#cause it would have saved yes it would have saved me!

[theliving-radio]

The Meaning of “Big Brother”

Part: 1

Warnings: none, just fluff and sillies. Gender Neutral Reader. Platonic relationship. Malleus is now your big brother.

———————————————————————

Malleus is an only child. Until he dubbed you as his Baby Sibling, making him a Big Brother.

But what is a “Big Brother”? That’s been on his mind lately. What does it mean to be a “Big Brother”?

Malleus wishes to ask Lilia on the matter, but goes against it as it felt like the old fae would tease him. Silver is also an only child, and Sebek is the youngest of his siblings. So he couldn’t ask them either.

And so, Malleus sets off to ask some of the students that are Older Brothers too.

“What it’s like to be the older brother in the family?” Trey was surprised when the First Years came running to him, saying that Malleus Draconia wanted to see him. Trey was in the middle of making pie crust for a new recipe he wanted to try out when both Ace and Deuce showed up with Malleus in tow. But the question was more of a shocker than seeing Malleus Draconia in the Heartstabyul kitchen

“Yes. I’ve heard from Trappola and Spade that you are an Older Brother to many younger siblings. And that even students have claimed you as “The Older brother of Heartstabyul.”

Trey glances over at Ace and Deuce who were a bit embarrassed by it, but Trey only lets out an amused chuckle.

“Yeah, I have a few younger brothers and a little sister. We all live together with our parents who run a Bakery.”

“Interesting… and what are your ‘duties’ as an older brother?” Malleus questioned as he watched the Vice dorm leader go back to mixing.

“‘Duties’, huh? That’s one way of putting it. But I just do my best to make sure they don’t cause any trouble and aren’t fighting each other. One time, one of my brothers was teasing our sister to the point of crying… then proceeded to punch him. When I found them, they were both tussling in the middle of the Bakery. I had to scold them both.”

“Fascinating…”

After the mixing, Trey takes the dough out of bowl and places it on the kitchen counter where it can be kneaded. He looks over at Malleus who was writing down in a small notepad.

Did he have that the whole time?

“So when it comes to your younger siblings, you have to protect them from each other. Along with correcting their behavior towards one another.

“I mean, I guess? Yeah. Most of the time that responsibility would fall under our parents. But since I was the one to see it happen, I had to set things straight.”

“I see… Have they ever done anything to make you upset?”

Trey was in the middle of kneading the dough, but pulls away from it and places his hand on his chin, trying to think of something. Meanwhile Ace was trying to sneak towards the fridge to see if there were any tarts in there, Deuce wasn’t trying to signal him to not do it.

Without looking away from the dough, Trey picked up small metal spoon and threw it in the direction Ace was at. Causing him to yelp and curse under his breath at getting hit in the head with said spoon, and for getting caught.

Malleus was intrigued by the small exchange.

“There was a time where one of my brothers wanted to go to a Spelldrive game. He really wanted to go. I couldn’t say no to him, and so I got my entire allowance to buy a ticket for him. All the money I saved up for myself, just gone. Of course I was upset about it… but when he came home from the game he had the biggest smile on his face, and went straight to me to tell me everything that happened during the game. And I knew from that moment, I didn’t regret giving him all my money. And I would do it all over again, given the chance.” Trey smiled at the memory, Malleus took noticed and smiles as well.

“Maaan~ what a lucky kid. Wish you were my older brother, Trey-senpai!” Ace interrupted the heartfelt moment.

“Don’t you already have an older brother, Trappola?”

“Yeah, but he’s a dick!” Ace loudly declares as he crosses his arms. “To prove my point, one time while I was laying in bed, he walked into my room without saying anything, approached me, turned around and farted in my a face! He ran out laughing and I had to chase him to give him a what for!”

Malleus looked at Ace in pure horror. His older brother did that?! Is that normal???

He does not wish to lay his flatulence upon you!

Not his Baby Sibling!

“Ah yeah. I’m an only child. But I’ve heard siblings doing that to each other.” Deuce mention, which causes Malleus to turn to him in shock.

“So that is normal behavior among siblings?”

“Well…. Not really, every family is different, and every sibling bond can be different too. Some love each other, and there are some who hate each other.” Trey answered the Dragon Fae’s question as he set up placing the dough in the pan.

Malleus thought about Trey’s words. He does love you very much, he is your Big Brother after all! But even relationships and bonds can change over time. And he hopes his Baby Sibling does not turn to hate him one day.

“I see… Well I must thank you for this insightful information, Clover. I will have to leave now to get more information.”

“If you have any more question, just try to find me.”

Malleus nods as he makes his way out of the Heartstabyul’s dorm kitchen. As he leaves, he hears the sound of a smack and Ace yelling ‘What did I do?!’ While Trey’s response being ‘Do you want to be collared?’

“You came all the way here… to ask me how I treat my younger siblings?”

“Yes. That is exactly why I’m here.”

Out of all the places, Jack never once thought that Malleus’s Draconia would come over to Savanaclaw dorm… to ask about family…

“… why?”

“Recently I have become an Older Brother, and I am asking for advice from others who are one as well.”

“Ah.” Jack… was still not expecting that answer.

It’s no secret from the school that Malleus Draconia, future king of Briar Valley, one of the top powerful mages in all of Twisted Wonderland…

Has dubbed you as his “Baby Sibling” and has taken the role “Big Brother” seriously.

How did this arrangement came to be? Nobody knows.

Jacks ear twitches as he crosses his arms. Before Malleus came by, Jack was actually going to be headed to the botanical gardens to help Ruggie find Leona. Unfortunately the dragon fae stopped him before he was able to walk out of the dorms lounge room.

“I heard from Schoenheit that you have a younger brother and sister,” Malleus took notice that Jack’s tail swayed a bit when Vil was brought up.

“… you heard correctly. Both are in elementary school.”

Jack isn’t gonna lie.

This is kinda awkward, and weird.

“Jack, you’re still here? I thought you were gonna help me-“ Ruggie entered the lounge and stopped in his tracks as he saw Malleus. The Hyena Beastmen looks over at Jack, his eyes saying ‘Help me’. Ruggie doesn’t know what he walked in on.

“Good Afternoon,Bucchi. Sorry to come here unannounced, but I just wanted to ask Howl on his relation to his younger siblings are like.” Malleus answered earnestly.

Ruggie blinks once. Then twice.

What?

“What? Why?”

“Since I am a Big Brother now, I wish to know the responsibilities of taking care of a younger siblings. So I am asking other students advice and experiences they’ve had,” Malleus looked pleased with himself at his own reasoning. Ruggie on the other hand, was confused by the Fae’s reasoning. Really?

“And you’re asking Jack because…?”

“He too, is also a Big Brother.”

Ruggie turns to Jack who just gave him a curt nod. “Ok, but like can’t you just look it up?”

“Ah, I’m not really good with technology…”

Is this guy for real?!

“… both of my siblings are very energetic. They can play hide and seek for six hours straight without getting tired.” Jack goes back to the topic at hand.

“Six hours?!”

“Oh my, how do you get them to calm down?” Malleus asked as he gets out his notepad and pen. Ruggie and Jack just blink at him as the Dragon Fae waited patiently for an answer.

Jack coughs in his fist to clear his throat, “Well, mom sometimes has issues when it’s time for bed. Lately though, she has been sneaking in sleeping medication into their drinks. Just small doses to help them calm down when it’s time to sleep.” The Wolf Beastmen explained as he recounts the events.

Malleus writes down in the notepad, wanting to get it all down. Ruggie leans over and tries to get a small glimpse of what the Fae wrote down, curious on what he has so far.

“So, you and your mom would go to extreme measures to make sure your siblings would have a healthy life style?”

“I wouldn’t say extreme… just, some actions we have to take.”

“Understood…” Malleus shuts his notepad, making Ruggie tense up from the force of it.

“Well, thank you very much Jack Howl for answering my questions. I am going to take my leave now, the sun is still out, and I still have many questions and learning to do. It was nice to see you too Bucchi.” Malleus bows to both Beastmen and begins to make his way to the Mirror Chamber.

“…dude, what just happened?”

“I dont know… giving out family advice?” Jack scratched the back oh his neck, perplexed by the exchange.

