not?? it’s true

yoongi: you are nothing like mlk

jk: tae ur not milk

namjoon: taehyung do not compare yourself to martin luther king ever again please and thank you

jk: or milk

y/n: and in black history month too…

tae: you don’t understand me or him

y/n: yeah ok

back to gifts

joon got me some really pretty flowers

jimin: boringggggggg he does that every year

jk: namjoon got me wood

hobi: ?

namjoon: statue

it’s a wooden statue thing

not just wood

tae: joon giving other boys wood for valentines ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

u wanna know who i gave MY wood too

y/n deleted this message!

namjoon: tae shut up

jin: saw that

tae: i’m just like mlk i’m telling you man

y/n: stop

tae: sorry

jimin: hobi got me shoes

hobi: i did

jk: hobi got me cheese

hobi: expensive cheese

y/n: i took yoongi to those cute photo booth things

yoongi: they didn’t need to know that

y/n: yes they did

we are sharing what we got each other

read the room yoongi

jimin: yeah yoongi read the room

tae: how tf u read a room??!

a room not a book ☠️☠️

u guys dumb as hell

jin: you not knowing what reading a room means makes a lot of sense actually

jk: send photobooth pics ^0^

bet u looked so cute

not you yoongi

y/n

her

not yoongi

i’m talking to y/n NOT you yoongi btw

yoongi: shut up

and no

you’ll never see those photos

jk: ☹️

hobi: so what did yoongi get y/n??

yoongi: don’t worry

tae: personally i’m worried

jk: me 2 guys yoongi is really scary

what if he killed her

y/n: ?

jin: i want to blow jungkook up

jk: i’m no ballon 😭

jimin: probably fucked for valentines let’s be real

tae: well that’s obviously NOT true lmao 😜 ☠️

yoongi: why is that “obviously” not true

we could of

tae: you didn’t

yoongi: and you know how?

tae: cuz i just know

yoongi: yeah ok

we could of for all you know

on the actual day too

tae: you weren’t even with her on valentine’s day

yoongi: and you were?

y/n: he wasn’t

tae: ok

but i could of been

yoongi: but clearly you weren’t

tae: neither were you

namjoon: both of you stop

tae: idk why yoongi acts all high a mighty

especially when it comes to her

y/n: ok that’s crazy

how about you don’t talk about me like i’m not here!

yoongi: idk why taehyung acts like he has a chance lmao

jk: guys

tae: that’s actually crazy

you’d be fucking surprised yoongi!!!!

yoongi: what’s that supposed to mean?

tae: what do you think it means?

tell me yoongi

guess

i’ll tell you if you’re right or not

yoongi: shut the fuck up

tae: or what?

hobi: why this kinda sexualllll

jimin: like 😭😭😭😭

y/n: LMAO STOP

jin: arguing over pussy that belongs to neither of them is crazy i’m just saying

jk: pussy \ ^0^ /

namjoon: how about we all stop arguing and move back to talking about the gifts we got eachother !!

hobi: jungkook got me a ballon

jk: yeah

do you love it

hobi: sure

jk: ^_^

jimin: personally i think hobi’s lying to you kook

jk: WHAT

jimin: i think he hates his ballon actually

jk: hobi pls say he’s lying

hobi: he’s lying

you see it may seem that way because on the outside im a very chill and nonchalant man

y/n: that is not true actually!

hobi: but on inside i am actually very chalant

EXTREMELY chalant no joke

so basically inside im going fucking crazy over the ballon jungkook gave me but it just doesn’t seem like that cuz im a chill guy

jk: but inside ur chalant

hobi: exactly

jk: jimin why would you lie to me

jimin: ur easy to lie to

jk: no im not

jimin: namjoon died in a car crash 24 hours ago

jk: NO NAMJOON OHHMYGOD NAMJOON NO

namjoon: i am not dead

jk: oh

y/n: how did you fall for that

namjoon cant even drive

jk: oh yeah

lol namjoon cant drive guys

namjoon: ok we all know

hobi: so what did you guys actually do on valentine’s day

jk: minecraft but then it got too scary so i played valorant instead

jimin: idk what any of that means but ok

i personally watched movies with joon

namjoon: yeah

i dropped by kook’s and y/n’s place first tho to give my gifts and stuff

hobi: where was my movie invite?????

jimin: we did call you

you were like high as hell

hobi: oh

wow

how real of me

jin: i cooked steak

jimin: for urself?

typical

jin: kys

no

for me and y/n actually

y/n: …

jin: my fault

yoongi: what

tae: oh

jk: SHE SAID SHE WAS BUSY

TTAHSTNOT FAIIROGJKFNKLDVLKFNKLFHKLNNDKVHNFKVNKLGNGR UFHDFHDKJ GHDKLNGFKLNGFG FHJDJHHGR DHGGRHBDNBF JGHKJGHGR

hobi: ????????????????????

namjoon: cool

jimin: jin???? out of everyone JIN??????

why would you fuck jin

jk: WHATR OHMYGOF WHAT?????? SHUT UP

jimin: on valentine’s day too…..

even fucking ME would make more sense than jin right now

jin: tf is that supposed to mean?

jimin: i said what i said lmao

tae: she cant of fucked jin

cuz she’s fucking me

yoongi: LMAOOOO

u really think your special dont you

thats crazy

jk: WHYIS EVERYONEFUCKING MY GIRLFRIENDOHMGYOJFDJFDKJDSDB

hobi: i dont get it even if she was fucking tae why couldn’t she fucked jin too?

y/n: i am like right here you know

tae: because me and her are serious

yoongi: serious???

you are just a rebound

tae: yoongi i think you’re just upset she didn’t come to you first after the whole jaehyun thing

yoongi: i’m glad she didn’t actually because now i know for sure i’m not rebound

you are

tae: shut the fuck up

yoongi: why? you getting upset?

idk why you’re acting like the victim here when you’re using her for the same thing

hobi: woah??

jimin: cap taehyung bitchless

yoongi: it’s time you stop using y/n to get over jennie and grow some fucking balls

jin: hold on

jimin: WAITTTTTTTT

hobi: SHUT FUCKING DOWN FR????

jk: imgonnapassout

y/n: oh

namjoon: yoongi

tae: i am not using y/n to get over jennie and you know that

hobi: wait ur fr??? taejennie was fr??

LIKE ACTUALLY?? OHMYGIDTHISISREAL??

yoongi: i know that? thats crazy how could i know that??

you didn’t even tell us about jennie

for over 3 months you were with her and you didn’t tell us

and then those photos of you and her were leaked and you were all depressed for ”no reason”

and now all of a sudden your obsession with y/n?

yeah you’re not using her you’re right i’m just fucking stupid aren’t i?

jimin: holy shit man

tae: i am not using her

yoongi: so why is yeontan with jennie right now?

y/n: tae you told me he was with you parents?

tae: yeah

but

i didn’t tell you that because im using you or anything i just said that because i didn’t want to cause any problems

y/n: you lied to me

for no reason

if you told me the truth it would of been fine

tae: i know

y/n: so when i came over

were you planing on sleeping with me anyways?

were you mad at yourself for calling jennie and leaving yeontan with her?

did you use me to help forget about it?

tae: did you use me to help get over jaehyun?

y/n: no

i can tell you that in full confidence no

now answer my question

tae: you know i would never do that to you

y/n: its a yes or no question taehyung

tae: i would never do that to you

yoongi: yes or no you asshole

tae: shut the fuck up

yoongi: answer her question

tae: leave me the fuck alone

tae left “SINGLE LADIES😁🔥”

jk: wow

y/n: didn’t sleep with jin btw

jk: ohthankgod

y/n: did sleep with tae once

we are NOT serious

jk: double ohthankgod

wait

y/n: and now i am going to sleep

jungkook come cuddle

gn all

jk: ON MY WAY OHMYGOD IM ON MY WAY

gn

jimin: good night …

hobi: nite!!

yoongi: gn

jin: goodnight

namjoon: gn

DOWNBAD😭🫵🏻 #2 (minus tae)

6 participants - 5 online

———————————

namjoon: yoongi that wasn’t fair

yoongi: i know

but she deserved to know

and he wasn’t gonna tell her any time soon

hobi: YOU AND NAMJOON KNEW THIS TAEJENNIE WAS REAL THIS WHOLE TIME????

yoongi: i just found out

namjoon knew longer

namjoon: not that long

jimin: ok but how do you know tae is using her fr?

yoongi: it’s not hard to connect the dots

jin: still you could be wrong

yoongi: well he didn’t deny it did he?

jimin: to me it looked like he didn’t know if he was using her or not

yoongi: well he needs to figure that out soon it’s not fair to her

or him ig

but mainly her.

—

hate this don’t care about anything bring back yellow….

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks

#bts crack #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts fic #bts text #bts x reader #btsxy/n #btsxyou #namjoon × reader #jin x reader #yoongi > reader #hoseok × reader #jimin x reader #taehyung × reader #jungkook × reader #bts texts #rm x reader #suga reader #vx reader #hope x reader #hobix reader #bts fake chats #bts incorrect texts

[tsumskz]

╰┈➤ skz trying to keep you quiet while the members are around

: will they succeed or fail ?

(bangchan and lee know)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, stomach bulging.

(part 1.) part2. part 3. part4.

bangchan :

- fail -

it was a long day of dance practice, getting out way later in the night then expected. deciding it was a good idea for all the members and you to get dinner before heading over to your boyfriends dorm to hang out

walking back from the delicious meal that you all had been craving, things between you and chan had been tense..at least that’s how you were feeling about the situation. watching him getting sweaty and hot made you wanna pounce him and he knew so that’s what you both had planned until you found out everyone was coming over.

you were frustrated to say the least, now your plans consisted of you marching to your shared bedroom, getting ready for bed and being upset at chan. which is exactly what you did when that front door opened, no words were said to any of them as you b line right for the room closing and locking it behind you

you’re about to do your nightly routine of getting in pajamas and doing your skincare when you remembered in order for you to do so youd have to leave the room to get to the bathroom. you had to make a run for it. grabbing your skincare bag you count to 3 before quite literally running to the shared bathroom in the hallway that was across from the living room aka where the boys were.

so being unnoticed was impossible but you had no choice. you just about made it when you hear someone call out to you making everyone look your way.

“where’d you go ? everyone’s been wondering where you went” familiar voice making you hesitantly turn around to see your boyfriend with a confused almost annoyed look on his face.

this wasn’t gonna stop you. you were stubborn and determined so without a word said back you get to your destination. finally able to enjoy the company of yourself and not 8 loud men, the warm water on your face felt heavenly.

a knock bringing you back to reality, that same voice from earlier outside the door asking a question you couldn’t quite hear. being the curious person you are, you open the door just to see what he might need but are meet with no words as he swings the door past you the second he gets his opening and hurdles in, pushing you against the wall covering your mouth with his hand.

“i know you’re mad at me but if you’re quiet..” he whispers moving his lips closer to your ear. “ i’ll make you feel good” you nod you head eagerly, without skipping a beat he turns you around, face pressed against the door. he pulls down your shorts feeling the wet spot that’s on already on your underwear, rubbing in circles. loud moan leaving your lips. he stops.

“channie please” you rut you hips back hoping to feel his fingers again but all you get is a soft slap on the ass, his hot breath hovering over your ear “i told you to be quiet” once he finally thinks you’ve calmed down, he’s messing with the band of his sweatpants pulling them down just slow enough for you to lose your mind.

“i bet you want everyone to hear how needy you get for me” giving himself a couple dry strokes of his fist, he slides into you, watching your face contort in what looks like going thru the 5 stages of grief. you jaw slacks open, and before any noise can be heard you cover your mouth.

his hips rock deep into you. every drag of his cock making tears form in your eyes. “fuck you’re such a good girl” the praise forcing a moan to rip thru your throat but is thankfully muffled by your hand

from the living room you can hear everyone questioning where chan went which makes you peek over at him, worried look on your face but not on his.

