#MONSTER FUCKING HUNTER BABY....................

[estinyans]

monster hunter is fucking AWESOME

[box-dwelling]

A thing I've never heard talked about but is so down right poetic as a wyllstarion concept is that the park right outside Cazadors was the one Wyll played in pretending to kill monsters when he was a kid...

[grumpy-bat-central]

Shitty sketch but

I'M NOT WRONG

[e-farmer]

While i was bored, i doodled a lil baby version of the bugified Gammoth design I'm reworking a bit, so here, have a big baby bug.

As you could probably tell, the design is going to that alot of influence from mothra larvae. Also, i would've drawn some fur and stuff on the big baby, but uhh... I don't really know how to do that honestly, still an amateur imo. 😅

[rougerosedoesart]

I made this after I watched the Finale of The Owl House, and lemme tell you I c r i e d

I had the idea of just making it look like a poster or smth

[tobii-kadachii]

For fun i did a general mock-up of my hunter in Rise! I dont have any screenshots on me as I’m away from my computer but here’s the general vibe :D!

[lordrandreaming]

Me when I hear MH Stories 2 Wings of Ruin is announced for PS4...

[vividbeast]

i wish the dev/s who decided that every master rank waist piece needed an item with a three percent MAXIMUM drop chance a very go to hell

[solarflame33]

YEA BABY I LOVE TO BOGGI

the term "i love to boggy" will now be incapable of leaving my lexicon anytime soon

[lomlhwa]

bite me (l.hs)

pairing: vampire bf!heeseung x human gf!reader

preview: heeseung loves to scare you. so tonight, you've agreed to a sick game of hide and seek. better pray he can't smell you.

tags/warnings: fem reader, lots of biting, blood drinking, marking, kinda cnc, edging, chasing through the woods, "if i catch you, i fuck you" type shit, pet names (whore, slut, cockslut, baby), impact play, monster cock heeseung, heeseung is MEAN, degrading, color system, masochism, fingering, kinda public sex but it's late at night in a forest, fear play, kinda predator/prey, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, sweet aftercare

trigger warnings: kinda cnc

wc: 2.2k

song recs for this fic: bite me by enhypen

a/n: little late from halloween to be posting a vamp fic but here we are

you open your front door, finding that your house is pitch black and empty. you feel around for the light next to the door and flip the switch. you’re met with a sticky note stuck to the banister of the stairs. you walk over and pick it up. ‘hide. if i find you, you’re fucking mine.’ cold sweat drips down your forehead. you love when heeseung plays this game. you crumple up the note and book it. you head for the bathroom just as you hear the front door open, indicating that your hunter is here. 

you scramble to try and find a hiding spot, opting to jump in the bathtub and shut the curtain. you plop yourself down in one end of the tub and put your hand over your mouth to stifle how hard you’re breathing. you hear heeseung climb his way up the stairs, humming to himself. “where are you, my pretty whore?” he says in a sing-songy voice. “i know your pussy is dripping for me right now.” you clench your thighs together, hating how well he knows your body. you can hear him wander into your shared bedroom, clicking his tongue when he doesn’t find you in there. 

you hear him walk towards the bathroom and stop in the doorway. “i know your pretty cunt can’t wait to be filled, isn’t that right…” he trails off as he walks over to the bathtub and throws the curtain open. “gotcha.” his eyes flash bright red and you can’t help but scream. you’re frozen for a moment before you clamber out of the tub. you manage to sprint past heeseung, down the stairs and out the front door. you head for the forest behind your house, despite it being late at night. you look over your shoulder and spot heeseung walking very confidently after you. you swerve and try to get yourself out of his line of sight. 

you take a corner too fast and catch your foot on a branch. you come crashing down to the ground, catching yourself on your elbows. the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through you pushes you to get up and walk it off. you run for a while more until your legs and lungs are positively aching. you come across a fairly large tree and decide to hide behind it to catch your breath. you peek around the tree and can’t spot heeseung, so you start to relax. 

that is until a hand wraps around your neck and slams your back against the tree, knocking the wind out of you. “you fucking thought you could outrun me?” you wrap your hands around his wrist and do your best to shake your head. your eyes fill with pure fear as he bares his fangs at you. you dig your nails into the skin of his wrist, desperate to get him to release you. “color?” he asks, loosening his grip on your throat. “g-green,” you respond, gasping for air while you can. with this confirmation, he tightens his grip once again, lifting you up and dropping you to the forest floor. 

he gets on his knees at your feet, grabbing your ankles and forcing your legs open. he’s quick to slot himself between your legs, right at your core. he traps your head between his arms, slamming his palms down onto the ground by your head. “i didn’t expect you to run out of the house, baby. i guess you just really wanted everyone to listen to me fuck you, huh?” he taunts you, grinding his hips against you, earning him a whimper from you. “get off me,” you demand, trying to roll away. he catches you, shaking his head. “the little brat doesn’t know when to give up, does she?” he grabs your wrists with his hands and pins you down. his irises flash bright red again as he leans down to connect his fangs with your throat. you cry out, kicking your legs to try and escape his hold on you.

he lets your hands go and trails them down your body. he finds your skirt and flips it up, grabbing at the waistband of your underwear and tugging them off you. he discards them somewhere in the woods before connecting his fingers to your cunt. he circles your clit as he begins sucking on your neck, relishing in the iron taste of your blood. the mix of pain and pleasure has your mind spinning, your whole body trembling. “h-heeseung,” you croak, pushing at his head to try and get him to stop draining you. “y-yellow,” you add and he immediately pulls his teeth away. 

you cough and wipe the extra blood away from your neck as heeseung inserts a finger into your hole. your back arches at his attempt to distract you from the pulsing pain in your neck. you look up at him, his face illuminated in the moonlight. his mouth is covered in your blood and he can’t help but smile at you. “you’re always so fucking delicious, slut.” he emphasizes his words by adding another finger and prodding at the spot where you need him most. your back arches off the ground, a strangled moan leaving your throat. heeseung forces your shirt up and over your breasts, his free hand coming up to pinch at your sensitive nipples. “i think you need a punishment for being so fucking disobedient,” he feigns pity, raising his hand and landing a hard slap to your face. “answer me,” he demands. “yes, i d-deserve a punishment,” you answer. 

he lands hard smacks across your torso, leaving bright red and pink handprints all over you. he thrusts and wiggles his fingers around inside you, the pleasure between your legs growing. you reach up and dig your nails into his shoulders, your mouth falling open in a silent cry. “c-close, heeseung,” you mutter, the chord in your stomach tightening. a sinister look spreads over his face as he gets you closer and closer, before pulling his fingers out of you completely. “you really think dirty, disobedient whores deserve to cum? let alone without asking?” he removes himself from between your legs, flipping your skirt back down. “run some more, i like hunting my prey. and if you wanna cum, beg me to fuck you while you run,” he stands up, gesturing to the expanse of the forest. 

you’re quick to get to your feet and run, your speed significantly diminished. overcome by heightened emotions, you begin to cry. “seung, please,” you cry out, ducking and dodging branches. “please fuck me, i’ll behave!” you scream, wiping your eyes of their tears. you pause and look around, finding that heeseung is nowhere near you. “heeseung! please!” you take off running again, having no idea where you are or where you’re going. you’re overwhelmed and scared in the thickly wooded forest. you’re crying so hard your chest hurts and you can barely see. you collapse to the ground, holding your head in your hands.

“heeseung stop hiding, i know you’re out there,” you mumble, wiping your eyes for what feels like the millionth time. you know that if you say the word, he’ll put an end to the game. but under all your very real terror, you still want him to fuck you. you feel a presence behind you and you turn your head to find your boyfriend towering over you. “is my prey sacrificing herself to her predator?” he asks, crouching down and examining your face. you nod, pouting at him. you no longer had the energy to run from him. 

he grabs you by the hair on the back of your head and forces your neck to bend at a weird angle. “tell me you want me to fuck you. beg for my cock like a good whore,” he demands of you, despite having you run and beg just moments prior. with the angle your head is bent at, you have the perfect view of how hard his cock is straining against his pants. you've never made him this hard before. “heeseung please, i need you to fuck me. i’ve done everything you’ve asked of me,” you sob, your whole body aching. he almost takes pity on you for a moment before returning to his mean headspace. “good girl, lay down on your back,” he gestures to the ground with his eyes. you’re quick to follow orders, wanting to be on your absolute best behavior from here on out. 

you dig out a couple of sticks from under your spine before fully settling onto the forest floor. heeseung is quick to get between your legs, the rough fabric of his pants rubbing against your exposed clit. you gasp, throwing your head back. heeseung reaches down between you to undo his pants. he doesn’t bother removing them all the way, opting to slide his pants and boxers down to mid-thigh, just enough to let his pink and swollen cock free. he drags the tip of his cock up and down your slit, gathering your arousal to make getting inside you easier. he leans down to kiss you, his tongue swirling with yours. he nips at your bottom lip as he sheathes himself into you. your body shudders, the relief of finally being filled sends a new wave of desire through you.

heeseung wastes no time in drawing his hips back and slamming into you. his tip slams into the gummy spot deep inside you, making you see stars. you can tell that despite his demeanor, he wants you just as bad as you want him. he groans against your mouth, your pussy clenching around him in the most delicious way. you suck him in perfectly, your cunt begging for more. “what a slut. d-desperate for cock even deep in the forest. fucking pathetic,” heeseung can’t help but let out a sinister chuckle at the way you clench with the way he talks to you. “just so cock drunk and i’ve barely done anything.” heeseung fucks into you with so much force that your whole body is jerking on the floor. your back arches and you dig your head into the forest floor. you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the pleasure. this displeases heeseung and his grips your face with one of his hands. “open your eyes and fucking look at me. i wanna see how fucking good i make you feel,” he demands and your eyelids flutter open.

you hold eye contact with heeseung as he loses himself in the sensation of your soaked heat. you breathe heavily as you feel your orgasm approaching, your body becoming desperate for release. “seungie…” you whine, gripping his forearm and digging your nails into his soft skin. you wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him as close to you as possible. “f-fuck baby, if you do that i won’t be able to pull out,” he whines, his own orgasm approaching him swiftly. “d-don’t pull out, give me cum,” you blabber, your thoughts getting fuzzier by the second. “please let me cum,” you beg, your eyes welling with tears. you move your hands from his forearms to wrap around his neck and pull his lips to yours. “cum for me, baby,” he says between kisses. he thrusts into you at the perfect rhythm, drawing you closer and closer to your orgasm until you’re twitching uncontrollably. “oh fuck-” he stutters as he releases into you soon after. his hips stutter as he rides out his orgasm, relishing in the way your walls milk him dry.

he stops moving and for a moment just remains inside you, catching his breath. he admires your tear stained face in the moonlight, finding you the most beautiful in moments like these. he pulls out of your slowly, a small whimper erupting from you at the emptiness. heeseung pulls his pants back up and scoops you into his arms. he carries you all the way back to your house, all the way up to your bathroom where he had found you just a while ago. he places you on the counter before turning around to run a hot shower for the two of you. as the water heats up, he helps you out of your clothes before removing his own. he lifts you again and holds you up under the warm water. you hum at the comforting warmth of his body heat mixed with the water. “hi baby,” he finally speaks, tucking your hair behind your ear. “hi seungie,” you respond, looking up at him with a giddy look. “i love you,” he adds, a stupid smile spreading across his face. “i love you too,” you rise to your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. 

“you’re so pretty. you’re perfect and i wouldn’t trade you for the world. you know that, right?” he stares at you as you nod. “i know.” heeseung spins you around and lathers shampoo in your hair, aiming to remove the leaves and sticks that remained in your hair. “did you have fun?” he asks after rinsing your hair carefully. you nod, smiling. “i was genuinely scared at some points but honestly i think it made it more fun,” you giggle. heeseung sighs in relief. “well, i’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” he embraces you tightly, wanting as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. he takes you out of the shower, drying you off and running to your room to get some comfy pajamas. 

he holds you tightly as you settle into bed together, whispering sweet nothings about how much he loves you and how he would never want to actually hurt you. his soft, honey voice slowly lulls you to sleep, your muscles finally relaxing for the first time since before you got home. 

© lomlhwa 2024

[unpretty]

not going to tack this onto @derinthescarletpescatarian's post because it was long enough but here is my understanding of some of the various subgenres commonly encountered in light novels/web novels/licensed webtoons:

isekai: another world. if they end up in a different world it's an isekai. it doesn't matter how they got there. sometimes the other world is explicitly a video game the protagonist is playing. they're not dead or anything, just in virtual reality. they go home at night and it's fine.

portal fantasy: it does matter how they got there, actually. they went through a portal of some kind. wherever they end up, they keep their minds and bodies. maybe in the other world they have powers, but maybe not.

progression fantasy: they are going to level up like a video game character. there may or may not be an actual leveling up mechanic. they might just get stronger or acquire more wealth and powerful allies as it goes on. they will always kick more ass. hundreds of beavers is a progression fantasy.

litrpg: western term for 'the characters explicitly have video game mechanics'. there is probably a System of some kind. characters are aware of levels and power tiers. most controversial subgenre, lots of people hate this.

dungeon break/monster hunter: dungeons or portals appear in the real world, some people get powers that let them fight the monsters. lots of people try to tell me this is just litrpg but i argue that they are distinct subgenres with significant overlap. not every litrpg is this. you can probably find traditionally published american versions of this pre-dating video games and the litrpg concept.

transmigration: this is when truck-kun intervenes. there are other ways it can happen, but usually a character dies (hit by a truck is the most common trope) and wakes up in a different body. usually an isekai, usually it's into a story or video game, but it doesn't always have to be.

regression: a character dies, but instead of dying, they wake up as their younger self with all their memories from before their death. this is explicitly not an isekai, except when someone gets fucky with it and reveals that a transmigrator was actually also a regressor the whole time.

loop: if they regress more than once it turns into a loop. this is distinct because sometimes with regressors they just have the one chance to not fuck things up this time. some loop stories also have characters transmigrating a bunch of times.

villain isekai: usually transmigration. oh no i died and woke up as the bad guy in a story! now i gotta try not to fucking die!!!

romfan: romance fantasy. it gets called romfan instead of romantasy because it came first and is being translated probably.

otome isekai: also usually transmigration and also often romfan. you are now the prettiest princess and all the boys want to kiss you. i assume there's a 'harem' version of this For Men but i don't read those and can't tell you anything about them.

villainess isekai: usually a combination of the above three. most likely to be very meta and funny. i have a weakness for these ones.

divorce revenge: there might be a real name for this but i don't know it. sometimes this is paired with regression but not always, but it's very often a kind of progression fantasy. features a woman divorcing her shitty husband and then living her best life, which keeps getting better as her husband has to watch her kick ass and then cry about how he blew it. there are so many of these.

childcare fantasy: i think this includes both the ones where someone transmigrates into a baby, and the ones where they transmigrate to take care of a baby. i don't like this genre enough to check. but 'formerly abused child gets loved and coddled and anyone who tries to hurt them suffers' is a major component of this subgenre.

there's definitely more but my attention span has waned. here's some comics that are on my reading list after the cut, there's going to be undescribed screenshots because i'm lazy. you may need to find these elsewhere if you don't want to deal with tapas or webtoon and their paywalling systems.

