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believemedarlin · 4 months

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The Perfect Man

Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader (3.9k words) Also available on AO3

Summary:

“You know, if you combined all the men on the team… they’d make the perfect man.”

“What?” Emily sputtered into her wine.

Penelope giggled while JJ looked intrigued

***

A drunken night out with the girls leads to some interesting revelations.

***

“Let’s play Fuck, Marry, Kill.”

A round of groans sounded from the table, but Penelope Garcia was not to be dissuaded.

“Come on, ladies. It’ll be fun!”

Her best puppy dog eyes firmly in place, Penelope implored her friends and coworkers with a practiced look. You were holding strong until she brought out the big guns and pouted at you.

A mere ten seconds later you caved.

“Okay, fine,” You sighed. “But can we use kick instead of kill? I always hated that option. Why do you have to kill them when kicking would be just as effective in showing your lack of interest? No death required.”

“Ooh, I like that,” Penelope immediately agreed with a nod. “You know I’m a pacifist at heart.”

She turned to the other two women seated at the table, pout back in full force. JJ gave in first, patting Penelope’s hand with an indulgent smile and a nod.

Seeing that she was outnumbered, Emily shrugged. “Sure. But I’ll need another drink if we’re doing this. I haven’t played this since college.”

“I’ll get us all another round.” Penelope jumped to her feet to join her and they made their way to the bar, weaving through the other patrons.

It was a rare Friday night off and the women of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit had decided to go out for a much-needed night of ladies-only fun and frivolity. They had happily left the guys to sort out their evenings and escaped the second the clock struck five.

They were all a few drinks in at this point, which is most likely the reason Penelope had suggested the game. She always got a bit playful when she drank.

They returned a few minutes later, fresh drinks in hand.

Once settled, Penelope leaned in, an eager smile on her face. “Okay. Fuck, Marry, Kick. Henry Cavill, Ben Barnes, Zachary Levi. And go!”

Emily took a sip of her drink and wasted no time in voicing her choices, followed by JJ and you. You took turns coming up with more and more outlandish options, and pleasantly spent the next hour drinking and laughing with your friends.

You had just finished giggling over Penelope’s reasoning behind her choosing to kick Willy Wonka and marry Jareth the Goblin King so she could enjoy a night with Conan the Barbarian when Emily leaned in with a smirk.

“I’ve got a good one. Hotch, Morgan, and Reid.”

The table erupted in a chorus of ooohs and laughter.

JJ bit her lip in thought. “Okay, since we know them personally and I’m a happily taken woman, I’m going to change mine to kiss, because it’s weird to say I want to fuck any of them. So, uh, I’ll go with kiss Morgan, marry Reid, and kick Hotch. But only barely, because I do not want him angry with me.”

“Easy,” Penelope chirped. “Fuck Morgan, marry Morgan, and kick Reid and Hotch.”

You, JJ, and Emily burst into laughter, with JJ swatting Penelope on the arm. “You can’t double up like that!”

“Can too! My game, my rules. Besides, it’s special circumstances with Morgan as an option.”

Emily snorted, then grinned. “Hmm. I think I’d go with fuck Morgan, marry Hotch, and kick Reid.”

All eyes then turned to you as you stared into your drink, taking entirely too long as you overthought the options.

Eventually, Emily cleared her throat and you looked up to see her watching you expectantly.

“What?” You grinned sheepishly with a shrug. “It’s harder than you’d think!”

The ladies teased you good-naturedly until you finally said, “Okay, okay! Um, I think…”

You blew out a breath in a long sigh. “Fuck Reid, marry Hotch, kick Morgan. No wait… Maybe fuck Hotch, marry Reid?”

Emily and JJ cackled while Penelope put on a fake offended air. “Why you gotta kick my beloved cinnamon hot chocolate Adonis not once, but twice? He’s the perfect man!”

"I mean, a lot of women would think that, yeah, but not me.”

Penelope gasped and pressed her hand to her chest dramatically. “Why, I never.”

You giggled with a shrug. “Sorry?”

“You’re forgiven.”

“What I want to know,” JJ chimed in with a mischievous grin, “is why you can’t decide between Reid and Hotch on who to marry?”

You buried your face in your hands to hide your blush. “I don’t know! Both seem like solid choices. I think they’d both make good husbands.”

Emily smirked. “Sure it wasn’t because you couldn’t decide which you’d rather fuck?”

Penelope and JJ burst into laughter again while you groaned into your hands.

“You all are menaces. I don’t know why I spend time with you.”

“Because we’re wonderful people and you love us.” Penelope teased.

“That’s debatable.” You mumbled.

“Oh, come on,” she leaned into your side and laid her head on your shoulder. “You know you adore us.” Penelope batted her eyes and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Yeah, I do.”

She cheered and called for another round of drinks.

The game wound down and devolved into a rather extensive list of men and women that each of the ladies wouldn’t mind enjoying some personal one-on-one time with.

You had been sitting in a comfortable silence for the past few minutes, chin in hand and elbow on the table, your mind pondering on something Penelope had said earlier. Your voice took on a contemplative tone as you mused aloud, “You know, if you combined all the men on the team… they’d make the perfect man.”

“What?” Emily sputtered into her wine.

Penelope giggled while JJ looked intrigued.

“Okay, just hear me out. Now, granted, everyone’s idea of the perfect man is different but for me… If we go by physical attributes first, you have to admit that each guy is objectively attractive on their own. I mean seriously, was it a prerequisite that everyone has to be outrageously good-looking to be a member of the team?”

The ladies heartily agreed with laughter and nods, but you gestured across the table to them. “I’m including you three in this too. Have you looked at yourselves? You’re all absolutely gorgeous.”

“Damn right, we are,” Emily exclaimed as she high-fived JJ.

You raised your glass to her and took a sip before expanding on your premise. “So by themselves, each man is handsome but combined…”

You tilt your head in thought. “For me, it would be Reid’s hair. I’ve always liked longer hair on a guy and have you seen those curls when he lets it grow out? And then add in Hotch and Rossi’s dark hair and … yeah. Next would be Morgan and Rossi’s facial hair. I don’t know about you ladies but I like a man with a bit of scruff, you know what I mean? Goatee or full beard or just a couple of days growth, hell even a good five o’clock shadow, as long as it’s maintained and not all scraggly, I like it. Oooh, remember when Hotch came back with a beard?

“Yeah,” you sighed, a bit more dreamily than you had intended, surely caused by the late hour and not the memory of a casually dressed, bearded Hotch. “Like that.”

All three ladies shared a knowing look, but you paid them no mind.

“Though there is something to be said about a freshly shaved face. It’s so soft…” You sighed again.

“And then there’s height.” You knew you were rambling, but with the alcohol fueling you, there was little chance of stopping you now. “They’re all at least 6 foot so the height difference is perfect for both cuddles and forehead kisses.”

At this, Emily snorted. “Forehead kisses?”

“Yes,” you snipped primly. “They are the pinnacle of non-lip-to-lip kisses and they are my favorite thing. They just make you feel so adored. Now shush.”

You shooed her and rested your chin back in your hand. “Let’s see… Eyes. Honestly, I think they all have lovely eyes. I’m not picky on eye color really but I think Hotch’s stand out the most to me. I mean, have you seen his eyelashes? It should be criminal for a man to have such beautiful eyelashes.”

Another round of nods and hummed agreements sounded from the table.

“You know,” you continue with barely a pause, “I’ve never been a fan of really buff dudes, which sorry Pen, but that’s kinda why poor Morgan got kicked twice.” You shrugged unapologetically at her.

“I’ve always preferred lean guys. Not scrawny but not bugling out his shirt, you know? Strong but not shoved in your face. But!” You sit straighter in your chair, index finger raised to emphasize your point. “That’s just looks. Personality-wise, I’m drawn to kindness first and our boys all have that in spades. And they each show it in different ways, but it’s always present.”

You met Penelope’s eyes. “And Morgan’s kindness absolutely overrides his excessive muscle mass. He’s honestly one of the kindest people I know, even if he’d deny it. He’s not humble about a lot of things, but he is about that.”

Your eyes dropped to the table as your finger ran along the wood grain. “I also like intelligence and while yes, first thoughts go to Reid, the others are all brilliant too. Like, Rossi is so wise! It seems like he always knows what’s going on with someone before anyone else, and always seems to know just what to say just when you need to hear it. And they each have strengths that I admire. I genuinely like each of them as a person and I’m proud to know them and am honored they consider me a friend. Honestly, I feel that way about all of you.”

“Aw!” Penelope sniffled. “That’s so sweet. We love you too, you know.”

You gave her hand a quick squeeze and took another sip of your drink.

“What about lips?”

You blinked at JJ. “Lips? I’m not sure. I don’t know that I look at them much.”

Emily tilted her head. “You seriously don’t look at men’s lips?”

“Not really? I mean, I notice smiles. And honestly, how did I not start with that? It’s usually one of the first things I notice about someone. Smiles make everyone look twice as attractive. Oh, and a sense of humor! Gotta love a man who can make you laugh.”

“This one is definitely Morgan,” Emily chimed in and you nodded in agreement while Penelope raised her glass.

“Absolutely. He always makes me laugh, but so do the others. Rossi is snarky, which I appreciate as a fellow snarker. I can’t tell you the number of times he’s made me hold back a laugh during a round table. Reid can be really funny, too. Especially when we’re making Star Trek or Doctor Who references that no one else gets. Except you, Pen, but you’re usually in your lair. And Hotch—”

“No,” Emily cut in. “No way you think he’s funny. The man barely smiles.”

You tsked and leaned in, your tone turning a bit haughty. “First of all, I think it’s a good thing that he holds those back because have you seen how handsome he is when he smiles? His whole face transforms and he has dimples. Dimples . It’s ridiculous and no one would be able to focus on work if he was blinding us with his smile all the time. And secondly, yes. He’s hilarious, actually. He has a dry sense of humor that gets me every time. And he is so straight-faced about it. I laughed embarrassingly loud once at something he said and I had to leave the room because I couldn’t stop giggling. And the man had the nerve to be smug about it later.”

You shook your head with exasperated fondness, not noticing the raised eyebrows and pointed looks the other ladies were sharing.

“Anyway,” You sighed and leaned back in your chair. “Morgan is my biggest supporter, Reid nerds out with me, Rossi gives the best advice, and Hotch makes me feel safe. All things that would attract me to someone. So, with their powers combined…” You spread your hands in a sweeping motion. “The perfect man.”

“Huh,” Penelope hummed. “You know, I kinda see it.”

“See?” You grinned triumphantly. “We really do work with amazing guys.”

A cry of ‘hear, hear’ sounded around the table and the four of you leaned in to clink glasses.

Emily settled back in her chair with a smirk, her eyes focused on you. “Okay, you waxed poetic about the guys. Now, what about us?”

You grinned. “You, my darling lady loves, all hold a special place in my heart. There’s no way I could choose. You are each the perfect woman.”

Another cheer went up and everyone downed their drinks, laughing merrily.

The outing wound down about half an hour later. You each stumbled your way outside, Emily and Penelope deciding to share a taxi.

You stood with JJ as you waved the other two goodbye; you waiting for your own taxi and JJ waiting for Will to pick her up.

“You know,” she said conversationally, her eyes on the street. “You mentioned Hotch quite a few times describing your perfect man.”

You blinked. “What? I did not.”

She turned to you with a wide grin. “Oh yes, you did. No denying it now.”

You sputtered, not sure how to reply.

She chuckled and laid a hand on your arm, just as your taxi arrived. “Seems to me like he ticks quite a few of the boxes for your perfect man.” She leaned in to whisper, “So what are you going to do about it?”

JJ winked as she stepped back to open the door of the car that pulled in behind your taxi and slid in. “Just think about it, okay?”

You nodded numbly, mechanically climbing into the back seat of the taxi while Will and JJ patiently waited to make sure you were safely on your way.

You mumbled out your address and barely noticed the drive home, arriving much sooner than expected, as your mind was focused on JJ’s words.

You shook your head as you entered your apartment, determined to think no more of it. It was just a silly statement born out of one too many drinks.

There was no way you thought of Hotch that way.

No way at all.

***

The rest of the weekend was miraculously quiet and work-free. You couldn’t remember the last time you had so much time to yourself, so you took full advantage of it.

As days off always tended to do, they flew by too quickly and Monday morning arrived before you were ready for it. You greeted everyone when you entered the department, nodding to Rossi and waving at Morgan and Penelope as you settled in at your desk.

No new case had come in, so today would be an in-office day catching up on paperwork and caseloads.

You were productive throughout the day, completing most of the pending work assigned to you, and you were feeling quite accomplished with the diminishing stack in your inbox.

Only a few minutes remained in the workday when you stood from your chair, stretching your stiff back, and made your way up the stairs to Hotch’s office to drop off an armful of completed reports.

You knocked on his door, only having to wait a second before he bid you enter.

He was focused on the open file in front of him and he didn’t look up until you spoke. “These are ready for you to review, Hotch.”

His eyes shot up to meet yours before dropping to the folders in your arms. He gestured to the corner of his desk nearest you and went back to scribbling notes on the report. “You can just leave them there, thank you.”

You set them down next to another stack and grimaced. There were multiple bundles of files littering his desk. While in-office days were great for clearing your desk of work, it unfortunately always added to Hotch’s workload.

“Looks like everyone had similar offerings for you today. Will you be able to leave at a reasonable hour tonight? I’d be happy to help with anything if you need it.”

