#something a little more 🌶️🌶️🌶️ level for them

[revelboo]

There’s still some time on the poll, but you guys pushed me over 1000 last night apparently. Star/Sounders was leading with Metroplex in second, and Megs in third. As promised, I’ll write something more polished as a thank you.

But I’m doing all three. I’m just slower writing like this, so bear with me. 18+ mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Everything is Alright Pt 63- extended cut

Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

Frame curled around you, Soundwave presses his cheek against yours. He curls his arm around you, palm splayed on your belly as he braces himself on the other. Just savoring the intimacy of this moment twisting about his spark to softly chain him and knowing he’s completely lost to you, just an impossible, little organic who’s so tangled in his spark there’s no going back. Losing himself in the feel of you, the quicksilver brightness of your emotions and thoughts washing over him, pulling him under. Because like this? Everything’s clearer, less murky and confused as if there were walls up against him before and they’re gone.

And he wants to tangle himself more firmly in you, frame, spark, and processor. Reaching for those memories that he’s been denied and cradling them to himself. Lips brushing your throat and tasting salt, then trailing up to just behind the shell of your ear, he feels when you sense him in your mind. Your trepidation singing through him as you whimper and he gathers you to him, wrapping himself around every part of you. Soothing away the uncertainty and whispering into your mind that you’re safe, he has you. He’ll always have you. “Little one,” he murmurs affectionately, forgetting that you’re not alone. That Starscream is watching, because right now there’s only you. The feel of your body warm and soft against his, his spike pulsing inside you still, the warm brightness of your mind tangling in his, and spilling into his spark. Wanting that final wall torn down. Needing to bind you so tightly to him he won’t know where you begin and he ends.

Head lifting to find the Seeker watching, his frame tense as his wings lift aggressively, he knows that line isn’t one he can cross just yet. Needing to feel the brightness of you touch his spark. To claim all of you as his, but not until you’re more comfortable with him. No, not only him, but Starscream. He’s so overwhelmed with you, he can’t shut out the Seeker’s thoughts. That vulnerability he tries so hard to hide and under it all, a fear so visceral it’s dangerously close to madness. Understanding that it’s you keeping Starscream level now, slowly healing scars Soundwave wasn’t even aware the SIC had. And it’s hard to trespass in the Seeker’s thoughts and still resent him even though he wants to.

Shivering as Soundwave’s servos flex against you where he’s supporting you, there’s a sense of being wrapped up and held that has nothing to do with his warm frame draped against you. He’s heat and warmth in your head, feeling him as his mind brushes yours, pouring through your defenses. Star has never done this to you and it should feel like an invasion as he tugs at you. Seeing everything. Petty little hates, first loves, your best moments and your worst. And not pushing you away, just accepting the good and the bad, cradling you. And when he rocks himself against you, that spike stroking inside you so slowly you feel every ridge, every bump, there’s no hesitation. “Please,” you whisper, eyes down, because you’re so full of Soundwave, he’s so tangled in you, you just can’t meet Starscream’s optics.

His mouth brushes your neck as he thrusts against you. Growling softly in Cybertronian again, but in your head, his voice is a deep growl. He has you. He sees you. You’re his. There’s no guilt about how good he feels inside you, that spike driving deep again and again, his hips pumping against you with wet sounds. There’s only him and you, his venting growls and your soft cries and gasps as he claims you. Your orgasm shredding you apart as you cry out and he keeps thrusting even as you tighten on him. Dragging it out, in almost frantic drives of his hips before he’s shuddering against you, burying himself deep. Hips rocking against you as he fills you and his lips brush the curve of your ear, your jaw, and neck as his mind curls about yours, feeling his pleasure as a warm rush.

Breathing raggedly, you finally lift your head to find Starscream staring at you. There’s that sly smile on his lips you’re so used to, but it’s wrong. Tense and almost manic, his optics lifting to your eyes and trapping you. There’s fear there under that indifference, you know it because you’ve seen him break wide open before. Knows he doesn’t like this, probably hates sharing you. But he’d done it for you, to protect you. Sacrificing his own happiness. Pressing a kiss against your throat as he senses the direction of your thoughts, Soundwave slips out of you and you can feel his excess trailing down your thighs.

Self conscious as you move toward Star, not even bothering to get off your hands and knees, you look up at him. Not sure what to say now, if he’ll even want you still after watching that. While Soundwave’s release is still slicking you. That anxious fear ebbs when he reaches to cup your cheek, his wings lowering slightly as that panic softens from his optics and his servo slides over the curve of your cheek. Accepting this and you. He’s sprawled there, one leg still outstretched and the other up as he tips your head higher and you go up on your knees so his mouth can crash against yours. Shocking you anew with how warm and malleable his lips are, softer than his plating as he kisses you. Growling a soft protest at you when you pull away. Face heating as you reach for his spike and grip him, watching his wings flare slightly. But not protesting as you kneel between his spread thighs to examine him. You’ve not had a chance to actually explore him and the shape is similar to a human’s, the head more tapered as you run your fingers over him, tracing along those ridges and nodes that feel so good inside you.

“Primus,” he growls as you duck your head and slide your tongue against him.

Hoping whatever his precum consists of isn’t toxic to you, but knowing that ship has probably sailed by this point. He shudders as you taste him, sweet with a metallic bite. Glancing up at him, you run your tongue along his length, before taking the tip into your mouth. Hearing him snarl and feeling his servos tangle in your hair so tight it almost stings. “Don’t move,” you murmur lifting your head and his wings shiver. And then you take him as deep as you can, tongue sliding against him, feeling him trembling under you, but not bucking up against you. You’ve heard him growl and snarl before, but the noise he’s making right now as you swallow as much of him as you can? It’s like he’s coming apart at the seams.

Primus, help him as that wet mouth moves on his spike and you glance up at him as if checking to see if he’s enjoying it. Like you don’t know the effect you have on him. Can’t feel him shaking with the need to move, doesn’t want you to stop, but needs to be inside you. Needs to claim you so thoroughly you forget all about Soundwave. To prove who you belong to. You make a noise when he tugs on your hair, until your head lifts, lips parted and wet. And he almost releases right then. Dragging you into his lap, lifting you and feeling you pull yourself up. Servos tightening on your hip as he grips himself with the other hand and finds your slick core.

“I wasn’t done,” you murmur, against the mesh of his neck, breath warm on him.

And he groans as he pulls you down to bury himself deep right where he belongs. Hearing your throaty moan as he scruffs his servos in your hair again and gently tugs until you arch so he can run his mouth against your soft throat to chase your pulse. Just needing to feel you, to hold you. Your lips brush against his helm, little hands clinging to his shoulders as you shift against him and rock yourself. Riding his spike with slow, unhurried movements. Wings flared, he lays back to let you have your way. Watching you move against him, face flushed. Those eyes everything to him as they hold his optics, listening to the sounds you make. Not Cybertronian, but so lovely to him where you’d once been so strange and alien. That need for more lifts through him, twists through his spark. Glossa tucked against the corner of his mouth as he runs his servos over you, entranced with the way you move against him, lifting until his spike nearly slips free and then rocking back down to take all of him.

Servos sliding up to splay over your chest, he can feel the wild beat of your heart there. Where a spark would be if you were Cybertronian. Watching you, that need crawls through him as he stiffens and lifts his hips. Releasing inside you as you smile down at him, hair falling forward and a few strands stuck to your sweaty cheek as you lazily rock yourself against him. He pulls you down against him, needing to feel your heart beating against him.

Knows he shouldn’t, but can’t seem to stop himself from being greedy for more. So easy to open those protective panels, feeling his spike still pulsing inside your wet heat. Seeing your face limned in the glow of his spark, your breath catching as you try to push yourself up and he pins you against him. Distantly aware of how vulnerable he is right now. That Soundwave is right there, but as his spark reaches tendrils of energy and finds you, nothing else matters. Craving those gentle hands to touch him, but venting raggedly when his sparks twines with you. Feeling you tangling with him, aware of you in ways he never has been before. Bonding himself to you as you shudder against him, little hands scrabbling against his plating, before you’re slumping against him, more of you spilling into him. Something he hadn’t meant to take, hadn’t known he could take as he wraps himself around you, sheltering that fragile warmth that’s you in his own spark. “Primus, I see you,” he whispers raggedly, a prayer and a curse both as the bond runs electric through him. Claiming every bit of you as his, losing himself to that warm feeling of belonging as his servos tighten on you, desperate to keep you close against him. To not let go of this moment.

Previous

Next

[caelcstis]

❝ I’ll taste every part of you before the night has ended. ❞ (from Mrithun bc yes)

SUGAR &&. SPICE. // @r3dblccd currently accepting !!

his chest felt so tight with every kiss shared. every touch of their lips, every breath shared. his fingers were quickly wound up in mrithun's soft hair, playing and pushing stray strands away from his face. he was so greedy for these affections, and mrithun always fed him. he never denied this overwhelming gluttony for his kisses or to touch him, even if it was just to hold hands or give the tightest, spine-breaking hugs just because raphael would squeeze him any tighter if he tried to leave him first.

even while the angel needed a small break to breathe, mrithun's lips still remained on his flesh. raphael inhaled sharply feeling those soft feather-like kisses trail the slope of his jaw and down his throat. his fingers curled tighter into mrithun's hair, though he hadn't pulled on it just yet.

don't stop, don't stop . . .

his entire body had been pliant in his lover's gentle grasp, arching every time his hands rubbed up and down his sensitive back, right into the warmth of his sturdy frame. he'd been so wound up, so excited that he didn't realize his desires were spilling from his mouth. " don't ... " lord, don't stop.

even as teeth gently scraped against his clavicle, raphael was begging for more. his head was spinning with lust and want that mrithun's words merely shoved him off the edge of whatever self control he had. he had been rougher than his usual behavior, pulling the fallen angel back up to his lips. mrithun wanted to taste every part of him, but raphael just wanted his lips, his tongue, teeth scraping together. this was something so deeply animalistic that even he couldn't afford to understand. he moaned into that mouth that spoke nothing but sweet praises and love when it came to raphael.

even now, when he was so messy and desperate for him that he had pulled mrithun's hair so tight to push his head back and raphael was now pressed atop him. his hips were pressed firm against mrithun and the friction of his jeans were driving him insane. the one damn time he had worn them -- it had him reeling.

if his lungs hadn't been so tight and demanding for air, he felt like he might have swallowed mrithun whole. he was gasping for it, pressing his body as close as he could to the man beneath and him it still wasn't enough. he could be ground to dust just pressing into mrithun and it still wouldn't be enough for raphael.

