#i counted just now. i drew him 18 times before i was satisfied

[ihavesomejays]

B-SIDE U

again so sorry for delay because i was savoring summer break and was out of commission for two weeks. i'm gonna do two more shirt designs and i already know which two characters are gonna be on them, sorry folks.

final note i'm still figuring out how i'm going to sell these (kickstarter maybe?, bigcartel, etc. idk) but know that the shirts will be in the 20-30 dollar range, probably closer to 30 after shipping is added. planning on printing on 100% heavy cotton t-shirts. will let you guys know when things are finalized!

as always, would appreciate a share! tuition is Expensive(tm)

[bellaxgiornata]

You Promised

Pairing: husband!Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings/tags: 18+; shower smut, oral m!receiving, that damn crucifix necklace, and a little bit of choking

Summary: Matt is a giver, he always has been. He's also terrible when it comes to asking for what he wants–but that changes tonight.

a/n: I was inspired by the Born Again trailer shower scene, like everyone else, but I tried to resist writing anything with all the smut already coming out. But after poor Matt was pleasuring everyone else in showers all week, I figured he needed his turn in the shower. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Hot steam filled the air around you, fogging up the glass of the shower door. Only half of you remained beneath the spray of the showerhead as warm, wet droplets trailed down your back in rivulets. A chill seeped into you from the inside out at the contrast of Matt's damp and slightly cool body pressed to the front of yours.

Matt was usually always so deliciously warm, but the difference in temperature between him and the water cascading down the back of you had long since caused your nipples to stiffen. With your breasts currently crushed against his firm chest, you knew that sensation alone was driving him wild because you knew how much he enjoyed toying with your nipples–with either his mouth or his fingers. But tonight you were aiming to do more than just drive him wild; you wanted him to fall apart. You wanted him to stand there with his back against the tiled wall of the shower while he let you take care of him. You wanted to hear him crying out in ecstasy like he always made you, and you wanted him to be the one to vocalize what he wanted for once–what he needed.

Because after all, he'd promised you that tonight.

Mouth attached to his neck, you sensually sucked at the skin just below his jaw. It was a spot that you knew from past experience always had an effect on him, which was proven when he loosed a soft whimper just above your ear. The noise drew your lips into a smile against him, releasing the skin from your mouth before shifting over towards the chain of his crucifix. You nipped at the sensitive skin above it with your teeth, satisfied when his head finally dropped back against the shower wall behind him with a groan, giving you further access to his neck. Your tongue slid out between your lips, the tip of it dragging along him, teasing him as you tasted the bit of salty sweat still lingering on his skin from his night out in the suit.

As your mouth paid careful attention to his neck, your left hand continued to attentively roam his body. It traveled up through the hair along his forearm, the tips of your nails catching the fine, dark hairs beneath them before dragging their way past his bicep and towards his toned chest still slick from the shower's spray. But your right hand remained busy brushing across the dampened and sensitive skin just above his cock, right at the start of where his thick, dark pubic hair formed. You'd been intentionally making slow passes from left to right and back again with your flattened palm for a few minutes now, your mouth trailing slow, tender kisses that followed the length of the gold chain as you took your time. 

Matt's cock had long since stirred awake beneath your attention. It had been noticeably pressing harder and harder into your thigh, begging you not to be ignored. But that's exactly what you were doing right now. Because Matt was supposed to be telling you what he wanted tonight–learning to say what he needed instead of always giving and giving. You wanted him to learn that he could also take.

This was about him.

“Sweetheart,” Matt whispered. “Please?”

Nuzzling your face into his neck, you brushed your nose back and forth along his pulse point. You weren't going to make this easy for him because he needed to learn to use his words and  verbalize what he wanted. You wanted to hear him say it for once; he needed to learn once and for all that he was allowed to want things too.

Matt's hands which had been settled along your hips suddenly gripped the damp flesh when the tip of your nose bumped into his jaw, his hands yanking you somehow closer to him. A shudder ran up your spine in response, goosebumps dotting your skin as the warm water overhead continued to race down your back. His tight hold on you had felt good, reminding you of all the times he'd bent you over the back of the leather couch or the bed as he fucked you with such vigorous fervor. Wetness that had nothing to do with the shower dripped down between your thighs. 

But he wasn't supposed to be doing that to you.

“Matty,” you warned. “You promised, remember?”

“But sweetheart,” Matt protested, his voice pitching up into a whine. “I can't. I just–just need to taste you. Let me taste you, please, angel?”

You withdrew your face from his neck, your right hand pausing its movement above the patch of his damp pubic hair and instead resting along his skin. “What you need to do is let me take care of you, Matt,” you reminded him. “This isn't about me. You're supposed to be telling me what you want tonight.”

A defeated groan flew from his lips, his head once more falling back against the tiled wall behind himself as he loosened his grip on your hips, his blunt nails no longer deliciously biting into your skin. You felt an uncontrollable heat stir inside of you at the sight of him before you now, though. His eyes were closed, his bearded jaw tensed as he clearly fought his own urge to push you back into the tile instead. You had no doubt he was struggling with the increasing scent of your arousal filling the shower. You knew the effect it always had on him. But you didn't want him between your thighs like that, not tonight. 

“That's it, Matty,” you praised, enjoying the way the corners of his lips twitched. “That's my good Devil.”

You leaned back in towards his neck, placing a soft kiss just below his jaw. You felt a shudder race through him, a faint whimper slipping out between his lips. 

“Now tell me–” you whispered into his skin, moving your mouth lower to place a gentle kiss at the base of his throat, “–what you want.”

Your mouth moved lower, taking the gold crucifix between your teeth and giving it a light tug along his neck. Glancing up, the gold cross still between your teeth, you were pleased to see his eyes had tightened further shut. He was going to cave soon, you could feel it in the way his muscles had tensed against the front of your body. Your right hand dipped a bit lower, the tips of your fingers brushing lightly past the base of his cock.

“Touch me,” he begged, finally breaking. “I need you to touch me, sweetheart. Please.”

Dropping the crucifix from your teeth, it fell back onto his chest just as your right hand gripped the girth of him. A satisfied smile spread across your lips as you gazed back at Matt. His eyes had opened, their focus somewhere just past your shoulder as a flush crept into his cheeks. Your hand began to stroke him, thumb intentionally circling the tip of him when you’d reached it.

“This good, Matty?” you whispered. 

“A little faster,” he replied, voice tight. 

Following his instruction, your hand quickened its pace, your thumb occasionally pausing to circle the sensitive spot along his head. It wasn’t long before a deep rumble vibrated straight from his chest and right into yours. You felt your cunt pathetically squeeze around air, a thrill shooting through you. Matt’s bottom lip immediately caught between his teeth as he attempted to stifle a soft cry that still managed to escape his mouth. You knew he'd heard that and you knew he was struggling to refrain from slipping his fingers inside of you in return. Instead, his hands had once more increased their pressure against your hips, the heat of them hard to ignore as they nearly burned your skin.

“What else do you want, Matthew?” you questioned.

Your hand continued to stroke his cock as you waited for his reply. With every few pumps of your fist around him, you caught the way his hips would occasionally jolt forward into you. A pleased hum sounded in your throat. This was getting closer to what you'd wanted to see. 

“Kiss me,” he ordered. 

Without wasting a second, your other hand left its place along his chest and grabbed him by the chin. You tugged him towards yourself, connecting your lips to his in a heated passion. The beard he’d recently grown and you’d quickly come to love pleasantly scratched against you as your mouths moved in sync, the feeling beginning to drive you a little over the edge. As if he could tell, Matt’s mouth began attacking yours more earnestly, a low moan sliding into your mouth when your tongue slid into his.  

The kiss quickly grew into something desperate, growing need causing Matt to begin roughly biting at your lips with his teeth. Taking cues from the way he’d begun rutting forward into your hand, you increased the pace with which you continued to work him over. But when your thumb swiped across the sensitive tip of his cock this time, Matt broke away from your lips and another deep moan barrelled straight out of his chest, echoing around the tiles of the shower.

“Ah–fuck ,” Matt ground out between his teeth. “Need more.”

Breathing hard, your eyes met his darkened ones. His chest was heaving against yours, his own breath coming in sharp pants now. His gaze was fixed around your chin, a fierce look of desire burning inside of them. You relished the sight of it because this was a Matt you had not often seen before.

“Tell me what you need,” you whispered. “Go on.”

“Mouth,” he nearly growled out. “Your mouth.”

“Like this?” you asked, feigning innocence. 

You leaned down towards his collarbone, dragging the flat of your tongue across the length of it as your right hand finally came to a stop. Looking up at him from beneath your lashes, you watched as his eyelids fluttered, a muscle tensing in his cheek. 

“Or like this?” you breathed out.

Trailing a few open-mouthed kisses just a bit further down, you paused to clamp your teeth onto part of his chest, right beside his nipple. A hiss of pleasure shot out between Matt’s teeth in response and you grinned at the sound.

“Is that what you meant, Matt?” you asked coyly.

You watched as his throat bobbed with a hard swallow, his head shaking once.

“No,” he ground out.

“Then Matty–” your tongue delicately swiped at his hardened nipple, your pleased smile growing when he squirmed against you, “–say it.”

“Sweetheart,” he whined in protest. “Don’t you want me to get you off? Wouldn’t–wouldn’t you enjoy that?”

“Oh, I’m enjoying this plenty,” you assured him. 

His eyes snapped shut when your lips sucked his nipple into your mouth next, your tongue swirling around the peak. You could feel his cock throbbing in your right hand where it had remained motionless, waiting for him to finally say what you knew he wanted. For a minute he remained silent instead, continuing to squirm against the shower wall as you lapped at his nipple. Eventually a string of curses passed his lips in a rush the moment your teeth raked over him.

“I want your mouth on my cock,” he growled out, his voice bordering on the Devil’s deep snarl. “I want you swallowing my cum.”

Releasing his nipple from your mouth, you shot him a satisfied smile as you gradually began to lower to your knees before him in the shower. Dragging the nails of your left hand down his torso as you went, you delighted in the way his abdominal muscles twitched at your touch.

“There you go, Matty,” you purred. “There’s my big bad Devil.”

Sitting on your knees, you were finally face to face with Matt’s erect cock. Hands running up and down his thick thighs, you licked your lips in anticipation as you admired the sight before you. He rarely ever let you suck his cock because he was always too busy fucking you with it if his mouth wasn’t damn near glued to your cunt. But now it was all yours to enjoy, and you were going to revel in every sound that passed his beautiful lips as you did.

Right hand gripping the base of him, you leaned forward and lightly circled your tongue around the tip. Above you, Matt emitted a throaty groan, the sound raising the small hairs on the back of your neck. Refraining from lunging forward and taking him all at once, you licked up the length of him painfully slow with the flat of your tongue, wondering just how good that had felt with his senses when his head slammed back into the shower wall with a soft thump as he inhaled sharply between his teeth.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he panted out. “Don’t stop.”

As you continued to lightly lick up the length of him, Matt’s breathing began to fill the shower as it came in sharper and faster. The sound was unexpectedly building the heat between your legs, your left hand unable to resist slipping between your thighs. Eyes slowly closing, two of your own fingers began circling your clit, your back arching at the jolt of pleasure that raced up your spine. No longer able to resist, you took him into your mouth, a soft moan vibrating around his cock.

You felt something brush gently against your cheek and your eyelids fluttered back open. Once more looking up from beneath your lashes, you saw Matt’s head had tilted forward along the tiled wall. He was staring down at you with hooded eyes and a crease between his dark brows as his hand tenderly stroked your cheek while you sucked his cock.

“Are you–touching–yourself?” he asked between heavy breaths. 

Unable to respond verbally, you hummed in answer. A sharp whine fell out of Matt next, your fingers increasing their pressure against yourself as you observed his reaction. Focusing your attention on the head of his cock, you felt Matt’s hand slide its way down your cheek and past your jaw until it encircled your neck. He squeezed with just enough pressure for you to feel it, a resounding growl filling the steamy shower as he did.

“Put two fingers inside of yourself,” he suddenly ordered. “Now.”

A ripple of satisfaction flooded you. Obeying his command, you slid your fingers between your damp folds before slipping them inside of yourself.

“I want to hear you–” he broke on a moan, his head once more falling back against the shower wall. “Want to hear you fuck yourself with them.”

Kneeling on the floor at Matt’s feet, you continued to suck his cock with a renewed enthusiasm while your fingers began to pump in and out of yourself, the wet sound loud even to your own ears. You could tell Matt was getting close now by the way his thighs had begun to shake and how frequently you’d started hearing his broken whines above you. The walls of your cunt tightened around your fingers at that knowledge, another one of your moans vibrating around his cock.

“Ahh–” he hissed out. “Can almost taste you from here.”

“Mmm,” you hummed in answer, aware how much he always enjoyed the vibration.

“Shitshitshit,” Matt breathed out in an unbroken string immediately. “That’s it sweetheart, just like that. I'm–almost there.”

You continued to pump your fingers faster into yourself, your own legs trembling along the floor of the shower. Matt's hips began to visibly fight the urge to rock forward into you, causing you to take him further into your mouth with a pleased hum. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Matt groaned, his voice breaking on each word. “Just–like– that!”

On the final word, you felt Matt’s warm release flood your mouth. Not remotely letting up as a high-pitched, drawn out cry flew out of him, his hand still gripping your neck, you worked him through the rest of his climax. Greedily you swallowed down every salty bit of him like you’d been starved for the taste. You weren’t sure when he’d allow you the pleasure of this again, and that thought had you soon cumming on your own fingers, one last pleasured moan vibrating along him as he filled your mouth.

When both of you were finally spent, a haze of contentment washed over you along with the warm shower spray. Slipping your fingers out from inside yourself, you released his cock from your mouth with a soft, wet noise. Licking your lips, your attention returned to Matt’s face above you, and you were delighted to find a blissful, pacified smile drawn over his own lips.

“So, was that worth keeping your promise?” you asked him.

“Mmm,” he hummed back, nodding his head sluggishly. “Mhmm. Maybe I should promise that more often.”

“You absolutely should,” you agreed.

Slowly rising back up to your feet, you felt satisfied to see the way he was leaning back against the wall behind himself–as if he needed it to help hold himself upright. After his night out as Daredevil and that explosive release he'd just had, you figured he probably did.

“But I think now,” you continued, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him away from the wall and into your arms, “you’ve earned your shower and some sleep. What do you think?”

Matt’s arms encircled your waist in return, his forehead coming to rest lightly against yours as the pair of you both now stood beneath the showerhead. He bumped his nose affectionately against yours, his tired smile growing further.

“I think that sounds like a great idea, Mrs. Murdock,” he whispered.

Matt Murdock One Shot/Shorts Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @sleepysleepymom @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @ethereal-blaze @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia @a-half-empty-g1rl

[zepskies]

Green

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader, Ben and daughter!OC

Summary: Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.

AN: Another one-shot for the BMD-verse, set sometime after "Until Morning" (you'll see). This can be read as standalone as well!

Word Count: 2,500 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Father and daughter fluff, followed by husband and wife spice.~

Read more of the BMD-verse! ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Father and daughter were glaring at one another, gazes locked.

Green against green.

“Young lady, I’m telling you right now. I’m not gonna tolerate any more of your little attitude,” said Ben. “If you want to try me, be my guest.”

He held the ravioli poised on a pink plastic spoon. His daughter Lila sat in her highchair in the kitchen, boldly refusing any more of her lunch.

Her stubborn face reminded him entirely too much of you. But he needed her to eat. He wouldn’t have it said when you came home that he couldn’t feed a damn two-year-old.

He huffed. “Work with me here. Just a couple more bites.”

Lila made a shrill sound of refusal when the spoon came near her face. He knew she could use a spoon just fine. She was being difficult on purpose.

To demonstrate her resolve, she slapped at the ravioli with a chubby little hand, and it ended up splashing back into the bowl. A bit of red sauce splattered onto Ben’s cheek, with a pinch of it hitting his eye.

He blinked in annoyance. “Delilah Marie, I swear to Christ—”

She’s just a baby, a voice that sounded a lot like you infiltrated his mind. It still didn’t take away his aggravation.

“No!” Lila insisted. It was her favorite word, right behind Bluey.

She then pushed the bowl right off the highchair. It spilled ravioli and pasta sauce all over the floor in spectacular fashion. Ben was sitting in his own chair by the dining table, where he moved his feet back at the last moment. She almost got his Italian loafers.

“You gotta be f…” It took every scrap of patience within him to hold his tongue…and breathe calmly through his nose. He didn’t want to reward this destructive, disrespectful behavior, but he also knew that he needed his daughter to eat.

“Want some applesauce?” he said, as a peace offering.

Lila’s face scrunched.

“No applesauce, huh?” Ben muttered. He glanced at the mess across the highchair and the formerly white tile on the floor. “Your mother’s gonna have a conniption.”

“Mommy?” Lila asked. “Mommy’s home?”

“No, she’s not here right now,” Ben replied. “She’ll be home later.”

Lila seemed to understand, because that’s when she got upset again. Her red-stained finger drew a shapeless form in the sauce as she pouted. At least she wasn’t crying.

Ben sighed, once again, and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

Fuck it.

“You want some ice cream?” he bribed.

Her sadness dissipated at the thought; she smiled brightly and nodded. “Yeah!”

“Yeah, I thought so,” he grumbled.

After a scoop of strawberry ice cream for each of them (she liked it because it was pink), Ben wrangled her up out of the highchair and declared, bath time.

He did fine with the bathing process. He’d helped you with this before, and so he knew what to do in order to wash the sauce off her face, hands, and even her hair. It was what came after the bath that remained a problem.

Lila was stubborn beyond belief, even before she could articulate what it was about the soft green onesie that she didn’t like. No, she wasn’t satisfied until Ben pulled out the yellow Starlight themed pajamas. Probably because they had “Auntie Annie’s” face all over them.

He rolled his eyes, but this wasn’t a hill he needed to die on. He dressed Lila and tried to tuck her into bed for her afternoon nap. The problem was, she refused to lie still in the crib.

Instead, she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, using the edge of the crib for balance. He’d be impressed, if she wasn’t trying to climb out and give him a small heart attack.

He grabbed her and gathered her against his chest. Despite the super strength you’d temporarily displayed off and on throughout your pregnancy, Lila’s powers were latent at the moment. Dr. Baker seemed to think Lila would start to display them once she got old enough. Like Ryan, who hadn’t started growing into his powers until around 10 years old.

So for now, Lila was a mostly normal two-year-old who could still get hurt.

Ben frowned. “This is the time you usually go down. Why do you have so much energy?”

She just giggled at him and put both hands on his face, over his eyes.

“Daddy, guess who?”

He sighed, but couldn’t help smiling. As usual, he indulged her.

“Could it be my baby girl?”

He waited until her hands came away from his eyes, and he opened them wide.

“There she is!”

She squealed and giggled and grabbed his hair when he kissed her cheek. In the comfort of his own home, he could afford to be this openly affectionate.

Aw shit, he thought, as something occured to him.

He finally realized why she was so fucking hyper. Maybe it had something to do with the giant scoop of ice cream she’d had for lunch.

Goddamn it. Ben sighed and unwrapped her arm from around his head.

“Okay, let’s watch some TV.”

Lila didn’t seem all that interested in watching anything, or even playing with her toys. She mainly wanted to jump on Ben’s stomach while he was trying to relax on the couch. He put on a football game you taped for him. Or recorded, as you'd said.

“All right, enough. Your old man’s trying to watch the game,” Ben said, bringing Lila down to sit in lap.

That lasted for about two seconds. Thereafter, she was climbing up his chest and trying to smother him with her little hands.

He took her hand from his nose so he could at least breathe in peace.

“Where’s Mommy?” Lila asked, as she sat on his shoulder and beat a little fist on the top of his head.

“She’s with your aunt,” Ben replied. “Well, not your real one, the fake one.”

Lila made a sound of confusion. Realizing that she didn’t know what the hell he meant, he rephrased.

“She’s with your Aunt Annie. They’ll be back soon,” he said.

He didn’t mind you wanting a day out to yourself. What he minded was the attitude you’d struck when he suggested dropping Lila off with Louisa, your actual sister.

“What, you can’t handle her alone for one day?” you’d asked.

His pride hadn’t allowed him to say no to that.

So here he was, with a wily toddler who was doing her damndest to suffocate him. Better attempts than this had failed, but it was still annoying while he was trying to watch the game.

Somehow, he managed to tune it out while he watched the ref make a bad call.

“What was that?! You gotta be kidding me!” Ben said, holding Lila to his chest even as he pointed and shouted at the TV. “Son of a bitch. What a pussy call that was.”

“Bish, bish, bish,” Lila said, making a game out of the word. It called Ben’s attention.

He forgot about the game for a moment when he looked down at her. His eyes widened a fraction, even as a smile pulled at his lips.

“What’d you just say?”

“Bishhhhhh,” Lila repeated. “Somvabishhhh.” Her lips squished like a fish. And then she giggled, like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

“Aw, fuck,” Ben uttered.

And he pressed his lips together with ever widening eyes at what he’d just said.

Lila grinned. “Fack!”

“Uhh, no. No. Don’t say that,” he said, trying to sound stern. Inside, he was trying not to laugh. He didn't really give a shit what she said, but you were particular about the kid not inheriting his vocabulary.

In fact, he was pretty sure you were going to go nuclear for this one.

“Why?” Lila asked.

“Because it’s uh…a bad word,” Ben replied, even though he wanted to roll his eyes at himself. This was what he’d become. A suburban dad.

"And it's not ladylike," he added.

“Fackkkk,” Lila giggled some more.

Christ on a cross. Ben bit the inside of lip hard to stop himself from laughing.

“Whatever. Just don’t say it around your mom,” he relented. He brushed his fingers through her soft brown hair. She preened at the attention, like the little showboat she was.

“Daddyyyy…” Lila wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled as deeply into him as she could, like a koala clinging to a shaking branch.

Ben sighed and rubbed a hand up and down her back as he cradled her against him.

These were the moments he didn’t mind. In fact, these were the moments he did his best to remember. They helped block out the older, darker ones that this kid would never know.

Ben woke to the shutter of a camera going off.

He blinked his bleary eyes open to find you standing there with a highly amused smile on your face, and your phone poised in your hand.

He groaned, but he soon realized that Lila was sleeping in his arms, on his chest. You leaned down and rested a hand on her back. You also greeted him with a kiss to his temple.