“can feeling you clenching hard on me baby” he reaches around to toy with your clit, knees on the verge of giving out. “you like this don’t you?” his words falling onto deaf ears as his fingers continue its pace.

“fuck chan i’m gonna cum” taking your hand off your mouth to hold yourself up as you give him a long string of moans that could’ve been considered screams as you cum, leaving a white ring around his cock not caring anymore if anyone heard.

your high suddenly interrupted by the shock of overstimulation, loud grunts are heard behind you. he’s so lost in chasing his orgasm he doesn’t even realize he’s being loud himself, continuing to pound into you over and over again till your both moaning like wolfs in heat.

“it feels so good” he’s practically drooling on your shoulder, ravaging you like this is the last time he’s ever gonna fuck you again. his cock thick and heavy, tip grazing your cervix. you can feeling him begin to lose the rhythm of his hips, hunching over. the most beautiful noises escaping his mouth and entering your ears as he fills you up.

the silence in the living room hitting you both like a train, scattering to put your pants back on before discussing a game play because there’s no way you guys can play this off but might as well try.

chan exits the bathroom first. he enters the room looking around only to be greeted by everyone either looking directly at him with their eyes bulging out of theirs skull or looking everywhere but him pretending to do something else.

to make matters even worse here you come walking out, to the same scene bangchan just experienced. there’s only one person who gets the balls to say something.

“YOU GUYS COULDNT HAVE WAITED TILL WE LEFT” hans voice echoing thru the whole dorm, managing to somehow lift the weight off the members shoulders and clear out the awkward air that was suffocating all of you.

“sorry” you guys laugh before running past them to hide away in the room.

“never again” you say traumatized by what just happened

“we’ll see about”

lee know :

- success? -

you and the members were all on a trip together filming another skz code. the traveling and constant cameras was really getting to you, all you wanted was some alone time with minho. which was pretty much impossible because no matter where you went there was another tiny camera hung up just ready to capture your every move.

so you settle for the huge walk in closet in the room, you and your boyfriend shared.resting on the floor for just a few moments before minho and han are telling you it’s time for dinner.

after the long day you just had. eating and playing those games that the boy were always doing even tho you didn’t quite understand most of them was the highlight of your day.

after everyone was done cleaning up you decide it’s the perfect time to make your attempt at sneaking your precious boyfriend away to have a little chat just to see if there was a possibility he’d be able to part from them later on in the night.

“cant you just wait till they’re all asleep in their rooms tonight?” you pout at his response as he walks away with a sigh. you knew it wasn’t possible but you needed him so bad.

12am quickly approaching, they were still going hard at karaoke or whatever activity they could get their hands on. as for you, you remained in your room absolutely exhausted as your eyes begin to close not even worried about the sound of a door opening but are quickly jolted awake at the sensation of minhos fingertips digging into your ass.

“i finally got away” hes messing with the band of your underwear, you know what he wants and not having to tell you twice you swiftly pull them down. his touch feeling rougher than usual, climbing on top of you he begins to message your inner thigh. inching it up to slide under your shirt, removing it so you’re completely naked

he cups one of your breasts, swirling his silky tongue around your sensitive nub making you squirm. “need it so bad” you say reaching down to feel his rock hard cock in your hand. your words making him groan , now stroking him thru his sweatpants.

he moves your hand away for a second to undress himself. cock slapping against his stomach when he takes off his boxers. he catches you staring, giving you a show by stroking it with his veiny hands he knows you love.

“god just fuck me” you pull him by the back of his neck into a deep kiss. angling your hips to align his dick, quickly wrapping your legs around him making it slide in.

a loud grunt coming from both of you, surprised at how you even managed to pull that off. “you make me so horny” his hands eager as they maneuver one of your legs over his shoulder, the other covering your mouth. hes drills into you not able to control himself anymore just hoping that he’s providing enough coverage so no one can hear.

“been thinking about this pretty pussy all day” he whimpers, muffled moans attempting to break their way past his hand but nothing is heard other than his desperate babbles of pleasure.

at this point he’s being louder then you are but you don’t bother trying to quiet him down. your back arches off the bed, legs shaking on the verge of cumming already but you try so hard to hold off because the way his v-line looks moving back and forth hitting the perfect angle with each sway of his hips and his gorgeous brown eyes looking down at you. you never want this to end.

“i need to hear you baby” he removes his hand from your mouth allowing you to whimper in his ear but that is quickly forgotten with a shift of his hips. feeling way deeper than before, low whimpers turn into loud abrupt moans.

“minho you’re so deep” looking down, you gasp at the sight of his cock bulging in your stomach everytime he pushes back in. you clench down hard , closing your eyes as the friction between you two becomes too much, curling forward as you cum. minhos pace not ceasing.

“oh baby i’m gonna cum” moving your other leg to put you in mating press. droplets of sweat trickling down his face, driving his cock so deep he comes to complete stop. you can feel him stuffing you full as he slumps over on top of you. orgasm so intense it takes him literal minutes to final catch his breath.

“do you think anyone heard” he lifts his body to look up at you. concern laced within his words.

“only one way to find out” you say searching for your clothes, looking somewhat decent before you both nervously step out of the room. making your way to the last place everyone was. ears meeting dead silence, you notice a sleeping changbin on the couch but no one else to be seen.

you both look at each other before high fiving

“nice” is whispered in sync as he escorts you to the kitchen for a late night snack.

….you were off the hook then but best believe you didn’t hear the end of it from chan (who was in the room right next to yours) in the morning.

#skz smut #skz scenarios #skz #lee know #lee minho #lee know smut #bangchan smut #bangchan #chan smut #stray kids smut #smut #tsumhal #bang chan #stray kids #stray kids fake texts #straykids texts

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Summary: Thanksgiving brings back memories of happier times, and all you want is to recreate the past. But when those plans go awry, Eddie--and Harris, of course--are there to help you look forward to the future.

Warnings: mentions of Eddie's parents, brief familial conflict, Reader's grandma has dementia, most of this chapter is fluffy tbh

WC: 6.8k

Chapter 8/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @vexed-n-hexed Divider credit to @saradika

Thanksgiving, 1975

The sound of the kitchen timer beeping draws nine-year-old Eddie Munson’s attention from the television set. The local news network had been replaying the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on a loop. It was now the third time that Eddie had watched Santa Claus make his way into Herald Square in a comically oversized sleigh, but he couldn’t get enough of it. The colorful balloons that hovered over the crowd, the marching bands playing in perfect unison, the feeling of excitement in the air—it was palpable all the way from his new home in Hawkins, Indiana. 

“Dinner’s ready,” Wayne announces, grabbing the worn mitt off of the counter and pulling two TV dinners from the oven. “‘S not much, but at least we got turkey and mashed potatoes,” he bashfully adds. 

Eddie nods, trying to walk without taking his eyes off of the screen. 

Wayne’s bushy brows pinch together as he watches his nephew. “You always get this into the parade?” he asks. 

“Never seen it before,” Eddie says softly. His parents had had a TV for a couple of years until they’d pawned it, but he doesn’t recall ever watching a parade. “Pretty cool.”

“We can keep it on while we eat, if ya want,” Wayne tells him, smiling when he sees the boy’s face light up. He places the plastic trays on the snack table and heads back to grab forks. “Ya got a favorite balloon? I’m partial to Snoopy, if y’ask me.”

Eddie nods, still transfixed on the TV. “Yeah, Snoopy’s good. I like him.” He takes the utensil from Wayne’s outstretched hand, absentmindedly dipping it in the congealed mashed potatoes. He pauses for a beat before bringing it to his lips. “Do I have to go back?”

“Hm?” Wayne mumbles, too focused on his own food to fully hear him. 

“Do I have to go back with them when they get out?” Eddie repeats, keeping his voice low and training his gaze on the floor. “‘Cause I like it better here. With you. ‘S nice and quiet.”

There’s a lurch in Wayne’s chest at Eddie’s request. “Technically, I only have ya till your folks are sprung,” he admits, scratching a nail against the table, “but I can talk to a lawyer or somethin’ about keeping you here longer. Only if you want,” he adds. 

“I wanna stay here,” Eddie confirms, spearing a pale turkey slice and popping it in his mouth without any attempt to cut it. “If it’s okay with you. I can sleep on the cot an’ you can take your bed back.”

Wayne shakes his head. “Room’s yours, Ed.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t wanna promise you that the courts will agree to it, but I’m gonna try my damndest to keep you safe.” And it’s true. He’ll work double overtime at the plant if it’ll cover legal fees. When the social worker dropped Eddie off last week, Wayne had no idea how either of them would adjust. But aside from a few growing pains—like having to shave his nephew’s head when they’d discovered he’d had lice—things seemed to be alright. 

“I, um, I wrote something at school yesterday,” Eddie pipes up, traipsing to his backpack and pulling out a sheet of paper. In his sloppy, boyish handwriting is written:

I am thankful for my Uncle Wayne because he takes care of me. He’s really nice and he works hard and he doesn’t mind that I listen to loud music. He also lets me feed my dinner scraps to the stray dogs in his trailer park. My Uncle Wayne is the best. I hope he’s thankful for me, too. 

Wayne feels his throat constrict, and he clears it before Eddie can catch on. “‘Course I’m thankful for ya, Ed,” he manages. He reaches out to put his hand on his nephew’s back, flinching when the boy jerks away nervously. Eddie’s reflex to defend himself rather than embrace touch stirs up a reserved anger Wayne didn’t know he had, and he wills himself to simmer down before his nephew can sense it, lest he think he’s angry at him.  

He slowly brings his hand to the couch cushion, careful not to make too much noise. We’ll get there, he thinks as the parade starts up for a fourth time. We’ll get there. 

Thanksgiving, 1978

Ten years old is a strange age. 

Too old to play with the little kids, but too young to hang around the teenagers or adults. You’re just kind of…there, like a piece of furniture that everyone absently walks around. This hiss of beer cans opening is barely audible over the men shouting at the football game on TV. You don’t know who’s playing, and you don’t really care, but it’s the only place you feel like you’ll be out of the way. Taking a seat on the floor, you remain there generally unnoticed until one of your uncles calls out your name.

“Couldja get me a refill?” Uncle Tim slurs, shaking his empty can of Bud Light to emphasize his request. Before you can respond, he throws a, “thanks, kid” and goes back to yelling at the football players.

It’s not like they can hear you through the screen, you snidely think, but you keep your comment to yourself as you pad into the kitchen. A collection of spices tickles your nose, the mixture of cloves and garlic and thyme and rosemary warming the room. You rummage through the refrigerator until you feel someone bump up against you.

“What are you doing in there?” Your aunt asks, disapproval carving her already sharp features. Her gaze drops to the can in your hand. “Seriously? Trying to sneak beer right in front of us?” she scoffs. 

Grandma quickly becomes aware of the commotion, and she wipes her hand on her sunny yellow apron as she assesses the situation. “Everything okay?” Her soft eyes are concerned, not accusing, and you feel your anxiety slowly dissipating.

“I caught her trying to steal some beer,” your aunt reports proudly, as though she’s caught some serial offender, and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Not even a teenager yet and already getting into this kind of trouble.” She shakes her head with a tsk. 

“No, I wasn’t,” you insist, setting your jaw in defiance. “Uncle Tim asked me to get some more for him. That’s all.”

“Tim!” Grandma calls out, tone thick with irritation. “Get over here!”

 Uncle Tim trudges out to the kitchen, head already hung low in anticipation of the tongue-lashing he’s about to receive. He may be a grown man, but his mother can easily put him in his place.

Grandma folds her arms across her chest. “Why are you having your niece fetch your drinks like a barmaid? Your legs broken or something?”