" i plan on keeping you all night, " his voice was raw and low, so filled with love and desire. " so i suggest you take your time in savoring me as much as i plan on savoring you. "

[xmasterofmunsonx]

Got Your Number

Summary: You’re Steve Harrington’s older sister and after a rough and tumultuous breakup, you’re back in Hawkins, Indiana. 🌶️

Pairing: Harrington!reader x Eddie Munson

Author’s notes: hi hello!!! long time no update. been sitting on the first half of this for months and wrote the second half over the last two days. I love this story and honestly at this point I’m writing it for myself and everyone else enjoying it is just a plus. If you’re still hanging in there with me, thanks 🩷

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI!!), language, drinking, weed, mentions of past abusive relationship, body image issues, shitty parent relationship, smut

Word count: 8K

VII.

Two weeks had gone by in a flash while working full time at your dads office. It really wasn’t all that bad, and everyone that worked there had either known you your whole life, or they knew your dad well enough to not give you a hard time- whether it’s because they figured he gave you a hard enough time anyway, or they were afraid of him, you weren’t too sure.

Eddie and the guys seemed to have moved on from the record deal and decided to not sign it, and you were thankful because you were afraid they’d be making a huge mistake in doing so, but you didn’t miss the lack of spark that your boyfriend had shown the last two weeks- he’d canceled Hellfire one night, and was threatening to cancel it now at 4 pm, a few hours before it was supposed to start.

“C’mon, what else are you going to do?” You asked him, the work phone between your shoulder and ear as you were busy with some paperwork.

“Practice, and maybe practice some more. We’re having a really hard time nailing down Maiden’s ‘Wasted Years’ for our show.” You heard him sigh, and tapping his fingers on something at his work through the other end of the phone line.

“Babe, the song just came out a little while ago. I don’t think anyone expects perfection, and you don’t have to play it until you’re ready to.”

He was quiet for a moment before speaking, “I just can’t stop thinking about what if another scout is out there at the next show and we don’t blow them away? We could’ve just missed our chance to make it big.”

“Eddie, you didn’t. I promise.” You twirled the phone cord, “Steve said Dustin is driving him insane because he’s been bugging him since all you’ve been doing is practicing with the band or seeing me- you need to spend some time with them.”

“I don’t need the guilt from you too.” He said quickly.

“I’m not guilting you- I’m just trying to help you keep things normal as you… your brain adjusts to the meds.” Eddie had taken the doctors orders and actually complied with taking the medication he needed for two weeks straight. The first week was the worst- the mood swings were a little more unpredictable, and the anxiety was heightened but you could tell he was starting to level out a little now by the end of the second week. He was even getting better sleep already, and he hadn’t woken up from a nightmare since the third night.

“I’m doing better already. Do you want me to take you on a date or something instead?”

“Eddie, why don’t you want to have Hellfire tonight? You do every single Friday night.”

“I just… I don’t wanna feel different for that. I don’t wanna lose my spunk with it.”

“Do you really feel like you’ve lost it in other ways?” This was the first he’d mentioned any of this, and you really wish you weren’t having this conversation over the phone, but you knew it was probably easier for him to tell you these things without being face to face.

“I mean, kinda, I can’t get the riffs right on that goddamn song to save my life.”

You laughed, “Eddie. That song is a completely different sound from almost any other Maiden song, I heard you playing it the other morning before I walked out of your bedroom. You’ve got it. If anything, I think you’re focusing and you’re trying harder than you ever have before. Plus, this is Hellfire we’re talking about here- you are the most dramatic person I know, including right now, you could never lose your flair for dramatics. Do you want me to DM tonight, or something? I can pull out one of my old campaigns if you haven’t already stolen them all.”

“Would you?” He sounded sheepish as he asked the question.

“I may need some assistance in refreshing on actually how to properly be a dungeon master but I think I can swing that for once. If everyone’s okay with it.” You scribbled down some ideas you’d had as you listened to Eddie go on about how the guys usually played out the campaigns and you knew exactly which one you wanted to try out on them tonight.

-

“Never thought a Harrington would grace the table of Hellfire Club. Welcome.” Dustin spoke to you as you sipped on a glass of whiskey over ice.

“Henderson, who do you think Eddie got some of those twisted campaign ideas from? His little pea brain?” Gareth quipped at Dustin immediately.

“Hey!” Eddie said from the corner of the room, as you blew a kiss at him.

“I told you, we started Hellfire together back in middle school. Were you even born then?”

“What?! I’m not that young.” He shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, “Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”

“She’s not joking.” Gareth nudged Dustin- who’d looked all too confident when he learned you’d be the dungeon master tonight. “I almost cried once.”

You had to turn away to keep from laughing and avoid spitting out the alcohol in your mouth. You were feeling warmed up, but nervous as you waited for everyone to get to Eddie’s music store where he hosted the games in the back room. You loved the cozy feeling of it versus using a room at your school that you had to beg and plead for, and Eddie had told you it had been a fight to keep it going during high school without you being in the club to be the representative for it. He claimed they would’ve let you have any room in the schpracticeool if you asked for it, while they were begrudgingly given the drama room and even then sometimes they had to move a campaign night because of play practice running over. The back room was decked out with band posters, show flyers- new and old, and some odds and ends mounted on the wall.

“Ready, my love?” Your heart swooned at Eddie who’d also been sipping whiskey all night, his ringed hand was clutching a glass similar to yours, except his was a little more empty than yours. You loved how into character he always got, and you felt butterflies as he wrapped his other arm around your waist and kissed your temple. “Thanks for being willing to step up tonight.”

“I can’t say that it’ll happen often, but you owe me big time, Munson.” You locked eyes with his crazy wide brown ones.

“Oh believe me, I know how I’m paying you back tonight.”

“Then you better stop drinking now before you get whiskey dick, babe.” You whispered in his ear, and kissed his earlobe, your teeth lightly biting it- thankful his curtain of hair could hide your actions. Okay, maybe you were two glasses of whiskey deep now. But you didn’t have the energy you used to and you needed everything you could to pull tonight off.

Everyone had taken a seat at the table, Eddie had lent you his seat at the head of the table, and he scooted a chair up beside yours to help you if you needed it. You were excited, nervous, but mostly you were just happy that Eddie had decided to not cancel tonight. You could tell that he was really in his element here, and this normalcy was what he really needed.

“Alright everyone. Get nice and cozy, because we’re gonna be here all night long.” You sat down and rifled through your notes, smiling at a few of the add ons Eddie had scribbled down, god only knows when, as you started the campaign. You took a sip of your half refilled glass, then cleared your throat and started speaking. “Tonight, we’re in the kingdom of Evercrest.” You heard Gareth groan across the table and you shot him a look, he knew that you had many campaigns written for this kingdom. You remember that some of these used to take two or three sessions to finish, but they were some of your best work, honestly.

“Never heard of that one.” Mike quipped as he crunched on a Pringle.

“Shush.” Eddie snapped beside you, and you held back some giggles.

“Tonight we’ll be playing the Shadows of Evercrest. One of the darkest and most mysterious kingdoms of all- it’s a kingdom on the brink of being completely engulfed by darkness brought on by dark magic and ancient curses. Most recently, there have been many disappearances in the kingdom. Each disappearance has brought the kingdom closer and closer to being overthrown.”

Everyone was dead silent as they looked at you in shock as you felt yourself returning back to your old ways of being a dungeon master. You had the entire attention of the whole table, and you started to get sweaty hands. Eddie placed a gentle hand on your leg and squeezed it, you looked at him- his eyes were full of admiration as he encouraged you to continue on.

An hour into gameplay, you had another drink and you were feeling bold enough to reveal the first twist of the night.

“Elara’s influence in the kingdom is growing stronger, but how? When you’ve all been so successful so far.” You sipped and placed your glass down to your left. “There is a traitor among the allies.” Gasps were heard from all around.

“No! Absolutely not!” Dustin exclaimed, slamming his fist down, “that’s-”

“That’s how it goes, my friend. Elara has enchanted an ally, with her dark magic.” You waved your hand over them as if you were a witch yourself, pretending to cast a spell over them. “The illness that swept over Evercrest took her sister, and now she has plagued the kingdom with these disappearances seeking revenge in the name of her sister. The ally has been enchanted by her.” You kept on, “Will you confront your former ally and try to redeem them, or will you cut ties and focus on stopping Elara’s plans?” You sat back in the chair and watched as the group was talking amongst themselves and deciding what to do.

“Can we break?” Will asked as he raised his hand, almost afraid of what you were going to say.

“Absolutely.” Eddie answered for you, grabbing your notebook from the table so no one could peek, then clutching your hand and dragging you out the side exit door of the breakroom into the dark alleyway. “You. Have. No. Idea. What. You’re. Doing. To. Me.” He pinned you against the brick wall kissing your neck between words, the coldness was a harsh contrast to the warmth from his mouth. “Fuck, you’re such a goddamn nerd too, driving me crazy when you’re like this.” He nipped at your neck and worked his free hand over your body as you bit back moans.

“Never knew I did this to you, Eddie.” You chuckled as you entwined a hand of yours into his curls, letting him continue to scatter kisses over your exposed neck and chest. “Don’t leave a mark, they’ll know.”