Malleus flipped through his notes as he walks out the Savanclaw dorm. He still had a lot of questions that need to be answered. He wanted to be prepared.

Malleus wanted to be the best Big Brother you’ve ever had, after all!

—————————————————————————————

I legit just wanted to write like a small prompt, but then brain kept going “MORE!!!”

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed part 1! I’ll be preparing for part 2 hopefully soon! So enjoy my idea of Big Brother Malleus!

[bettystonewell]

TO YOU I BELONG: CHAPTER 2

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Summary: Dean isn't looking for a mate, and the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain't real. He still has free will, and saving you is just another part of the job. Except, monsters aren't the only things you need saving from... 18+ only MDNI

Chapter Word Count: 4.1k words

Chapter Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, language, referenced physical abuse, referenced sexual assault, injuries to reader

A/N: I’m not as happy with the last two scenes as I was at time of posting - damn brain - I overthink too much. Some wording might be changed between now and the next one, but not the overall plot

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

The way the heat radiated off of you was just as Dean remembered, reminding him of what little memories he had of his mom of all things.

Your softness. The curve of your hips. Your body moulding perfectly into his had his blood thrumming in his ears and down below. Okay, that was nothing like his mother, he hoped, but he was enamoured. Had they been dealing with witches or wood nymphs, he’d say spellbound, struck by a potion or curse and growing soft.

It was hard not to be when his inner alpha acted so possessive over you.

‘Mine,’ it rumbled. Snarling and gnawing away at his resolve piece by piece, even though hours earlier, the responsibility and temptation of a mate was something he didn’t want.

‘She deserves better,’ he tried to reason with himself. Though anyone and anywhere different was an improvement on living here with your alpha in this middle of nowhere cesspool, and ‘We’d never hurt her,’ countered him back.

No, he would not. Nor would Dean ever try to scent or mark you while you were injured. He was determined by that. Knowing if he was gonna claim you, he’d have to wait and do things right. If you agreed and became his, anyone who tried to whisk you away as he had just done wouldn’t live to tell the tale, and…

What the hell was he thinking? Claiming you? Making you his?

How ‘bout where the fuck was your supposed alpha? The one whose stench soured your own. The one he hadn’t bothered looking for, and rather just picked up and took off with you.

Yeah…

Dean would never let you out of his sight. He’d never do this to you in the first place, either though, and his fingers flexed where they held you.

He was quick to release them.

‘Round your side and under your knee, the action caused your thighs to squeeze together and your breath to hiss on its inhale.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said.

He didn’t dare use omega again. Not now. Not to your face. His alpha could call you that term all it wanted, but with your matted hair now feathering the stubble on his chin when you shook yours, his gut churned.

“No. You’re helping me,” you said. “I should be thanking you.”

You may as well have struck him with a blade. Reached right through skin and flesh and into his stomach cavity and assisted the churning; further twisted his insides with your bare hands to yank them out, even. Hell, he’d do it himself. Save some time. Same effect.

“Yeah, well, I let you go back to your alpha before I knew how he’d treat you,” he said. And he should’ve known better, but so should you.

“I told you I—”

“Don’t.” He clicked his tongue. “You know I’ve thrown a lot of punches? Been on the receiving end of them too, and there’s no way those injuries were from a doorknob. So you wanna try me again?”

“I said I fell,” you whispered, and Dean stopped in his tracks, crackling the gravel beneath his boots. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Well, no, he could. You’d used that lie already in the park.

He bent his torso to leer a cocked brow, regretting that decision the second his spine moved. What little light there was above revealed more than he’d bargained for.

Yes, your thighs tightened above his arms. But so did every joint, muscle and nerve ending in his own body along with them.

Your right eye and the opposite cheekbone had distinct patches of mismatched colour, spreading. He’d say you were wearing lipstick. Only the last time he checked, makeup didn’t come with a clear, watery film around it. No. Dean knew an uppercut when he saw one. He knew the strength of an aroused alpha, too.

The shirt you wore had ripped more, and though his initials were still sitting right there, they were harder to distinguish because abrasions and puncture marks now covered them.

He felt sick. That churning in his gut would spill over you if he weren’t careful.

How?

Why?

You were his mate. Even without his scent, the swelling that billowed from your neck gave that away.

You weren’t in heat; from the scent, he wasn’t in rut, and that information just made Dean’s blood boil more than it already was. “Did he force his knot on you?”

“Ritchie…is my mate.” And your pause was telling.

“I don’t care who he is. That’s not what I’m asking you. What did he do to you?”

As if a switch had flicked, or in this case, floodgates opened. The stench of your alpha’s sack wafted up into his nose, along with more fear from you.

Your eyes filled with tears. Your limbs scrambled to pull away from him. The added stench of pine and a cheap aftershave that wasn’t his swept through the remnants of cum and sweat. But as much as that recoiled him, Dean still leaned back, taking a firm grip to shift your weight in his arms. He wasn’t letting you go.

He took a deep breath over the shame hitching in his throat, and, “I’m sorry,” he said again. Only this time, it held more than one meaning. He just hoped he could make it all up to you.

When Dean reached the motel carpark, his feet kicked up faster across the ground. “Sammy!” he yelled, not caring who heard him - he’d punch the lights outta anyone who got in his way.

His steel cap boot was raised and ready to strike the chipped wood as he yelled a second time, only for Sam to beat him to it by opening the door. His mouth, just as wide.

“Dean?”

There was no lost puppy in sight. No soft and caring younger brother who could get even a drill sergeant to crumble with one look. His eyes scanned their way across your form, though, widening along with everything else before they narrowed, honing in on where Dean’s initials should’ve been. “What—”

“What do you think?” Dean curled his frame through the door, allowing your feet to enter the room before him and the fluorescent lights to highlight the marring on your skin.

“I’ll get some ice,” Sam said, and swept his way to the fridge.

“Grab the first aid kit, too,” Dean barked back as he carried you over to his bed.

He dipped your toes to the floor, keeping his arms near as you found your footing; lifting a fraction to see the full extent of his claim. The bruising was still forming. Your skin wouldn’t turn black and blue for another couple of days, but the swelling, plus the dried blood and weeping cuts, showed early signs of infection.

His stomach stopped mid flip only to drop like a stone, heavy and solid. It sloshed the bile up his pipes, crashing over that hitch in his throat. It burned. His shoulders shrunk. His knees buckled below him.

How could… No. He could ask that until the cows came home. Until his mouth was black and blue from lack of air, it changed nothing.

“Sit down, sweetheart,” he said. Course, it wasn’t a command, but your hesitation made even his toes clench.

He needed to sit. Chuck. He needed to punch your alpha’s head in - both of them - and he dropped to his haunches, encouraging you down, too. Arms rested on his thighs, holding himself up even though every molecule and thought weighed him down.

He could hunch over this way. Push the acid and lack of self worth back into the pit of his gut and away from you. Close enough to touch when needed - and fuck, he wanted to - his knot still twitched at the thought. Skin crawling with an itch he shouldn’t scratch, just to add on to all the other effects the sight of you did to him.

But what to say? What to do? You still sniffled. Gaze well directed away from him and looking down. It was really fucking awkward, spinning miles ‘round Sammy’s looks in the car.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to see those eyes of yours up close if they were gonna rival the puffiness of your injuries, but he tried getting their attention, anyway. His amber greens flicking over his initials again and running with it. Anything to drown out everything else.

“You know the, ah, the W stands for Winchester.” His boyish chuckle tethered off when your lip curled. “And you’re—”

Dean knew your name from the missing persons sheet, but hearing you repeat it then and there was a much needed do-over. If it weren’t for your injuries staring you both in the face, you could almost class this moment as normal if he tried hard enough. You’d been with him on the hunt after all, and if he just ignored the last two hours, his shower, the park, this could simply be agood old stich-up. Nothing more.

“Right.” He repeated your name, surprised at the way it rolled off his tongue with a pleasurable rumble. It suited you. Hell, it suited him. “Will you let me clean you up?”

“Okay,” you whispered, head nodding. Mouth and body out of sync until he gave you a nod back and your smile spilled a smidgen further into your cheeks.

There you were. Sort of. The omega he’d seen at the nest before he’d touched you and brought all this on.