“No,” he mumbles, taking the beer from your hand and haphazardly tossing a “sorry” in your direction before returning to the game.

“C’mere,” Grandma beckons you, crooking her finger to join her at the counter. She’s got a bowl of Granny Smith apples, half of them peeled, their green skins piling on the cutting board in front of her. She hands you the peeler, picking up a sharp knife and cutting a peeled apple lengthwise and cubing each slice. “Help me out. It goes a lot faster when there’s two of us. And it’ll keep you out of trouble,” she adds with a wink.

You grab an unpeeled apple from the pile and drag the tool down its curve, repeating the motion until the inner fruit is exposed before starting on the next one. You and Grandma work in tandem; you peel and she chops in a comfortable silence. As you’re finishing up the last of the bunch, she leans over and whispers in your ear, “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re the best helper I’ve ever had.” She starts placing the cubed pieces into a pot, shaking the cinnamon container over it until she takes a satisfied step back, no measuring spoon required. “Mix it together for me?” 

You nod eagerly and pluck the wooden spoon from the canister behind the sink, dunking it into the pot and stirring until the apples are fully coated in cinnamon. “That good?” you ask, giving another stir for good measure.

“Perfect.” Grandma smiles, covering the mixture with water and setting it on an empty burner, twisting the knob until the coil turns red. “Once it softens up, you can mash it. Give these old arms a break,” she teases gently.

“You’re not old!” you protest, and she smacks a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you, kiddo,” she murmurs, voice muffled against your scalp. “To the moon and back.”

You wrap your arms around her waist and squeeze her tight. “I love you, too. To the moon and back.”

Thanksgiving, 1996

“Daddy, look! It’s Santa!” Harris points at the TV excitedly, bouncing up and down on the couch. He kicks his feet and squeals. “He’s gonna come to our house, right? An’ bring me presents?”

Eddie chuckles as he spreads mayonnaise on white bread, layering thin turkey slices on top. Three sandwiches for three Munsons. “I dunno, Har-Bear; have you been good this year?” 

Harris scrunches up his face in contemplation. “Um, I think so,” he answers honestly. “I can’t remember.”

“Hey, Wayne?” Eddie calls out as his uncle walks out of the bathroom. “Has Harris been good this year? I feel like he’s been a bit…mischievous.”

Wayne shakes his head. “My angel of a grandson? He’s never caused mischief a day in his little life!” He sits down next to Harris, letting out a small grunt as his bottom hits the sofa cushion. 

“Yeah! I never cause mischief a day in my little life!” Harris echoes confidently. He turns to his grandfather. “Grampa, what is Santa gonna bring you for Christmas?”

“A toupée,” Eddie says from the tiny kitchen, piling their plates with potato chips. Normally, he’d make sure there was a fruit or vegetable on there, but it’s a holiday. 

Wayne has to hold his tongue in front of the impressionable young boy, though he shoots Eddie an inconspicuous middle finger when he’s setting the plates on the coffee table. 

The three Munsons tuck into their sandwiches and crunch on the chips. This is how Thanksgiving has been since Eddie moved back with Harris: watching the parade followed by an early lunch so Wayne could pick up a shift at the plant. He always insisted on it, saying that the holiday pay helps offset the cost of Christmas presents. It was quiet, but nice, and Eddie couldn’t ask for anything else.

“Y’know,” Wayne says to Harris with a mouthful of sandwich, “the first time your Daddy watched the parade was with me. And now, we got to watch it with you.” He bumps his arm against Harris’s, making the boy giggle. 

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie muses, chomping on a potato chip thoughtfully as the memories flood back in. “Forgot about that. Is Snoopy still your favorite, Old Man?” 

Wayne considers this. “Hmm. Who’s our favorite balloon this year, Har?”

“Clifford!” Harris answers without missing a beat, kicking his little legs in excitement. Eddie should’ve known; the boy was damn near obsessed with dogs.

Once we can afford a house with a yard, I’m getting you that puppy, Har-Bear, he thinks, though he doesn’t dare make the promise aloud.

“Then that’s mine, too.” Wayne brushes the crumbs off of his lap, calloused hands scratching the worn denim of his jeans. There’s a twinkle in his eye as he adds, “I wonder what Ms. Sweetheart’s favorite balloon is.” He acts like he’s speaking to Harris, but Eddie knows it was aimed at him.

Harris claps his hands together gleefully. “I know! Let’s call her!” He turns to Eddie with the sweetest puppy-dog eyes the man has ever seen, lower lip jutted out exaggeratedly in the most precious pout. “Please, Daddy? Pleasepleasepleaseplease–”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says with a laugh, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Once you finish up lunch, we can call her.” Harris opens his mouth to protest that he wants to call right now, but Eddie cuts him off before he can start. “Ah ah; no whining, or we won’t call.”

Harris harrumphs but ultimately complies, taking another bite of his food. Wayne gives Eddie a small thumbs-up, and he preens slightly at the acknowledgment of his parenting win. They didn’t happen very often, and they rarely happened when someone was around to witness them. He takes a long gulp of water; as soon as he does, his son lifts his own cup to his lips and takes a sip. Another reminder that he’s watching, even subconsciously, wanting to be just like his dad.

For a split second, Eddie allows himself to believe that that might not be a bad thing.

“‘M done!” Harris chirps; sure enough, his plate is clean, save for the bread crusts. He squirms a bit in his seat, a gesture that Eddie has come to learn means only one thing.

“Go pee while I find her number,” Eddie tells him, purposely omitting the fact that he’s already committed those seven digits to memory. In case of an emergency, he thinks, and I don’t have the slip of paper on me.

Wayne can sense that his nephew isn’t being completely truthful; as soon as Harris closes the bathroom door behind him, he starts in with a shit-eating grin.

“Y’don’t need to find her number, do ya?”

Eddie flicks off an imaginary speck of dust on his shirts. “Knock it off, Wayne.” But he doesn’t move from his spot on the couch, further affirming his uncle’s point.

“Look, Ed,” Wayne exhales, adopting a more serious tone. “You clearly like this girl. I mean, all Harris did was say her name and you smiled–don’t give me that look,” he chastises lightly when Eddie rolls his eyes. “I know you two didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, but all that seems to be in the past now, right?”

“Guess so,” Eddie mumbles. “But not hating me doesn’t mean she’s into me. Maybe she’s only being nice to me because of Harris.”

The older Munson pauses, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks; his reflex when he’s deep in thought. “One date,” he challenges, holding up his forefinger to emphasize his point. “Ask her on one date, and see where it goes.”

“Fine,” Eddie relents, the nerves already churning in his stomach. You’d just found this good rhythm together, and he was going to risk messing it up. Again. “I’ll ask her. But on one condition.”

“Whas’ that?”

“Don’t say anything to Harris.” He crosses his arms over his chest when Wayne chuckles. “‘M serious, Wayne. I don’t want him getting his hopes up. For Chrissakes, I gave her a tape and the kid had us getting married.”

“Fair enough,” Wayne agrees, clamping his mouth shut when he sees the little boy enter the room. “You wash your hands?”

“Yep!”

“With soap?” he presses, narrowing his eyes.

Harris heaves an impatient sigh. “Yes! Can we call now?”

Both Wayne and Harris keep their eyes glued to Eddie as he punches in the numbers. When it starts ringing, he holds out the receiver to his son. “Say hi and your name when she picks up,” he reminds him, grateful for the opportunity to collect himself before asking you on a date. He takes a deep breath, shoving his hands in his pockets and gnawing on his lower lip so forcefully that he swears it might bleed.

You got this, Munson. The worst she can say is no.

But that’s not quite true, is it? The worst you can do is laugh in his face, leaving him a rejected mess. Scratch that–the worst you could do is accept the date, have him fall head over heels in love with you, then leave him in the dust to pick up the pieces while you move on with someone better. 

Maybe you won’t pick up the phone. Maybe he’ll have more time to–

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!”

It was a small thing. Miniscule, even. Just your meager attempt at reclaiming part of the past that had been lost to time and disease. A simple family recipe, apples boiled and mashed into a sauce that you’d hoped even vaguely resembled the way Grandma made it. A tiny cut on your fingertip serves as a battle wound from peeling, the sweet aroma of cinnamon still lingering in the kitchen.

You try to convince yourself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just applesauce. But the thought falls flat as you stare into the trash can. You can still see all of your work literally tossed away through the tears that blur your vision.

You’d left the room for two minutes, two goddamn minutes, and when you came back, the plastic pink bowl that held the applesauce was nowhere to be found. You could’ve sworn you left it on the counter, but maybe you’d already put it away? A quick scan of the refrigerator gave you nothing but a chill. Where the hell did it go? Were you losing your mind?

A rogue apple peel had fallen to the floor, and you scooped it up, flustered at how you could have misplaced an entire bowl of applesauce. Sure, it wasn’t as much as when you and Grandma made it for the whole family, but it was still a decent amount. Your foot presses the pedal that lifts the bin’s lid, and that’s when you see it.

“Grandma?” you choke out, looking over to where she’s sitting on the couch. She doesn’t respond, and you raise your voice a bit to grab her attention. “Grandma, why did you throw out the applesauce?”

Her empty gaze briefly flits over to where you’re standing, not even registering the burgeoning frustration and sadness coursing through your veins. “Wasn’t me,” she says flatly, scratching at the side of her nose with a jagged nail. Before dementia, her nails were always painted bright hues of red or blue; now, it was difficult enough to get her to leave the house for essential doctor’s appointments. You weren’t going to put up a fight trying to get her to the salon.

You know you should just close the lid and walk away instead of torturing yourself by continuing to look, but your feet are glued to the linoleum floor. A cold drop of something lands on your toes, and that’s when you realize that you’re crying. Crying over goddamn applesauce.

All you wanted was some semblance of normalcy, something reminiscent of life before Grandma got sick and your family still felt whole. But what you got was a thickening realization that you can’t relive the past, no matter how hard you try.

The ringing phone startles you from your wallowing. You have half a mind to ignore it, but you know that Grandma will just grumble about how she hates the sound of it, so you pick up the receiver and answer with a shaky, “H-Hello?”

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!” A little voice chirps through the other end. You can hear Eddie mumbling something, though you can’t quite make out what he’s saying. “Happy Thanksgiving! What’s your favorite balloon?” There’s more hushed speaking from Eddie, and Harris huffs out, “Daddy, stop! I know what to say!” 

“My favorite balloon from the parade?” you ask, biting back a giggle. 

“Mhm! I like Clifford,” he tells you.

You’d kept the parade on in the background, catching glimpses of it every now and again. Shit, what balloons did you see? “Clifford’s a good one,” you agree, “but I think the Rocky and Bullwinkle one was my favorite.”

Harris laughs so loudly that you have to pull the phone from your ear. “The squirrel and the moose?” he guffaws. “Ms. Sweetheart, that’s so silly!” You’re about to ask him how his holiday is going when he says, “Hold on, my daddy wants to talk to you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of talking to Eddie, and you wipe the tears from your wet cheeks as though he’ll be able to see them through the phone.

“Hey, Happy Thanksgiving!” he says. Something resembling trepidation tinges his tone, though you’re not sure why. Could he still be anxious to approach you after he confided in you at the parent-teacher conference? After he’d watched you panic when Grandma locked herself in her room?

You swallow, trying to choke down the sadness rising within you. “Yeah, y-you, too.” Despite your best efforts, your voice breaks on the last word, and you hope Eddie doesn’t catch it.

But of course he does.

“You okay?” he asks with a nervous chuckle. “‘Cause it kinda sounds like you’re crying.”

“‘M fine. Just, um, chopping onions,” you lie, hoping you’ve done a convincing job.

“For the…applesauce you’re making?” Eddie sees right through you; you’d forgotten that you’d told him and Harris about your plan during your weekly post-tutoring dinner last night. “Not gonna lie, that sounds even nastier than olives on pizza.”