“As if my raging boner isn’t enough of a hint, fuck.” He was out of breath as he pressed his forehead against yours. “That, t-that’s my girl back there. Not that bullshit cheerleader who was a fucking bully in high school.” You kissed him on the lips and he pulled you close by your neck. “I don’t wanna go back in there, ‘wanna take you right here.” His hand slid down to your lower back, then to your ass where he squeezed it and pulled it to meet his groin where he was very obviously hard.

“Eddie, we can’t. I promise as soon as we get back to your place we can, we’ve still got another few hours left.”

He quickly shook his head as he smothered you with more kisses, “can’t wait that long.”

“You’re gonna have to.” You pushed him off of you gently, grabbed the book from him and opened the door, walking back into the room, grabbing water and sitting back down in your chair. The rest of the room were gathered in separate groups, probably discussing game plans, and your absence didn’t seem to have been a problem for anyone to bring up thankfully. A few minutes later, a more calm (and obviously now high) Eddie returned to his seat beside you and winked at you, giving you a sinking feeling in your stomach that felt like butterflies mixed with a bit more of a tornado feeling.

“Alright, everyone ready to keep on?” You interrupted their quiet discussions.

“Question is, can you two kids keep it in your pants till we’re through?” Dustin joked as he sat down.

“Ask her, she’s the one who-” you lightly slapped Eddie on the chest to shut him up.

“Excuse you.” You fussed at him and everyone groaned. “It was all him, I swear.”

They all settled down and got ready, and the next two hours flew by. Finally you were getting to the end, and you were really proud of how everyone had handled your twists and turns to the campaign. You stood up to announce the next twist, “As you’ve now successfully uncovered all of Elara’s tragic past, you’ve all ended your quest at her lair, of all places. Hundreds of undead minions are waiting for you to cross her. Will you turn around now, after all of this? Or will you fight?”

“We’re going to fight.” Dustin answered for the group.

“Your death.” Erica chimed in and you held in a little laugh.

You went to sit back down, only to be met with the lap of your boyfriend instead of the chair, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. No one let out a groan of grossness at this show of affection, so you leaned into it.

The game continued, “Elara summons even more undead creatures to attack you in her lair.” Everyone fought on, played their hardest that they could to defeat Elara, and you could feel Eddie beaming proudly behind you. “In a moment of redemption, Elara hesitates, a flicker of doubt crossing her face as she gazes upon those who have fought so bravely to stop her. In a final act of sacrifice, she uses her remaining power to banish the darkness that has consumed her and restore peace to the kingdom, her spirit finally finding peace as she fades into the shadows. Thanks to all of you heroes for bravely planning along tonight, and saving the kingdom from an eternity of darkness.” You raised your last sip of your glass at everyone as they cheered triumphantly at their win, and you felt Eddie place a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You could feel his hips slowly moving underneath your ass as you wrapped an arm around his shoulder and sat sideways. “Munson, calm down.”

“Can’t, gotta get some relief. I had to use you to hide it.” He pulled you in for a kiss and you heard a few of the younger “kids” groan out their ewws at your sign of affection, to which you both held up your middle fingers as you continued to kiss each other.

“Alright, we’ll meet again next week.” Eddie pulled back from the kiss abruptly, and loudly announced to the group. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “I forgot to close out a few things for the store tonight because I was too excited about having a guest DM so we’ve gotta stay back and do that anyway. You all can go.” He pushed you off of his lap, quickly, and everyone left the room in groups or pairs, the same ones they arrived in. You were browsing the dark music store that only had a few neon lights and lamps on as everyone seemed to have disappeared.

“Could you have been any more obvious, Munson?” You asked as you felt a pair of arms wrap around you from behind.

“I reaaaaally don’t give a fuck what they know, or think.” He pushed your hair to the side and started kissing behind your ear and you leaned back into him. His hot breath tickled and you shivered, “I also reaaaaally don’t think I can wait till we get home.” His hand was traveling down your stomach and you felt his fingers playing with the hem of your mini skirt. You didn’t stop him as he danced it up higher on your thighs, your body weight leaning more and more into his chest. Your arms were hanging onto his neck as your skirt was now bunched up at your waist, and he was playing with the waistband of your panties.

“Here? S’dark in here but what if someone sees?”

“Don’t give a damn baby, it’s my store, my rules. Now bend over.” He smirked into your neck and pulled your ass against his hard dick, you could feel how thick he was through his jeans already. One of his hands was pulling your lace panties to the side, while his other was skillfully undoing his belt buckle. “You wore these tonight, were you expecting something?”

Honestly, you weren’t. You just hadn’t done laundry to have any other of your more normal underwear clean. “No, promise.”

His hand grabbed at your bare ass cheek and he pulled back and slapped it, “anyone could’ve seen these, you know that, right?” You smirked at his possessiveness, it felt different than when your ex had been possessive. You knew Eddie was proud of you, and you also knew how talkative he was when he was this turned on, so you just let him keep going. You nodded to go along and felt his fingers tease your entrance. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet. I’m surprised you didn’t leave a mark on my jeans.” He lazily rubbed his fingers between the lips of your pussy, and you arched your back to beg for more than what he was giving you, pressing your hands into the wooden record display for support.

“Fuck, stop teasing me.” You looked back and saw him smirking, as he unzipped his jeans and let them slide down his thighs. He started lazily stroking up and down his dick, matching the pace of his slow fingers that were touching you earlier.

“You should know all about teasing, shouldn’t you? Grinding your ass on me, leaning over that fucking table tonight so I could just almost see what I wanted. Wanted to shove that skirt up and lick you clean tonight.” He stroked himself quicker and quicker, “You ready for me, babe?” He asked as he teased your entrance with his hard length, and you whimpered as he teased you with an inch or so, then pulled back out. He kept on a few times until you’d had enough and you thrust your hips back to take his whole length, making him grab onto your hips. “Fuck yeah,” Eddie grunted as he fucked into you and steadied your hips. The store was quiet except the low humming of the neon lights, and your quiet, low moans.

He pulled your hair in a makeshift ponytail with his hands and yanked your head up to his. “You drive me crazy, baby, do you know that? Can’t believe you’re mine after all these years.” He was relentless as he pounded into you, a skilled hand snaking around your front and circling your clit to bring you to your height of pleasure.

You felt yourself clenching around him as he kept a steady pace, and you came quickly before he followed suit, and allowing himself to collapse onto you.

“Goddamn, I can’t last more than a few minutes with you ever, can I?” You could feel his cheeks warm against your back as he chuckled and twitched inside.

“It’s fine, really. You’ve made up for it plenty of other times.” He let out a sharp sigh as he pulled out of you, and helped you fix your outfit and then his own. You both were smirking at each other as you wandered around the store.

“Ready to go?” He asked as he swung the keys around his pointer finger.

“I thought you had to- you’re such a bullshitter, Munson.” You realized he’d lied to everyone about needing to do something at the shop to get everyone to leave earlier.

“Maybe so, Harrington, maybe so.” He opened the door for you and you followed out after he finished locking the doors to the music store.

-

“They trust you with this?” You eyed your brother as you helped him scoot the grill out onto the patio around the pool.

“Mom and dad barely use it, so I taught myself how to a while ago.”

“Shocked that you haven’t burned the house down yet.” You muttered to him and he rolled his eyes back in return. It was an oddly warm fall Sunday, so you (Steve) had decided to have everyone over for a pool party, which you were sure would turn into a night party too. Absent parents were a plus sometimes, and you had Monday off of work because your dad had decided to close for the day.

You were both busy setting up the food and drinks in the kitchen when someone rang the doorbell, so you jogged to the front door to let them in.

In a line, all of the “kids” walked in, Dustin being last and giving you a high five as if you were Steve. You could tell they felt comfortable here as they piled in and made themselves comfortable before heading out back.

“We just… let them party?” You asked, coming around the kitchen corner to your brother.

“Nah, maybe a beer or two but they know the rules. I’m still the babysitter a little bit. Where’s Eddie?”

You shrugged, he was supposed to be here early to help you two get ready but he was either early, or late- never on time, but it was unusual that you hadn’t heard from him. “Must be running late.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at you as he sliced tomatoes. “What?” He asked as you eyed him.

“Just, not like him, that’s all.” You watched as he arranged the tomatoes and lettuce on a plate for burgers. “Alright, what do you know? You’ve never been so precise about where toppings for a burger go on a plate. I really don’t see anyone who’s coming even putting a vegetable on their burger.” You crossed your arms and leaned your hip against the counter.

“Nothing.” He moved on to cutting up an onion, and you snatched the knife from his hand.

“Steve.” He said your name back to you in the same sassy tone. “What do you know?”

He sighed, “He didn’t wanna come because it’s a pool party, and he’s nervous about everyone seeing his scars. So he said he was gonna say something came up with the store so he didn’t have to come, then come later tonight.”

You frowned, you felt bad for Eddie because he was so sensitive about his appearance. Everyone knew what they were from, but you guessed that no one had seen him since the wounds had healed, he didn’t strike you as the shirtless guy at a pool type even before, but especially now.

“I’m gonna go call him really quick, can you handle everything for a minute?” You asked Steve as you handed him his knife back, and he seemed to be finishing up any prep work that needed to be done.

The phone line rang three times as you sat on your bed waiting for someone to pick up.

“Hello?” It was Wayne, which took you by surprise.

“Hey uncle Wayne, it’s me. Is Eddie there?”

“Yeah, he’s practicin’ right now. Want me to get him for you?”

“Please.” You chewed on your lip, debating telling him it’s an emergency to hopefully have a better chance at getting him on the phone but you didn’t want to add to any anxiety he already has. You heard multiple footsteps before you heard the phone cord clinking against the plastic phone.

“Hey baby.” He sounded sweet and… oblivious?

“Hey, are you coming over? Steve’s about to get the grill going I think, and I’m kinda worried that he’s going to set something on fire, or give us all food poisoning.”