His fingers flexed. Insides unravelled into a warmth that made his heart thrum faster and his head feel light. “Then we’re gonna need a few things,” he said, and stood up, distracting his mind and knot as he scoured the room for something that resembled a washcloth and a basin. Made easy by the grime and grease before him.

The film on the fridge. The stench of cigarettes competing with Ritchie’s. You didn’t belong with him, but you didn’t belong here either. That became more apparent as he moved throughout the room, collecting what he could.

Coffee-pot, brewed twice with water for cleanliness, then usage. A clean shirt from his duffle, sniff-tested first, and a bottle of Jack he found in Sam’s. By the time Dean returned to sit before you, chair and supplies in tow, he’d returned with the ice, and a compress was made. Dean’s shirt doing wonders.

“Here. Hold this.” He brought the icy bundle up to your mate’s claim and placed it over the inflamed skin. There was that outta sight, outta mind again, except your fingers brushed over his on handover and he took pause through your latest hiss.

It was like a scene from a crappy romance movie. Some guy getting all worked up over the girl. 

The kind were they were almost always soulmates, of course, and always meeting in high school or college and in the most convenient of places - funny ‘bout that.

You in the park, all banged up and injured. Your mate, nowhere to be seen. Of all the cases Sam could’ve found. Of all the people, being the one they needed to rescue was as far-fetched as one of those movies, too. But then there was that warmth from your skin. His damn gut and the newfound tingling of his nerves. It was all too real. 

Was this it? Was this his crappy movie?

You were here, and he was here and…Sam was hovering over his shoulder. 

“Ah, Dean, sorry to interrupt, but can I talk to you real quick?” he said from behind.

He didn’t want to talk to Sam. Real quick never meant real quick for starters, and he had a felling he knew what he was going to say. 

“What’re you thinking?” he’d ask. Or “What’re you doing, Dean?” 

Well, Dean didn’t know himself, besides knowing he wanted to be near you. To keep you under his watchful eye. His alpha, ready to strike if Sam or anyone else so much as looked at you the wrong way. 

Damn instincts. But was it them, or the pull of being a soulmate? Like a mother, bonded and bound to her pups, one gaze was all all it took?

His alpha snarled at that, and Dean sighed. ‘Okay, maybe not.’

He crooked his neck over his shoulder, flicking his eyes over your hand first. “Can it wait?” he said as they landed on Sam’s bitch face. 

“No, it can’t.” 

He should’ve known.

“What the hell, Dean?” Sam said as he paced under the awning outside the room. His hands shoved in his pockets, straining them, arms stiff as a board, even though his elbows flapped everywhere like some giant chicken.

“She’s hurt.” Of course, Dean knew full well what he’s actually meant - he didn’t need to play dumb. He had planned to come to Sam in his own time after he’d finished helping you as intended. Thanks to the interruption, though, he was now indignant, standing tall even with the messed up insides. They still dragged him down, but he put up a fight. 

More so, when Sam struck the cord, he wished to forget.

“What happened to her being nothing to you?” he said all too knowingly.

“I wanna help her.” He needed to.

“And you can. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing. She already has a mate and—”

Dean shook his head. “The son of a bitch raped her, Sammy,” he said, self-blame replacing his usual gruffness and spitfire. He wasn’t at fault for what had happened to you. He understood that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t hold some accountability.

Your alpha had struck you because of him. He’d attacked you. Forced himself on you in what Dean could only presume to be a bout of jealousy, and all he saw was the part he’d played by taking you home to him. 

“You know that’s not on you.”

“Yeah.” Yet his eyes grew dim all the same. He lowered them, focusing on the ground. His boots scraping the pavement, now the most fascinating thing in the world over Sam’s, which widened when he said, “And I ain’t letting her go back to him. If she doesn’t want me, that’s her choice, but there’s no way that fucker will ever lay a hand on her again.

“O-kay. Let’s ignore the part about you wanting her for a second. What’re you planning to do about him? If they’re bonded, chances are he’ll be sniffing ‘round here soon.”

Dean was hearing what his brother was saying. He was, and he had a solid point. He’d need a plan to set you free, but bonding? “I don’t think there’s a bond between ‘em. I found her in the park outside their building, and he was nowhere in sight.”

“He could be asleep?”

Dean’s chin receded into his neck. “You realise how ridiculous you sound?” 

“Do you?” 

Those words turned Dean’s body still as if he were made of stone. Eyes stuck and narrowed like the wind had changed. Jaw tight. Maybe he had fallen asleep after popping his knot. The asshole hadn’t filed the report when you were taken, your coworker had, and “I’ll deal with him if he shows,” he said.

“Dean. That’s not what—”

“Are we done?”

Sam sighed. His right hand left his pocket, and he gestured back to the room behind. “I’ll be in the car.”

Dean hadn’t even finished closing the door behind him when the smell of fresh tears flooded his nose. He’d swept across the tattered carpet once again and sat on the end of the bed next to you before his mind had even registered it was happening.

Just as his own instincts had pushed him to you, yours buried your face in the crook of his shoulder. His flannel soaked up your tears.

He wanted to ease your pain, but what could he say? He didn’t have the right to comfort you because he hadn’t protected you when you needed him. His soulmate. Not that he understood what that meant.

He was a grunt, with nothing to his name, and you were, well, he still had no fucking clue besides knowing you had his initials on your skin.

The norm was for him to want you. The scary thing was, he did. Far too much for his liking.

He had lusted over you and continued to do so even now, when he was supposed to be helping you. If your mate’s jealousy was dangerous, Dean’s instincts were more so.

They swooped his arm behind your back, letting your fingers grip his shirt. Letting your tears soak into it. He even had the audacity to brush his lips through your hair and place a chaste kiss, only to feel disappointed when your body tensed and you let him go.

“I’m sorry.” You sniveled and swiped at your eyes. Only to wince when your palms got too close. “Where’s your brother?”

Of all the things you could have said, your concern for someone other than yourself had him more smitten. There was seriously something wrong with him.

“He’s sleeping in the car tonight.”

Your hands wiped at your eyes, and you pushed yourself out of his hold. “I don’t want to put him out.”

He should’ve been happy you’d considered Sam, but his inner alpha snuck through, rough and a little snappy. “He’s sleeping in the car tonight.”

“I don’t want to put him out.”

“You’re not,” he muttered, reaching down to pick up his now wet shirt that had dropped to the floor below. He didn’t want to talk about Sam. He didn’t wanna talk about your mate either, though he knew it was inevitable. “Let’s get more ice on your neck. We gotta stop that swelling.”

He stood up and moved to the table where Sam had left the bucket earlier, and after refilling his makeshift compress, came back and took your hand again. “Here.” He positioned it over the icy bundle to hold it in place. “You’ll need some on your eye too, but that bite is a priority at the moment.”

Of course, there was still that ulterior motive to keep the offending section of skin covered, but as selfish as it was, Dean hoped that by forcing his own scented item over the top of it, you might form a bond with him.

Yeah. He was delusional, so he set the internal struggle aside, and got to work.

His hand reached for a piece of gauze floating in the now tepid water and squeezed the excess back into the coffeepot, while the other cupped your chin and pulled you to face him. With steady fingers, he brought it up to your cheeks and dabbed as gently as he was able.

“Sorry,” he said when you hissed at the touch. He needed a recording if it would save his throat some pain and allow that lump to heal. “If you wanna do this yourself, I’ll help you to the bathroom.”

“No.” Your head jiggled more than shook. “It’s bad enough I can feel it.”

Dean could understand that. Not that he feared what he saw. For him, what he couldn’t grasp was seeing your face marred that crushed him, raising the question of how.

He knew the logistics of it. You’d been struck a number of times, and while he still suspected jealousy was the cause, it made no sense. Why would your mate do this to you?

“Do you love him?” He knew he was crazy to ask, but truthfully, he wanted to know if this douchebag did or not.

“What?”

It was a simple question, and very telling that you answered that way.

“Your alpha. Do you love him?” He repeated, waiting for any unspoken clues you might give.

You took your time. For Dean it was agonising, but when you did speak, his heart panged with relief and dismay. “I thought I did,” you said. “But I didn’t think he’d do this either.”