You manage a laugh, but it’s disfigured by the catch in your throat. “The applesauce was a bust, unfortunately,” you admit. “I left the kitchen for a second and Grandma chucked it in the trash.”

“All of it?” he asks incredulously, letting out a deep exhale when you confirm that she did, in fact, throw out the entire bowl. “Jesus H. I’m so sorry. Is that what’s got you upset?”

“Mhm. I know it’s stupid, ‘s just applesauce, but–”

“‘S not stupid,” Eddie interrupts softly, and you twist the phone cord around your pointer finger with the sudden drop of his tone. “I know you were really looking forward to it.” He pauses, and you wonder for a moment if the line’s gone dead before he says, “We’re coming over. Me and Harris. Be there in twenty; fifteen, if I don’t have to argue with him about wearing a jacket.”

Before you can protest, he really does hang up. You look down at the baggy sweats and college t-shirt you’re wearing; you weren’t expecting any guests today, let alone the Munson boys. You should probably throw on some actual pants, and a bit of mascara couldn’t hurt, either.

You find a pair of jeans that aren’t buried under a mountain of laundry and tug them over your thighs before quickly swiping some makeup on your face. It’s enough to mask your exhaustion while still looking natural.

It dawns on you that you’re not quite sure why you suddenly care so much about your appearance. Harris couldn’t care less, and Eddie…well, even if Eddie did care, why would that matter to you? He’s your tutee’s parent; a new friend at most. On more than one occasion, you’ve answered the door to Jess with a wicked case of bedhead. Why does Eddie Munson of all people make you feel the need to look halfway decent?

When the buzzer sounds, you nearly jump out of your own skin. “It’s us,” Eddie says into the speaker; the smoothness of his voice has your stomach in knots. “And we come bearing gifts. Well, one gift, I guess.”

“Fuck off,” Grandma mumbles from the couch, cranking up the TV volume to an ungodly loud level. One of the Law & Order detectives says–no, screams–something about a murder, and you quickly reach for the remote and click the power button.

“We have company,” you tell her, and she just grunts in response. Hopefully her mood will change in the minute it will take Eddie and Harris to get to your apartment. You can hear them down the hallway, so you open the door just as they’re about to knock.

Eddie takes a step back in surprise. “You psychic or somethin’?” he laughs, looking down at his son and giving him a small nudge. “Go ahead, you can give it to her.”

Your gaze drops to the curly-haired boy standing by his father’s side. He’s holding a brightly colored package of off-brand Oreos, which he brings closer to his chest, pressing it tightly against his zippered sweatshirt. “It’s s’posed to be a surprise,” he reminds Eddie, wide-eyed with genuine concern.

“Only until we got here,” Eddie says gently, soft brown eyes encouraging Harris to hand you the cookies. He brings his attention back to you. “I know it’s not the same as making applesauce with your grandma, but I’ve never been sad eating an Oreo. An oatmeal raisin cookie, maybe. But not an Oreo.”

Now it’s your turn to smile. “You may be onto something here, Munson.” You take the package from Harris and guide the two of them to the kitchen, calling out to Grandma as you pass by. “Grandma, Eddie and Harris are here, and they brought cookies, if you wanna join us.” Her non-response is familiar at this point; the sting is much easier to brush off than it was a few short months ago. But you still feel it.

Even though Grandma isn’t at the table, Harris still climbs onto his dad’s lap. “Daddy, can I have one?” he asks, resting his dimpled chin on his palms as he glances upwards.

“Gotta ask Ms. Sweetheart,” Eddie shrugs, tickling Harris’s ribs and loudly whispering, “and ask her if your poor, hungry dad can have one, too. She can’t say no to you.”

You open the package and shake your head at his antics, sliding out the flimsy tray and offering it to them. “Of course you can have one, Harris,” you say, tone saccharine sweet. His chubby fingers darting out and snatching up a cookie before you even finish your sentence. “But I don’t know about your dad. Do you think he should get one?”

“C’mon, Har,” Eddie urges him, “us men gotta stick together. All for one and one for all, right?” He flexes his bicep; it’s an attempt to emphasize the manliness that supposedly bonds him and Harris, but the gesture has your breath catching in your throat. You sputter and cough embarrassingly, excusing yourself to pour a glass of water. 

“Anyone else want?” you manage once you can speak again, holding up the ceramic pitcher. 

Eddie nods, lifting Harris from his lap and placing him on the nearest empty chair. “Here, let me help you.” He stands up and calls out over his shoulder, “Grandma, how about some water?”

You’re about to tell him not to worry about it, but to your surprise, she nods. “Ya.”

“So, four waters,” Eddie reports, taking the pitcher and refilling your glass. 

You grab another just like it from the cabinet before taking two blue disposable ones, plopping a bendy straw in each. “Grandma, um, she needs stuff that isn’t breakable,” you explain lamely. “And the other plastic one is for Harris.”

Eddie grins. “Thought it was for me. Y’know, always making a mess.”

“Ah, but only of your life,” you tease. “You’re pretty good with basic human functions.” Your face burns at what you’ve potentially implied, but Eddie isn’t fazed. 

“Y’know what? I’m gonna take my cookies back!” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest in mock-indignance. A piece of curly hair sticks to his lower lip with his sudden movement, and you brush it away with your thumb before you can stop yourself. 

The crinkling of the fake-Oreo package draws both of your gazes, with Eddie poised to tell Harris that he’s only allowed one more. But to your surprise—and perhaps Eddie’s, too—Harris isn’t the one rifling through the tray. Grandma’s taken a seat next to the boy, handing him a cookie before taking her own. She just nibbles on it in silence, but it’s the most present she’s been in days. 

“Y’like Oreos, Grandma?” Eddie asks, pouring water into the two plastic glasses and carrying one in each ringed hand. He places them on the table, and Grandma brings the straw to her lips as she nods again. He pauses for a moment, lips tucked into his mouth as he ponders something. “What kind of music does she listen to?” he asks you. 

“She has a record collection over in the living room,” you tell him, pointing to the low bookshelf near the door, “but we haven’t played any in awhile. She’s kinda…weird with noises.”

He considers this, walking over to the records and thumbing through them until he finds one that he recognizes. “Could I put this one on?” He holds up the battered copy of Frank Sinatra’s It Might As Well Be Swing. “I’ll take it off if she gets upset. I just wanna try something.” He carefully slides the record from its sleeve, lifting the player’s needle and placing it on the space for the first track. 

There’s a soft static as the record starts to spin, and Ol’ Blue Eyes croons: 

Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like

On a-Jupiter and Mars

Eddie joins in with the next part. His voice still carries its signature rasp, but it’s noticeably smoother, warmer than the night he’d dedicated the Def Leppard song to you. 

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, baby, kiss me

His eyes remain trained on the record player, but you swear you can feel the lyrics drifting towards you. The melody wraps around you like a hug, and you momentarily lose yourself in a musical embrace. 

Another voice, low and timid, chimes in. You have to stifle a gasp when you realize that it’s Grandma, her lips curling into the smallest of smiles–the most joy she’s shown in a long while–as she half-sings the words. 

Fill my heart with song

And let me sing for ever more

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, and before you can exhale the third syllable, the world shifts back to normal. Grandma goes back to mindlessly munching on her cookie as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. You turn to Eddie. “What was that?”

He shrugs, suddenly feeling shy. “I read somewhere that music can, like, bring back some memories. Not permanently or anything, but I figured it was worth a shot.”

You can’t stop yourself from flinging your arms around Eddie’s neck, nearly knocking him over in the process. He pauses before he returns the gesture, pulling you tightly into him. One hand is on the small of your back; the other gently rests on the back of your head, allowing you to rest your forehead on his chest. Your tears flow freely, leaving tiny wet spots on his shirt. He doesn’t let go until you start to pull back. 

“Thank you,” you whisper; when he pinches his brows in confusion, you elaborate. “You gave me back a little piece of who she was before…” you trail off, swiping at your cheeks messily. “Just…thank you.”

Eddie nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes are practically glued to your lips; this time, when his fingers brush against your palm, he hooks his pinky with yours. “‘Course,” he murmurs.

You’re not sure how long the two of you remain linked like this, joined hands swaying ever-so-slightly as Fly Me to the Moon fades out to I Wish You Love. It’s somewhere between ten seconds and ten years, because time seemingly slows to a halt. 

You might stay with pinkies hooked forever if Harris doesn’t bolt from his chair, hugging your waist and looking up at you with concern. 

“Ms. Sweetheart?” he asks. His wide, misty eyes indicate that he’s absorbed some of the emotion in the room, though he may not even be aware of this. “Why are you sad?” His chubby fingers grab onto the fabric of your pants.

You choke out a tearful laugh as you crouch down to meet him at his level. “I’m not sad…well, I’m sad and happy at the same time,” you try to explain, shaking your head when you realize you’re only adding to his puzzlement. ��Grown-up feelings are weird sometimes, Har. But your hugs definitely help.”

With that, he squeezes you tighter, and you glance at Eddie with a full heart. He takes a step forward, scooping up Harris. You worry that you’ve crossed a line, that you’ve shown too much of your vulnerability to a four-year-old, but your fears are subdued when Eddie extends one arm and brings you back to both him and his son. Something brushes against your scalp, and you realize that he’s pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. 

Harris squirms, and when Eddie puts him down, he runs over to the TV set. “Can I watch something?” It’s clear that the moment has passed, and Eddie throws you an apologetic shrug as he waits for your response.

“Sure,” you say, trying to pepper cheerfulness into your voice. It’s easier now that the wave of loneliness has passed, taking with it some of the mourning you’d clung to earlier today. You click on the TV and flip through channels until a familiar cartoon appears on the screen. “I think we’re just in time to watch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving!” you exclaim, and Harris mirrors your enthusiasm by flinging himself onto the couch, making his dad cringe.

“Careful, little dude,” Eddie says, clicking off the record player and gently placing the vinyl back in its sleeve. “You just got that cast off a few days ago. Don’t need you to break another bone.” Certainly don’t need another hospital bill, he thinks bitterly. He takes the spot next to Harris, silently begging you to join them. 

You turn to the kitchen table and put a hand on Grandma’s shoulder. “You wanna watch Charlie Brown with us?” But she rejects your invitation with a simple shake of her head, mumbling something about being tired and padding into her room. 

You take the empty space to Harris’s left so that the boy is sandwiched between you and his father. He’s a small kid, but it seems like there’s an entire ocean separating you and Eddie. 

“Why’s Lucy so mean?” Harris asks no one in particular. “She’s always yelling. Like Ms. Marion.” You have to stifle a giggle at that observation, and when you allow yourself a glance, you see that Eddie’s doing the same. 

The first half of the movie is filled with Harris’s constant commentary; he speaks more than all of the cartoon characters combined. But he tires out eventually, though in typical four-year-old fashion, he denies his sleepiness even as he’s yawning. He fights it pretty well, you’ve got to give him credit where it’s due, but eventually, the exhaustion takes over and he lays his head on your arm. His curls tickle your elbow, and you gingerly reposition him so he’s tucked up against your side. 

“You can move him over, if you get uncomfortable or somethin’. Kid sleeps like a rock. Except, y’know, when I need him to sleep.” Eddie snickers as Harris lets out the softest, tiniest snore. 

You return the laughter and shake your head. “Nah, I’m good,” you reassure him, smiling at the ruddy cheek pressed against you. “Don’t tell my other students, but Harris is the cutest kid ever.”

Eddie shrugs, but you can tell that the compliment tickles him. “Well, it makes sense, since his dad is a total stud.” He waggles his eyebrows before turning his attention back to Charlie and Lucy. You’re not quite sure how to respond to that; if you play it off as a joke, you risk hurting his feelings. If you tell him the truth–

“D’you like coffee?”