The Greatest Estate Developer: transmigration villain isekai and progression fantasy with litrpg elements. architect uses his knowledge to save his own ass and also his new family, gets powers, everyone will unionize whether they like it or not.

Lout of the Count's Family: transmigration villain isekai and progression fantasy. ends up in otome isekai recommendations a lot despite technically not being an otome, on account of the eye candy and shipping potential. the webnovel has turned into like six different genres by now and is asspull central but i read it anyway. protag says he just wants to save his own ass so he can relax but does it by coughing up blood constantly.

The S-Class Hunters That I Raised: regression dungeon break litrpg. guy with shitty powers regresses and has to figure out how to make his power of taking care of people suck less, turns out it's OP as all hell.

Villains are Destined to Die: villainess transmigration otome isekai, maybe a little litrpg? there's definitely a system. protag just wants to go home because the visual novel she's in is notoriously difficult and she is at constant risk of being murdered. i like this one so much i own it in print.

Marriage of Convenience: regression romfan. not an isekai!! protag hated her life and died in poverty and shame after her husband died, this time she's going to try not doing that.

Villainesses Have More Fun: villainess transmigration otome isekai and progression fantasy. protag is very excited to be the villainess because she was the best character. she loves being rich. unfortunately at least one plot point raises the question 'why is that boy white'

Beware the Villainess: villainess transmigration otome isekai, meta as all hell, extremely meme-able faces, does not end in an OT3 but should have.

Baroness Goes On Strike: regression romfan, also not an isekai. protag wanted a divorce on her deathbed but woke up on the first night of her marriage, wants her life to suck less this time through the power of being assertive.

The Perks of Being a Villainess: villainess transmigration otome isekai and progression fantasy. protag has resting villainess face and progresses through the power of advanced math, unregulated capitalism, and abuse of the patent and copyright systems.

I Think I've Been Possessed Somewhere: transmigration isekai starring a main character who's read so much romance fantasy that she doesn't actually know what genre she's in because everything is too generic. meta as all hell.

Your Throne: villainess, sort of transmigrator? the crafty politically-savvy villainess bodyswaps with the naive saintess heroine, shit gets dark real fast, probably not going to end with girls kissing despite my hopes and dreams.

The Remarried Empress: divorce revenge romfan. you see this one referenced a lot in the comments of other romfans because everyone hates Rashta, the waif that the emperor divorces the empress for.

Raising My Fiance With Money: romfan, fake dating, sort of a divorce revenge except it's her ex-fiance. no isekai elements at all, but the protag is ridiculously lucky with money, comically wealthy, and supported by her doting family despite having terrible taste in men. her love interest is a teddy bear with resting murder face.

When The Third Wheel Strikes Back: transmigrator isekai. the protag never actually read the book, he only knows about it through osmosis because it's hugely popular and his sister is a big fan. one of the only things he knows is that in a recent update his character dies. also, it was already a transmigrator isekai before he got there. he isekai'd into an isekai. so much of the worldbuilding suggests a canon ot3 but i refuse to get my hopes up.

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint: it's sort of a dungeon break. not really an isekai but kind of. litrpg, sure. there's regressors. there's transmigrators. there's a lot going on. kim dokja was the only reader of a terrible, ridiculously long webnovel that now appears to be coming true. the official adaptation appears to be making the webnovel less queer overall. i read the webtoon until i got impatient enough to force my way through the sometimes clunky webnovel translations. it's hard to explain orv because it's a story about stories. consuming stories, telling stories, stories told about you, becoming a story, the cost of a story. it is so long. there is so much happening. the story is resolved in the epilogue you might skip if you didn't know any better. some people find it too confusing while others read homestuck.

[zeroxxlhero]

Beast • Vi

Warnings: 18+ characters, werewolf! Vi, hunter! reader, blow jobs, bondage, teasing, rough fucking, talks of drugging, questionable consent, past established relationship, lingering feelings, slight possessive tendencies, descriptions of Vi having a happy trail, use of the nickname ‘puppy’ ‘baby’ ‘sweet bit,’ mentions of vampire!Caitlyn, power play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, vaginal sex

Pairings: Vi x You

Fandom: Arcane (League of Legends)

Your job was to hunt monsters—vampires, werewolves, the undead, and anything else that wasn't considered to be human. So what happens when you've got Piltover's most infamous werewolf in your grasp and she can't control herself despite the past that was shared between the two of you?

Vi’s consciousness returned slowly, reluctantly, dragging her up from a heavy, drugged slumber. The first thing she registered was the taste—a metallic tang of blood mixed with the acrid bitterness of drugs. She gagged, her dry tongue scraping against the roof of her mouth as her body stiffened. Her head throbbed a dull, relentless ache that paired cruelly with the chill sinking into her bones.

When she finally cracked her eyes open, the dim light seared into her vision. It flickered weakly overhead, illuminating the damp, cracked concrete of the room around her. It took her a moment to register the tension in her limbs, the cold bite of steel digging into her wrists and ankles. She was suspended against the wall, arms stretched above her head and feet barely brushing the ground. She shifted, testing the bonds, and the rattle of heavy chains echoed in the silence.

Her strength surged instinctively, muscles coiling and pulling, but the cuffs didn’t budge. A sickening realization hit her as her power faltered—it wasn’t just the physical restraints. Whatever alloy these chains were made of, it was suppressing her abilities. The familiar heat of her werewolf strength, the heightened senses, the fire that fueled her—everything felt muted, like a dimly lit flame about to sputter out.

Panic and fury rose in equal measure, but a new sensation cut through the haze. A scent. Sharp, familiar, and infuriating. Her instincts sharpened, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as a low growl rumbled in her chest. Her head snapped to the source, her glowing eyes narrowing as she took in the figure seated a few feet away.

There you were, lounging comfortably in a chair, legs crossed, one hand resting lazily on the armrest. The smirk on your face was maddening, a mixture of amusement and confidence that made Vi’s blood boil. You were watching her like she was an animal in a cage, the flickering light above casting shifting shadows across your features.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you said casually, your voice dripping with mockery. “Did you sleep well?”

Vi bared her teeth, the growl in her chest deepening. “You,” she spat, her voice hoarse but laced with venom. “What the hell did you do to me?”

You chuckled softly, leaning forward slightly in your chair. “Me? Oh, Vi, don’t give me so much credit. You did most of the work yourself.” Your tone was infuriatingly nonchalant like this was just another casual encounter. “You should thank me. It’s been so long since you let the wolf out. I just… helped things along.”

Her jaw tightened, her glowing eyes boring into you as she tugged at the chains again. The metal bit into her wrists, drawing a thin line of blood, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stand the smug look on your face, the way you seemed to enjoy every second of her struggle.

“I’m going to kill you,” she snarled, her voice vibrating with rage.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair. “Is that so?” you mused, tilting your head as if considering her words. “You seem a little… tied up at the moment.”

The taunt ignited her fury, her muscles straining as she pulled harder against the chains. But the cuffs held firm, their enchanted weight draining her energy with every movement.

“You’re a coward,” she hissed, her teeth bared. “Can’t beat me face-to-face, so you resort to this?”

Your smirk widened, your gaze sweeping over her like she was a piece of art. “Coward? No, Vi. I’d call it… resourceful. You haven’t been yourself lately. Too much time pretending to be human. You’ve forgotten what you are.”

Vi’s growl turned into a snarl, the sound echoing in the confined space. She wanted to tear your throat out, to rip you apart with her claws. And yet, beneath the boiling rage, something else simmered. The heat in her veins wasn’t just anger—it was sharper, hotter, and far more dangerous.

You stood, the movement slow and deliberate, your boots clicking softly against the floor as you approached her. She tensed, her glowing eyes locked on you as every fiber of her being screamed to attack. But the damn chains held her back, leaving her helpless as you stopped just inches away.

“Did you enjoy your little snack?” you asked, your voice low and teasing as your fingers brushed her jaw. She jerked her head away, but the chains didn’t give her much room to move. Your grin widened at her defiance, and your hand trailed downward, your fingers ghosting over the hard ridges of her abdomen visible through her white tank top.

“You’ve kept yourself in good shape,” you murmured, your tone almost reverent as your hand lingered for just a second too long. “I’ve missed this… missed you.”

Her body reacted before her mind could catch up, heat flaring under your touch. She hated it, hated the way her muscles tightened, the way her breath hitched. Her rational mind screamed to lunge for your throat, to end this, but another part of her—the wolf, primal and raw—felt something else entirely. The lines between hatred and something darker blurred, twisting her fury into something volatile.

“Get your hands off me,” she growled, her voice low and dangerous, but there was a tremor beneath it. She hated herself for it, hated the way her body betrayed her.

You leaned in, your breath warm against her ear as you whispered, “Or what? You’ll tear me apart? Do it, Vi. You’re close enough.”

Her teeth clenched, her jaw tight as she fought the conflicting emotions raging inside her. She could do it. She could end this right now. But she didn’t. Something inside her stopped her, held her back, and infuriated her even more.

You pulled back slightly, your smirk never faltering as you met her glowing eyes. “That’s what I thought,” you said softly, your voice dripping with satisfaction. “You can hate me all you want, Vi, but we both know it’s never that simple.”

With that, you stepped back, leaving her seething and breathless. The heat in her veins burned hotter, her hatred for you tangled with something she couldn’t name. And as you turned and walked back to your chair, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the stillness, she realized this was far from over.

Vi’s breath was ragged, her chest rising and falling as she glared at you, her glowing eyes burning with barely contained fury. She struggled against the chains again, the sharp clink of metal filling the room, but it was no use. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“What are you going to do with me?” she snarled, her voice low but shaking with anger.

You leaned back in your chair, arms crossing over your chest as your smirk shifted into something colder, more calculated. “Oh, right,” you began, your voice almost casual, but the undertone of malice was unmistakable. “I’m turning you over to Piltover. They’ve been very interested in getting their hands on you. Seems there’s quite the bounty on your head.”

Vi’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and a string of curses left her lips. “Those bastards are still after me?” she growled, her voice dripping with venom. She tugged at the chains again, her muscles straining uselessly against the unyielding metal.

You scoffed, the sound sharp and dismissive. “Still after you?” you repeated, a mocking lilt to your tone. “You killed three enforcers, Vi. Piltover doesn’t just ‘forget’ about things like that. They want you locked up—like the true beast you are. And once they’ve got you in their cages, they’ll make sure to treat you like the dog you’ve always been.”

The words hit her like a slap, and she felt her anger boil over into something hotter, sharper. Her glowing eyes burned brighter as her lip curled in a snarl. “Watch your damn mouth,” she growled, her voice low and dangerous. “I didn’t kill those enforcers for no reason.”

“Oh?” you said, raising an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. “Any noble reason you had for tearing them apart?”

Her teeth clenched, her jaw tightening as the memories surfaced unbidden. The blood. The chaos. The lives she’d tried to protect, only to end up being painted as a monster. “It wasn’t that simple,” she hissed, her voice thick with frustration. “You don’t know the whole story—”

“Don’t care,” you cut her off abruptly, waving a hand as if brushing her words aside. “Whatever happened between you and Piltover? That’s your mess to clean up, not mine. Save your excuses for them. I’m just the middleman here.”

Her hands curled into fists, the chains rattling faintly as she strained against them once more. “You’re a damn coward,” she snapped. “Selling me out to them like this. Is this what you’ve become? A lapdog for Piltover?”

You laughed, low and sharp, the sound grating against her ears. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself. This isn’t about loyalty. It’s about business. And you?” You gestured toward her with a flick of your wrist. “You’re a very lucrative business opportunity.”

Her growl deepened, reverberating through the room. “You’re scum,” she spat, her voice vibrating with barely-contained rage.

“And you’re staying right here,” you retorted coolly, your tone suddenly devoid of humor. “Chained up, where you belong, until I hand you over to them. Whatever happens after that? Well, that’s between you and Piltover.”

She glared at you, her glowing eyes blazing with defiance. Her body screamed to lash out, to fight, to destroy the chains and rip you apart. But she was trapped, helpless, and for now, all she could do was seethe. “You’re making a mistake,” she growled. “They’ll screw you over just like they screw everyone else.”

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug, unconcerned. “But that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

You leaned back in your chair again, your smirk returning as you watched her, the tension in the room thick and heavy. “So get comfortable. You’re not going anywhere.”

Vi’s chest heaved, her breaths coming faster and more ragged. A faint sheen of sweat began to form along her brow, trailing down her temples and dampening the fabric of her white tank top. The scent of blood and drugs still lingered in her mouth, but it wasn’t what consumed her senses now—it was you. That damn scent of yours, so sharp, so familiar, was seeping into her nose, drowning her in memories she didn’t want to recall.

Her beastly instincts stirred, clawing their way to the surface. She clenched her jaw tightly, willing herself to focus on anything else, but her body was betraying her in the worst possible way. The heat pooling in her chest, spreading lower with every second you remained in her line of sight, her cock reacting at the sight of your presence—only fueled her frustration. She strained against the chains again, desperate for some kind of outlet, her glowing eyes flickering wildly between fury and something darker.

