#and I don’t know how to act any differently | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

takusan-no-ai · 22 hours ago

Text

In Love with Love

PAIRING: Yanagi/Miyabi/Grace/Koleda x Male Reader (Romantic) (Separate)

SUMMARY: They have a crush on (Y/N), Phaethon’s younger brother.

Things were, awkward, at first. You weren’t aware of how your siblings became friends with Section 6, but you knew it had to be more than Random Play. Your curiosity led to you spending time with Yanagi; and being Phaethon’s younger brother, Yanagi acted like a mother to you; despite you being close in age. She’d share her favorite red bean buns with you. And sometimes while relaxing outside, Yanagi would sing a lullaby as you rested next to her.

But that didn’t deter your drive to discovering the truth. Which you eventually did. Just when things seemed like they couldn’t get worse, Soukaku let it slip one afternoon that everyone in Section 6 knew. It was shocking to Yanagi why that hurt you; she assumed you were a part of the proxy business. So, when she saw how hurt you were it was like the natural caring side of her resurfaced; she apologized and reassured you that nobody at Section 6 meant any harm. Especially herself. Why she insisted on that? She couldn’t explain.

You had a hard time being upset at Yanagi, her sincerity shining through. While you had issues with your family, you still cared for them. And similarly you still cared for Yanagi and Soukaku, both of which you had bonded with. So you both were amicable with each other. You even became a big brother figure to Soukaku, something that Yanagi really loved; the way you treated her made Yanagi see you in a more mature light.

Naturally that came with seeing…other parts of you differently. She became hyper aware of your presence. Yanagi could easily find you in a crowd, and she’d always have a dopey smile on her face as she watched you. Please don’t tease her for that time you handed her a red bean bun and she stood frozen, over analyzing your action, until she bit it while you still held it. Romance was never her strong suit.

It was finally afternoon, after some long and grueling decades at work. At least for Soukaku it felt that long. With Yanagi and (Y/N) right behind her, the group made their way to Waterfall Soup in Lumina Square.

“C’mon Nagi! (Y/N)! I’m starving!” Soukaku was practically dragging them forward, her stomach growling so loud it scared away the birds.

“Patience, Soukaku.” Yanagi corrected her.

“The noodles aren’t going anywhere.” (Y/N) chimed in.

Soukaku eased back on her whining, preferring to rub her stomach in what would normally be exaggerated pain for any other child. Yanagi giggled at her, walking slightly faster so the little oni wouldn’t have to be in hunger any longer.

But as she walked Yanagi tripped over a small stone that had blended in with the street pavement. (Y/N) quickly caught her, helping her readjust her glasses. “You okay Yanagi? That was a close one.”

But she couldn’t answer his question, too focused on the close proximity. His cologne. His beautiful eyes. The comfort of being enveloped in his arms—

“Hehehe.” Soukaku was giggling right next to Yanagi. The latter quickly fixed her heel, walking ahead to hide her encroaching blush. (Y/N) stared off at her quickly departing figure, making a small glance at Soukaku, who was still fighting off a large grin.

Now sitting at Waterfall Soup, Soukaku immediately started digging in. Yanagi and (Y/N), who were sitting next to each other, watched her with a smile.

“I think I get it.” (Y/N) whispered. Yanagi turned to look at him, a questioning look on her face. He continued, “This is probably how Wise and Belle felt. Watching over me like a child.” Yanagi nodded.

“Even though I know Soukaku is capable, I still want to protect her.” She said. “But I won’t shelter her from everything. Instead, I’ll teach her so she can be ready.”

(Y/N) gazed at Yanagi, a soft smile encompassing his face. She looked at him for a moment before hastily turning away. Again she was made aware of how close they were. Shoulders almost touching. Why was he looking at her like that? She wondered.

“You would be an amazing wife, Yanagi. And an even better mother.” He mumbled. His smile had turned into a cheeky grin as he watched her face turn fifty shades of red.

“Fl-flirting is not appropriate around children, (Y/N).” She tried to state her claim firmly, but her stutter made it lackluster.

“Who said I was flirting? Unless that’s what you want me to do?” He teased.

Yanagi resigned to eating her noodles, not trusting her voice. But she didn’t decline his offer.

Soukaku cleared her throat. Both of them froze up, having forgotten for a moment where they were.

“So…,” she started.

“…are you guys getting married now? Like the princess and prince in my storybook?”

Miyabi was initially indifferent when she met Phaethon’s younger brother, but that quickly changed when she realized you were both flocks of the same feather. The silly back and forth’s, training (goofing off), like kindred spirits, it was as if you’d known each other for years. You made Miyabi feel young again, before being a void hunter came with such responsibility. While you were curious as to how Belle and Wise knew a void hunter, like smoke over the screen, you opted to ignore the obvious.

You had later found out about your siblings side business, and you thought it was a secret they kept between themselves. So when Miyabi mentioned in passing, asking why you don’t go into hollows or train to fight in them, it was safe to say you were confused. That’s when she reveals that, yes, everybody at Section 6 knew. And you felt so blindsided. But you knew she didn’t mean harm and Miyabi had more things to worry about than keeping a secret like that from you.

So instead of seething about it all you decided to be proactive; you asked Miyabi to train you. To which she agrees. That way you could join Belle and Wise in their proxy work. Prove to them that you’re capable. Of course Miyabi warns you of what being a “hero” meant, that she would train you to survive and overcome that hardship, but that it was an unavoidable risk. She was so serious about it, and truth be told she was hesitant to even train you; all because she didn’t want to lose you.

Miyabi had an inkling of what she felt for you, but she chalked it up to her being possessive of someone she cares for. That feeling motivated her to train you to your limits. And while seeing the progress you made in such a short time was impressive, it was a little hard for her to remain focused. There were two brain cells in her mind fighting: one was worried about you going into a hollow, the other was busy ogling your body like she’d never seen a shirtless man before.

Slash!

Miyabi’s blade clashed against (Y/N)’s. This was their new training regime. It took a while, but (Y/N) could now wield a sword decently enough. “Your core strength has improved. However your arms are still too tense. You’ll cramp up before you can overpower your opponent.” She stated.

(Y/N) could only grunt in response. He was still parrying every one of her attacks. It was a constant barrage. He could tell she was going easy on him though. Something (Y/N) was currently very grateful for.

Having said that, Miyabi wasn’t doing it intentionally. She didn’t want to go easy on him. She wanted (Y/N) to truly undergo the kind of training he would need to survive the hollows. But she was too lost in thought, only making the occasional comment about his stance.

It had gotten to a point where they both started taking it too seriously. (Y/N) was getting eager, deciding to try and move on the offense. But anytime he did Miyabi would strike for a finishing blow, something he would just barely dodge. Not without a small graze either.

She was getting more distracted.

The thought of him getting killed by an ethereal.

Or the thought of him turning into one.

She couldn’t bear to see such a future come to pass. So she wanted him to be fierce, to go through a brutalizing, almost tortuous phase. All so that he would never have to endure such a fate. And so that if anything were to happen to her…

“…so that you could finish me.” She mumbled.

“Miyabi!” His shouting finally brought her back to reality. She snapped out of it, now realizing her mistake.

(Y/N) was using all of his strength to hold back her attack. Just inches away from his head.

Miyabi dropped her sword and fell down to her knees. (Y/N) took a moment to catch his breath before crawling over to her, holding her in his arms. She was trembling.

“What’s wrong, Miyabi?” He asked.

She sucked in a deep breath. Just talking felt like a stab in the gut. But like a broken dam, those emotions came bursting out with no end in sight.

“I don’t want to risk losing someone else again. All I have left is my father. What of my colleagues? The ones I’ve come to call my friends? What if…I become like my mother? Who will slay me?”

(Y/N) looked at her in bewilderment, eyebrows scrunched and breath hitched. What could he say? Should he tell her it’ll be okay? Or that she won’t have to worry about anything?

Instead, he comforted her the only way he knew how.

“I promise you, Miyabi, that I will live.” (Y/N) held her tighter. She stopped trembling, looking at him in astonishment.

“How can you promise that?”

“Because…,” he held her face, “…I promise to live for my family and friends no matter our disputes. And even more so than that, I promise to live for my love for you, Miyabi.”

It didn’t stop her from believing the danger she could become. And it couldn’t possibly prevent the possibility of death. But it did comfort her. And it did make her smile.

“I promise to love you too.”

Grace, being as antisocial as always, didn’t pay much attention to you at first. That was until you showed an interest in her “children”. Who knew Random Play was hiding such a sweetheart! She got to work immediately showing you how she makes them, even offering to teach you a thing or two. And when you made one together it led to you both roleplaying as the “child’s” mom and dad. Grace wasn’t prepared for the shock when she day dreamed what the real thing would be like while upgrading Belobog’s machinery.

