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book-of-baba-fett · 3 years ago

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Passing Time - Hunter x Fem!Reader

In between jobs on Ord Mantell, you meet a mysterious man named Hunter who’s more than willing to help you kill some time.

AO3 link

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, bar hookup, oral sex (fem receiving), thigh riding, vaginal and anal fingering, light degradation, light spitting, light biting

Notes: hit 99 followers on the same day as The Bad Batch finale so I thought of a little Hunter smut as a treat. This was my take on@delusionsxfgrandeur ‘s Redefining smut challenge!

Word Count: 2.2k

Cid’s bar is as seedy as ever, with grime covering every surface including the glass you’re drinking from. You examine the glass, twirl around the brown liquor, then pour it down your throat figuring the alcohol must work as a disinfectant. You just finished a drop off for Cid and are hanging tight while your astromech works on some maintenance for your ship. The droid was going to comm you once everything was flight ready for your next job, but for now you’re trying to to find the best way to way to kill time. And the ache in between your legs reminds you that you can’t even remember the last time you had a good fuck.

Scanning the room, you realize there’s not much to work with. Just a weequay and an ithorian, both obviously intoxicated as they argue over a game in the corner. Otherwise the place is empty, except for a man sitting on the other edge of the bar. By the Republic issue armor he wore, you could assume he was a clone but he was unlike any clone you had seen before. There were some basic facial similarities, but he wasn’t identical to is countless counterparts. He had long dark hair, that curled to his neckline, kept away from his face by a red bandana. What captures your eyes is the skull tattoo covering half his face; you can’t help but lick your lips when you wonder how far it goes down his body.

“Hey Cid,” you wave down the Trandoshan. “Another round for me, and a drink for the man down the end of the bar too.”

“Huh, Dark and Broody?” Cid questions you, a confused and judgmental look on her face. “Sheesh, kid, I guess everyone has their own type but fine.”

Cid hands the drink to the man, who looks around the bar surprised until his eyes found you. He cocks a brow, and he lifts the drink up to you. You mirror his movements and you each take a sip at the same time. He slowly rises from the seat and stalks his way towards you.

“So you must be Dark and Broody?” You extend your hand to him. The man let’s our a soft chuckle.

“Did Cid tell you to say that?” His low and husky voice asks before he properly introduces himself “It’s Hunter, and I must say you don’t seem like Cid’s usual clientele.”

“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.” You smirk at him. He must be another bounty hunter under Cid’s employment, you think as you notice how armed he is. He leans on the counter next to you, and you don’t fail to notice the way his eyes drift up and down your body. If he’s in your line of work, maybe he’s in the same need for some relief as you are. You shift in your seat, painfully aware of your growing arousal as you and Hunter make small talk. You had your fair share of lovers, but there was something about his magnetic ruggedness that intrigued you. That and the fact that he seems reluctant to give you any information about himself, but that wasn’t too uncommon in your line of work. But you don’t need his life story, you just need him to satisfy your itch.

“So how’s the men’s room here?” You ask.

“I’m sorry, what?” Ahh, it seems you’ve broken his tough guy facade to earn a flustered look on his face.

“The men’s room,” you repeat. “The last time I was here the women’s door wasn’t working properly and when you closed it you were locked in or you had to keep the door open. And I’m really looking for some privacy and no interruptions, so I’m curious if the men’s room will work.”

You down the rest of your drink, licking your lips as you finish, carefully keeping eye contact with him as you do. You watch his face process your words, his pupils expanding in his dark eyes and the corner of his lips on his tattooed side rises as he realizes your meaning.

“I think it’ll do just fine, I can show you the way?”

“What a gentleman,” you tease, taking his hand.

***

Your hands are on each other the second the door closes behind you. His grip on your plush ass, pulling you tighter to him. Yours find their way through his curls, tugging his hair as his mouth meets yours in a needy kiss. His large hands travel up your curves, until they reach your head and cup your face as he pulls back from the kiss.

“Such a dirty little thing aren’t you?” He rasps out. “Going into a filthy bar bathroom with a man you don’t even know?”

“What can I say? I like things a little messy.” You glance at him through heavy lashes as you grind against his codpiece.

“Open your mouth.” He orders, the deep tone in his voice going straight to your core, where you already feel your arousal dripping from you. You follow his command, just for him to spit in your eagerly awaiting hole. He groans as you close your mouth and swallow it. You bring your lips back to his as you make out with him again.

One of his hands leaves your face so it can trail down your waist and under your top, roughly groping your breast. You let out a soft moan into his mouth as his thumb flicks over your nipple. You feel him smirk against you, as he adjusts his ministrations so he’s lightly pinching your pebbled nipple. Your head involuntarily tilts back at the please and his mouth connects with your now open neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin.

You stumble backwards under his exploring hands, your back hitting the bathroom door behind you. Hunter uses this to his advantage, and grabs hold of your hip with one hand while the other continues its squeezing of your breast. He brings a leg in between yours and presses it against the apex of your thighs. You cry out as you finally have some friction against your aching core. You instinctively grind on his thigh; the crease of his armor and the seam on your pants combining to rub against your clit in the most addicting way that you can’t stop yourself. Your hands reach to his shoulders as you balance yourself against him.

Hunter watches, eyes blown out in lust, as you use him to chase your own needs. The hand on your hip assists your movements, making you gyrate faster and faster into the man. Moans are rolling off your lips, and your head snaps back against the wall as you feel the tightening coil of an approaching orgasm in your stomach.

Hunter bends down to nibble at your earlobe, his warm breath panting against your skin as he whispers, “Such a sexy thing, riding my thigh to get yourself off. You’re almost there, aren’t you? Dirty little slut. “

You whimper against him, your eyes shutting so you can focus on your impending climax. A harsher bite on your neck makes you yelp, and your eyes snap open to see Hunter staring at you.

“I asked you a question, be a good girl and answer me."

Your mind stutters for a moment before his harsh gaze reminds you of what he asked you. “Yes... I’m so close!” You gasp out at him, as you continue humping his leg. He smirks as his smoky eyes stay locked your face, watching every reaction as you build to your peak.

“Go on them, cum for me.” You cry out on his order, and his mouth clamps down on yours so he can muffle the sound to avoid being discovered by the few patrons in the bar. Your orgasm rolls through your body, your hips unrelenting in their thrusting on Hunter’s thigh as you ride out the waves of bliss. Once your movement slows, Hunter pulls back from kissing you to examine you in your post ecstatic state. Chest heaving, cheeks flushed and eyes drooping; you’re the sexiest thing he’s seen in a long time. And he wants to make you do it again.

He removes his gloves as he shifts his thigh out from under you, making you slump against the wall. You sigh, feeling him drag a hand over your covered center. He groans, feeling the wetness seeping through your pants from your previous orgasm. His fingers fumble with your buttons, then he roughly pulls the pants down and over your ankles. He presses his face against your panty covered mound, inhaling deeply as he’s intoxicated by your arousal. Looking back up at you, he licks a long strip over your panties, circling around your hidden clit. You moan from the overstimulation as you grip the door handle behind you, your legs still feeling like jelly and struggling to hold you up.

Sensing your predicament, Hunter slides your panties down your legs and removes them, tossing them in the pile with your pants. He then props one of your legs over his shoulder and presses a hand against your abdomen to hold you upright.

His warm breath wafts against your sensitive skin as he separates your folds with two thick fingers. His tongue slowly peaks out, teasing your swollen clit with delicate flicks. You groan as you feel the warm wetness of him lapping up the release of your previous orgasm. Once he’s sure you’re past the point of overstimulation and ready to go again, he attacks with more fervor.

Your head snaps to the wall again as he starts devouring you with a renewed intensity, his lips closing around your clit as his tongue rapidly circles and flicks it. He switches up the rapid movements with broad, strong strokes against your pussy, making your hips arch into his face to push more pressure from him. He hums into you as you moan above him, the vibrations adding to the euphoric sensation of his tongue against you. He’s a quick study to your body, following any hitch of your breath or moan to follow what you like and return to those sweet spots over and over again as he enjoys you.

You feel a prodding at your entrance as he pokes one large finger into you, your hips keening against him as you allow him to push deeper into you. With a gasp, you feel him add a second finger into your tingling pussy. He groans, watching your cunt grip his fingers as he pushes them in and out of you.

“So wet for me, mesh’la.” He growls dipping his head back to lap at your clit while he fingers you. Matching the pace of his hand and mouth, you feel the tension of another orgasm building up. His fingers crook inside you, pressing against that hard to reach spongy spot inside you.

“Yes, right there!” You cry out, begging him not to stop. He focuses on hitting that spot with every thrust of his hand. He brings his other hand around to your ass, squeezing your cheek and bringing you closer to him to ravage. Your breath leaves your body in wanton moans as he brings you closer and closer to the edge again. The hand on your ass slides inward, until you feel a single finger circling around your other entrance.