You, of course, noticed. How could you not? The subtle shifts in her breathing, the flush rising to her cheeks, the tension radiating off her body like a storm waiting to break, and the fucking bulge in those jeans that hugged her strong thighs and calves—it was all too deliciously obvious. You leaned forward in your chair, resting your chin lazily on your hand as your lips curled into a wicked smirk.

“Oh, what’s this?” you purred, your tone dripping with mock concern. “You’re looking a little… flushed. Is something wrong?”

“Shut up,” she snarled, her voice hoarse and cracking with barely-restrained anger. Her head whipped toward you, her glowing eyes blazing, but the sight of your infuriating grin only made her heart pound harder.

You chuckled softly, the sound low and teasing as you tilted your head, studying her like a predator watching its prey. “Oh, come on now, puppy,” you said, your voice a cruel mix of taunt and amusement. “Don’t tell me you’re getting all worked up because of me.”

Her reaction was immediate. The chains rattled violently as she threw her weight against them, her teeth bared in a feral snarl. “Don’t call me that!” she snapped, her voice rising to a furious roar that echoed in the room.

But her outburst only made your grin widen. You stood slowly, your movements deliberate as you crossed the short distance between you and her. The tension in her body grew sharper, her breath hitching as you stepped close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off you.

“Puppy,” you repeated, your voice soft but dripping with condescension. You reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against her jaw. She jerked her head away, but the chains limited her movement, leaving her vulnerable to your touch.

“Don’t touch me,” she growled, but her voice wavered, betraying the turmoil raging inside her.

You leaned in closer, your lips curving into a smirk as you whispered, “Why not? Afraid of what might happen if I do?”

Her breath hitched again, and she cursed under her breath, her glowing eyes locking onto yours with a mix of rage and something far more primal. Her body was at war with itself, the beast inside her clawing for control, driven wild by the maddening combination of your scent, your presence, and the infuriating smirk that made her want to rip you apart—and maybe something else entirely.

“Shut up,” she growled again, her voice shaking as much with frustration as with effort to suppress the wolf inside her.

But you weren’t going to let up. The way her body tensed, the way her glowing eyes flickered with barely-contained chaos—it was far too entertaining. “Oh, I see what’s happening,” you said, your tone low and teasing as you leaned in just a fraction closer. “The big bad wolf can’t decide if she wants to bite… or beg.”

Her snarl was immediate, her teeth snapping at the air between you as she strained against the chains again. “I’ll kill you,” she spat, her voice trembling with the intensity of her emotions.

But you didn’t flinch, didn’t so much as bat an eye. Instead, you laughed—a soft, almost pitying sound—as you leaned back, letting your gaze sweep over her once more. “Oh, Vi,” you murmured, your voice dripping with amusement. “You’re a mess. But don’t worry…” Your smirk deepened as you took a step back, leaving her panting and glaring at you. “I like my puppy messy.”

Her growl was guttural, feral, and filled with unrelenting fury, but no matter how much she fought, she couldn’t escape the chains—or the maddening effect you were having on her. And it didn’t make it any better when you were on your knees in front of her, unbuckling that hideous brown, leather belt that she liked to wear and slipping it off.

Vi huffed and snarled with a predatory tone, a deep rumble settling in her chest as she watched you pull her jeans down to her knees, her cock jumping out in an angry flush of red. It twitched and throbbed with every angry pulse that ran through it, two visible veins running up the sides. The base of her cock held a tuft of dark hair that trialed from her crotch up to the middle of her stomach, an opposite contrast against her pale skin. And it was so much of it.

She never shaved. She had no use for it because the hair would just grow right back in a day or two and besides, Vi with a happy trail was the best Vi.

You licked your lips in anticipation. "Don't you fucking dare," Vi snarled, but her hips betrayed her by nudging forward slightly as if encouraging you to go ahead.

“Aww, puppy, why didn’t you just say this is what you wanted? I might’ve indulged if you played nice the first time.”

Vi whipped her head away like she didn’t want to be a part of the situation, her ears and cheeks betraying her feelings about the entire ordeal. “Shut up.” She snarled. A grunt stops in the back of her throat when she felt your tongue run up the underside of her cock, before you planted a wet kiss on the tip, teasing it with the point of your tongue in teasing, sexy licks.

"Mmm, you can't hide how much you want this," you murmured, your hot breath ghosting over Vi's sensitive flesh. You flicked your tongue out to taste the leaking pre-cum from her tip, savoring the salty flavor.

Vi's chains rattled as she strained against her bonds, a low growl rumbling in her chest. "Fuck you," she spat, but her voice wavered with barely-contained need.

You smirked up at her, maintaining eye contact as you slowly dragged your tongue along the underside of her shaft again. Vi's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and arousal, her muscles tensing as she fought against her baser instincts. "Just give in," you cooed, swirling your tongue around the swollen head of her cock. "You know you want to."

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself before diving in. With a wet pop, you release Vi's cock from your mouth, firmly pumping it with your hand instead. You can see the frustration in her eyes at the loss of contact, and a sadistic part of you relishes the power you have over her. But you can't tease for long, not when the sight of Vi all tussled up and desperate is driving you wild.

Without warning, you take her again, your lips stretching obscenely around her girth as you push forward, swallowing her down as much as you can in one fluid motion. Vi's back arches off the wall, a strangled moan escaping her lips as you engulf her.

You hold yourself there for a moment, savoring the feeling of fullness in your throat, before pulling back slowly. You dive in with a punishing pace, your head bobbing up and down Vi's dick with gusto. You can feel every thick vein and ridge dragging against your tongue, the taste of her pre-cum coating your taste buds with each stroke. Your cheeks were hollow as you applied more suction, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from Vi's quivering form.

Her chains rattle and clank with the force of your movements, the sound of a debauched accompaniment to your lewd slurps and gags. Vi's hands ball into fists above her head, her muscles bulging and straining as she fights the urge to reach out and grab your hair, to control the pace of your assault. But the chains held her back, leaving her helpless to do anything but endure the blissful torment you're inflicting on her.

You can taste the telltale hint of Vi's impending release on your tongue, the subtle shift in her flavor signaling her growing arousal. But before she can crest that final peak, you pull off with a wet pop, her cock slipping from your mouth with ease.

Vi's angry growl echoes off the stone walls, her hips thrusting forward involuntarily to seek out your welcoming heat. But you deny her, settling for a few slow pumps of your fist along her cock instead. You can see the anguish in her eyes, the physical manifestation of Vi's need. She's so close, teetering on the razor's edge of ecstasy, yet you cruelly keep her there, suspended in limbo, unable to find completion.

"Oh Vi," you purr around her throbbing cock. "What would your little vampire girlfriend think? Is she on your mind right now, even as I'm giving attention to you like this?" You pause, pumping her dick slowly as you gaze up at her with hooded eyes.

"Tell me, what's she doing while we're playing over here, hmm? Probably chained up, helpless... just like you."

Vi struggles to form words, her chest heaving as her pupils blow wide with lust. Guttural moans spill from her lips as your skilled mouth continues its sensual assault, all thoughts of Caitlyn rapidly fleeing her pleasure-addled mind. She can only focus on your hot, wet tongue worshipping every sensitive inch of her engorged flesh, driving her higher and higher with each flick, suck, and lick.

You move closer, your lips brushing against Vi's sensitive flesh, your tongue darting out to lap at the weeping tip. Vi moans brokenly, her body shuddering as you tongue-fuck her tip, probing for more of her.

At the same time, your hand never falters in its movements, pumping her shaft with increasing speed. You twist your wrist on each upward stroke, applying just the right amount of pressure to the sensitive underside of Vi's cock to drive her wild. Your mouth is soon joined by your lips, sucking hard at the engorged head of her cock. You hum around her length, the vibrations adding a new dimension to her pleasure.

And just like that, Vi's resolve shatters, the final threads of her control snapping like overstretched rubber bands. With a hoarse shout, her back arches, tendons, and muscles straining against the chains as her climax barrels into her at full force. Thick, heavy ropes of her seed arc through the air, painting your heaving chest with cum.

You can feel the heat of her release, and see the raw, unbridled passion contorting her features as she rides out the crest of her pleasure. Vi's fingers dig deep into her palms, almost drawing blood as her hips spasm and twitch, wringing out every last drop of her climax. Your pussy throbs in time with Vi's orgasm, the sight of her coming undone at your hands stoking the flames of your desire to new heights.

You slowly pull away, a triumphant grin spreading across your face as you rise to your feet. Vi pants heavily, still trapped in the throes of her climax, her hips twitching with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Without a word, you turn and hook a finger in the waistband of your pants, pulling them down to your ankles in a single fluid motion. Your dripping pussy is now fully exposed to Vi's heated gaze.

"Looks like you’re ready to go again," you purr, and with a coy glance over your shoulder, you line yourself up with Vi's cock. You bite your lip, keeping eye contact as you start to sink, impaling yourself. You can feel every ridge and vein dragging along your inner walls, the delicious friction quickly stoking the embers of your need into a raging inferno. By the time you're fully seated, your walls are fluttering and grasping at the thick cock stretching you open. You pause there, savoring the feeling of being so utterly filled. Then, with a throaty groan, you start to move, rolling your hips in a sensual rhythm as you chase your pleasure.

The chains clank and rattle with your movements, the sound of a debauched accompaniment to the lewd slapping of flesh on flesh. You lean forward, giving yourself the leverage to take Vi deeper. Your breasts sway with each bounce, your nipples pebbled and straining for attention.

"That's it, puppy. You’re doing so good," you encourage, reaching down to rub tight circles around your clit. Your fingers dance over the sensitive bundle of nerves, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core with each touch.

Vi can only watch with half-lidded eyes as you take your pleasure from her, her hips bucking up involuntarily to meet each of your downward thrusts. She tugs at the chains, desperate to touch you, to feel the soft skin and firm curves of your body beneath her fingers. But they hold steady, keeping her bound and helpless against the wall.

Her frustration manifested in a low growl that vibrated from deep within her chest, her canines glinting menacingly as she lunged at the restraints binding her. "Let me out," Vi rasped, her voice raw and gravelly, filled with an almost palpable urgency. "I need to feel you."

You glance back at her over your shoulder, a wicked grin playing at the corners of your mouth. "What's the matter, big bad wolf? Can't get free?" You punctuate your words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding yourself down on her dick until you can feel the head bump against the entrance to your womb.

"Fuck you," Vi snarls, her face contorting with a mixture of rage and lust. "Just sit still and let me fuck you already." She tries to rock her hips, to drive herself deeper, but the chains restrict her movements, leaving her unable to do much more than meet your thrusts with an awkward jerk.

You let out an exaggerated tsk, shaking your head slowly as if deeply wounded by her eagerness. A playful smirk dances on your lips as you lean slightly, your voice smooth and laced with feigned sweetness. “Patience, puppy,” you purr, each word dripping with mockery. “There’s no need to be so... impatient.” The air around you seems to crackle with a blend of amusement and teasing authority, making it clear that this little game is far from over.

To drive home your point, you slow your movements, rolling your hips in a maddeningly slow circle. Each rotation grinds your sensitive clit against Vi's pelvis, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core, but leaving her frustratingly unfulfilled.

"Beg for it," you demand, your tone leaving no room for argument. "Beg me to let you fuck me like the desperate dog you are."

Vi’s muscles quiver with the strain of her restraint, the tension evident in every sinewy fiber of her being. Her eyes blaze with wild, untamed fire, narrowed and fierce as they fixate on you. Behind her fierce gaze, you can almost perceive the primal beast lurking just beneath her skin, thrashing against the confines of her control, yearning to break free and unleash its raw power upon the world.

“P-Please," she chokes out, the word foreign on her tongue. "Please, let me fuck you." She strains against her bonds, her movements jerky and uncoordinated in her eagerness to be granted release.

But even as she begs, Vi knows you hold all the power here. You are the one in control, the one dictating the terms of this dance. And she hates it, hates the way her body reacts to your dominance, hates the way her cock twitches and throbs at your every command. But she also craves it, craves the way you make her feel, the way you push her to her limits and beyond.

"More," you encourage, your free hand moving to squeeze your nipple. "Tell me how badly you want to feel me tight and hot around your cock. Describe every dirty, depraved thing you want to do to me."

Vi's breath comes in harsh pants, each exhale hitching as she struggles to find the words. But you won't relent, won't give her the satisfaction of release until she bares her deepest, darkest desires. "I want to fuck you," she growls, her voice low and guttural. "Hard and fast, until you can't walk straight. I want to bend you over and pound into you until you scream. Until my name is the only thing you can remember."

Her hips twitch with each filthy promise, her cock pulsing inside your clenching heat. You can feel her getting closer, her body tensing as she teeters on the precipice of climax.

But still, you hold off, determined to draw out her pleasure, to make her beg and plead for every thrust. You slow your movements, each stroke languid and deliberate, designed to drive her out of her mind with lust. "Then what?" you taunt, your breath low enough to be a shell of a ghost. "What will you do once you have me at your mercy?"

Vi's tongue lolls out, her eyes hazy and unfocused as she struggles to concentrate. But your question breaks through the fog of desire, igniting a fresh wave of need. "I'll fuck you in every hole," she snarls, her words punctuated by the clank of the chains as she strains against them. "Until you're dripping with my cum. Until everyone knows my fucking name." Your pussy flutters at her promise, your core clenching around her as you imagine the scene she paints.

You grind your hips down hard, relishing in the feeling of Vi's thick dick stretching you wide. Each circle of your hips drags your sensitive clit against her pelvis, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. "Yes, that's it," you encourage, your voice high and breathy with pleasure. "Show them all what a good little fuck toy I am for you."

Vi's nostrils flare at your words, a low growl rumbling in her chest. You can almost picture it—you, bent over and presented like a bitch in heat, Vi's hips snapping as she takes you from behind, her teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder as she marks you for all to see.

The mental image is enough to send you careening towards the edge, your climax rushing up to meet you like a freight train. You fuck her hard and fast, your hips moving in a frenzied pace as you chase your release.