Dean’s eyes glassed over your neck. Your claim didn’t swell like that earlier. It seemed unusual to him for an Omega not in heat. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

“I met my soulmate.”

He swallowed hard. “So he did do this because of me.”

Your head moved against him. “He didn’t believe me when I told him you didn’t want me.”

You had struggled to finish your sentence, but you didn’t need to for Dean to understand. Though he couldn’t see your face, the room was now flavoured with rejection, and while it relieved his doubts of self-worth, it upset him to know you thought that.

“But I do want—”

“Please don’t. That’s not you doing the talking. Your instincts are.”

Just as you’d said, your neck and the punctures that formed a ring around it continued to draw his eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. Mine are affecting me, even though I have a mate. If you had wanted me, you wouldn’t have taken me home.”

Dean often struggled with words, spitting out whatever came to him at the moment, whether they were full of shit or something else. But he wouldn’t let that thwart him. Not when the stakes were this high.

He dropped everything and adjusted his arms to scoop you up into his lap.

Your chest heaved, your brow grew sweaty, and his sharp senses heard the blood as it flowed to all the correct places in your body. Inside his, it did the same.

“You’ve got it all wrong.” Dean’s fingers moved on their own accord, pulling the hand and arm that attached to them to trace over the scratches and cuts that covered your shoulders. “I thought you’d be safer with him.”

“So did I,” you said. And it sliced him deep.

You hadn’t meant it that way, but Dean’s psyche was so full of self-loathing that even though he wished you weren’t, he had already decided you were fearful of him.

Depleted and forever quick to act, he lifted you with ease and set you back onto the bed. “I should get you some more ice.”

He picked up his shirt and moved to stand, but before he could, your gentle touch gripped his arm. “Alpha?” The pleasant sound warmed his ears and tugged at his chest. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not scared of you.”

You were more perceptive than Dean thought.

“Well, you don’t need to be scared of him anymore either,” followed the smirk that curled his lips as his back turned away from you. He really did need ice.

Four hours later, Dean was still wide awake while you slept under a pile of blankets in the bed next to him. Wearing sweats instead of his jeans, he sat up against the headboard. His ass, purposely on top of the covers. His knot just as alert as he was. 

Morning wood had never been more painful.

It hadn’t taken long for you to go down for the count after the first-aiding was done, no doubt exhausted as well as sore, but he worried about how your body would react when it woke up.

Last he’d seen you walking, your step held a jockeys gait. All movement, purposeful and slow. 

You’d had no issues showering. It had just taken some time. Maybe if he’d helped, things would’ve gone faster, but he didn’t dare offer. Even though his inner alpha wanted him to.  

You’d also had no issue stealing his jacket, having taken it when you thought he wasn’t looking. The washed-denim sleeve poked out, as did your toes next to it. The sight of both bringing out his biggest grin. 

No wonder he couldn’t sleep. It was just a shame he had to confront your mate. 

He wasn’t scared at all. Nope, far from it. He couldn’t wait to punch the fucker’s lights out. But you were still his, and a small fragment of Dean’s mind feared you may choose him, even after the horrible treatment you’d endured at his hands.

With a groan, he leaned over and fished for his phone. It was close enough to six to not be too early for coffee, and he swung his bow legs to the ground, stretching his arms out wide; gaining two large cracks from his neck and shoulders as muscle and bone satisfyingly pulled away from each other. 

He then braced himself to stand with his hands on his thighs, but the sound of blankets shifting and a fresh wave of omega scent laced with undertones of him flew under his nose, stopping him in his tracks. It brought another smile to his face and another rush of blood to his groin.

But he had a job to do. A mission. A quest. And without further ado, he jumped to his feet and shuffled towards the bathroom, keeping his morning wood pointing in a direction he hoped you couldn’t see if you were to rouse. There was no way of hiding it when he was standing.

He was quicker about things behind the closed door. No one could argue Dean Winchester wasn’t a multi-tasker. From brushing his teeth to taking a much needed leak, he accomplished it all under the icy stream he’d chosen to cool himself off with.

Thoughts of you, Ritchie, and what he was going to do plagued him while he washed. They continued to follow him as he dried off, then carefully slunk through the main room to further afield outside, where he found Sam cramped on Baby’s back seat.

The deep brown mop of Sam’s hair rose behind the matte black paint of the Impala’s side, sticking up against the window from the static that came with a cooler morning’s air.  

“Rise and shine, Sammy.” Dean fisted the glass above his brother’s head for added effect. Sam was lucky he hadn’t opened the door on him, because that had crossed his mind. 

He wasn’t that cruel. Mediocre at best.

“I need you awake, man,” his voice hissed through the cracked open window.

“Dean?” Sam’s startled head flayed around the Impala’s cabin.

He stepped back to give his brother space to get out, throwing the room keys at him when he surfaced with no warning. 

Sam’s large hands fumbled as they landed on his chest. The silver tumbling through his knuckles like a creature come alive. “What’s going on?” 

“I need you on babysitting duties.”

“Babysit—Where are you going?” Sam stared at him dumbfounded until Dean flashed his best smirk.

One could say he was being cocky, and maybe he was. But in this instance, he needed all the confidence he could muster.

“To deal with Dick,” he said.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Are we feeling the connection? Do we hate her mate? Did I name him Ritchie just so I could make a tonne of Dick jokes? You bet I did! Have I used it enough? Eh, time will tell, but I sure had fun with the next one!

Chapter 3 - Confronting - 07/03

Inside, Dick’s every movement was under his scrutiny. He wanted him to fuck up. To say or do something stupid. That way, Dean had probable cause. It would make whatever he ended up dishing out sit better on his conscience if he heard Dick admit it himself.

So Dean poked the bear. Outright asking him, “Did she say that while you were raping her?”

“I marked her as mine.”

Those words were Dick’s second mistake. He’d just given Dean the chopping block.

“And I suppose she didn’t ask you to stop when you hit her and tried to scratch my initials out of her skin, either?” Dean’s voice remained void of all emotion, even as the anger bubbled in his gut. If he held a mirror to his soul, Dick’s face would have been its reflection.

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa @jollyhunter @zepskies

@reluctanthalfwayoptimism @supernotnatural2005 @jackles010378 @kaz-2y5-spn @applelovesposts

@jaydensluv @foxyjwls007 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @waynes-multiverse

@kazchester-fanfiction @maddie0101 @ladykitana90 @luvr4miya @amyjam78

@stoneyggirl2 @winchesterwild78 @missywinchester15 @deansbbyx @kr804573

@lyarr24 @salemslostwitch @mostlymarvelgirl @ladysparkles78 @multiversefanfics

@31miw-inkpsycho

@montlynamechange @deansimpalababy

@justherefortheficandsmut

@emma1998sblog

@livingdeadblondequeen

@spn-fanfic-reblog-writes @losers-clvb

@looneyoompa @linkilocks11 @nellybellyy

If you'd like to be tagged in this or any of my other works, please let me know, or you can add yourself HERE

[powderpinkprincess]

Dear Fans from all around Europe!

Do you have a favorite celebrity? Have you ever stared at their picture for just a second too long? Do you read fanfictions at 1 a.m., hiding under your blanket? (cause I do, x readers are my toxic obsession)

Good news! You might be exactly the kind of fascinating human I need for my thesis research. 🎓📚 If you are a European fan over 18, who has 15 minutes for me, I really need your help (yes, YOURS- no, don't look away now, we all have our lovely, toxic obsessions).

📝 Please fill out my questionnaire here! 📝

https://pszppke.qualtrics.com/jfe/form/SV_9AAAvEMv8E1SWQm It’s anonymous, scientifically important, and it might save your favorite celebrity from me trying to hunt them down with my tears and pleadings (see the attached unphotoshopped pictures).

💖 Do it for science. Do it for the parasocial bond we’re forming right now. Do it because your fave would want you to. Be a part of the majestic 500 I'm aiming for.

Thank you so much! powderpinkprincess here, Dóri in real life, desperate in school

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to The Light's Chapter 411

Brief summary: Cale acts as a villain, causing confusion to the GoC cult and wanderers. The sacrifices are flown up and received by Raon and the others.

==========

The records that Cale had stolen were actually called the bible/holy scriptures. Only someone who received the power of GoC could touch it, or they would suffer a horrible death. Thus, the GoC clergy were confused on how Cale could hold their scriptures.