“I’m uh, I’m gonna come over later. Still practicing some today, and not really feeling like I wanna swim. Wayne’s home too and-”

“Steve told me you’re worried about everyone seeing your scars.” You blurted it out, immediately regretting it.

“I-I… yeah.” He sighed. You couldn’t see him, but you were willing to bet he was running his hand over his face and through his hair right now. “I know everyone’s got them, and they saw me all fucked up but, you know how I am.”

“Eddie, they’re your friends. And you don’t have to even swim, just come hang out with everybody. No ones gonna pressure you to swim.” You paced your room and looked out the back window of your room that overlooked the pool. Robin had arrived and was wearing a button up top, unbuttoned over her swimsuit. Steve was of course shirtless already with his swim trunks on, and all the younger kids were in the pool swimming. Nancy was in a cute striped one piece, and Jonathan had on shorts and a t-shirt. “Not everyone is swimming, and no ones gonna care if you don’t.”

“You really don’t think they’ll care?”

“No, Eddie. Come on over.”

He sighed, “Alright, give me a few minutes and I’ll leave. If I get pushed in, I’m blaming you.”

“Okay, you can fully blame me if someone else pushes you into the pool.” You laughed at him.

“Don’t wanna mess this hair up either, I’m actually having a really good hair day today.”

You giggled again at the thought of his mop of a mane getting wet from the pool, “I’m sure you are, every day is a good hair day for you.”

“Alright, Harrington.” He said, emphasizing the “hair”, “I’ll see you soon.” You hung up and ran down the stairs, and headed straight for the backyard.

“He’s coming but he’s not gonna swim, and please don’t push him in.” You said to your brother as he was crouched down getting the grill going, or at least attempting to.

“Thank god because I have no idea how to start this stupid thing.” He stood up and you were seeing his scars for the first time, too. The one on his face was obviously there and you were used to it, but it was so much smaller. You guys had been night swimming a few times since you had been home, but you hadn’t paid much attention or seen them like you could right now. He had one on the left of his abdomen that still looked pretty gnarly.

“I didn't realize how bad-”

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad, I know. Well, it was. I think just pretending they’re not there is the only way I can act like things are back to normal now.” He spoke softly as he pushed his sunglasses back up on his nose. “Gonna go grab a drink, you want one?”

“Just a water is fine for now.” You said as he walked away, the scars on his back just as pink as the ones on his front. You found Robin settled in on a pool chair and sat at the foot of her chair. She had already found a beer and was watching the kids play a game of chicken. Max and Lucas were very clearly about to win against Mike and Will.

“Your lover not gonna make it?”

“He’s on his way, he was a little hesitant to come over to swim.” You said, and Robin nodded, thankfully understanding what you were meaning without saying anything.

“I think he has the hardest time with it all because he thinks he should’ve died.” She said very bluntly, sitting back in the lounger. Steve walked over and tossed you a water, then returned back to the grill. “Like, he actually did. And the scars are just another reminder- as if any of us need one, and I don’t think he wants to be a burden and make anyone remember it anymore than we already do, you know?” You nodded, realizing again how little you had understood about what everyone had been through while you were gone, despite hearing so much about it all from them. “He had it the worst of us, but you know that. Steve was pretty fucked up too. He waited until Eddie was even somewhat stable before he got himself looked at, they could have patched him up way better but he wouldn’t leave his side.”

“What?”

“Oh yeah. Days. He spent days after we’d all been evaluated, cleaned up, stitches or whatever we needed before he said that he needed any medical attention other than what we could see on his face. Nancy finally told him he smelled like blood and sweat and needed to go before he ended up with an infection. I'm still not convinced he didn’t get rabies from those bats... She had to pry him away from Eddie’s bedside. Steve said he felt responsible for him dying, because Eddie sacrificed himself to save him for you.” She was staring out at the pool still, talking about all of this as if it were some lighthearted conversation, and you were left speechless. “When the doctors got their hands on Steve they couldn’t believe how much pain he was in for that many days and didn’t even flinch because he was so good at hiding it, but when they asked him to lie back on the hospital bed to get looked at, he was crying in pain. It was pitiful.”

You still didn’t know what to say as you fumbled with your water bottle. “I hate that I wasn’t here.”

“No, don’t say that. I mean, I hate that you were where you were, but you didn’t want to be here. In Hawkins, or the upside down.”

“I just wish I could’ve been there for them more. Anyone. You guys are so close and I feel like I’m just invading on this, and adding more to it all.”

“No, you’re good for everyone. You being back has helped Steve, and obviously Eddie too. That idiot is crazy about you. When he woke up and found out what had happened to the town, the first thing he asked about was some book in his trailer that none of us knew what he was talking about until Wayne got there after Steve called him to tell him his vitals were improving drastically.”

“What book was it?” You asked, not sure what he could’ve been talking about.

“We all thought he meant his copy of The Hobbit but he was talking about some dungeons and dragons notebook.” Your heart stopped as Robin rambled on longer, for minutes before you realized you weren’t listening at all.

You two settled into a normal conversation, but you kept thinking about the notebook that Eddie was worried in the back of your head until he arrived, he made a quiet entrance versus his usual display of dramatics. He was dressed in a ripped up, sleeveless Slayer tshirt and a very holey pair of black jeans, and a pair of black converse that you rarely saw him in. His hair was tied back loosely and he had a black bandana around his head too. You stopped mid sentence with Robin as you watched him gravitate towards Steve as if he automatically knew he needed help.

“Man, you’ve got it bad for Munson, don’t you?”

“Shut it, Robin.” You slapped her ankle playfully and she laughed at you.

“Have you guys said the l word yet?”

You looked at him again before looking over to her, “No, it hasn’t been that long yet.” You knew Robin was such a romantic at heart- she thought your story of two best friends torn apart, then reunited as “lovers” was the best plot for a romantic story.

“Hasn’t been that long?! You guys were friends for how long before this? And you both knew you had something for each other this whole time?! Come on!” She threw her hands up in the air. “Just say it and see what he says.”

Except, you knew how Eddie felt about the word. There were some things some people- most people actually, didn’t know about his life before he was living with Wayne full time. The only time he heard the word love and it actually meant something was his mom, and he didn’t hear it but a few times from her. And if his dad ever said it, it was when he was quite literally beating love into him. It was a subject you weren’t really ready to introduce into your relationship yet, and you didn’t want to be the one to push it on him either. You were following the cracks of the concrete around the pool until a pair of unlaced shoes caught your attention.

Eddie squatted down to your level of the pool chair and lifted your chin up with his two fingers before placing the most gentle kiss on your lips. “Hi.” He said, his cheeks rosy, and his eyes were a little bit bloodshot to match.

“Hi.” You giggled back, “You okay?”

“Smoked on the way over here, never been better.”

“I’ll leave you two alone, have at it.” Robin got up, abandoning her chair. Eddie replaced her at the top of the chair and motioned for you to scoot up between his legs. You settled with your back on his chest, as his arms wrapped around your body.

“Glad you decided to come. I missed you.” You said as you traced the faint scars on his forearms that were showing.

“Just saw me last night at the show, Harrington. But thanks for making me come here, I think it’ll be good.”

“I didn’t make you come here,” you defended, “I was just trying to get you out of the house and that head of yours for a bit.”

“I know.” He kissed the side of your head, “and I’m thanking you for it.” You’d half expected him to retort back with some type of a half argument comment like he was actually trying to say that you did force him to come here, but you could tell he genuinely was glad to be there. You snuggled in closer to him.

“I think your meds are working, you normally would have said something a little smarter than that back to me.” You said out loud.

“Yeah, I feel less on edge all the time now. ‘S kinda nice.” He hummed.

“Should you be smoking weed while you’re taking it?” You feel him shrug against you. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“Guess we will.” He said.

“I need to run upstairs and change, keep an eye on Steve to make sure he doesn’t burn anything, please.”

“You sure you don’t need any assistance?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes as you made your way back inside to change into your swimsuit.

The first one you grabbed was an older black one that was a two piece bikini, you were a bit less curvy back in high school but you figured it would still fit. You slipped the bottoms and the top on and stared at yourself in the mirror. Your shape had changed so much, not necessarily for the worse by any matter, but you could hear the comments from your mom or Charlie in your head as you took yourself in from every angle in the mirror.

A soft knock rapped on the door, then it slowly opened and you weren’t one bit surprised to see Eddie there. His jaw was slack as he stuttered out a compliment. “Y-you look great.”

You blushed and tucked your arms in front of your tummy, attempting to hide your few pounds, suddenly feeling ashamed.

“I mean it. You look healthy. I know what you’re thinking. I haven’t forgotten what your mom used to say to you. I haven’t either.” He closed the door quietly behind him, then walked over towards you.

“How come I have to be the one confident about my body, but you get to hide yours?” You asked him as he enveloped you in a warm hug and rubbed your soft back.

“That’s a conversation I’m willing to have another day, sweetheart. You don’t have to swim either.”

“But I want to. All I have are bikinis though.”

“And you look fine in it.” He hugged you tighter, but then his arms dropped, “what’s that?”

“What’s what?” You pulled back to look at him and he was focused on your closet. “Oh, that’s just some old high school crap. C’mon, let’s go down to the pool so they don’t think we’re up to something.”

Eddie shook his head as he made his way over to your closet. He didn’t have to stand on his tiptoes to grab the shoebox from the top shelf of your closet. “I know exactly what this is.” He made himself comfortable on the floor of your room, and opened the lid. The laugh that escaped his lips almost sounded like a bit of a cry as he started to pick through the papers and pictures.

“C’mon, Eddie. I’m not in the mood for reliving the past right now.”

“Oh I am. Look at how cute we were.” He showed you a photo of the two of you, and some of your old friends from middle school. “God, I was such a nerd.”