Just before you hit that sweet spot, before the stars explode behind your eyelids and your vision whites out from the force of your orgasm, you pull off abruptly. The sudden loss of Vi's cock leaves you empty, your pussy clenching around nothing but air. You can feel your juices trickling down your thighs, your core aching to be filled again.

But you deny yourself, instead reaching behind to give Vi a few rough pumps. The slick sound of her pre-cum coating your fingers fills the room, mixing with your labored breaths and Vi's pained grunts of overstimulation.

"Please," Vi begs, her voice raw and broken, "I need to cum. Need to be inside you again." Her eyes are wild, the beast within her rising to the surface, no longer content to be denied its prize.

You bite your lip, considering for a moment before giving a single, sharp nod. You turn back around, bracing yourself against the wall once more. Without a preamble, you sink onto Vi's dick, taking her to the hilt in one smooth motion. You don't give yourself time to adjust, instead starting to move immediately, your hips rising and falling in a rapid, steady rhythm. Each downward stroke grinds your clit against Vi's pelvis, the added stimulation quickly pushing you toward the brink. You can feel Vi's cock twitching and pulsing inside you, her release just as close.

You reach down, your fingers finding your swollen nub and rubbing in tight, fast circles. Your moans echo off the stone walls, mingling with Vi's growled curses and grunts of pleasure.

The feeling of Vi's cock twitching and throbbing, her sharp exhales and low moans, send you hurtling over the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave, your vision whiting out as pleasure courses through your veins. Your walls clamp down around Vi's cock, milking her for all she's worth. With a hoarse shout, Vi slams into you one final time, her back arching off the wall as she hits her peak.

You can feel her coming inside you, her hot seed flooding your core. It's almost too much, the sensation of being so deeply filled, so thoroughly stuffed. You don't let up, your hips continuing their relentless pace even as you ride out the aftershocks of your climax.

And you're not about to let Vi rest, not when your lust has yet to be sated. You continue to fuck her, each roll of your hips wringing another choked moan or gasp from her slack lips. Even as her cock sputters inside you, you persevere, your greedy cunt clenching around the semi-hard dick in a desperate attempt to coax out another load. Your juices mingle with the mess of your last release, easing the way for your frantic movements.

You can feel every ridge and vein rubbing against your sensitive inner walls, each pass sending sparks of overstimulation shooting up your spine.

Vi's eyes are glazed, her tongue lolling out as she struggles to form coherent sentences. "Nuh- uhh- I ca-can't," she slurs, her words coming out in short, choppy bursts between panted breaths. You can see her pulse hammering in her neck and can hear the harsh sawing of her breath as she tries to regain control of her body.

But your relentless assault on her still-twitching dick makes it impossible. Each movement jolts a fresh wave of sensation through her nerve endings, each drag of your hips blooming heat in her wake. "P-please, you've- I've already..." She trails off, unable to finish the thought as another tremor wracks her frame.

Each stroke brings you closer to the edge, the dull ache of overstimulation blossoming into a supernova of pleasure. Without warning, you hit your peak, your walls clamping down around Vi's cock in a vise-like grip, again. Your orgasm crashes into you, the force of it making your vision go white. You have to force your legs to hold yourself up, gasping and shuddering as you ride out the aftershocks.

But Vi is too far gone to notice your own pleasure, her own climax rushing up to claim her.

With a strangled shout, Vi erupts inside you, her seed flooding your already-full pussy. The sensation of being so thoroughly claimed, so completely marked by her essence, sends you spiraling into another mind-numbing orgasm. Your cunt clenches around her spurting dick. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over you both as you come undone by each other’s touch. You can feel Vi's thick ropes of cum sloshing inside you, her release spilling over to trickle down your trembling thighs.

The lewd sound of your combined fluids gush from your stuffed hole with each twitch of Vi's cock, the obscene noise mixing with your cries of ecstasy to fill the room. It's filthy, depraved, and utterly delicious.

As Vi slumps against the wall, her chest heaving and her limbs trembling from the force of her release, you pull off her dick with a wet pop. Her cock, still half-hard and slick with your combined juices, slaps against her belly as you move, the sound obscene in the heavy silence of the room but you don't give her time to catch her breath, immediately dropping to your knees in front of her.

You take Vi's spent flesh in your hand, giving it a few firm strokes before wrapping your lips around the head and sucking hard. Despite her best efforts to push you away, Vi's hips twitch forward, seeking more of your warm, wet mouth.

"Ah- ungh- that's- fuck!" she gasps, her head falling against the stone as you take her deeper.

You ignore her pleading, your mouth sliding down her length to take her to the root. Your nose is buried in the coarse hatch of hair at the base of her cock, the musky scent of sex and sweat filling your nostrils. You can feel Vi's pulse hammering against your tongue, her veins hot and throbbing against the sensitive muscle.

With a low hum, you start to move, your head bobbing up and down her cock in a steady rhythm. Each pass of your lips wrings a fresh moan or gasp from Vi's parted lips, the sound spurring you on. You can taste the salt of her skin, the tang of her release on your tongue. It's intoxicating, and addicting, and you can't get enough.

You continue your assault on Vi's dick, your mouth never breaking suction as you pump her towards another release. Each flick of your tongue, each scrape of your teeth, sends her closer and closer to the brink.

"Please, please, ah, oh, god!" she chants, her words no longer coherent as the pleasure mounts. Her back arches, her nails digging into her palms as she tries to find purchase. But there is none, no escape from the overwhelming sensation of your lips wrapped around her. With a sound between a moan and a howl, Vi's head snaps back, her throat bared to the ceiling. Her release hits her like a freight train, her whole body going rigid as she comes.

You can feel her pulsing against your tongue, the hot spurts of her cum flooding your mouth. You swallow greedily, relishing the taste of her on your tongue.

But even as Vi spasms and twitches, you don't relent, your mouth continuing its sensual assault. Each suckle draws another strangled cry from her lips, her voice raw and hoarse from overuse.

You can feel her softening against your tongue, yet still, you persevere, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from her exhausted body. It's only when Vi goes limp, her knees finally giving out beneath her, that you release her with a final, loving kiss to the tip.

You rise to your feet, stepping back to admire your work. Vi is slumped against the wall, her eyes glazed and unfocused, her chest heaving with each breath. Your legs feel like jelly, and your knees are weak from the intensity of your shared pleasure.

With a final, satisfied smirk, you turn and saunter away, leaving Vi to bask in the afterglow.

..

The world around Vi was hazy as she blinked herself awake, the edges of her vision blurred by exhaustion. Her muscles ached with every movement, and even after what felt like a long sleep, a bone-deep fatigue clung to her like a second skin. The soft fabric of a fresh tank top brushed against her skin, and she realized her filthy clothes were gone. She glanced down at the dark blue jeans and black socks that had replaced them. Someone had changed her while she was out cold, a realization that made her chest tighten with unease.

Her head turned slightly, scanning the room. No chains bound her wrists or ankles anymore, but the faint smell of iron—the memory of restraint—lingered. Another scent hit her nose, one she couldn’t ignore. You. It was subtle yet overwhelming, woven into the very air of the room. Her senses sharpened, and her instincts screamed to get up and find you.

Vi swung her legs over the side of the bed, every movement heavy and deliberate. She braced herself against the mattress, her breaths measured as she tried to push through the soreness. Her amber eyes darted around, searching for any sign of you. Her ears perked at the faint sound of running water, the steady rhythm of it muffled behind a door.

She was about to stand when the bathroom door creaked open. Steam curled out into the room like a misty shroud, and you emerged, dressed casually, your face damp. A toothbrush and toothpaste were in your hand, your other hand tugging a towel from your neck. Your skin glowed faintly with the freshness of a shower, and Vi’s nose twitched at the clean, soapy scent mingling with your natural musk.

Her breath hitched for a moment as a sudden memory—a wild, visceral flash—forced its way into her mind. She remembered you kneeling in front of her, sucking her cock, and fucking yourself against her until she was seeing the stars. The way you’d handled her yearning—her stamina, her size, her libido. It was overwhelming in its sense.

The wild, timeless encounter the two of you had shared flashed vividly in her mind—the way you moved, the way you handled her, the way you’d managed to put a werewolf like her down to rest. She hated admitting it, but there was a strange satisfaction in knowing that someone had finally given her a challenge. Her lips parted slightly, her breath hitching as she tried to suppress the emotions bubbling up inside her.

“Still tired?” you asked casually, your voice cutting through her thoughts. You leaned against the doorframe, drying your hands with a towel. That smirk of yours—it was infuriating and smug as if you could read her every thought.

Vi exhaled deeply, shaking off the weight of her grogginess. “So, what’s the deal?” she asked, her voice gruff. “Are Piltover’s officers coming to get me, or is this just some elaborate game you’re playing?”

You tilted your head slightly, that ever-present smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “You’re sharper than you look,” you said, your tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “But I’ll tell you this much—your shoes are at the edge of the bed, and the door’s unlocked.” You motioned toward the far side of the room, where Vi’s well-worn brown loafers rested neatly side by side.

Vi frowned, her eyes narrowing as she tried to gauge your intentions. Your words were casual, almost dismissive, but the way you carried yourself—the glint in your eyes, the confidence in your posture—told her there was more to this than you let on. She was free to leave, but something about the way you’d said it made her hesitate.

“You’re serious?” she asked, her voice low but skeptical.

You shrugged nonchalantly, crossing your arms. “I’ve got no reason to keep you here if you don’t want to stay. Go ahead, Vi. The door’s right there.”

Vi stared at you, her instincts warring with her logic. Everything about this situation felt off, like a trap she couldn’t see. Yet, there was no denying the temptation of freedom. Still, your calm demeanor made her chest tighten with suspicion.

Her gaze lingered on you, and for a brief moment, the room was silent. She could still smell you in the air, a scent that clung to her senses and stirred something primal deep within her. It made her uneasy, but it also made her curious.

“I don’t buy it,” she declared, her voice steady as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest, a defiant gesture that drew attention to her unwavering stance. A flicker of suspicion danced in her eyes as she leaned slightly forward, challenging you with her gaze. “What’s your angle? You expect me to believe you’ll just let me walk out of here after all of that?”

You took a deliberate step forward, your boots softly thudding against the ground as you closed the space between you. Vi stiffened at your approach, her body tensing like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment. But before she could respond, you gently raised your hand, fingertips grazing her cheek, the warmth of your skin contrasting with the cool air around you. Leaning in, you felt the subtle charge of the moment, suspended in an intimate stillness that enveloped you both.

Before she had a chance to fully grasp the moment, your lips brushed against hers with a tenderness that sent a spark through her. It wasn’t a forceful kiss, nor was it a hurried peck. Instead, it unfolded like a delicate whisper—intentional, gentle, and infused with warmth. The kiss lingered, a sweet imprint that hung in the air, capturing the heartbeat of the moment, before you finally drew back, your hand falling softly to your side.

“I’ll see you around,” you murmured, your voice a smooth whisper that danced through the air, playful and teasing, as your eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief.

And just like that, you vanished from her sight. With each deliberate step, your presence seemed to float away, subtle yet impactful. As you glided past her, the air around you shifted, carrying an unspoken sense of resolve. The door creaked softly as you pushed it open, and with a final glance over your shoulder—your expression unreadable—you stepped through the door, leaving her enveloped in a silence that felt both heavy and unresolved.

Vi stood there, rooted to the spot, her body tense as her mind raced in turmoil. Her fingertips grazed her lips, still warm and tingling from the unexpected kiss, while her piercing gaze flicked anxiously toward the slightly ajar door. The realization of what had just unfolded began to wash over her, each wave of emotion crashing against the shores of her stunned consciousness.

It took her a moment to pull herself out of the haze that enveloped her. With a low, guttural growl escaping her lips, she pivoted back toward the bed, the heavy weight of exhaustion pulling at her limbs. She reached for her shoes, their worn leather cool against her fingertips, and slipped them on, feeling the familiar snugness encasing her feet. Though the soreness of her muscles throbbed like a distant echo, it wasn’t nearly enough to hold her back. She felt a fire flicker to life within her, propelling her forward despite the lingering fatigue.

She stepped out into the brisk, invigorating morning air, each breath forming a delicate plume of vapor that danced in the soft glow of dawn. The ground was blanketed in fresh snow, its surface crunching rhythmically under her sturdy shoes as she paused to glance back. A flicker of hope sparked within her, a silent wish that you would emerge from the warmth of the indoors to join her in this serene winter wonderland.

But maybe not this time.

But there was no doubt that she'd see you again.

[deansbeer]

kari yaps. giving yall an angsty dean blurb that i couldn't get out of my head <3 miss my baby smookums s'much.

warning(s) smut | strong language | situationship | angst | s1 DEAN | abandonment | self loathing. ୨୧ eighteen plus! adult content | minors do NOT interact.

📖 JACKLES library.

it wasn't supposed to be like this with dean. casual was what you both strictly agreed on — no strings attached, no feelings involved. just two hunters finding respite in each other whenever paths crossed. that was the deal.

but here you are, straddling him in another stuffy motel room, his calloused hands gripping your hips as you ride him slowly. the dim lamplight casts shadows across his freckled face, highlighting every expression of pleasure that crosses his features. dean's breathing is ragged, green eyes half-lidded as he watches you move above him.

you lean down, pressing your palms against his rough ones, intertwining your fingers together. the new angle makes him groan, head throwing back against the pillow. his grip on your hands tightens, and you can feel the trembling in his muscles as he fights to maintain control.

"fuck," he breathes out, voice wrecked. "you feel so good, sweetheart. s'perfect..."

you increase your pace slightly, watching as he falls apart underneath you. DEAN WINCHESTER — the notorious hunter, the man who's faced down demons and monsters — coming undone by your touch alone. his walls are down completely, vulnerability written across his face in a way you've never seen before.

that's when it happens.

"i love you," he gasps out, the words tumbling from his lips before he can stop them.

you freeze mid-movement, staring down at him with wide eyes. the confession hangs heavy in the air between you, and you watch as realization dawns on his face. dean's hands suddenly release yours, gripping the cheap motel sheets instead, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.