Hotch finished the line he was writing and looked up at you through his long lashes, a small, shy kind of smile curving his lips. His cheeks were just a touch pinker than usual and you blinked because you’ve never seen that look on his face before.

He looked almost bashful, a word you would never have associated with Aaron Hotchner.

But damn, was it a good look on him. He really was a handsome man, wasn’t he? Kind, funny, successful, and a great father. He was practically the perfect man.

You froze and blinked again at the realization.

“Oh, uh,” his deep voice broke you from your thoughts. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got it covered. I shouldn’t be here too much longer.”

“Right, of course.” You nodded and prayed he couldn’t see the blush you knew was rapidly spreading across your face. “Well, good night, sir.”

You spun on your heel and opened the door, ready to flee as fast as your feet could carry you.

His low, murmured good night followed you out the door and you nearly shivered because holy hell, even his voice was attractive.

You quickly grabbed your things and nearly sprinted to the elevators, not wanting to stay one second longer around skilled profilers who could read you so easily, knowing they would spot your flushed cheeks instantly and want to know what caused them. Or worse, they’d already know, and that was not something you were ready to discuss with any of them at the moment.

You had fully intended on ignoring JJ’s words from Friday night, but after your reaction just now, you knew she was right.

Hotch was pretty damn close to fitting the idea of your perfect man.

Or maybe, the idea of your perfect man came from Hotch.

You sighed as you entered the thankfully empty elevator, finally admitting to yourself the truth that had been staring you in the face for longer than you’d ever care to admit.

You had it bad for Aaron Hotchner.

Oh, you were in so much trouble.

***

Aaron watched as you left his office, your face a delightful shade of pink.

His eyes followed as you rushed to your desk, snatched up your things, and darted out the door.

He hadn’t meant to overhear Prentiss and Garcia’s conversation that morning as they reminisced over their night out last Friday. He certainly hadn’t meant to linger when they mentioned you and your adorable—according to Garcia—rant about the perfect man. And he most certainly hadn’t meant to lean in rather eagerly when they whispered about just how many times his name had come up as an example during said rant.

He had been pleasantly surprised and somewhat stunned by the information. He’d never thought of himself as an ideal for the perfect man.

Sure, he supposed he had a few attributes that some women might find appealing. He had a successful career and tried to keep in shape, though that was more for his job than vanity.

But he never imagined that anyone would look at him and think that he was a paradigm of their perfect man. Least of all you.

You were a brilliant profiler, exceptional in the field and able to hold your own in a fight when needed, but you were also caring with the victims and their families. You were witty and kind and easygoing. You were someone who smiled freely and laughed readily and did your best to cheer and encourage the team on tough cases.

Not someone who would think of stoic, hardass Aaron Hotchner as the perfect man.

Still, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from drifting to the window of his office throughout the day, seeking you out.

He thought back to when you joined the BAU and how quickly you became not only an essential part of the team but a much-welcomed member of their little family. Everyone adored you and Aaron himself had to admit that you had wormed your way into his heart.

He loved the time he got to spend with you when the team got together to unwind after a case and the little moments of levity you all shared in between working. He recalled the times he managed to make you laugh and the occasions where he found himself chuckling as well. You were easy to talk to and more often than not, the two of you fell into conversation whenever everyone else was either asleep or preferred to be left alone on the jet going to and from cases.

He genuinely enjoyed your company and found himself wishing he could enjoy it more often.

His eyes wandered to the bullpen again, zeroing in on you almost immediately. Prentiss and Morgan were standing by your desk when one of them said something that made you laugh.

Your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth opened to release an enchanting sound of delight. Aaron couldn’t look away and had to admit that you really were quite lovely. Inside and out.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat looking at you but knew it was longer than appropriate. He shook his head and forced himself to focus back on his work.

He managed to shove all thoughts of you from his mind for the remainder of the day until a soft knock sounded on his door late in the afternoon.

He didn’t bother to look up from the report he was notating after giving a gruff come in until he heard your voice.

Aaron couldn’t keep his eyes from darting up to meet yours before dropping them to the large stack of files in your arms.

He gestured for you to place them on the corner of his desk next to the ones Reid had deposited earlier and thought that would be his singular interaction with you for the day.

But then your caring side came out again and you sweetly offered to help him, a proposition that both filled him with fondness and nervousness.

After all his wayward thoughts about you throughout the day, he wasn’t sure if being in close proximity with you was a good idea or not.

Aaron looked up at you again, the late afternoon sun enveloping you, enhancing your features, and his only thought was that he’d been wrong earlier.

You weren’t just lovely. You were stunning.

In that moment, he was completely captivated by you and his thoughts ran rampant as he cataloged every minute detail of you. Your beauty, your kindness, your brilliance, and all the little things that made you you . Everything that endeared you to him.

But his thoughts came to a crashing halt when he realized that he was staring at you. He felt his face flush and he stammered as he gently declined your help.

You bid him a good night, but Aaron couldn’t take his eyes off the spreading blush on your cheeks. It kept his attention until you were out of sight.

He blinked and dropped his eyes back to the forgotten report in front of him, a slow smile creeping across his face.

He may not have meant to overhear the conversation that caused him to think about you all day, but he was starting to be glad he had. It seemed it was all he needed to face a few truths he had been in denial about for a long while now.

He was completely and utterly smitten with you.

Now, he just had to decide what to do about it.

Aaron sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Oh, he was in so much trouble.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #jj jareau #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fanfiction

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schlattsdoll · 5 months

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Okay I thought of this while I was getting smth out of the car a few months ago (don’t ask lol)

Anyway

So, you go to a Lovejoy gig and you’re close to the stage. Will keeps making eye contact with you and it’s almost like he’s admiring you. And of course, you’re filming him, you’re getting this on camera. I mean, who wouldn’t? After the gig you’re outside on the sidewalk and Will comes up to you, guitar (in its case) in hand. And obviously this is after all the fans have left after trying to get the bands attention and you’re just trying to get an Uber. “Hey- I uh, thought you were really pretty and I was wondering if you wanted to go back to my place?” He asks you. Of course you say yes and ask for a picture and hug which he happily accepts. Once the band has gotten all their equipment put up in the van and has sat in said van Will pulls you down onto his lap and snuggles into the back of your neck, leaving soft kisses there. It makes you feel hot and flustered and the band is giggling at the two of you. And when you and Will get back to his those kisses get rougher and move to different places. Then, the two of you move to his bedroom and…. I’ll let you write the rest :)

(I’m sorry this is so long😭)

call me what you like - wilbur soot

warnings: smut{18+},afab reader, oral {m receiving} , rikki getting carried away,

you made damn sure you were as close to the barricade as humanly possible, it was lovejoy after all, and you had a crush on a certain singer. it wasnt often you attended a concert solo, but you made sure to make the best of it, making friends in line and the people around you. the preshow music cuts off and the lights dim, as the boys make their entrance. your phone camera is recording your beloved band, and you notice wilbur making his way towards your side of the stage. excitedly you zoom in your camera, and in a blink and you'll miss it moment, he winks at you. the rest of the concert you began to notice him favoring your area, and making eye contact with you.

the concert wraps and sadly, you didnt get a setlist or will's guitar pick like you had hoped for. the venue empties out, fans now desperately running outside to try and see them board the bus. you began to walk out of the venue and pulled up uber on your phone when you feel a tap on the shoulder. it was none other than wilbur soot himself. "oh my god! i'm such a huge fan of yours!"

will chuckled, "hello, obviously you know who i am, but i think you're really pretty and would like to get to know you." a tall man with shaggy brown hair smiled at you. "y-yeah, of course! my name is y/n." you managed to get out without turning into a total mess. you kindly ask him for a picture before he helps you sneak out the back. the whole time, you two are talking and shamelessly flirting. "i'd love to keep this going darling, why don't you come back to the bus with me for a drink?"

after you snuck into the bus, he realized there wasn't enough seats, and he simply pulled you down onto his lap. "i hope this is okay love, just wanna be close to you." he smiles up at you and kisses your cheek. his arms holding your back to his chest as his placed gentle kisses along the back of your neck, hands rubbing smooth circles into the plush of your thighs. his bandmates biting back laughs and giggles while your face flushes.

joe hands you and wilbur glasses of a clear liquid, and you cheers with them and down the shot with ease. the burn of alcohol in your throat, you smile and wiggle back into will, who's more than happy to be holding you. you do your best to turn around without getting off your seat, and he laughs until you managed to face him. "hi." "hello love." he kisses your cheek once again, then your forehead, then your nose, then finally your lips. your hands make their way to his hair, tugging the chocolate strands gently and if you listened close enough, you could hear a faint moan into the kiss.

the bus finally stopped at his apartment and you both pulled away breathlessly, a flush on both of your cheeks. he grabs his guitar and guides you too his room. "now, where were we?" he asked, placing down the guitar and sitting on his bed, patting the spot next to him. you walked over and instead of sitting next to him you straddle his lap, "somewhere about here." he smirks up at you, his hands finding their way up your back. he pulls you down and kisses you fiercely, hands fumbling towards the bottom of your top, tugging gently as a hint for you to raise your arms. you oblige his request and he does the same. he oogles your breasts, hands tentatively reaching forward for them. "may i?" you nodded your head and wilbur kisses his way down from your jaw to your neck, little purple marks blossoming down his path. he continues down to your clavicle, the finally your chest. taking one in his mouth, the other in his hand. his tongue flicking the sensitive bud while his hand gropes and squeezes, his thumb rubbing over your other nipple gently. once he's satisfied with his work on the one, he switches and repeats. "will, stop being a tease." you whine as he continues his ministrations on your breasts. he smirks and pinches and bites gently, causing your back to arch, grinding your clothed cunt down onto his growing erection. will pulls away, a dopey smile on his face, "sorry love, your tits are just amazing. wanna keep kissin' them." he places one last kiss to each before laying back against the bed, you now on top of him.

"we don't have to keep going if you don't want to darling." his arms are bent behind him, holding himself up. you shake your head, "i want you will, please take me?" another smile on his face as he replies "how can i say no to a sweet thing like you?" his hands rub your back gently as you lean down, now repeating his trail of kisses and bruises to him. as you do so, you shift down off the bed and onto your knees, pulling his jeans down his legs. you can see the growing wet patch near his tip, and he sucks in a breath as you palm him over his boxers. pulling those down too you see his cock spring out and slap against his tummy. he's not very thick, but what he lacks in thickness he makes up for in inches. you wrap your hand around it and stroke it tentatively, watching his eyes clench shut as you kitten lick the tip. "who's being a tease now love?" he jokes, right before he bites back a moan due to you licking down a particular vein, then taking the older man's member in your mouth. his hand makes its way down to your head where his fingers tangle in your hair, making a makeshift ponytail for you. he helps create a steady rhythm, bucking his hips while you keep your mouth open, until he eventually thrusts a little too hard, his large cock hitting the back of your throat. his eyes roll back as he moans, then he quickly pulls out, "'m sorry darling. did i hurt you?" you shook your head no, and to further prove him wrong you took him down as far as you could go, sucking and slowly bobbing your head. "fuck, just like that love. don't stop."

as he got close, he pulled himself out of your mouth. "normally i would return the favor, but i just can't wait to be inside you." will helped you off your knees and back and onto the bed. your jaw ached as he flipped up your skirt, seeing your frilly panties soaked, "all this just for me darling? you got this wet just from sucking my cock?" you could feel his calloused fingers from the flimsy material, whining for more contact. will pulled your panties down and flung them somewhere in the room. "you poor thing, all worked up. don't worry your pretty little head love, i'll take care of you." his thumb rubbed slow circles on your clit as he pushed himself into your hole. "s'fucking tight darling, feels so good."

his hips crashed against yours, the sounds of skin against skin filling the room. your moans of "fuck, will. dont stop." being music to his fucking ears. he leaned down to kiss you as he drilled into you, each thrust harder than the last. he brought his hand back to your sweet spot, rubbing at a speed to match his pace. you always thought he'd be skilled with his fingers but you never could imagine like this. his pace grew frantic and sloppy, eager to chase his release. “come on love, cum for me.” he said, feeling your walls tighten as you grew close to your own.

your back arches off the bed, eyes wide as will fucks you through your orgasm. “such a good girl, look so beautiful cumming on my cock.” he kisses you sweetly, and pulls out. stroking himself until he finishes on your stomach. after running to the bathroom to grab a washcloth, he gently cleans you off, being sure to be mindful of your sensitive area. flopping on the bed next to you he smiles and says “i don’t normally do this, but you’re just so beautiful i couldn’t help myself. tomorrow, let me take you on a proper date.” he kisses your cheek and you agreed. he pulled you close and held your waist. “you know, you don’t have to leave. please stay?”

and the whole night was spent talking and cuddling. you did eventually leave to get ready for your date with him, and he was a perfect gentleman. he drove you home and waited outside for you.

“so, darling, where are we off too?”

thank you so much for reading! as always my inbox is open for requests 💚

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot smut #wilbur soot headcanons #mcyt x reader

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tteokdoroki · 1 year

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*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— earbuds, my love + yoichi isagi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — a single train ride has you sharing your headphones and your feelings with your long time crush, yoichi isagi.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, fluff, friends to lovers, love confessions, mutual pining, pro player!isagi, fem!reader - not beta read !

⭑ words — 1K.

⭑ notes — third fic queued for aali's away time, one of my many isagi wips! he's literally ceo of friends to lovers ngl !! i love him so bad... enjoy my lurvs - m.list ✩

“this song makes me feel like i’m falling in love with someone.”

isagi glances up at you from his phone, no longer shuffling the playlist that you’re both listening to. you’re looking out of the window, your feet propped up on the back of the seat in front of you, your head resting on your closed fist. you miss the way he flushes red.