Grace never intentionally kept the proxy work a secret, the topic simply never came up. Besides, updating you on her babies always felt more important. But she did feel bad for you. She saw a bit of sweat pea in you, being unable to trust your family. That doubt is hard to diminish. Logically she knows with enough time you’ll get through it and make amends with everyone, but for some reason she still couldn’t seem to focus afterwards. Especially when she thought of the hurt look you gave her in passing.

Surprisingly Grace is the one who changes, hunting you down to spend time together. She couldn’t explain why she wanted to spend time with some guy when her robots existed, but she couldn’t get you off her mind. So she just went with it. Plus your constant frowning wasn’t good at all; she really wanted you to smile like before. And so with her mission to make you happy, your own attraction for her grows more than before.

She steps out of her comfort zone, opting to make more time for a human instead of being nose deep in her work. It’d been a long time since Grace actually did something other than rant about her children, so the sudden change to being hyper aware of your smile, laugh, likes, dislikes, the times your hands would bump into each other…it was more than a little overwhelming. For once Grace actually started to regret being “single as hell” most of her life prior to meeting you.

Grace waited eagerly on her stool, fiddling with one of her machine cores. Who was she waiting for? Why (Y/N) of course! They agreed to meetup at Belobog Heavy Industries since he wanted to learn more about making advanced machines.

Both Grace and (Y/N) knew it was because he wanted a distraction. Something to challenge himself until he felt like he could talk to his siblings about Phaethon…

But that was enough about sad thoughts! Ben’s knock on her door had Grace racing to open it. “Uh, Miss Grace, please try to keep the expenses low. I know you’re excited to teach (Y/N), but—”

“Aw, don’t worry Ben! It won’t cost too much.” Grace said with a gleam in her eyes. Ben escorted (Y/N) inside, leaving with hefty sigh.

From then on it was completely quiet. Grace knew what she was doing when it came to tech, but explaining it was another matter. So she opted to show (Y/N) instead first. Saying the occasional “Good” or “Move it a little to the left”, she pretty much left him to his own devices.

“Grace?” He asked.

“Yeah?” She replied.

“I get that you’re going out of your way and all…,” he turned around to look at her, “…but do you think you could help me a little? I’m not a licensed mechanic like you so this is all new to me.”

Grace, who had been hovering above him and watching like a hawk, gawked. “Oh! I guess I have been a little…distant. I learnt most of this from my own experiences so I was kind of hoping it’d be the same for you…,” she trailed off.

Grace wasn’t lying when she said this. However it wasn’t the full truth. Yeah, she had been distant during it because she wanted to see (Y/N) in his element. But she also didn’t want to stand too close to him. Her heart beat, blushing face, and distracted thoughts were clear indicators of…something Grace would rather ignore.

(Y/N) grasped her hand suddenly and pointed her finger towards one of the modules. “Do I put this on or not for the next step?” Grace could feel her hand sweating and she was so grateful to be wearing gloves. But she was again getting distracted. Something about the way he held her hand, it got her thinking.

A ring in a box…

Church bells chiming…

Doves flying…

And him holding her hand softly, a smile on his face as they walked down the aisle…

“Hello??? Grace!” He called out to her again, snapping Grace out of her thoughts. She fanned her face with her other hand, humming and pretending to be lost in thought.

“Uuuh—yes! Remove that part!” She said confidently.

“But I haven’t even added it in yet.” (Y/N) reminded her. She deadpanned. “You okay, Grace? You seem really distracted today. Which is weird considering your kink for machines—”

“It is NOT a kink! It is a pure love and admiration!” She quickly defended herself. (Y/N) laughed at her quick retort, almost hunching over. Grace huffed in annoyance, eyebrows twitching and cheeks puffed.

“And to think I wanted to make a child with you.” She mumbled angrily.

(Y/N) stopped laughing.

Grace stopped pouting.

(Y/N) started blushing. “You-you meant like a robot…right?” He had to confirm that.

“O-of course! What else could I have meant?!” She shouted while covering her face, now red as her sweet pea’s hair.

“We st-still could. And we technically already have. What would today change?” He added.

Grace looked at him completely flabbergasted. And they say she’s bad a romance! He didn’t even understand what she said at all!

“The difference is that was a love confession!” She said while crossing her arms. Her eyes were squinted, clearly indicating (Y/N)’s next words were to be said carefully.

He covered his face, hiding his blush. “I mean I love you too but that wasn’t obvious at all.”

“What about it wasn’t—! Wait what?”

From the get-go Koleda liked you. Finally! Someone who didn’t tease her for her size or mistake her for a child! Being treated like an adult with you was very calming. In fact it made Koleda not so paranoid about appearing “childish”. She could have a calm, nonsensical conversation with you one moment, and gorge on desserts the next. Especially since most of the guys at work had a hard time believing she was the boss at Belobog. But you? You believed her instantly and showed her with respect.

Koleda was made aware that you didn’t know of the proxy work your siblings did. However she felt it wasn’t her place to intervene in your family affairs. Which is why she sympathized with you when you inevitably found out. She went through similar trust issues with her father, so Koleda understood what it’s like to question the trust of your loved ones.

But you were offended she didn’t even try to tell you. If she knew how you felt then why not tell you the truth? You could see why Koleda didn’t want to be involved but it still felt unfair. Koleda didn’t feel the same though. When you told her how upset the secrecy made you, she told you to be more mature. Because what she saw before her in her mind was a little boy who risked abandoning his family in a fit of pain. She saw herself in you and wanted you to take time to think about your feelings. But nonetheless, a strife was brewing between you two.

It was always thorny from then on whenever you became the topic of discussion at Belobog. Everyone would get quiet, looking away anxiously, quickly changing the subject. But Grace wasn’t having any of it. With the help of Anton and Ben, they successfully encouraged Koleda to have a proper discussion with you. It was tricky, but when Grace started teasing her for getting in a disagreement with her “crush”, Koleda quickly bolted out of there to get it done and over with.

“Ugh!” She groaned. Koleda was currently waiting outside of Random Play for (Y/N). She kept circling around the building, kicking rocks and second guessing herself; she reaches out for the door and immediately backpedals away for what felt like hours on end.

Wise was currently working at the counter, whilst Belle was out making a stock run, and as for (Y/N) he was…somewhere. Tensions were still there with his siblings, but they still treated each other well enough, so he didn’t leave home. That much Koleda knew for a fact.

Eventually Wise took pity on her and approached the nervous Koleda outside. “Hey, looking for my little bro?” He asked. Koleda was going to deny it, not wanting to acknowledge how obvious she must’ve looked, but the smarter option would be to swallow her pride.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to him. Know where he is?” Wise nodded in response.

He pointed towards Godfinger. “He’s been there for a little while now. Think he’s playing games to blow off some steam.” After being pointed in the right direction by Wise, Koleda thanked him and made her way over to the arcade.

It was in there that she saw him playing Bizarre Brigade. She took and deep breath and walked over to him. He was so absorbed in the game that he didn’t even notice her.

“Excuse me.” Koleda cleared her throat. Normally she would wait for someone to finish gaming but this was important.

“Still standing there?” He said.

Okay so apparently he did see her!

“Yeah! C’mon, let’s go somewhere more private. I need to talk to you, (Y/N).” She said.

He finished the game, having reached the final level on endless mode. (Y/N) turned to look at her clearly, his face cringing. “About what? How I’m immature?” His snarky remark had Koleda’s knuckles twitch.

She took a deep breath. “I get that what I said hurt your feelings; thats why I’m here to talk to you.”

He sighed. “Fine. Lead the way, munchkin.” He said with a smirk. Koleda could feel her blood boiling.

“Sure! Just remember that I’m the perfect height to break your knee caps!”

She led him to the bench outside of Box Galaxy, where they both sat at the furthest ends. (Y/N) had his arms crossed, looking indifferently at his surroundings. Koleda on the other hand was fiddling with her fingers, not really having planned this far ahead.

“Aren’t ya gonna say something?” He chided.

“I didn’t think this far ahead!” She replied. (Y/N)’s eyebrow was raised, a more than confused look on his face.

“Then why come here?”

“Because! It’s…important that I say this.” She took a deep breath, scooting over so that she was now looking directly at him. “I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) shivered a little.

“It wasn’t fair to call you immature for sharing how you felt; that was actually more mature than just being quietly angry at me for a reason I wouldn’t have known.”

He could feel his breath hitch.

“I still don’t regret not getting involved—”

“And I understand why you didn’t want to be.” He cut in.

Koleda breathed easily now, seeing as to how (Y/N) was less stiff than before. “Yeah. But the main reason I told you that was because I didn’t want you to make any hasty decisions or come to any conclusions without thinking it through.” Her voice trailed off, leaving a void of silence in the air.

“Koleda…,”

“The world lied to me about my father and I didn’t find out until it was too late. At least you still get to make amends. So…don’t make the same mistake that I did; or else you may regret it.” She said while fighting back tears.