“Long day?” you teased quietly.

Ben gave you a deadpan look, one that had you straining to taper down your giggles. Though he drew you closer by your hip and squeezed the soft flesh over your white sundress. He took you in with a lazy once-over.

You looked good. Sexy as hell, really. Your face was glowing and relaxed, and he liked the shade of red you’d done on your nails.

“You have a good time?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, massaging his shoulder. Though you arched a brow. “There’s a catastrophe in the kitchen.”

Ben blinked.

Fuck. He forgot about that.

“Yep,” he said, giving you a teasing smirk of his own. “Right on time for you, baby.”

You chuckled, though your eyes narrowed in warning. “Yeah, right.”

You still helped him put Lila down in the nursery for the rest of her nap. She yawned and turned over onto her back. You pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, though you had to smile when it accidentally left the red mark of your lipstick behind.

You bit your lip and gently rubbed it off without waking her up. (An amazing damn feat, as far as you were concerned.)

Ben laid a heavy hand on your back, prompting you to straighten up and turn into his waiting embrace.

His lips curved as he looked down at you. “Hey.”

You laughed quietly. “Hey, yourself.”

Your hands glided up his chest, and further still to hold his face. You brought him down to kiss you, with your fingers slipping into his hair, and your nails dragging along his scalp. He hummed into your mouth.

“Miss me?” you teased.

Ben huffed. As usual though, his answer was in his actions. He held you close for a moment, just to feel you there.

Your arms slipped around his, clinging to his shoulders as you rested against him. This was your safe, comfortable place where you always felt at home.

But, you couldn’t help but break the spell.

“Come on. Clean up on aisle 12,” you quipped, reaching around to smack his ass.

Ben rolled his eyes, but when you pulled away from him, he followed you into the kitchen.

“You know, I had a lot going on. Your kid is a fucking menace,” he said. “Like a bull in a China shop.”

You scoffed. “She’s only my kid when she gives you a hard time. Where do you think she gets it from?”

“You,” he retorted.

You had to laugh at that one. It still didn’t get him out of helping you clean the kitchen from top to bottom.

After a long shower, waking an errant child from her nap, dinner, and a joint effort of getting Lila to sleep for the night, Ben joined you in bed wearing just his usual sweatpants.

You’d opted for some black satin, he noticed.

Good, he thought, for the night to come. You’d spent the whole day getting massaged and moisturized and whatever else women did on a day out.

When he rolled onto his side, you greeted him with a smile and a hand running up his arm, already pulling him toward you. His hand glided along your bare thigh as you hooked it over his hip.

“I need to tell you something, but you’ve gotta promise not to say anything to anyone,” you whispered in the small space between his face and yours, and you tapped his chin.

Ben raised a brow and squeezed your thigh. Whatever it was, couldn’t it wait until long after he’d undressed you?

“What?” he asked.

“Annie’s pregnant!” you said with a wide smile. “Six weeks. She just told me today.”

Ben blinked at that one. “Is it Hughie’s kid?”

“Wha…of course, it is!”

“Wow. Guess he had it in him after all,” Ben remarked. “Who woulda thought.”

You shook your head, but his grin made you laugh.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, through your remaining giggles, though you leaned forward and stole a kiss. It led Ben to want more, and more of you.

He started to ply you with slow, lazy kisses that grew deeper, becoming all-consuming as his tongue warred against yours. His hands dove under the satin covering your body, and his thumbs brushed the sides of your breasts.

“Maybe it’s time we go for number two,” he said.

You uttered another incredulous laugh, gripped a fist in his hair and tugged. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me,” Ben said. He rolled you onto your back and pinned you there. “Ain’t no way we’re stopping at one. Lila needs a brother.”

“You can’t even handle one,” you teased. Your hands slid up his arms and then down his chest. “Baby, we can talk about having more kids, but—”

“And? We’re talking now,” he said. He dipped his head to start kissing a hot, wet line down your neck. It made your breath falter and your back start to arch. Your hips shifted against his, trying to find friction. You could feel his length hardening against your thigh.

“Ben,” you warned, and implored, but the graze of his teeth on your neck made you shudder.

Your grip on his arms tightened. “Please…”

“Please what?” he smirked against your skin. His hips rocked against your heated core.

This conversation was going into a no man’s land very fast.

You literally took matters into your own hands…by reaching down and grasping your husband’s cock through his sweatpants. You gave him a demanding squeeze.

His breath hitched. Ben paused, unlatching from your neck, and turning his lips toward your cheek.

“I’m listening,” he said, in a gritted voice. You smirked.

“We can, and we will talk about this,” you promised. “Just not when you’re about to be balls-deep inside me.”

You were back on birth control anyway (the pill this time).

Ben chuckled. His hand reached up and smoothed your hair away from your forehead.

“Fine,” he conceded. A smirk grew across his face. “But we can still practice.”

A giggle fell from your lips, just before he claimed them once again.

AN: A little callback to the BMD Epilogue at the end there. 😂

What did you think about the father/daughter time? And do you think Ben won against either of the ladies in his life? 🤣

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, in a drama-filled episode, you and Ben do what you two do best in Calculated Risks:

Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.

▶️ Keep Reading: Calculated Risks

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@this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

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[little-diable]

The Chase – Draco Malfoy (smut)

Since y'all seem to enjoy my Draco fics that have some rougher smut in them, I couldn't stop myself from writing this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Draco has been feeling frustrated for days, something that finally changes as he tells his wife that he's ready to hunt her down and remind her who she belongs to. Basically pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, rough smut, tied wrists, dom!Draco, hide/seek, oral (f), some degrading

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!wife!reader (1.8k words)

Her eyes were focused on her phone, while her heart was racing in her chest, pounding with a strong beat that whispered to her, urging (y/n) on to prepare for what her husband had just texted her. Draco had been in some kind of mood for the past days, a rather snappish mood she hadn’t enjoyed being around, deciding to keep her distance while he worked through whatever he had struggles with at work. But the text she was now rereading for the tenth time told her that all the pent-up frustration would be left in the past after tonight. 

“You may run and hide from me, but tonight, I’ll catch you. xxx” 

Draco and her had done this a while back for the first time, letting him hunt her down before using her like a vessel for his frustration and anger, littering her body with marks she’d trace in the midnight hour with a proud smirk. She loved the chase, the thrill shooting through her body while her adrenaline spiked. 

(Y/n) knew that Draco would find her in no time, very well knowing that neither of them could go long without touching their significant other, especially when both were urged on by their frustration, their need and hunger for one another. She could already feel him buried deep inside of her, letting her walls clench around nothing at the mere thought of being fucked by her husband. 

Perhaps he’d use their blindfold, perhaps he’d tie her to the bed, while fucking her from behind, whatever it was he was about to do to her, (y/n) would take it all with a satisfied grin, ready to offer every inch of trembling body to her husband like a sacrifice. 

Tonight she’d let him play, tonight she’d let him win their chase – very well knowing that whatever he’d do to her would be her greatest win after all.

……

“Honey, I’m home!” Draco’s voice echoed through their house, ringing in her ears as she hid beneath their bed. It wasn’t a creative hiding spot, and yet it was the perfect place for them, knowing he’d find (y/n) in no time, to fuck her rough like she knew he would.

The sound of his feet meeting the wooden ground made her breath hitch in her chest, while picturing the suit perfectly clinging to his frame, with the first few buttons of his shirt undone, and how he was wearing his blonde hair slightly gelled back – a sight that would make her fawn over her handsome husband. 

“Where are you hiding, pretty girl?” She heard Draco step into the room next door, opening their dresser, and closing it again after a few more seconds. (Y/n) counted the passing by seconds, letting the numbers echo through her mind while Draco kept taking his time, stepping into their bathroom for a few seconds. 

“I can’t wait to fuck your tight cunt, while you scream my name, it’s the only thing I could think of today.” Draco’s voice dripped with something dark, something that drew a soft moan from her while she stayed hidden. His feet came into view as he entered the bedroom and closed the door behind himself, seemingly all too aware that she was hiding close by. 

“Fuck, honey, I will make you tremble, make you forget your name while you take my cock like you were made to do.” Without another warning he crouched down to reach for her, pulling (y/n) from her hiding spot with a satisfied grin. She barely got any time to understand what her husband was doing as he picked her up and threw her down on the bed. 

(Y/n)’s gasps echoed through the bedroom as she stared up at Draco, focusing on the smirk he wore, paired with that dark gaze that pushed heat straight to her pulsing bundle. Draco settled between her naked legs, only wearing a shirt of his and her already damp panties, to reach down and kiss her breathless. 

It had been days since he had touched her, let alone kissed her like this, a teeth clashing kiss that made their hearts race and their limbs tingle. Her fingers found their way to his blonde hair to tug on his roots, trying to pull her husband even closer while he shifted his weight onto his right hand as his other hand reached for their bedside table. 

“Give me your hands, pretty girl.” He murmured the words against her already swollen lips. (Y/n) wanted to protest, wanted to beg him not to tie her to her bed, but the warning gaze he shot her left her breathless, unable to speak a single word. Draco gently took her wrists to tie them to the cold metallic frame of their bed with the dark green rope he enjoyed using on her. “Such a pretty sight, but I think we’ll have to get rid of that shirt, I want to see all of you.”

“Draco,” the warning tone dripping from her voice left Draco chuckling as he reached for the small knife they used whenever they were high on the thrill, staring at one another while he’d trace her skin with the knife. All (y/n) could do was tug on the rope as he sliced the fabric of his shirt apart, exposing her naked upper body to his twinkling eyes.

“Fuck, look at you, baby.” His head dipped down to press a kiss to the valley between her breasts before his hand dropped the knife to cup her right one. She was a moaning mess, choking on her sounds while he pressed his middle against hers, letting (y/n) feel his hardening cock. 

“Fuck me, Draco, please, it’s been so long.” He spared her words no attention while he sucked on her hardening nubs, drawing gritty sounds from (y/n) – sounds that made his cock twitch in his suit trousers. Draco gave himself a few more moments to suck marks into her skin before he finally let his hands find her panties to move them down her legs.

The two held eye contact as he rose to his feet, while staring down at her to slowly undress himself. Draco was teasing her, enjoying the desperation tugging on (y/n)’s features while she watched him, unable to touch her husband. His shirt was dropped to the floor as his hands began to work on his belt and finally on his trousers and underwear to expose his hard cock to her wandering eyes. 

Precum was glistening on his tip as Draco slowly stroked himself, giving (y/n) a show as she could only tug on the rope and try to shuffle closer to him. She was impatient, burning from inside out, all because he made her feel this whirlwind of emotions, high on whatever he’d offer his wife. 

“Spread your legs for me, baby, show me how much you need me.” Her body blindly followed the command. She spread her legs for his bright eyes, letting him take in the sight of her arousal-covered folds, of her pulsing bundle, and the beautiful skin he’d kiss any moment now. Draco moved slowly, calculated as if he had thought of this strategy for hours on end, trying to figure out the best way to make her tremble in need. 

Their eyes kept searching on another, Draco settled back between her legs to let his tongue brush through her slit, moaning at the taste of her arousal. Both knew they wouldn’t be able to drag this out for much longer, needing to feel one another in the most intimate way imaginable. His tongue moved fast, brushing over her clit to draw a loud moan from (y/n) while she arched her back off the mattress. 

“Oh god, ‘missed you so much.” (Y/n) mumbled her words, confessions that left Draco smiling against her naked cunt. His bright eyes intently studied her, while he pushed two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls to prepare her for his twitching cock. He allowed himself to fuck her for a moment or two before finally pulling away from her, set on pushing her over the edge with his aching cock buried deep inside of her. 

“You’ll take my cock like the good girl you are, and then I may allow you to touch me.” His words echoed through her mind, a small distraction for a second or two as Draco aligned himself with her heat, only to push into her as she nodded her head. Both moaned in unison at the familiar sensation, already high on the feeling of her tight walls clenching his cock, begging him to fuck her into oblivion. 

The rope burned into (y/n)’s skin as she kept tugging on it, praying to whoever was listening that she’d be able to feel him soon enough. Draco fucked her without holding back, letting his body meet hers with every ferocious thrust that left both moaning, choking on the sweetest sounds clawing through them. 

“Fuck, I love you, my perfect girl.” Draco’s words dripped with arousal, with a hunger that made the inferno burning deep inside of her grow, threatening to leave marks with its heat – marks that may never fade again. Her walls fluttered around his cock as his thumb found her clit, offering the extra stimulation she desperately needed.  

“Let me touch you, please.” (Y/n) whispered her words with wide eyes and parted lips, hoping that her husband would finally give in. It took Draco a few more thrusts before he followed the call and tugged on the rope, letting it drop to the mattress while her hands instantly found his face, pulling him in for a kiss. 

Their tongues fought for victory while Draco fucked her closer to the edge, making her see stars whenever he met her swollen spot. Her hands found their way down his neck to his shoulders, letting her fingernails scratch his skin to draw groans from him, and finally letting them claw into his skin to draw some blood. 

“Cum for me, baby, clench my cock while you scream my name.” He marvelled at (y/n) as she came, letting her head roll back to expose her throat to his wandering lips. Draco left his marks on her throat as he fucked her through her high, only following her down the edge as she panted his name again, like a prayer leaving her soft lips. 

“Don’t ever go that long without touching me, do you hear me?” (Y/n) whispered her words as he rested on her chest, letting them both of them relax as the sweet sensation clung to them, reminding them of one another’s love. 

“I promise, even though this was fucking worth it.”

[notmuchtofind]

Inpatient | r.c

word count: 2k

tw: 18+, daddy kink, degrading, masturbation, slight abuse, praise kink, c0ckwarming, slight mental b0ndage, pillow grinding, dark rafe, dom rafe, fingering, p in v

synopsis: Rafe catches you pleasuring yourself and isnt overly please

a/n: ahhhhh another feral read!!!! be prepared <333 I hope you enjoyyy. also thank you sm for just over 100 followers and over 1000 likes so quickly! lyyyy🤍 alsoooooo, hbd drew! ✨eeeeee xox

You walk your bare feet across the floor and through into the ensuite of Rafes bedroom. You begin to brush your teeth and as you do so you check your phone; 11:23pm. You sigh as place your phone on the side of the sink basin. Rafe told you he'd be back around 10pm, he's not text or called to update you. But to be honest, this isn't unlike him, it doesn't worry you too much. You just wish maybe he would let you know from time to time... He said he had a few things to take care of when he left this morning, things he does not discuss with you and you're okay with that, you have an incline that not everything Rafe gets upto is legal, you know he doesn't want you to get mixed up in any of his work.

Rafe insisted you to stay at his whilst he was out, The nights come earlier as its now winter, even though the temperature is still pretty high and it can be quite pleasant. the rain and fog in outerbanks is substandard today, its not safe for you to be out there in Rafes eyes. Rafes protective, if anything bad was to happen to you he would blame himself, And you'd rather abide by rafes rules, probably because he praises you when you do and to be honest, you'd do anything to hear rafe tell you you're his 'good girl'. and partly because you're very hesitant to get on the wrong side of rafe. You've been there a few times and you try everything in your power to not make it a frequent occurrence.

You walk over to the bed ,still not made from the night before. you sink into the sheets and contemplate what to do with yourself...you twiddle with the drawstrings of your pyjama shorts as you run possibilities through your head. But the one thing that's forced to the front of your mind is rafe, you've missed him all day, desperately craving his touch and you have no idea how soon it is till he's home. The thoughts of last night with rafe circle your head, his hand trailing down your thigh when you're just about to drift off to sleep, signalling what he wants. If he's feeling soft, he'll always begin by planting kisses on your neck, then wander down your body and stopping when he reaches your core...

The thoughts send you spiralling and you can't help but reach down your pyjama shorts, rubbing gentle circles on your pussy through your panties, already slightly soaked from the thoughts of your boyfriend. You arch your back and let out a soft moan as you slip your hand into your panties and begin to trail a finger up and down your cunt, making sure your wetness is covering your folds. another soft moan slips out of your mouth.

Your clit begins to throb and is begging to be stimulated. But your fingers just don't seem to be enough, you're longing to be riding rafes length, you just want to feel yourself straddling him whilst his cock stuffs you.

You sit up without hesitation and begin to look around for a possible object to satisfy you... your mind is racing. You stare at the pillow that had been propping up your head and slowly remove it from its position.Your heads spinning thinking about the pleasure you're about to endure. You begin to kneel and straddle the pillow whilst positioning it correctly so it will be enough to stimulate your throbbing core. You pull your shorts and panties to the side slightly as you are too eager to take them off. You place your folds onto the pillow and begin to grind, you feel yourself growing wetter and your juices are quickly absorbed into the pillow, making the friction between your pussy and the pillow feel like heaven. "mm rafe" you whimper as you throw your head back and imagine Rafe underneath you. 

"mmm fuck rafe, you fuck me so good" you cry . "I know I do baby" 

You're startled. you quickly twist round towards the door, unstraddling the pillow.``What the fuck Rafe" you snap holding your hand close to your chest "you scared me..." said with slight embarrassment. "I didn't say stop, '' Rafes spits as he's leant against the door frame "Have you missed me that much? That you couldn't wait till daddy got home to be a slut?" Rafe walks over to the bed and towers over you. You're lost for words, you're frozen, he makes you so weak. "Answer me y/n!" He spits, grabbing your arm and pulling you to the edge of the bed, you gaze up at him and nod. "use your words pretty girl" he encourages..."yes i've missed you '' you say with slight hesitation. not because you're unsure you'd missed him, but because you're nervous of what comes next. Are you going to be punished for pleasuring yourself when he wasn't here or is he going to let you off...?

Rafe brings his hand up to your jaw and grasps it, just enough to make you wince slightly. '`yes what y/n?" he says with a slight impatient undertone, tilting your head up higher to make sure your eyes are definitely on his. "yes daddy...i've missed you ''. 

"My good girl" Rafe praises, making your heat grow even wetter. He loosens his grip and intertwined his fingers into your hair " why don't you show daddy how much you've missed me? Show me how you fucked the pillow, like a whore when I was away" Rafe suddenly grabs your hips and lifts you up before turning around and replacing your place on the edge of the bed, placing you on top of him. 

You're now straddling him. Rafes hands are at the back of him propping him up whilst his eyes wander over your body. "go on, show me, like a good little slut".

You look Rafe in the eyes and begin to hesitantly grind on his lap, you're slightly embarrassed, and unsure of what to do,but before you have another moment to think you feel a harsh pain seer through your face as your head whips to the left after Rafes palm leaves your face. "Fucking chop chop y/n! I gave you an opportunity for me to go easy on you but if youre gunna be a little bitch, you get fucking treat like one" Rafe spits, you wince in pain before rafes fist snakes around your neck "Works been rough today baby, I came home to see my girl could've even wait for me before pleasuring that pretty pussy?" he coos " You pleasured yourself in my home? on my bed? without me here?" he questions whilst tilting his head, his fist still gripped around your throat. "The least you can do is show daddy how much you missed him...So fucking show me you slut!" Rafes grip loosens as he uses his hand to slap your arse, Asif he was telling a horse to giddy up. You feel your pussy sticking to your panties as your folds overflow with juices. You lock eyes with rafe and begin to grind your hips back and forth on rafes growing bulge, aroused, but slightly scared to know what could come next if you don't abide . "Good girl" he spits, grabbing your hair and pulling your head back, before unbuckling his pants. you lift yourself up slightly as he lays back on the bed, he pulls his jeans and boxers down past his length. His cock springs up and he groans when it slaps on his stomach, causing the precum on his cock to leave a slight residue.

Rafe then sits back up and pulls your top down past your tits, revealing your hardened nipples. "Pull your panties to the side my sweet girl" as you do so rafes fingers trace your pussy and with no hesitation he puts 2 inside, causing your pussy to drip a little as he pushes the resting juices out of you. You begin moaning, grinding yourself on his fingers "r-rafe" you whimper. "That's it, make a mess for daddy" he states, whilst curling his fingers inside you.

Rafes lips meet yours, vigorously inviting his tongue into your mouth, he abides and follows it by biting on your bottom lip, with his fingers still inside you you both let out groans, as the kissing intensifies, becoming faster, sloppier. 

"fuck, c'mere" he demands and lays on his back once more, whilst spreading his legs. He pulls you so your hole is now lined up with his cock before he thrusts his hips up, "ahh shit" he groans as your entrance is stuffed with his throbbing cock, you're wet core once again making a mess, dripping down rafes dick as he pumps in and out of you. You sit ontop of him, a weak, whimpering mess as rafes fingers enter your mouth "open for me slut" he groans. Rafe begins to slow down and he removes his fingers from your mouth, saliva strings from your mouth as he pulls his fingers away. "mmmm,Now show me how you fucked that pillow baby girl. let daddy have a rest".

"yes daddy" you state as you begin to bounce yourself up and down, and rafe watches in awe as your tits bounce in sync. He throws his head back and arches his hips up. You then start to grind yourself, using your feet to stable you. Your head and hair bob up and down and the moans come out in sync with your movements. "ugh fuck y/n, i'm gonna have to pound this pretty pussy" Rafe snaps. He grabs the back of your head without warning ,slamming it in between his shoulder and neck, forcing your whole body down on top of him. He begins to upthrust, forcing his dick deep into your walls, hitting just the right spot. He pumps and pumps faster and faster, groaning with every out stroke. "stay just like that, dont move baby, just be daddy's little cum slut and let me use your holes how daddy likes,mmm fuck" he says whilst still forcing your head down with the palm of his hand and the other grips around the back of your waist.

Your body bobs up and down with rafes thrusts and shakes under Rafes' grip as it's about to be pushed to its limit. You can't help but let out a moan that almost could've been a scream and you feel your walls tighten around rafes girthy length, you feel your juices begin to gush out of your cunt and down rafes dick, stopping at the base of his cock and making your inner thighs sticky as he carries on pounding you "mmmm that's it baby, make a mess for me, you've taken this dick so well my good girl" Rafe praises, and It sends butterflies flying around your stomach.

As rafe begins to still pump in and out you feel his dick twitch inside you slightly, signalling he's close. "let daddy fill you up, Your mine, this pussys all mine" He groans before shooting his thick load inside your walls, you feel the warm liquid coat you and mix together with your juices and your pussy squelches with the last couple of thrusts that rafe pounds into you. 