“Hunter!” You yelp as the finger pokes in, teasing along your sensitive entrance. Your head flops down so you meet his eyes, a devilish, lustful darkness taking over them as he continues eating you out while fingering both of your holes. His pace in in your cunt increases, finger bending and stroking you just where you need him as he wrenches your orgasm out of you.

Toes curling, head snapping back, and eyes rolling into your head: you cry out. Your body tenses, your legs quake and you would fall over if it were not for him holding you up. Your pussy pulses as you release, the waves of ecstasy overpowering your body. Hunter works you through your release, removing the hand from your ass to keep you steady. He softly laps at your folds and slows the push of his fingers in you until he feels your walls stop pulsing then he removes them.

He rises off his knees to kiss you, his mouth glistening with a mixture of your release and his own spit. You lean into the kiss, one much softer than the ones that started you escapades. You curse to yourself when you notice your comm going off.

“That important?” Hunter grumbles against your skin, his lips dragging along your cheek.

You groan, realizing it’s your droid letting you know your ship is ready to go. “Sadly, it is.” You had wasted to much time before starting your next job. You look at him with apologetic eyes, your previous experiences with men leading you to think he might be angry about your lack of reciprocation. To your surprise, he grins and holds up his hands as he steps away.

“No worries, I get it. Duty calls.” He hands you your pants from off the ground, you mumble your thanks, looking around for your underwear when you realize he’s twirling them in his fingers. He smirks at you before he sniffs them and places them in a compartment on his belt. “Hey, if you want these back you’ll just have to find me next time you’re back on Ord Mantell.”

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jisungscaramel · 4 years ago

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vexation | hyunjin

❀ genre; smut, college au, enemies au ❀ pairing; hyunjin x reader (fem) ❀ word count; 2.7k

[warning] strong language, explicit sexual content, dry humping, (mild) begging, hate sex

There it was: Hwang Hyunjin, name beautifully printed right above yours. You shuddered in complete disgust, not believing that you were paired with him of all people for your history presentation. There were 34 students in the class; that meant you had a whopping 97% chance of being paired with literally anyone else, but no. Your professor, Dr. Zhang, just had to pair you with him.

Overachiever: that was an understatement. He was the type to want all of the glory for the taking, the type to enjoy making others feel like they were dumb, the type who had no issue in forsaking common morals for his own gain.

You couldn’t fucking stand him.

Begrudgingly, you stood up from your original seat, trudging your feet to sit next to him - at your professor’s instruction, of course. You planned on at least being polite, and you thought for a second that he might do the same, but he didn’t even bother looking at you, staring through to the front of the room, eyes stoic. If he was trying to provoke you, it was definitely working.

You dropped your backpack to the ground, unceremoniously, sound drowning in the increasing levels of chatter in the small lecture hall, but clearly loud enough to make his composure teeter; his head jerked back a millimeter, a minuscule gesture but it was painfully obvious to you. And you let out an equally obvious slew of snickers before sitting back in the seat, neck meeting the old frayed fabric as you tilted your head back, arms stacking on one another as you folded them, woman spreading to occupy more real estate than you actually required.

You had to at least try to keep yourself amused.

Hyunjin began scribbling mindlessly on a blank piece of paper - still acting as if you were not even there.

He slammed the white sheet down on your knee, sending vibrations straight up your leg rather rudely.

Asshole.

Oh, baby, he hadn’t even started yet.

“Okay. We’re doing our paper on I-Hotel and… I’m gonna write it. All you have to do is find these books for me at the library.” He turned to look at you with a very aggravating smirk… maybe you’d notice the tiniest hint of flirtation if the feeling of overwhelming irritation didn’t encompass you.

But the chance passed when his countenance morphed into counterfeit concern, tapping his chin in contemplation for added effect, “although, I think the library’s computer system is down… I guess you gotta find them the old-fashioned way.” God, you just wanted to smack that smug grin right off his face. “I’d love to help you with that... but I’m just too busy…” It should’ve been illegal for intolerable people to be that gorgeous.

You blinked in complete confusion. “Ummm… excuse me?”

“I’m… sorry… do… I… need… to … talk… slower…?”

You gingerly picked up the piece of paper, promptly getting up from your chair, glaring at him. You made sure your backpack was secure on your shoulder before dramatically lifting the note in front of his face to tear what he wrote to shreds, scattering the bits over his laptop’s keyboard. “Stick a motherfucking cactus up your ass.”

You stormed out of that hall with your head high, not daring to look back despite your innate desire to see his response - you were sure it was priceless.

‘I’ll just have to do this damn thing on my own.’

Oh, if it could only be that simple.

The first thing that popped up on your laptop when you opened it from the safety of the library was an unexpected email.

Since you ripped up my list - rather rudely I might add - I’ve attached the list of the books I require. I will be at the library at four PM sharp. Please plan accordingly. Hyunjin

“Fuck.”

‘Plan accordingly,’ your ass, according to you, your plan was to minimize the amount of time you had to spend dealing with Hyunjin, and you had been 100% sure he had the same sentiment… so much for that.

Speaking of the devil, as soon as you decided to dismiss his outlandish request and settle in to get some of your research started, Hyunjin yanked your attention away from your laptop with merely his presence, almost as if your nerves were hypersensitive to his saccharine dipped aura, and most definitely not to the signature sway of his frame as he walked.

You didn’t dare grant him the luxury of your direct gaze. Instead, you kept a close eye on him in your peripheral, hoping you’d blend in with the people around you… but there was still at least a 92% chance he’d see you.

“Did you get my sources?” and now he was right in front of you, nothing but a measly table in between.

Your nostrils flared in an effort to not retort back at Hyunjin, eyes still fixed on your screen in a successful attempt to ignore him.

Then he pushed your laptop closed, hand planted firmly on the device rather invasively. “Excuse me, I’m talking to you.”

You gritted your teeth, tilting your head up in a menacing stare, eyes narrowing, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you want?”

God, you didn’t know his smile could get more fake than it already was. “I told you to get my sources for me,” his tone was exaggeratedly slow, “did you get my sources?”

You shoved his hand away from your laptop. “Get your own sources.”

Immediately his fake smile turned into a sincere snicker, rolling his eyes off to the side. “Uptight bitch.”

His words sank in for a moment. “You wanna say that again?”

He leaned over the table, face a mere six inches from yours. “Uptight,” you could feel your fists involuntarily clenching, digging into your palms what would soon be prominent crescents in a matter of seconds, “bitch.”

You almost raised your palm to gratuitously slap him across the face but the simmering mellowness in you kept a tight grasp of your boiling anger. You leaned back in your seat in an effort to widen the physical gap (or the lack thereof) between you. “Fuck off.”

<><><><><><>

“Hyunjin, y/n, can you both come down to the podium,” Dr. Zhang added at the end of his lecture, halting your plans to b-line straight to the library.

As the aisles began to empty, you made your way down the steps to the front of the room, purposefully standing at the side opposite of Hyunjin, frankly paying no mind to him for all intents and purposes.

Your professor glanced between you two, clearly noticing the oddity of the image but purposefully choosing to ignore it.

“I noticed that both of you submitted first drafts for your paper, and at first I thought it was an accident, until I opened both files and realized you’re writing completely separate papers. Care to explain?”

“Yeah y/n, care to explain?” What a fucking dicktard.

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you wracked your brain for some feasible excuse. “Well,” but nothing came to mind… oh fuck it, “we’ve had issues working with each other.”

Dr. Zhang raised an eyebrow cautiously. “Elaborate.”

“We really don’t get along.”

He sighed, crossing his arms. “Well you’re gonna have to try to find some middle ground. I’ll give you two a second chance to put a first draft together. If you can submit a collaborative piece by midnight, I’ll still give you full credit for that part. If not, it stays as a zero. Subsequently, you will keep getting zeroes for the following checkpoints if you submit them separately. Any questions?”

“No, sir,” much to your surprise, that was the first moment thus far wherein both you and Hyunjin were on the same wavelength.

“Good, that is all.”

You felt like two negatively charged magnets as you walked side by side up the aisle to the exit. “I’m not getting a zero for this,” Hyunjin spoke up.

You rolled your eyes. “At least we can agree on that.”

As the cold, crisp air of the outside refreshed your nerves, he lightly gripped your shoulder, swerving you to face him. “Look, I know we’re like oil and water, but I’m willing to at least try to get along for the grade.” His fingers trembled on your shoulder; his teeth lightly grazed his bottom lip, eyes searching yours for a sign of truce.

Needless to say, the sentiment from him was unexpected. You exhaled deeply, brushing his hand from you. “Fine.”

<><><><><><><>

But two hours spent alone in a library study room proved to be more difficult than originally anticipated. Trying to work together felt like pulling teeth - a true collaboration of absolute vexation.

“What about this passage?” You pointed to some text in a book you were sifting through.