"what?" your voice is barely above a whisper.

he won't meet your eyes anymore, jaw clenched tight as he stares at some point over your shoulder. the silence stretches on, broken only by your shared breathing and the distant sound of traffic outside. you're still connected intimately, but the moment has shifted into something else entirely — something neither of you were prepared for.

without warning, his hands move to your waist. those strong arms that you've admired countless times before easily lift you off of him, setting you gently on the bed beside him. you watch as he sits up, running a hand through his disheveled spiky hair before reaching down to grab his discarded boxers from the floor.

"dean, hold up—" you start, but he's already heading for the bathroom, not looking back as he closes the door with a soft click.

you lie there in the silence, staring up at the water-stained ceiling. your mind replays his words over and over, trying to make sense of what just happened. dean winchester loves you.

DEAN WINCHESTER — who keeps everyone at arm's length, who builds walls higher than heaven itself — just confessed his love for you in the most vulnerable moment possible.

and you? you don't know what to feel. this wasn't part of the plan. feelings weren't supposed to enter the equation, but here they are, complicated and messy and real.

you can hear him moving around in the bathroom, probably trying to compose himself. knowing dean, he's probably gripping the sink, staring at his reflection, and beating himself up over his slip of the tongue. that's just who he is — taking every perceived failure and turning it into self-loathing.

the thought of facing this conversation, of dealing with the aftermath of those three beautiful words, suddenly feels overwhelming. you slip out of the bed, quickly gathering your scattered clothes and pulling them on. your hands are shaking slightly as you find a piece of paper and pen from the motel's complimentary notepad.

that's all you write before placing it on the rumpled bed. it's cowardly, you know it is, but you can't face him right now. not when everything is so confused and tangled in your mind.

you're just closing the motel room door when you hear the bathroom door open. you don't stay to see his reaction, but you can picture it perfectly — dean walking out, preparing himself to bare his soul to you, only to find an empty room and a note in your place.

you know it'll hurt him. know that he'll blame himself, add it to the long list of things he carries on his shoulders. but you can't give him what he wants right now, can't pretend those words didn't change everything.

as you walk to your car, you can almost hear him in that room — probably throwing something in frustration, cursing himself for ruining what you had. classic dean winchester, turning his pain inward, letting it eat at him.

but sometimes running is easier than staying, even when you know it'll leave scars on both of you that might never fully heal.

[hannieween]

the curse | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: demon hunter jeonghan, supernatural au, demon reader › genres: angst, smut (18+) › word count: 4.6k

› 🎧: faux – katie | kiss&tell – ethan low and gen neo

› this one shot is part of my hannieween fest/kinktober special!

› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️

› warnings: smut with little plot, exhibitionism, hate fucking, switch jeonghan, switch reader, humiliation kink, breath play, dirty talk, rough fucking, impact play, sadomasochism, monster fucking, a little bit of corruption kink, creampies, degradation/praise kink, hair pulling kink, no aftercare. pet names: wicked thing, baby, baby demon (hers)

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

› author's note: as always, this is not proofread heh. i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it..... i might write more things like this in the future

the curse

YOON JEONGHAN HAD EVERYTHING A DEMON LOVED TO CURRUPT. He was not the stuffy kind that would cross to the dark side to become evil after a little persuading, no. He was cruel and dangerous.

He had all the traits you would expect from a demon hunter. You had been told all your life to be weary of his kind. But what would life be without a little fun? Corrupting Demon Hunters was delicious. Candy to the soul. If you truly had one.

Jeonghan was sitting with his friends at one of the last tables of the pub. That night, he was not engaging in conversation he was distracted. His gaze was set on you.

You concealed a smile by biting your lower lip. You knew Jeonghan kept coming back to the pub to see you prancing around the tables. There he sat, a beautiful mess, riddled with a tension that he was too blind or too naïve to comprehend.

Hunters were not like regular humans. They could sense demons from a mile away naturally, they could resist the temptations that demons offered as easily as breathing. But that did not take away from the fact that they were mortal. They had a weakness in their being that demons loved way too much.

Even if hunters and demons hated each other by nature, too. Irresistible. That is one word that you liked to use whenever Jeonghan was around. Even if he was perched on his chair, eyes on you as if you were his source of entertainment, sipping on a beer slowly.

With your back turned to him, you felt his gaze piercing your back. It set your nerves ablaze, your blood thickening under your skin, making it prickle with a thrilling sensation. You wondered if he felt the same things the longer he looked at you.

Now, Jeonghan was no fool. He only came here the nights when he was craving for fun. Other times when he is burning with need, he would just go to yours, tail between his legs. Those times were the best.

But that night you knew he was trying to come off as uninterested. That is why he had not talked to you or even made a clear invitation to walk to his table. You kept yourself away from him, letting one of your co-workers serve his friends and him.

Jeonghan drank deeply from his pint, finishing it off with a pleased exhale. He lifted two fingers at one of the other servers, ordering another. You saw it on his face now more clearly, taking the advantage that his gaze had fallen on your pretty colleague. Jeonghan was pissed.

Why was he pissed?

It had taken everything in him not to arrive at the pub that night. He had been resisting the pull he felt toward you for almost two weeks. The root of his anger did not come from the fact that he could not let more than two weeks go by without coming to see you. He has gone even longer resisting you.   

No, the real root of his anger was that every night and every day, his mind was clogged with thoughts of you, like a disease eating away at his brain. Every time he blinked or took a breath you were present in there.

He hated it.

Hunters learned to resist temptation. They invested time, blood, sweat and tears to become stronger, to be lethal to demons. Greatest weapons of the underworld.

You sighed as you set your hands on the countertop of the bar, waiting. You sneaked a look over your shoulder, winking at him once you found his dark eyes on you. Jeonghan blinked away, the tips of his ears red from both the third beer making his blood heat up and, obviously, from being startled by you.

There it was again, he exhaled the taste of beer, he could taste you as he took a breath. Like a drug making his senses go dull. He hated it.

You were a thing he could not make sense of. Yoon Jeonghan was a man of strategy. In this world, he could not afford to give in to his impulses. That gets people like him killed.

But gods, giving in felt so good.

He looked again, also knowing that you kept observing him. With great reluctance, he made a gentle motion towards the back door. It was a simple move, and easy to pass up. But you knew him.

Whereas hunters were cold and calculated, demons were alluring and carefree. Humans repelled demons by instinct, their allure being so strong and strange that humans found demons dangerous. So they would rarely mingle.

But there were exceptions. You were one of them. Jeonghan attributed your ease of blending in the human world to your beauty. Your beautiful smile, your soft hair, your radiant skin. And your eagerness to make friends made you likable. Those things humans felt attracted to.

They did not know just how fucking deadly you were. That was Yoon Jeonghan’s reason for existing, that was why he got paid handsomely: to rid the world of creatures like you, and those he could not kill, he would make them go back into hiding in the underworld.

As soon as you got to the tight, secluded alleyway of the pub, Jeonghan pressed your back against the exit door, pinning you with his body before grabbing your face with one hand, fingers digging into your cheeks before attacking you with a chaste kiss.

You grabbed the hand squishing your cheeks and tossed it off you. “Hi there to you too,” you said.

“No time for that,” he murmured with a gruff tone, you tasted the beer on his tongue. But aside from that, you tasted him.

Demons had more senses than regular humans did. A few more than hunters too. Hunters were superhuman, stronger, faster, and smarter. Demons were all of that too, but they had something hunters did not. Demons held the power to taste souls.

“It’s been a while,” you pointed between hurried kisses, quickly becoming drunk on his tongue, his taste was like nothing else you had ever tasted before. It made your blood thicken, it numbed you, and it gave you pure and uncontainable bliss.

“How many humans have you killed since I last saw you?” he muttered in between rushed, wet kisses, grabbing your wrists to pin them above your head.

“Why, do you care about humans now?” you bit back, grabbing him by the jaw to keep kissing him

Jeonghan cared about humans. Just not too much. His care for humans did not go beyond work-related. They were a necessity.

“How many?” he growled now, inching away from your face.

“One,” you said, pronouncing the syllable as though it were a tragedy. “How many demons have you killed?”

“Three,” he replied flatly.

“Holding yourself back?” you smirked, delighted that he too had been lowering his body count out of confusion.

Usually, you would take three humans per week. They were your source of energy. But you had a rule, not to Jeonghan’s knowing. You limited yourself to humans that were corrupted by transgressing against their kind. You found their sins were too tasty to pass up.

But ever since you started this push and pull with Jeonghan, your body count has decreased in number quite tragically. From taking dozens of lives a week, you barely could take more than three now. And even if Jeonghan does not operate the same way as you do, you satiate your hunger differently.

Jeonghan kills for money, he kills for duty.

“Shut up. Don’t make me take a fourth,” he muttered darkly as he leaned over to plant a slow kiss on your lips. “I’d gladly kill you.”

At that, you laughed. “Sounds fun,” you breathed, nearly swept away by his lips trailing down your jawline. “But are we spicing things up already? We’ve only been doing this for a year…”  

Now, why has Jeonghan not killed you?

“Has it been a year already?” he asked aloofly, bending his knees a little before taking your thighs in his hands, you jumping to meet him halfway.

“Time flies when you’re having a good time,” you quipped, craning your neck for him to plant wet kisses down your throat.

“So they say,” he muttered, drunk off your scent but still lucid enough to come back with witty retorts.

There were plenty of monsters in this world. Creatures far deadlier and scarier than you. Nothing, no one in this world, human or not, wanted you as much as Jeonghan did. Why would he kill you? He has everything he wants with you.

You bristled. “Someone’s coming,” you whispered, your eyes flying open.

Like a mental slap, Jeonghan came back to his senses, pulling his head back and stopping his mouth on your skin with a disgruntled sound. He eased you back onto the ground and the exit door of the pub pushed open, you grabbed his wrist, taking him down the alley and towards the path that led down the forest.

You did not escape one of your coworkers seeing you drag Jeonghan to the sea of trees. If you were a human, it would bring you terrible shame to be seen scurrying off to the forest with a man to have privacy.

But being a demon, you knew no shame. You fed off pride, greed and lust.

Jeonghan slipped his wrist off your grasp as though your touch pained him. You were arriving at a small, secluded area covered by tall and thick trees, so you turned to him, just as he used his hands to push your shoulders.

You fell back onto your ass, but you were quick enough to use your elbows as support on the ground, raising your gaze to his fascinated face.

Jeonghan had used enough strength to break human bones. He followed your body, dropping to his knees between your parting legs. “Shall we do this quickly?” he asked, grinning at your eagerness.

“Why, do you have somewhere else to go?” you arched an eyebrow. You wished your words had been laced with sarcasm.

“Would you mind if I did?” he retorted, a hand snaking to find the hem of your knit sweater, pushing it up your chest.

You wanted to say yes. After hoping for two weeks to see him, it deflated you to think Jeonghan was slipping away from you so quickly. “No, of course not,” you replied, shuddering once he gave your tank top the same treatment he did to your sweater, leaving your tits bare.

“That’s what I thought,” he sighed, dipping his head to wrap his mouth around your left nipple.

You arched your back to his lips, just as he palmed your other breast, making you moan. You had gone longer than two weeks without fucking Jeonghan, but that was in the beginnings of this relationship. If you could even call it that.

That was before fucking Jeonghan became an addiction. Demons fed on sin. You were unsure whether Jeonghan even realized that the reason why you were not feeding on human flesh was because you fed off his lust. His guilt and greed were so delicious that you did not need to reap souls.

You have missed this. But you could not bring yourself to tell him that. However, it showed in your actions, arching your back on the ground, leaves and branches creaking under you as you sank your fingers in his long hair.

Jeonghan swallowed back a sound that sounded like a purr against the plain of your breast. “Are you hungry?”

He knows. You furrowed your brow, watching him lift his head to meet your eyes. “Yes,” you admitted.

“Take your clothes off,” he orders with a breathy tone, as if kissing your skin had robbed him of voice.

You sat up, as he knelt back, taking the chest harness off. He rarely removed his weapons when he fucked you in an open space. Whenever he visited you at your apartment, he would usually just leave his knife at hand, on your bedside table or the table he fucked you on.

You stripped the knit sweater, taking the tank top off, eyeing his skin with curious eyes as he took his black shirt off. Jeonghan was lean and strong, he bore bruises and scars all over his chest and arms. Knife, bite and claw marks.

He was beautiful.

Past the scars and the bruises, past his skin, you saw his soul. It was a fiery, chaotic smoking light. Like a candlelight that dances erratically inside him.

Seeing his soul was intrusive. But so alluring that you did not notice he was looking at you through his heavy set of eyelashes.

“What are you waiting for?” he cocked his head to one side, showing you a mocking smirk. “Do you think I’m going to undress you?”

“You did that last time,” you said between your teeth, but you lied back, lifting your hips to skitter off your pants, kicking your boots off with efficacy.

“Last time?” he frowned pensively, pausing before he placed his shirt aside on the ground. He shook his head lightly. “That was the second to last.”

“I get them mixed,” you shrugged, lying to him with ease.

Jeonghan knew whenever demons told a lie. He had been trained to sense whenever you performed a sinful act. But since everything he did with you was sinful, it was getting harder for him to tell.

He did not take his pants off, you did not ask why. You imagined that it was because he wanted to grasp what little dignity he had left in him. Maybe he did not want to strip completely because that gave him more power over you.

You were utterly bare under him. You did not care, you relished at the sight of him growing hard under his black pants either way.

“Turn over,” he said, gently palming the side of your thigh, urging you to move. “Hands and knees.”

You obeyed him, but not before you got to see him push his pants down, getting his cock out. He was fully hard for you, his veiny shaft standing up completely, his tip reddened and leaking precum at the slit.

You got on all fours, planting your hands and knees on the dirt, bracing yourself for him.

He used his knee to move yours on the ground, spreading your legs open a few more inches. “Mm, you missed me,” he noted with a low coo, running two fingertips on your folds. “So hungry, so wet.”

“Stop teasing me,” you bit back, though you were growing hot on the cheeks.