Cale: *threatens to tear the scriptures* Bishop: Saint! Is that person on GoC's side? Saint: It's possible, but other people can also touch the bible. Bishop: There are? Saint: Yes. Wanderers with a Five-Color ranked unique power. Bishop: !!! Saint: And one more… A god. Bishop: Huh? God?

Cale couldn't escape the god allegations again. 😂😂😂 He kept laughing madly, that both the GoC cult and the twin wanderers mutually called him a crazy bastard. 🤣🤣🤣

The wanderers arrived, and Cale busted the GoC cult, telling the twins that GoC was about to descend and planned to trample on the omnipotent god from the very beginning. The twins got angry, of course, and went about destroying the place.

Cale dove into the lake to steal the divine item, and the saint followed him. Meanwhile, Eru and Rosalyn succeeded in flying up the captives. Raon received Eru's message and began to save them. Though it was funny that Raon had to step up because CH was a bad actor.😂😂😂

Sun God saintess NPC: Who are you guys? Raon: We are from the Dark Kingdom! We are superb strong! So we can save everyone!

The Sun God saintess could feel the power of the sun, and she mistook the light (mana of Eru and Rosalyn) surrounding the captives to be that of the sun because it was warm. Alberu was just standing there and he was already being misunderstood like Cale. 🤣🤣🤣

The chapter title of "Night and Light" was actually the quest name given to users.

[Do you wish to accept the quest 'Night and Light'?] [The light shines brighter because there is night. The night and light are here now, trying to save this world. Will you help them?] [Can you help me save this world, this universe, this game?]

Ending Remarks Villain Cale was having fun. But he probably won't be having fun soon once all the flags he planted activates. 😂 Next chapter would probably be the fight between Cale and the GoC saint.

[maybequinnidk]

2x17

i didn't watch the crossover

the president 🚨🚨🚨

they're that couple

awkwaaard

"hey, that's me 😄"

that's not her name but ok i suppose they wouldn't know

confident kara >>>

these alien designs are cool

at least three sides to every story

kara needs some girl friends

the orphan alien urge to save people

james what was your plan

intimidating winn. ok !!!

c'mon j'onn lets goooo

protective girlfriend alex

relationships are relationships because there's more than one party, mother

this king has no idea of what's happening ever

i like that it isn't about the cheating itself

i love kelly and i ship dansen, but rewatching sanvers always makes me wish they were endgame

wait they did know her name. imagine the problems it would have cause if they had her name in the wanted poster hologram. that would have been interesting

mon-el's prince wu arc (legend of korra)

melissa action scenes my beloved

ok so i was wrong about no one going no-contact with their parents (in 2x08 i think it was)

and the sapphics are happy for another day ☺️

yes, we know she's an alien.

they can compliment each other? im shocked

"she asks that you remember her. you won't || everything goes dark, and you die"

rewatching and commenting SG because it's leaving netflix soon, s2

season 1 was satisfying overall, not that frustrating

lots of lena

2x01

why another location? whatever, it's fine. i like the old place too, alex

I 100% believe that kara thought the online quiz would be accurate, just like she thought the dating app in 1x01 would be, bc the algorithm cant possibly be wrong right? bc that's how it was on krypton

"kiera danvers"

eve !!!! i love her so much

"MISS TESSMACHER" counter: 1 (lex stole that from ms grant)

the striped one looked better

i just wanted kara to be a space nerd. is that too much to ask??? "yes", the cw responds

thank god cat and lena weren't there

oh look it's him. so inoffensive

super cousins save the day together counter: 1

new and upgraded title card

in s1 j'onn didn't seem to have beef with clark when they mentioned him that one time

her skirt has pockets. i want it

ok so crushing on kryptonians give badass CEOs prosopagnosia, got it

LENAAAAA 🚨🚨🚨 KATIEEEE

"and who are you exactly?" does she not recognize her gf?

a fic where cat and lena are friends and talk about their crushes on clark and kara to each other and the other is like "you do know that their are a super, right?" and the other is like "pfft nah"

"mr. kent" she says as if she doesn't know who he is. as if he wasn't lex's best friend once upon a time. as if they're complete strangers. but after everything they might as well be

kara's unwavering belief in lena counter: ∞

they should stop talking about super stuff in the middle of a croud

another partnership ruined bc of kryptonite

another batman reference. they said gotham this time. improvements

"i was thinking italian, I could fly there" not gonna say it, not gonna say it. there's four seasons to go still

her dress also has pockets?? amazing

"MISS TESSMACHER" counter: 2

im gonna miss her

"who would want lena luthor dead?" j'onn. my man. who doesn't want her dead? have you met her family? they hate her! and the luthor-haters also hate her

kaznia mentioned

you know what? her face does look different with glasses and her hair up

not them casually talking like they didn't just meet today

alex's fight scenes are so good

lena with a gun counter: 1

Kara's brain turning into mush when lena talks to her. mood

cat is already proud of her protege

she's leaving

"miss tessmacher" counter: 1

she really said "something has changed within me, something is not the same. im through with playing by the rules of someone else's game"

winn rambling is cute

cousin banter. cute too

i wish kal-el had been more present in kara's life for her sake. but for my sake, im glad he is not so present in the show

ugh lillian

[tallytals]

i put you are the apple on the femskk playlist but the more i listen to it it’s actually an sskk song

[what-even-is-sleep]

thinking about Bodkin again bc I mean,,, ALL THE SYMBOLISM OHHHHHGH. i NEED some tumblr film analysis hobbyists to watch this show and tell me all the themes n such

[allthenicknamesweretaken]

How the hell do you draw a hood

[mariocki]

David Collings guests as Alan Campbell-Gore, a distubed young man, in Gideon's Way: The Prowler (1.18, ITC, 1966)

[energeticpoltergeist]

good time to mention im not just a one fandom guy- yep im into FE as well, and my brayne has decided to make that it's current focus (it has a habit of jumping fandom to fandom at random) anyways this was created cause my two friends have no idea what the fuck i am talking about half the time when it comes to Fire Emblem

[widevibratobitch]

moments like this when im really glad im a sad little cynic who always considers the worst possible outcome and never lets herself truly get comfortable and trust the good things in her life to stay there and builds her life around trying to soften the blows of the eventual disappointments just waiting around the corner lol never leaving my edgy teenager era peace and love

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

hate how im now at a point where im legit like kicking my legs and grinning like an idiot over fictional characters SEND HELP

[hauntingblue]

Sengoku asking ace what is wrong. WHAT DO YOU THINK

[obstinaterixatrix]

why are industry professionals constantly wrong about my special little shows. WHICH AREN’T EVEN OBSCURE IN POPULARITY OR MEANING. *HOW* MANY PAPERS AND BOOKS AND ESSAYS ETC ARE THERE ON SWEENEY TODD THE SONDHEIM MUSICAL?? WHERW THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS GETTING YOUR INTERPRETATIONS

[miami2k17]

the amount of money i spend visiting montreal in year ... im sure if i added it up i would legitimately fall over and die like i do not want to know but i do know it's so fucking much

[reiderwriter]

☎️ Don't Call Me ☎️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: After catching your boyfriend cheating, you find accidental comfort in your coworker. With your phone ringing nonstop, you're willing to do whatever it takes to start fresh.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, bug mentions (cockroaches), cheating, exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, slight spanking, mentions of masturbation. Dom! Spencer.

A/N: Haha... hi guys... been a while 😚 Please enjoy the fic I dreamed up over a month ago now, and was finally able to conjure up!

Masterlist

If you were to be asked how you assumed a five-year-long relationship would end, you'd likely say something like irreparable differences. Maybe a difference in lifestyle, growing out of love, or even different plans for the future. Unfortunately, the irreparable difference your boyfriend had chosen at 10 pm on a Thursday evening was being balls deep in an irreparably different woman. 

You supposed you should've seen the signs the relationship was drawing to a close and likely you did, but with your job itself being a life or death situation almost daily, you really didn't have much time to worry about the fact that your boyfriend was sowing his oats in other fields. Based on the look of the woman spread across your bed, the oats weren't that great for her either. 