He swiveled his chair around, only looking at your find for a solid half a second before, turning back around. “Nah, that’s not good enough to use as evidence.”

“What the fuck, Hyunjin? You didn’t even read it.”

“I didn’t have to. I assumed whatever you found was as subpar as everything else you’ve ‘found.’”

You dropped the book on the table with a loud plonk, partially in shock at what he said and partially due to a natural tendency to want to irritate him. “Well let’s see what you ‘found,’” leaning over the table in a relaxed manner, carrying a dash of nonchalance as you scrolled through his writing. “You call this good evidence?”

“What on earth are you talking about?” You wanted to laugh at his defensive tone.

“It’s obvious that you’re framing your own narrative by taking shit outta context. Not to mention all the ellipses and brackets are terrifically horrendous, visually. You’re taking literally all the credibility out.”

“What do you know? I doubt you even read that article,” he dismissed your legitimate critique in a manner you unfortunately predicted.

“As a matter of fact, I did… two. hours. ago. And you told me the article didn’t seem ‘reliable’ enough for you, but here you are… you must think I’m fucking stupid.”

The side of his lips curved up in the slightest smirk. “Not true, I think you’re annoyingly absentminded.”

You rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time in the past minute, whispering, “fucking cockmaggot,” under your breath, diverting your attention back to your screen.

“What did you just say?” His tone suggested he wasn’t being rhetorical - he really didn’t hear you. There was something cute and innocent about his ignorance, the way his lips formed a subtle pout unintentionally, nose wrinkling in distaste. You mentally shook the image from your head, cursing yourself for thinking he was… ‘cute’ to begin with.

“Nothing, My Liege, nothing at all,” mocking sarcasm spilled from your lips as you parted them to give them a disapproving smack. “This is complete shit; we can’t submit this.”

Hyunjin slammed his laptop closed, standing up abruptly. The action took you by surprise, making your neck shudder in a startle. “I can’t fucking do this anymore. Why do you have to be so fucking difficult?” Pent up rage was slathered all over his face, eyes twitching, eyebrows tightly knitting together, jaw unhinging from an excess of epinephrine.

His anger diffused to you, violently charging your nerves. There was no way you were just gonna take his shit sitting down. “Why do you,” you stood up, chair rocking back from the velocity of your limbs, “have to be,” you turned around and gripped his collar with both hands, “such an insufferable asshole?”

He was dumbfounded, wordless much to your satisfaction, but his eyes were unwavering, devoid of reaction. The time you spent stabbing each other with your unfaltering gazes felt like a goddamn eternity, tension coarse, sinfully tangible on your skin.

It was fucking stifling.

Before you even realized what was happening, your lips were latched together in a fervent frenzy, tension thickening for an entirely different reason now.

There was something so breathtaking about the way his lips tightened against yours - literally. It felt like he was siphoning your soul from your body - any thought that dared to grace your mind oddly dissolved into nothingness as Hyunjin molded your lips into submission, tongue colonizing your oral cavity in an authoritative manner that was so in character for him.

Not that you gave a fuck.

His hands aggressively tugged at your waist; the impact of your body crashing onto his sent pangs up your spine, and in seconds, your back thudded against the wall, maintaining the momentum. You had to grip his shoulders purely for support, and definitely not because you were immersing in the moment.

You felt his grip loosen as his hands roamed downward, playfully drawing patterns on your skin with his fingers en route. And then they constricted around your thighs, lifting them up to his hips, and you hooked your ankles around his back as if it was the natural thing to do.

The fabric of his pants became taut around the building frustration underneath, becoming oh so apparent to you when he started steady grinding against the thin fabric of your underwear - why did you have to wear a skirt today of all days?

You passed a reluctant whimper through his lips, wholly unable to deny the way your pulsing desire radiated heat through your core at the increasing friction.

You broke away from the kiss, gasping. “Hyunjin…” you whispered almost breathlessly, desperation filling you as he continued his tantalizing test of your patience.

“Hmmm?” There it was: that signature smug grin, but by this point, your senses were too preoccupied to even register it.

“I can’t take this anymore.”

“Is that so?” He lifted you off the wall, pushing your laptops to either side so he could lay you on the table, spreading your legs to give him clear sight of your dampening sex. He snickered. “You look much better like this…” While ghosting one hand around your inner thighs, conveniently avoiding the place you needed him the most, he undid the button and zipper of his jeans with the other, sliding them down to his knees.

You found yourself licking your lips at the silhouette of his bulge, now more prominent with less restricting fabric. Of course, he noticed; “so these are you true colors… I never would’ve thought you were such a dirty girl.” He brushed his fingers over the waistband of your underwear. “Where do you need me?” He pressed his thumb on your clit, “here?”

Your teeth pressed down on your lips in an effort to stifle a moan. “Yes…” and even though you were successful the first time, there was no stopping the sounds from seeping through your lips when Hyunjin slammed his clothed erection on you once more, picking up exactly where he left off just moments ago.

“Please, Hyunjin…” he pushed your thighs further apart, keeping them in place.

“‘Please,’ what?”

“I need you inside me, please.”

His sinister laugh filled the small room. “I don’t know if you deserve it.”

“Fucking asswipe.”

“Now that doesn’t sound very convincing…”

You groaned in pleasurable displeasure. “Hyunjin… please, I’m begging you. I really can’t take this.”

“Don’t you care if someone tries to come in?” He raised an eyebrow, partially in curiosity, mostly in amusement.

You glared right into his eyes. “No.”

He shook his head, clicking his tongue as he stood back. “Get up.” Any urge you had to defy him before was long gone; you did as he asked and he harshly turned you around by your waist, pushing you toward one of the windows.

While pushing you down against the glass with one hand, he reached in his front pocket with the other, grabbing a condom. He ripped the packaging with his teeth, skillfully sliding his boxers down to slip the vinyl over him.

Not wanting to wait any longer, you aided him by pulling your panty down leaving yourself completely exposed for his taking, and you quickly pushed your hands on the glass, bracing yourself for the next few seconds, but nothing could’ve prepared you for that stretch that came. Your wrist slid down on the window pane to bite back a scream.

“So tight.”

><><><><><><><

A/N I’mma be honest: I had a fucking field day coming up with all those weird insults

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juminly · 4 years ago

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As The Rush Comes II (Ikémen Vampire Theodorus Van Gogh x Reader)

Summary: As the events of the night unfold, you finally find yourself at Theo’s apartment. Tension is high and your bodies are hot. Would this be the night you finally leave the friend zone? What happens after that...? Keep reading. You’re going to want to. Part I. AO3 Rating: Explicit/Mature (It’s smut, so...)

Word Count: 4170 approx. PS: It’s gonna be one sexy ride. Get ready... ------------------------------------------- Madonna was so right. Time goes by so damn slowly. You always wondered why that song always pissed you off and now, you knew why. It was so hard to breathe. The air is suffocating even as the cold breeze hits while you were speed walking out of the club. If only you could tear the dress off yourself, you definitely would’ve. It was so hot in there. It was so hot whenever he was near. The dress barely covered you but still, you were both denying yourselves the pleasure of even kissing one another. The possibility of both of you just losing yourself and succumbing to the overflowing desire that built up from months worth of sexual tension and frustration. Your chest felt so tight and your entire body was trembling with anticipation and excitement, as Theodorus laced his fingers with yours tightly, guiding you from the club to his apartment, which happened to be only a few blocks away. Tonight, you were going to have the best sex of your life. No… tonight would mark the day where you would continue to have the most incredible and mind-blowing sex of your life. That’s not right. Tonight, you’ll be getting the best you’ve ever had, ever will have. Why? You looked to your side, at the criminally handsome man that was holding your hand and leading you with a determination that you’ve seen before, when he talks about his passion for art… He wasn’t the type to express himself and you’ve spent enough time to be able to read in between the lines, the subtleties in his behaviour and especially… his expression. You always knew that you were hopelessly in love with this man… but never thought it was this bad. You were smitten, whipped and… insert every other word you can find in a thesaurus that would indicate that you were beyond prepared to sell your soul to Lucifer just to be with Theodorus. The only thoughts whirling in your head were of him and you couldn’t stop staring at him. Your cheeks might have turned into a pair of tomatoes if he actually caught but you didn’t give any fucks. Whatsoever. Yes, you might have been a bit inebriated, big squint on the “a bit” part but you were sober enough to be aware of everything that happened, was happening and was about to happen. Thrilled wouldn’t begin to describe how you were feeling, especially when you’ve been waiting for this for so long. No passing out this time, bitch. You better not.