"fuck baby" Rafe pulls your head up by your hair and forces you to look at him whilst his cock still rests inside you. You giggle slightly as you cant believe how amazing he makes you feel "thank you daddy" you say and rafe tries to hide a grin forming on his face... "you're so perfect" he whispers, meeting your eyes with his before forcing your head back down and wrapping his arms around your frame, engulfing you into a hug.

pls feel free to repost if you enjoyed 🥺!

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Kinktober day 2 | Billy Loomis x Reader

Kinktober day 2: phone sex

Word count: 0.7k

Warnings: 18+, masturbating, dirty talk

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Good night, dad,’’ you wished with a smile before you closed your bedroom door. 

You turned on your night lamp and drew back your comforter, getting ready for bed. The rain was pouring outside your window, making it difficult to see through the glass. You wrinkled your nose, knowing it’ll be that way for the rest of the week and that you and Tatum will have to reschedule your plans for tomorrow. 

Just as you were about to turn off the light and get in bed, the sudden shrill of the phone on your nightstand startled you. You picked up the receiver with a frown.  

‘’Hello?’’ you answered.

‘’Hey, baby,’’ the low tone of your boyfriend said on the other end.

‘’Billy?’’ You sat down on your bed, waiting for him to speak further, but there was only silence. ‘’Everything alright?’’ Late-night calls were unusual for him.

‘’Yeah, eh… What are you doing?’’ 

‘’Well, it’s 10pm, so I was about to go to bed.’’

‘’Are you wearing sexy pajamas?’’ he inquired, his tone suggestive.

Although you couldn’t see him, you knew he was smirking on the other end. The last time he showed up at your window, he caught you in a satin nightie and called it a ‘sexy pajama’ because he could see your nipples poking through the fabric. 

You bit your lip to stifle a smile at the memories, and sighed. ‘’My dad is home. And not sleeping. If you called me to jerk off to the sound of my voice, I’m gonna hang up—’’

‘’No. Wait!’’ Billy interjected before you hung up the phone. ‘’I…I miss you.’’

‘’I saw you six hours ago.’’ 

‘’So? I can’t miss you?’’ 

‘’I’m not saying that.’’ You reclined against your pillows, a playful tone in your voice as you continued talking. ‘’But is it me you’re missing, or what’s between my body? Because you never call past 8pm…unless you’re horny.’’ 

Billy laughed quietly in the receiver, shaking his head. You knew him too well. ‘’That’s a question I can’t answer.’’ 

‘’Horny dog.’’ 

‘’I can’t help it. I just think of you and my dick gets hard.’’ 

It was your turn to laugh. You covered your mouth, stifling your giggles so your dad wouldn’t hear you. 

‘’Are you hard right now?’’ you asked, surprising yourself.

‘’I thought you said no phone sex tonight?’’ 

You bit your lip, pulling your knees to your chest. ‘’A girl can’t change her mind?’’ 

There was a little bit of shuffling around and rustling on Billy’s side of the line, probably getting settled in his bed. Then he was back, his breathing heavier through the phone. 

‘’Are you jerking off?’’ 

His hand trailed down to his cock and pressed the heel of his palm down onto it. ‘’Not yet. Keep talking.’’ 

You did, fiddling with the phone cord as you whispered dirty things. It felt strange to do this while your dad was home. You usually waited for him to be asleep or at work to let your hands wander over your pajama shorts. But not tonight. 

‘’I wish it wasn’t pouring buckets right now so I could come over and get the real thing,’’ Billy said, cursing the shitty weather forecast. ‘’I really want to touch those pretty tits.’’  

 ‘’Just my tits?’’ 

‘’Nah. I wanna rub my cock over your sweet pussy, tease your clit with it until you’re a mess.’’ 

You slipped a hand down to rub yourself softly while he spoke, relieving the ache between your legs. It wasn’t as satisfying as when Billy did it, but you still whimpered into the receiver when your finger reached your clit.

‘’You touching yourself too?’’

‘’Mmh.’’ 

But you needed more. 

Holding the phone with your ear and shoulder, you glanced at your nightstand, searching for your hairbrush, but remembered you had left it in the bathroom after your shower. Fuck. Right when you needed it.

‘’Hairbrush?’’ Billy echoed, making you realize you had spoken those thoughts out loud. ‘’Why do you need a hairbrush?’’

Your face burned red. ‘’I use it to…you know. It reaches deeper.’’

Billy grunted, picturing you fucking yourself with your hairbrush. ‘’Fuck.’’ He took a breath, biting his lip as he swiped his thumb over his weeping tip. ‘’Give a guy a warning next time you say something like that. I almost spilled.’’ 

‘’I take it it’s not the time to tell you what I do with the shower-head?’’

—

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[lila-lou]

✨High School Sweetheart - Pt 6✨

Summary: You come face-to-face with a ghost from your past—Dean Winchester. Five years after he vanished from your life without a word, and now he´s here. But neither you nor he are teenagers anymore.

-Listen to "Chance with you"-

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Fuff, Dean being hurt

Word Count: 7683

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

The two of you had only just drifted into a blissful sleep when Dean’s phone buzzed loudly, shattering the peaceful quiet of the morning. He groaned, reaching over to grab it from the nightstand, squinting at the screen before reluctantly answering.

“’Bout time you woke up”, Sam’s voice came through the line, laced with barely-contained amusement. “You know it’s almost eleven, right? Figured I’d let you sleep in, but we’ve got work to do, and I can’t exactly solve this on my own”.

Dean groaned, rubbing his face as he processed the reminder of reality creeping back in. “Yeah, yeah, I hear you”, he mumbled, still not fully awake but too comfortable to be annoyed. “I’ll be there soon”.

Sam’s tone turned playful. “And by the way, hope you got everything… out of your system”, he teased, clearly enjoying this a bit too much. “Because I need you focused now”.

Dean rolled his eyes, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t you worry about me”, he shot back, though there was no mistaking the relaxed, satisfied look on his face as he glanced over at you, who was stirring awake beside him. “I’ll be there soon”. he repeated, hanging up.

He sighed, running a hand over his face and turning to you with a soft smile. “Looks like duty calls”, he murmured, reaching out to brush a few strands of hair from your face.

You gave a sleepy smile, knowing this was just part of his world. “Guess you’ve got a brother to keep happy”, you replied with a small chuckle.

Dean hesitated, a slight blush coloring his cheeks as he looked at you, clearly weighing his words. Finally, he broke into a small, almost shy smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, uh… are you free tonight?”, he asked, his voice softer, laced with a hint of vulnerability that you didn’t often see from him.

You couldn’t help but smile, warmth spreading through you at the unexpected question. “I think I could clear my schedule”, you teased gently, reaching up to brush a hand along his cheek, feeling the slight stubble beneath your fingers.

Dean chuckled softly, his blush deepening as he looked down, momentarily avoiding your gaze. “I, uh… don’t really have a plan”, he admitted, a bit awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Just… didn’t want this to be it. Wanted to see you again. Later”.

The honesty in his voice, mixed with a hint of that rare vulnerability, made your heart skip a beat. Here was Dean, always so tough and confident, looking almost boyish as he waited for your answer, the faintest hint of nerves showing through.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, your smile warm. “I’d like that, too. Plans or no plans, just… you”.

He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, relaxing as he gave you a small, lopsided grin. “Good. Then it’s a date. Or… not a date. Whatever you want to call it”, he mumbled, still slightly awkward, but the warmth in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Date sounds perfect”, you replied, making him smile even more.

As Dean moved around your room, pulling on his jeans and shrugging into his shirt, you couldn’t help but watch him, your gaze lingering on every detail. The way his muscles moved beneath his skin, the comfortable confidence in his movements—it all drew you in, each small moment only deepening the warmth in your chest. When his fingers worked the buttons on his shirt, your eyes followed, lingering just a bit longer as he adjusted the fabric around his waist, catching the faint lines of his hips.

He glanced up, catching you watching, and a playful smirk curved on his lips. “Like what you see?”, he teased, his voice low, that familiar, cocky edge slipping back in.

You felt a blush spread over your cheeks but managed a smirk in return. “Maybe”, you replied, crossing your arms and giving him a casual shrug. “But I’ve definitely seen better”.

He laughed, stepping close enough to brush a kiss across your forehead. “Liar”, he murmured, his voice soft, his thumb tracing over your cheek in a gentle caress. “I’ll see you tonight”, he added, his gaze lingering on you, full of warmth and unspoken promises.

As soon as the door closed behind him, you found yourself grinning uncontrollably, that familiar, fluttery feeling bubbling up inside you. It was like you were 16 again, caught up in a crush so intense it left you wiggling your legs and barely able to contain your excitement. Everything about him—his easy charm, the way he looked at you, that unexpected, almost shy invitation for tonight—had left you feeling giddy and weightless.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, leaning back against the pillow as if grounding yourself, but the grin wouldn’t leave your face. Memories of stolen glances and nervous excitement flooded back, blending with the thrill of the present. It was strange, a little overwhelming, and completely wonderful all at once.

Tonight was just hours away, and the anticipation brought back that same rush of energy, the same heart-flipping thrill that had first pulled you toward Dean all those years ago.

When Dean pulled up in the Impala, Sam was already standing outside their motel room, arms crossed, his face lit up with an all-too-knowing grin. The second Dean got out of the car, Sam didn’t waste a beat, his teasing tone loaded and ready.

“Look who finally decided to show up”, Sam said, his voice dripping with amusement as he raised an eyebrow. “Had a good night, did you?”.

Dean rolled his eyes, but the faint blush creeping up his neck was hard to miss. He tried to brush past Sam, heading for the trunk to help Sam load their gear. “Don’t start, Sammy”, he muttered, though his attempt at being nonchalant was betrayed by the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, I’m just warming up”, Sam replied, following Dean to the back of the car with a wicked grin.

As Dean popped open the trunk, Sam leaned in, his grin growing wider. “So, did you manage to get any actual sleep, or was it… a marathon?”, he teased, waggling his eyebrows for good measure.

Dean shot him a look, a mix of exasperation and amusement. “You got a real talent for sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, you know that?”.

Sam chuckled, unfazed. “Hey, when my big brother rolls in looking like he’s been hit by the ‘love truck’, I think I’m allowed to ask a few questions”.

Dean shook his head, but there was no hiding the soft smile that slipped through. “Alright, fine, I had a good night. You happy?”.

“Yeah, I am”, Sam said, clapping a hand on Dean’s shoulder with a genuine smile. “It’s good to see you like this, man”.

Dean gave him a sidelong look, a bit of warmth creeping back into his eyes. “Thanks, Sammy”, he muttered, shutting the trunk with finality as they loaded up their weapons. “Now, let’s get back to business”.

Sam gave a mock salute, but as they climbed into the Impala, Dean could see his brother’s grin lingering.

As evening fell, Dean stood in front of the motel mirror, groaning quietly as he shrugged on a clean shirt, the movement pulling at sore muscles. After the day they’d had, he was practically covered in cuts and bruises, his back aching from being thrown across half the room by one of the particularly nasty spirits at the haunted house. His chest and shoulders throbbed, the kind of deep, lingering pain that promised to stick around for a while.

He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as he twisted his sore shoulder just enough to catch his reflection. There was no hiding the tired look in his eyes, or the bruises scattered across his arms and neck. It wasn’t the first time he’d come out of a hunt worse for wear, but tonight, it felt particularly exhausting—maybe because he’d been looking forward to seeing you all day.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself as he reached for his jacket. He didn’t want to cancel or show up looking like he’d been through a war zone. Taking a final glance in the mirror, he gave himself a nod, pushing through the discomfort with the usual Winchester resolve.

Just as he finished, Sam glanced over from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed, observing Dean with a raised eyebrow. “You sure you’re up for this?”.

Dean shot him a look, brushing off the concern with a smirk. “Trust me, a couple of bruises aren’t gonna stop me”.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, just try not to collapse halfway through, okay?”.

Dean rolled his eyes, grabbing his keys. “I’ll be fine. And… Don’t wait up”, he muttered, heading out the door.

Meanwhile, you took your time in the shower, letting the warm water ease any tension and lingering nerves. You’d been looking forward to the evening, feeling a mix of excitement and a familiar sense of comfort at the thought of spending time with Dean. The anticipation had a way of making you a little giddy, like you were preparing for a first date all over again.

You took extra care, smoothing on a favorite lotion with a soft, comforting scent that lingered on your skin. After you dressed, you gave yourself one last look in the mirror, brushing through your hair and smoothing down your clothes, making sure every detail was just right.

When the doorbell rang, you opened it to find Dean standing there with his usual confident grin, leaning casually against the doorframe as if everything was perfectly fine. He looked a little more dressed up than usual, but you noticed the faint shadows under his eyes and a hint of stiffness in his stance. He was doing his best to hide it, but it was clear he was dealing with the aftermath of a rough day.

“Hey”, he greeted smoothly, his tone light, like he hadn’t just spent the day dealing with angry spirits. “You look… amazing”.

You returned his smile, taking in the faint bruises along his jaw and the way he was holding himself a little too carefully. “Thanks”, you replied, giving him a once-over that you hoped looked casual. “And you look… sore”.

Dean laughed softly, though he couldn’t quite mask the wince as he straightened up. “Sore? Nah. Just a scratch or two”. He tried to brush it off, but you could see through his act, noting the way his shoulder seemed tense, the subtle flinch as he moved his arm.

“Uh-huh. Come on in”, you said, stepping aside to let him in, deciding not to push it—at least, not yet. He walked in, doing his best to look unaffected as he settled into your cozy living room, glancing around with a smile that softened the roughness from his day.

You went to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of drinks and trying to think of a gentle way to help him relax without making a big deal out of it. When you returned, you sat down next to him, handing him a drink as you leaned back, smiling at him. “You know”, you said, your tone teasing but warm, “it’s okay to admit you had a tough day”.

Dean glanced at you, giving a half-smile before looking away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe a little rougher than I’d planned”, he admitted, a bit sheepish.

As Dean slowly shrugged off his jacket, wincing slightly, you reached over to set his beer on the small table beside him, taking the opportunity to really look at him. The bruises and cuts peeking out from under his sleeves and collar told the story of his day more vividly than any words could. A particularly nasty-looking cut traced along his forearm, and there was a faint line of bruising at the base of his neck, disappearing under his shirt.

“You really got yourself into it today, didn’t you?”, you murmured, reaching out instinctively to brush a thumb over a small scrape near his wrist. He gave a small chuckle, though it came out a bit strained.

“Guess the ghosts had it in for me today”, he said, trying to sound casual. But his eyes softened as he noticed your concern. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I’ll be fine”.

Dean kept brushing off your attempts to tend to his injuries, offering dismissive shrugs and that trademark grin, though the discomfort was evident in his eyes. You tried one last time, softly suggesting he let you help clean up a particularly nasty cut along his shoulder, but he just waved you off with a quiet, “I got it, really”.

Eventually, you sighed and let your hand drop, deciding to give up on convincing him. “Alright”, you murmured, trying to hide your frustration. But before you could fully turn away, he reached out, catching your wrist and tugging you toward him with a surprising intensity, landing against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

Despite the sharp sting of pain that shot through his shoulder from the sudden movement, Dean held you close, determined to show you that he was fine, that he could handle it. His arms wrapped around you with a gentle but firm hold, the steady beat of his heart under your cheek reassuring in its strength. He took a deep, grounding breath, his hand coming up to rest on the back of your head as if to say, I’m here, and I’m alright.

For a moment, he stayed silent, letting the warmth between you speak for itself, the quiet comfort of simply holding you somehow managing to chase away the worst of the ache. “See?”, he whispered finally, his voice low and rough near your ear. “I’m alright”. The words were soft, but there was a quiet determination behind them, an insistence that he could handle himself—even if, deep down, he knew the care in your touch was something he needed just as much.

You pulled back slightly, searching his face, and he met your gaze with a reassuring smile, one that barely masked the lingering pain in his eyes. Gently, you reached up, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, fingers grazing the line of a fresh bruise. “Dean”, you said, your tone soft but resolute. “I know you’re strong. Just… let me be here for you too, okay?”.

Dean’s voice softened, his words a quiet plea as he murmured, “Then help me get my mind off it”. With a gentle shift of his hands, he guided you to straddle his lap, pulling you closer until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that left little room for words.

You settled against him, feeling his hands trace up your back, grounding you both in the closeness. His touch was tender, careful, as if savoring each second. He brushed a thumb over your cheek, his eyes softened by the vulnerability he rarely showed anyone, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

With the world outside fading away, he tilted his head and leaned in, pressing his lips softly to yours. The kiss was slow and unhurried, an intimate embrace that seemed to melt the ache of his bruises and replace it with something warm and whole. His fingers trailed down to rest at your waist, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, a sigh of contentment escaping him.

After a while, as the kisses grew deeper and the space between you seemed to disappear, you reached for the hem of Dean’s shirt, your fingers brushing over his skin as you slowly pulled it over his head. The fabric slipped away, revealing the full extent of his injuries, and your breath hitched as you took in the bruises that traced across his chest, shoulders, and arms.

Your gaze lingered on the cuts and bruises, each one a testament to the risks he took, to the life he lived. A pang of concern tightened in your chest, but you fought back the urge to say something, knowing he would only brush it off again. Instead, you raised your hand, your fingertips tracing lightly along the lines of his collarbone, over the bruises with a touch so soft it was barely there.

Dean watched you, his eyes following every movement, his usual bravado softened by the tenderness in your touch. He took a shaky breath, as if the gentle care you showed affected him more than he wanted to admit.

“It’s okay”, he murmured, his voice low, as though he could sense your worry. “I’m okay”.

You met his gaze, seeing the resilience there but also a vulnerability, and without a word, you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder, right where a bruise bloomed.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and he let out a quiet sigh, resting his forehead against yours. The silence was filled with an unspoken understanding, a quiet promise that whatever happened, you’d be there to share the weight of it with him.

It didn’t take long until you found yourself straddling Dean’s now naked hips, a rush of familiarity mixed with the excitement of the moment. His hands rested on your waist, grounding you, his touch both steady and encouraging as you took a breath, your heart racing with anticipation.

Dean’s hands gently guided you, helping to align himself with you, his swollen tip pressing softly against your entrance, the warmth and tension building between you both. He looked up at you, his eyes holding a depth of warmth and tenderness that reassured you, easing any nervousness that lingered. One of his hands brushed a reassuring stroke along your thigh, his other hand steadying you, showing that he was here, fully with you.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you began to lower onto him, feeling him stretch and fill you slowly.

Dean let out a low, guttural groan, his head tilting back slightly as you settled onto him, his hands gripping your waist with a blend of restraint and desire. His gaze dropped between the two of you, watching the connection you shared with a look of almost reverent awe. “Shit", he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this… to you”.

His eyes lifted, meeting yours, and there was an unguarded honesty in his expression that made your breath hitch. The way he looked at you—as though this moment was as profound for him as it was for you—filled you with warmth.

You began to move, easing yourself up and down slowly, each movement sending waves of sensation through you as your body adjusted to the fullness, the stretch pulling quiet whimpers from your lips. The sound only seemed to deepen the connection between you both, making Dean’s grip on your waist tighten slightly, his thumbs tracing gentle circles against your skin in an attempt to steady himself as much as you.

As you moved slowly, one of his hands drifted up from your waist, tracing a gentle line along your side before coming to rest on your breast. His fingers were careful, reverent, as he cupped you, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that sent another shiver down your spine. His hand lingered there, squeezing gently, adding another layer of closeness to the intimacy between you.

As you softly moaned his name, Dean’s response was immediate and gentle. His head dipped down, and his lips found your nipple, enveloping it with a warmth that made your back arch slightly toward him. His touch was tender yet deliberate, his mouth working in harmony with the hand that wasn’t idling; his thumb and forefinger gently rolled and tugged at your other nipple, creating a dual sensation that had your breath catching in your throat.

The combination of his mouth and fingers was intoxicating, pushing your senses to new heights as he alternated between sucking gently and releasing, creating waves of pleasure that rippled through your entire body.

As you moved against him, finding a rhythm that matched the pulsing desire between you, your nails unknowingly grazed over his shoulders, brushing the sensitive, bruised skin beneath your touch. A low, guttural sound escaped Dean’s throat—a mix of pain and pleasure that made you freeze. “Shit, Dean, I’m so sorry”, you murmured, pulling back slightly, your fingers immediately lifting away from his body, a flicker of shame crossing your expression.

But Dean’s hands shot up to hold yours, stopping you from retreating completely. His gaze softened, and he managed a reassuring smile despite the faint lines of discomfort around his eyes. “No”, he whispered, his voice steady, almost gentle, “don’t stop”. His thumbs brushed over your knuckles, holding your gaze as if to reassure you, his expression filled with a quiet determination. “I’m okay”, he added. “I promise”.

Still, you hesitated, biting your lip, clearly reluctant to add to any pain he was already feeling. Sensing your concern, Dean pulled you closer, guiding your hands to rest against his chest, his heartbeat strong and steady beneath your palms. “You don’t have to hold back”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, a hint of vulnerability lacing his words.

After a moment, you nodded, allowing yourself to relax back into the motion, but this time way more mindful.

Sensing the shift in your mood, Dean’s grip on your hips tightened as he tried to urge you back into the rhythm that had been driving you both to the edge just moments ago. “Come on, baby”, he murmured, his voice tinged with both encouragement and need. But when he looked up, hoping to see the same passion and enjoyment in your face, he found you avoiding his gaze, moving more carefully than before. The intensity, the joy that had lit up your expression just a few seconds ago, had faded.

He could feel the hesitance in your movements, how you’d withdrawn into yourself, and it tugged at something deep inside him. The thought of you holding back, bothered him more than he could put into words. With a gentleness that contrasted the urgency of just a few moments before, he loosened his hold on your hips, his fingers tracing soft, reassuring circles against your skin.

“Hey”, he whispered, his tone shifting to one of tender concern. He leaned up slightly, tilting his head to try and meet your eyes, one hand reaching up to cup your face gently. “Look at me”. His thumb brushed your cheek, encouraging you to lift your gaze to his. When your eyes finally met, he saw the worry and guilt flickering there, and his heart ached for you.

“You don’t have to hold back for me”, he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I want you to enjoy this… to enjoy us. And I’m tougher than I look”. He offered a small, reassuring smile, one that made his eyes crinkle just slightly. “Promise me, alright?”.