His sudden, seemingly arbitrary question snaps you from your indecision. “I teach four-year-olds,” you reply lightheartedly, hoping he can’t sense your mind continuing to linger on his stud comment. “I practically have coffee running through my veins. What about you?”

“I have a four-year-old, so, same.” He clears his throat, seemingly double-checking that his son is still sound asleep. His leg is bouncing up and down, and he nearly has to press on his knee to get it to stop. “Um, Harris is going to a birthday party next Saturday morning if you wanted to get some with me? Get some coffee, I mean.” He silently chastises himself, wondering if he’d ever been suave around women or if it had just been the unearned confidence of a young man in his early twenties convincing him that he had. 

“Like...like a date?” Fuck, do you sound too eager? “Because if you feel like you owe me a date after…after our night at the bar, you don’t have to. I forgave you after you gave me those M&Ms, remember?”

“Yeah…wait, no. Hold on.” Eddie holds up his pointer finger as he collects his thoughts. He could deny that it’s a date altogether and throw out some bullshit lie about it just being something between friends. But he promised Wayne, promised himself that he’d give this a shot.  “Yes, I’m asking you on a date. No, it’s not because I feel like I owe you one–although I definitely do,” he adds with a goofy grin that sends flutters to your stomach. “It’s because, fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and how happy you make me–and Harris, too–and how I get kinda nervous around you, which makes no sense because you’re, like, the nicest fuckin’ person ever. Oh my God, why can’t I stop talking?”

“Eddie.” The way you say his name is like a song he could replay forever. “I’d really like to get coffee with you. I just need to see if someone can watch Grandma…maybe Jess,” you surmise, biting back the fact that you’ll have to withhold your date’s name, lest she subject you to a lecture about sleeping with the enemy.

Eddie nods, swiping the tip of his tongue over his lower lip and smiling. “I can pick you up at noon? If Jess can watch Grandma, of course.”

“Noon works.” You want to kiss him right then and there; if Harris wasn’t nestled in the middle of you both, you might not hold back. “I can let you know on Wednesday when we have dinner together.”

Eddie’s not sure he can wait that long for an answer. What if you’re just buying time to get out of it? What if you’re only being nice to him because you’re afraid that he’ll get angry again and reignite the bitter feud you’d been locked in just a month ago? He swallows the insecurities, gaze flickering to your eyes.

And maybe it’s because you can sense his unease and self-doubt, or maybe it’s because you genuinely want to–Eddie doesn’t know for sure–but he feels you lace your fingers with his, resting your joined hands on his thigh. He shifts his grasp to weave them tighter together, learning back into the couch and allowing his body to relax. His shoulders let go of tension he hadn’t realized he was holding on to, and a contented sigh slips from his lips.

It’s you, him, and Harris. Sitting on the sofa and watching a holiday movie. An unconventional little family, but a family all the same. Eddie swears that he could stay like this forever, a thought that almost has him bursting out in laughter. The same man who had concocted an elaborate method to keep women around without actually committing to them was now reveling in domestic bliss. 

When the movie ends and Harris begins to rouse, Eddie begrudgingly stands with an exaggerated groan. “These old bones, y’know,” he laments with a mischievous click of his tongue. “Everything starts fallin’ apart when you turn thirty.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, lifting Harris onto his hip and rubbing his back to help him fall back to sleep. “I know.” He grabs his keys from the shelf near the door as you walk them out. And before he can wimp out, he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss, stubble scratching against your skin. His hands are trembling when he pulls away.

“You’re the best,” he repeats the same statement he’d made on parent-teacher conference night. It’s even more true now than it was then. “We’ll see you on Wednesday for pizza?” And an answer, hopefully a ‘yes.’ “Wednesday,” you echo, still processing the fact that, for the second time today, Eddie Munson’s lips have been on you.

--

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

[octoberclidan]

Needing You

Request: With absolutely no pressure, could I request some comfort for our sweet (and vulnerable) Dean? Something very soft and gentle? 💚

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Story:

Dean didn't wait for either Sam or [Y/N]. As soon as he'd turned off the engine, he was out of the car and marching towards their motel room. He didn't take his bag, he didn't look at either of them, he didn't say anything, he just left. Everything that could've gone wrong on the hunt, had gone wrong. Nothing about their day had gone well. It had been a cold, dark, rainy day since the moment they'd woken up. Dean had been captured by a witch, his absolute least favourite thing to hunt, and it had taken Sam and [Y/N] all day to find him. While he'd been magically held against a wall in the witch's home, he watched two of her victims die. He couldn't physically do anything, and there was nothing he could say to stop her. He was to be her third victim, but right before she cut his neck, Sam had burst into the room and the witch disappeared. Dean had fallen to the ground, and had pushed both Sam and [Y/N] away when they tried to help him up.

[Y/N]'s view of Dean marching to their motel room was obscured by the raindrops rolling down the car's window. She hadn't tried to talk to him the entire ride back; she knew better after Dean had snapped at Sam just for clearing his throat. She sighed, and was about to open her door when Sam turned around in his seat to look at her. "He'll be okay. He'll punch something, get drunk, and sleep it off. We'll be back on the hunt in the morning". He cringed slightly when he heard the door to their room slam. "I think we should probably see about getting a second room and giving him some space tonight".

"Do you think he'll be okay on his own? I've seen him beating himself up after hunts before, but I've never seen him like this", she said. [Y/N] had a deep level of concern and care for Dean. She loved both Winchesters, she'd do anything for either of them, and she hated seeing them upset. Sam sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"He won't let himself lose control, we still have to find the witch. He'll be good by the morning". He finally opened his door, the wind blowing some rain into the car. "Wait here until I get us a room, I'll be back in a few minutes". [Y/N] watched as he pulled his jacket up over his head and quickly got out of the car, closing his door behind him and jogging over to the motel's reception. She felt a bit uneasy leaving Dean alone when he was probably in there breaking something and hating himself, but she knew that no one knew him and what he needed better than Sam.

The door to the reception opened and it caught her eyes, she saw Sam jogging back to the car. She grabbed her bag from beside her as Sam opened up the trunk to grab his own, and they quickly ran through the parking lot to get to their new room, which happened to be the one right next to Dean's. Sam opened the door and ushered [Y/N] inside, and she shivered as droplets of rain water fell from her hair. "You wanna take the first shower?" Sam asked as he put his bag down on the desk beside the window, and [Y/N] nodded.

"Yeah, I'll make it quick", she said and made her way into the bathroom, taking her bag with her. The water wasn't exactly hot, but it did warm her up a little bit. She couldn't keep her thoughts from wondering to Dean, thinking about what must be going through his head and what he was up to in the other room. She began to grow even more worried as she turned off the shower and started to pull on the old comfortable clothes she kept for sleeping in; one of Dean's old band t-shirts, and some very well worn sweatpants. What if he decided to go to a bar? Dean had no issues with driving after drinking on an ordinary day, but what if he tried to drive home after drinking too much in the dark and rain?

Once she was dressed, she opened the bathroom door. Sam was sitting on one of the beds and looked up at her as she walked out. "Shower's all yours, just a warning though, the water's not hot", she said as she made her way over to the other bed.

"Noted", Sam sighed as he pushed himself off the bed to go get his clothes and toiletries. "Are you okay?" He asked before he went in.

"Yeah, just worried I guess", she shrugged. He nodded in understanding as he closed the bathroom door behind him. She heard the shower turn on, and she decided to pull out her journal to make notes on the hunt. She'd only just sat down on a bed and opened her journal when she heard a crash behind her head, and she spun around on the bed to look at the wall behind her. A few seconds later, and there was a bang on the wall, shaking it along with her bed frame. Dean. Without stopping to think, she tossed her journal down beside her and shot out of bed. She scribbled down a quick note for Sam on a little post-it that was on the desk, and headed straight out of the room.

Although the corridor outside the room had a cover over it, the floor was still wet from the rain being blown onto it from the wind. The wind and rain hit her immediately and she ran to the next door, banging on it and hoping Dean wouldn't take too long to let her in, hoping he hadn't injured himself, hoping he could let her in. When ten seconds went by without any answer, she banged on the door again. "Damnit Dean, let me in! I'm getting soaked out here!" She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her bare arms as she stood there being attacked by the weather, her clothes having no waterproof capabilities.

The door opened slightly and she looked up to find a red-eyed Dean. He looked her up and down before sighing and opening the door wide enough to let her in. She slipped inside and kept her arms around herself as she waited for him to close the door and turn to face her. "What are you doing in here?" He mumbled as he kept his head down and walked past her to his bed. He sat down on the edge of it, and she noticed that his knuckles were bloody as he held his hands on his lap.

"Will you let me look at those?" She asked, walking over to him. He pulled his hands back as she reached down for them, but she insisted. He didn't put up a fight as she held his hands in hers and lifted them up to look at them. "I'm going to clean them and wrap them".

"They're fine".

"Dean", she sighed. "They're not fine, and you're not fine either. You can talk about it with me if you want to, or you can sit there in silence, but either way, I'm taking care of these hands". She gently squeezed them before placing them back in his lap. She looked around the room before remembering that Dean hadn't taken his bag in from the car. "Just... wait here, don't move, I'll be back in less than a minute". He didn't say anything and he didn't look up at her as she quickly left the room.

She ran through the rain back to the other room and let herself in to find Sam sitting on his bed reading through a book. "How is he?" He asked, leaning forward with his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"He's Dean", she sighed, looking through her bag for her first aid kit.

"You gonna bring a coat this time?" He asked as she went to open the door again. She paused and nodded.

"Good idea", she chuckled as she grabbed her jacket, holding it over her head. "I'm not sure when I'll be back... if I can get him to open up maybe I'll just stay with him, are you good here?"

"Good luck, yeah I'm fine, just let me know if you need anything", he smiled at her. He knew Dean was in safe hands with [Y/N]. Although he knew Dean better than anyone, he also knew that if anyone could get him to open up and hate himself a little less, it would be her.

Dean was waiting for [Y/N] this time with the door open, not wanting her to stand out in the rain any longer than needed. She smiled at him in thanks as he held the door open for her, and he caught himself smiling back. He could feel his anger start to dissipate, and he cursed her in his mind for having that effect on him. He felt like he deserved to feel bad, he felt like he didn't deserve to be smiling. "Okay, sit on the bed so I can clean those hands up", she said as she grabbed a chair.

"I can do it myself".

"No you can't, I've seen you doing it yourself and you're shit at it, now sit", she placed the first aid kit down on the bed and put her hands on her hips, waiting for him to shake his head and follow her instructions like he always ended up doing. He sat down and she pulled the chair closer so she could sit opposite him, their knees touching. She grabbed one of his hands and pulled out an antiseptic wipe to start to clean it. He hissed at the initial sting, but it soon went away. She held his hand in one hand, stroking her thumb up and down soothingly, while she wiped his knuckles with her other. She lifted his hand closer to her face to inspect it, and then threw the wipe away and took out some gauze.

"It's not bad enough to need that stuff", Dean protested, but one glare from her and he stopped, letting her gently wrap his hand. She placed it on his lap as he took his other hand, which wasn't as bad, but he knew she'd insist on wrapping it too anyway. He looked into her face as she worked on his second hand, noticing how she stuck her tongue out slightly between her teeth in concentration. He'd never known anyone so beautiful, inside and out, and he didn't know how he was lucky enough to have her as a constant in his life.

"There, all done", she smiled as she let go of his hand and packed away her supplies. When she looked back at Dean, he was looking down at his hands, and a tear fell from his eye to darken a little spot on his bandage. "Hey, what's going on inside that head of yours?" She asked, gently covering his hand with hers. He shook his head and sniffed, looking away from her. "Come on, talk to me, I'm right here", she lifted her hand to touch his cheek, slowly turning his face back to her.