He found you out. But there was another issue. You were feeding off his lust and greed for you. But that did not explain why he also lowered the amount of demon kills he took. Was he doing it by pure choice?

Did Jeonghan feel guilty?

“Please, just give it to me,” you urged with a whimpery tone. You hated it.

“Alright, I’ll give it to you, you needy thing,” he replied with an empty laugh.

And then his fingers left your folds, you nearly whimpered at the loss. But then his fingers were quickly replaced by his cock, gently nudging its tip against your cunt, you clenched around nothing, but he felt your entrance throbbing with his cockhead.

“Fuck,” he sighed, grabbing you by the hips.

You closed your eyes, biting back a moan as his length started sinking in on you. The feeling was delicious, it made your blood surge and dance beneath your skin. It drew a moan out of Jeonghan, bottoming out on you.

He slid a hand from your hip, caressing your skin along the line of your back to meet your shoulder. He held you in place, a hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder before starting to plow on you, his hard thrusts knocking the wind out of you.

The feeling of his cock sliding on your walls was near-euphoric, the tip nudged at your g-spot quite quickly. Jeonghan knew your body better than you, his grip on you was harsh, holding you firmly as his hips jackhammered against your ass. The sound of skin slapping against each other quickly became an echo in the forest.  

“Jeonghan…” you moaned blissfully, letting the trees surrounding you that he was making you feel like this.

“Hell,” he murmured under his breath.

You muffled a moan in your mouth, fisting the leaves beneath you as if that could support you from crumbling out of sheer pleasure.

Fucking demons was rapturous. They revelled in perversion, they were the epitome of lust. It was playing with death. No one in their right mind would dare to do it, any mortal would either die or be killed trying. The pleasure was almost mind-shattering.

Jeonghan was past giving a fuck. “Where are your horns?” he muttered, thrusting his cock inside you hard and fast, he sounded out of breath.

“I’m concealing them,” you replied, equally as breathless, already toying at the edge of your release. “Thought you didn’t like them.”

“I don’t,” he grunted, letting go of your shoulder, his hand sliding to the middle of your back. “But I want to see them.”

You shuddered as his hand caressed you with a foreign gentleness. “No,” you replied.

“Come on, baby demon. Show ‘em to me,” he rasped, and you turned over your shoulder to see him.

Jeonghan was beautiful, he was tipping his head back, leaving his throat exposed to your gaze. You saw his throat bobbing when he swallowed hard, he was looking at your face, waiting for you to show him your horns.

“No,” you said, smirking devilishly at him. “I might if you ask nicely.”

“Ha. Nice try,” he sighed.

“What’s wrong, notable demon hunter lost his manners?” you gave him an empty laugh.

Jeonghan lifted his hand on your hip, landing it on your ass with a loud smack. “Stop that,” he warned darkly.

The spank was harsh, he used his raw strength to spank you every time. Your eyes stung with tears, but you gritted your teeth through it.

“I might be a demon, but I like indulging in a man with decorum,” you teased some more, enjoying the quiet flames of his soul growing enraged. You liked toying with him without him noticing it.

“Fuck,” he rasped.

Then a hand tangled in your hair, grabbing a fistful to yank you up. You squealed, but he did not stop fucking you hard and fast.

“You’re the one that needs to learn manners, not me,” he growled in your ear, his lips brushing on your earlobe. He released your hair, using his hands to palm your breasts, his fingers lingering on your nipples.

“Fuck, Jeonghan,” you moaned, arching your back for him, enjoying his cock filling your walls nicely, its tip teasing your g-spot repeatedly, unrelentingly.

“You’re close?” he asked, his tone low and raspy, tickling your senses.

You nodded eagerly, closing your eyes to savour the pleasure brimming inside you. You felt him everywhere. Not just his hands on your tits, or his hips meeting your ass, his cock stuffing you full. His touch made your blood surge, it made your chest tighten and heave.

You loved it.

“Come on me,” he mumbled lazily, removing a hand from your breast to meet your hip. His thrusts were growing sloppy, you knew he was close. “Cream all over my cock, baby.”

You hated him.

You hated that he used that word. He knew that it was a weak point for you. You had no choice, you crumbled back against him, your orgasm washing over you in fiery waves. You moaned loudly, nearly screaming but you did not care. The pleasure was so great, it had you moaning until you had no voice, no breath.

Jeonghan followed, dropping his forehead on your shoulder, dumping his load inside you with sloppy thrusts. He had stopped caring long ago about the consequences that might bring. And you had as well.

“You wicked little thing,” he panted, not quite stopping his thrusts yet. “What have you done to me?”

You gave him no reply, instead, you felt him growing hard inside you, pushing his cum back in. He kept fucking you slowly, as if with each thrust he was giving into you again.

What have you done to me, the words echo in your head, making your pulse quicken. No matter how many times he has said this to you, or many other things equally as hurtful. It never failed to break you.   

You used a hand to push his hips off, not caring that his cum slid down your thigh the minute you turned to face him, letting your body fall back onto the ground, bringing Jeonghan with you.

He gasped in surprise, but quickly recovered, positioning his arms around you, framing your head. “Round two?”

“Unless you have somewhere to go,” you smirked.

“I wish,” he replied, though you heard how numbly he sounded. “I wish I could stop wanting this,” he groaned, starting to thrust his hard cock inside you again.

“Careful,” you whispered, the smirk erasing from your face. “I know when you’re lying, hunter.”

His gaze darkened. “You’re not telling me to be careful,” he said. “You’re forgetting that I could kill you.”

“The fact that you haven’t tells me otherwise,” you said, though your tone waned as his thrusts started to become more powerful, you pushed your knees back, letting him drive his cock deeper inside you, drawing out a long moan from you.

A hand clutched your throat firmly, his fingers pressing on your windpipe strongly. You choked, grabbing his wrist to no end, because you let him strangle you.

“Why the fuck would I?” he growled, his face mere inches from yours. “You have the perfect little pussy, the perfect tits, perfect ass… I can’t afford to lose you.”

You blinked your watery eyes, your heart palpitating frantically, your chest constricting at the lack of air.

But you loved seeing that fire in his eyes, loved feeling the guilt pulsating in his veins. He smelled of fear, anguish, greed and lust. He wanted you, he hated you.

“You thought yourself to be special,” he gritted, pushing his cock relentlessly inside you, his fingers choking the life out of you. “You’re nothing to me. Nothing.”

Your lips curled in a smile at the way his body responded upon uttering that sentence. You closed your eyes, nearing the edge of another climax, which you let sweep through you, dancing in your veins.

You cherished the feeling of him inside you, fucking his first load back into you, only to then have it spilled out with each slam of his hips against yours.  

“There she is,” he whispered, his dark eyes glinting.

The pleasure was so brutal, you did not realize you had stopped concealing your horns. His fingers stopped pressing on your throat, but his hand lingered there. You looked at him while his gaze coasted at the sight of the black horns that curved back from the crown of your head.

“Don’t,” he muttered when they faded out of his view.

You exhaled, bringing your horns back.

“Wings too,” he whispered.

Even if you could smell the shame coursing through him, you also removed the concealment from your wings, showing how they had been tucked beneath your body the whole time.

Jeonghan slid a hand to your side, caressing your skin before brushing a knuckle on one of your black wings. You shuddered, hard, arching your back and pressing your tits against his chest.

“Jeonghan,” you mewled, closing your eyes under the thrill of having his touch on you.

“Does this make you come?” he asked a hint of playfulness in his tone making you open your eyes to his wide smile.

“Do it again,” you breathed.

At that, he obediently ran the back of two fingers along the soft membranous skin of your wings, the euphoric feeling bringing out a cry from you. “Yes,” you replied to his question.

Though he did not need verbal confirmation from you, your walls clamped around his cock, making him moan too. “Fuck,” he mumbled. “Such a wicked little thing,” he smiled. “Go ahead, demon. Come again.”

Your cheeks grew hot at the derogatory manner he called you. But you did not follow his command exactly.

Jeonghan switched his hand, propping his weight to the other to touch your neglected wing. He sent you a curious glance, right before using the back of his knuckles to brush your wing.

The touch was so light, so tender against your skin that it sent you to another orgasm. It was so brutal that it brought tears to your eyes, it was so euphoric that it made you scream, your mind going blank.

Jeonghan looked at you, completely mesmerized. “Gods,” he groaned, thrusting his hips sloppily on you, giving you his second load. You shuddered, feeling the ropes of hot cum filling you up.

He moved his hand from your wing, his touch gentle and light as he searched your eyes, cupping your cheek before he gave you a surprisingly sweet kiss. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, looking at you the same way he always did before he said goodbye.

Jeonghan hated this. Jeonghan loved this. Hated it. Loved it.

“I hate you,” he said, his voice reducing to a mere whisper.

It was sickening, it made your stomach churn, but it was not enough to make you wish you were something else. Deep down, you knew that Jeonghan would not want you had you been human.

You gave him a hollow laugh. “I hate you more,” you said, though your tone was devoid of all venom.

Then, the familiar pulsating feeling came. It only happened once in a while. It overwhelmed you with something you both welcomed and rejected. It was like a tight hand gripping your very soul. Jeonghan felt it too, you felt his body tensing up, still connected to yours.

Here it comes. You braced yourself.

Jeonghan retreated, slowly. He used his hand on your lower abdomen to push himself from you, grunting slightly as his cock slid out of your walls. With a heaviness that made his limbs clumsy, he gathered himself, standing up in front of you.

He tucked himself back in, picking up the rest of his things, with a perplexed look. It always happened like this.

He slowly turned his back on you, staggering against a tree, using a hand on it for support, he started panting in panic. You saw his back rise and fall just as you sat up on the ground, wrapping your wings around you protectively.

“Jeonghan, don’t go…” you said, sobs starting to coil in your throat.

But he did not look back.

The pulsating feeling gripped you harder this time, and that was enough to make you choke back a sob. Jeonghan grunted too, resuming to walk away disjointedly until he disappeared in the crowd of trees.

You wondered if this would be the last time you saw him. You wondered if the next time he saw you would be when he finally killed you.

There are plenty of monsters in this world, and plenty of mysteries too. You might be a mystery to Jeonghan, but he was not to you. Finally, you wondered if he suspected that the reason why he could not kill you was the same as why he could get enough of you.

You were what smouldered the fire within him. You were the peace to his chaos. The bond he could never break not even in death, his soulmate. 

› author's note: i've done it! i finally write a fic that's under 10k words!!! aaaaaaaa

i've got nothing to say. i just want jeonghan to split me open with his cock in the middle of a forest

anyways,

toodles (✿◠‿◠)

support me on ko-fi?

✧ READ PART TWO! ✧

© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[blacknidstang]

I am always always torn between "teen little sammy lusting so hard for his hot big brother while dean is so utterly oblivious. Just does not ever considers sam in sexual way even tho he loves him more than what gods can comprehend. His whole world is his baby brother but not in sexual creepy way " and "dean literally wants to devour his little baby brother when he is still too young. It makes him feel like a monster, he compensate that by being the good son, by being obedient, a good protective brother, a gentle lover while fucking others. Deep down he is burying his desire rip his tiny brother to pieces like a hungry wolf. he becomes a skilled ruthless hunter, shedding blood across the country, reminding himself that there are worse creatures than him when all he wants is to crawl over sleeping sam and claim him, fuck him and eat him and drink him"

[gublernatural]

In Another Life 𖥔 Dean Winchester

✶ SUMMARY: It's hard to regret getting captured by a Djinn when it makes your wishes come true in the real world, too.

✶ WARNINGS: angst, fluff, smut (piv), slow burn, mutual pining, she's long as fuck (6.8k words), heated make out, fingering, allusion to suicide (to end the djinn), reader is injured, supernatural-esque violence, alcohol, jess is mentioned, reader is bad at pool and likes baseball, mention of a period in passing, showering together MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

✶ NOTE: I'M BACK BABY!!! dividers from @firefly-graphics!!

˚꒰ა .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ ࣪˖ 𓂃 ࣪˖ 𖥔. ໒꒱˚

Everything looked familiar. The dingy yellow paint on the motel room wall was what you thought was the last thing you'd seen before you closed your eyes. The room still smelled like nicotine and there was still a squeaky noise coming from where the gasket on the window was damaged. Things seemed normal. There was nothing that you could tell was out of place from where you’d awoken.

Except, something felt different.

There was an unfamiliar warmth. It was coming from your left side, but it was also coming from inside your chest. Something inside you felt lighter; less like the weight of the world was no longer on top of you. You raised your head slightly, just to look over to see what was pressed against your side. You tried to move with a practiced ease, as if you were trying not to alert a monster creeping in the night.

Except, it wasn’t night and there was no monster. It was just Dean. Laying beside you, fast asleep.

“What the fuck are you doing in my bed?” You gasped, scrambling as far away from him as you could get in the queen-sized bed. Dean was easily awoken by your outburst. He moved gently, bringing his hands up to rub his face, before turning to you. “What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes filled with nothing but concern. Your brows furrowed, trying to figure out what you were looking at. It was definitely Dean. Definitely your Dean. But something about his was different. He was relaxed? Calm? Peaceful? You weren’t entirely sure what the correct word was.

When you didn’t answer him, Dean moved closer to you, trapping you between his body and the wall. One of his hands moved to your face, cradling your cheek. “What happened?” He asked, again. “Nothing,” You informed, turning into putty in his hands. Dean used this hand to pull you closer to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Guess we should hit the road, since you’re up,” Dean said. He sighed like an old man when he moved to push himself off the bed. “Sammy’s gone, wanna shower?” Definitely my Dean, you thought when you saw the shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “I’m good,” You shrugged. When his own face twisted up in confusion, you quickly came up with a lie, “Time of the month, and all that.” Dean nodded, heading towards the bathroom.

As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut, your hunter instincts took over. You moved with a desperate urgency, pulling out every dresser drawer, stifling through every item inside of them, checking under sheets and mattresses, checking the search history on the laptop on the table, flipping through each and every book.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Sam’s voice broke your focus. You quickly snapped around, immediately pausing your movements. “Looking for something?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows at you. You were sure you looked guilty, with your hands tucked behind your back and your incredibly straight posture. “N-no,” You stuttered, trying to relax. You slowly made your way back to the bed, relaxing into it as much as possible. Sam’s questioning eyes followed you the entire time.