Your reaction had been somewhat delayed, but curiously not as much as hers. She'd been wonderfully blasé about the man writhing on top of her before you started screaming and throwing things, and even now you were armed with a vase of flowers (dead - you'd bought them yourself before the case you'd been on for the last two weeks) she still looked slightly bored. But at least her legs were together now, and not gynaecologist level apart. 

Your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend? - managed to regain an ounce of dignity with a scrap of clothing, and did his best to shepard you out of the crime scene as you regained the ability to hold coherent thoughts that weren't about strangling him with his own tie. 

“Listen to me, please just for five minutes-” 

“Listen? I was just listening! To you moaning into that woman's shoulders with your eyes rolled back in your head!” 

It was as if in the last few minutes all the love you'd had for this man, all five years of relationship and comfort, and nights spent together had melted away in an instant. The rage dissipated, and you were surprisingly calm again, though that worried you, too. Surely you should be crying, or at the very least upset. You should be feeling some kind of emotion that wasn't a vague disgust at the man in front of you in full pooh bear mode, trying to tug down the hem of his shirt to cover the crown jewels. 

“It didn't mean anything. She doesn't mean anything. She's just - You're gone so long on cases, and I just-” 

“So you're saying it's my fault you're cheating on me?” 

“Yes! No, wait, no, no, no, no-” 

“No, heard loud and clear, I'll try not to save lives in the future, I'm sure the BAU will understand I should be on my back 24 hours a day instead, taking all four inches you have to donate to my worthy cause.” 

“Y/N, don't be like that,” he said, exasperated. Whatever he had to be exasperated about, you had no idea. Maybe blue balls. 

“Like what?”

“Like a bitch!” 

The room went still with silence as you let him sit with the words he'd just spoken, willing him to snap back quickly so you could keep even just a shred of respect for him. 

No such apology came. 

“I'm leaving now. I expect your things packed and out of here by 12 pm tomorrow, including your thing in the bedroom. Don't bother cleaning the sheets. Just burn them. Lock the door and post the keys through the letterbox when you're done.” 

“Y/N, I told you it's not like that, I still love you, come on-” 

“Well I don't love you. And please go put some fucking pants on.” 

You stepped back over the threshold of your apartment - the lovely, nice apartment you'd been living in for the last eight years, your nice safe space - and you shuddered. 

The question wasn't exactly what next, but more like where next. What next was sending a group text in your ex-boyfriends family chat telling them what you'd walked in on, and then leaving the chat before you could get any response. The where would be a harder sell. 

From this part of the city, it'd take 2 hours to get to Penelope’s apartment, especially at this time of night without a car. Emily's apartment was similarly far. Going through a list of your coworkers again, you mentally crossed off Tara, who'd been injured on your last case and was resting at her girlfriend's apartment, Luke, who despite the promised comfort of a cute dog, you were absolutely sure didn't have a spare bed, and all members of the team with spouses and/or children. Which left just Spencer and Rossi. 

Needless to say, you found your way to Spencer's apartment in only 20 minutes, though you were sure you had disassociated the entire thing. 

Knocking on the door, you felt a little bit awkward, but not awkward enough to leave and find a hotel at nearly 11 pm. Your last case hadn't been a pleasant one, hotel-wise, and you weren't exactly eager for another check-in.

Spencer opened the door quickly, his eyebrows knitted in confusion as he found you there  but only for a brief flash before his face brightened up. 

“Y/N? Do we have a case again? I thought Hotch said-” 

“Can I stay here tonight?” you blurted, needing to get the words out as quickly as possible before you convinced yourself to walk away. 

Spencer took a moment to take in your words, and you took the opportunity to look at him then. He was fully clothed at least, and you were glad to find that his pajamas looked comfortable and clean. A simple plaid cotton pant with a soft-looking white long sleeved shirt pushed up his arms slightly. He'd taken out his contacts and put on his glasses, and you wondered if you'd caught him mid-book. 

“Please?” you added in a hopeful voice as he still looked at you slightly confused. 

“Oh, of course,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing inside. “Is there something wrong with your apartment?” he asked, taking your go-bag from you without question and guiding you into the main living space of his apartment. 

“Thank you, yeah. Something like that. Shoes off or on?” 

“I have some slippers. You can take them off. What happened?” he said, placing the slippers in front of you and turning back to bolt the door. 

“Invasive species?” You said, trying to sound as nonplussed as possible  despite now feeling incredibly plussed.

“Oh, bugs? Yeah, I've had a cockroach or two in the apartment before. Did you know that the average female cockroach can produce up to 10,000 offspring in a single year?” 

You sat on his couch quietly, trying not to imagine 10,000 cockroaches and failing nearly spectacularly. Unfortunately, the only image that could surpass tiny cockroach babies was of your boyfriend pounding away at another woman. Which was just a brilliant move for your psyche. 

“Spencer, I know I've really intruded here tonight, but do…. Do you wanna drink with me?” You asked, hoping to drown at least a memory or two of the last 24 hours. Hopefully, the cheating one, but you'd take cockroach extermination as well.

A slightly worried look settled on Spencer's face, but he said nothing and nodded, walking to his kitchen, grabbing two beers and meeting you back on his loveseat. 

“Oh you really have beer here!” You exclaimed, thanking him for the beverage before cracking it open and taking a sip. 

“Morgan came over with some to celebrate 6 months out of prison. These are leftovers.” 

“Right… right…” 

The first few sips were so painfully awkward that you thought about returning back to your apartment and just sleeping on your own couch. 

Vaguely, you felt Spencer watching you, taking a sip of his drink for every sip you took of yours. 

“So…” you said, and he raised an inquisitive eyebrow again, already questioning whatever was about to come out of your mouth. 

“So?”  he asked. You weren't sure if it was the beer, the look on his face, or the crazy implosion of the last 5 years that had you giggling all of a sudden. You were just glad that when you cracked up, he cracked a smile as well, and a little bit of the tension went away. 

“Why are you really here, YN?” 

You took a deep breath and looked straight forward at the bookshelves Spencer had lovingly filled. Maybe this had taken him half a decade as well, so he'd understand how your life felt a little bit like a wobbly bookshelf at that second. 

“The invasive species I mentioned? It was the woman screwing my boyfriend in my bed. Ex. Ex-boyfriend.” 

You heard the intake of breath from Spencer before he put his can down and started thinking of something to say in reply to that. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh… Y/N, I-” 

A shrill ringing cut him off, and you were almost glad to not be on the receiving end of whatever pitiful words he was about to push on you, until you checked the caller ID and saw your ex's name. 

“Don't pick that up,” Spencer said as you hesitated towards the phone. With a hand over yours, he flipped the phone over, locking eyes with you as he let it ring out. 

“He's just going to try it again.”

“Let him.” 

You nodded, breaking eye contact and sinking back into Spencer's slightly wilted couch cushions. 

“In your bed? Really?” he asked, talking another sup as you took a gulp, letting the beer fizz down your throat before you could answer.

“I told him to expect me tomorrow because of how the case was looking. I guess he wasn't expecting me.” 

“I think that was a given. Unless he was into that. Exhibitionism is one of the most common kinks among adult males, and-” 

“Oh he was not into exposing himself,” you laughed into your drink, propping your head up on your hand and turning to face Spencer more. He shot another questioning glance but didn't push the issue, so you silently explained as well. By pinching your fingers together to the approximate size of your ex-boyfriend's dick. 

“Oh. Well, it's not the size that counts?” He whispered almost ironically as he took another sip, now much closer than before. You'd done your best to distance yourself from your boyfriend even as he'd followed you through your apartment half naked, but you didn't seem to find Spencer's proximity threatening at all. 

Maybe because he wasn't having sex with a random woman in your bed 5 seconds before. 

“You wanna know the worst part?” You said, leaning closer as if to tell him an even bigger secret. “He didn't even know how to use it. I haven't-” 

Another phone call blasted through, and you grabbed your phone and put it behind you. 

“He's really great at interrupting conversation when it’s just getting good,” Spencer laughed, but you were slightly disappointed that he'd leaned back away now. 

“What was it you were saying?” He asked, taking a swig of beer again, can nearing its close. 

“I haven't had an orgasm in almost three years,” you said bluntly, watching the most genuine spit take you’d seen in your life. You pat Spencer's back as he coughed up inhaled beer, bringing your feet up under you into a cosier position. 