"I was useless today", he said.

"Dean-", she sighed but he cut her off and took his hand back from her, standing up abruptly and forcing her back a little so he could walk away. She stared at him as he started to pace up and down the room. "Dean-", she tried again, but he stopped and glared at her through teary eyes.

"Don't 'Dean' me, okay? I fucked up. I let my guard down, got caught by a fucking witch and watched two people die, knowing I couldn't do shit but wait to be rescued. I'm supposed to save people, I'm not supposed to need saving".

"Dean, how many times have you saved me? Or Sam? Does that make either of us less of a hunter? Does that make either of useless?"

"No, but it's different".

"How exactly is it different? Why can't Dean Winchester need saving sometimes? You're not invincible Dean, you're human. Shit happens. Sometimes everyone needs a little saving. Sometimes you can't save everyone, no matter how good you are". She stood up and walked over to him, looking up at him. He turned his face away from her, but she reached up tentatively to put her hand on his cheek. He didn't resist when she turned his face to look down at her, and once he looked into her eyes, he broke. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, burying his face in her neck as he started to cry quietly. She wrapped her arms around his waist and stood there in his embrace, letting him get his emotions out. She was almost afraid to make any movement or say anything, in case it pulled him out of his vulnerability, but after a few minutes she leaned back slightly and looked up at him.

He blinked through his tears and sniffed, then frowned at her. "You're damp", he mumbled, and she couldn't help but laugh quietly.

"Yeah, it's raining".

"I'm sorry".

"For what?" She asked, rubbing his back gently.

"Being like this", he shrugged, "crying and punching things and..." He shook his head as if trying to get rid of his train of thought.

"And what?" She prompted him, tilting her head in curiosity. He paused in contemplation for a moment, glancing between her eyes, feeling comfort when all he saw was sincerity looking back at him. His hands fell to her waist and he held her firmly, pulling her back in closer to his chest.

"And needing you".

He was finally opening up to her, and she sighed in relief, knowing this meant he'd be okay. "I will always be here for you, Dean", she said.

"Is it okay?" He asked, looking down at her, his face suddenly full of worry. "Is it okay that I need you?"

"Dean", she said, moving her hands up to cup his cheeks, her thumbs wiping his tears away. "We all need each other. Sam and I need you, just like you and I need Sam".

"Like Sam and I need you", he nodded, and his hands left her waist to hold her arms, gently squeezing them as if to confirm to himself that she was real, and that she was standing in front of him in that moment. "You're shivering", he noted, "I'll get you some dry clothes". He pulled away from her and went to his bag, routing around and pulling out one of his clean flannels and a pair of sweatpants and handing them to her. "Can you... I mean", he cleared his throat nervously. "If you want to, you can stay in this room tonight. I don't think you should go back out into the rain".

"Is it okay with you if I stay here?" She smiled back at him.

"Yes", he said quickly. "I need you tonight... just uh, you make me feel calm, it's like I struggle to feel angry around you", he chuckled softly.

"You have a similar effect on me".

"Really?"

"Dean, your hugs make everything better".

"Come here", he reached his arm out to her and she put the clothes down onto the bed before going to him and being engulfed in his arms again. He held her tightly this time and she smiled as he kissed the top of her head. "You're still damp", he chuckled, and she felt the vibrations from his chest on the side of her face.

"I don't care", she squeezed him back and closed her eyes, hoping they'd somehow end up sharing a bed so she could stay in his arms for the night. She knew he was going to be okay, and that's all she needed in that moment.

The end

Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @itburnslikehelltobevega @queenie32 @livingdead-reilly @vmaier12 @littlemadamred @darthysfanfic @dramatic-long-coats

#supernatural #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfic #sam winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean angst #angry dean #dean winchester supernatural #dean fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester comfort #dean comfort #supernatural comfort #spn comfort #spn fic #spn reader insert #spn #vulnerable dean winchester #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction

[webslingingslasher]

can u tell us more ab peters first time? or is that a secret😢

how about his first kiss? :’))))

peter's first time will be in the cherry series. (described)

first kiss? yeah, i gotchu.

your fingers tap on peter's skin, his chest is slightly sticky from dried sweat. 'when did you have your first kiss?'

his thumbs graze down your arms, 'first kiss or first real kiss?' you lightly kiss his bicep, 'both?' peter takes a deep breath as he retells the story, you close your eyes and try to picture it yourself.

'i was in the fifth grade and i had this wicked crush on julie thompson. somehow her friends found out and told her and she met me at the bus stop after school, and i thought i was hot shit because her dad always picked her up- but she told me that she could 'obviously' never date me-'

julie thompson was a fifth grader and you'd beat her ass.

'but she was very flattered and said she had something for me. she told me to close my eyes and i was expecting like a note or something but nope, she kissed me.' you can hear the smile in his voice when he says it. you don't blame him, it's a mostly cute story and it's juvenile.

'then she told me that i would always be her first kiss but i could never tell anybody. i never did. well, until right now. and my first real kiss was in high school, her name was lauren gravy- yes, i said gravy- and she was in the marching band. she asked if i wanted to see something she learned at bandcamp over the summer and i said sure and she fucking stuck her tongue down my throat. i was so scared.'

'you were scared?' you can't help the small fit of laughter. peter clicks his tongue, 'no, c'mere.' peter not so nicely cups your face and tugs it to his, 'wanna see something i learned at band camp?' he's reenacting it.

'sure.' you make a muffled scream and smack his shoulder, he's not exaggerating, it is scary. 'yeah, not so funny now, is it?'

'was she at least hot?'

peter nods confidently. 'fucking smoke show. but i never went around her again. i hope she got better at it.' well, if all he had to go off of was a pity kiss and a slobbery one he became pretty damn good at it.

'how'd you get so good at kissing?'

peter snorts, 'cause i had a girlfr-' peter catches himself, 'cause i had a girl teach me. some other girl from high school, nothing important.'

'my first kiss was brad allen and he was missing a front tooth. he ditched me on our first date for a pig farmers daughter.'

'that's so bold of you to share. you wouldn't be able to boil that information out of me.'

'he lost it playing lacrosse but his dad was a dentist so i don't know why he never got it fixed.' peter pushes your head back down to his chest. 'i think we should take a nap.'

'if you lost a front tooth i'd still kiss you.'

'can't hear you. i'm sleeping.' 

#frat!peter drabbles

[inez-winchester-cameron]

Run. (18+)

↠Pairing: Soulless!Sam x Reader x Demon!Dean (mentioned Crowley x Reader)

↠Summary: After running into a dark room, you end up in the hands of the Winchesters, one soulless and one a demon (SMUT, WC:3,490)

↠Cw: Threesome, dub-con, rough sex, choking, nipple pinching/twisting, pussy/face/thigh slapping, blindfolding, oral, throat-fucking, squirting, unprotected sex, roleplay, tying up, degradation, hair pulling, cum in places it shouldn’t be, arousal from crying, just very rough sex

↠Notes: I made a vote the other night abt what fic you guys wanted next and this won :) I’ll probably end up doing the other two at some point but this is what ya’ll get for now. Hopefully this makes up for my lack of uploads. Apologies, I’m a loser band kid and have marching band things to do and those tire me the fuck out. Anyways, I quite literally soaked my shorts writing this so hopefully yall enjoy this as much as I did :)

-

Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before, you could feel it in your head, your stomach, everywhere. Your breathing came out panicked, after running across the bunker. Your legs could only carry you so far before you stopped, looking around to make sure you weren’t followed. Slowly, after making sure they weren’t behind you, you turned the handle on the door and stepped in, backwards. 

You were being chased by none other than the Winchester brothers, one soulless and the other a demon. Unfortunately, you hadn’t realized until it was too late and they had you right where they wanted you. You were caged in, no matter where you ran in the bunker they could get to you. You knew you were only delaying the inevitable, they would find you and kill you, for fun. You stepped backwards into the room, slamming the door. You let out a sigh of relief and began looking for the light switch but you ran into something. Someone. 

You let out a gasp as you felt a warm tall body, and then the room filled with the deep chuckle of your ‘boyfriend’, Sam Winchester, “Hey baby.” But he wasn’t your Sammy anymore, he had no soul. He took it upon himself to switch the light on and you were met with his sinister smirk. You gasped again and walked backwards but once again you ran into a warm body. This time, arms wrapped around you and you instantly knew they were the arms of Dean Winchester.

“Did you really think you could run from us?” Dean whispered lowly into your ear. You let out a small whimper, as tears filled your eyes. There was nothing you could do. 

Sam chuckled at the look on your face and moved closer, ignoring your flinch when he cupped your face, “Aw, baby, we’re not gonna hurt you.” He gently stroked your cheeks.

“He’s right, princess, we have other plans for you,” Dean adds on.

“O-other plans..?” You stutter out.

“Oh yeah, baby, you were bad,” Sam says, still stroking your cheeks, “We’ve gotta punish you.”

Dean let go of you and walked over to the closet. You soon realized it was Dean’s room that you had stumbled into and attempted to hide in. Dean approached the closet, opening it. You couldn’t see him as Sam made you look at him but you could hear Dean russling around in his closet. Eventually he pulled out a box. He approached his bed and pulled out two ropes. He looked to his brother, “Undress her.”

Sam smirked and turned to you, “Just hold still, baby, okay? Make it easy on me.” You whimpered and shook your head and Sam’s eyes got darker, “I said hold fucking still. Do you wanna be hurt? Cause I’ll hurt you, baby.” You whimpered again but held yourself straight. Even though the situation wasn’t ideal, you had to admit, you were kind of into it. Sam undressed you until you were nude and exposed to everyone in the room. This wasn’t a new thing to Sam, you two had sex a decent amount, but the soulless and Dean part was all new. Dean smirked at the view of your backside he got. A whistle left his lips and your face got warm.

“Sammy, your girl’s so pretty. You should share her more often,” Dean said, with a smirk. Sam just chuckled in response.

“Get on the bed,” Sam pushed you forward and you quickly got on the bed, on your back. You didn’t want him hurting you. Dean smirked at the sight of you.

“Fuck, Sammy,” he mumbled, “If I was you I’d be balls deep in this every night of the week.” Dean started tying your wrists to the headboard, not bothering to check if the ropes were too tight before doing the same with your ankles, making sure your legs were spread. Your face was burning in embarrassment, and Dean noticed, “What? Embarrassed? About little old me?”

This situation was still less than ideal, your boyfriend and his brother were heartless. But with how hot the two of them were above you, you couldn’t find it in you to care. Your heart was still beating out of your chest but you found yourself getting into this situation. You slowly nodded, answering Dean’s question. 

“Fuck, you’re soaked, baby,” Sam muttered under his breath, running a finger up your slit. You shivered at the sudden contact, his skin was cold. Sam smirked at this and kept teasing your slit, refusing to touch your clit or push anything into your hole. Dean stood off to the side, watching his brother play with you. As he watched, his lips curled into a smirk. You instantly knew he had a devious idea, and the thought of that both excited and scared you.

“Hey princess, why don’t we play a little game?” Dean purred, digging around in his box of toys. Sam watched Dean with curious eyes, wondering what his next move would be. 

“I don’t know,” you mumble, feeling a bit uncomfortable. You watched as Dean pulled out a blindfold.

“Shhh, it’s okay, princess,” Dean cooed, coming over to you, “We’re just gonna have some fun with you. We’re gonna put this on you and have some fun with you and after a few minutes we’re going to make you guess who it was. You guess right, you get a reward, you guess wrong? Well you’ll see what happens then.”

“B-But I’ve never been touched by you before, Dean,” you looked up at him, eyes wide. 

“But you’ve been touched by Sammy plently, so if it feels unfamiliar than it’s probably me, hm?” Dean explained.