“Am I going to have to carry you, Hondje?” You simply shook your head in response. “Come on, then. I don’t need the deadweight. We’re almost there.” His raspy baritone snapped you out of your daze and muttered a quick “I’m good” before picking up the pace as fast you could, practically jogging by his side through the narrow hall that would lead you to your destination. Now, that sounded like horny irritation and it was incredibly hot, to say the least, and you just absolutely loved hearing that in his voice. He wanted you as much as you wanted him and the bubbling in your chest felt like you had a bunch of small guppies in there, the thought making you giggle a little too loud. His long and hurried strides suddenly came to a halt and if it weren’t for his firm grip on your hand, you wouldn’t have fallen on his broad chest and gotten a good whiff of that intoxicating cologne of his. He was wearing that on purpose, right? To your defense, the lack of equilibrium was definitely not because you were trying to get classily drunk as you called, which meant wine drunk in your dictionary. He was guilty, of course. Handsomely and unapologetically the reason for your tunnel vision where you could only see him and the tsunami of sensations that eroded anything else that was not caused, done, inspired by him. He peered down at you with forced concern, clearly because he didn’t want to have to use the brain between his shoulders but rather be led by the one between his legs. His expression immediately softened and a reluctant chuckle resounded in his chest as you beamed up at him, with your chin resting on his chest in your horny happy state. You had that “I’m so happy I could suck you off right here and now” look on your face but this show had to go down in the privacy of your man’s home…? Yeah, YOUR man’s home! “I know what you’re trying to do, Hondje.” He breathed out with fake admonishment, shaking his head as he let go of your hand, proceeding to smoothly wrap his arms around your waist. While taking out his keys and unlocking the door to his apartment, boyish glee radiated from his face and the pale blush sprinkled over his cheeks and ears only spurring you further. Your small hands held on tightly to the white fabric of his button-down shirt, leaning on him and pushing every inch of your softness against his body. “Hm… Theo… You have no idea what I’m trying to do.” The moment the path before you was clear, you clung onto his collar tightly and shoved him into the apartment with all your force, making him stumble back until he entirely hit the wall at the entrance of his condo. Your bodies collided like two magnets indiscriminately attracted to one another, every ounce of your being practically vibrating as you slammed the door with a back kick of your heel as if you were offended that you actually had to bother to make that action. Not the wisest move on your end. The impulsive nature of your actions caused a loud smack that made you jolt in surprise and trip, slamming into Theo, knocking the breath out of him while prompting an irresistible rumble in your lover’s chest. This is definitely not how you expected the night to go but seeing him laugh so carefreely made your heart soar to horizons that you never thought you’d reach. Excuse yourself, Redbull. You and your bullshit lies. Did wine give you wings? Or was it Theo? Well, was it a failed attempt to take the lead? Probably. You know nothing called failure, the man of your dreams was in your arms. Your motto now was : never say never! You lowered him to your lips forcefully, his hands settled firmly on your hips to balance himself as he leaned to meet you, allowing you to capture his bottom lip between your teeth and sucking on it aggressively, inciting a marvelous grunt from him. He didn’t necessarily “allow” you to do anything, per se, since you weren’t planning on taking no for an answer. With one hand snaking to his nape, lacing through gold streaked chestnut and tugging roughly while your other hand reached for his manhood, hard and begging for your attention. You squeezed generously and Theodorus hissed against your lips, his fingers painfully enveloping your wrists, making you cry out before spinning around and pinning to the wall with his hips. Fuck… fuck… He was already so hard and you felt his erection against the thin fabric of your dress as he rolled his hips against you with such diligence and so much worse that his tantalizing demonstrations in the club. He let one of your wrists go, bending slightly but never breaking your kiss to hook his arm under one of your knees and then the other, the spot where you needed him the most meeting his hardness in abrasive delight. It was now your turn to let out a mewl as he ground against you, humping you against the wall while his mouth ravaged yours, biting on your lips and claiming dominance as he slid his tongue inside. Your kiss was whiskey, wine and simply pure sin. You tried to fight. You really did but just feeling him graze your sensitive spot over and over again had you your body screaming for more and growing weaker by the second. You tried to break the kiss to take a breath, he gnarled a threatening “Breathe through your nose”and silenced you with his lips. Breathe him in. Breathing him in was all that you could do. All you wanted to do. You were not even out of your clothes, not even on his bed, barely touched by him and your imminent release was not close enough. Threading your fingers through his chestnut locks, you tugged at his hair with all your might, pulling him away from you forcibly before he latched onto your neck hungrily, licking a long wet strip across the column of your neck before nipping at the sensitive spot right under your jaw and sucking hard. “Ahhh Theo!” your gasps grew louder as your breath quickened. That was going to leave a mark and it was gonna last for a few days, definitely. Not that you cared or even wanted to cover it. No, no… You wanted to actually flaunt it. Whatever anyone else thought, they can suck it. Cause you definitely were planning on doing some sucking. His momentum became erratic, his clothed hardness continued to rub against your swelling core, the thin layer of fabric that separated you from him worsening the throbbing. With a sinful snicker, his masterful ministrations persisted as he peppered you with alternating nips and suckles, blowing on each bruised spot ever so gently, sending a pleasurable chill through you. You couldn’t help but squeeze him tightly with your thighs, trying to make him stop his vile grinding, momentarily refraining from the attack of love bites on your poor, poor neck. “Theo, please… Please… Let’s go to your room.” With a breathless scoff, Theodorus licked the line of your jaw to whisper, husky and low. “Since you were good enough to say “please”, I’ll entertain your request.” With a grin, his lips met yours once again in a lingering kiss, a little less urgent but passionate all the same, as he carried you with practiced and precise movements to his bedroom. Good thing he was able to do so blindly because you were not planning on letting go of him. You were already addicted to his taste and you still have yet to have more of him… all of him. He literally kicked the door of his room open that you almost… almost felt sorry for the poor wooden door that would most probably have an angry dent. But you absolutely didn’t care as you embraced him tightly against you, crashing your lips down on his and biting his lower lip and sucking on it with such bewildering tenacity that he groaned against your lips, his icy eyes flashing open as he had to tear himself away from your grip in order to set you down. “Fuck, Hondje… Are you planning to bite my lips off?” he growled against your lips, pulling away from you before you leaned in again, biting the air that separated you and giggling unceremoniously. “So that’s how it’s going to be.” His boyish smile had absolutely no semblance to the intensity that his eyes exuded. It was all a disguise and you could see it in the glint of mirth in his hooded orbs, making the rabbits in your stomach hop around hysterically. “You really think this is the time to be funny, hm?” he warned as he literally peeled your legs off him, his hands lingering a moment too long on your silky skin, leaning down to set you on the floor. He then wrapped strong fingers around your wrists, unhooking your arms from his neck. He took two steps back and let his weight fall on the edge of his king bed, sitting with his legs spread wide. “Strip.” One word. Just one word and your motor functions decided to fail in this crucial moment. You blinked a few times, standing completely still and feeling your heart fall into the pit of your stomach. Your body was the epitome of your insecurities and the fact that you had to reveal yourself willingly to him was exhilarating and horrifying. Leaning towards the former though. “...What?” “You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself, Hondje.” He wetted his lips, his demeanour predatory. You told your heart to stop beating so fast, but it would not listen. You weren’t scared but more like… scaroused. Never had a man looked at you the way he had… Time to suck it up and get shit moving. “It’ll make things easier and faster if you do the same.” you cooed, voice laced with hope and arousal. You couldn’t help but tremble at the thought of seeing him out of those godforsaken clothes that he looked so fine with but you were sure… absolutely and positively certain from the glimpse that you got of his defined chest that he was most probably a god in the guise of a man. “I set the rules. Now be a good little pup and do as you’re told.” He leaned forward, rolling his shoulders as he propped his elbows on his knees and joined his hands together. Tilting his head, that was your cue to get the show started. You didn’t bother to weigh in the pros and cons in your head. He was already ravaging you with his eyes and you wanted to see how he would look like once he’s through with you. “Hm… is that how it’s going to be, Master Theodorus?” the corner of your lips drawing up seductively as you bent forward, giving him ample view of your cleavage, that you had your lingerie to thank for, while you unclasped the strap of one heel and then the other, kicking them off your feet. It didn’t go unnoticed when he heard Master, how the rise and fall of his chest grew a bit faster while he licked his lips and even bit his lower lip for the briefest of moments. Kink Unlocked! You were going to give in. Not because he asked you to, but because you wanted to. Sapphire burned into you, your sense of reality was distorted by thoughts of him and the utter sight of him. Entranced by each other, it wasn’t even a possibility to separate you or pull your gaze away. You knew very well what you both wanted. Melt into each other’s embrace and become one. And… in other words, fuck like there’s no tomorrow. “As you wish, Master. I’ll be your good Honje so tell me. What do you want me to take off first?” “Remove the dress. I’ll take care of your rest.” he demanded as he rearranged himself, his own erection clearly making him as antsy as you were. Seeing that he was clearly suffering as much as you were, you were definitely even more soaked now and trying to fight not to squirm and rub your legs together. Your cunt needed some sort of attention or else you were going to lose it. The moment he touches you… he would discover how much of a Hondje you truly were for him. Fuck him and his irresisitble… everything. Literally. He was a hard-headed bulk of tantalizing muscle that caused your blood to boil and turn into bubbling magma, his calculating gaze boring into you as a Master would to make sure their pet would do as they’re told. The thought alone made your body inconsequentially heat up with an undeniable surge of emotions that you couldn’t pinpoint. With a relaxed smile, you pushed down one sleeve to slowly hook your arm out, your touch breezing gently over your skin before you repeated the motion on the other side. “There’s no rush, Hondje. The more time you take, the heavier your punishment will be.” The huskiness of his voice was laced with lust and desire, but so much more. Crazed frustration and faux composure. If you didn’t get it, you were gonna get it… bad. You couldn’t afford to stall and suffer for an orgasm. You just wanted to do it, for heaven’s sake. You gripped the hem of your dress, pulling it down leisurely so you could wriggle yourself out of it, exposing yourself bit by bit to him. Your chest, waist and hips but sliding it all the way down the smooth length of your thighs. His lips parted to suck in a deep breath when your white strapless bra and matching underwear came into full view. He was clearly straining to remain composed as you were both drawing this out, far more than you both could withstand. Once your dress hit the floor, your Master called for you. “Come here, Hondje.” Your lower lip prisoner between your teeth, you ambled towards him with an intentional sway in your hips as you were slowly warped into the heat that radiated from him. Extending his arms forward in an inviting gesture to welcome you into his embrace, large hands smacked your behind, fingers splayed over your round cheeks, groping the soft flesh roughly and you yelped as he pulled you further between his legs, your chest on the same level as his head. He looked up at you and you didn’t dare look away. Were you dreaming? “You’ve been hiding all this from me, Hondje.” He nuzzled his face between your breasts while his hands fondled your behind roughly, his fingers tracing the seams of your lacy white panties and caressing the skin on the back of your thighs, inciting a tingling sensation to spread through you. “I haven’t been hiding, Theo. You just never made a move… Ah!” You gasped as he bit the top of your breasts, trailing wet kisses over your chest, he nipped and sucked on your skin mercilessly, cascading whimpers from you as he relentlessly coaxed them out of you like the handle of a music box. Every brush of his fingers on your skin, dipping along the valley of your lower back and tracing upstream to unclasp your bra, discarding the garment dismissively. Eyes shining brightly, Theodorus snuck a quick glance at you before marveling at the soft mounds before him. He rubbed a soothing hand on your back, a silent gesture of reassurance filled with so much… love? His hands pressed against your frame, urging to get even closer, bringing your breasts right to his mouth. “You’re perfect, mijn liefje…” He mumbled with such reverence… which you didn’t expect. He knew more than anyone and could tell what you were thinking without you having to say anything. Warm breath hovering over one of your breasts before he extended his tongue, languidly rolling it around the pearly bead before sucking on it fiercely, the dichotomy of his approach coaxing soft sighs as you felt his other hand finding your behind once again, hooking his finger under your lacy whites, dragging them down with the light stroke of his knuckles over every inch of you he could reach before letting the nuisance fall. “Theo… Mhm…” you tried to protest in vain. Staring up at you with an arrogant smirk, he proceeded to lick around your areola, grazing his teeth against your nipple, chuckling at the sound of your loud hiss as he continued to alternate between soft blows to cool your skin and licks that warmed you. Your body trembled under his gentle displays as he paid the same exact attention to your other breast, leaving a trail of love bites on his way from one to another. You placed your hands on his shoulders while you lifted one leg and then the other to straddle him. Your fingers shakily stroked his neck when you noticed him flinching as you touched the spot right under his ear. His breath caught in his throat and if you weren’t so intent on watching his every movement, you wouldn’t have been able to see it. Tonight, he was the artist, painting you with marks of unspoken secrets. “Verdomme… I don’t even have to touch you to see how wet you are. What a naughty little thing.” He rasped as he let go of your nipple that was held captive in your mouth. About what he said? He wasn’t wrong. Definitely not. You were so damn soaked and his advances didn’t fail to make even more of your arousal pool and drip from your aching core. “You’re the reason why I’m so wet, Master.” you groaned in response to his teasing, leaning down to ensnare him however you could, sucking on his thin lips, his tongue or anything you could get her mouth on. He tasted so fine, so exquisite, more delicious than aged wine that you loved to a fault, you were so drunk on loving him and craved his yearning and his passion for you. You planned on feasting on him but you knew for a fact that it would be the other way around. Not that you were complaining, you were ecstatic about that fact. With his hands fondling your supple cheeks once again, Theo pulled you down on him, the fabric covering his skin only increased your frustration as you began to grind against him and he reciprocated, trying to inch closer to what you both sought. Yet, it was not only pleasure that occupied your mind but… It was not only his body you craved. Your freneticism was taking over you, enraged that he was still clothed when you laid completely naked in his lap. You cursed his damn blouse in your head and swore to rip it off him before your fingers managed to fiddle through it and slide the cursed garment away, sinking your nails over his skin as your lips never parted for a second. After his display of possession on the dancefloor, the way he moved his body against you, making you feel so vulnerable in front of prying eyes…. You were asking for this to happen… and you were thankful that he took the bait. You wanted him to be yours and claim him as such, or claim you, it didn’t really matter. His arms firmly pulled you to him, bestowing open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, along the length of your neck and settling on your collarbone, suckling and biting on it with so much fervour. What was he doing to you? This was already so much and you hadn’t even started. You arched your back, biting your lower lip to suppress the moan that roused from you was in vain. All your efforts to resist him were naught. You were at his mercy. You didn’t even want it. You wanted to taste his almost wrathful need, unleash all he had locked up deep inside. Only for you to see and feel. Your voice echoed across the room, filling it with loud moans and your heavy breathing. If Theo didn’t have a good hold on you, you would have definitely fallen back. Your body was turning to putty, shaking in his embrace, whimpering softly then giggling as his lips found your ribcage. The warmth of his tongue against your chilled skin lit you up inside further, shivers running up and down your spine. Always so strategic and meticulous, upon discovering your weak spot, he chuckled devilishly and targeted it single-mindedly and you were already on the verge of losing your mind, already. He discovered how sensitive you were and how easy it was to get you over the edge, or at least, tease you enough to reach greater heights before crumbling as he insidiously pulled you back down. You wouldn’t let him have the fun though. You struck your nails deep into the skin of his shoulders, meandering down his back, gracing it with scratches that mostly probably bled. Pride swelled in your chest as you heard low grunts emanating from the depth of his chest. If you were in any other situation, you would’ve been scared but you knew he was going as crazy as you. Your breathing quickened as your heart began doing somersaults in your chest, looking down into ocean eyes, inviting and wicked, already submitting to her will and forceful ways. His hips never ceased their movement, grinding on you mercilessly, feeling the cock rub against your drenched folds. Your hands cradled the handsome visage that you had come to love while your fingers traced over his sharp jaw to the sensitive skin behind his ear. As his tongue expertly slid down the column of your neck, whines and moans unintentionally escaped from your puffy and reddened lips. He groaned against your skin with each beautiful sound you made and whined as you kissed him under his ear, feeling him shudder beneath you and his motions becoming less coordinated. “Y/N…” You… You were able to make him weak and hear him call out your name with such unbridled need. More... More… You needed so much more. --------------------------------------------- Link to PART 3.