“Okay now?” you asked as his breathing returned to normal. 

“No? Three years, Y/N? Really?” 

You shrugged and looked away  almost embarrassed to be meeting his eyes now that your sexual history was the topic of the night. 

“We had sex. He's just… he's just a really lazy lover. It'd be the same stuff every time. Handjob to some clumsy fingers missing my clit, a few pumps and cum on my face. I wasn't exactly initiating seven days a week in the hopes that this time he'd be able to locate it.” 

Spencer was somewhere between horror and trying not to laugh, eyes wide with either alarm or the strain of having to keep it in. 

“It's okay, you can laugh,” you said, but he shook his head politely.

“Y/N, I was in prison and still had more orgasms than you this year.” 

“Hey, I hear prison is a great place to meet new people. Have new experiences.”

Spencer shot you a quickly horrified look as his cheeks flushed with heat. “Y/N, I was not someone's bitch in prison.” 

“Why not? You're pretty enough for it?” 

You'd meant the line to come across as teasing, just as you'd expected the finger now twisted in a lock of his hair, playing with him, to come off as teasing as well. 

But you felt a definite throb between your legs when he looked at you again, doubly so when his eyes darted down to your lips. 

You cleared your throat and tried for a teasing tone once again. 

“So you made someone else your bitch?” you smiled, trying to drag his eyes away from your lips before you did something you'd regret. 

“No. I… I spent a long time in solitary, and there's… there's really not that much to do.” 

“So you did yourself?” 

The tips of his ears were scarlet when you finally decided to back off, tucking the curl of hair behind his ear and letting him cool off. 

“Why didn't you masturbate then?” he asked, pouting slightly still from your interrogation. 

“Excuse me?”

“Your boyfriend couldn't make you cum, but a vibrator probably could. But you still haven't had an orgasm in three years. Why is that?” 

It was your turn to feel the heat, the warmth from the beer finally reaching your head. 

“He didn't want me to.” 

You didn't mean for the words to sound as sad as they did. The fact itself was just incredibly sad. Your boyfriend saw anything vaguely phallic shaped as competition and had encouraged “organic” coupling instead. 

You waited for Spencer to say something else, anything else as you held his gaze, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and him to start talking down to you as if you were simply a victim of the worst sex in the world. 

Instead, he said “so did that other woman look as miserable as you've been for the last three years?” and the spell was broken. 

You laughed so hard, you nearly choked on the beer you'd already finished. This time, it was Spencer's turn to land a hand on your back as you winded yourself with laughter. 

“She looked bored! She looked genuinely bored. I almost thought it was just a lifelike doll, she was that unphased,” you kept giggling between gasps, forcing the words out as you threw your head onto Spencer's shoulder, hand landing on his thigh as you finally calmed down. 

“I'd be horrified if anyone looked bored while in bed with me,” came Spencer's voice, and a little shiver ran down your spine as the rasp of his whisper rang in your ear. 

You looked up from his shoulder and caught his eye immediately. If you wanted to, you could lean up by a centimetre and catch his lips with yours. And you suddenly, very much wanted to do that. 

A final shriek of your phone behind you deterred you for a few seconds, and you were about to work yourself up to scooting a little bit away from Spencer when he leaned over you, grabbed the phone, and hung up on your boyfriend. 

“Do you want to cum, Y/N?” he asked, as quietly as before as his hands traced over you on their return journey to him. He looked down your body, eyes greedily drinking in your breasts, hips, thighs and legs tucked into his side on his couch. 

You didn't know what you were going to respond when your head practically nodded by itself. Enthusiastically. 

He doesn't immediately pull you in for a kiss, and you're worried for a beat that he meant that only as a hypothetical and not an invite. A final cry from your phone has you standing in seconds, completely detached from Spencer, and the nearly embarrassing moment you pouncing him would've been.

“I should probably take it this time,” you explained, turning slightly. 

But Spencer was faster than you, if not more prepared for what was to come. Wrapping an arm around your waist, Spencer tugged you back, pulling you onto his lap. When you were firmly situated - ass over his now evidently firm cock - he grabbed the phone out of your other hand, hung up and put it in his pocket. 

“Spencer, I-I don't think that's a good idea,” you gasped as his hands slowly progressed up to your chest, and his lips dropped to your neck, biting and sucking along whatever flesh was easy for him to access. 

“You need to cum. You deserve to cum, Y/N. I'm just here to help. Use me.” 

You stifle a sharp, quick moan, biting your lips and thanking God that he couldn't see the face you made when his hips ground his cock up into your ass. 

“I'm probably not ready for this,” you stuttered slightly, breath departing your body quicker than it could arrive. 

“Probably not.”

“We work together, too. It would be awkward.”

“It might,” he nodded. “But you still want to.” 

You couldn't help the moan, finally letting it free as you tossed your head back and clawed at his forearm, wrapped around you. 

Your ass had a mind of its own, grinding back into him in circles as his hands found their way under your shirt, inquisitive fingers stroking your nipples through your bra. 

“S-Spencer,” you whimpered again, legs spreading apart as you felt that familiar warmth settle between them. He didn't miss the longing in your tone, the shift in your core, pushing one hand down your stomach and trailing it onto your thigh. 

It was as close as he could get with your pants still on, tight against your skin. He squeezed your thigh,  still licking and sucking at your neck before his hand rose to the clasp of your pants. 

It took him a long lime to fumble with them, and you thought of helping multiple times but you let yourself get distracted by the tense definition of his muscles, the rigid line of his body as he strained to please you. 

Your mind fogged with lust, and you felt the vibrations from his pocket right under you when your phone rang again. You practically jerked up in shock as pleasure hit you in a wave, Spencer's fingers finally dipping into your panties just as the vibrations hit you. They weren't centred, of course, not anywhere close to where you needed them to be for you to enjoy them the way you would a toy, but that's what Spencer was for. 

He let the call ring out, tracing small, slow circles over your clit as you jumped up into his hand, moaning and whimpering the entire time. 

“What an idiot. I bet he never touched you like this. Nice and slow.”

“N-no, S-s-” 

“I'm so glad I'm right. He didn't deserve this beautiful cunt. You're so wet for me, right, baby?” You nodded and he hummed in response, voice low and making you pulse in his lap. 

“That's it, good girl,” he whispered as you worked your cunt up and down his fingers, stilling himself so you could find your own pleasure. 

“Spencer… Spencer, fuck-” 

With his free hand, he turned your face to the side and finally kissed you properly as you moaned into his mouth. He was quick to deepen the kiss, to press his tongue against the seam of your mouth and enter your mouth, quickly dominating you as you let yourself get more and more excited. Your hips stuttered, out of rhythm and out of practice, and you almost whimpered in frustration that you couldn't get off quicker, that your body wasn't finding the orgasm quick enough despite how good, how perfect this felt.

Sensing your growing frustration, Spencer broke the kiss. 

“Come with me,” he said, pulling his hands away from your wet cunt and out of your stupid pants and encouraging your hips up until you were stood and he was stood behind you. 

Cock still firmly stood against your ass, he walked you all the way to his bedroom, hands on your hips the entire time, memorising the sway of your walk. 

“Strip and get on the bed, please, Y/N,” he said, finally peeling himself away from you as you nodded quickly and listened to him immediately. You weren't sure what to expect, so you hesitated, laying down, crawling up until your head hit the pillows. You were almost disappointed when you finally looked back at Spencer and he was still fully clothed, so sure that he was going to fuck you to your climax. 

Instead, he approached the bed, gently slid his arms around your thighs, opened your legs wider, knelt on the floor and brought your cunt to his face. 

The first touch of his to guess to your clit had you almost beside yourself with lust. You'd been sexually active for a handful of years, and this - THIS - was the first time you'd experienced such acute pleasure. 

Your hips were unable to stop, thrusting up into his face as you willed his tongue to engulf you, to be a tool in your pleasure. 

Again your phone rang, but he grabbed it quickly, pausing only a second to silence it and discard it on the bed beside you, sitting it further up the bed where it would no longer be a distraction to him. 