“do you want to keep listening to it then?” he mumbles softly, thumb hovering over the slip button and his voice just barely above a whisper. you almost don’t hear you despite the fact that you’re sharing headphones and only have one ear-bud in while he takes the other.

this time, you tilt your head away from the window and the scenery passing by to lock eyes with your childhood best friend. “no, s’okay,” you say, your voice equally as low. “you can change it if you’d like.” your facial expression is tranquil, the swell of your lips pressed into an appreciative smile and your eyes sparkling with the sunlight that glitters outside of your moving train.

isagi’s nerves quickly get the better of him and he breaks eye contact, swallowing thickly before looking away with his own smile (mostly for himself).

“i think we’ll keep listening to it.”

you’re both on the train from the bustling city of tokyo back to the tiny town you both grew up in. with the off-season approaching, japan’s beloved striker had finally managed to get some time away from the blue lock team to visit his parents, and you were off on your university’s allotted spring-break.

this was the first time, in what felt like forever, that your calendars were synced up.

your bond with isagi had always been strong — from the very first moment you’d met, back in middle school when he’d kicked a soccer ball straight into your lunch and then instantly offered to buy you a new one. impossible to separate, you were joined at the hip right up until he left for blue lock. these days, your paths rarely cross and while isagi’s career in soccer bloomed like you always knew it would — you went the more traditional route of life and found passion in your own university degree.

after some moments of quiet, aside from the children crying in their mother’s arms, teenagers gossiping on their way home from junior high and the calls from the attendant manning the snack cart — isagi speaks up, shyly. “who…who would you be in love with? yanno…because of this song…”

“some guy, i’ve known him for years.”

“does he know…how you feel about him?” you shake your head and isagi presses you again. “have you tried telling him?”

“gods no, yoichi!” you wave him off almost too quickly — curling in on yourself like a highschool girl handing her crush a confession letter or chocolates on white day. perhaps because this is exactly like that. you’ve liked him, loved him, for as long as you can remember. he makes your skin hot and your thoughts a mess and when isagi’s nearby you hardly remember who you are.

and he hardly realises how lovesick you’ve been for him over the years. it would be too embarrassing to admit that you have a raging crush on one of japan’s favourite athletes.

“why not?”

“because…if he felt the same he would have noticed by now.” you answer, trying to shut down the conversation. “i’ve been obvious with my feelings. the ball’s been in his court for a while.”

“maybe he’s just oblivious.” isagi keeps going and in the cramped space of your train seats you feel hot under the collar — your nerves shaking under the pressure.

you’re given a brief moment of relief when the attendant on the snack cart stops for the couple seated opposite you. they seem happy and in love, it makes your heart twist.

the train jolts, pushing the attendant into isagi, who then topples into you — invading your space once more, causing heat to build up under your skin.

“h-he’s a way too smart for that.”

“maybe…he’s unsure? maybe he doesn’t understand your signals?”

the song you’re listening too changes as you pull into the next station.

“or maybe he doesn’t love me, yoichi!” you snap, turning your head away so fast that the ear-bud slips from your ears and the wires are left dangling between the warmth of isagi’s body and your own. you try to sit still, fighting off burning, frustrated tears — lucky that no one’s heard your outburst over the busy ambience of the train. “believe me, i’ve held out hope for it.”

“but i do love you.” he snaps back, grabbing you by the wrist so that you’re forced to look at him. isagi’s eyes are wide and deep, swirling in their hypnotising shade of blue with an emotion you don’t recognise seeing on him. love. “maybe you’re the one who’s dumb enough not to have noticed. maybe i’ve been too shy or too caught up with soccer to say so. but i love you. i want that song to make you feel like you’re in love with me.”

“o-oh…yoichi i—“ your eyes widen, then soften all at once and you feel yourself melting fast — as if all of your dreams have come true. “i don’t know what to say…”

the tips of his ears are bright pink, the hue blooming across his cheeks like they’re roses in bloom. yoichi chews on his lower lip nervously before shoving the right bud of the headphones back into your ear. “just say you like me back ‘nd we’ll leave it at that for now, okay?” he mumbles like a teenager, very much unlike the confident, cocky isagi who everyone fears on the pitch.

wisps of a grin tug at the corners of your lips as you reach out and grab his larger hand with yours — giving it a squeeze. “alright then, yoichi,” you say, leaning over to kiss the warmth of his cheeks. “i like you too.” his eyes go wide.

this is all silly and new for the both of you — having been in love with one another for years without saying. you’ll have a lot to talk about once you reach his parents’ house, how you’ll make this work with his soccer career and your new life in the big city, what you want this to be, who you’ll tell. but for now you try not to dwell on it, letting your head flop to isagi’s shoulder and his on top of yours, sharing headphones and listening to songs that made him fall in love with you.

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi x reader #isagi x you #isagi fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock x you #bllk x you #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi x you #isagi yoichi fluff #yoichi isagi x reader #yoichi isagi x you #yoichi isagi fluff #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock fluff #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

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guccifrog · 3 months

Text

WRONG NUMBER P9

matt sturniolo x reader

the long awaited part 9 lmao

y/n pov

The throbbing pain in my lower abdomen was unbearable. it felt like someone was stabbing and twisting knives into my guts. I groaned, rolling over onto my side, my fingers digging into the soft cushion of the couch as if it were the source of my pain. My cramps had been relentless all day. I sighed, flicking the remote control aimlessly as I scrolled through the channels, hoping to find something - anything - that would distract me from the constant ache in my gut.

Finally, I could take it no longer. I reached down to grab my trusty heating pad, the one that had been my constant companion during countless nights of cramps and discomfort. But as my fingers closed around the familiar contours of the pad, I felt a strange, wet warmth seeping through the fabric. Confused, I lifted the pad to my face, only to find that it was leaking. And when I looked down, I saw the source of the problem, tiny, delicate holes, each one no bigger than a pinprick, marring the once-smooth surface of the pad.

I stared in disbelief at the damage made by none other than my beloved pet chick, Twinkie. I was furious. Not only was I in pain, but now I had to deal with a destroyed heating pad and an escaped baby chicken.

I let out a sigh of frustration as I put the damaged heating pad down on the coffee table, deciding to continue flipping through the channels. As I scrolled through the endless array of programming, my mind wandered back to the conversation I had with Matt earlier. He had insisted that I give him my address, but he didn't want to tell me why. Even though I knew it was a little risky considering he was just a stranger that I met a month ago through accidentally typing my mom's number wrong, I still gave it to him. Maybe it was because there was something about him that made me feel…I don't know. Safe?

I doubt his intentions are bad but even if they were he's still cute, I wouldn't mind getting killed or kidnapped by a hot guy, to be honest.

Just as I'm lost in thought, suddenly the doorbell rings. I groan, rolling my eyes. It's probably just another deliveryman with the wrong address again. I hesitantly get up, my cramps forgotten for a moment as I pad barefoot across the living room to answer the door. When I open it, I'm greeted by a delivery guy holding a large box and a bouquet of flowers.

"hate to break it to you but you got the wrong house lil man" I mutter, starting to close the door. But just before it clicks shut, he thrusts the box into my hands. "Wait, wait! These are for you! I'm sure I got the right house" he insists, handing me the flowers as well. I look down at the box, noticing that it's addressed to me. Confused, I take the flowers and box, shut the door, and sit down on the couch again.

Carefully, I unwrap the flowers, setting them down on the coffee table. They're tulips, my favorite. The box, however, is a mystery. I lift the lid, revealing a beautiful, handmade card with a simple message: "For panties girl, hope you like it!" My heart skips a beat as I realize it's from Matt.

As I continue to rummage through the box, my excitement grows. There are all sorts of things inside, a pair of soft cotton Hello Kitty socks, a box of chocolates, and even a huge cinnamoroll plushie.

I gasp as I reach the very bottom of the box, and when I uncover what's hidden there, my heart skips a beat. It's a pair of pink, hello kitty panties. The material feels silky smooth against my fingers, and there's even a tiny, Hello Kitty-shaped tag hanging from the waistband. I can't help but blush, this man whore has outdone himself.

As I continue to stare at the panties, I realize that they're the same size as the ones I've been wearing. I hadn't mentioned that to him, but he must have known.

My heart begins to race as I put the box aside, not wanting to think about how much this gesture means to me. I know I shouldn't get my hopes up, but it's hard not to when someone goes out of their way to do something so thoughtful.

I turn my attention back to the flowers, inhaling their sweet scent. They're perfect, just like everything else.

As I'm lost in thought, suddenly, there's a commotion behind me. I turned around just in time to see Twinkie, the adorable chick I'd been taking care of, jumping onto the couch. Before I can react, he hops over to the coffee table and snatches the card Matt had made.

"Hey!" I exclaim, reaching for him. "That's not yours!"

Twinkie, however, is too quick for me. He hops over to the kitchen, clutching the card tightly in his beak. I follow him, trying not to lose my balance as I navigate around the island. He flies up onto the counter, his feathers ruffled in triumph.

"Twinkie give that back!" I plead, reaching out to him. He cocks his head to the side, regarding me with one beady eye before taking off again, darting around the kitchen.

suddenly, the phone rings, causing me to jump in surprise. It's Matt's number on the caller ID. My heart races as I hesitantly answer the phone, not even bothering to chase Twinkie again. "Hello?" I manage to croak out.

There's a moment of silence before he speaks. "Hey, Panties Girl," he says, his voice low and smooth. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything." I can feel my cheeks flush, and my heart begins to race. "No, no, it's just…um…Twinkie…" I trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

he chuckles. "I take it he's still jumping around?" I can hear the amusement in his voice, and it makes me smile despite the chaos around me. "Yeah, he's just being his usual adorable self," I reply, trying to sound more confident than I feel.

Matt laughs, and the sound warms my insides. "Well, just wanted to make sure you got the flowers and everything." He pauses for a moment, and I can almost picture him grinning into the phone. "So, do you like them?" he asks, his voice low and husky. I feel a shiver run down my spine as I take in the scent of the tulips, their vibrant colors almost too bright to look at.

"They're…they're beautiful," I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you, Matt. They're perfect." There's a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and I can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks again.

"You're welcome, y/n. I'm glad you like them." His voice is warm and soothing, making me want to lean against something solid. "And I'm glad you like the panties too, from the sounds of it." He said a hint of playfulness in his voice.

"They're…really nice," I manage to say, feeling my cheeks heat up again.

taglist :

@nickdevora @chrisfavoritepepsi @sunsetsturniolos @littlebookworm803 @sturniozo @sturniolooooo @athaliahxoxo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ev3rgreenxtrees @nonamegirlxsturniolo @crybabycat1 @mooniethesimp31 @ducksturniolo @ifilwtmfc @pepsiimaxx @sleepysturnss @lustfulslxt @ilovemattsworld @hrt-attack @flowerxbunnie @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @secret-sturniolo @iluvmeeen @that-general-simp @swangelss @familynotfandom @fuckshitslover @styles-sturniolo

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shootingstarwritings · 3 months

Text

First Impressions

Coming home from another exhausting day, Lydia threw herself onto her couch and screamed into a cushion.

“Hey Lyd,” her husband Carlos said as he came into the living room. Chewing on some leftover chocolate cake from the fridge, he sat down on the other side of the sofa, taking one more bite and swallowing before asking, “‘nother rough day?” The crumbs were probably all over the living room by now… to Lydia's immense chagrin.

“The hell do you think?” said Lydia, the pillow muffling her voice. She looked up and glared at her annoying beloved. “More asshole clients not interested in my business proposals for like the 12th time this week, motherfuckers that lose any and all interest as soon as they hear my voice over the phone, and every smug prick that landed a deal just telling me, ‘Just work hard, this is a meritocracy! Nobody thinks less of you cuz you’re a woman.’” She made sure to put on her ‘bro-voice’ as she regurgitated the same garbage everyone of her male peers that managed to keep getting sales said to her.

“Damn, I’m sorry honey.” Carlos shifted over and began to massage her back. Lydia let out a low moan as Carlos worked his magical hands once more. The knots in her back slowly untangled and her head began to clear. It was so difficult to think with all the stress causing her head to turn all soupy. “I just wish there was something I could do.”

“... There is something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Oh?”

“You’re on vacation starting tomorrow, right? Three weeks?”

“Yeah…?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.” Carlos continued asking, but Lydia insisted nothing was wrong. She also had to make sure that she would get out of work after just a few more days. All she needed to do was meet with a few more clients and they could enjoy the summer together.

Carlos still seemed incredulous, but eventually he relented and walked back to his office. “You’re the best, honey,” said Lydia before he shut the door behind him. Carlos looked over his shoulder and beamed at her with a loving glint in his eyes. Because of his job as a programmer and debugger, most of his work could be done at home. The rest of his time was spent taking care of some errands that Lydia was either too tired or simply hated doing (mainly cooking and taking care of any bugs or spiders).

It also made it convenient whenever Lydia needed to take a break from herself, without his knowledge of course.

The rest of the day was spent recuperating from the day’s stress. A few rhythm game rounds and a scalding hot shower was enough for Lydia to regain her upbeat and chipper personality. Around midnight, the two of them cuddled in the bed.

They had been married for months, but somehow holding each other beneath the sheets never got old. In fact, it somehow got more personal and intimate with the passing months. Light kisses on skin, stroke and caressing flesh that smelled like home, and the faint yet steady heartbeat never failed to relax Lydia’s mind and allow her to comfortably slip into a lengthy slumber.