Tagging le Theo simp squad + tag list: @delicateikemenmemes @sweetlittlemouse @nad-zeta @nafeary @raymiazaki @munarisblog @karmaaf @kisara-16 @ikefool @cinnatwisted Thank you to my wifey @shhhlikeme for her support! 💜 Hope you enjoyed this 💜 Please feel free to leave comments/feedback! Masterlist

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mpcomagnetics · 3 months ago

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kumarmagnetics · 3 years ago

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 5 years ago

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Jail Bait - Dean x Reader

A/N: Have a personal favorite of mine back. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Warnings: PWP. Kinda public sex. Eavesdropping guard. Dry humping. Dirty talk. Talk of masturbation. Bit of praise!Kink. Unprotected sex. I believe that is all.

Word Count: Roughly 3,300

“Wait in here.” The guard stated, closing the door to the claustrophobic room behind you. An echoing clang was loud enough to make you jump. Your eyes took in the setting that held your teeth on edge.

There was a small cot resting in the corner. A tiny, half destroyed nightstand held a lamp that carried a dust-riddled top. Inside was a bulb that flickered every thirty seconds. No natural light was allowed in. Cool, white, chipped brick walls surrounded you. Caging you in.

“There you are,” Only Dean Winchester could rumble quite like that as the door squeaked heavily. The sound made you turn back to see him just as he shoved the jacket he carried at the officer at the door. Your eyes glued onto the way he swaggered into the cage with that familiar bowlegged gait no one else could quite pull off. “Lookin' prettier than ever.”