“You’ll do great, baby,” Sam took the blindfold from Dean and covered your eyes. Everything was instantly dark. It was already scary enough fucking the two heartless Winchesters but the added on loss of a sense made it even scarier. Not that you got a choice in the matter, you knew they would be having their fun, whether you were willing or not. It’s not as if you’ve never thought of this before, being completely at Sam and Dean’s mercy. As much as you’d never cheat on Sammy, you have thought about be taken by both of them at the same time. You even found yourself browsing through some of the ‘Dean x Reader x Sam’ written by the Supernatural book community. There was a specific one you remembered that featured Soulless Sam and Demon Dean, and it turned you on more than you’d ever admit. You were brought out of your thoughts by a set of hands on your body, and a pair of lips on yours. 

The hands were big, rough, but the lips were soft, gentle. You found yourself leaning up to kiss the man on top of you back. His hands roamed your body, groping your tits, your hips, your ass. A low growl was let out as you opened your mouth to let him explore. Soon enough, he was biting your bottom lip, ignoring the gasp you let out. His hands got more and more rough, squeezing at your tits and ass. You let out a whine as he played with you, and a small smack was placed on your hip, as somewhat of a warning not to complain. After another moment, the man stepped away and Dean’s voice, “Okay, princess, guess.”

You thought for a moment, Sam was normally rather gentle with you, unless you’d pissed him off and he hadn’t been pissed off at all today..It had to be Dean.

“D-Dean?” You stuttered out and a low chuckle left Sam’s lips.

“Nope,” Sam answered, “It was me, pretty girl.”

“O-Oh..” you replied, suddenly very nervous and scared. What were they gonna do? The boys chuckled in unison at your fear.

“That’s okay, princess, you have two more wrong guesses until you get punished,” Dean explained and it went silent again for another few minutes before a pair of lips was on your neck, kissing. The man on top of you didn’t touch your body, he just kissed your neck before beginning to litter hickeys all over it. He was relentless, never letting up for longer than a few seconds. He spent a long time sucking hickeys onto your neck and marking you up. Moans and whimpers left your lips but he didn’t smack you like Sam did. That was what you noticed and decided would be the deciding key. Eventually, after what you assumed to be ten minutes, he pulled away. 

“Guess,” Sam said.

“Dean,” you said, confidently and Dean smirked.

“That’s right, princess. Marked you all up so everyone knows you’re ours,” Dean said with a smirk. Another minute passed before you felt hot breath on your soaked core. After a moment, a tongue dipped forward and began circling your clit. You bit your lip and a smack was placed upon your thigh at this.

“Let us hear you,” Sam spoke up, but you couldn’t tell if the voice came from between your legs or from elsewhere. You pondered this for a moment and let your lip go as the tongue on your clit kept going. Eventually the man inbetween your legs leaned in and started to suck on your clit, flicking his tongue over it as he worked. Quiet moans and whimpers left your lips as he worked on you. After just a minute or two, he had you shaking as you came on his tongue, but his didn’t let up.

“Please-!” You called out, pulling out the restraints but the ropes were tight, it just caused a burning sensation on your wrists. You stopped pulling but whined as the tongue was relentless, “Sam, Dean, please!” But neither of the boys answered you, continuing to work you towards the edge. Soon enough, a finger was pushed into your greedy, wet hole. Your loud moan echoed throughout the room as he did. Soon enough you were clenching around the finger, nearing another orgasm, but just as you were about to go over that edge, he stopped. An even louder whine left your throat, as the man got up. You heard the loud sound of one of them sucking their finger clean. 

“Such a little slut,” Sam muttered, “Guess.”

Your brain malfunctioned for a second, you completely forgot the point of the game. Shit, who was between your legs?

“Sam?” You guessed, genuinely having no reasoning.

“Nope, was me, princess,” Dean spoke up and a light smack was placed against your thigh, “You better start guessing right or you’re in for a punishment, baby girl.” You gulped, waiting for their next move. After a moment, another man was between your legs and above you. You felt the tip of a cock rubbing against your slit. You let out a whine at the teasing and eventually the man pushed in. You instantly knew who it was, you knew that cock anywhere. You were partially relieved, you wouldn’t need a punishment but part of you was also curious. What would the punishment be? Would they get rougher? 

The man bottomed out and just sat there for a minute, before giving a few slow, deep thrusts. The cock didn’t come back out but Dean’s voice came from above you.

“Who is it, princess? Who’s inside your slutty pussy right now?”

You knew it was your Sammy but something compelled you to answer a different way.

“Dean.”

This time both of the boys chuckled in a sort of sick, twisted way. 

“Wrong,” Dean leaned down and whispered into your ear. You shivered at this and soon enough the blindfold was removed. Sure enough, Sam was inbetween your legs, balls deep in your pussy, while Dean stood off to the side. You noticed that both of them were fully undressed. Your eyes flashed to Dean’s dick and you found yourself licking your lips. Dean’s hand grapped a fistful of your hair and pulled on it, forcing you to look up at him, “Did ya hear me, slut? You were wrong, you’re going to get punished.” Dean then looked to his brother, “What should we do to her Sammy?”

Sam licked his lips for a second, eyeing up your body, before responding, “It’s hard to pick. We could stick something in her pussy and just leave her here for a while. We could hurt her, I know she’s a little pain slut. We could use these holes until she’s sobbing. We could even call Crowley and some of his demons over, let them have a couple rounds with her.” You made a face of digust, but your pussy told the truth, as you clenched down on Sam’s cock. Sam chuckled, “What do you think, Dean? Wanna let her be a little cum dump for everyone we know?”

“As much as that intrigues me, she’s ours for right now. Maybe we’ll leave her here after we’ve had our fill and let her be used by a couple of our buddies,” Dean said, laughing when your eyes filled with fear, “But for now, I think our little whore deserves to be treated like the little whore she is.” Sam chuckled, reaching forward and pinching your nipples, hard. A yelp left your throat but Sam ignored it, twisting them. Another sick amd twisted smirk formed on Dean’s face as he watched his brother hurt you. Sam slowly started fucking you again, still going in slow, deep thrusts. He kept your nipples in his fingers and he kept occasionally twisting them, ignoring the look of pain on your face because he could feel you clenching down on his cock. You were too focused on the pain to notice Dean speaking to you, “Open up.”

After you didn’t answer right away, a slap was placed upon your cheek and you were instantly looking at Dean with wide, scared eyes. He repeated himself, “Open. your. mouth.” You instantly obeyed, sticking your tongue out and suddenly Dean was forcing his cock down your throat. No minute to adjust, his cock was instantly down your cock. You gagged and sputtered but he ignored it, gripping your hair roughly and making your head go up and down on his cock. Sam sped up his thrusts, continuing to twist and pinch your nipples with one hand while the other came down and smacked your clit.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned out, “She’s such a little whore.” 

“I know, man, she thinks I actually like her but truthfully I just like having a little obidient fuck toy. Just an object to help get my dick wet.”

If you weren’t being played with, that comment would’ve hurt but in your current predicament it just made your pussy twitch. Sam brought his hand down onto your clit again and you moaned around Dean’s dick. Both boys sped up their pace at the same time and you were once again gagging on the dick down your throat. Dean didn’t care though, he was getting his fill. You let out a loud moan, nearly screaming as Sam hit your cervix with his thrusts.

“Aww, is my cock to big for your little pussy?” Sam asked, smacking your clit again. You were pushed over the edge at that and started cumming around Sam’s cock. Sam felt this but he didn’t stopped, still thrusting. You whined but they didn’t care.

“Be a good fuck doll, good fuck dolls stay quiet,” Dean commented, wrapping his hand around your throat. He lightly squeezed down and groaned when he could feel himself buried in your throat. He kept his hand tight around your throat and continued using your throat. Squelching noises came from both ends of your body as they used you. Suddenly, Dean pulled out, biting his lip and stroking his cock over your face. Sam watched, smirking. The boys eyes met and they came in unison, Sam in your wet cunt, while Dean came all over your face. Your eyes squeezed shut as cum splashed in them but Dean just laughed, reaching forward, holding one open and purposely getting his cum in it, “Act like a slut, get treated like one.” Tears fell down your face at the cums in your eyes and a choked out sob left your throat. Sam joined Dean in laughing. The boys laughed at you as you kept tearing up, trying to get your vision back to normal. Cum was all over the rest of your face as well, lips, nose, and even your hair. After a few minutes, you sniffled, and managed to be able to keep your eyes open.

“You done bein a baby?” Sam asked, pulling out. The boys switched position and your eyes went wide.

“W-What’re you doin?”

“Did you think we were done with you, princess?” Dean asked, as he lined himself up with your pussy.

“That’s too bad, baby, because watching your little crying fit just got us hard again. Besides, you wanna give Dean a turned with your pussy, dontcha?” Sam smirked.

You hesitated for a moment but silently nodded, embarassed. Sam chuckled, and lined his cock up with your lips. The boys made eye contact before entering you in a swift movement, both at the same time. You gagged on Sam’s cock as well. Sam’s cock was bigger than Dean’s, so it hurt more in your throat but Dean’s didn’t hit your cervix as he entered your pussy. You were greatful for this, as Sam had probably arleady bruised it and it already was sore. Dean set a fast pace, and you moaned around Sam’s cock. Sam set a much slower pace, enjoying watching you choke on his cock. 

“Her pussy’s so tight, Sammy,” Dean commented, “You’re a lucky man.”

“I sure am,” Sam said, “I got the best fuck toy of them all. Even if she’s a whiny little bitch sometimes.” You choked each time Sam bottomed out in your throat but Sam didn’t care, whatsoever.

“Ever made her squirt?” Dean asked, smirking

“Once or twice,” Sam replied, speeding up his thrusts into your throat a little bit. 

“Wanna see a cool trick?” Dean asked with a smirk and Sam nodded. Suddenly you screamed around Sam’s cock, at the feeling of Dean pushing two fingers into your pussy with his cock, “Come on, slut. Don’t be a fucking baby.” Tears filled your eyes at the stretch, it hurt. But Dean didn’t care. He kept thrusting, and began to finger you at the same time, finding your g-spot and roughly pushing his fingers against it. You let out a loud scream again at this. Sam smirked and watched intently while you choked on his cock. As Dean had mentioned, after just over a minute, you were becoming a water founation on Dean’s dick. Sam’s eyes went wide and his dick twitched in your throat. Sam pulled out nearly all the way, leaving his cock to rest on your tongue. He stroked it while watching you squirt all over Dean and he let out a groan, cumming onto your tongue.

 He pulled his cock back, “Stick your tongue out.” You did as told, a pool of Sam’s cum still resting on your tongue, “Now keep that there while Dean finishes his fun with you. Dean didn’t let up after you squirted. Whines and whimpers left your lips as Dean continued to use you, but you were focused on keeping Sam’s cum where he told you to. Sam watched, intently, “Oh and if you spill a drop of that, we’re gonna invite Crowley over and let him have his way with you. All night long.” You couldn’t help it as you moaned loudly and began squirting on Dean’s dick.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned, cumming deep inside you as your pussy convulsed around him again. He let his thrusting stop and he pulled his fingers out, rubbing your clit, hoping to make your squirt last longer, “You like that idea, slut?”

“I bet she does,” Sam said, smirking, looking at your face. Your eyes were crossed, tongue was out, but like a good girl, you managed to keep Sam’s cum resting on your tongue, “Good girl, baby. Swallow.” You instantly swallowed it and pushed your tongue out again to show that it was gone. 

“Andddd scene,” Dean joked, pulling out. A genuine smile appeared on Sam’s face.

“You okay, baby? We weren’t too rough?” Sam asked, while Dean started untying you. 

“Come on, Sammy, she loved it.”

You smiled at Dean and shook your head, looking into the eyes of your loving boyfriend, who was in fact, not soulless. 