(Y/N) stood up and walked off to the convenience store, leaving Koleda confused. He quickly returned with a small chocolate bar in his hand.

“Here.” He handed it to her, wiped the tears from her eye, and smiled. “I’m sorry too, Koleda. Let’s put it all behind us and start over again.” He comforted her.

Koleda smiled in return, already taking a bite out of her chocolate bar.

“This time how about we start dating?” He asked.

…

She almost choked to death.

- Fin

#zenless zone zero x reader #male reader #imagine #yanagi tsukishiro x reader #yanagi tsukishiro #miyabi hoshimi x reader #miyabi hoshimi #grace howard x reader #grace howard #koleda belobog x reader #koleda belobog

51 notes · View notes

bettystonewell · 1 day ago

Text

Oh my!

You know, I have a much better gif for this that I saw when I wasn’t searching for dirty gifs, and I have no idea how to find it now 😭 - it was a very squishy red piece of fruit with a finger and it reminded me of this smut hehe

Yeah - very good choice on the split for sure! The tone is entirely different to the other two -UNTIL YOU WRECKED ME AT THE END! I struggle with ending stuff too, but I’m not only balking at this impressive word count, I’m doing so at the feel you gave me!

It’s not supposed to happen!

Ahem

“Now, lemme get that pussy ready... stretch ‘er nice and wide for me.”

😳 - okay - yes sir!

Dean pull his boxer down and over his morning wood.

Yaasss! I DID MOT MIISS THIS usage lol

Your legs buckle for a moment and your walls contract, your soft heat moulded around his girth like the perfect puzzle piece.

The whole fic was very hot, but then you kept adding little bits of poetic goodness like the one above

Your soft flesh’s caught between them as he rakes his fingers back to collect every bit of the plump flesh he can find.

Wow - that image! I have not seen a description like this before, the whole act of the flesh getting caught I mean - and I’m in love 😻

primal lust that has your hips suddenly buck like a bitch in heat.

We need Jolly to write omegaverse! Knots and all!

Yes, Dean was rugged. He often acts annoyed and grumpy. He plays the perfect role of the hardened soldier he’s been raised to be. He’s overprotective to a fault and he comes off like a dominant wolf who bares his teeth at anyone who just as much as looks at you the wrong way.

But that’s only one side of his. And he’s very selective about who gets to see his other side. About who he lets in and who he keeps out.

You, he let in. Dean Winchester chose you to be closest to him, next to his brother.

This is what I was talking about before - such sweet, guttural moments woven within.

The couch shudders against the floor, its legs scraping along the wood with every inch he’s driving himself up your soft walls.

And then this happens

THOSE NEIGHBOURS ARE PISSED

“Can’t or won’t?” You both know the answer to that. Of course he could talk with you about it. You work for Sam for Pete’s sake, there’s hardly any Intel you didn’t have access to.

Hehe - I see what you did there!

You want him to come back home safely. Every damn day.

😭😭😭😭😭

Of course we want you to come home every damn day Dean… I refuse to mention the little girl. Nope. Nope. Didn’t see it. Don’t know what you’re talking about.

But THIS! Was a perfect trilogy and I can’t wait to see more of these two together! ❤️❤️❤️

"Love me the way you need me" - Part 3.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ COUPLE BadWolf!Dean x SweetVixen!Reader 🍓🥃 -> MASTERLIST [Special Forces AU, SquadLeader!Dean]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ WARNINGS SMUT 18+ MDNI, established relationship, age gap, dom!Dean, kinda sub!reader, needy!Dean and needy!reader, kinda claiming kink?, Dean being desperate for reassurance, fingering, overstimulation, p in v (wrap it before u tap it!), rough sex (emotional-relief sex), orgasm denial, hair pulling (light), choking (light - neck, not throat), manhandling, anal fingering, consent with safe word, praising, pet names, fluff, sweet aftercare, angst, mention of torture (flashback). POV's all over the place. No use of Y/N. Uff, rarely ever had this many tags lmao. lmk if I forgot something!

⋆ ˚｡⋆ SUMMARY Dean returned home pretty rattled from the last hunt. But it's nothing some good morning sex couldn’t fix, right?

⋆ ˚｡⋆ WORDS 8k

⋆ ˚｡⋆ J / NOTE The Bad Wolf's unleashed and I got a bit carried away, so say thank you Jolly for almost 6k of pure sinful smut. Or give me a concerened side-eye along a "Jolly what the fuk". Make your pick 😌

In any case, make sure you read the warning tags before you continue! And buckle up sweeties, this gonna be an intense ride <3

Previous: Part 1. <- Part 2. <-

“I might just fuck you like I own you.”

Those simple words strung together do so much more to you than they should.

How the deep timbre of his voice carries his intentions. Dangerous, yet smooth. Like a promise, a threat and a declaration all at the same. It wraps around your mind and squeezes it in all the right ways, short-circuiting your brain and tearing down all the barriers that would keep a woman in church.

Welp. Feminism just went right out the window.

But it’s alright.

After all, Dean never owned something in his life, not even his own body.

Your body on the other hand? How could you deny him that.

“Fuck-” A jolt of arousal courses through your form, hot and cold at the same time as it rushes down your back in the form of a shiver until it hits your tingling core.

The corner of his lips pull into a satisfied grin at your reaction. Large hands slide over your curves and settle on your hips. His eyes never leaving you.

“Want me to take out my frustration on you?” he chuckles darkly and earns himself another moan of yours as your forehead drops to his shoulder and your hands slide down his neck until they find purchase at his chest. Fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt.

He squeezes the flesh at your hips.

“You like the sound of that, huh?” he teases you, then tips your head to the side with his nose before he nips at your earlobe.

Your cheeks burn up, fingers tightening.

There’s a moment of silence, filled only by Dean holding your hips in place as he rolls his own up against you and lets you feel his hard cock twitch between your thighs. His thick head rubbing along your covered folds. Covered but drenched nonetheless.

That much for 'only boys have trouble to cover up their horniness'.

Dean feels it even through two layers of fabrics.

The taste of your sweet arousal wafting up into his flaring nostrils, wrapping around his tongue. He licks his lips. Hungry. Eyes darkened with pupils fully blown as they watch you from below his eyelashes.

“I think you do…”

He remarks. Patient. Lips curled up into a wolfish grin.

A shiver runs through your body as you realize how he's got you trapped.

Not just by his bruising grip on your hips. But mentally.

Right now every cell in your body is drawn to him, like he's the only one able to tame the fire that's threatening to burn you alive. The only man able to make your feral little hormone-bitch want to submit to him. Every thought, every damn urge is tainted by that raw, primal desire to be claimed by him. Marked. Used and forced into submission in the most pleasurable way.

Fuck - I want that man to ruin me.

“Y-yeah…” You admit sheepishly and dare to lift your head enough just to watch Dean’s grin widen.

“Oh yeah?"

Your exhale’s stuttering when it blows into his smug expression. His thumbs draw a tender circle across your curves, barely noticeable under the tremors that run through your body.

"Lift your arms, sweetheart,"- his hands begin to push up your pyjama's top -"Need to see you… make sure my babygirl's ready for when I take her apart.” You swallow back a whimper.

Lifting your arms with all your energy suddenly gone elsewhere, he pulls off your top with quick hands and discards it somewhere behind the couch.

“Damn, look at you,” he breaths. His eyes rake up and down your exposed top. Almost in awe. Slow, plump lips parted while he’s taking his time to make sure every dip and bump and the smallest blemishes on your skin are still the same like when he saw you last.

His warm, large hands move to the swell of your breasts, pushing them up before he dips his head down to capture your nipple between his teeth. Closing his lips to suck until he’s drawing a gasping whine from you.

He lets go again, lips lingering at the curve of your cupped tits.

“Just perfect,” he praises.

“De…” you plead his name with a shaky breath, back arched to feel every rough part of his calloused fingers moulded around your soft breasts, “Please, I wanna feel you…”

One of your hands finds its way to his hidden happy trail, reaching for his bulging boxer’s hem – but his hand comes down to grab your wrist.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he reprimands you with a crooked smile as he lets go of you and instead grips for your hips again, lifting you off of his lap.

“Turn around,” he demands and despite the whine in protest, you do as told and swing your legs over his in order to lower yourself back down on his lap, facing away from him.

“Mmh-hm, that’s it. Atta girl.”

His hands move back to your hips to pull you flush against his straining crotch, letting you feel how his covered length comes close to bury itself in the crease of ass-cheeks.

Rough finger pads rake up the inside of your thighs, bunching up the pants that are still separating him from your aching core. Inching up towards where you need him most - but only ever brushing past it. Teasing. Maybe even testing you.

It has you squirming, accompanied by soft pleading sounds tumbling off your lips as the need for his touch clouds your mind and starts to become unbearable. To the point where you feel the urge to just spin around, take over the lead and –

“Hey,” Dean snaps you out of your dazed efforts to get some relief and he tuts, "Ah-ah, don’t even think about it. Not this time, sweetheart."