Dean couldn’t help but roll his eyes, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he took in the way you bit your lip, the concern evident on your face. He loved you for it, for that soft, gentle way you cared about him—even when it led to stubbornness that seemed impossible to break through. With a soft, playful grumble, he murmured, “You’re still so damn stubborn, sweetheart”.

Before you could respond, he shifted, guiding you down onto the mattress, his strong arms bracketing you as he hovered above, his gaze intense and filled with both affection and a hint of challenge. Then, without hesitation, he thrust deeply into you, his movements full of purpose, as if he wanted to remind you of the passion that had brought you here.

The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and surprise that left you breathless. A moan escaped your lips, loud and uninhibited, followed by a soft curse as your head fell back against the pillow.

Dean’s eyes never left you, his focus entirely on making sure you felt every bit of his presence, the intensity and love that he poured into each thrust. “That’s it”, he murmured, his voice a low, comforting rasp.

But even as you felt yourself melting into the intensity of his movements, a small part of you still held back, reluctant to touch him for fear of hurting him again. But Dean could sense it—the slight hesitance, the restraint—and it only made him push deeper, his movements growing bolder, more intent on drawing every bit of feeling from you.

He leaned down, his voice low and rough with both need and affection. “If you keep your hands to yourself, baby, I might just have to make you grip me”, he murmured, each word filled with purpose as he thrust even harder, his gaze fixed on you with a quiet, challenging intensity.

The power behind his movements had you arching up against him, the depth of his thrusts leaving you breathless and drawing a soft, involuntary moan from your lips. Without thinking, your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as he pressed even closer. The warmth of his skin under your palms, the solid strength of him, reassured you, and the fear of hurting him melted away.

“That’s more like it”, he whispered, his own voice a little unsteady from the feeling of your hands clutching him.

As Dean set a rhythm that was both intense and unrelenting, he seemed to lose himself in the moment, his every movement driving deeper, harder, and filling you completely. His grip on you tightened, and though you didn’t notice, the cuts on his shoulders had reopened slightly. But Dean didn’t care, his focus solely on you, on the way your body responded to each thrust.

The pleasure was overwhelming, leaving you breathless, with his name the only word you could manage, murmured between gasps. His every movement hit your most sensitive spot, brushing your G-spot with a precision that had you shivering uncontrollably, your body barely able to keep up with the intensity of his pace.

You clung to him, your legs wrapping around his waist as his thrusts grew deeper, harder, leaving you completely at his mercy. The sensations built quickly, each one cresting higher than the last, pulling you closer to the edge until you felt yourself on the brink, teetering with each heartbeat, each breath.

“You’re mine, you know that?”, he murmured against your ear, his breath hot on your skin, each word punctuated by a deep, steady thrust that made you gasp. “No one else gets to see you like this… hear you like this”. His fingers dug just slightly into your hips, grounding you both in the moment, his touch a mix of gentle and firm, reminding you just how deeply he felt this.

He brushed his lips along your jaw, his words softening as his tone grew even more intense. “I love watching you fall apart for me”, he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “Every little sound you make… every shiver… it’s all mine”. His gaze held a mix of admiration and desire, his expression raw and unguarded.

“Just let go”, he urged, his hands steadying you, anchoring you in his hold. “I want to feel every bit of you, sweetheart”. The roughness in his voice was underlined with a quiet affection that made every word feel like a promise, a reminder that in this moment, you were his world.

Dean’s words hit you like a shockwave, the intensity of his possessive tone catching you completely off guard. The rough affection in his voice—claiming you, admiring every reaction you gave him—struck something deep within, sending a fresh surge of heat through you. It was unexpected, raw, and so deeply sincere that it pulled you even closer to the edge.

His gaze never left yours, filled with a fierce tenderness that only intensified the sensations building inside you. The way he looked at you, how his words wrapped around you like a protective embrace, made everything feel more heightened, more electric. The sudden surge of arousal swept through you, pushing you to the brink in mere seconds.

With a sharp, breathless gasp, you felt your body tense, a wave of intense pleasure crashing over you as you came, your entire form shuddering beneath him. The pleasure pulsed through you, leaving you breathless and overwhelmed, your nails digging into his back as you clung to him, riding out the waves of your climax. Dean held you through it, his hands steady.

As you trembled beneath him, still caught in the waves of your climax, Dean couldn’t hold back any longer. The sight of you—your flushed skin, the way his name spilled from your lips, breathless and raw—pushed him over the edge. With a deep, guttural groan, he buried himself in you fully, his body tensing as he joined you in release. The warmth and intensity of his own orgasm surged through him, his hands gripping you tightly, anchoring you both as he let go.

You kept murmuring his name, your eyes closed, lost in the lingering aftermath of your climax, still shivering as the sensation continued to ripple through you. Dean stayed close, his forehead pressed gently to yours as he caught his breath, his touch softening, fingers tracing tender patterns along your waist as he slowly came down.

You lay there, breath still heavy, feeling completely overwhelmed by the intensity of what you’d just shared. Your hands fell limply to your sides, every nerve in your body buzzing with the lingering effects of your climax. Dean stayed close, his gaze soft and warm as he looked down at you, still inside you, as if reluctant to let the moment end.

He reached up, gently brushing his fingers over your cheek, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles. For a few heartbeats, neither of you spoke; words felt almost unnecessary with the way he looked at you, his eyes filled with quiet affection and wonder, as if he couldn’t quite believe this moment was real.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice a soft murmur. “You’re incredible, you know that?”. His tone was laced with warmth, and you felt your heart swell, a smile breaking through despite the exhaustion.

You chuckled softly, your own voice a bit hoarse. “Right back at you, Winchester”.

He grinned, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead, still holding you close, as if he was content to stay like this a little longer.

After the shower, where the two of you had inevitably found yourselves wrapped up in each other again, Dean gently helped you into a plush robe, his touch lingering as he tied the belt around your waist. Your hair was still damp, strands sticking to your skin in delicate curls, and you looked up at him with wide eyes, a softness in your gaze that seemed to melt something inside him.

Dean brushed a few stray strands of hair back from your face, his fingers gentle, almost reverent, as they traced the line of your jaw. He paused, his thumb brushing your cheek, the familiar spark in his eyes mingling with something deeper, a quiet, unspoken affection that made your heart race all over again.

“You’re looking at me like that”, he murmured, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he took in the way you watched him.

You bit your lip, feeling a shy smile break through, the warmth in his gaze making you feel giddy and adored. “Like what?”.

“Like I’m still that kid sneaking in through your window”, he replied, his tone gentle but playful, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

Dean looked at you for a moment longer, an unspoken tenderness lingering in his gaze, as if he wanted to say something—something deep and meaningful, words that hung just on the edge of his lips. But instead, he simply leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his hand gently resting at the back of your head, grounding you both in that quiet moment of intimacy.

As he pulled back, he offered you a small, affectionate smile before turning to slip back into his clothes.

You bit your lip, watching him with that familiar warmth as he lingered by the door, his presence filling the room in a way that made it feel safe, complete. A playful smile tugged at your lips as you whispered, “Up for a midnight snack?”.

Dean’s face lit up with a smirk, a spark of interest flickering in his eyes. “You know me too well”, he murmured, stepping away from the door and back toward you, unable to resist the idea. “I could eat”.

You chuckled softly, gesturing for him to follow you as you padded barefoot to the kitchen, the warmth of your shared laughter making everything feel light and easy. As you rummaged through the fridge, Dean leaned against the counter, watching you with a quiet contentment that made you feel like this was exactly where you were both meant to be.

Pulling out a couple of leftover treats and setting them on the counter, you felt his hands find their way to your waist from behind, his touch gentle but grounding. “Midnight snacks with you”, he murmured, his chin resting on your shoulder as he glanced down at the food, “best part of my life”.

You turned slightly to look at him, meeting his gaze as a soft warmth settled over you both. "Well, don’t get too comfortable”, you teased. “I’m not sharing the last piece of pie”.

He chuckled, his eyes gleaming as he tightened his grip on your waist slightly. “Oh, we’ll see about that”.

You pulled out the piece of pie, smiling as you held it up for him. Before you could even offer it, Dean’s hands found your waist, his grip firm but gentle as he lifted you effortlessly onto the counter. A surprised laugh escaped you as he settled himself between your legs, his hands resting on either side of you, trapping you in the best way.

“You bought this just for me, didn’t you?”, he murmured, his voice low, his gaze flickering between the pie and your face. There was a warmth in his eyes, softened by a hint of playfulness, as he leaned in, his face inches from yours.

You nodded, biting your lip. “Maybe I did”, you replied, unable to hide the smile spreading across your face.

Dean’s eyes lit up, but instead of reaching for the pie, his hands found their way to your waist again, fingers pressing into your hips. He pulled you closer to him, his warmth seeping into you as he tilted his head, his voice a soft murmur. “You spoil me, you know that?”.

Your heart fluttered at the sincerity in his tone, but before you could respond, he closed the space between you, his lips capturing yours in a gentle but insistent kiss. The pie was momentarily forgotten as his hands slid up your sides, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss until you melted into him, completely wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

Pulling back slightly, he gave you that familiar, mischievous smile. “Maybe we can share… unless, of course, you’d rather have me all to yourself”.

You couldn’t resist the playful glint in his eyes, so you leaned in, your voice soft but teasing as you set the cake aside on the counter. “Oh, I don’t know, Dean… maybe I do want you all to myself”. You let your fingers trail lightly over his shoulders, your wide grin matching his.

Dean raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by the spark in your tone, his hands moving instinctively to your waist, squeezing just a bit. “Oh, is that right?”, he murmured, leaning in close, his lips brushing against yours with a deliberate slowness that made your heart race. “Guess I’ll just have to make sure you don’t regret it”.

You let out a soft laugh, feeling the warmth of his breath as he held himself close, his hands firm around you. Every little movement, every touch felt charged, full of the anticipation that hung between you. Dean’s eyes lingered on yours for a moment, his gaze dropping to your lips before he finally closed the space, pressing his mouth to yours in a kiss that was both sweet and filled with a simmering intensity.

As his lips left yours, he let his forehead rest against yours for a second. “Now”. he said with a grin, glancing over at the cake, “are we gonna eat that, or do you have other plans?”.

You smiled, savoring the feeling of his forehead against yours, the warmth of his presence making your heart flutter. With a teasing glint in your eyes, you leaned back slightly, your fingers trailing up his chest as you nodded toward the cake beside you on the counter.

“Well”, you said, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips, “maybe I thought I’d let you have a taste… of both”. You reached over, picking up a small bite of the cake and holding it up, daring him with your gaze.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head at you, clearly amused and entirely smitten. He leaned in, taking the bite from your fingers, his eyes never leaving yours, a playful look sparking in his gaze. “You’re trouble, you know that?”, he said, his voice low and warm as he brushed a crumb off your finger with his thumb.

“Maybe”, you whispered back, the warmth in your voice mirroring his, “but you don’t seem to mind”.

He smiled, his hands slipping back to your waist as he pulled you closer, his voice a murmur. “Not even a little”. And with that, he closed the space between you, pressing his lips to yours once again, the taste of sweetness lingering as he kissed you, the world outside fading away.

Before you even had a moment to fully realize his intentions, Dean’s hands slid to the sides of your thighs, gently urging them apart as he pressed closer, his gaze locked with yours. In one fluid, instinctive motion, he pushed down his boxers, his movements both sure and unhurried, the intensity in his eyes making your heart race.

Your breath caught as he eased himself back inside you, the connection rekindling in an instant, filling you with an exhilarating warmth. The familiar feel of him, so close and intimate, sent a wave of sensation through you, and a soft gasp escaped your lips as he held you steady, grounding you in the moment.

He paused for a beat, just looking at you, his expression one of quiet reverence and pure, unguarded affection. Then, he leaned in, his forehead pressed gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he began to move, each slow, deliberate thrust bringing you closer, drawing you back into the spell of his touch.

His thrusts were deep and deliberate, echoing the quiet urgency that filled the space between you. The sound of your wetness punctuated the air. You bit your lip, your breaths quick and mingling with his, each exhale a whisper of pleasure.

“Feels good?”, Dean’s voice was low, a touch of his usual cockiness laced with a huskiness that sent shivers down your spine. His gaze was intense, focused entirely on you, watching for every reaction, every flicker of pleasure that crossed your face.

Despite the lingering soreness, the sensation of him moving inside you was overwhelmingly right. You nodded, unable to keep back a moan. “Always does”, you managed to say, your voice breathy.

You placed your hands gently on his forearms, careful to avoid his bruises, your touch light and tender. His steady, almost lazy rhythm had you melting into him.

After a beat, Dean’s lips curled into a small, affectionate smile. “You know”, he murmured, his voice a soft rasp, “I could get used to this… coming home to you”.

Dean’s gaze dropped, lingering on the place where your bodies connected, a look of reverence mixed with undeniable desire crossing his face. His lips parted slightly, clearly captivated by the sight, when you broke the silence, your voice breathless, barely more than a teasing moan.

“Home to me… or in me?”, you asked, a playful smile curving your lips even as you struggled to keep your voice steady.

Dean’s eyes flicked back up to meet yours, and he let out a low chuckle, his hands tightening on your hips. “Both”, he murmured, his tone filled with that familiar cocky edge, softened by something deeper. “But especially to you”, he added, his voice low.

Dean leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Wanna come for me?”, he whispered, his words laced with both encouragement and a subtle challenge that sent a shiver down your spine.

As he spoke, his thumb found your clit, moving in gentle, deliberate circles, each touch perfectly timed to match the slow rhythm of his hips. The sensation was overwhelming, each movement building the pleasure within you to a fever pitch. You felt your breath catch, your body instinctively responding to the pressure and warmth of his touch.

Dean’s gaze stayed on you, his eyes filled with that familiar intensity, watching every change in your expression, every subtle sign of your pleasure building under his hand. His thumb continued its steady, insistent motion, guiding you closer and closer, his voice a quiet anchor in the haze of sensation. “That’s it… let go”, he murmured, his words grounding you even as you felt yourself nearing the edge.

Your hands gripped his arms, his name spilling from your lips as the pleasure crescendoed, building until it felt like it was going to break you apart in the best way. Finally, the wave crashed over you, and you surrendered, every part of you consumed by the release as he held you steady.

As your body relaxed into the aftermath of your release, you felt Dean's rhythm begin to stutter, his grip tightening on your hips as he approached his own peak. His breaths grew ragged, each thrust carrying a mixture of intensity and urgency. Watching you, so wrapped up in your pleasure, had driven him to the edge, and with a low, guttural groan, he finally let go.

He held onto you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he shuddered through his release, his grip gentle yet unyielding as he stayed close. His body softened against yours, his breathing slowly steadying as he came down. Neither of you moved for a while, caught in the quiet aftermath, wrapped in each other’s arms.

After a few moments, Dean lifted his head, his gaze soft and affectionate as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You’re something else, you know that?”.

You held him close, whispering, “I’m not doing anything”, your voice soft, almost shy. Your fingers traced delicately over his skin, brushing against the fresh scrapes and bruises that had reopened. The sight made you bite your lip in worry, a pang of guilt flaring as you gently scanned for any tissues or something nearby to help clean him up.

Dean noticed your shift in focus, catching the worried look in your eyes. He gently wrapped his hand around yours, stopping your search. “Hey”, he murmured.

Dean gave you a soft, reassuring smile, his thumb brushing gently over your hand as he murmured, “It’s alright. Really”. But you just sighed, the concern in your eyes unwavering as you looked him over.

“No more action tonight”, you said, trying to sound firm, though a hint of softness lingered in your voice. “And by that, I mean… no more of this”, you added with a pointed look, hinting at the intense night you’d just shared. “Let’s get this cake and just… go to bed”.

Dean couldn’t hold back a playful smirk, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “Are you trying to boss me around?”, he teased, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his arms, leaning against the counter as if daring you.

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “I mean it, Dean. You need some rest, and, well… I need to keep you in one piece, don’t I?”.

He chuckled, feigning defeat as he straightened up. “Alright, alright. No more action. But”, he added with a grin, “I’m holding you to that cake promise”.

You handed him the slice with a playful smile, and he accepted it, taking a bite before wrapping an arm around you. “Guess this isn’t a bad way to end the night”, he said softly, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

Together, you headed toward the bedroom, cake in hand, the warmth of his presence beside you making everything feel complete.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @globetrotter28

[andi-kook]

DEAD KIDS ✦ Chapter 2

SUMMARY: A group of university students kidnaps their rich batchmate for ransom. However, things take a darker turn when the new recruit grows a dangerous obsession with the captive and all hell breaks loose.

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Slow burn Yandere, Crime AU

WARNINGS: Not suitable for audiences below 18. Please do not engage with the story if you are underage. WATCH OUT FOR: dark and morally corrupt characters, foul language, mention of Catholicism, slut shaming and objectification of women, mention of inappropriate relationship between professor/student, mentions and depiction of “rape” and “rape fantasy” throughout the story, masturbation, threats, MC has an NSFW blog with hard kinks and fantasies, non consensual touching. Overall, this is a disturbing chapter – based on my standards – so if you are not comfortable with these topics, do not proceed. Inspired by the film, Dead Kids (2019).

TAGLIST: @hopeworldsupremacy @aliajomarie011 @ackercute @tatumrileyslover @ane102 @jjk174 @dontcallmeelle @merrygo1427 @taekritimin123 @r1r111 @gguksfilter @coralmusicblaze

If I didn’t tag you – either your blog doesn’t exist according to Tumblr or because you did not show your age in your blog. Thank you!

ANDI: I send my love to the beautiful souls who sent me asks about Dead Kids as well as these equally beautiful souls – @.taekritimin123 @.hellbornsworld @.tinytangerineangel @.namjesusdaughter – for commenting on Chapter 1. I cannot express just how much I appreciate your words. I would have tagged you directly, but I wasn’t sure if you would want that. But I wanted to show my appreciation.

WORD COUNT: 3K

“Why did you really want to take her?” Jungkook asks Namjoon as they sit and eat the ramen he cooked around the living area. Beside him, Yoongi and Hoseok are fast asleep, the latter clutching onto the former’s arm like it’s his plushie while the former has his head thrown against the headrest.

Namjoon, who is seated on the other makeshift sofa, gulps down the soup from his ramen before letting out a satisfied sigh and wipes his mouth with the back of his mouth. “How many times do we have to say that we kidnapped Y/N for ransom?”

“I’m not stupid, Namjoon,” Jungkook says. “We’re already tied to this shit until the ransom drop. The least you can do is be upfront on why you did this in the first place. I’m not taking a bullet for you or anyone.”

The buzz-cut haired man leans his back against the sofa, which unlike his premium one, is built from scratch by Jungkook using old wood and cases of beers around the warehouse. He gazes at Jungkook for a while, studying him while swimming in his own thoughts. The tattooed man wonders if Namjoon is contemplating telling him the truth. He wonders if the two sleeping men beside him also knew the truth.

They claim to have been friends since the fourth grade, but does time really make you know a person inside out?

“My father didn’t used to be the way he is now – corrupt. Growing up, I looked up to him because of how honest and upstanding he was as a cop. I knew he did some off-the-books shit, but he still had a moral compass, still had lines he didn’t cross. But then he met Y/N’s father, Kim Seokjin, when I was ten. Suddenly, everything changed,” Namjoon narrates, letting out a scoff as he shakes his head and rubs his palms on his baggy jeans. “He went from being a great husband and father to my mother and I to a complete asshole. We didn’t have religion but after meeting Kim Seokjin, we were suddenly Catholics, attending church with his family every Sunday. I was baptized and Kim Seokjin became my godfather. But the worst part was seeing him erase all the lines he drew and swore never to cross when he began to use his position as a detective and then eventually sergeant to now the chief of the entire police force in Seoul to protect Kim Seokjin and his criminal empire.”

Jungkook inhales deeply. “So, kidnapping Y/N is you taking on revenge against Kim Seokjin for corrupting your father? It is personal. It’s never about the money?”

“Of course, the money is important and integral to the plan. But yes, you are correct – I want to avenge my father from Kim Seokjin by hitting him where I know it will hurt the most: his only daughter, Y/N.”

“You promised that we are not going to hurt her,” Jungkook counters immediately.

Namjoon doesn’t say anything.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “If you do that – what makes you different than Kim Seokjin?”

“Why are you so protective of her?” Namjoon asks pointedly. “What? Just because she gave you a boner, you’re suddenly fucking in love with her? Don’t think I didn’t notice. We all did. Yoongi is right – drop the morally upright act, Jeon. You’re just as demented as we are. The moment you agreed to this plan, you’re just as fucked up.”

The sudden call out makes Jungkook turn crimson and Namjoon smirks, placing his leg over the other. “Don’t worry – unlike you, I don’t judge people. To each our own. If shit like that turns you on, then that’s on you. Why don’t you take the opportunity to act on it?”

His eyes widen, shocked and disgusted. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Jungkook knows exactly what Namjoon is talking about, but he is completely aghast at the insinuation.

The de facto leader only widens his smirk, pulling out his packet of cigarettes and lighter from the front pocket of his large, oversized coat. “You know what I’m talking about, Jeon. A pretty naked girl tied to a chair in your warehouse – it’s perfectly normal to feel aroused by such sight. We won’t judge you if you just get it over and done with.”

“You’re more than fucked up,” Jungkook hisses, face flushed and veins popping out on his neck. “I’m not going to fucking touch her.”

Namjoon lights the cigarette in between his lips. Then, he inhales, and smoke leaves his lips as he replies, “Why not? Y/N is a dirty slut who fucks her married professor with kids her age after church and dinner every Sunday night and more – I bet you all my cut that she’s not going to resist you because she’s probably into fucking someone having their own way with her. No, in fact, I can tell you she’s going to enjoy it.”  

Jungkook feels hot. Images of your naked trembling body and whimpering pleas filling his mind and ears.

“She has a blog, you know? A secret blog where she writes these fantasies and kinks she has. Posts her nudes on there too. Do you wanna know what is one fantasy she keeps on writing about?”

“No, I really don’t,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth.

“It’s a rape fantasy, Jungkook. What a fucking dirty slut she is, right? I bet she’s fucking wet right now at the thought, at the anticipation that one of us or all of us are going to have our ways with her. I bet she’s aching to be touched. I bet she wants you to rape her, Jungkook. So, why not just do it?”