He'd only been gone for a day. Yet, somehow, he seemed even taller than you'd remembered. Maybe because he isn't next to his brother.

The thought faded away as he approached. Giving you an even closer look. His deep green eyes were reminiscent of a summer forest in the low light. The dim setting hid his freckles that dusted over his nose. All the ends of his hair were normally lighter from all the exposure to the sun being a hunter gave him. But, in that room, even that was darker than ever despite remaining in the spiked fashion he'd adopted. It brought out the deep red of the cut along his cheek bone. Emphasizing the lifestyle he led. The shadows over his lightly stubbled jaw made it seem sharper. His lips were the lone point of him that seemed soft. Only the orange suit he wore was bright, and stretched against his broad form in a way that brought forward carnal thoughts.

For the first time, you saw what anyone else might have when they looked at him. He really was dangerous. “H...hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” The white of his teeth flashed with the unsavory grin he sent your way. “We're gonna be a while, Jax.”

“Jax?” Your brow lifted. Looking at the man you'd known for years in amazement. He didn't look worse for ware. Instead, he pea-cocked forward. A little too comfortable for your liking.

Then, those words sunk in. Settling over you like a threat. It was only supposed to be a delivery. Yet, somehow he expected more time to be spent in the cell.

“We're friends.” A loud guff from outside sounded. Proving the officer could hear what was being said outside of the room. “Kinda.” The hunter you knew took another step forward. You faltered backwards without realizing it. Until his lips curled up even further at the action. He paused, then. Taking in everything your body language was screaming. “You scared of me, sweetheart?”

“N...No,” But, part of you was.

It was the tension he carried. That hungry look in his eye. You two had been dancing around the heat between you for as long as you could remember. And the thought that it was all going to come to an end point in that conjugal room? Utterly nerve wracking.

“Good,” His voice was honey as he took another step forward. You told yourself to hold still. To not give into what the ambiance of the room demanded you do: run. Somehow you managed it. Even when his large, thick hand gripped the back of your neck as he stepped toe to toe with you. “Miss me?”

“Dean-”

Before you could tell him to drop the act, his warm, soft lips slanted across yours. Stealing the breath from your lungs. You moved to pull away in surprise, but his grip at the base of your skull kept you in place.

“He's listening in,” The words were murmured against you softly. Just barely separating from your mouth. Another firmer touch was your reward for not giving him away. His nose's tip pressed into your cheek as his chest moved closer. The other strong arm wrapped around you to hold you in place. “Did you bring what I asked for?” You nodded, the action brushing your lips against his again. Sending a small shiver down your spine.

“Cigarettes and salt,” Your purse was lowered from your shoulder gently as you whispered. Instead of getting into it, Dean dropped it to the ground. Never taking his gaze from your eyes. “I thought-”

“I'll get to those, later.” There was no nervousness as he leaned forward so slightly. Just enough to give you that sweet pressure, again. His eye lashes brushed against your skin as you responded unsurely. Wanting to lean into his touch, but the unaware piece of you held you back. “For now?” A low whimper left you when he pulled back, again. “What'd ya say we take advantage of this?”

It took a moment to understand what he was saying, “You set this up on purpose.” The low hiss didn't make it far. Your hands shoved at his shoulders to move him away. The smug jerk didn't even have to take a step back at the force. Too strong and solid to be cowed by an angry female. “Why?”

“Why not?” You found yourself retreating as he moved forward. Your body made it all of two steps before you tripped over your own feet. Instead of letting you fall backwards, you were hauled up against his broad chest, again. Held there by a force he'd gained by making heads roll. Literally. “I see the way you look at me, Y/N. If we would've gotten to be alone before now? I'd've had you on your back faster than you could blink.”

His words shouldn't have made a warm, sharp jolt of arousal shoot down to your loins. But, they did. And that son of a bitch knew it.

“We're not really alone.” The out was there. Or, so you thought. His filthy, shit eating grin promised you that he wasn't fazed by the officer's presence.

“He isn't going to ever see us, again, when this is all over.” His low timbre vibrated through his body, against you. “Who gives a shit what he hears.” You should have leaned backwards when he moved in to nip at your ear lobe. Instead, you found yourself gliding into the magnetic pull of him. Had you really thought you could resist Dean Winchester when he turned it on full blast? It was a mistake you silently promised yourself you'd never make again. He was far more potent than you'd given him credit for. “In fact, I hope he listens in. Hears what he's never going to have.” Slowly, he loosened his grip. Seeing if you'd try and escape again. You didn't. Those sinful lips of his drug upwards as he looked over at you. “Wanna help me make him jealous, sweetheart?” Your nails pressed against the prison garb he wore as a shaky breath snaked its way from your lips. “Wanna finally feel me fill that sweet little pussy of yours? Like you've thought about during all those long...steamy showers?”

“How- You listened in!” The outrage didn't have a chance to manifest as he sucked against the sensitive slope of your neck.

“Fuck yeah, I did.” He chuckled. Voice somehow deeper. The strength of it was enough to make your knees weak. “You ever listen to me?”

“N...No,” The stutter gave you away. You had. The broken, small gasps he'd released in the room when he'd thought you were sleeping had haunted you. But, you hadn't realized it had been you he'd been picturing as he'd pumped himself.

“Liar,” Dean called you out on it. Losing every bit of patience he'd ever carried. His hands lifted up to pull at the off the shoulder baby-doll top you'd worn to look less like a hunter, and more like the good girl that had been seduced by a bad boy. If only you'd realized that's exactly what was going to happen in that tiny room. “Did you think about me doing this?” The smooth slope of your breasts came into view as he talked. “Did ya get wet thinking 'bout it?” Then his hot mouth was on the skin he'd exposed. The open mouthed kiss made you arch towards him. Any resistance you'd had was gone. He owned your body in that moment.

“Yes.” Anyone who said honesty never paid off hadn't met Dean. You were pushed backwards until you were back against the cot. Left with the cooling damp patch he'd placed on your skin while the top he wore was tugged up and over his head.

It wasn't the first time you'd seen him shirtless. You had stitched him up more times than you'd cared to count using floss and a sewing needle. The jagged scars were more familiar to you than they'd be to him. But, it was the first time you'd seen him shirtless and on the prowl. Eyes darkening in anticipation as he took in the position he'd put you in.

“Take your shirt off, Y/N.” Slowly, you sat up. It wasn't hard to do what that deep voice ordered. Pulling the dainty material away from your skin was the easiest task you'd been given in ages. You watched the way his nostrils flared as he took in your bare breasts. In the end, you weren't sure if it was the cool air or that heave of his strong body at the sight that caused your nipples to harden without a touch. “Jeans,” He nodded towards the stylishly ripped pants that covered your lower body.

You kicked away the socks and shoes before doing as told. When you slid them down your legs, Dean swallowed audibly. The material clung close enough that you'd had to don a thin thong to prevent lines.

As a reward for your obedience, he shoved his own pants down. Leaving him in the black boxers he was known to sleep in when he stepped out of the telling orange. Only this time, the thick bulge you'd only caught glimpses of was stretching the material. Full and proud down a considerable length of the left thigh. Making it all that much more real.

“Are you gonna keep staring...or are you gonna give me what you promised?” The breathy challenge was all he needed to crawl onto the creaky bed you rested on while you spread yourself out over the blanket. His skin rubbing against yours was electric as he caged you in place with his weight.

Dean's kiss was more desperate that time. Teeth and tongues clashed as the need that had been ignored for so long came to a head. He slotted his hips between your thighs. Your hands wrapped into his short hair. His thick erection swelled impossibly larger against your core as he ground in. The thin pieces of fabric doing nothing to halt the warm friction.

As the coil inside of your belly tightened, his steady rocking increased a bit. The hard point of your sensitive nipples were rubbed by his pectorals as he moved. Your nails that slid across the roughed up flesh above you dug in every so often. Admiring the way the muscles gave, and then strained into your grip as you urged him on. Needing more.

The first time should have been slow. Tender, even. That's what every romance novel promised it was like after a long, slow burn. Nothing with Dean was ever that predictable. Instead, the way he pressed against your slit had you pushing over that first edge in no time.

You cried out in pleasure against his mouth as you clenched around nothing, “Shit, Y/N? Already?”

“It's your fault,” The whine left you as he helped you ride it out. Feeling the dampness of your arousal seep through the ruined panties right onto his boxers. Your cheeks were warm as you looked up at that smug face. A bit of sweat dotted your hairline from the sudden orgasm. “Shut up, Winchester.”

Your hand wrapped around the base of his neck so that you could pull him back down to you. He laughed against your lips in triumph while you grunted; trying to shove his boxers down his hips. Needing him inside of you that very moment.