Tonight was the sole exception.

“Mind if I’m the big spoon this time?” Lydia whispered to a half-asleep Carlos. Opening just one tired eye, Carlos just mumbled something and nodded before flipping over. Lightly tittering to herself, Lydia wrapped her arms around Carlos and squeezed him tight. She rubbed her face against his back and took a whiff. Chestnuts--the scent of his favorite conditioner. Lydia was truly glad she had introduced such a world of bathroom supplies to him.

“You’re the perfect man,” Lydia muttered, her voice muffled as she buried her face into the space between his neck and shoulder. “You won’t remember, but I almost feel bad for doing this.”

Carlos was barely even able to let out a questioning hum before Lydia’s body began to slip inside of him. Carlos let out a gasp as his body tightened in response to the sensual penetration. It wasn’t too dissimilar to the first time Lydia had pegged him. “Huh—! Whu—! Oh…WOAH!"

Lydia didn’t stop her possession. She thrust into Carlos, her petite yet rotund form slipping into Carlos’s thinner and hairier body. Carlos let out muffled moans as she shoved his face into a pillow with her free arm. He could do nothing as Lydia humped her hips further into his own fatter and hairier hips. His legs kicked and convulsed on the bed as he could hardly struggle.

“I love you, Carlos,” Lydia whispered, licking his sweaty neck. “I just need to borrow you for a few…” She nibbled on his ear lobe. Most of her legs had already melted into his. Not too long afterward, she pushed her chest into his own. She giggled at the sound of Carlos’ long, drawn-out moans as her boobs became replaced with his pectorals. “It’s nice being a man from time to time. So big and hairy…” she muttered to him.

Carlos’ continued to moan, breathing deeply as Lydia fucked herself into him. Soon, she was comfortable enough to drop her free arm and force it into his own. “Haah…! Haaahh… you’re a kinky one, Lyd…” he said in between fast, tense moans.

“I know, baby,” she said, half her head already phasing through his wider back. “I know.” As the last of Lydia melded into Carlos, he let out a long moan and collapsed onto his back. His hips thrust into the air over and over as Lydia acclimated herself inside of him. Each limb was dangerously full.

“HAAAH! H-Holy shit… I-I’m… I’m--!” Then, with one last hump, Carlos’ cock exploded all over his boxers. “Ahh… Ahh… J-Just… Just do whatever you want, babe…” he said in between labored pants as he lost consciousness. Although it felt like a completely new experience, it was truly the third or fourth time this had happened. And just like the previous times, Carlos would believe that it was just a strange and hazy dream from a mind that needed to be a little more open to experimenting in the bedroom.

At least, that was what Lydia would tell him.

Speaking of…

Lydia let out a moan as she felt her borrowed muscles and the familiar weight of Carlos’ body. She stretched her toned and hairy limbs with a little giggle. It wasn’t fair that Carlos always got to feel like that whenever he woke up. It was part of the reason why Lydia would always rub up against him in the morning. She just couldn’t get enough of the muscle and hair. However, as the giddiness of yet another successful possession began to wear off, Lydia found herself yawning and slowly drifting off to sleep. Taking over another’s body always took quite a bit of energy, for both the possessor and the host body.

Tomorrow was a new day for Lydia.

“Great, glad to hear it!” Lydia said with Carlos’ deep and friendly voice as she spoke to her fourth client.

“And I’ll follow this meeting up with an email with more details of the deal. Mm-hmm, mm-hmm,” she said, giving Carlos’ cock a nice and firm stroke. None of her clients had any idea that the man they were speaking to was Lydia’s husband. Being able to roleplay and pass off as her husband to these strangers, knowing that she was able to fool these sexist pigs that would’ve sneered and turned up their noses at just the sound of her voice, light up Lydia’s borrowed loins. “Thank you so much for your time and have a great day!” Lydia forced Carlos to say before hanging up.

She threw Carlos’ head back and let out a loud, unbecoming moan as her borrowed cock grew to full mast in her grip. She threw an arm back and took a whiff of Carlos’ natural musk. “Mmm, Carlos. Just another day of me inside and we can get our vacation started. I just have a few more clients to talk to.” She chuckled as she flexed a bit more in her husband’s body. Lydia was already done with all the clients in her schedule. She had some privacy for the rest of the day…

“Oh, Carlos…!” she said as she began to explore her husband’s body once more.

#male possession #male body possession #f2m possession #husband possession

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brandycranby · 4 months

Text

ce characters + their skill at wrapping presents (based on technique, style, and enthusiasm) 🎁✨

crocheting a last minute gift rn hehe

steve: 9.5/10. the military precision comes in clutch when it's time to measure out wrapping paper. if he's not doing the wrapping himself, he's at your elbow with tape strips and scissors when you need them. gift bags? hell no, back in his day, presents were wrapped (ok old man 🙄💕) heh expect steve to come home with half a dozen new tubes of gift wrap because he just can't resist the cuteness (target snoopy paper, beloved 🥺💕)

andy: 7/10. if he did it himself that is 😌 this is a man of experience and few close relatives. the holidays are a quiet uneventful time for him (besides the odd party) and he spends it with you, showering you in gifts and treats for the new year. most of those treats come with complimentary gift wrapping that he'll most definitely take advantage of hehe if not, he's a sparkly gift bag kinda guy

ari: 8/10. he doesn't have much skill at getting those sharp corners on a wrapped box but can he curl a ribbon or what? great color sense, he doesn't look like it but he can tell a french silver from classic silver 😌💕 whatta man whatta man. eight presents though, that's a lot of gift ideas to come up with. defaults to cash and gift cards for some nights, slaps a ribbon on top and adds mesh bag of chocolate coins and calls it a night

johnny: 6/10. look, he's a guy. still, he's a guy with a big sister. sue comes over and they make a night in of it. wrapping paper is everywhere, someone gets hit with a tube, nothing's lit on fire but reed's gift is singed and labeled "to: asshole". it's probably just fruit of the loom boxers. your gift though? he keeps adding stocking stuffers until sue makes him use a wicker basket to hold everything bc "it's chic, johnny, and a paper bag can't hold all of that."

ransom: 5/10 +3 effort points. ONCE HE TRIES?? HE TRIES!!! i mean not for his parents' gifts, he probably amazon shipped those to their house. but he'll pull out the ribbons, the glitter, the tinsel, the special wrapping paper just for you 🥹💕 ransom doesn't really Get It, not until you have a day of present prep with him. cups of hot drinks and a movie on in the back, that sort of warm nostalgia that's so familiar yet distant from what he's known 🥺surprisingly good eye for it

jake: 4/10. oh lord he tries. he tries so damn hard. the living room is a wreck, there's tape everywhere and mismatched wrapping paper. he measures a length of paper too small and worries about cutting another one because you like that paper!! you'd probably cry if he wasted it!! so he takes a discard piece and kinda... band-aids it together... oh baby 😔 also how do you wrap plushies??? (put it in a box, jake, please put it in a box)

curtis: 7/10. solid score because he goes for maximum efficiency and doesn't take a break until every single present is completely hidden in gift wrap, tissue paper, ribbons, bows, and a gift tag. would be a 10 if he was a little more fancy and a little less practical about his present style. but he has the assembly line efficiency and it helps you get everything done in one day so kudos 😊 points off for getting suspicious when you take a long pee break tho

---

since i've started writing this hc list, i've redone my amigurumi THREE TIMES. why do i do this to myself. i also wrapped last minute gifts like a jake today heh

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ataraxiaspainting · 4 months

Text

It's Cold Outside.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Synopsis: A stranger has weaseled his way into every aspect of your life.

Warnings: Yandere themes, non-con/dub-con (the reader is under the influence of aphrodisiacs but non-consensually), the reader is described as AFAB and uses she/her pronouns respectfully, threats of violence, stalking, manipulation, Chrollo the Creepster, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 2.2k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

(You’re The) Devil in Disguise by Elvis Presley

Salvatore by Lana Del Ray

Who Is She? by I Monster

Kiss Of Fire by Georgia Gibbs

Money, Money, Money by ABBA

Sex with a Ghost by Teddy Hyde

4:00A.M. by Taeko Onuki

How I’d Kill by Cowboy Malfoy

Sonne by Rammstein

The Great Gig in the Sky by Pink Floyd

“I say let the world go to hell, but I should always have my tea.” — Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from the Underground

*~*~*~*

i. “Technicolor worlds with white clouds are bound to be destroyed by silver snow.”

When you step into your house, it is like you are instantly transported back to a year ago. Everything in sight, from the walls to the shelves, has decorations of some kind, whether going all out with the kitchen table having an entire feast of delicious holiday treats made by your grandparents, or just a green and red painting of a Christmas tree placed in your older sister’s usually monochromatic room. Perhaps the painting is yet another way she proves that she can somewhat react well to requests to change her room a little bit. Even if the painting is on the farthest wall from the door and is partially hidden from view by the many anime figurines and books larger than your head. Your mother claims that it is a miracle she convinced her to put up any holiday decorations in her room at all and thus doesn’t bother her further.

Each room also has a different festive scent, your younger sister’s room having a hot chocolate scent mixed with the smell of piled up dishes on her desk, most coming from when she was ‘helping’ your grandparents cook by ‘testing to make sure the food isn't poison’.

How heroic of her to sacrifice herself for the family.

Your room, you think, looks much better than your sisters’ combined, having decked it out to the maximum by taking out all of your Halloween decorations and replacing them with Christmas ones. It took you the whole weekend, sure, and caused you to break the bank, but your love for accessories outweighs your logic and reason by quite a lot. Your beloved record player is back on your table that also simultaneously houses your television and jewelry playing Elvis Presley’s Blue Christmas. A wreath larger than your torso is on your door and your room smells like all the holiday air fresheners you found in your closet. Pine, peppermint, orange, lemon, cranberry… all mix to make a beautiful festive scent unmatched by even your parents’ bedroom. Everything is how it should be, and how it always is every year.

Well, almost. A man named Chrollo, a man who gives you anything but comfort, has been invited to your family-only yearly Christmas party. When your father, who has always been too protective of you and your sisters and never lets you spend time with the opposite gender, told you that Chrollo of all people would be attending, you tried to argue otherwise. You tried telling him that none of you had known Chrollo for so long, but he had rebutted Chrollo’s lie that you had known him for over a year with you two developing a close bond. You realized it was too late then, and Chrollo had charmed your entire family, with even your older sister always having a smile on her face whenever she saw him at her workplace.

ii. “Like actors, each snowflake has a different role to play. They sing along with every step of a boot as a deceitful way to express their pain.”

The moment the doorbell chimes, its piercing resonance assaults your eardrums and causes an unsettling shiver to course through your spine.

You find yourself in an unsettling situation as your family eagerly awaits, and to your dismay, you are the designated individual tasked with the responsibility of opening the door. You two are such good friends, aren’t you? We wouldn’t want to get in the way of your bonding time.

You want to say he is lying, to tell them everything, every threat he has told you, him meaning them or otherwise. But as soon as they know of what Chrollo really and truly is, they will meet a painful end; that being pushed onto train tracks, their drink being laced with a poison that destroys the body from the inside out, or having nails thrusted into their bloody palms as they hang on their bedroom wall as you look in horror. Elton, Anya, and Robert all being examples of such… You don’t want to think of the bodies just waiting to rot around the Riverbend, your fault or otherwise.

You also don’t want to drown in this river. A river inhospitable to any aquatic life whatsoever, and only harbors a barrier of carnivorous plants that eat those who dare come close. Butterworts, large lilac purple ones that feel like they have been dipped in the most tempting butter mixed with forbidden fruit and honey produced by none other than the queen bee herself. Are you the fly, or are they? You have no idea, and you don’t want to find out.

“Hello.” Your response is concise and devoid of warmth, with a noticeable absence of your usual cheerful demeanor evident in your expression and tone.

Chrollo's smile is so sinister that even the most depraved devil's grin would pale in comparison, with all the large gift bags behind him swinging like a tail.

“Ah, [First]. Happy holidays. No need to be so cold, you know. The snow is already doing that for you. So-”

Despite your strong desire to slam the door in his face, you choose to step aside and allow him entry, in an attempt to silence him.

“Put the gifts by the tree by the kitchen table. The white table and not the black one.”

However, rather than fulfilling your expectations, all he does is elicit a burst of laughter so unique that it resonates within you, while discreetly handing over the most colossal gift bag, compelling you to accept it as if under some intangible force.

“Just a little something. I know it’s customary to wait until later but… I simply can’t help myself. Open it whenever you get the chance, dearest.”

…He means right now, in your room, doesn’t he? Perhaps he installed a camera in your room as you slept, he has certainly threatened to do that before. Or maybe he will just spy on you through the little space between the door and the frame. He has done that before, after all.

…

You resisted the urge to scream when you saw a picture of your mother sleeping blissfully, the camera focused on her ring finger with the caption Should I take another souvenir? written on it, but the card, as beautiful as it appeared with a lace envelope and your name written in script on the card’s cover above Chrollo’s, proved to be even more of a challenge. When you read the words on it, your heart plunges so deeply that you fear your gastric acid will erode it.

Save your tears. For even if you cry to the whole world, it will never be enough to make me disappear. Meet me outside in five minutes, and make whatever excuse you deem necessary. No exceptions.

As you begin to read further, a wave of fragrant and delicate floral scents envelops your senses, instantly igniting a warm sensation in your head, leaving no time for contemplation.

Trying to ignore your slight dizziness, you read the rest of the card.