“Was?” You asked as you sat down beside him and watched him carefully dig through your possessions. You watched as he pulled out each picture, most of them had a tiny hole in the corner from a push pin where they’d been displayed in your room. “Had to take all these down in 9th grade when I had my first sleepover with Grace. I didn’t want her to make fun of me. I don't think I’ve looked at any of them since.”

Your slightly shaky hand started to sift through the box too, finding a picture from your birthday party in 8th grade- the year your parents had the pool put in. Eddie was beside you, his arm loosely around your shoulder, and you were both grinning from ear to ear, everyone else at the party had smiles too, but none as bright as the two of yours. There was a picture stuck to the back of that one, and it was of you blowing out your birthday candles. Eddie was staring- yes, staring at you with nothing but admiration in his eyes. You realized then that Robin really was right about the two of you. Eddie had found a letter that you both would pass back and forth between classes and was smiling behind his hand as he read it, his eyes seemed to be shrink wrapped with tears ready to fall.

“Man, we were fucking clueless, weren’t we?” He said out loud.

You took a deep breath, “clueless to what?”

“Each other. I’m pretty sure I was in love with you back then.” He continued on, not realizing what he’d said.

“Back then?” You asked, picking at the corner of the picture in your hands.

“Yeah, back then. Look at this,” he pointed to a part of the letter and read it aloud to you as you giggled along. You didn’t want to ruin the moment so you went along with him as you continued pulling out old pictures and letters, some DnD notes, and random little trinkets.

Your heart was aching to say something to him but you didn’t want to press it, so you abruptly stood up and grabbed the box from him, putting the lid back in it.

“That’s enough for right now.” You stood on your tippy toes to place the box back in the top of your closet, where dust had settled around the edges of it for sitting in the same spot for so long.

“I can’t believe you kept all those. Even after the years you were so mean to me.” Eddie came up behind you and took the box from your hands and effortlessly returned it to its place.

“You know me, I keep everything.” You were a little nervous now, not sure where the conversation was going.

“What about pictures of him?” Eddie asked, his voice laced with disgust.

“Eddie, come on. You really think I’d keep any of him? I threw all the ones I had out in Chicago, and Steve got all of the ones out of the house before I made it home.”

“I’m shocked he didn’t make you burn your pictures with me.” He scoffed, pacing around your room.

“He didn’t know I had those.” You watched him scratch at his neck as he kept pacing. “Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“While we’re on the subject of keeping things… Robin told me that my DnD notebook was one of the first things you asked about after you woke up.”

“Yeah, I was worried that you would kill me if we ever talked again and I’d lost it.”

“Lost it? Eddie, I didn’t even know that thing still existed until you showed it to me.”

“Well. It’s the one thing that I had of you, of yours that was still… you. You know? You just switched in freshman year to this completely different girl desperate to fit in. I tried calling you, but your mom always made up whatever excuse you told her. Cheerleading practice, or at Grace’s house, or whatever it was. Finally I just gave up after you started looking at me with disgust at school if we saw each other. Then your sophomore year I knew I was never going to get you back, you were long gone.”

“But I’m back now.” You said quietly.

“Yeah, but at what cost?” He let out a disparaging smile, “You were with that abusive piece of shit for all of those years, and I was here rotting in Hawkins, being the freak of the town and then almost dying. Now you’re back, and you’re just… you’re back in my life again. But nothing is the same.” He sounded defeated.

You looked at him with tears in your eyes, and you felt your heart crumpling down.

“Eddie, I’m sorry.”

“Everyone is. Everyone is so sorry about what happened, aren’t they?”

“Eddie, please.” You grabbed his arm as he tried to walk out. He pulled it away from you, then turned to face you.

“I loved you, but you didn’t see it. You didn’t care, you just wanted to be the popular girl, you wanted everyone to love you. Sweetheart, none of those people did, except me.”

“I never told my mom to make up lies about where I was. I didn’t know you ever tried to call me. I thought you hated me for joining the cheerleading team.”

“Hate you? I could never hate you. Fuck- all of that bullshit you said to me in high school and look where we’re at now.” His chest was heaving, and you were feeling woozy from the emotional whiplash of the conversation.

“Where are we now?” You asked, afraid of the answer. Eddie’s hands slowly reached up to your face, and he didn’t miss the tiny flinch you made as you realized he was about to touch you.

“I think you know where I’m at.” His hands were resting on either side of your jaw, and his thumbs were slowly moving in circles as he looked you in the eyes, searching for something. “I said I could never hate you, didn’t I?” You nodded slowly at him, “it’s because I never stopped loving you.”

He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your lips before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours.

“Eddie, I love you too.” You said, placing your hands over his and squeezing them. You watched as his eyes squeezed so hard that tears started falling.

“Don’t say it just because I said it. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it, you know-” he started getting himself riled up the more he spoke.

“I do know, and that’s why I’m saying it. I love you.” His eyes were still shut and he was breathing through his nose. “Look at me.” You grabbed his face to move it to yours and watched as his eyes opened up. “I can’t say it enough, I love you, Eddie.” He leaned in after he accepted your confession and kissed you again, still a quick kiss, but so much feeling behind it. “And I promise you, all of those people out there love you too. But not… not as much as I do.”

He smiled at you before grabbing your hand and leading you downstairs, and back out to the pool. To your surprise, no one made any comments about the two of you being gone together, and not as much time must have passed as you thought because Steve was just putting burgers and some chicken on the grill. Eddie kissed the side of your head before he went to the cooler for a beer and resumed his stand beside your brother.

Alright, you confessed your love to him, so why do you feel like you could hurl up the last 3 days worth of food as you stared at him?

“Grabbing a beer, you want one?” Nancy placed a hand on your shoulder and asked as she walked by you standing on the hot concrete, and you nodded a quick yes to her.

“Thanks.” You said as she handed one back to you.

“You alright? You look a little bit sick to your stomach.”

“Yeah, just hanging in there. We had another one of those big conversations and I feel a little off.”

“C’mon, walk it off and come sit over here with us and forget about it for a minute.” You followed her over to where Jonathan and Robin both were talking in depth about some movie ending and why it should’ve ended differently.

“Hey guys.” You sat down, sharing a chair with Robin again. You started drinking your beer quickly as they changed the conversation and you joined in as you heard laughter and splashing in the background. Minutes later, it all stopped. Everything. The laughing, the splashing, and any noise other than the few birds that were still around.

You four looked to the pool. Everyone’s head was accounted for, and then you looked over at the grill where Steve was laughing as he flipped a burger. Steve, just Steve. Where was Eddie? Suddenly you were being lifted up by a very cold, wet body and were getting thrown into the pool, beer in hand and all.

“What the fuck?!” You said as you came up from the water. Eddie was also… in the pool with you. Shirtless, but his jeans on.

“Dustin made a bet and I had to follow up on my end.” He swooped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him. “Love you.” He kissed you on the lips before he let go of you and swam to the side of the pool. He pushed himself out of the water, making a show of his wet hair, then pulled his jeans off to be left just in his boxers.

“Hey man, put some trunks on.” Steve yelled at him before putting the lid down on the grill and running inside. He jogged back out with a pair of his red ones and tossed them at Eddie’s chest, “for your decency.” He said with a smirk, and Eddie put them on and hopped in the pool with everyone else, and a fresh beer for you.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Can you please do a situation where kusum I finds Doyle under the bed after y/n and had sex

I talked about Doyle being absolutely down bad for (your name) when he first met her even though she’s Katsumi’s girlfriend but I’m going to take it to a whole new level with a short story.

Yandere Baki Short Stories:

The Spectator

Katsumi catching Doyle being a weirdo 🌶️

Minors DNI. Creepy behavior

Afab reader

Hector Doyle knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way for (your name) but he did. How could he not! She was so sweet to him and she always fed him whenever he dropped by Katsumi and Retsu’s place… not to mention how beautiful (your name) looked in her skirts… it was so hard for Doyle not to pounce on her. Doyle was just afraid of Katsumi jumping him.

He loved (your name) so much and she didn’t even notice… he hated his feelings go unreciprocated… it’s why he began to steal from her. Doyle knew he couldn’t have (your name) since she was dating Katsumi and it’s the only way he could calm down his feelings! He swore he wasn’t trying to be weird.

It was little trinkets at first. Belongings she wouldn’t even notice were missing! Hair ties she left thrown around, a plastic spoon she used for an ice cream date with Katsumi, and even some toe nail clippings… but it wasn’t enough. Doyle needed more!

His obsession only began to spiral from there. Soon he was painting his nails the same color as (your name)’s so it would feel like he was matching with her! Like he was in a relationship with her!

Doyle was cleaning out (your name)’s brush and savoring every tiny hair from it so he could turn them into a bracelet. One little piece of her closer to his heart! Sometimes he could smell her shampoo on it… just the thought of that made his pants tighten… how exhilarating.

Doyle was also fond of wearing (your name)‘s clothes. It must’ve been fate that he could fit into her heels… would she want to dress up with him? Or how about she lets him pick out an outfit for her? Doyle was sure he could pick out something way better than Katsumi.

Doyle would’ve never thought of himself as a panty or sock thief but here he was… sniffing the soiled garments and occasionally putting them in his mouth. Doyle just couldn’t help himself! Anything to be closer to (your name)!

Today was just another day of him going through (your name)’s soiled linen as he replaced them with the ones he stole last week…

But he heard the front door open this time and he didn’t have time to slip out… so he shoved one of the soiled panties into his mouth and crawled under the bed. He couldn’t let you know he was here… being a creep. Doyle could just slip away once she was asleep.

Doyle’s heart stopped when he heard Katsumi’s voice as well. No… (your name) didn’t invite Katsumi over often… what if… Doyle heard the sound of kissing down the hall and the shuffling of fabric. They were going to have sex weren’t they?

Doyle felt tears gather in his eyes as his pants tightened. How shameful was it to enjoy listening to the woman he’s in love with get railed by another man.