“So impatient,” Dean murmured, pressing sweet kisses onto your mouth as he helped you on your mission. “It's fucking sexy.” The material went flying across the room before he tugged at your panties. Sending them in the same direction over his shoulders. Instead of ramming into you like you expected, he paused. “Jesus,” The calloused tips of his fingers traced over the swollen and soaked slit you presented him with. “So fucking wet for me.”

“I...I told you.” Your knees widened, letting him get a better view when he peaked downwards. Your palm rubbed over your breast as you sought out more friction. “Dean...I need you inside of me. Please?”

His groan wasn't the only one you heard. The peeping guard let out his own sound of pain. Somehow, you didn't find it in you to care.

“Come here,” The hunter lifted your ankle, and guided it up to his shoulder. Spreading you wider. “The other one, too.” His low, convincing tone held you captive. Following his order with an ease that should have scared you. This was Dean. The man you'd known since you were a kid. And he was about to fuck you senseless. “Good girl,” He praised, making your body melt further as your thighs strained. When you felt the hot tip of him nudge at your entrance, he grinned. “Like that?” You nodded at the hint of a stretch. You'd like it better if he'd snap into you further. Almost as if he could read your mind, he pushed forward. Giving you more of that fullness he'd promised. “How 'bout that, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” Your head rocked back as you moaned wantonly. Not caring how far your voice echoed. You wanted to move your hips. Wanted to him to bottom out inside of you right then and there. But, in the position he held you in, you could only grip at his ribs and try to urge him into what you needed.

“You're so tight like this,” His teeth gritted as he pulled out of your hold almost all the way. Only to slide right back in. A little deeper that time. Marveling at the way you sheathed his dick. “Hear that? Your pussy taking me?” The pornographic squish of his body pressing into you filled the air. “Fuck,” His head dropped when you clutched around him desperately. “You're so fucking perfect.”

Finally, he lowered his forehead the rest of the way down to yours. His breath fluttered over your face as he pinched the pine gaze shut. Parting his lips as he let you take him fully.

Your own eyes squeezed shut at the pleasure of it. How he throbbed so deeply inside of you. Dean's little breathy groan filled the air when you tightened your hold. Silently begging him to let loose.

The room didn't stay quiet long. You let out a strangled shout when he started picking up speed. His arms were ramrod straight as he gripped the mattress around your head. Bracing to get better leverage so that his thrusts could get harder. The angle shoving the tip of him against your cervix in a way that felt so good it almost hurt. He rubbed against your g-spot as if he'd mapped it out in advanced.

Dean's voice cracked as he talked you through it. Letting you know how good you felt. Just how much he liked the way you sounded, calling his name in that blissed out way. Choked groans mixing into the fray. Only becoming more frequent with each thrust. Losing himself in the hold your body surrounded him with.

Sweaty skin smacked together. His balls hit your ass. The cot creaked, and smashed into the wall at the force of Dean's hips rocking into the back of your thighs. Outside the door, Jax was getting a hell of a show.

“Dean...fuck! Don't...oh, god! Don't...don't stop.” You whined as you clawed up to his shoulders. Needing for him to let you get that high that was waiting impatiently inside of you. Your body tensed as he managed to brace himself on one arm. Reaching between your bodies to rub circles around your swollen clit. “D...Dean!” That was all it took for you to spiral.

He didn't slow. Fucking into your spasming channel faster. Sloppier, even, as he felt himself getting close. One thrust. Two. By the third, he lost it. Stiffening as he rocked forward. His orgasm sending the hot cum into your still quivering body.

“Fuck,” He growled out at the sensation of you milking him for all he was worth.

Once he could, Dean pulled away gently. Letting your legs fall bonelessly to the bed as you tried to steady your breathing. He wasn't any better. Face flushed, hair mused, and sweaty from all the work he'd put in.

“Remind me not to fall into any more traps. I don't think I can move,” Your arm dropped over your eyes. Too tired to appreciate the eye porn in front of you.

“Ten minutes,” A ragged sounding Jax warned from outside the door. You groaned at the thought of moving so soon.

“Get up, sweetheart. We'll spoon later.” Dean leaned back over you. The kiss he delivered was sweeter that time. Soft, even. Then, he swatted your thigh. Ruining it. “I'm keeping your panties. A souvenir. Something to get me through the cold nights, alone.”

Your eyes rolled. Knowing that he'd be out within two nights, according to the plan. But, you didn't call him on it as you forced yourself upwards. Feeling the burn he'd caused in your muscles.

“Whatever it takes,” You huffed out with another groan. He grinned in satisfaction at the noise as you dressed. Just as you tucked the goods into Dean's pockets, the door opened.

“Alright, break it up, you two.” The grumpy man ordered, tapping his baton in his hand as a warning. Looking more than a little frustrated from what he'd had to endure.

When your eyes lowered, you saw the problem. You wasted no time booking it out of there. Ignoring Dean's laugh as you moved.

“What's so funny?” Jax demanded as Dean shrugged into his jacket.

“That girl...” A low whistle left the still kiss swollen pink lips. “I think I'm gonna have to break out to give her a night she really deserves.” At the unimpressed look, he didn't stop. Focusing on the bounce of your ass as you moved away. “Man, I am freaking velvety smooth.”

“Yeah...you're a real prince.” The guard huffed out. “Get out of here.”

“Will do,” Dean grinned, moving back towards the cell block. Eagerly awaiting the reunion that was coming.

If you thought he'd keep his hands to himself after that, you were wrong. Poor Sammy was gonna have to start bunking, alone. If he didn't? Well, Dean decided that he might just have to get back into prison for a few nights, after all...

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger

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thesportssoundoff · 6 years ago

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What Happens When You Take A Bad Idea And Make It Worse? LET’S TALK ABOUT THE BRAWL FOR ALL!

Joey

March 11th

The Mother Fucking Brawl For All.

Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd actually get around to this but there are miracles around us and what better time than now? The Brawl For All is generally regarded as one of the worst ideas of all time in a business with an entire genre dedicated to grown men and women smashing each other with fluorescent light tubes and slamming one another on beds of nails and thumbtacks. In a business that up until the mid 80s featured nazis goose stepping around and up until 2003 or so regularly and routinely featured women wrestling in their bloomers, the Brawl For All is the one idea that every human being unanimously believes was a disastrous failure. It's the one unanimous tire fire that not even it's most ardent supporter can put out. Not even WCW's junkyard battle royale which featured multiple injuries due to WCW not gimmicking the cars and just having guys taking bumps onto cars and through glass windshields is hated this much. The Brawl 4 All is one of those things people can't even sum up with "It was bad!" and move on. You have to go through layers and layers and levels of badness. You have to view it almost as an affront to your sensibilities, as a personal attack on you as a fan. Hell not just as a fan but as a human being!

Vince McMahon and company have failed in previous ventures before and ventures after. The XFL, the World Bodybuilding Federation, the ECW relaunch, 65% of the undercard Attitude Era angles, their really expensive WWE Films attempts. Some could even argue that the brand split originally was a failure in some respects given that Smackdown never really got going on its own and Raw declined sharply from the brand split onward. That said those failures at least had SOME inkling and morsels of promise behind them. Not the Brawl For All. It was a bad idea from the start, a bad idea during and made even worse by what happened afterwards. Also? The Brawl For All is one of those things that every wrestling fan and every wrestling personality has a hard opinion on, the kind of shit that lends itself to so much gossip, rumor and conversation. Over the next few weeks, I want to discuss the Brawl 4 All a bit more. I want to delve into it because it's as close as we'll ever get to a universal no hope no spin failure by the WWE and because...well...it's one of my favorite fuck ups of all time. It's always been something that fascinated me from watching it live as a casual fan to laughing at it as a smart fan when I stumble across it to making a near yearly pilgrimage to youtube to watch every single fight of it I can find before it got yanked. It's one of those wrestling stinkers that like December 2 Dismember or the Heroes Of Wrestling card that I'm magnetically attracted to. Every wrestling fan FEELS for the Brawl For All even if those feelings are utter disdain for everyone involved with it.

The Concept And How Fucked It Was From Jump

To get why this even happened, you have to go back in a time capsule. Despite catching fire in 1998, the WWF (for the purpose of being as thorough as possible here, we're gonna call 'em as they were when this happened) is still struggling to keep track with WCW Nitro. They're in the midst of an 83 week long ass eating from Ted Turner's Atlanta based wrestling promotion and "good ideas" are running dry. Understand that at this point the WWF has the single hottest property in the business but that sole property isn't enough to get over the hump vs the NWO, the cruiserweights, an ascending Bill Goldberg, Bret Hart, the return of Sting and what was genuinely just a better overall card. Even if Wrestlemania 14 gave birth to so many great stories going forward (Austin vs McMahon, the hard reboot of DX as a faction, Kane vs Undertaker's first match), WCW is in the midst of its highest grossing year ever. Vince McMahon has James Harden putting up 50 points a night and winning on his back but he's still looking up to the Golden State Warriors. Making matters worse, both companies are in the pro wrestling equivalent of an arms race. Remember how when the UFC and Bellator in 2014 and 2015 signed anybody with a pulse because they were trying to fill up two insanely bloated schedules? It's a bit like that. Anybody who is good (and not a walking flag factory so to speak) is either in WWE or WCW at this point which means if you ONLY have two hours of content, you've got a lot of guys doing nothing.