He stands up in a jolt, hitting his knee on the makeshift table he made from old tires and steel roof and stammering some excuse that he needs to go the bathroom or air – he can’t remember. Jungkook finds himself in his room, back pressed against the door. His shirt sticks to his skin because of the sweat, and he takes it off, leaving it discarded on the floor. Namjoon’s words mixed with the flashing images of your perky nipples, smooth skin, sound of your whimpers, pleas, your smell – it makes him hard. Harder than he’s ever been.

Before he knows it, Jungkook is unbuttoning his jeans, pulling it down along with his boxers, his erection springing free. He spits on his palm before he begins stroking his length, shuddering at the touch, making his mouth dry. He presses the back of his head against the door, eyes closed as he imagines you on your knees – like you were with the professor – those lips around his shaft, head bobbing as you suck him dry. He imagines hearing your moans, imagines his dick hitting the back of your throat as you go deeper and beg him to fuck your mouth like a whore. Jungkook’s stroking himself faster. He imagines hearing you gag as he fucks your mouth, not stopping even when you’re clearly suffocating. Then, he cums, toes curling and a guttural groan escaping his lips.

As he comes back from his high, Jungkook stares at the white sticky substance covering his hand and cock. He just jerked off to you, a girl they kidnapped, and he knows it won’t be the last time.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Yoongi hisses at him the moment he comes back from his room, showered and changed into more comfortable clothes.

Jungkook deliberately ignores the stare of Namjoon and flops on the seat beside Hoseok who is eating the remaining ramen. “Why the fuck do you care?”

“I’m going to punch this kid, I swear to God,” Yoongi grumbles, rolling his eyes. “We’re making the ransom call, you dumb fuck. Or rather, you are.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “What? Why me?”

“Every one of us here has already encountered Y/N’s father at least once. The man remembers everyone he encounters. You’re the only exception,” Namjoon explains as he hands you a black phone. “It’s a burner phone, untraceable. I took it from my dad. And this is what you’re going to say – make sure you sound intimidating at least. Put it on speaker too.”

Namjoon places his phone on the makeshift table and Jungkook clicks his tongue. “The deal was you only use my warehouse. So far, you got me doing far more than that.”

“Do you want 25 million or not?” Yoongi asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Cos if you do, you better start calling Kim Seokjin.”

I’m going to punch you soon, Jungkook tells himself before he unlocks the phone and goes to the contact list where Kim Seokjin’s name is the only one listed. He takes a deep breath, going over the script on Namjoon’s phone before clicking on the contact and putting the call on speaker. The ringing sound echoes throughout the warehouse. The tension is palpable again, like it was back in the car earlier that night.

After a few more rings, Kim Seokjin’s voice fills the warehouse. It’s light but a hint of roughness and irritation is noticeable right away.

“Who is this?”

Jungkook licks his lips as he read the script in front of him. “We have your daughter. If you want to see her alive, prepare 100 million won and bring it to 2020 this Friday night. Otherwise, the next time you’ll see her is on the news, dead.”

Hoseok covers his mouth to keep himself from laughing while Yoongi stares hard at the phone. Namjoon, on the other hand, is relaxed on his seat, smoking.

“You sound young, boy,” Seokjin remarks. “You are not the first person to call me in the middle of the night asking for ransom. Do you really have any idea what you’re doing?”

Namjoon motions for him to repeat what he just said.

“If you want to see her alive, prepare 100 mill—,”

“Don’t you think I would be able to find my daughter faster than you could ever imagine? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

That triggers Jungkook. He’s been hearing that question – that discrimination his entire life and he’s sick of it. He’s fucking sick of it.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are. Either you give us 100 million in exchange for your whore of a daughter or I will personally make you watch as we do everything we want with her, make you watch as she begs you to make it stop, make you listen as she takes her last breath before I fucking slit her throat so deep her head nearly decapitates. You have until Friday night – and you better make sure the police don’t get involved. Don’t fucking ask me who the fuck you are again.”

He ends the call, gripping the phone tightly.

“What the fuck was that? Why the hell didn’t you stick to the script?! Are you trying to get us all a one way ticket to prison?!” Yoongi exclaims.

“Did you not hear what he’s saying? He caught on that we are fucking amateurs. I saved our asses – you should be fucking grateful,” Jungkook snaps, clenching his jaw. “If you didn’t want me to do the call, maybe the three of you should have done it yourselves. Fucking useless bastards.”

“Hey! What did you say?” Hoseok stands, pushing Jungkook by placing his hands on his chest. “Who are you calling useless, huh?”

“Who do you think?” He scoffs.

“Let’s fucking kill this son of a bitch, Hobi.”

“Gladly.”

“Enough,” Namjoon says sternly. “No one is going to kill anyone. Not amongst ourselves. What Jungkook did is right, Yoongi. Jungkook saved our asses. And you,” He turns to the long-haired man, glaring at him. “Mind your fucking tone and language with us. We’re not fucking useless. Remember that we recruited you. Not the other way around. If anyone should be grateful to someone, it’s you. We’re the reason you’ll get out of this shit hole.”

Nobody says a word.

“It’s getting late. Let’s gather here tomorrow after our classes. Just go about your usual days until the drop. Don’t be suspicious,” The de facto leader reminds. “Jungkook, keep an eye out, okay? Don’t forget to check in on our little friend from time to time. Make sure she’s still breathing.” He smirks as he pats his shoulder on his way out.

Yoongi and Hoseok follow suit. Once Jungkook hears Namjoon driving off his – rather his aunt’s – property, he resigns to the sofa behind him. He buries his face into his hands. Five days. You’ll be stuck with him at the warehouse for five fucking days. Granted, he has classes to attend to, so he won’t be at home all day, but he’s sure you won’t leave his mind wherever he goes.

The phone in his hand buzzes and he stares at the new notification on the screen – a text message from an unknown number. Jungkook unlocks the phone, goes to the messaging app, and clicks on the new text.

avirgins1ut on tumblr if you wanna read some things tonight

“Fuck you, Namjoon,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. However, when he goes to his room, grabs his shitty phone and opens his data – he installs the app despite knowing it will consume almost all the remaining gigabytes he has left.

Jungkook lies down on his bed and creates his profile. He doesn’t bother customizing it, going straight to your blog which is all black and hot pink. Instantly, he’s drawn to your profile picture – a simple mirror shot of you hiding your bare chest with your arms, head tilt slightly to the side and a black panty covering your cunt. He swallows the lump in his throat as he scrolls down, reading your pinned post:

“Hey. You can call me Angel. I’m 23 years old. This blog is filled with all my fantasies and kinks, sometimes my nudes. Feel free to send me yours too.

My kinks: cnc, free use, somnophilia, spit, slapping, marking, choking, daddy, and more.

My favorite fantasies: rape play, kidnapped, kept as sex slave, knife/gun play, forced gangbang, and more – why don’t you help me unlock those? DMs and asks open for all your threats and nudes.

Update: already got myself a master/daddy. Asks and messages are off.”

As he scrolls further down your blog, Jungkook doesn’t even realize he already has his hand wrapped around his dick as he masturbates to your the latest fantasy you wrote albeit months ago.

I can’t stop masturbating to this dark fantasy of mine – being raped by someone so brutally after they kidnap me. How they would keep me chained to the bed, always naked so they can easily rape me whenever and however they want. They would mock me whenever I would tell them to stop (“You shouldn’t have worn those skirts if you didn’t want to be raped. But you did. So, this isn’t rape. You were clearly asking for this like some depraved filthy bitch in heat. You’re fucking loving this, don’t you? Isn’t this what you want?”) and choke me as they pound into my wet and clenching pussy relentlessly. They would slap and spit on my face, abusing my cunt for hours until I’m full of theirs and their friends’ cum whom they called to let them have a taste of their new toy.

They would rape me day in and out until my body gets so used to it that I start asking for it – crying and begging to be fucked. “Shh, angel, daddy’s going to fuck you, okay? Don’t cry.” Slowly, I would forget all my autonomy and identity, wholly submitting myself to them because I was never my own in the first place – I was always theirs.

“Fuck, Y/N!” His entire body shakes as he cums again. Jungkook can’t stop – he wants to read more, see more as you posted a picture of your cum covered cunt at the end of the post and he imagines it’s his. But he gets a notification that he is out of data and Jungkook slams his phone on his bed, frustrated beyond bounds. He is still hard. He still wants to see more of you, read more of your fantasies.

Namjoon’s words echo in his mind. I bet she’s fucking wet right now at the thought, at the anticipation that one of us or all of us are going to have our ways with her. I bet she’s aching to be touched. I bet she wants you to rape her, Jungkook. So, why not just do it?”

And before he knows it – he is standing across from your limp body. You’re still unconscious – sack over your head, tied and bound on the metal chair. Jungkook walks towards you, gently touching your shoulders to see if you would react but you don’t. He bites his lower lip as his eyes fall on your naked chest. He reaches down to trace its curves before ultimately cupping one breast in hand, fondling, squeezing, twisting the nipple and pinching it. No response.

He begins to stroke himself as he continues to fondle your breasts. This is wrong, but why does it feel so good?

“F-Fucking slut, you’re asking for this,” Jungkook hisses through his teeth. He’s not going to last any longer – not when those perky nipples are so inviting and moments later, he cums all over tits. He’s panting, an exhilarating feeling he hasn’t felt before rising within him as he stares at your cum covered chest. He swallows, breathing heavily. Should he stop now or keep going? He doesn’t have data anymore, but he does have the real thing right in front of him. But you twitch and he jumps in surprise. Suddenly, the realization of his actions washes upon him. He feels a coil in his stomach. What has he done? He scrambles out of the room and dash straight to the bathroom where he extensively washes his hand and splashes cold water on his face. Then, he throws himself on his thin mattress, staring at the ceiling as he pants. Namjoon is right – he’s just as fucked up as they are.

CHAPTER 3 is coming soon.

TAGLIST: Wanna be part of Dead Kids’ taglist? Fill out this form and don’t forget to read the short note in order for me to tag you.

ANDI: I do not condone the behaviors exhibited in this story. The characters of Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok do not reflect who they are in real life. Fanfiction is just fanfiction. I have no schedule in writing – I write whenever I can. Please try to refrain from sending asks about updates (or at least be kind and polite about it) and let me know your feedbacks instead as they help a lot in motivation and inspiration! 🦉

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © ANDI-KOOK 2024. NO PART OF THIS STORY MAY BE REPRODUCED, TRANSLATED, MODIFIED, EDITED, REPOSTED AND THE LIKES WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION.

[sunshineneedsaplacetokeephernsfw]

Day 5 | Edging - Alfons

Kinktober masterlist

Gender-neutral reader (genitals not specified)

Word count: 900

18+, PWP, teasing, orgasm control, overstimulation, sub reader, fingering, minimal editing

“Please please please,” you pleaded as Alfons’s fingers sank back into you agonizingly slowly. Brushing up against just the right spot that only made you want more and squirm.

“My my, what a needy darling.”

His cruel fingers curled and rubbed and abused the spot that sent heat shooting through you. You inhale shakily as your eyes closed. Leaving you clueless to the glint in his eyes that watched your flushed face contorting in pleasure. Your chest heaving. Toes curling. Hips pushing up onto his hand only to freeze when it feels too good. A moan falling from your lips. So close. So close. Just a little more. You need it. You had to- 

A cold bucket of water metaphorically splashed down on you when his fingers suddenly went at a snail’s pace. Agonizingly slow. You stared between him and his hand. Your brow furrowed. 

“Why-?” 

“You didn’t want it to be over so soon, did you? Pleasure should be drawn out as much as possible. Especially to keep that pretty little head of yours from wandering again. Look how relaxed you are now.” 

That was the last thing your body was. Every muscle tensed with each stroke. You clenched needily around him. 

“I’d be more relaxed if you just let me.”

“If I let you what?” His eyes watched you closely. Tilting his hand up just slightly. Slowly speeding up.

You squirmed and held back the moan in your throat. Your hand twisted in the bedsheet.

“Cum.”

He tsked. “No need to be impatient. I promise I’ll get you there eventually.”

The pad of his finger applies pressure again and you gasp. Still sensitive from earlier. He built you up slowly. Gave you more and more. Getting you hot. Plunging until you felt the coil in you tighten again, before deliberately slowing his pace once more. Your body spasmed in need. Near panic flooded through it at your fading climax yet again. Screamed to get it back. You desperately rutted into his hand before you knew what you were doing.

He let out a breath of a laugh and held you down. You bit your pouting lip and glared at him. He smirked and twisted his fingers. A moan ripped from your throat.

“You really are adorable,” he said.

The pad of his finger circled the spot that made you gasp. He pulled nearly out then back in, just barely missing the spot.

You bit your lip again. “Fuck you.”

“Oh? Only if you have enough energy after we’ve satisfied you.”

The same curse was on the tip of your tongue, but you knew he’d just turn it against you. Not that it mattered because you couldn’t even remember it in a few seconds. Mind only filled with how each sensation made pleasure prickle and blossom across your nerves. At how much you wanted it.

He fingerfucked each thought out of you. Kept you on the edge each passing minute. Kept you needing him and drew every expression and sound out of you. Your chest heaved. Ears filled with your shallow breaths. Nose invaded by the intoxicating sweet smell from him. Speeding and slowing down just enough. So good it hurt.

You were close again. You bit your lip. Try to keep your body still. You needed to hide it. Praying he’d miss it and accidentally push you off the edge finally. Please don’t notice.

He was about to push the last time you needed. Almost there, then stopped before he could graze it.

Your lip quivered and tears rolled down your cheek.

He leaned in and kissed your face. His breath fanned across your skin.

“If you beg nicely enough, I might let you experience the peak of pleasure.”

You were so messed up you couldn’t remember how to beg. You struggled for words. His own mixing and muddling in your brain while your body screamed that you were losing it.

“P-please. I want to cum. I need it.” 

He continued slowly. Each movement teased as he sped up. Your desperate brain latched onto that promise.

“Please. Please. I’ll do anything. Just let me.”

He chuckled and leaned in. “You should never offer to do anything, my dear. Some villain might actually take full use of it.”

Thumb kneaded and pressed against your sensitive bit. Rubbing it and thrusting into you over and over again. So sensitive it took barely any time to get you there all over again. You twisted. Tears streaming down and begging.

“Please, Alfons. Please, please,” you chanted the word until you forgot the meaning

You try to rock into his hand but his other keeps you in place. Your hands grip and squeeze into the sleeves on his arm like an anchor.

Your high came crashing down on you like a tsunami. You screamed out as it washed over you and you made a mess.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You shuddered as you wrapped your arms around him. You clung to him as you rode it out. The aftershocks still made you moan as you rocked. His clean hand went to your head and stroked it soothingly. A strange contrast to how he tormented you just moments before. Your tear streaked face rested against him as you caught your breath. He held you.

He rubbed a piece of your hair. “See? I told you that you’d get there. You did good.”

[deobienthusiast]

drunk on woo | ksw.

• pairing: kim sunwoo x gn!reader

• word count: 1k words

• genre: non idol!sunwoo, suggestive, there isn’t really fluff, but there also isn’t really angst. it’s just, suggestive

you meet the perfect stranger on accident in a club, and now you keep coming back for more as he leaves you feeling more intoxicated than alcohol ever could

warnings: mature themes, no actual description of a sex scene, but there is call backs to sex, im hesitant to say 16+, probably would say 18+ just to be safe. i wouldn’t consider this something a minor should probably interact with so mdni (pls), mentions of alcohol

notes: i welcome you to the most spicy thing ive written. not sure if ill get more spicy or if ill fizzle out but this has been on my mind for a while and i needed to put it into words. so enjoy. this wasn’t proofread btw i just sent it to sana (@sanaxo-o) so she could be surprised😏😉

the barstool you occupied pulsated from the loud music pumping through the speakers. the drink you were holding shook slightly, leaking onto the sides of the cup from the bartender overfilling it. you weren’t worried about that, though. you already had a few drinks, a form of liquid courage if you will. this wasn’t a regular scene for you. you weren’t the party and drinking type, however you were drawn here for one reason and one reason only. kim sunwoo.

you knew he frequented this club, and he came here on fridays. after meeting on accident due to your friends dragging you here out of pity, you two met. he was enamored with your quiet and shy demeanor. he thought you were breathtaking. and honestly, you thought the same thing about him. his hair was jet black, shiny, and curly. it fell in front of his dark, boba-like eyes and had a bounce to it every time he moved. what really drew you in were his lips. full and pink, constantly being pulled between his teeth and licked by his tongue. you two danced together the whole night before he inevitably dragged you away from your friends, taking you back to his place.

he showered you in lust-filled kisses and filthy words hidden inside the sweetness of his voice. his lips, the same ones that drew you in, brought you over the edge repeatedly. whether it was through his words, or the skilled way he buried himself between your legs. you were a goner before he was even inside of you. the night went by quickly. when he dropped you off at your friend’s place the next morning, you were left wanting more. you never got a phone number, and you were desperate. you slept with other men after him, but it wasn’t the same. it didn’t feel the same. you craved him in ways that other men or your own toys couldn’t satisfy.

hence how you ended up back in the club, this time accompanied by no one. you needed another night (or more) with sunwoo. you told yourself it would be just to get him out of your head. deep down, you knew that wasn’t the truth, but you would cross that bridge when you got there. the lights were low, black lights decorating the walls, casting a purple haze across the crowd of sweaty bodies lumped together on the dance floor.

despite the amount of people in the building, it wasn’t hard for you to find sunwoo. the way he moved through the crowd, the way he danced, the way he moved his hips, was all subjective to him. he stood out, in a good way that is. his hair still black and shiny, but the black light was picking up a light color, turning the strands a bright purple color.

he put in highlights.

you remembered the silky smoothness of his hair between your fingertips. the way his hair bunched up between your fingers as you pulled on it. he loved it. he told you to pull harder.

you grabbed the drink on the counter and downed it, pushing yourself off the barstool. the liquid courage had you feeling bold, but who knew how long it would last, especially around him. you made your way through the crowd, bumping into people who didn’t bother to say anything, because they were too busy dancing offbeat to the club music. he had his back to you, keeping his distance as he danced with a girl and her friends. when you were just a foot away from him, you tapped his shoulder. the tap was enough to alert sunwoo as he turned.

his eyes widened as a smirk made its way to his face. his full lips pulled up slightly revealing his pearly white teeth that glowed under the black lights. with how close you were now, you could see hints of blonde in his hair, the light color attracting the black light. sunwoo wasted no time in grabbing your waist with his large hands, the same way he did in his bed, holding your waist in place as he spoke above your high pitched whines. if you keep moving, i’ll punish you.

the words echoed in your head, making you shudder as he pulled you into him, turning you around just before you make contact so your back is pressed against him. he moved your hips in time with his, feeling him move one hand to completely circle your waist, while the other moved up to tilt your head to the side. the music made everything he did more intense, before you felt his plush lips plant themselves on the exposed skin of your neck. you gasped.

i missed you.

his words muffled against your neck, just barely being loud enough for you to hear. you swallowed hard, feeling your throat go dry. he continued peppering kisses on your neck before he found a particular spot he was fond of, sinking his teeth lightly into your skin. you whimpered at the feeling of his tongue gliding back and forth on the mark he just left on you.

i missed those pretty sounds. couldn’t stop thinking about how good you were, how sweet you tasted.

you felt yourself heat up at the thought of living rent free in the kim sunwoo’s mind. his thoughts poured out of him, letting you know he hadn’t taken anyone else since your night together, getting himself off to the thought of you and your pretty sounds as he put it. he was slowly driving you crazy, making you dizzy at the touch. he knew the effect he had on you. spinning in his arms, he lifted his head quickly before you pulled him into a deep, yet messy kiss. teeth clashing, tongues colliding, and groans being shared. all of it being laid out in the vicinity of the club without a care in the world other than getting lost in each other.

when he pulled away, you whimpered, feeling yourself rub your thighs together at how worked up you were. sunwoo chuckled as he laced his fingers with yours, pulling you through the crowded dance floor to the exit.

don’t worry baby. gonna take good care of you.

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 18

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Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: The Darkness Of The Heart

Notes: /

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter:  18/47

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A gentle nudge to your shoulder drew you from sleep’s embrace. Another nudge and an annoyed groan fled your mouth. It wasn’t until the Monk’s voice was right into your ear, speaking your name, that you jolted awake. It was so effective that you almost fell out of the cot. You looked at him with a wide-eyed stare, then narrowed your eyes when seeing his satisfied smug grin.

He put your cloak down on your cot. “If you want to practise the sword, now would be a good time to get up.”

You doubted that the sun was even up yet, it still felt quite dark in the tent. “Is it even dawn?”

“Do you want to wait until Father can forbid it before we leave?” he deadpanned.

Oh? Was this another one of his risks?

“We spoke about you taking too many risks last night.” you reminded him.

“I remember.” He just wouldn’t stop taking them apparently.

You stood up and put on the cloak. He didn’t even use a rope to bind your wrists, showing once more how strong his trust in you had become. He moved the fabric of the tent’s exit just a little to see if there were not too many witnesses around. Your eyes fell on something on the ground just outside the tent, and before he could stop you, you knelt and grabbed the folded parchment.

The Monk’s expression changed instantly. He could pick up the Sky Folk scent it carried.

You looked up at his face to see if he would mind if you unfolded it, he gave a nod down at the parchment in your hands and you unfolded it.

    ~“The offer still stands, Dear.”~

    The Monk could read what was written too, he did not seem angry, just downcast. It was that hidden sadness that you could see in his eyes that made you crumple up the parchment in your hand. A slight frown creased his forehead at your action, he blinked as those weeping eyes set themselves on yours. You held the crumpled up parchment up for him to take. Slowly he plucked it from your hand, looking down at it until he threw it into the tent, it rolled until it hit the foot of his cot. The Monk touched your hand as if he wanted to hold it to walk out of the tent together, but he changed his mind on the last second and took hold of your wrist instead to lead you out. There weren’t many paladins awake yet, and they knew better than to question their Weeping Brother as to why he was up so early and heading into the woods with you. He didn’t take you far, in the dense forest it was easy enough to gain discretion.

He handed you his longsword, keeping the short one for himself. “This ‘Gareth’,” he spun his sword once, “- is persistent.”

You spoke without much thought. “He’s a Fey knight, it does not surprise me that he believes I need to be saved from Red Paladins.”