Doyle nearly smacked his head on the bed when he heard the bedroom door slam open. His red eyes widened when he saw the bare forms of both (your name) and Katsumi in the full body mirror. His hand was immediately shoved in his pants as he watched Katsumi begin to kiss down her neck and grope at her fleshy ass. This was all too much for the assassin to handle…

“Katsumi, you promised you’d use protection.” (Your name) whined as Katsumi shoved her onto the bed with a smirk.

Doyle was well aware of the fact that (your name) didn’t want children. They’ve discussed it over tea before. It upset him with how pushy Katsumi was about having kids. Doyle would never treat her in such a way.

“And I promised you we’re going to get married soon so don’t worry about it so much.” Katsumi continued pressing his lips against hers with a smile. “I just want to give everything I have to my baby.”

(Your name) wrapped her arms around Katsumi’s neck. She knew there was no point in arguing with Katsumi and his stupid breeding kink. It’s why she kept track of her cycle and kept plan b in her bathroom cupboard. She wasn’t ready to have a baby quite yet.

Katsumi slipped himself inside with ease. A dreamy sigh escaping his throat. He was so happy to always be like this with his beautiful girlfriend… hopefully wife soon… but he had a little troll under the bridge to take care of first. Just what did Katsumi have to do to get Doyle to understand (your name) was his?

Katsumi started thrusting at a rough pace, (your name) grabbing his shoulders for support in shock. Her nails digging into the skin on his back, leaving little red crescents in their wake.

“Ah! Katsumi!” (Your name) moaned as Katsumi began thrusting like a madman. He was never like this… like an animal. But she really liked it. This was so much better than it usually was. “Just like that!”

Katsumi smirked as he glanced at the mirror. His eyes meeting Doyle’s. Look how good he made (your name) feel. It was never going to be Doyle on top of her or anyone else. She was his.

Katsumi brought grabbed (your name)‘s chin and kissed her. Her legs immediately wrapping around his waist. She didn’t know what had gotten into Katsumi but she adored it.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Katsumi kissed her cheeks as she struggled for words at his brutal pace.

“More. I want more.” She whined as she tried to use her feet to push Katsumi to go faster.

Doyle was jerking himself like a mad man to try to keep up with the show he was getting. He didn’t care that Katsumi knew he was here. Doyle laid his free palm on the bed as he felt it shake above him. This was so much better than just dreaming of hearing her moans and screams.

Katsumi smiled as he obeyed, a scream ripping from (your name)’s throat. Her eyes rolling back and her toes curling as his thumb began to tease her clit. He was already pushing her over the edge.

“Yes! God, Katsumi!” (Your name) cried out as she came, Doyle smiling as he came with her. The red head panting as tears fell down his cheeks. He never came so hard in his life… a shame the bed kept shaking since it wasn’t him that was fucking (your name) into the mattress.

“You’re mine.” Katsumi hissed as his hips started to stutter. “All mine!”

Katsumi came inside of her with a moan. The dark haired man stilling on top of her with a dopey smile. His lips kissing all over her face and neck. God he loved her so much.

“How about I carry you into the bath?” Katsumi offered as (your name) smiled at him.

“I’d love that.”

Doyle bit his lip in anger as he watched Katsumi carry (your name) bridal style into the bathroom. That bastard was rubbing it in his face!

Doyle slipped out from under the bed when he heard the water start to run. But a certain Karateka stopped him.

“Now where do you think you’re going?” Katsumi asked Doyle who clenched his fists. “You lurk around her place like a rat and I hate it.”

“Away-“ Doyle felt something wet but him on the forehead. The convict instantly trembling in disgust. Did Katsumi just…

“That’s what I mixed inside of (your name).” Katsumi gave Doyle a cocky smirk. “A piece of her and I if you really want to know. Something you will never have.”

Doyle wiped the cum off his face with a scowl. How dare that bastard rub his victory in his face. Should he just kill him? No… that would make (your name) sad.

“Fuck you.” Doyle hissed but Katsumi smirked.

“Get out of here before I beat the shit out of you.” Katsumi hissed under his breath, the assassin slinked away in the shadows.

“Katsumi! What’s taking you so long?” (Your name) called from the tub in the bathroom. Katsumi quickly perking up.

“I just had to take care of something, honey! I thought I saw a rat under the bed was all.”

(Your name) smirked from in the tub. She would never admit it but she really got off having Doyle watch her and Katsumi go at it. She really enjoyed having a spectator.

[anopendoor]

Truth or dare / rival-ish to lovers / boarding school / alcohol / groping / dub-con / mature / drabble 😬

~ For ReyloHot1s ~

🌶️

It started out as a dare.

“Make out with Ben Solo and slip this hot pepper into his mouth.”

Bazine dangled it by the stem in front of Rey’s face. Her nose tingled as the spice prickled her senses. She could already feel her eyes watering.

Rey glanced over across the auditorium where Ben stood with a group of his friends, towering above the rest of them. White button-down and maroon tie. She wanted to yank him by the end of it. Pull him down to her level.

He looked like goddamn sex on legs. He always did. The bastard.

Maybe it was the alcohol she downed in the dorm pre-game, but something made her think she could do it. She could accomplish this dare. She wanted to.

Was it because this was her chance to see what all the fuss was about? To pursue her thinly veiled crush and have an excuse to do more than roll her eyes at him when he did something so stupidly boyish (while looking hot as hell) with his friends? Was it also an opportunity to wipe that smug smile off his face when she planted one on him and passed that pepper between their lips?

Fuck it. She looked hot. Her tits looked great. She’d give him a kiss he’d never fucking forget—

Rey took the little pepper out of Bazine’s outstretched hand and turned on her heel.

“Oh my god, is she really going to—“

She didn’t hear anything else whichever of her friends had to say because she was halfway across the dance floor already. The stem of the pepper twirled between her thumb and forefinger at her side.

Ben caught sight of her approach, his demeanor instantly changing. He straightened, growing impossibly taller. That smirk and lopsided grin sliding into place in greeting.

Cocky bastard.

She noticed how his eyes scanned her in the darkened room. At the tight black tube top she wore that hugged her chest in all the right places. A similar tight black skirt stretched across her hips. His plush lips pressed together as he pushed his enormous hands into his pockets. The air around him sizzled with heat. His friends part, making space for her, eyebrows raised at her courage.

Rey didn’t give him a chance to say the first word, falling into her earlier compulsion and yanking him closer to her by his necktie.

“You’re coming with me.”

🌶️

They moved to a corner of the auditorium to the sound of hoots and low-pitched “Yoooos” trailing behind them as Ben let her drag him away from his friends.

Rey glanced back once to see Vicrul give Ben a bro shake, like he was congratulating him on his accomplishments.

She wondered how smug he’d be in a few minutes. As she had her back to him, Rey put the pepper into her mouth, careful not to bite down just yet.

The beat of the music thumped in time with her pulse as she swung Ben around herself, forcing him against the wall. He hit it with a soft grunt she heard so deep in his chest.

He just watched her, waiting for her to make her move. The air around them was unspoken as the question flitted in her head.

I dare you.

She couldn’t speak with the pepper in her mouth. Didn’t want to accidentally trigger the effects and ruin her chance at winning this dare. She was going to cement her status as Rey Niima: stubborn, (possibly stupid), but a girl you don’t mess with. A girl who doesn’t take anyone’s shit. Least of all Ben Solo.

Without a word she stepped into his space. It was subtle—how his throat bobbed in anticipation, his eyes slightly dropping to this half-lidded expression as they drop to her mouth. His hands didn’t lift to touch her. Not yet. Still waiting for her to determine if they should.

Suddenly, he seemed less like the cock-sure jock that was always messing around with his friends across campus. The rumors of his escapades were endless. He’d often have his arm around a girl in the dining hall, whispering in her ear, making her laugh.

It didn’t make Rey jealous. Not at all. Their dynamic was different. And she wasn’t going to let him know that she wanted to know what all the fuss was about. That their slight rival dynamic wasn’t just because she liked knocking him down a few pegs, but because she thought about the softness of his lips while staring off into space in Chem—

Rey shook her head. Now wasn’t the time for this. Focus.

One hand went up and her fingers curled around his striped Jedi Academy tie. He would wear a piece of his school uniform to the one event where they’re allowed to finally be out of dress code. Rey knew she was pushing it with the sliver of skin exposing her belly. But Ms. Kanata only gave her and her friends a raised brow.

At least, that’s all the reprimanding Rey may get unless she’s caught making out with the school’s star striker in a quieter corner of the auditorium.

Which… is what she should be doing right now. Their friends were surely watching them from across the room. Her friends waiting to see Ben’s reaction. His ready to pat him on the back for getting Rey Niima to actually make a move.

She didn’t just kiss anyone, and definitely not at a school dance. But there’s never been a dare involved before. And she hated to lose.

Deciding it was like ripping a band-aid off, Rey pulled him by his tie and one corner of his shirt collar, closing her eyes as their lips collide.

It was closed-mouthed at first, until she remembered she had a scorching hot pepper on her tongue that she was supposed to swipe with Ben’s. But he was the one who was quick to change that, taking the kiss as his green light.

His hands were on her ass in a second, surprising her as he crushed her against the hard panes of his chest. Rey swore she could feel the ridges of his six-pack against her exposed skin. It was like melding her body against a boulder. She gasped, allowing a small part in her lips which Ben took advantage of.

His tongue dove first, slipping into her mouth and prying her open. She’s so lost in it she forgets about the pepper entirely. Ben didn’t seem to notice. Their tongues tangled together in a dance—or more like a fight for dominance.

The way Ben sucked at her face made her feel like she was his only source of air. And shit, he was really good at it. At making the world fall away and entirely occupying all of her senses.

When it was actually necessary they both breathe, Ben pulled away only to thread one of his hands around her neck, holding her close as he whispered in her ear, “You’re so fucking hot.”

His words made Rey’s molars grind together as the muscles in her body tightened. Heat coursed down her from her head to her toes. Beneath her tight skirt, her thighs pressed against each other, wanting to relieve some of the tension that had sweat beginning to permeate her skin.