Just a little something to make sure you do this. We wouldn’t want your family to see you in… what state you are about to be in, do we?

…Just what did he do to you?

iii. “With the burden of wintertime ending, nature spends time creating beautiful trees and flowers. To accompany them, she makes twisted vines and weeds, for she knows that without them there cannot be balance or purpose in being comfortably numb.”

You were on your back, on his bed, within what felt like one second, not remembering the car ride over to his place, your wrists pinned beneath the strength of one of Chrollo's hands while he looked down at you within another, his other undoing the tie of the bandana on his forehead and showing you, for the very first time, of the cross tattoo underneath it.

All you can do is watch your whole world slow down and be replaced by a dream.

A blissful and sweet dream, as sugary as saccharine and as dissolvable as cotton candy, that is a veil and covers your eyes from what is happening; until it is too late, until you feel some of his fingers go into the band of your skirt and start pulling and pulling, downward, and that is when terror went to combat with your unwanted lust.

“...What… are… you… doing…? Chroooooo…” Your words slur as your mind buzzes with euphoria, and you can feel every sensation in vivid detail, every touch and every breath feeling heightening and intoxicating. As much as you want to, you can’t tell him to stop, not now.

“Shh, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” At least that is what you think he said, because as Chrollo spoke, you struggled to decipher his words amidst the haze that enveloped your mind. Reality fragments, leaving you unable to muster the strength to plead for him to cease. “It will feel oh so very good, I promise. Very, very nice and very, very good.” With that, you come to realize the wetness between your rubbing thighs, amidst the cloudiness and the larger-than-life headache that rips your skull apart. “Do you trust me?” The voice sounds almost heartfelt, not as intimate as it could be, but it was still more than enough for your hands to cling to him and pull him in closer, faster, so he could relieve you of this hell. “I will assume that that is a yes.” His hands move to the two buttons on your blouse, undoing them with ease, softly, gently, like it was a baby bird.

“Faster… faster…!” You feel like a man who hasn’t seen water on any day of their life, and if you lose the location of the oasis you are sure to never find it again.

Like a man lost in the desert, you choke on imaginary quicksand, soon to drown if water does not save you.

“Aw, such a precious little thing, aren’t you?” You are gently flipped over in an instant and he unbuckles your bra, quickly.

“If you love me… really love me… make me feel better… please.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” He flips you over again and his fingers lower to your panties, pulling them down from your trembling legs, just like he did with your skirt. “You trust me after all, don’t you?”

You cry out yes after utterly desperate yes, as he watches, his smile getting wider as he starts undoing his belt. He puts a finger on your lips after he has heard enough, shushing you gently.

“Then trust me when I say that this, my dear, is for your own good.”

Beneath the surface, whether it be shallow or not, you have no desire to comprehend his intentions.

You don’t want to know. You just want this to go away.

iv. “Through discoveries, there is a hint of madness that enters our minds. Only then can we see our world’s colors change from squid ink and bone to begonias and finches.”

Chrollo undoes his belt, then his pants, and then his boxers. You focus on his face to ignore what is currently nearly touching the side of the mattress by a hair or two, hard and enlarged and slightly pink and-

He takes off his shirt button after button, much, much, much slower than how he took off the rest of his clothing. There exists a deep-seated anger within you, yet it is accompanied by a sense of gratitude, as both you and he are aware of your mutual aversion towards this situation.

Despite both of you being aware that this is not your desired outcome, he still kisses you, gently, full of warmth, and tenderly. What you truly desire is to satisfy the ache within you. But he won’t give it to you yet, will he?

Time seems to drag on as his kisses get faster, and more hungry, with his tongue essentially becoming another of your muscles, wet, and neither wanted nor unwanted.

Eventually, you get what you want, after enough begging for him to just get it over with. At the beginning, there is a gentle caress resembling a warm and velvety rose petal. However, as time progresses, the touch becomes increasingly forceful until his fingers enter. But it does not hurt. Should you be thankful for that? At least he is being nice.

He starts thrusting, and that also does not hurt. No soreness. You won't feel any discomfort until your eyes meet, causing a sensation that almost makes you want to throw up, were it not for the illicit satisfaction this dreadful encounter brings. It's a peculiar kind of pain, one that lingers like a ghost stealthily gliding through walls, catching you off guard before you can comprehend its presence.

Nothing hurts, and that in of itself gives you the most pain anyone could imagine.

v. “Heat lightning gives way to summer storms and verdant wind. This makes for a hauntingly beautiful melody of ripples and thunder.”

“…And this maiden, she lived with no other thought than to love and be loved by me.”

vi. “The dead, fallen leaves of autumn come in many shades from bright red to a dull brown. They flow with the wind from one place to the next as invitations from those who passed on to the living.”

#TIME TO WRITE SIN..........#(sweats nervously)#author aya #yandere #yandere x reader #hxh #phantom troupe #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #not sfw #yandere hxh x reader #hxh x reader

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deanbrainrotwritings · 6 months

Text

— A PROCLAMATION

SUMMARY : stanford era dean is a fuckable little sub and i like writing him that way forever. edging him here, actually

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : mallory (oc), daphne (oc)

WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw(18+), unprotected sex (we all know dean is safer that, but it’s ok for fiction), virgin!reader, oral sex, spanking dean, sub!dean, feeling all these emojis: 😖😮‍💨😭💀🤣😔🤭😩😧😆😫🥺😆😋😟😣😳🫣🫢🫡🫠😵‍💫🤤🥴🤧🤠🥹

WORD COUNT : 11k

A/N : title from close your eyes’ song. my beloved, breedable, stanfordera!dean. high school me was horny af, but for dean specifically, which is hilarious… i removed a character bc she contributed nothing to the plot LMAO xx

Dean chewed on his lip as he gazed at Y/N. She wasn’t even drinking, she never did, she was eyeing her best friend Daphne as she flirted with an attractive older man. Dean watched Y/N shake her head, an amused smile growing on her pretty lips when her glittering eyes suddenly found Dean’s and he nearly stopped breathing.

Her gaze was like a magnet and he was just a weak piece of metal, attracted to her only. Her adorable eyes, soft and warm like the blankets his mother used to buy him when he was a kid, made him warm all over, too. He melted like delicate chocolate in a hot mouth, and his face suddenly heated up.

She smiled at Dean and he gave her a little smile in return. Her cheeks were flushed and adorable, her lips a shade darker from her nervously chewing on them. Maybe what made it more difficult to be normal around her was the outfit Daphne made her wear. She was so hot. “What?” She asked, laughing shyly, she scooted closer to him and Dean tensed a little, watching her soft strands brush against the top of her shoulders.

The bar was a little loud, filled with chatter and balls clicking against each other from the pool table, laughter from people, and some old love song playing from the jukebox. It wasn’t Y/N’s favourite thing to do, it was definitely not where she’d want to be, he knew that.

He subconsciously moved his hand up and brushed her hair back slightly, fixing a unruly strand of her hair and her face softened at the action. Usually, Dean thought she was the cutest girl he’d laid his eyes on, but today she looked sexy. She was elegant and devastatingly beautiful, graceful in ways most hunters weren’t, Dean spent a lot of his free time admiring her or thinking about her.

“Sorry,” he murmured, freezing as his fingers brushed against her warm cheek.

“Do you think if I sit closer to you that guy over there will stop staring at me?” She asked suddenly, reaching out to touch his hand. Dean blinked at her small hand covering his, watched her tilt her head subtly to the side and he slowly let his gaze wander to where a man was sitting, glancing at her every once in a while as his friend talked to him.

Dean looked away quickly, jealousy burning in his chest even though Y/N was clearly uninterested. He moved closer to her, slinging his arm around her shoulders, and her smile widened as she gazed up at him. “This okay, sweetheart?” He asked, feeling his body heat up and electricity suddenly surrounded the air around them as the warm air of her laugh puffed over his neck and made him shiver. She nodded and looked away from him, choosing to play with the label on the bottle of beer he half-drank.

“I shouldn’t have let Daph talk me into wearing this outfit,” she told him quietly. Dean felt his gaze unintentionally fall to her cleavage, the green cropped shirt with lace along the neck and thin straps fit tightly around her torso, outlining her gentle curves. She looked gorgeous, her arms toned and smooth, her collarbones just barely visible to show she ate well, the column of her neck exposed and decorated by a simple gold chain with a little star.

“I think you look beautiful,” he found himself saying. She laughed again, then looked up at him and he smiled nervously as she shook her head. Suddenly everyone started to fade away, all he could see was her beautiful face, feel the warmth radiating from her small body like a little sun, smell the sweet aroma of the expensive perfume her mother bought her. It wafted up to his nose, combined with the delicious smell of honey and jasmine from her hair and skin and he wanted to moan, to lean down and taste her sweet skin.

“I look like all those girls you chase,” she joked. That hurt. His lips parted and he frowned down at her, disheartened. That’s what she thought of him? “Sorry,” she said immediately, staring at him with her eyebrows drawn together cutely, her way of being sincere. “You’re sweet and that was mean,” she chuckled.

Dean moved away a little and she looked at him anxiously, hoping she didn’t ruin his mood, but instead he removed the baby blue flannel he was wearing and placed it over her shoulders. His lean muscles flexed under the white t-shirt he wore and she could only stare at the little freckles on his arm before she smiled again, gazing into his green eyes.

“Thanks, D,” she murmured, putting her arms through the sleeves and smiled down at herself as she closed the front a little to hide her breasts again.

“Yeah, no problem.” He kissed her forehead and she adorably scrunched her nose at his affection, shy. She lifted her shoulder to press her nose against the soft material to find the pleasant smell of Dean’s body. Even Dean’s body heat remained on the shirt for a little and she shivered, then took his arm and returned it to rest around her shoulders.

Dean smiled down at her, feeling his entire body blush even more when she hummed in satisfaction. He dared to look over to where the guy was—who had been staring at Y/N—and he looked at Dean with an awkward, insecure smile on his face. Dean felt triumphant and looked back at Y/N who had peeled away the label from the bottle of beer he had abandoned.

Y/N’s phone buzzed on the table. Y/N stared at it indifferently, but when she looked at Daphne’s name light up on the screen, she grabbed it and opened the message. Dean tried reading what Daphne had messaged to Y/N, but he suddenly realised it was a text in Spanish and only knew the text was about him when he read his name in the middle of the sentence.

Dean watched her blush, and he raised a brow at her reaction curiously as she cleared her throat and closed her phone. “What did Daph say?” He played with her hair, turning slightly to look at her face more clearly.

“She… um, she just said she wasn’t drunk and that going to the guy’s place was entirely her decision.” Dean laughed a little and Y/N smiled at the sound. The air seemed to get thicker around them, and he squeezed her a little in his arms.

“What did she say about me?” He wondered, watching her as her brows went up slightly.

“Uh, just to stay with you ‘cause everyone is ugly,” she chuckled. Dean laughed again and Y/N’s bare knee brushed against his as she shifted next to him. Even over his jeans, he felt voltage travel from that small touch up to his cock and he stiffened, swallowing nervously when she immediately turned to look at him. “Everything okay, Dean?” She asked, not moving her knees away, so it felt like a constant current travelling all over his body and leaving him out of breath.

“Think you’ll be okay if I go to the bathroom for a bit?” He breathed out, starting to remove himself from her. She nervously looked to where the man was and caught his gaze. Dean grabbed her chin gently and forced her to look at him instead. “Don’t look at him, he’ll take it as an invitation,” he warned.

“Oh,” she replied quietly, her cheeks turning pink as Dean distractedly ran his thumb across her bottom lip. Nothing seemed to be getting better, Dean should’ve thought more clearly about his actions because now he was sure he was leaning in, and he couldn’t stop it. Not when her pink lips were parted in surprise and her warm eyes were now looking at his lips as well.

His lips finally touched her soft ones and he felt himself melt against her as her small hands moved to hold his face. The kiss was innocent, perfect, just his lips moulded perfectly between hers and he pulled away nervously. She blinked at him and licked her lips as if checking that the kiss had happened after all from how fleeting it was.

“Sorry, I’ll, uh, I’m gonna go now-” he moved his hand away from her chin and she dropped her hands from his face, frowning as he stared in slight surprise at the tent in his jeans.

“Don’t,” she insisted, her hand landing on his knee and he turned red, nearly flinching at the way the warmth of her touch seeped through his jeans. She looked down to see what he was looking at and blushed even more. “Oh,” she said again, and he felt himself get more embarrassed as he shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m really sorry,” he repeated, and as soon as the words left his mouth the entire front of her body was pressed against his as she kissed him again. He moaned softly in surprise, his hands finding her waist instinctively to hold her close as her arms wrapped around his neck.

“Let's get out of here,” she murmured against his lips. She sucked gently on his bottom lip and his breath hitched as he nodded thoughtlessly. He had no idea where his brain was when she grabbed her phone, his hand, then dragged him out of the noisy bar, into the cold air that knocked a little sense into him now that he was wearing only a t-shirt. “God… you’ve been driving me crazy, Dean.. for so long,” she muttered breathlessly as she walked to his car.

“I-I have?” Dean stuttered, watching her small body ahead of him covered in his big, baby blue flannel. She was so short, the top of her head was slightly under his shoulders and he found her endearing again.