The Monk looked at the grass for a moment. “My Brothers will not harm you.”

It wasn’t something you were sure about. “Gareth told me that your ‘Brothers’ speak of me inappropriately. He has spend time disguised as a paladin back in the monastery, he heard them talk.”

It seemed to surprise the Monk, a flash of concern broke through on his face. “Has one of them ever… when I was absent…”

You knew what he was trying to ask. “No. I think they fear the punishment for it.”

His lip twitched up, eyes fixed on the grass again, voice low. “As they should.”

“Are we going to practise, or continue to talk until Father Carden notices your absence?” You came closer and tapped your sword against his.

With a quick motion, he put his sword against the side of yours and stepped a little to your side. “Very well. Let me see what you have remembered of what I taught you last time. If you fight as bravely as you did against the sellsword who attacked us, this will be interesting to see.”

With two taps against your sword, he invited you to start the spar. First you began slowly, letting yourself get used to the weight of the sword again. With each lesson your movements became smoother, and he often gave useful advice to get your skill to a higher level. You were grateful for the lessons, the praise he gave in between the advice and his stern corrections helped to motivate you further. At some point you made a movement with your arm that he didn’t like to see, he halted the spar and came closer to explain exactly why it had been dangerous to move your arm in such a way. He took hold of your arm to do so, pointing to where it exposed your weak spots if you would continue to move your arm wrong.

“Stop trying to wield it like an axe.” He barely held in a chuckle.

You snorted a laugh, unable to stay serious. It was your quiet laughing that made him more relaxed and open as well. He was trying so hard to stay serious whilst he showed you the better ways to move your arm. And by having him stand so close, you caught his Fey scent again, it was such a good scent that it was terribly distracting. He was explaining something to you, one hand one your elbow, his other on your back a little. You couldn’t focus on what he was saying. How could that scent be so tempting? You wished you could smell it all the time.

It slipped out of your thoughts. “You smell so good.”

It was the truth. It made you want to keep breathing it in deeply. The Monk stood half against you and a reddish tint crept over his nose and cheeks. The poor man hadn’t expected to receive a compliment, certainly not now. Your conscience gnawed at you mercilessly. His appearance pleased your eyes, and the way he made certain that you were fed, cared for and healthy drew you in further. To another it may not have meant much, but to you it did. Many a times you were left to starve, left to suffer through your injuries and illnesses alone, but now someone cared enough to help. If your paths had not been so far apart, things could have been very different. If he had not been a Monk, if his loyalties had not been to the Church… it could have been different. And no matter how hard you tried, that thought lingered in your mind whilst feeding pointless hope. You never thought that one day you would feel guilty for being attracted to your own spouse, but you did. But the rift between you was enough to let your heart keep it’s distance.

You shook your head at your own boldness. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I don’t know why I keep noticing it so much.”

He tried to find an explanation. “Perhaps you are taking notice of the scents around you more now that you know what those of the Ash Folk can do.”

It was the ideal excuse to hide behind. “It must be.”

He hadn’t moved a muscle, and no matter how hard he tried not to, his eyes fixed on your face.

“Have you ever picked up on a scent that you really liked?” you asked.

“I have.” his voice had gotten deeper.

The tone that carried his answer made you look down and away. You knew he had said once that he had never noticed a scent quite like yours before, but he never truly admitted to liking it, it felt so personal.

The compliment had made him brave enough to return it. “I find your scent quite intriguing.”

You looked down at his hands and how his fingers had softly curled around your arm. When your eyes locked on his, you held your breath. Three seconds of utter silence felt so much longer.

The Monk let go of your arm and took a few steps back. “Let’s uhm… continue.”

Now you were not the only one distracted, his reactions to your movements were slower. He was thinking and you were dying to know what he was thinking about. When you made a certain move with the sword, he reacted quicker again, too quick. The short sword cut the skin on the top of your hand, you yelped from the unexpected pain. He stopped the spar immediately and reached for your hand to see the damage. What happened next shocked you both. The shock of the injury ran it’s course through your veins, and when he touched your hand a bright green light flashed before your eyes. The Monk let out a pained shout and he let go of your hand immediately, taking a large step back while holding his hand. A pained grimace was set on his face, confusion washed over him. You forgot about the cut on your hand when you saw the small burn on his.

“Fey Fire…” you breathed out.

He pushed his own shock aside and came closer again. “Show me your hand, you’re bleeding.”

“No.” You held your hand close against your stomach, shielding it from him. “I just burned you. I can’t believe I did that…”

He had felt the heat of it, for the first time in his life a flame had burned him.

It was the first time these flames had been created from within yourself and not by using normal fire as fuel for them. It was surreal, you kept your hand clenched to your body, fearing more damage could be caused if you didn’t. You worried for a bad reaction to come from him, it was a feeling of dread ingrained in your mind from living with Cassian and Aldith.

You spoke carefully and quiet, “I still have some ointment back in the tent, I’ll put it on the burn.”

Such concern you showed him. It tore at him that a hint of fear was in your eyes.

The warm timbre in his voice was meant to draw you in, “Come here.”

He snaked a hand around your wrist, plucking your hand away from the one you were trying to hide from him. Blood covered the cut. There was no fear in him whilst he examined the wound. “It does not look deep, the blood makes it look worse than it is. But it must be treated, a few sutures should help the healing.”

“I’m sorry.” you uttered quietly. “I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t even know I could.”

The Monk was still looking, but even without looking at his face you just knew that it wasn’t your hand he was looking at. “Fear not, I know. We shall speak of this after I clean the cut.”

“But your hand-” you protested.

“Is still attached.” he deadpanned and took you by the arm.

You couldn’t believe he took it so lightly. “If I can burn your hand, I could set you on fire too.”

The jest fell out of him, “Is that a threat?”

“What-…no!” It took you a second to realize he he wasn’t being serious. “Ugh.”

The Monk walked you back to the camp. “I ask you not to speak of it until we are back in the tent.”

That was odd… “Why?”

He was evasive. “Others do not need to overhear this.”

You pushed on, “Isn’t that what Father Carden wants? For the paladins to know that I do possess this magic?”

He send you a look that told you that this wasn’t up for discussion. You rolled your eyes at his tendency to withhold the information you tried to pull out of him.

          The sun had cast it’s light upon the camp, Red Paladins swarmed around the place like ants. A few had seen the Monk and you emerge from between the trees, but only one was brave enough to voice his thoughts out loud when the Monk was close enough to him.

“Brother,…” The paladin was shocked by the fact that the Monk had been in the forest alone with you, this along with the rumors had made him draw the wrong conclusion. “It is a sin.”

The Monk did not take the interference well.

“What I do with my wife is not your concern. Is that understood?” he gritted out angrily. “Father entrusts me with her. Do you doubt his decision?”

The paladin knew better than to talk against Father Carden. “No, Sir. Apologies, Sir…”

The Monk stared him down, watching the paladin bend his head down in submission, then he started walking with you again.

“Why not just tell that paladin that he was wrong to think so?” you whispered so only he would hear.

For him the answer was simple. “We owe him no explanation.”

Fortunately, no other paladins bothered to ask questions and you found yourself back in that tent in a timely manner. The Monk opened the wooden chest and grabbed what he needed, needle and thread, to treat the cut.

“Sit.” He gestured to your cot, whilst grabbing a clean rag and wettened it in the bucket of water present in the tent.

You plopped down on the cot, he took seat on his own cot and leaned over to treat your hand. With a concentrated frown set on his face, he cleaned away the blood before using the needle and thread to suture the wound shut. It didn’t need many sutures, just a few were enough, he then took some of the ointment left and put it on the wound. Then he covered it with a clean rag. The one in the palm of your other hand had just healed enough to leave it uncovered and now you had to wear a bandage around the other one. Great.

He saw the pout on your lips, his fingertips touched your knuckles lightly. “Forgive me, I should have been more careful.”

You looked up to see the remorse in his eyes. “I forgive you. It wasn’t done on purpose, or was it?”

The response he had was worth it, he actually seemed to believe that you doubted it was an accident.

“Of course not!” he said it like you had accused him of the worst.

You snorted a small laugh at the sight of the color draining from his face. Only then did he realize it had been a jest. He let out a disgruntled noise, covering his mouth with his hand for a moment.

You reached for the ointment that he had set down beside him on his cot. “My turn. Your hand, please?”

The Monk’s hand was restless until he placed it in yours. “I have never been burned before.”

The only fire that could hurt him, was the one created by the one he was drawn to. Like a moth to a flame and he could not be more intrigued by it.

You put his hand down on your knee, freeing your hands to apply the ointment. It was interesting to see how comfortable he was to keep his hand on your knee, palm down, something the vow undoubtedly forbade. “I never burned anyone before.”

His mouth twitched as it tried to fight of the smile. “I have a theory. If you will hear it?”

You gave a nod, focused on smearing the ointment on the burn.

He couldn’t stop looking at the way you worked so carefully. “You have spend your whole life hiding your nature, weakened by the torment your father and half-brother put you through, and now that you have gotten stronger this power is awakening. The more the Fey allow the Hidden into their lives, the stronger their influence grows.”

You didn’t look up from your work. “Is this where you tell me that I am becoming corrupted by evil?”

“No.” he said. “I want you to be careful. Do not let Father perceive you as a threat. We cannot risk this happening at a more unfortunate time.”

“An unfortunate time? You mean me setting this camp aflame?” you guessed.

It was exactly what he had meant. “Yes.”

He had a point, as long as you could not control this power you risked setting everything on fire, even your own cot and clothes.

You nodded a little in understanding. “Do you think you could find out why Father Carden is so interested in Fey Fire?”

The answer was a little slow to come, he must have been thinking about it. “Perhaps.”

“Is he ill?” you asked. “Is that why he hopes my magic will be able to heal people?”

He shook his head. “He is not ill.”

“I hope he doesn’t expect me to set things on fire. I won’t. Never.” you said. “Does your hand feel better?”

He had forgotten about the burn because of the direction the conversation had taken, his eyes dropped to his hand resting rather boldly on your knee.

The Monk lifted his hand off of your knee, opening and closing it a few times. “It helps.”

You looked at the lantern standing on the ground a little further away. “If I can create Fey Fire, why can’t you? You are full-blooded.”

He was open about the matter. “I cannot allow myself to dabble with the entities the Fey pray to. Listening to them is worse enough.”

You got up and went to pick up the lantern, the candle was still burning inside of it. “By staying away from their influence, you kept yourself from your heritage and the power it could give you…”

The Monk stood up, eyes fixed on that lantern in your hands. “I do not want you to practise your magic again, not until I permit it.”

“What?” You frowned strongly. “Why not?!”

He disliked that you questioned his decision. “You do not know how to control it.”

You fired back, “How can I learn to control it otherwise?”

His tone grew cold. “You will not attempt to use magic. That is an order.”

Your blood began to boil. “I’m not one of your red Brothers that you can command!”

The Monk came closer and took the lantern from your hands, perhaps he feared you’d throw it at his head or cause the flame to transform. “Would you prefer I put the shackle on you again to ensure you follow that order?”

From the blazing fury in your eyes, he knew it had been a wise decision to get that lantern away from you.

Your voice reached the same low and warning tone, “You can try. There’s not enough ointment left in that bowl to heal all the burns I might cause.”

His eyes darted over your face, a daring smirk grew on his lips. “Was that a threat?”

Arrogance dripped from your voice, “Do I need to repeat it for you?”

He put the lantern down. It didn’t draw the response out of him that you had expected, the Monk’s hands moved fast to cup your face, his thumbs rested on your cheeks. Your whole body went rigid.

“You do not fear me.” His brow arched, his gaze darted over your face with intrigue.

He saw your confidence grow day by day. And what a pleasure it was to see that small curling of your lips whilst nearly snarling at him. He always enjoyed a challenge and this was no different. A gentle heart and eyes of fury, he could not look away.

You could barely speak, “Should I?”

His answer was a breathy, “No.”

The feeling of his thumbs lightly beginning to stroke your cheeks was causing your hands to tremble. The fury in you was extinguished so easily at the sign of affection, oh how you craved for a gentle touch. You reached up and touched his right wrist, curling your fingers around it.

“Brother!” Someone called out from outside the tent.

The Monk let go and stepped back right away. He called out for the paladin to enter the tent.

The paladin came into the tent and tilted his head down respectfully. “Brother. Father has asked for your presence.”

The Monk gave a nod and set one step in the direction of the paladin.

The paladin lost some confidence. “He has asked for the girl too.”

That stopped him in his tracks. “Did he say why?”

“No, Sir.” The paladin said.

You send a questioning look at the Monk, who then proceeded to ask the paladin for the rope he had hanging on the belt at his hip, he used it to bind your wrists together and you let out an annoyed sound. He led you along and out of the tent with him, following the paladin who brought you to Father Carden.

The priest explained the situation to the Monk. “Word has been received, Abbot Odel is on his way to the monastery, we must return there at once, he has been send by the Holy Father to discuss our plans.”

Neither of them looked happy to hear that they had to return to the monastery already.

“How long?” The Monk asked.

The priest mumbled, annoyed by the news, “Not long. A day or perhaps two. The girl will be taken along, we cannot afford leaving her here for the Lord of Ravenwick to steal her.”

The Monk was glad to hear it. “Yes, Father.”

“Take her to the wagon.” The priest ordered some of the paladins passing by.

They took you by the arms and walked you towards the wagon whilst Father Carden began to discuss the matters at hand with the Monk.

          They had put you on the back of the wagon as the convoy rode to it’s destination. With what happened previously, you were far more alert to your surroundings as were the paladins. The convoy passing the burned wagon in the distance did little to calm the nerves. Another route was being taken, perhaps to avoid another ambush on the route they were known to take. If you had known you would be traveling again, you would have hidden the dagger inside your jacket, now it still sat in the chest back in the Monk’s tent. The only little comfort you felt was when you noticed how the Monk often looked back at the wagon whilst he rode beside Father Carden, he was determined to keep track of it’s whereabouts. This route felt longer and the road was often a rocky one, that changed when it reached the grassy hill, you could see the dark green of the forest below. Suddenly a paladin on horseback galloped to the front of the convoy where Father Carden and the Monk rode, they stopped to hear why.

“Father! I saw something!” The paladin pointed to a particular spot down below in the forest. “Fire and huts!”

You sat upright to look at them.

“Fey.” Father Carden said out loud, halting the entire convoy and looking at the Monk. “Send the men.”

The Monk didn’t seem too keen on that plan, “The men and I could return here later, once you are safe in the monastery along with the girl, Father.”

The priest looked back at the wagon for a second, than spoke to the Monk again, “Then remain by the wagon. I will lead the men down myself.”

His words had had the opposite effect. Had he offended Father?

The Monk protested. “Father-”

Father Carden refused to listen. “It is time she sees what must be done to save these lands from evil’s corruption.” He called out to the ones riding the wagon. “The girl will watch how we handle evil.”

Your eyes widened in horror, and when the priest saw it he beckoned for two paladins to take you off of the wagon and hold you under control, something the Monk clearly didn’t like.

“Father, she is not ready to see this.” The Monk tried to reason.

The priest did not appreciate the resistance. “Her presence among us has cost us many of our soldiers, she will prove herself an asset to our cause and face what we fight against every day!”

You took a step back at the horrifying idea that the priest wanted to you to watch this cleansing, the grip of the paladins on your arms got stronger. Part of you wanted to stay quiet and play obedient, just because it would buy you more time. The other part wanted to spit in the priest’s face. And then there was the part of you that had grown attached to the Monk and thinking of leaving him made your stomach twist.

The Monk tried again, “Father-”

Father Carden was out of patience. “She will stay here and watch what happens to those who worship evil!” He gave the command to the paladins. “Cover her mouth so she cannot warn them of our presence.”

The priest didn’t trust that you would not scream your lungs out to try and save the Fey. A gag was wrapped around your mouth not a moment later by one of the paladins.

The Monk’s voice got louder, “Father- ”

“Do not embarrass me!” Father Carden barked at him. “She may be your wife, but I command what happens to her.”

Hearing it was infuriating, you were just another pawn in his plan. The priest was looking at the Monk in expectation who bend his head down in submission before following the priest. Six of the paladins stayed behind to keep you under control and guard you. You watched in silent disbelief how the Monk rode with Father Carden, and the rest of the paladins, down into the forest where the paladin had seen the Fey camp. The moment you looked off to the side, the paladin holding your right arm grabbed you by the throat and forced you to look ahead and down into the forest.

It was eerily calm for a while, minutes were passing by, the place was quiet. It took you a moment to notice the movement between the trees. And then the screams began, cutting through the air like glass into skin. Tormented screams betrayed what was happening down below. You forced your eyes away again when you began to notice figures moving, you didn’t want to see the slaughter when they would run out from between the trees into the open areas in the forest. The paladins holding you wanted to force you to watch and you struggled against their hold, they pushed you down to your knees to overpower you. It ripped your soul apart and sickened you to your stomach to know what was happening. With a strong hold on your neck and head they forced you to keep looking at the chaos of the fire and people moving in the forest as they ran for their lives. The furious whispers of the Hidden responded to the hopelessness inside you, then you felt something. The ropes around your wrists crumbled apart into ashes, you had barely caught a glimpse of the green sparks that were responsible. The Hidden were giving you the chance to fight back…

By being on your knees, it put you at an advantage to steal the sword from the paladin’s hip on your right. They hadn’t seen that your wrists were free and reacted too late to keep you under control. With the pommel of the sword you struck one of them in the groin, then used your elbow to do the same to the other one who held your left arm. The other paladins had not been paying enough attention, they must have believed that two of them would be enough to contain one bound Fey woman. You shoved the one on your right to the ground, into the path of the ones rushing towards you, one even tripped over him. And then you ran and stole one of their horses to ride down into the forest below.

The scent of fire filled the air, the warmth of it noticeable against your skin whilst galloping between the trees. You commanded the horse to halt when a man of the Tusk Folk and a young Tusk girl came running into your direction. At first they were understandably frightened, you dismounted and beckoned for them to come closer.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here to help.” You held out the reins of the horse. “Take the horse. Leave this place.”

A paladin who had been chasing them emerged behind them, causing them to quickly run into your direction. The paladin managed to grab hold of the little girl and the father struggled with him to save her. You hurried to them, when the paladin saw your intention to lunge at him with the sword he let go of the girl to avoid losing his head and the sword cut into his arm instead. The paladin turned on you, considering you the more urgent matter to deal with. He was enraged by the wound you had caused him, his arm was bleeding profusely.

“Go!” you shouted at the father. “Get out of here!”

After a moment of hesitation, the father grabbed his child and mounted the horse, riding off together at a fast pace. You had to duck down when the paladin aimed for your head, clearly he didn’t care if Father Carden wanted to keep you alive or not. And perhaps this would be seen as too high of a betrayal in the priest’s eyes to let you live after all. All you knew for certain now was that the paladin was out for blood, your blood. Your training had paid off, before it you wouldn’t have been able to stand your ground as well. He swung his sword at you aggressively, you tried to stay calm to parry the attacks. Then his fist struck the side of your head, an action you hadn’t anticipated as it happened so fast. As you hit the ground, vertigo overtook your sight and stomach momentarily, it had disoriented you. When you felt his hands wrap around your throat it became increasingly difficult to focus on how to defend yourself. He began to try and strangle you, kneeling over you to keep you on the ground. Panic spread inside as you tried to fight him off. Your nails set into his inner elbow, pinching it hard through the sleeve, it began to loosen his hold. The paladin shocked when an arrow landed into his skull and he came crashing down on you. Blood poured down into the grass next to your shoulder, you tried to push him off. The paladin was pushed off of you by the Monk, who then proceeded to take hold of your arm and help you up to your feet. You tore yourself free from his hands, hating how unsteady your legs felt and how much your vision was still circling. Your eyes fell on the dead paladin, then rose to the weeping ones staring at you. He had just killed one of his red brothers… The screaming continued up ahead, filling the atmosphere of the forest with a heaviness that was suffocating.

When he saw your eyes, as you heard and saw the chaos, it was like staring right into the depths of his own conscience. His blood turned to ice inside his veins, freezing his body so it could not move. He did not partake in the cleansing now, he had been avoiding it for some time. And when Father expected him to find the Feys and their camps in the woods, he had done so slower than he once did. The reluctance had grown inside of him, like vines wrapping him in a suffocating hold, and now they were there to hold him in their embrace and force him to face what they had been trying to tell him.

He came closer. “You should not be here.”

Your attention locked on him. “Why?” Your fury burned. “Afraid I’ll see you murder the innocents who are trying to run for their lives?”

The sound of horses approaching made him spring into action. The Monk quickly took back the arrow from where it was lodged in the dead paladin’s head and threw it into a bush along with the sword you had stolen from the paladin. Mere seconds later the paladins, that you had fought yourself free from on the hill, rode towards you with the wagon in tow. They saw their dead red brother on the ground.

“Brother Piers…” A paladin said mournful.

The Monk looked at you, worried that you might tell them how their red brother had met his demise. When he was somewhat certain that you would not tell them the truth, he took you by the arm and brought you to the wagon.

“Why is she not up the hill?!” he asked them, quite agitated.

A paladin cleared his throat, embarrassed to admit, “She ran off.”

By their answer it was clear that you had dented their pride by doing so. Good. One of them came and handed the Monk a rope, which he used to bind your wrists. You didn’t like to be touched by him now, nor by any of the others, not when the rest of them were slaughtering Fey up ahead. Having been forced to watch from up the hill… it had broken something inside of you. You leaned away from the Monk when he walked you to the wagon, which he noticed. And when he tried to help you up the wagon you pulled away and climbed up on your own. It was so obvious that he wanted to say something but couldn’t because they would hear it. He stepped away and returned to Goliath who was patiently waiting for his rider.

“Follow me to the monastery.” he loudly commanded the paladins as he walked by.

One of them voiced their concern, “But Father said-”

The Monk whipped around to look at him, his voice like thunder. “Do as you are told!”

Any further protests died in their throat. The wagon turned and rode away from the slaughter that was still ongoing. You watched how the flames became nothing more than a distant light.