“What are we doing here?” You asked Sam. You remembered why you were in this town. Sam had seen disappearing girls in the local paper, something suspicious about them. You were here to kick the monster’s ass. That much you knew for sure. Sam let out a chuckle, “We’ve been on a road trip for a few weeks now.” Sam informed, pointing to the map on the table, “You don’t remember?” His voice shifted into a calmer tone, full of concern.

“No, no, I do. I was just making sure,” You tried to play it off. Luckily, Sam did not have too much time to question you, as the bathroom door opened and Dean emerged.

“Next stop, the world’s largest basket in Frazeysburg, Ohio!” Dean cheered, coming to stand next to you, and resting his hand on the base of your neck. “Definitely not the world’s largest,” Sam corrected. Dean mumbled an “oh, whatever,” before moving to throw his things in his duffel bag. His duffel bag that was usually filled with guns, knives, salt. The essentials.

“We’re going to pick up Jess,” Sam clarified, circling back to your confusion, “her graduation is in a week, and then we’re moving closer to you and Dean.”

You knew this was an attempt to clear things up for you, but it just furthered your confusion. Jess was dead. Jess was dead before you met the Winchesters. What the fuck was going on?

You turned your head back to Dean, watching him start to add your things into his duffel bag. “Hey,” you chastised, pulling a pair of slightly racy underwear from his hand, “those are mine.” Dean turned to look at you, a smirk spread across his face, “What’s yours is mine, sweetheart.” He turned back to the bag, just for a second, before throwing you a quick wink, “Plus, it’s not like I haven’t seen them before.”

You weren’t sure if you were more shocked when Dean asked if you wanted to drive, or when Sam willingly slid into the back seat. Dean’s hand was resting on your knee, his thumb rubbing sweet circles into the denim of your jeans. There was a soft rock song playing on the radio, and Dean was lightly singing along to it. The air outside was fresh, the sun was shining, and there was a slight breeze flowing through baby’s open windows. Even Sam wasn’t complaining about how loud the music was.

Everything was truly perfect. Too perfect.

As much as you wanted to lean into Dean’s touch, to allow him to hold you each night like had last night, to let him press kiss sweet kisses against your forehead and throw dirty jokes at you, you knew that you couldn’t. You knew something was wrong. Life as a hunter never worked out like that for you. If something felt right, you knew that there was something wrong.

And you’d be damned if you weren’t going to figure out what it was.

Maybe you’d let yourself enjoy Dean’s attention while you did it. Maybe.

Baby let out a soft hum as you approached the basket. It was very large, you couldn’t deny that. Dean came around to the passenger side, sliding his hand into yours. There was what should’ve been a comfortable silence that had fallen over the three of you, but something in your stomach wasn’t letting you relax. Hunter’s instinct, as you used to tell the boys. You wished you could talk to them. The real them. Not whatever these imposters were.

“You alright?” Dean asked, moving his hand to your waist. “What are we, Dean?” You asked. He stopped his steps, letting Sam trail ahead. “You’re my girlfriend.” Girlfriend. Your eyes widened before your face, once again, twisted up in confusion. “You’re my girlfriend,” Dean repeated, matching your facial expression, “You’ve been my girlfriend for about four years now. Are you okay?” He questioned, again. His hand moved up to rest against your forehead, checking for a temperature.

You pushed his hand away, trying to think this through. Four years. That has to be significant. What were you doing four years ago?

Hunting. You’d been hunting your whole life, so of course you were hunting. You tried to think of any notable hunts that occurred four years ago. It was hard to put them chronologically. They all got blurred together after a while, and you could only really see the faces of the people you’d saved, the families you’d brought back together.

Then it clicked. Four years ago, you were hunting the largest vampire nest you’d ever seen. It was located on the border of Minneapolis and Saint Paul, taking victims from both cities. You knew you were in over your head when you went in, but you were never one to back down from a challenge.

Especially when you ended up having the best backup you’d ever gotten while on a case. Not only were they two very efficient hunters, but they were also particularly easy on the eyes. You should’ve probably hesitated before letting the shorter one with a pretty smile into your motel room to see what you’d pieced together, but something in your gut told you to trust him. So you did, and you still do.

“Dean,” You sighed out, “how did we meet?” His signature smile spread across his face as he stepped closer to you, swinging a careful arm around your neck. “Need a reminder of why you fell in love with me, sweetheart?” You nodded, encouraging him to get on with it. “At some bar, just between the Twin Cities. You had some girlie drink in your hand and were dressed up all pretty, but cussing like a sailor at a baseball game on TV. Drew me right in. It didn’t take very long for you to like me back. Sam was upset we were holding up his tour of the city with Jess, but he got over it once he realized I really liked ya” Dean reminisced.

Fuck, you thought. You had always wished you met Sam and Dean differently. You’d wished you met in a bar and Dean chatted you up. That Sam took you in like a little sister. But, that’s not how it went. You knew that. In your reality, life was shitty and Dean usually slept on the shitty motel couch, not next to you, even if he wished he could. So, you also knew you had to fix it. You had to get home.

You excused yourself from the boys and the very large basket to head back to the car. You rummaged through it, hoping to find something from your reality. A knife, a gun, something you could use to end this perfect nightmare. You found a small little switchblade in the trunk. It was not going to be easy, and it was going to hurt like a bitch, but you needed to get home. You needed to be with your real Dean so you could help him kill this Djinn.

Your wrists fucking burned. It was like your whole body was tense, but your wrists were on fire. “You got her?” You heard a deep voice call towards you. There was no response but you felt your body jostle. You were pressed against something warm. Not the kind of unsettling warmth you felt when you woke up in the dingy motel room. The kind of warmth that smelled slightly of whiskey and home. The kind of warmth that only came from Dean. Your Dean. Your real Dean.

“Dean?” You mumbled softly. You felt his grip on your body get tighter, holding you closer. “I got you, sweetheart. Just hold on for me.” You tried to nod, but weren’t sure if your head actually moved.

The next time you woke up, you were once again met with the dingy, yellow motel wallpaper. Only this time, you didn’t scramble to get away from the presence next to you. In fact, you shifted your body slightly closer to it.

You curled into a fetal position next to where Dean was sitting on the side of the bed. Your head shifted so you could look at him. His eyes were wide as he turned around with a breathy release of your name, “fuck,” he mumbled once he saw how frail you looked. He didn’t say anything else. He just reached out to rest his hand on your side. It didn’t take long for him to start rubbing it along the expanse of your torso, trying to push away any pain you were feeling. There weren’t many cuts or bruises that littered your skin, but he knew how weak Djinns can make you feel.

“Can I do anything for you?” He prompted, breaking the silence after a few minutes. You shook your head no, just wanting to go back to sleep. “Sammy went to get food,” he informed, “asked him to stop and get you your favorite.” You didn’t have to say anything for Dean to understand that you weren’t going to eat it. The gesture was nice, though.

The sun was casting through the broken blinds the next time you woke up. You were surprised that you had managed to sleep through most of the night. Your body really did need to rest, you guessed.

“How you feeling?” Sam asked once he realized you were awake. You moved to sit crisscross on the end of the bed, so that you would be facing where he was sitting at the motel table. “Better than yesterday, but my head still hurts.” He didn’t respond, just nodded and turned back to whatever he was reading on his laptop. It took you a while, but eventually, you mustered up the courage to stand up and head to the shower. Dean was still asleep on the other motel bed. His hands were stuffed under his pillow, protectively placed near some kind of weapon, and his breaths were even and relaxed. You smiled at him as you grabbed clothes and headed into the bathroom.

The hot water felt heavenly cascading down your body. You deflated like a balloon, each muscle relaxing from the top down. Your shoulders, then your back, then your thighs, then your calves. You were probably in the shower for a good 45 minutes to an hour, allowing your body to release any leftover adrenaline. It was the most relaxed you’d been in a long time.

It wasn’t until about the thirty-minute mark that you started reflecting on what you had been through. You still weren’t sure how Sam and Dean had found you, but you were grateful they did. Fortunately, being unconscious allowed your body to heal up quickly. Unfortunately, living the life you’d been dreaming of had fucked you up emotionally. You tried not to allow yourself to think about it. It would be easier to bury all of the undiscussed emotions , unasked questions, and unreciprocated feelings into a deep pit with all of the other fucked up stuff that was easier to put off than it was to walk out and face it. You didn’t want to think about holding Dean’s hand as you walked to unusual landmarks or him pressing his lips against your forehead after he thought you’d had a nightmare. It would never be your reality, so there was no sense in dwelling on what could’ve been.

There were a few knocks on the door, “You alright in there? There’s no way there’s still hot water coming out.” Dean’s voiced was muffled by the door. “Coming!” You called back to him, suddenly realizing how long it’d been. The water still felt fine, though.

You hurriedly stepped out, dried yourself off, and threw on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. You’d get dressed for the day once you were in the main room, as the steam in the bathroom makes the clothes stick to you.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asked as you emerged from the bathroom. You missed the way his eyes sparkled once he finally got a look you standing up and healthy. “Like I wish people would stop asking me that,” You complained. After a beat of silenced passed, you added, “And hungry.” Dean let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah, Sam ran to the diner down the road real fast.” You nodded, reaching to pull out your laptop. You had to stay busy, it kept your mind off of things you didn’t want to be thinking about.

“Slow down, road runner,” Dean encouraged, moving to sit next to you. You shrugged at him. He continued to chastise you, “You need to heal up, we can take a day or two off.” If you were anyone else, he wouldn’t be telling you this. He and Sam never slowed down. They hunted, they got injured, they went on another hunt, and they got injured again. “I’m not a child, Dean. I’m not even hurt, I can hunt.” Dean didn’t respond, instead, he pressed his hand against the back of your laptop, pushing it shut.

“I know what it’s like,” He practically cooed. You tried to ignore the way your heart jumped at his gentle voice. “Your wish had come true, and then it was ripped away from you. That’s not something you heal from overnight.” You didn’t realize you’d been avoiding eye contact with him until this moment. His face had a foreign softness too it, one you didn’t see him use on anyone else. “I’m fine, Dean.” You huffed. If that was true was still out for debate.

“Tell me about it.” He pushed. When you continued to stare at him, but didn’t answer, he questioned you further. “What was your wish? What was different?” This was when you broke eye contact. Your face began to feel warm, and you looked down into your lap. Dean didn’t push. He could be an asshole, but he was an asshole that cared about you. You two sat in silence for a while, as you considered how much to reveal to him. You knew he wouldn’t let it go. Maybe he’d leave it alone for a day or so, but this conversation was inevitable. “Things were just,” you hesitated for a second, “different.” Dean nodded, subtly encouraging you to continue. “We didn’t live this,” you gestured to the room around you, “kind of life. I mean we did, we stayed in motels with each other and all, but we didn’t have to deal with everything else. We weren’t hunters.” You explained.

“That’s your wish? To stop hunting?” Dean asked with a conviction that had you convinced that if you said yes, you’d never have to go on a hunt again, and he would make sure of it. However, you shook your head, “It’s not even about hunting, I don’t think. We were on some stupid roadtrip. To see Jess. She was graduating from college.” Dean hummed at your explanation. “So your wish was to be on a roadtrip with us? Or for Jess to still be alive?” Dean questioned again, almost in awe of how selfless he thought you were. But, you shook your head again. “I wish that we were able to meet differently.”

“Differently?” Dean repeated. “Yeah,” you shrugged your shoulders, “like, normal people, I guess. In a bar or at some sporting event. Something stupid, that regular people get to experience.” Dean was quiet, contemplating what you said. He would’ve never guessed that your wish was something so simple. Your wish was so mundane, so un-earth shattering, that it was hard for him to wrap his head around it. You knew his wish, wanting his mother to still be alive. That was worth wishing for. A different kind of life with him and his brother was not. If Dean could make your wish for you, it would probably be the exact opposite. He’d wish that you never met him and never had to deal with all of the world-saving bullshit being with the Winchesters came with. Hell, even if you were still hunting, you’d at least be safe from the archangels and the king of Hell and Lillith and all of the other crap he had to deal with. You could hunt normal things, like vampires and werewolves and wendigos and maybe the occasional witch or demon.

“And if we met like normal people, what would that mean?” Dean was trying to understand the fantasy you got to live in, even if it was only for a brief moment. “I don’t know. We were on some stupid road trip and seeing the World’s Largest Basket. Sam and Jess were moving in together to live close to us.” We held hands and you kissed me on the forehead and called me your girlfriend. Dean nodded, seeing how a simple life like that could be enjoyable. “Close to us?” He questioned, picking up on the fact you two at least lived close, if not together, in your fantasy. You nodded, shrugging your shoulders.

“Food’s here!” Sam called as the door to your motel room opened. You smiled, standing up to meet him at the table. Dean hesitated, not moving from his spot on the bed for a brief second. If he could live in his fantasy world, he thinks he’d like to live with you, too.

The next hunt found you and the boys in the middle of Alabama, searching for a vengeful spirit preying on men who broke their wives heart. The night you were able to gank them, Dean had suggested “celebratory spirits, in honor of the spirit we’d put to rest”. Who were you to argue with that?

So, you three found yourselves in a local dive bar. You were nestled into a corner booth, right by the pool tables, where Sam and Dean were playing two older locals. You were pretty sure Sam was hustling the poor old man, but Dean seemed to be playing for fun. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome Dean truly was when he allowed himself to relax for a moment. He had his two favorite people in the world with him and a cold beer in his hand. He was content.

“Wanna play?” Dean asked as he chalked his pool stick. “Me?” You asked, shocked that he would extend that offer. You’d never been good at pool, which Dean was definitely aware of. There was no shot he wanted you to play, especially if there was any money involved. “Yeah, I can finally teach you the skills so you can start your own hustle,” Dean explained, gesturing to Sam and confirming your suspicions. “If you want me to,” You stated, then downed the rest of your drink, before moving to grab the other pool stick. “You wanna break?” Dean asked as he set the game up.