He dove right back in, and you rewarded him with wave after wave of fierce moan, your writhing body only restricted by a hand snaked up onto his stomach. You still pushed against his face, practically fucking it as he flattened out his to guess and let you chase your high. 

“Spencer!” You gasped and moaned, voice dripping with lust and desperation, mouth not even properly forming words now you were so close. 

You propped yourself up slightly, looking down as Spencer's eye caught your own, his chin slick with your juices, his eyes dripping with lust. You grabbed a handful of his hair and jumped that little bit faster as you felt that long forgotten whisper of pleasure, that all-encompassing explosion of satisfaction, and you came apart on Spencer's tongue. 

“Thank you, thank you, Spencer, shit, thank you,” you whimpered, falling back again into the bed as you rode out the high. When you managed to open your bleary eyes again, Spencer was propped up above you, but instead of paying you attention, he'd grabbed your phone and bought it to his ear. 

“You heard that? Good. I'm sure you're aware now that she won't be returning your calls tonight. Goodbye.” 

His voice, his words, were like a cold bucket of water to your brain as you sat up, reaching for him and finding him as his hips circled your waist. 

“Was that-?” He cut you off with a kiss  a sweet, soft one. 

“Yes.” He kissed you again  and you melted into his touch as he pulled you into his lap again. 

“H-He-” 

“He knows now what a real orgasm sounds like. He knows you're not interested anymore. He knows you're mine now.” 

You shivered at the words, your lust addled brain flooding your senses, and your cunt as you reacted to the possessiveness of his words, his tone. Part of you was turned on by the exhibitionism as well. You'd had to walk in on your ex boyfriend completely exposed, and there was satisfaction in kicking him to the curb with a similar fuck you. A fuck you that you'd enjoyed a lot. 

You pressed your lips against Spencer's and rocked your hips against him again, tasting yourself on his tongue as he laid you down once more. His cock twitched against your leg as he propped you up on the pillows, and your hands trailed down to show it some attention as your sighed into his kiss.

He eagerly shed his clothes, first his top, sitting up and pulling it over his head, giving you a deliriously enticing shot of his chest and soft stomach before dropping down to cover your body again. You let your hand find the sprinkling of hair on his lower stomach, though, following it down as you encouraged his pants off. His cock was thick and heavy in your hand, and you gladly stroked it as he kissed the plains of your body again. He found the side of your neck that he'd neglected earlier, licking and sucking until it was almost as loved as the first side, before pulling your hand away from his cock. 

You pouted and began to protest when he quickly lined his cock up with your cunt, and slid in deep and soft before you could. 

“Needed to be in you,” he whispered in your ear, gripping your hips and sliding your legs up and around him as he pushed that little bit deeper. “Keep them nice and wide for me,” he said, dropping one last kiss to your lips, before his chest rose, and his hips pulled away again. 

When they snapped back into you, you let out a generous scream of pleasure that almost had you wishing you'd never hung up. He set a quick pace, a furious pace as he too moaned into the contact of your cunt and his cock, two desperate people searching for release. 

“So tight, Y/N, you're so tight,” he moaned, flesh hitting flesh as you dug your nails into his arms, already so wet again, you could feel the sheets under you growing damp. His hand left its perch on your hip and found its way to your clit once again, and you knew that you weren't going to be able to keep to this pace without cumming a second time. 

“Keep moaning for me baby, show me how much you want it,” his voice begged, almost a rumble with how lustful he sounded. You let your voice carry, each moan a little bit more unrestricted than the last. 

“Louder, Y/N, please. I want to hear how much you're enjoying this, you don't know how much I enjoy hearing your pleasure.”

His prayers were answered when he lowered his head back down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, gently grazing it with his teeth between licks and sucks. You practically screamed his name, pressing your chest up to grant him better access. 

You liquefied beneath him, pressure building and building until you felt him rock, lifting his chest as you came. He pulled his cock out, teasing it through your folds as you stuttered around him, your arousal squirting across his cock and sheets as you fell back to the bed, gasping in pleasure. Your hips stuttered against him, and he soothed you gently, still working his cock through your folds gently as your clit went from overwhelmed to calm to quickly overstimulated. 

“Spencer,” you whimpered, almost unable to take all the pleasure he was offering you. “Spencer, it-it hurts.” 

“Don't you want me to stop?” He asked, stopping his movements for a second as you deliberated your answer. The lack of movement was answer alone, and you shook your head no wanting to feel his cock against you, inside you, one more time. 

“Louder, Y/N, tell me what you want.” 

“I want to keep going,” you said, as he began slowly rocking his cock against you again, sticky from your cum. 

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, teasing a nipple with his hand as your eyes fluttered shut. 

“Please fill me up again, please I want to cum again.” 

“One more time?” He asked.

“Mhmmm… one more… one more, please.” 

You were cum drunk, so horny that you couldn't fathom stopping there. He pressed another kiss to your lips and encouraged you to flip over, propping a pillow under your stomach as he pulled your legs into the right position. 

You snuggled into the pillows at your head, pushing your ass up for him slightly as he nudged his cock against your entrance once more. 

“Where should I cum  Y/N?” He asked, reaching under you to slowly circle your clit again. 

“H-hmmm…” you said, eyes shut, focused more on the pleasure than the question. You didn't care anymore. You didn't care where he came, just as long as he let you do it, too. 

“Y/N, I expect an answer. Where should I put my cum?” 

“Anywhere,” you pouted, pressing your hips back into his cock in the hopes that he'd just fuck you again already. 

“That's not an answer,” he said, gently slapping your ass as he pulled his cock away. 

“On your back?” He asked, fingers still working your clit underneath, but trailing lower until they found your cunt, two entering you to keep you wet and stretched for him. 

“You'd need to shower before you could pass out, but I'm happy to help clean you off. They have communal showers in prison, so I'm not shy.” You moaned at the suggestion but couldn't answer further. 

“On your stomach? Again we'd have to shower off, but I would love to see your boobs decorated all nicely.” Your moans were whimpers now as he edged you with his fingers, his words gentle in your ear but dripping with so much lust and promise you couldn't stand it. You didn't want to make decisions anymore. 

“On your face?”

“Not on my face,” you snapped quickly, and he nodded and stroked your hair, hooking a strand behind your ear as he agreed. 

“Okay. Where, Y/N? Be a good girl and tell me.”

“I-Inside. Cum inside me. Please.” 

“Of course. Good job.”

He pulled his hand free gently, and quickly replaced it with his thick cock, and you moaned again at the weight of it against your walls, the familiar stretch of it. In this position, he reached deeper somehow, his thrusts slower, more precise as he drew out his own orgasm as long as possible, maximising his ability to pleasure you. 

“Good girl,” he muttered against your skin, dropping a kiss to your back. “Good girl.” 

“Wanted to do this for so long, Y/N,” he confessed with each thrust. “Look at how pretty this pussy is, how wet it is for me. I wish your boyfriend could see it. I wish he could see how well-behaved you are for me. How nicely you take my cock.” 

His deep, slow strokes, his words, the kisses he pressed against any inch of your skin he could reach combined to push you over the edge a third and final time. This one wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. It was a steady shudder of pleasure from your hips and a quiet, satisfied sigh. 

You didn't say anything  but Spencer knew, he felt it, and he came moments after, cock deep inside as he filled you with his cum. 

“You're on birth control, right?” 

“IUD. Pill. Yeah.” You say between breathy sighs of contentment.

Muttering something behind you, he pulled out finally, leaving for a minute to grab a washcloth and clean himself off before returning to help you as well. 

“What did you mumble?” You asked, as he crawled back into your arms, looking up at him. 

“What?” He asked, ears turning slightly pink as you stared at him intently. 

“Just now. I told you I was on birth control, and you mumbled something.” 

He looked away, refusing to meet your gaze before dropping to kiss you sweetly once again. 

“Tell me,” you said, and he kissed you again. 

“Spencer, tell me,” you pouted, and he kissed the pout away. 

You almost asked again, but he kissed you too quickly, too deeply  and you lost your breath again. 

“I said,” he started, leaving you panting under him again. “It was good you're on birth control, because I like the sight of my cum dripping out of you.” 

The remaining breath left your body as you gasped, your face growing hot. You burrowed your face in his chest and let him hold you as you drifted into sleep, wrapped up in each other.