“Yes,” she breathed out, stopping once they got to his car. Dean stared at her for a moment, the cold, evening air biting his cheeks and prickling his skin and she shivered, pulling his flannel closer around her body. “Your keys, D?” She asked and he blushed as he snapped out of his daydream.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and started digging into his pocket where he always had his keys, causing her to laugh quietly, watching him fumble with the keys. Her laugh sounded teasing, a little mocking—prideful—and he shrunk a little as he unlocked the door and felt her cold hand slide up under the front of his shirt. “Shit,” he gasped, shivering as her cold fingers brushed against his nipple. His knees buckled slightly and he held himself with his hand on the roof of his sleek and sexy Impala.

“This okay, D?” She murmured, her other hand moving to unbuckle his belt. He looked around at the lonely, somewhat dark parking lot and then looked down at Y/N’s hand, watching her one hand expertly pull his belt off the buckle.

“You’re so hot,” he rasped, his cock twitching as if it were agreeing with his statement. She chuckled, bringing her other hand to his waist to hold him in place as she popped the button of his jeans without a struggle and carefully zipped it down. His hips involuntarily moved forward as she zipped down carefully and she bit her lip as she grinned at how responsive he was.

He squeezed his eyes shut as she sneaked her hand into his jeans, slowly rubbing at his erection over his boxers in up and down motions. He moaned softly, pressing his forehead against the cold, black metal of his car and she hummed softly when she got a feel of how big he was and pulled her hand out of his jeans.

He whined and she laughed again, pressing a soft kiss against his back. “Get in, pretty boy,” she smacked his ass and he chuckled, the mood becoming light, but still electrified with lust.

Before he could do anything, she started walking around the other side of his car. He watched her with wonder and adoration for a few moments, then came to his senses. He quickly got in and unlocked the door for her from inside, pulling it open just as she got there, greeting her with a playful smile that she returned, her eyes bright and mischievous as she admired his face.

“Thank you, sweetie,” she said flirtatiously. He closed his door and waited for her to close hers before he moved forward and kissed her again, deeper. She smiled against his lips, opening up when he shyly licked between her lips. “God, I’m so wet,” she moaned against his mouth. He pulled away immediately, staring at her with hunger as she licked her lips and rubbed her thighs together.

“Put your seatbelt on,” he told her, putting his own seatbelt on as he turned the Impala on and pulled out of the driveway. He was so relieved that their motel room was nearby, quickly getting out of his car and locking it as soon as she started to exit.

He was on her within seconds, his hands on her hips when he kissed her excitedly, forgetting about his jeans being open but not really caring as pressing himself this close to her hid anything from view. He felt her hands sneak into his back pockets and heard the quiet jingle of keys as he walked her backwards until she gently hit the door.

He didn’t want to move, but it was cold and he was not going to have sex out in the open with her. She deserved better than that and if he had the money, he’d be sleeping with her somewhere with much better ratings.

He pulled away from her lips, letting her turn around quickly to unlock the door and kissed her neck while holding onto her hips and letting her walk into the dark room. Whatever routine check he usually made before re-entering a room, suddenly didn’t register. He kicked the door behind him closed, locking it blindly and heard her throw the keys on the table before she turned the lights on.

He slid his hands up her stomach to her breasts, kneading them gently. She rested her back against his body, letting him touch her, his thumbs swiping gently against her nipples over her shirt. She hummed softly, arching her back as he circled her nipples with light touches, and then rubbed and pinched them gently again.

He liked the weight of them in his hands, the warmth that seeped through the flimsy material against his palm. He rutted against her ass, moaning quietly when he remembered he just needed to tug his jeans down to feel more friction. She moved away from him, panting and turning to face him, her cheeks flushed and adorable.

“You’re so hot, Dean,” she praised, licking her lips as she checked him out, the messy locks of his hair, the pink that suffused across his freckled cheeks, his swollen and red lips, his haphazardly-on jeans. She shrugged his flannel off, leaving it on a nearby chair.

He started to take his shoes off when she did the same, feeling her body immediately pressed against his again. Warm and soft, her hands slid his shirt up, his skin breaking out in goosebumps, until the shirt was hitting the floor and her lips met his. He put his hands on her waist, moving backwards with her while her fingers tangled in his hair.

He was desperate for her. His tongue impatiently invaded her mouth which made her smile, the way his tongue licked at hers, trying to memorise the taste of her with every gentle caress of his tongue, took her breath away. He pulled away slightly, with his hands under her skirt, lowering the soft panties she wore. As they pooled around her ankles, she focused on tugging his jeans down, her lips exploring his chest and his stomach.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of her mouth on his body, the small licks of her wet tongue on his tensing muscles, her teeth scraping along his sensitive skin, and the way she sucked marks on his flesh made him moan softly. He knew he'd have those marks for a while, he wasn’t even planning on covering them up either, he’d probably cum looking at them as he thought of her like he always did.

He opened his eyes when he felt her fingers start to tug his boxers down. She was on her knees, pressing kisses to his hip bones, revealing more and more of his skin down to the dark patch of short hair and finally his cock. “Y/N,” he whispered, his voice full of desire, his eyes searching hers, begging her quietly for anything to bring him pleasure.

“What?” She murmured, lifting her hand up to graze her fingertips along his cock. He gasped, biting his lip, watching his cock bob slightly at the faint touch she gave him. “Dean?” She asked softly, wrapping her hand gently around his cock, her warm breath billowing over the tip of his cock, a bead of precum dripping down the tip. He nearly lost it when her eyes flickered down to see it, licking her lips at the sight before she gazed up at him again.

“Please, please,” he whined, “just do anything, I-” he moaned instead of completing his sentence, the feeling of her warm tongue licking at the tip closed up his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut. As fast as she put her mouth on him, she was pulling away which caused him to open his eyes, confusion pinching his brows together.

She leaned forward again, kissing the tip and moving her lips down to the base. His breath picked up again, his heart beating rapidly in his chest while his knees became weak.

He reached out to brush his fingers across her cheek, curling his fingers around the back of her neck, offering his cock to her mouth. Her stomach clenched watching him do it. Heat pooled between her legs as the hot tip of his cock lightly touched her lips and she opened her mouth to him. A loud moan rumbled in his chest causing her thighs to squeeze shut, aroused by the sounds he was making as she licked and sucked nearly all the way down.

Both hands grasped the side of her face, his thumbs caressing her soft cheeks as she drooled over his cock. She looked beautiful like this, he thought so as she hallowed her cheeks and pulled nearly all the way off to twirl her tongue around the head. She moved her head again, her tongue massaging beneath his cock, driving him crazier, the muscles in his stomach tensing when she hummed softly around him.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this,” he praised, guiding her face back and forth, going deeper and deeper. His pace was slow, watching his cock slide in and out of her mouth, warm, wet, and glistening with her saliva. Her hands held his hips at first, before one moved to the base of his cock, twisting tightly while her other fingers teased his balls.

He moaned, feeling her throat constrict around his cock, watching her eyes water with tears, but there was no sign she wanted to stop. “I’m gonna… fuck, don’t stop,” he whispered, surprise replacing the fire of his orgasm when she pulled her mouth away from his cock completely. “Is something wrong?” He asked softly, letting her fingers wrap around his wrist as she got up to stand in front of him.

“Everything‘s fine,” she murmured with a smile, but Dean worriedly wiped her tears and leaned forward to kiss the mess around her mouth, his tongue lewdly cleaning up her saliva and his precum.

Her quiet laugh made him smile, his lips trailing down her jaw and neck when he realised she was answering honestly. He took his time savouring her skin beneath his tongue, worshipping the taste of her and sucking softly at her perfect skin, biting into her shoulder which made her hiss softly.

He guided her to sit on the bed, the bed they had shared while Daphne and Mallory shared the other. The bed he had jerked off in while she slept next to him, clueless that it was her that made him ejaculate faster than he ever had. His cock throbbed at the memory of her sleeping soundly next to him while he defiled her image in his head.

His fingertips tickled her sides in attempts to lift her crop top. His hot mouth was on her breasts, over the shirt he teased her nipples, turned on that she was braless. He silently thanked Daphne for dressing her tonight.

She arched her back, her chest rising and falling rapidly, matching her breaths and nearly her heartbeat as her clit throbbed, begging for attention. Unlike him, she didn’t beg when he experimented with her body. His hands eventually found their way beneath her shirt and he was lifting it up her body, throwing it carelessly to the side.

He admired her for a few moments, turned on by how she squirmed, her legs parting to fit his body between them. He knew she must be achingly wet, but he focused his attention on her breasts, cupping them in his hands and kneading them gently, watching her reactions closely. His mouth was back on her breasts, his tongue circling around her nipple, lapping at it teasingly, and finally sucking gently.

She bit her lip when his fingers mimicked the same care as his tongue on her other breasts. His thumb made gentle circles around the tightened bud, then he started to swipe his thumb across, and finally rolled it between his fingers. He was pleased with how she was squirming, practically grinding down on the bed as he became rougher, pinching and biting softly until she finally moaned for him.

He pulled away, pushing her back gently and impatiently tugged her skirt down her legs. His hands grabbed beneath her soft thighs once the skirt was off and thrown out of sight. He kissed his way up the inside of her thighs, his mouth watering at the sight of her glistening folds.

She lifted herself up on her elbows, her adorable eyes catching Dean’s. She observed the way he kissed the inside of her thighs, avoiding where she was currently dripping with need, all from sucking him off and hearing the sounds he made. She squirmed a little, hating the way he breathed against her pussy, never giving her any attention.

He bit his lip at the sight of her being impatient, he was a little amused by her narrowed eyes when he looked up at her. He gave in quickly, letting her feet rest on the bed with her knees bent. His tongue flicked at her clit, two of his fingers circling her entrance, causing him to moan upon feeling how slick his fingers became.

If there’s anyone he’d love to have his tongue shoved into, it would be her. He’d yearned for her touch for far too long. It was torture when she’d sleep next to him and somehow end up cuddled up next to him, well, practically laying on top of him sometimes. Even patching her up the few times she’d been hurt, when his fingers would brush against her soft skin, he felt the voltage of her skin driving him crazy.

He’s wanted to kiss her for far too long. His lips had tingled every time he thought of kissing her, yearning to be pressed against hers. When both her dad and his dad worked together on hunts, they did the hard work and forced him to babysit her.

She was irritated by him because she was just a year younger than Dean. He was always distracted from research when he watched her bite her lip, leaving it swollen and red, wishing it was him who made them look like that. Or the way her pretty hands fidgeted with the book, wishing they were somewhere on his body instead.

He had all that now.

He shoved one finger inside her tight walls, feeling her warmth and the texture of her walls. He kissed her clit and pressed more kisses along her folds, removing his finger to kiss her entrance, his tongue pushing gently inside her. Her gasps, the way she squirmed and fisted the sheets satisfied him. The taste of her exploded his taste buds, a moan of satisfaction vibrating against her cunt while his hands found her thighs again.

He squeezed the flesh of her thighs in his warm hands, tasting her arousal before finding her clit again and massaging it with his tongue. Her hands moved into his hair, gentle tugs at the soft strands turned him on, letting go of one of her legs to push his finger into her again, smoothly moving in and out, curled gently against her walls.

Her heavy breaths filled his ears, his name quietly falling from her lips made his stomach flip excitedly and he started to suck her clit into his mouth excitedly. The moan she let out was sinful. A second finger prodded at her entrance, gently stretching her open while her fingers tightened against his hair. He pushed in slowly, removing his mouth from her clit to watch his two fingers slowly being pumped into her.

“You’re so tight… Relax, sweetheart,” he whispered, her hips wiggling in response. He bit his lip, but the way she squirmed allowed his fingers to push forward all the way. “Good girl,” he said softly, kissing his way up her body until he found her lips again, keeping his fingers buried inside her and starting to scissor them. She gasped against his mouth, her legs twitching open as he tried to loosen her up.

“This was not supposed to be about me..” she murmured against his lips, moaning quietly as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, his tongue sensually rolling over hers. She wrapped her hand around his wrist, enjoying the way his thumb rubbed her clit in quick circles, his fingers still moving inside her before she started to push his hand away.

“I’m trying to get you ready…” he trailed off, sitting back on his legs, staring into her eyes as she followed him, sitting on his lap. “If my fingers can barely fit inside you,” he whispered, grasping her thighs tightly when her wet pussy rubbed over his cock, “how am I supposed to fit inside you?” He looked between their bodies, her hand attempting to wrap around his cock again, unable to fully fit her slim fingers around him.

“You’re so sweet,” she smiled at him. He blushed, staring into her eyes now, trying to keep them open with her hand tightening around him. She leaned forward to kiss him softly, his eyes fluttering close with her loving kiss, feeling his heart soar in his chest. The feeling of her kiss made him moan, his hips moving up impatiently. He was really missing out, he’d never felt this way when he kissed someone.

She chuckled softly against his mouth, moving off him while he attempted to catch his breath. His eyes slowly opened to watch her, a little confused when she started to move around him, settling behind him. He looked over his shoulder at her, “what are you doing?” He asked breathlessly, shivering as her warm breath blew against the back of his neck when she laughed softly.

“Something I’ve always wanted to do to you…” she murmured, she grasped his chin, turning him just a bit more to kiss him, sucking on his bottom lip before she pulled away. A little smirk tugged at her lips when his breath hitch. “Is that okay?” She asked, moving her hands down the front of his body, his head bowed down to watch her hands stop at his thighs.

“Sure, baby, whatever you want,” he replied, the muscles of his legs tensing. He shifted a little, sitting a little more comfortably and waited for her with anticipation, curiosity making him impatient. She dropped a kiss on his shoulder, his heart warming up with how loving and gentle she was while sitting behind him.