As she thought about willing her heart to steady, Ben’s mouth latched back onto hers, satisfied with the effect of his words. When his tongue next delved into her mouth the feeling is sharp, like a white hot slice and—

—and her mouth was on fire.

She must’ve bit down on the pepper, and usually her tolerance for heat is hers alone to tackle, but as the oil from the chili pepper swirled against Ben’s tongue trying to carve out as much space into her mouth as he could, suddenly he stopped.

The spice had to have hit him as Rey sensed her own mouth start to go numb. Ben pulled away and spat on the floor beside them. Rey glanced quickly down to see the half-bitten pepper blearily on the darkened floor.

“The fuck—“ she heard Ben curse as he tried to make sense of her dare.

Except, he didn’t push her away as realization hit in the form of his scorching mouth. Some of the strobe lights from the dance floor flick over to them and Rey could see the intensity in his eyes.

Like a hawk snatching its prey, Ben hunched down.

“You like it when it hurts, Niima?” Ben’s voice grated against her throat. Her mouth was one fire, she couldn’t taste anything. Could hardly feel anything either. Her tolerance for spicy foods was commendable, and yet she burned. Everywhere.

It was a different kind of burn than from the hot pepper she had sliding against her tongue moments before. It was the kind that had all of her nerve endings on fire. A heat that made her heart pound against her chest. This desire to keep it lit is what had her licking a stripe up the column of Ben’s neck. The taste of his sweat tingled against her numbed tastebuds.

She felt his reaction in the grip of his hands on her hips, pulling her tightly against his body as he ground his erection into her. Hard bulge obvious against the soft swell between her hips.

Despite what she tried to do to him, he seemed unfazed. Or rather, the reaction she expected was not what she got.

His mouth found hers again as he mauled at her. As if the harder he kissed her would compensate for the prank she played on him. On herself.

Ben’s hands slid around her ass and he squeezed.

“What I want to do to you,” he growled, loud enough for her to hear as her mouth tore away and she smashed her lips and teeth against his jaw then his jugular.

Her hands scrabbled at his shirt, blindly feeling for his tie and top buttons. He let her do whatever she wanted, mindless to it all except for the task of keeping her close.

Whatever he wanted to do to her, she wanted him to too.

Rey nipped at his skin as his hands kept groping her ass, as if he couldn’t get enough of it. Of her.

His thumbs hooked into the elastic waistband of her skirt and she wished she’d worn a shorter one. One that he could had slid his hand up and touched her where she wanted him to.

Time evaded them as they stayed in that corner. Long enough for the effects of the pepper to wear away. Long enough for Rey to blink and notice the music had stopped and the lights were up.

Rey blinked, tearing herself far enough away for her eyesight to clear. As it does, she noticed Ben’s hair slightly damp and sweaty. His chest panted against hers. His lips were flushed red, likely similar to hers but due to their height difference, Rey’s eyes landed on his neck where pinkish bruises had started to form. His tie was loosened, somehow some of the buttons of his shirt had come undone, likely from her grabbing at him, revealing some of that delectable chest…

At the sound of catcalls and whistles, Rey realized they were no longer shrouded in darkness, that Bazine was cheering her on for fulfilling her dare. That everyone knew just what they were doing.

Surely a chaperone was going to stomp toward them and yank them apart—

“Hey—“ Ben’s voice was hoarse, but it snapped her attention right back to him.

Their bodies were still pressed against each other. She could feel his hand, hot and massive on her back. She couldn’t stop staring at what she did to his neck…

“Wanna go back to my dorm?” That throat bobbed with his words, and while Rey heard them (every deep syllable), it took a while for her to realize just what he’d asked. He was still hard against her, despite their now obvious audience.

It was then that she realized she hadn’t said a word, not since this whole thing started. She wasn’t sure if she even had a voice.

But she did know what she wanted.

Rey’s gaze flicked up to Ben’s, shivering at the look in his eyes. The heat that had nothing to do with the hot pepper (but maybe a little to do with her dare).

She nodded.

Ben reached between them with the hand that wasn’t on her back, adjusting himself, but from what Rey could feel, she wasn’t sure if there was any hiding that.

Guess the rumors about his size were true…

By the expression on Ben’s face as he stared at her, excitement flared in Rey’s belly. Her lips tingled as she licked them, Ben’s gaze darting to it.

“Fuck, Niima.” She liked how he hissed her name.

Then suddenly, he was tugging her away, hand still on her back as he pulled her to his side and made a beeline to the auditorium doors.

“You’re welcome!” Bazine called as they passed their group of friends.

Rey was too preoccupied (and horny) to care.

And maybe she couldn’t feel her mouth anymore—but she knew she was about to feel a whole lot of something else.

(Ben’s 🌶️)

[gardenofnineveh]

Oh, oh, I am laughing so hard at plumber Aemond! I just can't stop laughing, it's just too good. Please say you'll write a short drabble of Luke, Aemond and Tom's life together. I really like the AU you created.

Dear Anon-chan,

Thank you ☺️ I have gathered a collection of my thoughts that are hopefully entertaining 🥸

Lucerys gives birth to a baby girl. Both Tom and Aemond are totally girl dads 👧 (girl = my precious baby, let me braid your hair; boy = aight boy, you’re getting outta my house as soon as you turn 18)

Tom and Aemond have a fight about naming. Aemond wants to name his daughter Vhagar, but Tom thinks that’s old-fashioned and might get his child bullied in school.

Luke steps in and names the child Lois in honor of Tom’s sister with the middle name Helaena in honor of Aemond’s sister. (Ofc, her last name is Velaryon after Luke)

They rotate on baby tasks. Tom loves to keep the baby on his chest before bed time while he reads a book (*ahem* Kama Sutra to learn ancient Indian knowledge on how to make his sperm more potent than that of Aemond). Little lucu-fruit sometimes chomps down on Tom’s nipples when he holds her like that (just Tom’s, not Luke’s or Aemond’s).

Aemond likes to hold the baby while he stands upright with their cheeks pressed together.

Luke straddles the baby his hip as he goes around the house. (Luke has an excess of 🥛 production, so he pumps to store in the fridge.)

Luke is super protective of his child, but Aemond and Tom takes it to an excessive level.

They are all great parents but have very different parenting styles. Luke is the nurturing, understanding kind. Tom is the let’s play and explore the world, hands-on kind. Aemond is the teaching, knowledgeable kind.

Tom and Aemond are try-hard dads, but also dumb daddies. (See refusal to get a paternity test — they’d just argue that the baby is more like them because of the baby likes something… Arguments start as jokes and quickly escalate to getting physical. Luke has to put them in timeout corner and force them to wear a get-along shirt.)

Whenever one of them is taking care of the baby, the other takes advantage of the free time and gets spicy 🌶️ time with Luke.

Once little lucu-fruit bites Tom’s nipple while Tom is child duty. Tom’s bursts into the bathroom to check on his nipple but instead he finds Aemond and Luke banging. (Luke swears they were just trying to unclog the drain because Aemond is a plumber 🔧)

The three of them have broken the bed frame 🛌 on more than one occasion 😅

Whenever Tom is deployed or Aemond has to travel for work, Aemond and Tom work in a seamless alliance to update each other on Luke’s status.

After his pregnancy, Luke joins a gym because he thinks he should lose some weight (Tom & Aemond are like no, you don’t, you’re perfect ❤️)

Luke’s gym trainer is someone by the name of Osferth. Tom and Aemond quickly intervene after seeing Osferth’s face and convince Luke that they can train him.

Tom is daddy, and Luke is papa. That has been the arrangement since before Aemond was a thing. So Aemond gets called father. (Secretly, Aemond wishes for a cuter name.)

So when little Lois Helaena is in elementary school and learns about this, she begins calling Tom “dad” and Aemond “daddy almond”. Luke is always “papa” 😚 (Aemond’s heart melts.)

Aemond and Tom compete on who can do the best hairdos for their girl. Low key start a YouTube channel for girls’ hairstyles.

After Tom is honorably discharged from the Navy, Aemond and Tom start a Plumbing + HVAC business. (Tom fixed HVAC systems on navy ships.)

Luke, Aemond, and Tom have more children! Luke names their second child, a boy, Vizzy D after Aemond’s father Viserys and Tom’s father Douglas.

Any boy who tries to hit on their girl will be given shit (and fire and blood) from Tom and Aemond. It’s gotten to the point where little Lois has cried to Luke about it multiple times.

The three of them live a simple but fulfilling life full of love 💗

[pagesandpothos]

Key Lime Sky by Al Hess

Key Lime Sky by Al Hess is the final book I'm reading for this year's Pride Reads. It is such a perfect book to end the month on too, because I found it to be utterly charming and such a unique read. It's a science fiction-themed queer romance that releases on August 13, 2024. Here's the official summary:

An alien invasion hits the town of Muddy Gap, but a disgruntled pie aficionado is the only one who seems to remember it… Denver Bryant’s passion for pie has sent him across Wyoming in search of the best slices. Though he dutifully posts reviews on his blog, he’s never been able to recreate his brief moment of viral popularity, and its trickling income isn’t enough to pay his rent next month. Driving home from a roadside diner, Denver witnesses a UFO explode directly over his tiny town of Muddy Gap. When he questions his neighbors, it appears that Denver is the only person to have seen anything – or to care that the residents’ strange behavior, as well as a shower of seashell hail, might be evidence of something extraterrestrial. Being both non-binary and autistic, he’s convinced his reputation as the town eccentric is impeding his quest for answers. Frustrated, he documents the bizarre incidents on his failing pie blog, and his online popularity skyrockets. His readers want the truth, spurring him to get to the bottom of things.

Key Lime Sky is a little strange and a lot of fun. The plot is wild and a little mind-blowing. I'd describe the book as more adventurous and fast-paced over "cozy" but I do see some elements of "cozy sci fi." There are high stakes in this plot though! Denver and friends are working to save themselves, their town, and the world.