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~◇~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  At late midday the wagon arrived at the monastery. All throughout the ride, you were able to overhear the paladins riding in the front of the wagon. They were speaking of the Monk’s disobedience towards Father Carden and how the priest would possibly respond after realizing his Weeping Monk had actually left the battlefield. You hated how concerned you could be about someone who was part of this army of cruel beasts. Conflict fought a war inside of you, your growing attachment to the Monk against your fury for his part in the war on the Fey. But what you felt now was numb. If only you could have saved more than two, had they even survived?

Just like before, they brought you to the Monk’s room and they had removed the rope from your wrists before pushing you inside. You crawled onto the bed right away to lay on your side under the sheets. The shock combined with the vertigo made for an awful mixture, small waves of nausea came and went and you hoped it would pass soon with laying down. Quite some time later the door opened and the Monk stepped into the room.

His desire to scold you for being reckless was gone when he saw you now. You were curled up in his bed, facing the wall, and by the Hidden’s unintelligible whispers he knew that scolding you would be cruel after what Father had forced you to see.

The hand being placed on your shoulder made you jolt up and recoil from it, you moved as far away from him on the bed as you could. You were quiet, because there were no kind words on your tongue to speak, not now, not when the screams were still ringing in your ears.

He mistook your reaction as the result of nearly being strangled to death earlier. “It’s alright. You are safe.”

His eyes were drawn to the bruise on your temple, you could tell.

The moment he almost touched your temple, you recoiled again and the fury exploded. “Don’t you touch me!”

He reacted as if you had physically struck him and kept his hands to himself. You got out of the bed, swinging the sheet into him to prevent him from even trying to stop you. The Monk rose to his feet, you backed away from him. The shock was still running through your veins like liquid ice, making you feel physically sick.

When he tried to get closer you warned him, “Don’t!” Your rage fought the forming tears back, your voice was stronger than you had expected it to be. “Are you so desperate for the love of a father, who promises to love you but only once you are worthy of it in his eyes? How much more must you destroy before he is pleased?!?”

His eyes snapped away from you, hearing it had hurt. “I understand that you are upset-”

“‘Upset’?” It was useless to try and hide your anger towards him, your glare would have given it away regardless. “The man you so loyally and fiercely defend, forced me to watch the slaughter of Fey. ‘Upset’ is not the word I would choose to describe what I am feeling right now!”

He swallowed hard, fearing the answer ahead, “How would you describe it?”

You clenched your hands shut. “If I had not known you as well as I do, I would try to murder you.”

The answer took him off-guard. Still he remained oddly calm, aware that anything could worsen the storm about to come over his being. The Monk’s voice had lost all it’s strength. “I know…”

You swallowed down the lump forming in your throat and looked up at the ceiling to try and keep the tears back, “It haunts your sleep. It haunts your daily thoughts. I asked you once to leave this life behind, to leave with me, and you chose not to. Is your love for Father Carden so strong that you will destroy everything for him, even yourself?”

He looked in the direction of the door, considering to leave the room.

It angered you to see it. “So brave, but when it comes to facing the truth you want to run.”

His attention returned to you, his silence was deafening. You wanted him to say something, you needed him to say something.

You pointed at the door, tone growing colder, “Is that how you earn your salvation, by blood and ashes? By blindly following scriptures written by people who are terrified of those who are not like Manbloods? The Fey were born in these lands just like them! What gives anyone the right to decide someone doesn’t belong in a world that they were born in?!”

Finally, he spoke, “You do not understand. You have not read the scriptures.”

You snapped. “Keep hiding behind them, keep letting them cloud your eyes and mind, perhaps one day you will not be so tormented!”

His eyes were unreadable. He was tensing up. The knock on the door that followed nearly made him jump.

“Brother! Father has arrived and demands to see you.” A paladin called out.

The Monk looked at you once more, but you turned away from him. The door opening and closing again told you that he had left.

            The door opened again mere minutes after he had left, paladins walked into the room and roughly dragged you out of it and into the hallway. Father Carden walked up with the Monk in tow who looked as confused as you were. The paladins shoved your forward, sending you to the floor and falling to your knees. They had earned themselves a glare from the Monk but he remained silent.

“You attacked our men to flee into the woods.” The priest began, then looked at the Monk. “Both of you have disobeyed me.”

The Monk tried to explain himself. “Forgive me, Father. I-”

Father Carden held up his hand, silencing him. A grimace on his face. “Fortunately, I am forgiving. Only one of you will be send to the scourge for disobeying.” He looked at you. “And you will decide who.”

“What?” You couldn’t believe what was being asked.

Not even the Monk had expected to hear this.

Father was trying to see where your loyalty was. And after today, not even he knew what answer to expect.

“Choose.” Father Carden said threateningly.

Your horrified expression was noticed by the Monk who gave a discreet nod your way, signaling that it was alright for you to send him to the scourge. Everyone was looking at you, waiting for the answer. One of the paladins holding your arms was tightening his grip and you glared at him briefly before looking at the priest. This twisted game he played… You gave them your answer,

      “Send me.”

Taglist:

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Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story. Using this old list from the previous fic.

[lunarw0rks]

Through The Ashes | Chapter Three

Summary: You've been given an offer to join the 141 Task Force. Upon taking it, you find yourself ensnared with the mysterious masked man who won't take his eyes off you.

Warning(s): explicit content (18+), p in v sex, unprotected sex, no aftercare/no comfort

A/N: This is my first time writing smut, so I hope it's decent. There will probably be more in this fic later on... | Word Count: 2.4k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ prev. chapter | next chapter // requests | ao3 | playlist

The Point Of No Return

The look of disappointment written on Price’s face drew you in.

“It’s been silent for two days. Nothing on El Sin Nombre.” He was like a ticking bomb, ready to explode and demolish anything in his path. “Keep working at this. Find out anything you can, I want answers.”

You’d gotten used to the action-packed days, wake-up calls in the middle of the night when there’s new information. But to suddenly hear nothing on the person you’ve been tailing for months? Strange.

In a way you missed the chaos; twiddling your thumbs was going to be the death of you.

Perhaps you were right, and the tunnels really were a dead end or a distraction in finding El Sin Nombre.

“We sit around here and do nothing, while he’s still out there?” Ghost spoke, which was nearly an irritated snarl. Price replied by pressing his lips into a line.

Ghost was a man always ready for action, and when he didn’t get it, it boiled inside him.

—

Part of you felt guilty for taking advantage of the radio silence. The enemy could be planning something catastrophic, already fifty steps ahead of where your team will be when the intel hits your desks.

You couldn’t pass up the feeling of relaxation, however. No bullets whizzing past you, no drowning in tunnels, no wondering if you were going to be the next dead soldier.

Soap’s voice reverted your attention. “Enjoying the free time?”

“As much as I can… How could there be no new information? I have a bad feeling about this.” You speak, taking your eyes off the paperwork in your lap. Surely he understands. Although he usually keeps a more casual demeanor, you can tell he has the same concerns.

“Nothing we can do right now. Better to wait and be prepared.” Soap retorts as he puts a hand on the back of the chair beside you. He was right. Why exhaust yourself and become a weakness for the enemy to take advantage of?

—

After an extended period of mundane papers, you felt your head begin to swell. You need a distraction to keep yourself busy. You head to the shooting range and decide to practice your accuracy. You snag a rifle off the wall it's mounted on and load it, lining yourself up with the target at the end of the lane. You fire off a few bullets, mainly focusing on your reloading speed between shots.

“At least your shooting is better than your punching.”

You turn to Ghost and fiddle with the rifle in your grip, giving him a sarcastic nod.

“I suppose you’re right about that.” He returns his usual detached gaze in response. “But you’ve gotta have a weakness somewhere buried beneath all that brawn, L.T.”

You could swear he smirked under his mask. He might’ve been able to conceal most of his body language, but the look in his eyes was something that rarely lied.

“We all have weaknesses, some of us just need to hide them better.” He seizes a step forward and grabs a sniper rifle off the wall, placing himself in the shooting lane beside you.

You purse your lips and turn back to your target and line up your sights, preparing to squeeze the trigger. You knew he was right. Someone wasn’t always going to be there to save you in the thick of it. It would have to be you.

The following shot bounced off the walls with a sharp crack. You hit the mark in the middle, feeling satisfied with yourself. He glinted at it briefly before he proceeded to snipe the moving targets, a bullet going through the head of most of them.

It was impressive the way it was almost second nature to him. How deadly he truly was in the field. In terms of work, he’s the best ally to have because he won’t let you die, but on the other hand, he’s withdrawn and won’t form connections with anyone around him. Why does he keep saving you? Why doesn’t he give to you the harsh reality check he gives to the others who make too many mistakes?

You had a sense that figuring him out was a can of worms you didn’t want to open anytime soon.

You made sure the rifle you were practicing with was clean, then placed it back on the wall, leaving Ghost to continue taking his feelings out on the targets.

—

As the hot water ran down your spine, you leaned your head back in relief. The steam of the shower relaxed muscles you didn’t realize had been tense.

The only part of you that wouldn’t let lose was your head. Specifically, the thoughts inside them. Why did you gawp at him like that in the kitchen? Thoughts like that hadn’t crossed you up until now. His appearance was striking to you, and the way he stared made it even worse. Not even a glimpse of his true features, and you’re a puddle at his feet.

Your fingers wrapped around the cold metal faucet and shut the water off abruptly.

Reflection about your feelings wasn’t getting you anywhere. It was not the time either, you were here to work with a Task Force. You weren’t going to jeopardize that with just anything - especially a hardheaded, unattainable colleague.

Since Price eagerly wanted new intel on El Sin Nombre, you had no plans to go anywhere. You didn’t know how to tell him there was quite literally nothing new. The pipeline had gone dead - all you could do was wait for the next move.

You slipped on your casual uniform and proceeded down the hall. When you passed the window framing the yard, you saw Ghost sitting outside. He looked deep in thought as if the weight of the world was straining him, even more than usual. You opened the back door and peeked your head through, giving a concerned look.

“Everything alright?” You weren’t sure how else to approach the conversation.

Formal? Casual? Either way, it was like approaching a burning building that was ready to collapse. Although, it wasn’t because he was unpredictable. It was the opposite problem. He always remained stoic and untouchable.

“I’m fine,” he utters, holding a cigarette between his fingers. “Just get back to work, Sergeant.”

He wasn’t going to get away with that today. You can’t be expected to trust someone with your life without knowing the human behind the disguise of a killing machine.

You approached the bench he was sitting on and sat next to him. “I’m not going to pretend to understand what’s going through your head, because I don’t. But whatever it is…”

He spits back instantly, “None of your concern. Go back to work.” His tone is harsher, but you can tell he’s trying not to let his voice carry too loudly.

You gave a hefty sigh in response. You knew what to expect from him, but it still stung.

You shared a glance with each other briefly as he tosses the cigarette onto the pavement and snuffs it with his boot heel. You take that as your cue to walk back inside and leave him to brood. Perhaps some things, or some people, should remain untouched.

You walked into your dorm and opened the laptop sitting on your desk. He was right, you should just get back to work. After all, you had some files that still needed to be reviewed. You clicked on the first one and began typing away at your notes.

When you adjusted the angle of your screen further back, you spotted a figure in the reflection of it, and it was standing in the doorway.

You jerked around, seeing Ghost standing there for God knows how long. 

“Ghost…” You said under your breath. You tightened your brows when he didn’t respond. Something about it felt uneasy, like maybe you pushed him too far earlier. “If I pushed things too far earlier, I’m sorry.” You stood up from the chair, keeping an apologetic look as his eyes burned into yours.

He stepped closer.

“I didn’t mean to be a pain. It wasn’t my intent-” 

He grabbed the sides of your face and pulled the bottom of his balaclava up to his nose. Before you could even try to think, he’s initiated an impatient and heated kiss.

At first, your hands were frozen in place at your sides, but you couldn’t help yourself. They were soon resting on his waist.

There was no time for questions, and he wasn’t showing any signs of doubt.

You stumbled backward as the back of your knees hit the bed behind you. You felt a warmth wash over you as he climbed on top of you, forcing you to lay with your legs off the side of the bed - and his body in between them.

He reached for your belt and unbuckled it without even giving it a glance, only breaking the kiss when you both needed air. Your lips rested against his as you exchanged breaths into each other’s mouths, eyeing one another as you did so.

His fingers wrapped around the waistband of your cargo pants and yanked them down, leaving you in your t-shirt and underwear. You felt a rush of heat to your cheeks as you met his eyes again. The moonlight shining through the window illuminated his saliva-coated lips and the five-o-clock shadow that had begun to show itself.

He had boxed you in with his frame, and the hands roaming all over your body made him impossible to resist. It was too late to ask why any of this was happening, you were already in it too deep. He rolled your panties off and tossed them aside, running his thumb over your hips afterward. 

You felt a tingle whenever his hand left an area of your skin, it getting stronger as he went lower and lower.

You murmured a plead as he hushedly unbuckled his belt. He snakes his hand in between your thighs and brushes his fingers over your folds, finding your sensitive bud. His eyes had a look of amusement buried in them as he examined your reactions to his touch. His calloused fingertips gave friction against the slick already pooling around your entrance. 

He didn’t give you long to get used to his fingers before he was sliding his boxers down to his mid-thigh and guided his cock toward your moistened entrance, rubbing the seeping tip of it in a circle. You felt yourself shutter at the feeling of his manhood teasing you, wanting more of him. 

It was so wrong to feel this way about a superior, but his very skin grazing against yours made you drip in arousal for him.

He lifted his shirt up and put the fabric in between his teeth to keep it from blocking his view of your core. Your eyes wandered toward the bandage still wrapped around his torso - the one you put there.

“Wait,” you said in between gasps, halting his next move. “What about your side… your arm… won’t it hurt you?”

“It’s nothing.” His tone dripped with arrogance as he replied, pushing himself deep inside you while his thundering tone filled your ears. The natural deep octave of his voice had formed goosebumps all over your body.

You choked at the sensation of him filling you up with ease, sending a shock of desire up and down your spine. The cockiness made you ache for him more. The way he continued fucking you without the injuries he sustained holding him back.

You spread your legs wider, splitting yourself on his cock, letting him go as deep as he possibly could. He suppressed his grunts well, except for a few that slipped out when you dug your nails into his shoulder blades.

Your mouth hung open slightly as the pleasure began to form in your core, building with each thrust he gave you. He noticed you becoming weaker underneath him like you couldn’t take much more of this before you fell apart.

He looked as if he was approaching his climax before you. Even when he tried to hide it, his breaths formed more into shutters, and his pace quicked and got more sloppy. He gripped your thighs, making them stay in place against the sheets.

“Shit…” you cooed, feeling completely at his disposal.

He still hadn’t uttered an entire word this whole time, seeming to be completely focused on the sensation of being inside you. Your clothed nipples brushed along his chest repeatedly, putting you on the brink of overstimulation.

His eyes fluttered open and closed a few times as he pulled out of you, daring you to whimper from how sensitive you were with the absence of him crammed into you. You figured he wasn’t going to risk any accidents during a sloppy hookup, so you understood. In fact, you would be lying if the sight of him finishing himself with his hand didn’t make you want him more.

He ran his hand up and down his own manhood, still having the lubrication of your own wetness to help guide his fingers from tip to base. He quicked the movement of his hand, taking only seconds before he dissolved into his own pleasure, strewing his cum all over your stomach, some even ending up on the t-shirt you still had on.

You expected him to lean back in, to satisfy you with his hands or his mouth, but he didn’t. He pulled the balaclava back over his chin and pulled up his bottoms, leaving you a wet, sensitive mess.

You sat up, propping yourself on your forearm. “Did I do something?” You asked, knitting your brows together. This wasn’t some power play, he was quite literally leaving you high and dry.

He adverted your gaze as he readjusted his bottoms and lazily looped his belt before he trudged out of your dorm, closing the door behind him in haste.

You looked down at your nude bottom half, the cum on your stomach and shirt. You scoffed and ripped the shirt off your body, instantly finding yourself a clean one from your dresser. How could he do this to you? Quite literally leave you in his mess without saying a word?

You slid off the mattress and plodded into your bathroom, feeling ashamed of what you saw in the mirror. You wet a rag and cleaned off the wetness of your vagina before tossing it in the hamper, as well as the underwear he tore off of you.

In the heat of the moment; you wanted this, he wanted you.

This didn’t make any sense. He had to be playing some sort of game… or worse, just using you for his own satisfaction. 

Either way, you weren’t going to let him walk away from this.

This wasn’t over.

TAGLIST: @neoarchipelago @ghostlythots

[mabelstone]

can you write smut where reader distracts matt and gets him worked up while he’s on an online interview and he ties up and punishes the reader?

mabey is here to deliver <3

Payback

CW: 18+, dacryphilia (arousal by tears), bondage i guess?, rough sex

word count: 2055 (sorry!)

"Well, yeah!" You heard Matt laughing in his office through the gap in the door. "And that's the part nobody thinks about!" Hearing him genuinely laugh made your heart happy. You recalled him telling you about an online interview he had today, so that explains all the South Park talk. You decided to finish folding the washing while listening in on his interview. It was always a trip for you when you remembered just how famous he was.

You continued to eavesdrop, listening to the interviewer ask the same old boring questions they always did.

"So, how did South Park come about?"

"Would you ever do a sequel to Team America?"

"Blah blah blah... BASEketball?"

You chuckled to yourself, seeing right through his nice guy act, prepared for him to complain to you the minute the interview was over. Then it caught your eye. The tiny but powerful phone-controlled vibrator he used on you at dinner last week. You pondered for a moment before shooting him a text.

hey, remember when u made me cum in front of all your employees last week

he replied almost instantly. Luckily, Trey was in the call and leading the conversation, so Matt could get away with this for now.

Not now doll x

yes now. move the camera away from the door

You heard him clear his throat, subtly turning his computer away from the door. You took the opportunity to slip in, crawling over to him on your hands and knees completely naked. He shot you a warning glance before returning his eyes to his screen, forcing out a well timed laugh. You situated yourself between his legs, unzipping his jeans as quietly as possible, watching the way his jaw clenched when you gently ran your fingers across his bulge.

For context, you, Matt, Trey, nearly all of the South Park Studios staff, and a large number of Comedy Central higher up's were out for a celebratory dinner. Of course, what nobody at that dinner knew was that Matt was a bit of a masochist, and in turn, it was safe to assume you were too. He loved to fuck with you in public, especially since he'd recently bought a bunch of phone controlled sex toys. As there were so many people at the table, he could torture you with sweet vibrations and fly completely under the radar. No one even noticed the way you were squirming in your seat, or the way you had to put all of your focus into your breathing. Nobody besides Trey of course, who just had to tell a few of their friends... Who then told a few of their friends. Before you knew it, half the table was watching you play off an orgasm while Matt acted oblivious to the situation. He played it off so well, nobody would've ever known that your nails were digging so deep in his thigh, you nearly drew blood.

You raised your open mouth to his clothed cock, breathing warmth onto the head, instantly excited by the way his brows furrowed in attempt to focus on anything but you. He reached his hand out to push your head away, and you could practically hear the blood rush to his cock when you took two of his fingers into your mouth. Satisfied with the cough he faked to mask his unsteady breathing, you hooked your fingers into his waistband and watched his dick spring out before you. Eyes hooded and hungry, you wrapped your hand around him and started working his length, thumb flitting over his slit to use his precum as lube. Though he was 'laughing' along with the other guys in the interview, you could see his nostrils flaring slightly, and feel his hand impatiently urging your lips toward his pulsating head.

You obviously understood, lips immediately wrapping around his length, taking him all the way into your mouth at an unrelenting pace. You loved watching him pretend to be unfazed around others; meanwhile, his fingers had a vice grip on your hair, pushing you impossibly further down until your nose connected with the small tuft of curly hair below his navel. You snaked a hand down to massage his balls, eyes carefully trained on his movements. He let out a big breath and played it off as a yawn, yet you watched his toes curl against the carpet.

You realised this wasn't necessarily payback, but rather an exhilarating boost for his secret sadistic persona. You decided this was going to go your way instead. You began making obscene and obnoxiously wet sucking sounds around him as if you were in a porno, loud enough that no doubt, all of his fans could hear. His eyes shot open, and he slammed his laptop shut.

"What the fuck was that, Y/N?" He growled angrily, ripping you up to your feet by your hair. His eyes were angry, and you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself. "It's not funny at all. You're gonna get me in trouble."

"Hey, it's fair game. I'm just getting you back for last week's dinner." You threw your hands up in self defence, smile faltering slightly when he grabbed your wrist tight and dragged you into your bedroom.

"On the bed, on your back." He commanded, but of course you were in the mood to stir the pot, so you just stared back dumbly. He sighed in annoyance, roughly grabbing you by your arms and forcing you back onto the bed. Excitement rose in your chest as you realised what was coming. If you pushed him hard enough, he'd often punish you for whatever you did. You had a safe word, not that you ever used it. You both loved pushing each others boundaries, seeing who would break first, who was willing to cross a line. For the two of you, the line was near impossible to breach, meaning he'd forgive you for this as long as he could watch you cry an apology.

Incredibly turned on by this side of Matt, you decided to oblige, laying in the centre of the bed with your arms and legs extended for him. You knew where this was going. He huffed under his breath at the desperate sight of you. Breath already laboured in excitement, twitching against the constraints he tied to you. You giggled at the sight of him, annoyed, flustered, and incredibly horny.

"Why are you laughing? Look at you," he taunted, scoffing at the state of you as he rummaged through a drawer of toys you'd bought together over the years. A grin stretched across his lips as he found what he was looking for; a black ball gag attached to leather straps that hugged two tacky metal hearts. You writhed against the constraints, feeling arousal pool between your thighs. You whimpered as he approached, making his way beside the bed. You went to say something to set him off, but were instantly cut off with rough fingers gripping your jaw.

"Open," he commanded flatly, shoving the ball gag in with such force, your eyes widened and a surprised moan was ripped from deep inside your chest. He moved down to remove the restraints from your legs, rubbing your already red ankles with a faux pout, teasing, "I know, baby, I know." You whimpered in a mix of arousal and anticipation, unsure of what he was going to do to you next. He pushed your legs up to your chest by your ankles, licking a flat stripe up your slit, causing your legs to jerk. He adjusted himself so he was holding both of your ankles in one of his large hands; the pain of your ankle bones rubbing together causing you to wince. Matt didn't care. He just used his free hand to roughly squeeze your breast, his warm fingers digging painfully deep into the soft flesh. He teased your clit with the tiniest, most underwhelming licks imaginable, his tongue barely making contact with the sensitive bud. You impatiently jerked your hips as best you could with his strong grip on you. His nose brushed your clit so deliciously, and it were times like this that you truly believed he was given that nose for a reason. However, this caused him to moving away from your aching heat, also releasing your ankles in the process. You whimpered at the lack of contact.