Dean showed you different tricks and spent a lot of time showing you how to get the right angles and power on your hits. You hoped he didn’t notice the way your thighs pressed together when he pressed his chest against your back, lowered his head to be next to your ear, and wrapped his hands around yours on the pool stick. He was a very effective teacher.

By the time Dean had finally hit in the 8-ball in, Sam had wandered away. You spotted him talking to a pretty red-head by the bar. There was no surprise when he slid his hand around her waist, guiding her out of the bar. You received a text to both you and Dean that read “not coming back to the motel tonight” a few minutes after. You knew Dean had read it when he whispered, “my man!” and slid his phone back into his pocket. “You doing the same?” You asked Dean once you both settled into the booth, seeing the way he was looking around the bar, eyeing up the patrons. He shook his head, “Nah, thinking about calling it a night.” He brought his beer bottle to his lips and took the final swig of it. “It’s only 11 o’clock,” you informed him, surprised that he was choosing to go back to the motel. “I’m not cutting you off, princess,” he teased, “I’m just ready to chill.” He emphasized his statement by dragging out the world “chill” and sliding his hands through the air.

Dean knew if he went back to the motel, you would, too. You were never one to stay out and party, especially if he or Sam wasn’t around. It was both a safety kind of thing, and a not having as much fun without them kind of thing.

Dean held the door for you as you walked out of the bar. It had cooled off, into a nice, summer night. Dean surprised you by opening the door to the impala, and closing it for you after you’d settled into your seat. “And they say chivalry is dead,” you teased when he climbed in. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get used to it, sweetheart.”

The ride back was filled with nothing but comfortable silence and a Rolling Stones cassette playing through the radio. You and Dean settled into the room, each taking a bed, assuming Sam would not be coming back at all tonight. Dean usually took the couch during hunts, as Sam was too tall for them, and he would never subject you to the muscle pain that comes with sleeping on broken springs.

You were totally absorbed into the soap opera you’d chosen from the shitty motel channels when Dean finally spoke. “I got one question for you,” he started, shifting his body from being angled at the TV to facing you. His long, jean-clad legs were stretched out in front of where he was sitting against the headboard. You were laying on your side, head resting on your arm and angled down toward the TV. You shifted your gaze to him, “shoot.”

“In your Djinn dream last week, why was Sam moving closer to us?” You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but that certainly wasn’t it. Your silence was making Dean uneasy, so he rushed to fill it, “I mean we were far from them, yes?” You let out a hum of agreement. “So, why did both of us live so far away from them that they had to move?” You got the feeling that Dean was piecing this together as he said it out-loud. “We lived together?” He asked, giving you his full attention now. Your voice was quiet when you answered, “I guess.”

Dean moved from his position, opting to sit on the edge of the bed closest to you. “What else happened?” You locked eyes from him from where you were laying, noticing a shift in the way he talked. There was more edge to his voice. “What?” you asked, shifting your position as well, sitting on the edge of your bed, directly across from him. “I know that we met in a different situation and that we were on some road trip, but what else happened? Why did we live together?” If your face was warm when he asked about how you’d met, then your face was on fire now. You hoped he couldn't sense how flustered you were getting.

“Hey,” he leaned forward, reaching an arm across to rest on your thigh, “no need to get shy on me, now. We all have our things,” He assured, assuming it was something embarrassing you were worried about. It was definitely embarrassing, but not in the way that you look back at the situation in five years and laugh, but in the way that your life may be forever changed once you’ve said it out loud. Your life may be forever changed for the worst, if you have to listen to him say that that was a crazy Djinn dream and something like that would never happen between you two.

Dean’s eyes remained on you, with an expectant look on his face. You opened your mouth to speak, but quickly shut it, trying to find a way to explain what happened without him realizing that you were totally, deeply, grossly in love with him.

“Come ‘ere,” He mumbled, moving to sit next to you, instead of across from you. The energy in the room continued to get tenser, as he got closer, invading your personal space. For the second time that night, his face was next to yours and his lips were moving by your ear. “We were close in your fantasy?” He asked, voice low and husky. You nodded, afraid that your voice would give too much away. “Closer than we are right now?”

You weren’t sure if he was talking on an emotional level, or a proximal one. Sure, the answer to both questions was yes, but you didn’t want to tell him that. He was your boyfriend, and, at multiple points in your fantasy world, you two were touching. It was in rather innocent ways, but you were touching nonetheless. You let out a sigh, before nodding again. Due to him being so close, you couldn’t see the smirk that spread across Dean’s face at your confession.

“What? We were married? Lived together in some rancher in the middle of New Mexico?” He switched back to his teasing mode. “You were my boyfriend,” you corrected, without realizing what you were confessing to. Dean’s eyes widened briefly, “So, let me get this right,” he backed away from you, just a little bit. You were still disappointed to lose the warmth his body heat was providing. “In your fantasy world, a world where you could’ve wished for anything you wanted, I was your boyfriend?” Fuck your face being on fire, it was melting into the deepest pit of Hell, where there was nothing but torches and conflagrations. “Yes, Dean,” you huffed, completely moving yourself away from him and closer to your headboard, “Now stop being mean about it and go back to your stupid soap opera.”

Dean let out a gentle ‘tsk’, moving his body closer to yours, as if he was chasing the feeling you were giving him. “Sweetheart, I’m not being mean. I’m just making sure you want this as much as I do.” With that, Dean’s lips were on yours. He swallowed the gasp you let out before you relaxed into his touch. Your hands moved into the short length of his hair, holding him as close as physically possible. “Fuck,” Dean breathed as he pulled away from you. His hands move to rub along the top of your thighs. “You okay?”

You nodded, eagerly. He let out a low chuckle, before diving back into pressing his lip against yours. Dean’s body guided your own, getting you to lay down so that he could hover over you. He supported his weight with his right hand, allowing his left to slide down your side. His lips were making you dizzy as he kissed down the side of your neck. When he reached a particularly sensitive spot, you let out a gentle moan. Dean stopped for just a second to bask in the sound, before returning to the spot with a deep suck. His tongue slid over the skin to soothe the burn once he felt you were sufficiently marked to his liking.

Dean continued this pattern, searching your body for spots that made moans fall from your lips and your body writhe against his. He was painfully hard from enjoying the friction your thigh was creating him for him, but he was enjoying your reactions too much to stop. Dean was always one to enjoy the delicious things in life.

So, it was no surprise that he kissed down your body, helping you remove every article of clothing that got in his way, before he settled himself between your legs.

He started by rubbing his calloused hands along the inside of your thighs. He followed each slide of his each with a kiss, easing the burn from his rough hands on such a sensitive area. You were sure he could see the wet spot that formed on your panties, which were the last piece of clothing you were wearing. It was hard to ignore how he was still fully clothed when you were so bare. “Dean,” you whined with a harder tug of his hair. He let out a ‘hm’, as he left another mark on the inside of your left thigh. One only he would be able to see.

Your hands slid down from their place in his hair to pull on his collar, signaling to him that you wanted it off. “Want something, sweetheart?” He asked. If you weren’t so desperate for him, you would’ve kicked that stupid grin off of his face. You shifted your gaze down to where he was waiting for you to say something. The sight of him between your legs was heavenly, and if you wanted him earlier, you needed him now. You pulled on his shirt again, with a breathy, drawn out, “Dean.” He chuckled again, before pushing himself onto his knees to pull off his shirt. He did not give you the kindness off removing anything else.

He did finally, finally, touch your soaked panties. Dean’s fingers were gentle as he slid them through your clothed slit. “God, baby,” He almost sounded as whiny as you did, “I did this all to you?” Dean’s cocked twitched in his jeans when answered with a sickly sweet, “Yes, De.”

“Guess I’ll have to do something to clean it up for ya, huh?” You didn’t have the chance to answer before he moved his fingers to circle around your clit, drawing a deep moan out of you. Your legs were starting to feel like jello as you began to go dumb from your arousal. All your mind, body, and soul could focus on at the moment was Dean Winchester. Your Dean Winchester. Your real Dean Winchester.

Dean stayed there for a while, sitting between your legs, tracing painfully slow circles on your clit. He ignored all of your attempts to get him to do something more. It was as if he didn’t hear your moans and whines, or feel the way your hands were reaching for his wrist to get him to stop, or do more, you weren’t exactly sure. He was driving you crazy, giving you enough to keep your mind focused on him, but not enough to push you any closer to the mind shattering orgasm you were chasing. You knew he could give it to, why was he being so mean?

After what could’ve been either a few minutes or a few hours, your brain was too mushy to know the difference, Dean decided to show a little mercy on you. “You’re so pretty,” he complimented, adjusting his position so he could pull your underwear down your legs. He pressed a sweet kiss above your knee as he pulled the drenched fabric over them. “I’m really enjoying this,” he informed you, as if you couldn’t tell from the tent in his pants and the way he was dragging this out. He flicked his gaze to you, waiting for a response. “Me too, Dean,” you assured him.

You saw the shade of pink on his cheeks slightly darken. He looked so good, so pretty, like this. There were beads of sweat along his forehead, his pupils were blown, and his cheeks, his fucking cheeks, were the most beautiful shade of pink you’d ever seen. You wanted nothing more than to take a picture, capture this moment, and have it to look back on whenever you wanted.

“I’m gonna make you feel good now, yeah?” He said as his fingers started to move again, finally giving the pressure you’d been craving.

Wanton moans fell from your lips as he inserted two fingers into your dripping cunt. “Oh,” you gasped, pleasantly full from his fingers. His rhythm was perfect as he tried out a few different angles before he found the spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars. It only took a few strokes from him to pull your orgasm from you. Dean knew you were cumming before you moaned, “Cumming, Dean, I’m cumming,” from the way your muscles spasmed around his fingers. God, he couldn’t wait to feel you cum on his cock.

Dean worked you through your orgasm, not stopping his movements until you were breathing heavily and holding his wrist in place by pressing your thighs together. “Doing okay?” He checked in after you let him go. You didn’t have the capacity to form words, or even coherent thoughts yet, so you simply nodded.

Dean stayed in his spot between your legs, massaging the fat of your thighs and rubbing his hands along your shins. You truly had never felt more relaxed than you were currently feeling in this moment. Everything, for once, was perfect, and there was no need for a monster to kidnap you and place you in a fantasy world while he feeds on you to feel like this. All you needed was Dean. All you’ve ever needed was Dean. All you will ever need is Dean.

“Hey, Dean,” you mumbled into the comfortable silence. He didn’t reply, but raised his eyebrows at you. You shot him a sweet smile, not feeling the need to explain what you were thinking. He matched it, sending you a gorgeous grin.

You gave yourself just a few more moments to recover before beckoning him to come closer. He quickly obliged, pressing his lips to yours again. There was no rush this time. You both knew you had all of the time in the world to enjoy each other from here on out.

You slid your hands down Dean’s chest, surprised at how soft his skin was. Your hands tugged on the button of his jeans, undoing them for him. There were no words spoken between you two as you helped him out of the remainder of his clothes. He reassumed his spot hovering above you, pressed a kiss to the side of your head, and then gently slid himself into you. You let out matching moans as he bottomed out, filling you up perfectly. Dean waited to move, allowing himself to bask in your warmth for a little bit.

His first few thrusts were gentle. They matched his demeanor as he reached up above where your head laid on the pillow to hold your hand. Dean held eye contact as he began to pick up his pace. He knew he wouldn’t last long. Not when he’d been dreaming of this moment for so long.

“Feels good, Dean,” you babbled, exhausted and content. He responded with a low groan, burying his head into the crook of your neck. His right hand moved to your thigh, hiking it up around his waist as he began to pick up his pace.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he hit a spot deep in your cervix, “fuck, baby.” He repeated. If you were cock-dumb, he was definitely pussy-drunk. Dean was lost in the feeling of you. His grip on your hand tighten as he started to pound into you. The hand that wasn’t interlocked with his moved to his back, leaving scratches that would burn the next time he took a shower.

“So fucking good,” Dean mumbled in your ear. His hips started to jerk as pressure began to build up in his abdomen. There was a fire growing in his lower stomach that would erupt into a brain numbing orgasm. He didn’t think twice as he painted the inside of your walls white, filling you to the brim with his seed.

Dean didn’t stop, he was riding out his own high, just as he had done for you and yours.

“God, baby,” he sighed out once he was done, collapsing on top of you. You welcomed the weight, finding comfort in his body. “Why did we wait so long to do that?” Dean mumbled in your ear. You giggled in response, totally enamored with this new side of him.

You tried to ignore how empty you felt when Dean finally pulled himself out of you. There was a conversation that needed to be had now, but you weren’t sure how to start it. The tension in the room could be felt again, but it was different. It was uncomfortable as you both tried to navigate whatever this was now.

Dean stood from the bed, grabbing two towels off of where they were thrown over the chair, “C’mon, let’s shower and get’cha cleaned up.” You nodded, following in his footsteps.

Dean turned on the water and stepped into the shower as you peed. Once you were done, you joined him. Despite all of things you two had done, this was the most vulnerable you’d felt all night.

“We gotta talk about it, ya know,” Dean started as he turned away from you to get soap on a rag. He rubbed it between his hands to suds it up before bringing it to your shoulder. He washed the tension away from your neck, gently traced the rag over your breasts, massaged the soap into your thighs, and got you clean. He was so gentle, so relaxed.

“I know,” you sighed, scared for what would come out of it. “So you’d want me to? To, uh, be your boyfriend or whatever?” He asked as he stood to his full height after washing your calves. “I mean, yeah, if you’d want to be.” You shrugged, trying not to let him see how hard your heart was beating in your chest.

His eyes lingered on yours as a few beats of silence passed between you two.

“Hey,” he murmured as he called your name, “Would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

You let out a giggle at his chivalry, eagerly nodding. Dean’s smile matched yours as he pulled you into his chest. He held you tightly, squeezing you into him. You were pretty sure that this shower was nothing but a waste of water, as you two would find yourselves wrapped in each other between the sheets, again, before the night was over.