Then his voice drops. Chin settled down on your shoulder, beard scratching the skin like a warning as he continues, breath hot next to your face.

“You hold still and just take whatever I give you.”

You groan with a shudder. His voice taking that familiar, damn commanding undertone that always has your heart flutter and drive your hormones into a frenzy.

The air gets caught in your throat, mumbling a quiet “y-yeah,” while your body instinctively complies and you try your damndest to not wiggle anymore from need.

His teeth graze the junction of your neck as he hums, pleased.

“Now, lemme get that pussy ready... stretch ‘er nice and wide for me.”

One of his arms suddenly slings around your chest, gripping onto the crook of your neck on the opposite side, before he pulls you back. A gasp escapes you when he suddenly pins you to his chest, the back of your head now resting on his hard shoulder. He holds you in a tight lock with his arms enveloping you from behind while his free hand trails over your hipbone, where it dips into your pyjama pants.

A hitch in your breath marks the moment when you feel his fingertips ghost past your clit and bury their way down towards your heat. Two thick fingers part your folds, the slick coating them as they push past your entrance and up into your soft walls without a warning.

A guttural moan erupts from your chest, hips jerking at the feeling of his long thick index and middle finger sinking deep inside you. The roll of his hand smooth and controlled.

Dean’s muscles flex in response. His left arm’s grip around your chest’s tightening enough for you to writhe in his embrace without giving in an inch.

“So wet ‘n tight for me…” he mutters hoarsely.

Slowly he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you. Smooth, as your arousal allows him to slip them along your soft walls.

“Taking‘em just like that…”- He curls his fingers, coaxing a whine out of you - “Somebody’s hungry down there, huh?”

Slouching sounds fill the living room as he increases his speed. Your breath growing ragged.

Soft moans start to roll off your tongue. Body’s twitching and hips bucking under his ministrations. Fingers bury into his exposed thighs, nails biting his skin and drawing a sharp hiss of his as they leave red marks in their wake.

“Or maybe you just need more,” he says in a smug tone.

There’s no escaping him when he suddenly jams a third finger into your tight cunt, pronouncing the action with an extra rough thumb-flick over your swollen clit. Your head falls further back onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering close, lips parted to make way for desperate and breathless whines as a shudder whacks your body. The feeling of his fingers filling you up, it’s blissfully and yet on the brink of too much.

“F-fuck– Dean– p-please–”

Your walls clench in protest around the additional digit. Trembling thighs clamp together in reflex, trying to push his hand away.

But Dean doesn’t relent.

“Shhh… it's okay... you can take it... just hold on a lil’longer for me, baby, we're getting there…” - he coos softly, while his strong arm digs down between your thighs and pries them open again – "that’s it, keep ‘em nice and open for me…"

And instead of giving you a moment to adjust to the overwhelming stretching of your tight channel, he starts to push his fingers all the way inside, making sure to rake his fingertips over your spongy spot as he drags them back down. Then pushes them back inside, scissoring them once he’s knuckles deep again.

“Oh God-” you almost scream, the sound a pathetic breathless one. Out of your view, his lips pull into a satisfied grin.

Dean revels in the way you respond to him. How he can drive you to the edge and make you shatter, while you’re trapped in his arms, so he can catch you and piece you back together right after you’ve fallen apart.

“Mmm- That’s it baby,” he praises, hot breath blowing next to your ear where his chin’s resting, and from where his half-lidded eyes are trained on you.

While he pumps his fingers, he drags the heel of his hand across your bundle of nerves, enough for you to shudder and jerk your hips involuntarily, chasing the friction and trying to escape it the same time.

“D-De-” you start to plead but choke on it as another sound gets torn form the back of your throat.

You jolt and whine at the overwhelming stimulation on both your most sensitive spots. Dean quickly goes to sooth you when he slides his other hand down and over your collarbone where he captures one of your tits in his hands, massaging it with your nipple pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

“I know it’s a lot but you can take it, you’re doing so well…”

He nibbles at your jawline, the sensation sharp and burning from the prickly stubbles that rub across your soft skin.

“Ya’re such a good girl for me. So proud of ya.”

A shiver of pleasure courses through your body. The knot in your stomach tightening more with every stroke of his fingertips down your walls.

“I- I’m close-” you whimper, your breath coming in short quick bursts now. Body shaking like currents of electricity run through it.

He twists his wrist to make you whine at the sudden new angle as he increases the pace, his three fingers pumping inside you while now his thumb flicks over your clit.

Every muscle tenses under his onslaught, squirming in his strong arms - all in vain. His strength easily outmatches you, keeping you at his mercy like a bunny trapped in the jaws of a wolf.

“You’re doing so well… and making so pretty noises... letting me stretch you so deep for me...”

The hand squeezing your tits trails up to your throat, his fingers wrapping around the underside of your jaw, his thumb gliding across your jawline to rest on your cheek. His grip’s gentle, but controlled, enough to guide your head further back for him and forcing your whimpers into a strangled moan at the arch of your neck.

“Cum for me,” he orders gruffly, his nose and lips pressed against your cheekbone, “I won’t stop ‘till you’ve fallen apart. C’mon, let go for me, little vixen.”

The sound of his voice along his merciless ministrations has you fall over the edge with a shaky groan. Your body goes stiff right before the shockwaves crash down on you, driven to a maximum by Dean’s relentless thrusts despite your walls clamping down on his fingers, helping you ride out your high.

Once your body stops twitching, it melts into his, your back supported by his chest while you slide back down his lap.

He presses a kiss to your temple, praising you once again. “You did so well for me.” Then guides his drenched fingers past your head and to his lips where he licks and sucks them clean. Tasting you with a soft groan as he swallows. “So fuckin’ good. Missed your taste on my lips, baby – just nothin’ like it.”

You hum. Your eyes fluttered close. Slowly catching your breath as your heart slows down to a steady beat again - until Dean suddenly scoops you up bridal style, your half-naked body limp in his tight hold.

“Can’t wait to be inside you, sweetheart.” He mutters, his voice a notch lower and rougher than before.

An exhausted smile spreads across your sleepy face – but it quickly breaks as a surprised gasp slips your lips. Dean had moved to kneel on the couch and taken you with him where he tossed you onto your stomach in one swift move.

“On your hands and knees.” he orders.

A shiver runs down your back and right to your still overstimulated and burning core.

Without waiting for your response, his fingers hook under the hem of your pyjama pants and he yanks them down your spread out legs in one motion. Pulled over your ankles and sent flying, the pants land somewhere in the fleck of warm morning light framing the fuzzy rug of the living room.

Shakily you lift yourself to your hands and knees, head tilted back just in time to watch Dean pull his boxer down and over his morning wood.

His cock springs free, thick and hard in all its glory. Precum leaks from his pink tip while he strokes himself a few times, his darkened eyes locking onto yours as he catches you biting your lower lip with a look of lust.

“Missed my bad boy?”

“Yeah,” you breath weakly, eyes fixed on how he touches himself and begins to line up behind your rear. He rubs his head up and down your dripping folds, coating himself with your slick.

“Damn, look at you… you’re soaking me… such a needy little thing.” A shudder shakes your weak limbs and you sway for a moment, but Dean keeps a tight hold on you, steadying you.

“All for you,” you hum.

“Just for me, huh? Lucky bastard I am… Gonna make you feel so good…” Dean mutters while his hands squeeze your soft globes. You groan, press your ass further into his touch. He props up an arm on the headrest and leans down until he’s looming over you and his head is next to yours.

“Now about that offer of yours…” he growls next to your ear, each word rumbling in a deep tone that has your heart stutter with a moan, “You gonna be my sweet little girl and just take it... Let me use you while I fuck you deep ‘n hard just the way I need it, got it?” You nod in response, voice somewhere lost between dizziness and arousal.

“That’s my good girl.” he praises you and plants a wet kiss behind your ear.

His lips linger there for a moment longer, his voice dropped to a soft murmur like he’s just sharing a secret with you. “You let me know when it’s too much.”

“Yeah,” You assure him, hips wiggling under him as you continue in a sultry purr, “Want you, De…” He groans at the sound of your voice.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you.”

He moves his knee between your thighs to push them further apart. When you feel the tip of his thick length press against your entrance, your hips involuntarily jerk away. Still feeling overstimulated and sensitive.

His hand comes to rest on your lower back. Palm heavy, fingers splayed out to get control over your hips movements as he guides your hips back in place.

“Shhh-shhh,” he coos, pressure increasing just enough to make you hold still, “I got you. Just relax…“

With one swift move of his hips, he pushes his cock down your walls, burying himself without giving you much time to adjust. The tight fit pulls a shaky groan from the back of your throat, fingers curling into the plush of the couches cushions. He feels hard. Pulsing and twitching with need. And yes, he's bigger than average, and even though you are used to his size by now, the borderline painful stretching around his length is still overwhelming every time.