The Brawl For All on its surface and without malice seems like an awful idea to try and remedy that. Pit sixteen dudes in a shoot tournament and let them go at it with set rules in place. It gets guys on TV, gives them something to do and at the end, in theory, the winner doesn't just get a big financial prize but come out in the end as a star. It's a chance to do something with a section of guys who are doing absolutely nothing at all. Sounds good, riiiiight? Well now let's break into some sexy rumor mongering about what this really was about:

-We can start with the mastermind! Vince Russo is the man who apparently concocted this concept which should be somewhat redeemable if what I laid out above was entirely 100% accurate. It's not entirely the case, even according to Russo's own words. Per Vince Russo, a large reason the Brawl For All came to be was that he had a beef with one of the wrestlers (Bradshaw aka John Bradshaw Layfield aka that guy who got flattened by ring announcer Joey Styles) consistently bloviating that he was the toughest guy in the locker room. Right off the jump, any sort of noble designs are whittled away. Now often in pro wrestling, there's 100 different stories to the same single event often shared by people IN the same room. Imagine how pronounced it is that a) everybody agrees that it was Russo's idea, b) everybody is under the impression that it was over a tiff with a pro wrestling with no shoot fighting experience and c) EVERYBODY agrees it was one of the worst concepts imaginable. The Brawl For All's entire seed was planted not so much out of a design to get guys work and on TV but out of wanting to see a loud dude get punched up. That's insanity out the gate.

-The Brawl For All was by invitation only and depending on who you believe, the process to select wrestlers was rather...exclusive. Bruce Prichard discusses in his podcast with Conrad Thompson that he was the guy who had to round up the talent to fill enough spots in the tournament. Prichard says he had to play to the egos of wrestlers and in a separate interview, Bart Gunn talks about how he got recruited basically by another member of the writing team as well. The name Bart Gunn will become pretty important down the line so jot that down in your notebooks real quick. Wrestlers were recruited with what seems like a pretty easy enough pitch and one I'd imagine that the UFC uses today with their fighters; basically a "I mean don't you believe you're the toughest dude here?!" and a "We'll pay you!" and we're off to the races. Despite this, the Brawl For All struggled to get people to fill in the spots in no small part due to the fact that no star is going to partake in an absolutely stupid concept like this when they can just make their money being a star. The Brawl For All isn't even a TUF; it's a PFL tournament where all the dudes nobody else wants are lumped into a tournament format with the golden carrot of a $100,000 prize at the end of it.

-Perhaps worth more than the $100,000 prize was the either legit or illegitimate golden carrot of the winner getting to work a program with "Stone Cold" Steve Austin. Understand that no one single act was as hot and drawing as much money at this time as Steve Austin was. He was the it guy, the biggest star in the business and noway near close to peaking as a talent either. The Brawl For All $100,000 prize? That's cool and all plus that was basically the downside guarantee for a year's worth of work. The opportunity to work with Stone Cold on a pay per view? That's the big money ticket. That's the opportunity to be a made man like how working with Hogan in the 80s was. For top guys, that opportunity may come along at any given point. Again going back a bit to TUF and the PFL, imagine if the UFC offered eight of its guys the chance to compete in a tournament for $100,000. Enticing! Now imagine the winner gets to fight Conor McGregor on a PPV. Tell me if it doesn't get every guy not named Khabib and Tony Ferguson jumping into it. That would be a great no doubt can't miss opportunity!

EXCEPT

-It was probably a lie. Scratch that. We can factually tell that any sort of Austin match for the winner was a lie since every person involved (sans one) says it was real and the winner never actually got said shot. Imagine if the tournament wasn't build on anything truthful but instead on a "The winner will be in the mix" from Dana White. While Bruce Prichard says there was no official plan for the winner to face Steve Austin, everybody else involved from talent to wrestling guru Jim Cornette seems to suggest there WAS a plan in place for the winner to win. That is, assuming of course, the winner was the guy they thought was going to win all along. More on that in the future but just know that the Brawl For All's fighters were flirted with a hush hush unofficial promise of facing Steve Austin that was probably never going to be fulfilled unless won by a specific party. Bart Gunn says he was told the winner would face Stone Cold and well....more on that at another time. Let's just say sports entertainment and combat sports have a long storied history of perhaps listening to the matchmakers a bit too closely.

-The rules for the Brawl For All? Well those were a mess. According to Bruce Prichard, the rules were still being worked out the week of. According to Steve Blackman (a dude who Bob Holly admits would've won the whole thing), there were plans to allow leg kicks and those rules just happened to get yanked the week of. The glove size seems to change depending on who you ask as the WWF says they were 16 ounce gloves but Bart Gunn argues repeatedly they were 22 ounce gloves. Some of the guys admittedly didn't even think it was a shoot fight either and at least one fighter fought thinking it was a work. According to Bart Gunn, even halfway through the tournament he kept expecting it to be a work suddenly. The "official" Brawl For All rules had points for takedowns, points for a knockdown and points for more punches thrown across three one minute rounds. The scorecard part doesn't even matter at this point. To be honest, it didn't even matter then.

So let's talk about the big problem here

So imagine putting together a tournament designed around the concept of "Who's the toughest guy!" in a show where the audience is conditioned to believe that the toughest guy is the world champion or if the champion is a heel, the toughest guy is the babyface chasing said champion. We already in theory know who the toughest guy is or at least we're willing to suspend our disbelief. Also if we're to believe that the winner of the tournament is the toughest guy in the company, why aren't the big name tough guys we've been told are the tough guys competing in it? The concept falls flat right there on its own but the hole isn't deep enough. We gotta go from six feet to nine feet so now imagine that you've come up with this concept that pees on the first rule of your product. Make it worse. Make it so that the audience is being told to believe that what they see HERE AND ONLY HERE is legitimate. NOTHING is as frustrating in pro wrestling as "a shoot." For those not addicted to sports entertainment meth, a shoot is something on the program that the audience is led to believe is real. Now for something to be "real" on a show that's already "real" then that in turn means what we're seeing is fake, right? So a "real fight" on pro wrestling ultimately means that what we're seeing is fake. Now most wrestling fans since the 70s and 80s have probably believed wrestling in some form or fashion is/was not real. We accept it as entertainment and as Jerry Jarrett once lovingly put it "theater of the illiterate." The key is to not remind us that what we're seeing is clearly fake (a problem wrestling fans seem to be having right now with Ronda Rousey). Reminding the audience that what they're saying is predetermined scripted fakeness and then asking them to invest into the REAL portion of the product that breaks their illusion only works if a star is doing it. It doesn't work if a bunch of random dudes and mid carders are doing it. Imagine if in the middle of one of those UFC Embedded gimmicks, we saw Conor McGregor rehearsing the press conference lines and then he went out to try and sell his beef with Cowboy Cerrone as legitimate. You've already hurt the audience's feelings and the Brawl For All actively did that at a time where all WWF fans wanted was to watch Stone Cold kick ass and DX make inappropriate jokes. You've brought DOWN the segment.

So now we're nine feel into the hole. Let's go sixteen feet deep. Nope! Let's go from here to fuckin' middle earth on this bad boy; pro wrestling is a TEAM effort. It requires two or more able bodied people to work together to create a magnificent fake fight spectacle that tells a story and ends with you becoming emotionally invested in its finish and what's to come. That requires participation. Now come up with a tournament where guys are going to beat the holy shit out of one another FOR REAL and then have to go back to participating with one another as if nothing happened! Every single wrestler involved in the Brawl For All has spoken about the bad blood and residual effects the Brawl For All had. Also remember these are not trained fighters either. Some of these guys are amateur wrestlers who probably haven't done that for years. Some dudes dabbled in kickboxing or BJJ on their spare time or in years outside of wrestling had some formal combat sports . Some of these guys were bodybuilders by trade and some of these dudes were just pro wrestlers who happened to have a few "So and so cleaned out a bar room with one hand and six beers!" type magical fishing trip stories. So you're taking a bunch of ego driven (some chemically enhanced) guys and sending them out there to beat each other up on a Monday or a Tuesday and then magically get over it in time to make the house show loop where they're going to team together. We've officially come out the other end through China, folks.

And yet despite all of this very obvious right in front of our faces warning signs, the Brawl For All existed.

Next time we'll talk about who was in it a bit more---and why IF the Brawl For All had a true tertiary motive designed to elevate one guy to superstardom, it was an even bigger failure than humanly possible.

#MMA #WWF #WWE #The Fuckin' Brawl For All

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