"You wanna get fucked that bad, huh?" He taunted, gripping your hips tight enough to leave fingertip shaped bruises. "So desperate... So needy."

Your wide eyes followed his every move, watching him climb off the bed to strip his clothes, before crawling back between your legs. Your breathing hitched under the gag as you felt his slender fingers collecting your slick, coating his cock with your arousal before lining himself up with your entrance. Even after all this time, you still needed his fingers to stretch you before you had sex. Not that he was astronomically big, no. Just... painfully, painfully thick. Thanks to the little stunt you pulled, he was ramming into you with no warning.

You practically screamed, eyes screwed shut, teeth digging into the gag that muffled every sound you made. "Fuuuuuck," Matt let out a low groan that sounded so pretty, your stomach to flipped. He continued fucking you as if you were his personal toy, your legs up over his shoulders at this point. Sounds of your muffled moans, Matt's laboured breathing, and wet squelching accompanied by the clap of skin on skin echoed through the room in an orchestra of pleasure. He raised a hand, brazenly bringing it down to collide with your ass with a loud smack. Tears of pleasure and pain formed at your waterline as your eyes rolled back, Matt not once slowing his pace. You could feel him hitting that dizzying spot inside you repeatedly with so much force, you were sure he'd bust a hole in your cervix. Your wrists were tugging against the restraints tied to your bedposts, your head rhythmically hitting the headboard. Tears began to stream down your face, your cries muffled by the ball gag, the only noises coming from you sounded pathetic and strangled.

He finally halted his pace, briefly breaking out of his sadistic demeanour to pull the gag out of your mouth. "Do you want me to stop?" He asked, genuinely concerned.

To which you replied in the whiniest, most desperate tone ever, with tears continuing to stream down your cheeks, "I swear to god, Matthew, if you stop I will fucking leave you."

The next thing you knew, the gag was back in your mouth and he was fucking you harder than he had ever fucked anyone. You continued to sob, your tears rolling down your cheeks, drenching your hair and the pillow beneath you. Matt swiped a tear away with his thumb, sucking the salty liquid pleasure from it with a grin. His other hand was still firmly gripping your hip, guiding you up and down his length.

You couldn't even form words, let alone sounds at this point. You were so deep in pleasure that your jaw slackened around the gag, eyes rolling to the back of your head completely, legs spasming around him as you experienced the most intense orgasm you'd ever had. Your voice came back just as you reached your high, chanting his name like a mantra as he removed the gag from your mouth.

Whiney, fucked out cries of "oh, Matt! Matt, Matt, fuck! You feel so gooood." He watched as tears continued to stream down your face, never having seen you in this much pleasure before. His orgasm seemed to sneak up on him too, abruptly painting the inside of your walls with thick, hot ribbons of lust. He slowly pulled out, resting his sweaty forehead against yours, your hearts bashing against each of your ribcages in unison.

"Baby?" You began breathlessly, receiving a half-assed hum in response from an exhausted Matt. "Can you, uh... untie me?"

3 New Messages From: Trey Parker

You two are unbelievable dude...

Just because you left the room doesn't mean we couldn't hear you in the call

How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to Anne??

Guess he didn't shut the laptop properly.... You're gonna get it for that.

[winchesterszvonecek]

4. to take a hot bath with my muse

NSFW Prompts That Don’t Sound Like a Bad Porno

Brian Zvonecek x fem pretty pls 😘

Bath Time - [ Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek ] 18+

Prompt: To take a hot bath with my muse

Word Count: 731 short but hopefully satisfying ;)

Warnings: female!reader, smut - [ brief dirty talk, masturbation ]

A/N: i feel like my work sucks these days so apologies if this does

Masterlist | Otis Masterlist

It started out as nothing but a simple, relaxing bubble bath. A way for you and Otis to wash off the events of the day together as you’d barely seen each other all shift. And you were more than happy to sit between his legs with his arms wrapped around you for as long as possible if it meant just being with him.

Only as it usually went with the two of you, one slightly passionate kiss led to another, then to another. Then led to you grinding your ass against him, feeling him twitch beneath you which had his hands move straight from your waist to your breasts, kneading them softly and pinching at the hardened buds atop them in a way that had you grow hotter between your legs.

The next thing you knew both of your legs were hooked over the edge of the tub, your back pressed firmly against Otis’s chest as his fingers rubbed slow, intricate circles on your throbbing clit, in the way he always knew drove you absolutely crazy and could pull an orgasm from you within minutes.

“Fuck… Brian.” You gasped out, your head pressing further into his shoulder as he picked up the pace, enticing more sweet sounding moans to pass over your lips as you almost couldn’t contain yourself.

“You like that, baby?” Otis cooed into your ear, brushing your hair aside with his free hand to offer him a better view of his other between your legs. He placed a soft kiss on the nape of your neck, watching as the water sloshed around in front of you in rhythm with his movements. “You like when I play with your pretty little pussy like this?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, unable to even think let alone speak as your teeth bit down on your bottom lip so hard you almost drew blood. You were nearing the edge, feeling that fire burning hot inside you, about to send a fireball shooting out in a way that always left you craving more.

You never could orgasm just once with Otis, not with the way he pulled them out of you like a magician pulling handkerchiefs out of his sleeve. Just when you think it’s over, bam! He hits you with another wave and sends you hurtling over the edge into complete and utter bliss, just as he was right now.

Every single touch of his fingers made you feel like you were in heaven. Every flick, every rub, every pinch sent a shockwave of pleasure rippling throughout your body. Your eyes glazed over, seeing nothing but white as you pulled your lip through your teeth, balancing right on the edge as he began to draw his name over your clit, the first letter almost making you slip and fall the second he finished it.

“Fuck… Fuck I’m so close.” You panted, bucking your hips in rhythm with him and not caring if you were soaking the bathroom as you did as with each movement you sent water splashing over the edge of the tub.

Only one soaking thing was on your mind right now and spoiler alert, it wasn’t the floor.

“That’s it baby, come apart for me.” Otis groaned into the nape of your neck, sinking his teeth into your sensitive skin as he continued to work his magic, signing off his name and finishing with a few, more gentle strokes over your clit as you came. And hard too as your entire body began to tremble on top of him.

Your hand flew back, finger delving into his hair as you gripped it tightly, allowing him to ride you through the most incredible high you had ever felt before. Which was saying something as usually Otis had you shaking with such intense pleasure that you weren’t able to see straight for a good few minutes afterwards.

Today was no different either as by the time you came down your eyes were still a little blurry, your chest heaving with each gasping breath you took. Even your legs hurt terribly, from clenching so hard around the tub to stop them from closing involuntarily.

But all that minor discomfort, the uncomfortableness and the slight hints of pain shooting up your legs were one hundred percent worth it and the second you came down completely, you were more than ready for another round… Or two.

Like this? Apply to my Otis tag list here!

tagging: @sancochillo @kellykidd @violetmacher @kiddbegins @neapolitantoebeans @alexxavicry @wandamaxim0f @bloodybagels @stephydearestxo @evanbuckbuckley @doublebassallie @orileyrandom @annchersita @babyyoda89

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[justatypicalwizard]

Wants Within | S. Shinazugawa | Chapter 18

✦ Sanemi Shinazugawa x femReader!, college au, reader is adult

✦ Synopsis: You're a college student taking classes with a very strict lecturer- professor Shinazugawa. Because of an unfortunate event you got on his bad side so now you're trying everything to regain in his eyes. Well, you most certainely didn't expect that kind of attention.

✦ Word count: 1,7k

18+, minors do not interac

You felt his hands all over you. He grabbed your ass harshly and picked you up, sinking his lips into your. You wrapped your tight around his slim waist, groaning internally at the feeling of his perfectly shaped body. 

‘’Are you still in the mood for ‘do whatever you want with me’?’’ He asked in a raspy voice, between the kisses. 

‘’That’s my default.’’ You giggled, tracing your fingers along his jawline, only so slightly. Next you cupped his cheeks in your palms to stop him from aggressively possessing your mouth. Inching closer you gave him butterfly kisses, for the sole purpose of teasing him. The last straw that you drew was the cat lick on his lips, your face blushing but your eyes hungry. That was enough for Shinazugawa. 

‘’Are you in the mood for a foreplay?’’ He asked, literally throwing you on the bed. 

As your back bounced on the soft mattress you looked up to see him undressing, you did the same. Well, he was quicker and before you could free yourself from your underwear he was on top of you. Skilfully, he unclasped your bra with one hand and moved to your panties. 

‘’I started to like it.’’ he said playfully, before flashing you a devilish, toothy grin. 

Then, he tore yet another pair of you panties open. 

‘’Oh hell no!’’ You said. ‘’Sanemi!’’ 

You were not even half aware how much you teased him. That frown with his name, oh how he loved it. 

‘’Don't worry kitten, I’ll buy you new ones.’’ He stood proud in front of you, obviously showing off his muscles and you couldn't deny, you like it. ‘’So, you want foreplay?’’ 

Oh, how glad you were that he asked. You were definitely too horny for that. 

‘’No, I just want to fuck.’’ You told him greedily, licking your lips. 

‘’That’s what I wanted to hear.’’ He grinned, grabbing your hips. 

His strong arms pulled you towards the bed end. He stood up and picked you easily, turning you around. Now, you were on all your fours waiting for him. You heard the sound of the condom as you wiggled your ass impatiently. 

‘’Geez, wait. Or are you so greedy for my cock?’’ He laughed, pushing the tip at your entrance. ‘’Guess you are.’’ he said and you nodded with a huff. ‘’Okay, then let me give it to you baby.’’ 

He put his hand between your shoulder blades and pushed hard, making your chest hit the mattress and your face burry into the soft, black material of his bedsheets. He pulled at your hair and your neck bent up. Without mercy, he shoved himself all in. 

It was like someone split you in half. Your body was not experienced and ready enough. Well, you doubt it will ever be taking his size into consideration. Yet, the pain felt so right, so needed. You felt him hard, with every small muscle, from the walls of your pussy to the toes that curled when he pushed more and more. 

He pulled out and slammed himself once more, and again, and again. 

‘’Tell me when it’ll start to feel good, not only pain.’’ Oh that bastard knew damn well what he was doing. ‘’But I need to say, you’re very brave. First time I can really do what I like.’’ He purred into your ear filling you with confidence. 

You wanted everything that he did. You were so glad that the two of you had the same needs and fantasies. You always feared that your kinks would be too much. Yet, here’s the man that could satisfy you. 

‘’Maybe you’ll make me feel good when you stop fucking around and start fucking me.’’ You grinned, turning your head to the side for him to see your little, devilish expression. 

He must be fair with himself, you threw him off the track. He never anticipated that he’ll find a girl that would always want more of him. He was definitely a brat tamer, but it’s the first time he found his sweet little brat. 

‘’Just as you want princess.’’ And with that he rammed into you. 

Loud and lewd moans dripped from your mouth as he shifted your insides and carved your body into his shape. The thing that made you fall off the edge were his occasional grunts. Getting a bit of countroll back as you got used to the tempo you squeezed your muscles to clamp around him more and every time you did a curse or a moan would escape his pale lips. Even though you were at the bottom, you had control over him. 

At least you thought so, before the knot that you could previously ignore now started to get painfully present. You lost your breath, moaning without any rhythm, losing control over your own muscles. They all clasped around his cock abruptly as you came with a loud scream of his name. 

He didn’t need more to reach his orgasm. He pushed into you last few times, cumming inside. 

It took a while for the both of you to catch your breaths. Sanemi pulled out and threw away the used condom. You fell on the bed and stretched yourself. Suddenly, you felt a slap to your asscheek. 

‘’To the toilet now. I don’t want you getting an infection.’’ He pointed at the doors. 

‘’Okay, okay.’’ You giggled and skipped the way he showed you. 

As you fixed yourself in the toilet you looked in the mirror. Your lips were swollen, your lower ones also. You tried to do something with your hair but it lived its own life. Shrugging, you washed your hands and stepped outside, not feeling any embarrassment in front of Shinazugawa. 

Marching naked through his apartment you suddenly got hit with something in your face. Catching it you saw it was a band tee. It was huge and easily reached half your tight. It was a Time Impala t-shirt. 

Putting it on you laughed at Sanemi. 

‘’You basic bitch.’’

‘’You want to listed to fucking Mozart Miss ‘distinctive music taste’?’’ He threw at you but you only laughed. 

‘’Just joking.’’ 

‘’Want some more?’’ He asked, picking up the wine glasses. 

‘’Yes, why not.’’ You thought you would be okay, would you?

You sat on the couches as he turned on a small lamp. The room bathed in a golden light, making it very cosy. The wood looked soft and delightful while the black couches glistered, reflecting the light. 

Shinazugawa put on the same pants he had earlier, denying himself any shirt. He sat down on the couch, leaning in, holding his wine in one hand and brushing his hair with the other. A few ruffles and it was the usual white mess. 

Looking him up and down in a less sensual manner you remembered the one question you always wanted to ask him. 

‘’Where did you get all there scars?’’ You spat out bluntly. ‘’Of course, if I may ask.’’ 

‘’Yeah, why not.’’ He shrugged. ‘’When I was small my family had a car accident. Me and my brother were the only ones that got out of it alive. Genya happened to sit behind me and I got the bigger blow. I grew up with those scars.’’ He looked somewhere past you and your stomach dropped. 

‘’But, how do you feel about them?’’ You pried. 

‘’I’m kinda grateful that it’s me, not Genya. He could not be able to live with it. He’s a shy idiot who can’t take advantage of his strong side. He’s actually pretty insecure about that one scar that was left on his face.’’ It felt surreal, listening about the smaller brother's insecurity while looking at Sanemi, covered in the painful memories.

‘’I’m not asking about Genya, I’m asking about you.’’ You told him. 

It shocked him a bit. Usually people shut up after he says such things but you, you did not. You were interested in his feelings in all of this. 

‘’I don’t really care.’’ He stated, looking you in the eye. ‘’I already look godly. If I didn’t have those scars I would be too perfect.’’ You laughed at his joke. His mind told him to stop at this moment but his heart wanted to tell you one more thing. ‘’The only… I only regret that so many people see me through these scars. They start to project things on me. I’m no gangster, I teach at a fucking university and just happened to be in a accident.’’ He looked you deep in the eye. ‘’You were actually the first person who seemed to not give a fuck about them from the very begining.’’

His statement caught you off guard. You never thought about yourself as someone special, you were just your regular self. Actually, what you thought was going on was him, keeping his emotions shut deep down. Maybe, in fact, people were never kind to him and approached him with some carved beliefs and prejudices? That would match the thousands of walls he built around himself.

You didn’t quite know why, but you wanted to climb these walls and reach the centre. 

‘’It sounds like a hard topic, I’m sorry but I don’t quite know what else to say.’’ You apologised to him for your poor comforting skills.

‘’You already did a lot, believe it or not.’’ He gave you one of those small smiles and you choked on your wine. 

Dropping the heavy topics you started to talk about smaller and simpler stuff. You shared your music tastes, what clothes you like to wear, dogs and cats. The conversation was light hearted and comfortable. You never knew you would get to know so much about your crush. 

Soon the two of you found yourself finishing the wine bottle. Maybe it was a bit too much for you, actually you never read how many percent the liquor had. Well, enough to get you a bit drowsy. 

‘’I should probably head home, don’t want to take an uber too late in the night.’’ You said, your voice sinking down. You didn’t want to go home. 

‘’You can stay the night if you want.’’ Shinazugawa shrugged.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@secretxchive @vesperazhier @sulli1361

[mt-musings]

Bluebell

Chapter 18

After being abruptly transferred to the BAU at what she suspects was Gideon's request, Cassie Boann struggles to find her footing. Shy and solitary by nature, the transition is made all the more difficult when Dr. Spencer Reid seems to take an almost immediate dislike to her. Unfortunately for them both, their respective areas of expertise leave them paired off more often than not. But when Cassie's past literally starts hunting her, Spencer is forced to consider that he might, in fact, not hate her at all.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Spencer Reid x OC

Warnings: Canon typical violence, kidnapping, stalking, drug use, blood, injury, death, PTSD, eventual smut, more tags to be added

Series Masterlist

Read on AO3

18. Steady as She Goes

Spencer’s eyes kept flicking to the empty seat on the jet where Cassie usually sat. Hotch had asked her to stay behind to coordinate the excavation of Jane’s property with Lopez from ERT, something that he’d been surprised that she’d so readily agreed to after her anxiety attack in the barn. 

Though she had said it was the blood that had bothered her. She’d always been fine with bones. 

The look of fear in her eyes as she watched Gideon drive away still haunted him. It had all worked out for the best, with Gideon and the children safe, and she hadn’t mentioned it since, or the fact that he’d grabbed her hand. 

He still didn’t know exactly why he’d done it—he’d just acted without thinking, something he was summarily unaccustomed to doing.

She’d knocked on his door an hour after they’d gotten back to the motel, holding up a worn pack of cards with a sheepish smile. 

“I don’t know if you were planning on turning in but I just thought I’d see if you wanted to play a couple hands.” 

 She’d already been in her pajamas—a pair of flannel bottoms and an oversized Harvard sweatshirt that reached almost to her knees. They played a few rounds of poker sitting cross-legged on his bed before he noticed that she’d tampered with the deck. 

“I shuffled two decks together at random and then split ‘em so you can’t count cards,” she’d said, fighting a smile. She gave up, giving him a self-satisfied grin that wrinkled her nose.

“That’s cheating.”

“It’s cutting the Gregorian knot. You didn’t specify we had to play with a standard deck. Now at least it’s even.”

They’d stayed up well into the early hours of the morning, card games devolving into Cassie trying to teach him to throw cards (which explained the worn edges of her deck). He hadn’t been able to get the hang of it, even though he’d calculated the ideal angle of release. 

“How’d you even decide to learn this?” He’d asked, flinging his half of the deck down on the bed while she continued knocking down the little paper targets they’d made from the motel memo pad.

“I had a foster brother who could throw them so hard he could draw blood. So I made him teach me.”

“How old were you?”

“Maybe eleven?”

He’d yawned then without meaning to and she’d leapt up, sweeping the cards into a pile and excusing herself so he could get some sleep. He wished she’d stayed, wished she’d kept talking about her delinquent foster brother. It was the first time she’d talked about her past without the sadness creeping in behind her eyes, without brushing it off and redirecting the conversation. 

Derek drew him out of his thoughts, plopping down next to him on the couch. 

“You keep staring at her seat.”

“It’s right across from me.”

“I think the Boy Genius has a little crush.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, pulling a book from his bag. “Not likely. We’re just friends.”

“Friends who hold hands?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow as he smirked. Spencer felt his whole face turn bright red and glanced around the cabin to make sure no one else was paying attention. Luckily for him most of the team seemed to be asleep or listening to headphones. 

“That’s not—she was scared about Gideon going off with Frank. I was just trying to comfort her.”

“See, all that can be true and you could have a crush on Lil’ Miss Morticia.”

“That is not—We’re just friends and I’m not going to do anything to screw that up. She had a rough day, I was just trying to be nice.”

Derek settled back in his seat, still grinning at him. “I think you should go for it, man. It’d be good for both of you. I could give you some pointers—“

“I’m fine. I’m happy with the friendship we have.”

Derek’s teasing grin fell, leaving him with a sincere look instead. “I’m not teasing you, at least not about the fact that I think you two would be good for one another.”

Spencer dropped his gaze to his lap, wishing that he wasn’t so transparent, or he wasn’t surrounded by profilers. He was just glad no one else was paying attention to his mortification. 

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

His voice was so quiet he wasn’t even sure if Derek was able to hear him. 

---

Cassie crossed to her nightstand to pick up her ringing cell, wrapping her hair in a towel as she went. She glanced at the caller ID before flipping it open with a smile.

“Hey Spencer."

“How much longer are you going to be stuck out in Nevada?”

“Another week maybe? Hotch wants me to make sure everything is catalogued just in case there’s some clue to where Frank and Jane might be heading.”

“A week? Well, that answers my next question.”

“Which was?”

“If you’d want to go see The Science of Sleep on Friday.”

Cassie sighed. “I still have a quarter of the property left to comb through. Maybe we can raincheck?”

“Did you know that rain checks were originally a voucher given to baseball patrons at a rained out game?”

“I didn’t.”

“Maybe we can see it next week.”

“Cross your fingers we don’t catch a case. How’s everything back in Quantico?”

“Same as ever. We had a minor case out in Maryland but it only took two days.”

“God, what I wouldn’t do about now to get out of this god forsaken desert. I never really thought about how cold it gets at night.”

“Yeah, I never really had to worry about that growing up. The coldest it gets in Vegas is about low 40s.”

“I didn’t know you grew up in Vegas.”

“How’d you think I got so good at cards?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Honestly, I just figured it was like everything else. Why wouldn’t you be utterly infuriating at them?”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“Take it however you want,” she said, though she couldn’t hide the warmth in her voice. There was silence on the other end for a few moments as Cassie propped her feet up on the windowsill of her hotel room, looking out over the warm ochres of the sands. The desert was beautiful in a barren, alien sort of way, would be all the more so if she hadn’t spent the last week and a half excavating shards of human remains. 

“I—We miss you. It’s too quiet at work without you.”

“Lies,” she said, though she couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips. “I’m the quietest one in the bullpen.”

“Yeah, but you know how to get a rise out of the rest of us. I figured that out after the first week had a supreme lack of whimsical debates. Plus now there’s no one sitting across from me who just blurts out utterly disgusting things at random.”

“Are you still mad about the corpse wax?”

“Of course I’m still mad about the corpse wax! You brought it up while we were eating lunch.”

“I hadn’t thought of it before, it’s usually more of an archeological consideration. And it’s not that gross—“

“I’m going to stop you right there because I know whatever else you’re going to say will be absolutely revolting and I’d like to eat dinner.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Who’s the liar now?” He asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice. She could practically see him pacing in his apartment, his overlong hair tucked behind his ears, probably wearing one of his oversized college sweatshirts he liked to curl up on the couch in after work. 

If he only knew what kind of liar she really was. 

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