Dean stills for a moment, easing in the last inches of his thick girth. Once he bottoms out, he allows himself to let out a guttural groan of his own.

“God- you’re so tight. Feelin’ so good around me…”

He begins to draw his cock back along your walls before he pushes back inside. The tension has your thighs twitch and tuck your chin to your collarbone as you instinctively arch your back for him.

“Mmh-hmm, that’s it…” The grip on your hip tightens while one of his hands starts to trail the path of your spine up towards your head.

Then his hand stills. Fingers suddenly feather-light as they hover over your neck. Out of your sight, his eyes close briefly.

He has to remind himself that his hands are capable of more than brutal violence. That his fingers can do more than hold a blade or pull a damn trigger, more than torture and cause pain… but that they can elicit pleasure. Can make you feel good. Like no one else can.

A shaky exhale leaves his nose, almost imperceptible as he tries to calm his inner voices.

But enough for you to pick up on his hesitation.

“Go on,” you reassure him in a low whisper and you could swear you heard him curse inwardly for letting you notice.

He doesn’t say a word, his actions speaking for themselves.

His fingers wrap around the nape of your neck. Slow and steady. While his eyes are wild like a wolf’s and his voice's rumbling like a hungry growl, his rough hands’ touch is always gentle with you. Deliberate. Powerful. Perhaps enough to leave its marks for the coming day. But never more than what he knew you liked or he could answer for.

His grip’s firm enough to push your face into the couch. Nowhere close to obstruct your airflow, just enough to let you feel his strength and the control he has over your body.

The other hand slides up your spine until his fingers splay out between your shoulder blades. He leans forward, the pressure of his weight guiding you downward and pressing your chest flush into the leather.

The way he strips you of any control, allowing you to completely let go without thinking – it has you mewl, the leather muffling the sinful sound.

“You like it when I hold you down, babygirl?” His hot breath fans against the nape of your neck. His heavy hands force the air out of your lungs, strangling your answer into a shuddering whimper.

The cold metal of his dogtags press into your back. Clinging around his neck with the chain sticking to your damp skin.

A sudden stronger thrust has the necklace rattle, the tags smack back into his chest and the air knocked out of you. Your legs buckle for a moment and your walls contract, your soft heat moulded around his girth like the perfect puzzle piece. He groans, fingers briefly digging into the skin of your neck.

“That’s it – ” he rasps out, “Feeling so damn good all tight n’ clenched around my cock, like you’re just made for me, aren’t you?”

Another thrust that has your legs buckle.

“Letting me use you like my own little toy.” Dean starts to mutter between ragged breaths, voice strained and rough.

You shudder and whimper from his words as you feel yourself trapped under him, keeping you pinned down. His muscles flexing to keep you at his mercy. And shoulder blades jump to adjust his weight above you.

Fingertips rough from a lifetime of hunting find purchase in your perfect skin while the heels of his palms press into your hipbones.

You hiss.

Your soft flesh’s caught between them as he rakes his fingers back to collect every bit of the plump flesh he can find. Dean’s grip twitches into a bruising sensation, the sharp sting mixing with your pleasure.

Then he pulls you back to meet his next thrust. Harder.

A sharp gasp ripples through your breath, close to a whine.

„C’mon now, let’s see how much you can take.”

The words are coated in mockery, licking at the back of your neck.

It makes you shudder.

From arousal as much as that sweet trepidation of what he’s going to do, as you can practically feel the smug smile mere inches behind you. The silent promise hanging in the air; he won’t stop until he has wrecked you. Turned you into a quivering, whimpering mess underneath him. Claimed every inch of you.

Dean leans back again, his other hand keeping a bruising grip on your hip.

The pressure on your neck suddenly eases as his fingers begin to thread through your locks, taking a fistful. He tugs your head up by the hair, making you arch your back and your hips cant, deepening the tight angle for him.

“Imma make sure you feel every inch of me. Make you cum so damn hard you’ll forget your own name.”

You whine, lips parted as he begins to knock sounds out of you which would rival a porno’s. He sets a brutal pace, each snap of his hips meeting yours with desperate and primal need.

The pleasure builds quickly, driving you closer to the edge with every time he slams back inside.

Soon your arms and legs begin to shake and you find yourself squirming under his bruising grip. Clawing at the leather, breath ragged and laced with desperate mewls as you feel your next orgasm build up in record time.

Writhing, your limbs begin fighting his grip as the knot coils unbearingly.

“Nuh-uh, you ain’t going nowhere, sweetheart,” he warns gruffly.

The hand tangled up in your hair slides to the nape of your neck, where the pressure increases again, just enough to push your face back into the couch and hold you in place.

“Stay.” he orders.

You hit the cushion with a sound of protest, but it quickly turns into a cry as he makes sure to hit your sensitive spot now. He’s feeling you getting close to the edge, his pace never faltering.

“De- please-” you plead, not even knowing for what at this point. All you know is the knot in your stomach’s threatening to burst any moment, the strangled cushion evidence from your desperate grip.

“It’s okay, let go baby,” he husks out, his voice strained from the effort to keep up his pace, determined to make you shatter beneath him once more, “I got ya."

When your body’s contorting, it takes all of his will to not cum along you as your walls begin to contract around his cock, the next round of shockwaves rippling through your body as you fall apart beneath him.

Your body twitches and convulses against his relentless grip, his deliberate strokes along your g-spot pulling sounds of ecstasy from the back of your throat.

Dean talks you through it, muttering words of praise somewhere above you.

Once you’ve come down from your climax, muscles going limp, covered with a sheen layer of sweat and hair stuck to your damp skin, you try to wiggle out of his grip – but Dean doesn’t ease up.

“Where do ya think you're going?” he asks and you still. His eyes narrowed, lips curled into a smug smirk.

“'M not done with you, sweetheart. Not in a long shot. You gonna be a good girl for me and take whatever I give you, ‘till I’m satisfied. Got that?”

A shiver runs down your spine. One that’s accompanied by sparks as it hits your core, eliciting a ball of unbridled, primal lust that has your hips suddenly buck like a bitch in heat. It was kinda pathetic. But you couldn’t care less. The fact that Dean knows just how much of a turn on this entire power play is, makes him all the more dangerous. And gives you all the more room to let him do just what you want.

Dean’s hips meanwhile stilled. Cock still buried deep inside you, pelvis pressed flush against your ass-cheeks.

He waits for your answer, for any trace of your safeword. His strong hands hold you in place, not wavering, but his fingertips betray him as they begin to subtly rub across your quivering muscles at your neck.

“Oh God…” you finally pant the answer, breath shaky, fingernails denting the leather surfaces, “Y-yeah- yeah I’ll be good, promise…” And you would probably do anything to be good for him right now. Anything to have him go on.

As much as you liked the thought of suspiring him by flipping him over, to take control and make the bad wolf whine between your thighs as you did so often – this feels too good to grab for the reigns. Hell, he can have you all saddled, straddled, riding crop and tied to the pole if that means he’ll hold onto control and fucking use it against you.

“Mmm-hm, Attagirl” he hums satisfied, the tone low and rumbling as the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin takes over the room again.

You find yourself bite the pillow, not willing to entertain your neighbours with the downright sinful sounds he’s fucking out of you now.

“That’s it… Take it.” he grunts.

Dean suddenly leans forward, dogtags dropped to your back once again as he shifts his weight onto your hips, pushing them down and flush into the leather before his tongue swipes a trail along the line of your neck. Tasting your sweat, salty and thick with the smell of sex. A shuddering breath leaves you as he forces you into the new position.

His heavy breaths and gravel grunts fill your ear, his nose buried in your hair now.

“You feel so good, baby… taking me so well… doing so good for me… ‘m so proud of you…” He mutters and you whimper more in response before he straightens his back again to rock his hips in a better, deeper angle.

Damp clumps of his hair glisten against the warm morning light that has flooded the living room. Droplets cling to them. Until some stray beads of sweat form at the tips of his hair, before they drop to the back of your neck with every thrust. Cool as they hit your skin and slide down along your quivering form.

“Fuck - I missed you.” Dean rasps the words out between ragged breaths.

Another snap of his hips and he drops forward to meet your back with his chest. His forearms slam down on the couch next to your shoulders each as he catches his weight, the deck wobbling beneath you while his hands are seeking out yours.

The dogtags’ metal jingles as it finds purchase between your shoulder blades. His body’s weight is pressing into you, hot and heavy as you feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He nuzzles the back of your head, his large hands covering yours, intertwining his fingers to give you a gentle squeeze. Grounding not only you but also himself. And revelling in the intimacy of the moment.

“...so goddamn much,” he continues in a raw tone, the admission half-way muffled by your hair that’s caught between his lips and nose.

Thankfully he slowed his pace to a lazy drag of his hips, allowing you to catch your breath just enough to murmur back to him.