“You’re not allowed to cum until I say so,” she said suddenly. His smile faded and he swallowed, looking back at her to make sure he heard her right. The innocent look on her face made him feel like she was hiding way too many dirty fantasies and he nodded immediately. “Good boy,” she praised offhandedly. He inhaled sharply at the praise, his hips rolling up into her hand, and it made her laugh softly.

She moved her hand up and down slowly. In his mind, Dean nervously hoped he could hold back his orgasm and not cum after all. Her hands felt too soft, her thumb circled around the head, and precum was already starting to gather until she swiped her fingers across blindly. He stared down at her hand, amazed and enchanted. He wanted to take control and force her to go faster, but he secretly wanted this.

He wanted to relax, to give in to her, and to lose himself in her teasing. He hadn’t been the one without control in so long that it was thrilling for him that she had even suggested it. Her of all people—quiet, reserved, and a little shy. He was clearly wrong about her and he always suspected that he was wrong about her, that she was far deeper and far kinkier than even he was.

In his fantasies, she was a sex goddess. For some reason, she was always the one with the upper hand. He had no idea what it was about her that made him think that, didn’t know if he somehow managed to figure her out in the midst of his horny thoughts or if it was simply his needs in the moment and happened to have been a coincidence that it’s true.

The slow pace and tight grip slowly built up his need, as if she were reading his mind, his stomach becoming taut and his breath turning deep and shallow. Her other hand started to move up his hip and his eyes widened, distracted for a few moments before she started to pump his cock faster.

And that feeling of pleasure nearly blinded him from her hand on his peck, her fingers tracing his nipple so he could hardly feel it. That was the case until she pinched it and he hissed, feeling a tingling sensation after and continuing to feel it as she brushed her finger against it.

He arched his back, his hips jutting out as he tried to even out his breaths, but her hand was moving away from his chest. It slid down again, moving down the middle to his soft tummy, which felt nice and for some reason it turned him on, a pathetic moan slipping past his lip.

She started to kiss the freckled skin of his back, his skin suddenly a million times sensitive. He closed his eyes tightly, enjoying the feeling of her all over him, a strangled moan nearly choking him when she reached under his cock and squeezed his balls gently. He whined again, opening his eyes to watch her small hands giving him pleasure, taking him straight to the edge.

He was pink and throbbing in her hand and he felt his stomach becoming tight, about to spill himself over her hand, only for her to suddenly let go of his cock and move her hand out from under him. There was an uncomfortable ebb of losing his orgasm and he panted, confused for a few seconds before remembering that he wasn’t allowed to cum until she gave him permission.

“When can I cum?” He whispered, looking over his shoulder. She smirked at him and he blushed looking forward almost instantly, feeling her move around behind him, her breasts against his back when she rested her chin on his shoulder.

“When you start to sound pretty,” she murmured into his ear, kissing down his neck and sucking a light mark. He groaned, a little frustrated by that because he wasn’t sure he could sound pretty, but also from enjoyment at the suction of her mouth on his skin. She wrapped her arms around his waist, leaving a few more marks down his clavicle and on his shoulder.

Her hands returned to his cock and Dean lost track of time as she denied him release over and over and over. He’d never felt so lost in the cloudy haze of lust and his body had never felt so sensitive. He felt like he could explode and he was unaware of the sounds that he let out at this point.

It was the pretty sounds that she’d been talking about. He was whining loudly, his back arched against her body, and his hands were fisting the sheets so tight he thought his nails might tear through them. He panted, sweaty and flushed when she let go of him again, the intervals of her teasing getting shorter because he was so close he didn’t need much more to cum.

He sounded pathetic, his hair sticking to his forehead, messy from her pulling it or from comforting him when he sobbed and whimpered, begging so endearingly for her to let him cum. And each time she would kiss him hard and hot, her tongue into his mouth, teeth clashing, and then she’d pull away to continue what she was doing to him.

It was torture, her pretty hands were slick and it was all from his precum, beads of it dribbled down her fist and between her fingers like when she’d held the condensing beer bottle. His cock was red and sensitive, throbbing painfully and harder beyond any other occasion he’d ever been in.

He wiggled in place, writhing in her hands, his hips thrusting up desperately into her fist until her other hand held him place. Her fingers dug into his hipbone and he whined loudly, leaning over and burying his face in the pillow to cry out, his toes curling from the overwhelming need to cum.

When he did that, she’d change the angle she fisted his cock with and the soft head of his cock would brush against the sheets and he nearly lost it, her hand coming up to swipe over and around the tip, and back down. She let his cockhead brush aginst the sheets, gently twisting her hand and putting extra attention under the head of his cook. He shoved her hands away when it became too much, burying his face deeper into the pillow to whimper.

She laughed behind him, watched his body fall flat on the bed with his hands under the pillow as he squeezed it against his sweaty and tearful face. His hips began grinding against the bed and he whimpered. She bit her lip, rubbing her clit with her wet fingers and then smacked his ass.

He wiggled his butt a little, she’d spanked him occasionally throughout the night and he enjoyed it a lot more than he thought he would. He started to mumble something under the pillow and he lifted his hips up, keeping the top of his body down against the matters and she moaned quietly at his obedience.

“Please,” he begged breathlessly, turning his face to the side so he could speak, then his hand went to his cock and he started to jerk himself off slowly. He’d been babbling the whole night, saying partial sentences through grunts and moans, broken and interrupted words slipped out from between his pretty pink lips, but all that he could manage perfectly was ‘please’.

He felt better than drunk, better than high on drugs, he’d much rather be at her mercy like this every night. Even as his balls pulled tightly and his cock ached, he preferred this feeling above anything in the world. If he ever felt like this again, all he would feel is her, all he would be able to see is her, he’d only ever hear her, and always only taste her. He doubted anyone would take the time to make him feel like this, but she did and one part of his brain should have wondered where their friends were, but frankly even if he wasn’t delirious, he wouldn’t give a shit.

He’d let her edge him with them around—watching him, he’d beg to cum because he needed it. It was different now, the way he felt so safe and warm all over, like a pile of melted marshmallows and she was the fire. She stood up on her knees behind him and he prepared himself for her by letting go of his cock, not expecting the smack on his ass, but definitely preparing for a second one.

“You wanna come, D?” She asked with a grin, her hands moved up his hips and he pushed back against her, whining softly and nodding.

“Let me cum, please, I wanna cum so bad,” he whimpered, “need it so bad, please, please.” She grabbed his hair and tugged it roughly, squeezing her thighs together when he moaned out another plea to let him come, babbling words pouring from his mouth and into the pillow. It was muffled, but she could easily make out the words now, her hand moved between his legs and he gasped when she started to tug at his cock quickly, mercilessly pumping his sensitive penis.

She watched the muscles in his back become taut and tense, it was like art and the freckles frosted over his sweet skin only added to his beauty. She licked her lips and her hand landed on his ass again, the sting of it making him groan. When she rubbed the red skin, he let out a little mew that left her slick down her thighs. After another slap on his ass, a more pathetic sound was pulled out of him. She could hear it clearly because he moved his face to the side again in order to breathe.

“You’re so good for me, Dean,” she praised, and he eyed her with pretty wide eyes, his pretty eyelashes sticking together from actual tears of not being able to cum. “Look at you, baby, you’re so beautiful, so pretty,” she told him breathlessly, squeezing his cock and he moaned.

“Wanna be inside you,” he begged, “wanna be inside you when I cum, please.” He started to wiggle a little and she let go of his cock, letting him sit up, making her way around him and let him pull her into his lap. He kissed her softly with an iron grip on her hips, but he didn’t make another move, just let her know his needs, but otherwise gave her control over whether or not she’d let him finally cum.

As he’d unfortunately suspected, she wasn’t going to give in to him just yet, but at least he could see her now. He’d wondered how she gazed at him the whole time she was torturing him, but when she broke the kiss, the hungry look in her eyes kept him still and in the same needy headspace. He liked it.

He liked the way her lust was entwined perfectly with tenderness, her thumb brushing against his cheekbone, a soft smile on her kiss-swollen lips. He leaned into her touch, his heart beating fast and loud in his ears, his cheeks red and shiny from sweat. His green eyes were clear, pupils dilating when looking into hers, his lips plump and soft, lashes still damp. He truly looked beautiful. More so than usual.

He admired her in return, taking in the flush on her cheeks and how captivated she looked when she gazed at him. Her lips were pulled between her teeth, her eyes trailing over his sweaty, freckled body to admire every inch of him. Even scrutinised under her gaze, his cock twitched, as if wanting her attention as well, and it did catch her attention which furthered his embarrassment.

He swallowed, his throat dry from all his pathetic and uncontrolled breathing. She lifted herself a little and kissed his forehead, he smiled softly, grateful and floaty when her lips moved down his face and to the other side, down his nose, to his cheeks and finally a kiss on his lips again.

He moaned against her mouth, still feeling distracted by how hard he was. She moved her lips down his neck, not caring that his skin was salty when she licked up the column of his throat. He shuddered, squirming delightfully when her teeth grazed his pulse, a little bite making him moan again.

He felt her smirk against his skin, felt himself struggle not to whine and whimper like a whore, her hands flat on his chest. She used her teeth and tongue over his clavicle, really making things impossible for him when she licked and nibbled at his nipples. He never thought he’d enjoy it, but he was hypersensitive everywhere at this point, and the strange pleasure that sent jolts down to his throbbing cock only made him more desperate and horny.

She was making her way down his stomach, licking the light outline of his abs, and sucking marks on his hip bones. He slowly lowered himself onto his back, gasping when she breathed against his cock, but she pulled away and like he’d been doing all night, he begged for her return. His words jumbled but she understood what he was asking, she just ignored him, took both his hands and kissed his wrists, right on his pulse.

It was so fucking romantic, he felt himself turn red and his heart swooned. Even when she put his hands on her breasts, guiding him to move his fingers and tease her nipples in similar ways she’d done to him. He pulled himself out of the daze to give her a little something, anything. He just wanted to make her feel good too, even if he just wanted to plunge his dick into her, he kept his hips down and squeezed her breasts roughly.

His thick fingers tweaked and pinched each nipple, budding them and watching them tighten under his gaze. His lips parted and he whined at her, silently asking for her to let his mouth do the work. She laughed through her nose, leaning over him so he could wrap his lips around her nipple, a little purr vibrating through her chest when the pleasure intensified with the heat of his mouth, little suck, and gentle scrapes of his teeth.

She stroked the side of his face, rocking her hips against his, his aching cock finally getting a feel of how hot and wet she was. Her soaked pussy slid along his cock and he gasped, her nipple falling out of his mouth, but she squeezed his cheeks painfully in one small hand, her brows rising. It was a little threat that he nodded at and then took her other nipple into his mouth, moaning rather loudly.

She panted, leaning one arm beside his head and cupping the back of his neck with her other. Both of his hands grasped her hips, somewhat guiding her movements. It was the most control he’s had all night and he was enjoying it. When he bent his knees, feeling more desperate, she moved her chest away, seemingly pleased when she cupped her breasts and rubbed her thumbs over her glistening nipples.

It was so hot, but she lifted her hips slightly over his so he wouldn’t rub himself against her anymore. He purposely took his cock at the base and started to slide the spongey, leaking tip through her folds, a gasp leaving both their lips when he started on her clit and moved down. He worked his hips upwards, focusing on her clit and then moved down to her weeping entrance, finding it so easy to slip the head inside her and his breath stuttered at the feeling of her hot walls clenching tightly around the head of his cock.

“Hey, I didn’t say you could do that, did I?” She asked, moving away from him, sitting on her legs and squeezing her thighs together because she really enjoyed it. He shook his head apologetically and looked away a little ashamed. She smiled at him, a little wicked smile that made him shift anxiously, his hands awkwardly playing with the sheets. “It’s okay, you’ve been good all night, D,” she reassured him, leaning down to kiss his cheek and his jawline.

“I’ll keep being good, I’m sorry, baby,” he apologised, his eyes wide and puppy-ish. She smiled at him, her eyes softening. She gave him a quick peck on the lips, thoughtfully tapping at his lower lip.

“Wanna make it up to me?” She asked innocently, to which he nodded fervently. Instead of telling him what to do, she threw her legs over his waist and he waited patiently for her to move. When she started to crawl up his body, his cock throbbed, bobbing with excitement at the very sight of her slick folds.

She wiggled her hips, letting them hover above his mouth teasingly. She waited with a smirk until he whined to drop her hips onto him. Her pussy silenced his whine and he moaned instead, his hands squeezing her ass roughly, pulling her down onto his mouth harder, his tongue finally tasting her again.

Her arousal coated his lips and she gasped, screwing her eyes shut when he sucked down her swollen clit. Now he knew how turned on she was, the sweet and slightly tangy taste of her slick lit fireworks on his taste buds once again. He greedily swallowed the mixture of her juices and his saliva, his mouth watering, practically drooling over her cunt.

She held onto the headboard, moaning when he shoved his tongue into her pussy, the short muscle wiggling inside her warm cunt and sliding out so hotly she reached down to take handfuls of his hair and started to tug as gently as she could.

Her hips undulated against his face, his nose rubbing against her clit and now she was controlling him again. Reminding him constantly that she still had the upper hand, particularly when she said things to him like, “you have such a fuckable face, D.” She was out of breath and he looked up at her from between her legs, whining loudly when he saw her with her back arched and her head tipped back in pleasure. “Make me cum, D, be a good boy and make me cum all over your face.”

When he nodded, his tongue slipped out of her and his nose brushed quickly over her clit, making her moan out his name. He wanted to grab his cock and relieve some of the pent up frustration but instead, he easily plunged two fingers into her wet hole and sloppily started to scissor them inside her.