“Good,” Sam smiled and stroked your cheek gently, “Had so much fun, baby.”

“Same time tomorrow?” Dean joked, which earned him a harsh glare from you, “Fine fine, no same time tomorrow.” A light laugh left all of your guy’s throats and Sam leaned down, giving you a long kiss. Luckily, these men weren’t a demon and a soulless man, they were your boyfriend and his brother, who just happened to stumble upon a fic you were reading and both cared for you deeply. 

Sam pulled away after a moment, “I love you, baby.”

“Love you too, Sammy.”

#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader #spn smut #smut

[nahoney22]

Hi! i love your writing and was wondering if you could do the tbb (or just tech if you dont wanna do all of them) reaction to their gender neutral S/O pulling out their old instrument or color guard equipment from their marching band days and practicing what they remember (i dont even know if star wars has an equivalent to marching band/color guard lol but i picked an old practice flag up for the first time since high school earlier and the thought popped into my head for this request..) feel free to disregard this if it’s not something you wanna write, keep up the amazing work!!

Colour Guard Memories

The Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

How The Bad Batch react to you pulling out your old instrument or colour guard equipment.

warnings: none, gender neutral reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, Batchers admiring/encouraging reader.

authors note: this is a really cute idea and sorry it has took so long to do anon. In the UK we don’t really have marching bands/ colour guards aside from royal parades from what I know so I’ve relied on Google to help me out 😅 enjoy!

Echo

"Think we've got everything?" Echo asks, sealing the final box of your belongings.

As you survey the sea of packed boxes, you're struck by the realisation of just how many possessions you've gathered over the years. It's only now, in the process of moving out of your family home, that the extent of it hits you. After what feels like an eternity of packing and stacking, you're finally done and you couldn’t be any more grateful for Echo's helping hand.

"I hope so," you reply, wiping your brow and straightening up, hands on your hips. "Now, all that's left is to get it onto the ship." The prospect of lugging boxes onto the ship isn't exactly thrilling, but you're itching to kick back and relax.

Echo chuckles and reaches for one of the sealed boxes, but disaster strikes as the bottom gives way, sending its contents tumbling to the floor. "Well, that's just great," he says wryly.

Letting out a sigh, you join him in gathering up the scattered items. Amidst the chaos, something catches your eye: an old, familiar object. "No way!"

Startled by your sudden excitement, Echo turns to you. "What is it?"

"It's my Sabre!" you exclaim, holding up the cherished item for him to see.

He blinks in surprise. "Uh, your lightsaber?"

You playfully roll your eyes at Echo, a mischievous glint in your eyes, as you take the equipment into your hands and wave it at him. "You've known me long enough to know I'm not a Jedi, Echo," you tease, giving the Sabre a quick twirl. "It's from when I used to be be a colour guard for a marching band."

Echo chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "I didn't know you did that."

"Yeah! I loved it. Want to see what I can still do?" you ask, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"The floor's all yours," he says, stepping back to give you space.

You take a moment to steady yourself, feeling the weight of the stainless steel Sabre in your hands. With a deep breath, you begin your routine, the familiar movements flooding back to you. As you twirl the Sabre with practiced precision, you can't help but feel a surge of nostalgia. However, in the midst of your performance, disaster strikes as the Sabre slips from your grip, narrowly missing a nearby window.

"Okay, okay, I'm a little rusty. Give me a second," you laugh sheepishly, quickly retrieving the saber and regaining your composure but Echo was still smiling and impressed throughout.

Determined to redeem yourself, you focus on each movement, executing smooth transitions and intricate spins. With each flourish, you feel a sense of satisfaction, the familiar rhythm of the routine bringing back fond memories. As you finally come to a graceful finish, you can't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you.

Echo applauds, a smile playing on his lips. "That was really impressive. You should've told me you could do that before."

"We all have our hidden talents," you grin, a twinkle in your eye as you admire the old memory in your hand before carefully tucking it back into the box. "Anyway, we should probably get going before I get distracted again."

“Well,” he says, resting a hand on your shoulder, “you should perform for me again sometime. If you want to that is.”

There’s a shine in his eyes, genuinely in awe of you and your talent. “I’ll definitely think about it.”

Hunter

Low on credits and desperate for some food to fill your stomachs, you and Hunter venture into a bustling market on a remote planet, hoping to find some opportunity to earn a bit of cash.

"See anything?" Hunter asks, strolling alongside you as you take in the sights and sounds of the market.

"Not really," you reply with a frown. The market is dimly lit, offering little in the way of useful materials, and the locals don't seem particularly welcoming. It's no wonder Hunter insisted on accompanying you.

But then, something does catch your eye. "Hey, that looks like one of my old flags," you remark, pointing to a colorful flag tucked away at the back of a small pop-up stall.

Hunter stops beside you, his interest piqued. "You used to spin those, didn't you?"

You chuckle at his phrasing, yet surprised that he remembers since it was just something you mentioned in passing once. "Yeah, I did. Not sure if I still have the touch, though."

A smirk spreads across Hunter's face as he holds up a finger, indicating for you to wait a moment. A bit embarrassed, you watch as he approaches the seller and strikes up a conversation. After a brief exchange, Hunter returns, flag in hand. "Let's put that theory to the test, shall we?" he suggests with a grin.

"Hunter! Did you just pay for that?" you exclaim incredulously as he shoves the pole into your hand.

"No," he says with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But they said if you can impress them, you can keep it."

You narrow your eyes at him, a mixture of amusement and disbelief dancing in your gaze. "Fine. But I'm warning you," you declare, stepping into a clearing and scanning the area to ensure there's enough space before attempting to recreate a routine you haven't performed in years. "I'm not as good as I used to be."

Taking a deep breath, you grip the pole firmly and let muscle memory take over as you start spinning the flag with practiced precision. The fabric unfurls in vibrant arcs, catching the sunlight and casting colorful patterns across the ground. With each twirl and flourish, you feel a surge of nostalgia as memories of your days in the colour guard come flooding back.

As you continue your impromptu performance, you can't help but lose yourself in the rhythm of the routine, the flag becoming an extension of your body as you spin and swirl with grace.

Hunter is watching you silently and appears to be actually enamoured by your performance. His eyes are wide in surprise.

When you finally come to a graceful finish, you turn to Hunter with a triumphant smile, the flag held aloft in your hand. "How's that for impressing them?" you ask, a hint of pride in your voice.

“That was… wow.” Is all he says, a proud smile on his face. He takes one look to the seller who just gives a brief nod. “And the flag is yours it seems.”

Hunter comes up beside you once more but you feel a tug on your top, turning to face a young child who was holding out credits to you. Bashfully, you accept and the credits swiftly came flooding in.

“Heh, seems like you still got it.” He nudges your side playfully.

This could be a pretty safe way to earn some extra credits it seems.

Wrecker

"Wrecker, come look at this!" you call out excitedly, beckoning your companion over.

With Wrecker's assistance in tidying up the Marauder and transferring some items to the Remora, you stumble upon an unexpected treasure: an old snare drum tucked away amidst the clutter.

"Woah, what's tha’?" Wrecker asks, intrigued, as he joins you on the floor, his eyes fixed on the instrument in your hands.

"I used to play it in a marching band. Forgot I even had it," you reply with a wistful smile, the memories of your band days flooding back, tinged with nostalgia and a touch of sadness for times gone by.

Wrecker notices the flicker of emotion on your face and decides to lift your spirits. "Well, go on then. Give us a beat," he encourages, nudging the drum closer to you and offering a drumstick.

You smile gratefully, feeling a rush of anticipation as you accept the drumstick from his outstretched hand and pick up the matching one from the ground. "Just so you know," you say with a playful glint in your eye, "it sounds much better in a chorus rather than individually."

With a deep breath, you position the drumsticks in your hands, feeling the familiar weight and texture of the material. Closing your eyes, you let muscle memory guide your movements as you begin to play. The rhythmic tapping of the drum reverberates through the air.

As you lose yourself in the music, your fingers move effortlessly across the drum's surface, producing a lively beat that echoes off the walls of the ship. With each stroke, super fast and then skilfully slow, you feel a sense of liberation.

Wrecker watches in awe, a grin spreading cross his face as he listens to the infectious rhythm you create. For a moment, all worries and cares fade away, replaced by the joy of listening to you play. Flourishing a finish, your cheeks warm to Wrecker applauding enthusiastically.

"Tha’ was amazing!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You've still got it."

You grin, feeling a surge of pride at his words. "Thanks, Wrecker," you reply, a sense of contentment washing over you. "Maybe we should start our own band."

“Definitely!”

Tech

"Is this yours?" Omega's voice interrupts your thoughts, drawing your attention to the slim case she's holding. As you approach, a wave of nostalgia washes over you at the sight of the familiar case.

"I haven't seen this for a long time," you smile warmly, taking the case into your hands. Kneeling down, you blow the dust off and flip open the lid, revealing your old clarinet nestled inside.

Omega's eyes widen with curiosity as she peers at the instrument. "Wow, that's cool! Did you play it?"

You nod, a fond smile on your face. "Yeah, I used to. In a colour guard and in parades."

"Can you play something now?" she asks eagerly.

Before you can respond, Omega suddenly calls out, "TECH! COME HERE!"

Tech, engrossed in his data pad, looks up in surprise and heads your way. "What is the nature of my presence this time, Omega?"

Omega launches into an exaggerated explanation of your discovery and her request. "Listen to them play."

Tech adjusts his goggles and looks down at you with curious eyes. "I was not aware you could play any instrument."

"I haven't in a long time," you admit sheepishly, wiping the mouthpiece and adjusting the bridge keys. "But I can give it a try."

With a deep breath, you bring the clarinet to your lips and begin to play a soft, melancholic tune. The notes fill the air, weaving a gentle melody that seems to resonate with the quiet stillness of the surroundings. It was a gentle tune, a stark difference to the ones you played in parades.

As you play, you notice Tech glancing up from his data pad, his expression softening as he listens intently to the music. It's a rare sight to see him so engrossed in something other than his work, and you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that your music has captured his attention.

By the time you finish the piece, Tech is still watching you, a thoughtful look on his face.

Omega bursts into a loud applause meanwhile Tech smiled at you. “I would not mind you playing that whilst I do some repairs... it’s rather relaxing.”

Crosshair

“What are you doing?” Crosshair's voice breaks your concentration mid-performance, and you freeze as your arms flail, causing the wooden rifle to slip from your grasp and clatter onto the grass.

You spin to face the clone, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. "I found my old rifle from when I used to perform," you explain quickly, bending down to retrieve the prop. With a flick of your foot, you send it spinning into the air, catching it effortlessly as it falls back down. "Want to see?"

Crosshair eyes the rifle with a hint of intrigue, his skepticism giving way to mild interest. "Perform? Rifles are for shooting. Not messing around with.”

“It’s wood, idiot.” You knock on the equipment before you then shrug, a sheepish grin tugging at your lips. "Anyway, it’s called rifle spinning. I used to do it as part of a routine in a performance group. It's more about coordination and showmanship than anything else. Wanna see?” You ask again.

Crosshair nods slowly, his gaze lingering on the rifle as you twirl it expertly in your hands. He stands back as you shows off your moves and he couldn’t hide the small impressed smirk forming on his lips. "You’re quite impressive I’ll give you that. But don't let it distract you from our mission." The compliment was rare but not one you were going to refuse as you give him a smile of thanks. But, he was right. There were more pressing matters at large.

You chuckle, nodding in agreement as you secure the rifle back in its holster. "Of course not. Just a little trip down memory lane."

Masterlist

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#nahoney22 writes #gn reader #the bad batch #tbb #tbb echo x reader #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch x gn reader #tbb wrecker x reader #tbb tech x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #tech bad batch #Hunter bad batch #crosshair bad batch #wrecker bad batch #echo bad batch