“Me too – missed you so much… missed this, missed feeling you.” A hoarse moan gets bitten back by him, mouth dipping down to your neck, where the next sound gets caught between your flesh that’s pinched between his teeth.

You hiss from the sharp pain mixing with pleasure, and he quickly swipes his tongue across the bite mark to soothe the irritated spot at the well of your neck.

“God… you’re so perfect.” he sighs, the words half-way swallowed by the love-bites he’s littering your neck with, “Couldn’t wait to come home… Come back to you… Thought I’d go fuckin’ crazy with you on my mind all the time.”

His arms shift closer, like he’s seeking your touch with every inch of his body. Boxing you in from both sides. His warm hands still cover yours, holding onto them as his head moves next to yours again, his beard scraping the sensitive skin with every hot breath that wafts down at you. Then his mouth presses against the shell of your ear.

“I’m all yours. You know that, right? Nobody gets to feel me like you do,” he murmurs, voice desperate and raw, the way only you were allowed to hear it, “And you’re all mine… ain’t that right?”- He nibs at your earlobe like a playful wolf - “Is my sweet little vixen only mine?”

The sound of him makes you melt, has you rub your body against his like a cat, arch your back into his broad form that’s caging you in beneath him as his muscles cover you from all sides in a protective way. His thighs straddling yours, his length buried inside you to the hilt, with his heavy body draped over yours.

It feels perfect. Like it's exactly where you belong.

But that’s only one side of his. And he’s very selective about who gets to see his other side. About who he lets in and who he keeps out.

You, he let in. Dean Winchester chose you to be closest to him, next to his brother.

And Dean craves you. Desperately. He’s hungry for you, for your touch, your praise, your love. And the moment your lips had caught his, you knew you’d spend the rest of your life giving him just that.

“Dean…” You say softly, the following words meant to be an intimate admission as much as a sultry turn on – and those two intentions mixed into a oddly satisfying, husky tone of yours that sends a shiver down his spine, “I’m only yours. All of me. And right now I’m yours to do with as you please.”

Damn, that came out sluttier than you had intended.

But his reaction was bloody worth it.

“Fuck…” Dean groans at your words, the sound coming from the depths of his chest as it vibrates against your back. His pace’s faltering and his head’s dropping to your shoulder.

You hum satisfied at his reaction.

It takes him a moment to catch his breath. But then suddenly shifts above you with seemingly newfound determination.

Without giving you a chance to react, Dean pulls you up by your hips and onto your hands and knees again. Then draws a gasp from your lungs when he angles your hips and makes your back arch.

"Need to claim every damn inch of you. Won't stop before you're a mess. Promise, sweetheart.” His voice dips into a deep timbre, the words as much a promise as a threat.

Sometimes you wonder where the hell he gets his stamina from. Sure, he was a seasoned hunter and a well trained squad leader - but don't men have like some regeneration timer going on?

Apparently Dean's an exception, because every thrust that follows is as powerful as his first.

The new, deep angle knocks the air out of you, has your fingers cling to the edge of the pillows and your legs tremble as he begins to rail you into the couch with a force that sends ripples through your muscles and pulls screams from your chest.

Once again you feel the pleasure building, hot and burning, your exhausted body overwhelmed from the immense pleasure he's hammering into you.

“Oh fuck- Dean-”

His name leaves your mouth in form of a guttural moan that gets knocked out of you, thanks to him pushing back in and hitting that spongy spot over and over to makes you see stars.

It's loud. It's messy. Sweat and slick and spit cover your bodies. The cushions smell like sex, the couch smells like sex - hell the entire living room seems to be pumped with thick, hot air, the pure lust of yours mingling and clinging to it.

You could swear you even hear Dean bite back a whimper in reaction to the outright pornographic sounds that he’s drawing from you.

It doesn't take long until you can feel the coil in your stomach tighten again with every punch, with every slap of his balls against your slick folds.

But your clit is pulsing and aching for attention as well.

Without thinking, you angle your shoulders and snake an arm below your body – but your wrist gets caught and swiftly pinned to the small of your back, the movement smooth and precise, like he’s disarming an enemy.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart,” he chides, the deep, firm sound like fangs raking down your neck in a warning, “I’m in control. You keep your hands right here.”

He marks his last word with a squeeze around your wrist before he lets go to pull your other hand up, placing it next to it where he locks them with his fingers curled around them like a vice.

Your chest and face drop back into the cushions when he pulls your arms behind your back, a mewl of protest leaving your mouth.

“Are you gonna behave now?”

You still and grumble something into the pillow.

He squeezs his hand around your delicate wrists, followed by a pointed thrust that has you groan into the pillow.

You hesitate. Then answer with your lower lip pulled back and tugged under your teeth as you mumble a begrudging. “Yeh… Sorry…”

“What was that?”

The grip on your hip dissipates before a quick swat across your butt cheek has you yelp in surprise.

“Hm?”

“O-okay,” you whine, although the sound’s oddly close to a giggle as you find yourself almost breaking character, “I’m sorry! I’ll be fucking good, promise – but please don’t stop.”

“Damn.” He says, patting your burning ass. You can hear him laughing, but he’s trying not to. “Now look at this, so the vixen can listen.”

He leans down to place a tender kiss to the nape or your neck. “That's what I like to hear. Now be good for me...”

His hand leaves your wrists, trusting you that you'll keep them there, while he trails down between your legs where he captures your swollen nub between his calloused fingertips and flicks the rough pads over it. That motion earns him a groan from yours, hips bucking involuntarily.

Meanwhile his other hand moves to slide down your ass, his finger sliding over your back entrance where he spreads a dribble of his spit.

A shudder goes up your spine, your body tensing in anticipation as you feel him circle the tight ring. Then pushes just the tip of his thumb inside, fingers splayed out above your ass to control his pressure.

“Ffuuck,” you groan and your legs buckle for a moment, knees scraping on the couch surface in search for some grip as you press yourself further into the soft plush of the pillows.

Dean chuckles at your reaction.

“Just gotta rail you into the couch and wreck your sweet pussy. That all I have to do to make your stubborn ass listen to me every once in a while? Shoulda told me that earlier.”

You want to laugh but choke on it as his gently rocking hips pick up the pace again, hitting your sensitive spot with deadly precision while his fingers flick over your clit, all of it sending shockwaves through your entire body, like every nerve is tingling at the same time and the knot in your stomach's about to explode.

The couch shudders against the floor, its legs scraping along the wood with every inch he’s driving himself up your soft walls. The leather creaks under the relentless rhythm of skin meeting skin. Sounds of your wrecked body, strangled whimpers and slick squelching, fills the otherwise silent morning air along with primal grunts and groans of Dean above you.

“You feeling good?” He husks out. His one hand working on your bundle of nerves, now splayed out across your stomach to help you taking him by pulling you back against every snap of his hips.

You nod, at this point completely lost in pleasure-land. Mind dazed from the sleep that’s clung to you until not too long ago and the absolute bliss of feeling him claim you, feeling him inside you – his body all around and filling you up to the brim.

Your body begins to squirm involuntarily underneath him as he pounds into you. Fingers clawing at the leather, toes curling from the overwhelming force he drives you into the surface of the couch. The additional pressure of his finger inching its way inside your tight hole is just enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“Use your words, angel… am I making you feel good?” He grounds out, “Tell me.”

“Y-yes,” you sob, “so good – you’re doing so so g-good.” Dean’s eyes flutter close at the praising words and he has to bite back a low moan.

He doesn’t have to ask you whether you’re close for the third time, he knows your body well enough. Catches every twitch and every hitch in your breath. How your sounds suddenly stutter. He can hear how your whines become more desperate, can feel how your skin quivers under his touch and your body begins to fight him.

“Hold it.” he grunts as if on cue and earns himself a whine of protest as you find yourself teetering on the edge, “Not yet,” he adds and before you get to react, he suddenly pulls out from both of your holes and flips you over.

Your head’s now comfortably resting against the armrest, your back supported by the cushions, while Dean’s hips slide back between your thighs.

“Need to see you,” he mutters the silent admission while he shoves your legs apart and lines up again, “Wanna see you fall apart underneath me.”

He grabs your hands and pins them above your head. Then pushes back inside in one smooth motion, both his hands gripping your hips to pull you flush against him as he buttoms out, like he wants to make sure that every last inch of him has stretched you to the maximum around his cock.

His thumb goes to flick over your aching bud again, his fingers splayed across your stomach where he can feel a small bulge as a result of him filling you up.

A guttural sound ripples through your body. Your thighs twitch, legs resting on his hipbones as you wrap them around him to pull him in deeper.

His darkened green eyes travel up to meet yours, his voice a raw whisper, “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Not being able to hold back any longer, your hands wiggle free from his grip and dart up to grab him by his necklace, pulling him down until your lips capture his in a passionate and yet affectionate kiss.