He sucked her clit into his mouth, lapped at her stretched entrance, and watched her squirm above him. Her hips still moved against his face, but this time, she alternated between fucking herself on his fingers and letting his mouth do it’s job on her clit. It drove him crazy how hedonistic she was when she’d languidly pleasured him the whole night. If she rode his cock this desperate and fast, he wouldn’t last much longer.

When he pulled his fingers out, she whined. His stomach tightened and his cock bobbed, frantic for attention and throbbing for her weeping cunt. She shifted her hips a little and let go of the headboard, her hand instead moving behind her and flat on his sweaty chest while she began using his mouth to get off. She moaned wantonly, her lips parted, and he became thrilled when he recognised that this was her I’m close face.

“Dean,” she moaned, “I love your mouth,” she gasped, “so good for me.” He moaned in response, starting to suck her clit roughly which made her tense up, a strangled moan tearing its way through her as she orgasmed. She rode his face until her orgasm subsided and then she moved off his face, sitting on her legs again, her clit still throbbing.

He stared at her in awe, gazed at her now that she came and she looked right at him with a similar look on her face. She’d never done anything like that before and she was sure Dean had single-handedly ruined all men for her on her first time. There was never gonna be someone who was this good at sex and she really didn’t want to try putting herself out there to verify that information. She wanted Dean all to herself, but she kept that possessive thought to herself.

“Oh, you’re a mess, D,” she murmured, staring at the slick around his mouth and on his nose. He shrugged, watched her lean down and his lips parted, ready for her kiss which she gave him. She moaned against his mouth, licking against his soft tongue without a care in the world that she could taste herself or that she was smearing the same slick over her own mouth.

She pulled away and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, taking her discarded shirt to clean his mouth with tenderness in her touch and eyes.

“Can I cum now? I need you so bad, Y/N,” he asked timidly. He sat up and shoved the pillows away to take their place, not caring that one landed on the floor. His cock was a furious red colour, standing up straight and resting rigidly against his tummy, leaving it sticky with his precum.

“Want me to ride you?” She asked, staring at him with a little smile.

“Yes, I want you on my dick,” he moaned softly.

“Let me have a taste…” she murmured, lowering herself so she could be levelled with his erect penis. He cursed softly under his breath, catching her licking her lips before her hot mouth overwhelmed his cock with pleasure. His hand instinctively moved to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her soft hair. Her tongue licked up his precum, moaning at the taste of him and taking him into her mouth.

She bobbed her head, taking more and more of him each time and then stopped before he could reach her throat. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked, nearly pulling off and then moving back down, drool coated his cock and she pulled away completely with a loud pop.

He thought that was it, when she started to move between his legs, but instead she took him in her mouth again, but instead started to take him deeper. His breath stuttered with each extra inch of him that she took.

He gathered her hair and stared at her in amazement, nearly hitting his head a little too hard against the wall at the feeling of her throat constricting around him. He grunted, not really knowing if he wanted to yank her hair and kiss her senseless or if he wanted to fuck her mouth fast and hard. He whined when her nose was pressed against his pelvis, her warm breath coming in and out through her nose with great skill, but he didn’t dwell on it when he felt himself move in and out of her throat.

“Holy fuck, Y/N,” he gasped, trying very hard to keep his hips still and failing miserably when he started to thrust up into her mouth, but it was her final attempt at torturing him and when his balls drew up, his stomach becoming rigid with the close proximity of his orgasm, she pulled her mouth off him all the way and licked her lips while smirking at him. “Please, why?”

“Because,” she started, sitting in his lap, “I want you to finish inside me.” His breath hitched at her words, looking down between their bodies and observing how she guided his dick to her entrance the way he had done earlier.

He didn’t even have to whine, whatever sentence he’d started to form in attempts to convince her to let him cum died on his tongue when she lowered herself all the way down. Slowly and easily from how soaked she was, she sat herself down on his lap and his hands found a way to ground him to reality by resting on her hips tightly.

She continued to drip around him, finding the way he effortlessly glided in and out of her so ridiculously hot. She rested her hands on his chest to help keep her steady as she bounced on his lap, ignoring the feeling of her thighs burning from her efforts because of how good it felt when her clit pressed against his pelvic bone.

She looked at him before he could manage to get his heavy eyes open, both becoming entranced by each other like the sun had peaked through dark rain clouds and rays of sunlight revealed the truth to them. They were truly looking at one another, seeing the person who was making all these feelings and emotions intensify impossibly. It was intimate, the way suddenly it wasn’t about getting off, but about having each other and feeling good while they were vulnerable.

He lifted his hips up, meeting her hips each time, only after sharing a soft and passionate kiss, did he close his eyes again. He relished in the feeling of her around him, in the way she held him close with the fingers of one of her hands buried in the short hair at the back of his head. Her palm rested over his heartbeat, nearly following the rapid beat each time their hips met, and he felt so warm.

It was a new feeling that nearly terrified him into stopping, but she’d kissed that fear away, her lips moving against his distractingly so that he forgot he wanted to run before she realised he wasn’t good enough. Before he fell harder only for her to abandon him like everyone else had. He couldn’t go through that again, but the way she sank her teeth into his lower lip and tugged with a little moan made him forget what he was thinking about.

“Fuck,” he groaned, completely blindsided by his orgasm. He only felt her pull away from his lips to look at him when he spilled inside her. The warmth of it made her shudder and she kissed him again, muffling his moan with a rough kiss. She pulled away when her walls spasmed around him, his cum oozing out of her and mixing with hers. He grunted her name and gazed at her tiredly when she rode out her orgasm, his name quietly falling from her lips.

She cursed quietly, placing her forehead on his shoulder and moved her hands back on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and enjoying the warmth of her body against his, for as long as it lasted. He kissed the side of her head, gently tracing her skin, trying not to think about anything negative.

He wasn’t sure he could make himself stop thinking, not when he felt her relax in his arms. The silence that fell over them didn’t help either, but what was he supposed to say? He didn’t exactly plan on this happening, not with her, and he knew she didn’t plan for this to happen either. Even if they had fantasies about it happening, now that it had, what were they gonna say? Where would they go from here?

He doubted she would even want anything to do with him. He shifted beneath her, his anxiety getting the best of him. “Let’s get cleaned up,” he said softly, brushing her hair away from her face and kissing her cheek. He didn’t really wanna talk about it, but he knew he’d have to at some point because he cared about her a lot more than he ever would for some random lay.

He grunted softly when she moved off him, but she seemed to sense that something was up with him. “Dean,” she laughed softly, trying to ease the tension that built up. He looked up at her innocently, a blush blazing its way up his face when she took his chin in her hand and kissed him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She had to ask.

He leaned in to kiss her and shook his head, “nothing.” She narrowed her eyes at him, but kissed him back anyway, getting off the bed. He followed her lips and only pulled away when she let go of his face. Her little laugh made his face soften, but fear nagged at his heart and made it flutter.

He breathed to calm himself, building up his walls and getting ready to act casual, as if she were any other woman he’d take to his room. It failed miserably, when he got up and followed her into the bathroom, and saw her cleaning herself with a towel. She blushed when she saw him, freezing with the towel between her legs.

He apologised, but she smiled, and he stayed to clean himself.

He dared to look in the mirror, watched her wash her hands after dumping the towel, her hair dishevelled sexily, similar to what his own hair looked like now. It felt so domestic. So… like everything he secretly wished he could have instead of being a hunter, like all those policed dreams and secret wishes he’d never allow himself to dwell on because it hurt so bad that he couldn’t have it. He wasn’t allowed to.

But she tore all that up, with her compassion and her determination, her dedication to being there for him and indulging his inner-child without complaints. She didn’t stop him from doing something he wanted to do, even if it was childish. She listened to him, to all his sad thoughts and all the things he was passionate about. She was home. He could be himself, happy, sad, whatever it was he could just bare his soul to her and she’d treat every ounce of it with tenderness and love.

After every bad case, she’d be there to caress and comfort his soul, and after every good day, she’d celebrate with him. When his father and her father went off to do the killing and left the two of them together, she’d help him do research, he’d teach her to cook when they had nothing to do, and he took her out to get ice cream because even she got tired of being indoors. And every time there was an event in the city or town they were in, she’d surprise him and take him there to experience it.

It’s like they’ve been together forever, not just as friends, but as lovers. Neither of them dared to speak of what was going on between them, both were too scared the magic would fade because of their fear of what would happen once they acknowledged it. This was different to him, he had friends that he cared about nearly as much as he cared about Y/N, he’d do all that with them, but it was different with her.

When he looked at his few close friends in utter adoration, it was different from when he looked at her, and he died a little inside all those times people teased him for looking so in love with his friends, thinking she could see it too. It made him wonder if she knew how he felt somehow and just didn’t make a move because she didn’t feel the same, or if she took the way he looked at her and thought that’s how he looks at his friends too, because it simply wasn’t true.

She was it for him. He put all his friends on a pedestal and he was painfully loyal to them, he’d die for them and he’d fall apart if he ever lost them, but if he ever lost her, he just wouldn’t survive a second more, even if Sam were still here.

“I’m gonna put something on,” she announced, her voice coming out gently. He nodded at her and stared at himself for a few moments before being absorbed into his thoughts again. Would she wait for him to finally not be afraid? Could he ask that of her? He wanted her, he needed her in his life, felt more affection for her than any other person in his life and he knew he’d never love anyone that intensely.

He doesn’t ever meet people that stick around long enough for him to find that out, but with her. How could he not? How could he not be in love with her when they are so similar and yet so different? It was the perfect balance, at least he thought so. She was always there to pick him up and always there when he was happy. She’d seen the ugliest parts of him and she’d stayed by his side after all of it.

They shared a million things together, both new and old, and he knew what he had with her was far more than friendship because of how many times his dreams were plagued with her being the one he’s with. When he’d read books out of boredom in secret, if they happened to have romances, he’d always picture her and himself and feel so pathetic for doing so.

His most favourite thing to imagine was that she was Penelope and he was Odysseus, that she’d love only him despite a million suitors throwing themselves at her. That no matter how much more stable, normal, and good looking they were, it was him she wanted. He imagined that she’d wait for him just as long and yearn for him for ages, just to see him, to be with him. If she’d actually do that, he didn’t know.

He stepped into the room again and saw her wearing his baby blue flannel. He stopped again to admire her, with her hair in a messy ponytail, strands falling randomly down her face while she looked in her bag for something. Her teeth pulled at her lower lip and her brows were drawn together in focus. All of this really reminded him of times when his mother was trying to look for something while his dad just admired her, and it hurt.

“What are you looking for?” He asked, watching her relax and smile up at him. She moved a strand out of her face and her hand fell on her thigh loudly.

“My phone,” she laughed breathlessly, “did I leave that in the car?” She wondered to herself, her eyes only then flickering down to his dick. He looked down at himself and with a blush, he started to get dressed, slipping on his boxers and jeans.

“I’ll go check, sweetheart,” he took his keys and she thanked him quietly. He smiled and kissed the top of her head before heading out, his boots stomping on the ground the whole way to his car. He heard her phone ring a few times and easily found it under the passenger seat, lighting up with Daphne’s name. “Shit,” he muttered, answering quickly.

“Babe,” she slurred.

“It’s Dean,” Dean cleared his throat and chuckled, stepping out of his car he heard Daphne choke a little over the phone.

“Still applies,” she teased. There was a long pause and Dean became concerned. “Did you two finally fuck?” She whispered before Dean could say anything and this time Dean nearly choked, a blush crawling up his face.

“No,” he said unconvincingly, crossing an arm over his chest.

“Oh, my God! You did!” She shouted and he cringed, pulling the phone away from his ear. “Finally, you’re both so in love!” She said a little more quietly.

“N-No, we’re not,” he stuttered, rolling his eyes.

“Dean, be fucking for real,” she scolded, “her eyes literally light up like a million stars when she looks at you and you do the same. Trust me, I know,” she said matter-of-factly. Her words made his stomach do flips, both enjoying the prospect that she looked at him with love in her eyes and also hating that he was so obvious about his feelings towards her. “Anyway, please pick us up,” she whined, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Us?” Dean wondered, confused about who this other person was.

“Yeah! It’s an old friend from highschool. She’s awesome and Y/N misses her so bad!”

“Uh, right. We’ll be there in a few.” Dean shrugged and looked confused still.

“Thanks! Bye!” She hung up and he laughed, finally making his way back to the room, where Y/N was now wearing some jeans and a pink sweater. He could easily tell she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath and it turned him on, especially after finding out she may have the same feelings towards him after all.

“Daph called your phone, we need to pick her up,” he told her, handing her the phone. She smiled, thanking him again and reaching out to take it only for him to tug her into him. She looked at him with confusion, but didn’t fight when he kissed her again, his lips soft and the kiss gentle. He felt her relax in his arms again, her kiss turning just as loving as his before he pulled away, his thumbs stoking her cheeks. “If my dad finds out I had sex with you, he’s going to kill me,” Dean said suddenly and she laughed from how unexpected it was to hear him say that.

“He doesn’t need to know…” she trailed off, smiling deviously, “and if he does find out, he better get used to it because we’re doing that again.” He smirked at her words, still cupping her face in his hands and leaning down to kiss her, making it last longer than before to pour his love into it.

“Let’s go pick them up first, and then round two,” he murmured, pecking her lips. She smiled against his mouth and reciprocated the chaste kiss.

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@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @kellynickelss @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @jessllianaquilesrolonworld @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean x female!reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #6.7

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