Dean not only groans but whimpers against your mouth. His free hand searches yours, fingers slipping between your knuckles to lock them tightly together.

He starts to rock his hips again. This time slow but deep, making sure to push you over the edge this time, each move deliberate and sensual.

He pulls out of the kiss, another groan slipping him as your hand comes up to tangle into his hair and your teeth pull at his lower lip, trapping him. But he doesn’t protest, not planning to go anywhere anyway. His forehead drops to rest against yours, both damp from a thin sheen of sweat.

His gaze locks onto yours, holding it while he drives his cock up your walls and feels his own climax building. Feeling your walls shimmering around him as its reaching its tipping point.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs huskily, the words only inches from yours as they leave his lips, squeezing your hand as he gently guides it next to your head. “Let go now… fall apart for me one last time.”

And you do, your body writhing in his embrace before you shatter for a third time. The waves of ecstasy crashing down on you as your nails dig into his skin, toes curling and back arching into him.

“Fuck- yes,” he rasps out, driving his throbbing cock inside you for some more as he’s chasing his own orgasm, before his hips stutter and he follows you over the edge, spilling his warm cum inside you.

Dean collapses on top of you, his forehead dropped to your shoulder as his damp hair sticks to your skin. After a second of catching his breath, he rolls off of you, afraid he’ll crush you beneath him.

His arm quickly wraps around your shoulder to pull you flush against his side, making sure you don’t tumble off the edge of the couch as he's taking in most of the space now.

He angles is head to press a kiss to your hair before he shifts to rest his chin on your crown and you hum contently.

After a moment of both of you regaining your breaths, heart beats slowing down to a normal pace, Dean suddenly breaks the silence.

“I didn’t hurt ya, did I?” He asks, his focus somewhere past the ceiling before they trail down to meet yours.

You shake your head, “It was perfect, babe. You felt amazing.” You reply with a reassuring smile. His eyebrows twitch together, just for a split second.

“You’d tell me if I did, right?”

“Of course I would,” you turn to scratch his beard which has his eyes flutter close. You continue with a soft smile, “We haven’t got 'Cherry Pie' as a safeword for nothing… Not that I’d ever need it.”

He nods once, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, right, right.”

Your fingers trail up and down his jawline. Slow and soothing. Your head’s resting on his upper arm while your other hand moves to draw circles on his lower arm that’s draped across your chest, heavy and relaxed. The exhaustion’s slowly taking over him now as his head grows heavier against yours and you feel his breaths slow down.

Dean melts into your calming touch. The way you’re drawing invisible patterns, how your fingernails ghost across his skin, slowly trailing up and down his arm.

He twitches slightly when the motions become more frantic. More demanding. A hiss escapes him. The gentle skimming of nails suddenly turned into a sharp sensation as they begin to dig into his skin.

Bite it. Eat it. Then break it.

Carving right through his flesh, as the cool edge cuts all the way down to his bone.

His face contorts into a pained grimace.

Small hands are clawing at his arm. While he carves screams out of it. The blade’s size bigger than the little limbs he trails the metal’s tip along. The steady motion filling the room with blood-curdling sounds, even for a hunter.

His jaw clenches and his breath quickens.

Memories flash across his inner eye. And voices of his own past self mix with the constant cries of a girl ringing in his ears.

“Out of all the hostages that son of a bitch has to ride a kid.”

"Damnit."

“And of course, out of all of those black-eyed sons of bitches only that one has the intel we need.”

“Dean, we’re running out of time. You can’t save the girl but we can save the rest of the hostages,” Sam keeps talking in his ear.

…

“Yeah- yeah you’re right.”

Dean’s body twitches.

Then his heartbeat stutters as he feels his fingers curl around the handle of the blade. His eyes slowly trail down to meet the girls wide eyes.

He did the right thing, didn’t he?

No, that’s bullshit.

It was a goddamn kid after all. No more than 6 or 7, he guessed. Somewhere in there was a scared little girl and it had to watch a man torture her because that demon just wouldn’t spit the numbers he needed to hear.

The girls small hand suddenly reaches out and Dean finds himself frozen up as she pierces right through his ribcage.

She begins to wrap her tiny fingers around his heart, tightening. His lungs seem to collapse as his entire chest is caving in around her grip.

He gasps for air, but all he can do is choke on the black smoke that’s blocking his airways.

“It was all for nothing.” the girl says flatly, “You screwed up, Winchester.”

“I - I didn’t mean to-”

She suddenly twists her grip on his heart – he groans from pain and drops to his knees so that he’s on eye-level with her now. “You think you still need this?” She squeezes his pumping organ and he doubles over, whimpering a strangled apology.

“I didn't think so.”

Then yanks it out.

Dean gasps for air, hand clapsed over his heart and his head jerks to the side as he jolts awake from his brief moment of having dozed off.

You startle at his sudden movement.

And even though he quickly goes to cover his face with his hand, as he rubs the spot between his eyebrows like he’s getting a headache, the flash of panic in his eyes didn’t escape you.

“Dean..? You alright?” You pause and try to coax his hand down to meet his eyes, “You had a nightmare..?”

“Nah, 'm fine.”

You frown at his obvious lie.

“You want to talk about what happened on your last hunt now..?”

He sighs your name, his expression growing stern, “You know I can’t tell you more about it.”

“Can’t or won’t?” You both know the answer to that. Of course he could talk with you about it. You work for Sam for Pete’s sake, there’s hardly any Intel you didn’t have access to.

“Look, I-” he cuts himself short, runs a hand down his mouth, his eyes closing for a moment before he manages to soften his tone, “Let’s not ruin the moment. Okay?”

You could point out now that talking about it might help. That sex for grounding him and helping him cope was all good and fine, but that wouldn’t change the fact that he still wouldn’t let you take part in his burdens and that whatever he went through, is still stuck in his head.

But Dean wasn’t one to respond well to prodding and you didn’t want him to clam up again or risk another argument.

“Yeah, okay…” you decide to not push him any further, “Will you at least let me treat that damn cut?” You lift an eyebrow as you gingerly brush his blemished cheek with your fingertip.

He rolls his eyes at your question and smacks his lips.

“Who made you nurse of the squad, missy?” He jabs sarcastically. You scoff-chuckle, muttering something along the lines of “Stubborn idiot” under your breath.

Dean’s annoyance dissipates when he feels your hand pull back from his arm and he quickly closes his fingers around your wrist, head tilted to look down into your eyes. “Come on, sweetheart… I’m home, ain’t I? Will you just let me enjoy my time with my girl?”

“Maybe,” you feign a pout and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but then your lips melt into a grin, “If you clean the crime scene between my legs.”

Dean rolls his eyes with an amused huff, pushing himself up and climbing over you, “Right, cleaning service coming right up.”

“I wanna live between your legs.” He groans softly, the sound close to a choked back whine.

Dean’s on his chest, settled between your thighs as he’d cleaned you with a warm cloth before and is now enjoying the view of your pretty pussy.

His half-lidded eyes trail up to meet yours, watching him from across your breasts.

“Afraid I don’t come for free.” You giggle and rake your hand through his still damp hair while you quip, “You gotta pay me rent for that.”

“Damn,” he huff-chuckles, his prickly stubbles scratching your inner thigh as he rests his cheek against it. “You gonna make me a broke man, sweetheart. What’s it cost, hm?”

You think for a moment, and Dean’s emerald eyes watch you closely from the spot between your legs where he’s nestled in.

“A kiss.” You hum.

“A kiss? That all?” He asks with a crooked grin. “I’ve got plenty of those in store.”

He rolls his broad shoulders to settle his body further into the warmth between your spread legs, before he places a soft kiss on the inside of your left thigh. Then quickly pinches the flesh between his teeth to make you squeak.

“See?” He mutters and peers up at you again, cheekiness tugging at his tired smile. But you smirk and roll your eyes.

“I want one every morning, every afternoon and every night before bed.” You add with a weak attempt at something that was meant to come across as playful. But Dean doesn’t fail to pick up on the vulnerability of it. The hidden motive.

His expression sobers up.

You want him to come back home safely. Every damn day.

The air between you has shifted in an instant. The casual banter suddenly transformed into something much more intimate, something vulnerable which gnaws at the deep connection you share. Something neither of you wanted to voice out loud.

But it was clear as day as it sat in the room with you two, weighing on both of your shoulders.

The ugly truth. A constant reminder of the fragility of your happiness.

And worst was, he knew it was a weight he couldn’t take away from you.

Lying to you, making hollow promises – none of those things would make it any less painful if fate decided to throw a curveball at you. And yet...

Your fingers threaded into his locks come to rest at the side of his head. He instinctively leans into your hand. Wants to commit it to his memory forever; the feeling of your soft touch, not only physical… but also the way you’re caressing his broken soul. With so much unconditional love – which he was convinced he didn’t deserve a fraction of.

“I- I’ll try,” he husks out. Voice raw, and more vulnerable than he’d liked it.

But it was you, he could lower his walls with you. At least a little.

He holds your gaze, and just for once, his eyes glaze over with a glimpse at his deeply burrowed fear, “Y'know I’ll always come back to you, right? Whatever it takes. Promise.”

He knew it was a lie.

But worst was, he saw past the smile that spread across your face, meant to reassure him;

You knew it too.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ J / NOTE And that's a wrap! Sorry for the angsty ending. I literally added it just two minutes before posting it (pls don't hate me). But I don't know what to think of how this last chapter turned out lmao. Not me rewriting this like a hunderd times. 💀 I hope it turned out enjoyable nonetheless. <3

“The Bad Wolf & The Sweet Vixen” + Dean Tag List

@aylacavebear @jc-winchester @ambiguous-avery @bettystonewell

@lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @v1v1-3 @maddie0101 @livya99

@supernotnatural2005 @Ms-kayla-readinglover @youdontknowe @waynes-multiverse @zepskies

❀ꗥ Want to join my TAG LIST? Fill out this form!

#fic rec #reading list #badwolf!dean x sweetvixen!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #smut smut smut #dean winchester #supernatural #lovely moots #jollyhunter

74 notes · View notes

sleepless-prince · 1 day ago

Text

AYO WICKED (MORE SPECIFICALLY FIYERO) ENJOYERS‼️

FANFIC ALERT

(Small preview at the bottom)

Since it really feels like it’s on its feet now and I think I’ll be able to start pushing it out publicly soon, I wanted to announce:

I have a wholesome Fiyero fanfiction I’ve been working on that started just due to the fact that Fiyero is accompanied by a Horse in the movie version. I immediately jumped as

1) A Horse

2) The bond and respect between my own horse and I

Currently it’s a boy and his Horse (more so, a Horse and his boy) on the trek to shiz.

There will be some bits of Fiyeraba later, probably some gelphiyero too, but it won’t be the main focus. I wanted this fic to focus on the friend/familial relationship the could exist between Fiyero and Feldspar.

However, I will note: I’m someone who grew up with Wizard of Oz and didn’t get into Wicked until I was older. With things the movie has done and mentions it’s made in comparison to the og stage production, I’ve been having the fun of making my own sort of amalgamated world of Wizard of Oz lore and Wicked lore and making them play nice together. Don’t worry though! It’s not unfamiliar as Wicked is still the focus and you wont be lost if you don’t know anything from the Wizard of Oz books. It doesn’t require that knowledge at all and only acts as some fun nods and namesakes if you do know.

NOW, I don’t really know yet how far I’m going with this fic and where it will end, so we’ll see. I do have two other fic ideas in my head though (if I ever do them) that would be connected to it. One a sort of.. prequel, and one a continuum.

(Like.. this fic is also just named “Honse” rn in my docs because I’ve yet to think of a title for it 💀)

Currently it’s at 2~3 chapters and I’ve head a couple friends reading it as it’s created for their reactions and feedback. So.. I honestly can’t wait to, hopefully soon, share it!

For now! Please enjoy the sort of.. introduction as a sample 🥺

——apologies if the format transferred weird——

"Shiz University.. sure, why not? The most acclaimed university in Oz. The "Shiznit." The top of the top that even Mr. Better Than Everyone Else Wogglebug praises. The perfect place to send a prince, but how long do you think it will take until I achieve their final disappointments?" The Winkie prince tossed a stray twig into the fire and sat back with a stretch.

"Well, personally, I think you could do great there, Fiyero." The Horse of a different color couldn't help but nicker as he laid down. "If you would just start reaching out to your teachers, or even me for that matter, instead of continuously pushing it off.. That never does you any good, you know. Besides, I've heard the professors at Shiz are quite good! A few of which I’ve heard are Animals!" Feldspar spoke proudly before grabbing an apple to snack on.

Of course Feldspar would be giving him a sort of.. pep-talk with Shiz only being another day away. No one knew him better than that Horse. He had a decent hoof in raising the prince afterall. It made Fiyero both very glad and somewhat afraid that his parents had agreed to the idea to let him travel with Feldspar. Although, there wasn't much convincing that needed to be had. They had immediately been on board with it from the second they heard it. He always enjoyed getting to travel with Feldspar anyway, getting moments to explore the roads less traveled (Oz knows Gillikin country had plenty of areas less traveled) and getting to camp out like this. These moments where there were no expectations and all the pressure would lift away from his body. Moments where his brain felt completely at ease. Not heavy or foggy, not scattered or numb, just.. clear.

"And, personally, I think you have too much faith in me," Fiyero didn't catch the smirk that casually slid onto his face. "However, I will admit that I am at least a little excited about the Animal professors. I always liked the Animal teachers better back at home anyway."

"Hmm," Feldspar shook his head before grabbing one of the apples to toss at the prince. Fiyero had to scramble a little, the heel of his boot kicking up dirt from the forest floor, but he managed to catch the apple before it flew over his head. Feldspar tried to hold it in first, but failed as quiet chuckles still escaped him. "You should believe in yourself a little more. And I don't mean when you're prancing around like a young pony."

"I do not prance around! I flaunt. Very strategically." He took a bite of the apple, turning his chin up in mock offense.

"Oh, I am very sorry, Your Highness. You flaunt around like a young pony." Feldspar's laughing was louder this time. "But I am serious, Fiyero. I want you to take care of yourself. Maybe find yourself some good beings to hang around with this time, hm? Some real friends?"

“I do take care of myself," he dismissed with a wave of his hand, "As for the other thing, I can at least promise you that I’ll try. Genuinely.” ‘Genuinely’ was the funny little keyword. He would genuinely try, he always did. Maybe it made it a little hard to make genuine connections when he kept his genuine self locked away, only for a select few to find out. However, it was always easier to get others to like you by locking that away. It made things less complicated and it never let anyone get too uncomfortably close either. Sure, he would watch and carefully decide who he might actually like, but the prior made it easier to drift around if he so needed.

“Well, a promise to try is the best I can ask for.” The horse settled, letting the prince finish his apple. Feldspar took the moment to sit in a comfortable silence, looking up to the sky. The stars shone brightly through the leaves and branches, making it look like a few were peeking out at them from behind the trees. It made him a little sad, bringing the thought to mind that these moments may start to become scarce. His young human, the one he swore to protect and look after, the one he had joined on many adventures, the one he witnessed almost every milestone of, Feldspar knew he’d soon be expected to fully step into princely duties. In a way, Shiz felt like the start of some sort of countdown and he knew Fiyero thought the same. He could tell from the way they had, admittedly, taken a longer route to Shiz.

“Do you want your blanket tonight?” The horse’s thoughts were interrupted by Fiyero who had stood back up to get to their supply. They hadn’t brought too much with them themselves, having sent a lot of their things to the school separately. This left their little mound of items being mostly made only of necessities for travel.

“Ah, no, no,” Feldspar looked over and his ears perked forward as he watched Fiyero rummage around their things.” I think I’ll be fine for tonight. Although, as always, I do appreciate you asking.”

“Of course, friend. You’re the one doing most of the work this journey. Checking in on you might be the absolute least I can do. Aaand, I couldn’t really tell if you were admiring the dark or just trying to predict tonight’s weather.” The prince replied with a slight chuckle as he grabbed his bed roll and blanket. Despite the various other… reputations that Fiyero had made for himself, Feldspar had always been glad to know the true Fiyero. Even if he knew that the prince had never truly allowed even him completely in. Despite the constant pressure and high expectations he grew up under, he was a good kid.

As the quiet settled again, leaving only the sound of the gentle breeze that weaved its way through the trees, Fiyero got comfortable for the night. Laying back on his mat, he let out a sigh through his nose. There was a chance that they would make it to Shiz tomorrow and he needed to start planning what he would do, what his entry would be, and how he’d come off. It was a top of the line university, but so were the schools he attended back in Winkie Country. However, with this being Gillikin Country, he no doubt would have the extra flair and draw of being a prince from another quadrant of Oz. Most people never got to do more than read about the other quadrants, so anything in regards to another quadrant tended to easily get people curious and excited.

“Goodness,” Feldspar spoke after his head lifted up into a yawn, bringing Fiyero’s attention back to the Horse. “That seems like the cue for me to start drifting. Rest easy, Your Highness.” With the campfire dimming, it was getting a little harder to see the Horse, his blue coat starting to meld with the dark of night, but Fiyero could still make out the movement of another big yawn from his friend. He couldn’t help but let a few gentle, warm laughs escape before rolling back over on his mat.

“Goodnight, you old Horse.”

#wicked #the wizard of oz #fanfic #wicked fanfiction #fiyero #fiyero tigelaar #fiyero x elphaba #fiyeraba #gelphiyero #elphaba thropp #feldspar #feldspur #I love the Horse that had like 5 minutes of screen time #if they take away his speech I fear it will be the end of me

22 notes · View notes