The romance between Denver and Ezra is incredibly sweet and well-paced. There's a little spice but the novel spends more time on the emotional aspects of their relationship. The two work well together and I enjoyed seeing them learn to understand each other. Their "meet-cute" is one of the funniest and most charming that I've read in a romance novel in a long time!

The plot and romance are both great but it's the characters that really make this story so enjoyable. First, they are incredibly diverse! Denver is non-binary, queer, and autistic. Ezra is pansexual, Latino, and plus-sized. Taisha, one of their friends and allies in saving the town, is a black transwoman. There is also a host of other supporting characters and quirky townspeople who add a lot of depth to the town of Muddy Gap and to the story as a whole.

I think Denver, who is okay with any pronouns but prefers xe/xem, will be incredibly relatable to many neurodivergent people. At the start of the story, Denver is struggling to connect with people and is often misunderstood or ignored. My heart broke for how isolated xe was feeling. That's not to say that the book is sad or depressing though! Denver is the hero of this story and seeing the people around xem start to appreciate and understand xem felt triumphant to read. Denver is genuinely a fantastic character and is one of my favorite new characters that I've read all year.

I've never read any of this author's other works, but I'm putting them all on my TBR after finishing Key Lime Sky. I was utterly enamored by this story, the characters, and this romance and I can't wait to read everything else by Al Hess!

My Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Tropes/Tags: science fiction, romance, queer, spicy

Spice Level: 🌶️🌶️/5. There are multiple sex scenes that are “Open Door” and mildly descriptive.

Content Warnings: Here are the warnings provided by the author: "profanity; brief violence; anxiety; on-page autistic meltdowns; brief fatphobia; mentions of ableism; mentions of parental drug addiction and verbal abuse; open door sex and sexual elements; hospitalization; alcohol use; mentions of racism, police, and jail time"

Other Things: Be sure to check out the author's website for stunning character portraits drawn by the author!

If you liked this I think you will like Key Lime Sky: August Kitko and the Mechas from Space by Alex White, books with non-binary and neurodivergent main characters

Links: Storygraph | GoodReads| AlHessAuthor.com

Key Lime Sky will be released on August 13, 2024, and is available for pre-order!

I received an advanced copy of this book for free thanks to NetGalley and Angry Robot. The above are my honest feelings on the provided book.

[viscountessevie]

Dark Olympus #0.5: Stone Heart by Katee Robert

Overall Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Spice Level: 🌶️🌶️🌶️ Summary:

In the city of Olympus, people hardly dare to say Medusa's name aloud. She is Athena's agent, the one she sends when she wants someone to disappear. Medusa owes her life to Athena, and if staining her hands with blood is the only way to repay her debt, it's a small price to pay. Until Athena sends him to find Calypso, the mistress of wealthy politician Odysseus. Calypso has done nothing worthy of a death sentence, and her conflicting feelings only worsen when Medusa first sees the woman behind the name. Calypso is beautiful, cunning and above all ready to do anything to save her life, including seducing her potential assassin. But what begins as a ploy to escape quickly turns into a real attraction. Because Medusa is not the cold killer that rumours suggest, and Calypso is much more complex than it seems...

My Review:

So it's been a week since I first read this and these two are still stuck in my head. I just adored this interpretation of their respective myths and how well they meshed well together. We've got disaster lesbian Medusa who thinks she's a monster and no one will ever desire her paired with cool and elegant pansexual Calypso who has only ever been desired in a transactional sense paired together. My my, IS IT BEAUTIFUL!! I seriously needed a full length novel of them exploring the themes of their characters and how true it rang with their original myths. Katee really knocked it out of the park with these two.

I really enjoyed the set up for these two. Like just the hunter and the prey but when they actually meet, Calypso flips the trope on its head. There's just many instances throughout the novella where you think it's going one way and we're given something completely unexpected.

Their sex scene(s) were top tier and it really hits you in the feels which is why I gave the book a full spice rating. It just added to their love story and elevated both their characters since their backstories were a lead up to the scene.

My main complaint is that's IT'S TOO SHORT AND WE DESERVED A FLESHED OUT ENDING. That's why they've been burnt into my brain. The book's ending was a little bit of a cop out and has a very powerful God playing their ex deus machina. So I kind of felt cheated out of the girlies fighting for themselves and their happy ending. Lowkey makes me wanna write my own ending but I don't think I can pull it off to match this book's calibre.

Overall, I'd say this is my fave book of my series so far which surprised me because I did not think anyone could beat Eros and Psyche in Electric Idol! I think anyone who is into romance novels and Greek myths can appreciate this one. The way Katee interwove both Medusa and Calypso's OG myth backstories into a great modern adaptation hit really well. 10/10 would recommend and happy reading!

[wigster07]

Crazy Long Ask Warning:

In regards to “resolving” the storyline with the family in the woods, I think that it needs to be addressed explicitly by Kit. We (readers and you) are all talking about it openly, but I think maybe, as readers, we forget that no one alive, other than Kit, knows what happened that day. Kit can’t move on with this as a secret. We saw that when she asked for more lashes, but she didn’t actually explain herself.

I think the conversation should happen with Airk. He is the one who actually saw the Crone and probably has the best comprehension of what she was up against. (I don’t know why, but my head canon for this story has been that his time in the Immemorial City was significantly harsher than in the show. I guess I need him to be able to understand the trauma Kit went though?) I feel like he is most capable of seeing Kit in full, and that he is one of the only people Kit could actually process things with. Also, I’m going to be honest, Airk is just my all time favorite character, and I think he needs to be Kit’s other half again. Jade has a different role (😉⚔️🌶️👀😍) in Kit’s life, and I think that people sometimes forget that she and Airk will always know each other on a different level entirely.

The problem is that Kit would never bring this up on her own, and might not even discuss it if asked, so in order for this conversation to happen, it would need to be, essentially, “forced”. My main thoughts on how to force this conversation come from PTSD responses. Kit has a nightmare and starts talking in her sleep and wakes up in a (violent?) panic attack. Either Jade isn’t there, or she freaks out too, and Airk comes to help and they talk. Or maybe she sees a kid in the camp get a minor injury playing or something and is thrown into a flashback (Airk helps again!) Alternatively, Airk talks about how he and ??? are getting married and planning on having kids. He “wants to be the best husband, brother, and father possible”, and instead of being happy for him, Kit just freaks out, leading to The Conversation.

I think the main thing is that Airk needs to NOT be shocked. He needs to say something like, “I know that you messed up. That was wrong. I love you. You are my sister. I am so proud of the strides you have made to make amends.” OBVIOUSLY, what Kit did was irredeemable, but that doesn’t mean unforgivable. They are completely different things.

I am not trying to tell you what to write! I just got really excited by the question you asked of what would need to happen for us to deal with the family in the woods!

Oh, and also she needs to make a memorial, and bring them flowers. That can be off the page, though. 😉

This is a great ask and I love the head cannon. I do have a scene outlined where Kit does talk about the little girl. And we have some insight to what Kit knows Airk experienced in the Immemorial City.

It doesn’t quite happen like that but I do love the idea that one day, when Kit does see Airk again maybe they do talk about what Kit has done and how Airk feels about it.

[starligtgalaxy]

chapter 13: Rat-napped!

Mei fumbles around with the dumpling, trying to close it "I feel like this would be easier if I had fingers"

Her, Pigsy and Tang were at the lunar new year festival, making food for people attending.

Pigsy hands a bowl of noodles to a costumer "Thank you! Great happiness and prosperity this Lunar New Year!"

"Mei, is it just me or does Pigsy seem more.." Tang chimes, looking at the pig. "stressed than normal? Why isn't (Y/n) helping, she isn't the person to not show up without telling"

Pigsy sighs "she said she couldn't come because she's too sensitive to loud noises"

"Aw man, poor (Y/n). Staying inside all day sounds like torture" Mei frowns, perching her arms onto the counter.

☄. *. ⋆

The mentioned girl was sitting on her bed, wearing a pair of headphones.

Humming along the music playing on her phone, swinging her heads side to side.She watches the beautiful fireworks, somewhat dissapointed that she wasn't able to help the others.

She looks to her left to be only inches from a pair of red eyes, making her fall off her bed.She closes the window as she stands up, pulling off her headphone.

She turns to her mentor."What's up? I thought you were gonna enjoy the fireworks" She asks.

"As much I love them, I don't like people" Albino rat explains "I want you to go to the festival to grab a snack for us"

(Y/n) deadpans "what?"

"The festival has the best food and I can't get it myself because I have no money and I would have no luck trying steal some in my rat form" The older woman reponds.

(Y/n) sighs "Alright, I won't be gone for long"

She walks out of the door, slipping her headphones back on. She walks down the stairs after selecting a playlist.

Passing by people wearing costumes, cheering. Bright colors were flying around.

She stop at a stand that catches her eyes, having a chart displayed with spicey levels.

Very hot🌶️

Boiling lava🌶️🌶️

Ripped DBK🌶️🌶️🌶️

Aussie heat🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

🔥INFERNO🔥

A boy with red hair glide into view, saying something. (Y/n) lowers her music to hear him.

"-come, dear costumer. What can I get you?"

(Y/n) places her hand on her chin, looking at the chart. "Hmm, I'll take a boiling lava"

"Alright, that'll be 50 Reneminbi" he responds.

(7 dollars)

(Y/n) places down a 50 Reneminbi note. The boy grabs it and walks into the back.

(Y/n) taps her foot as she waited. Ignoring the muffeld screams, thinking they were just her imagination.

The boy returns, putting a tray with barbecue in it. Being red with little sparks coming for it.

(Y/n) grabs a piece and pops in her mouth. Making a little flame out of it.

She perks "That's really good!"

"That wasn't the reaction I was expecting, atleast it wasn't screaming in excruciating pain" The boy says, slightly shrugging."

Huh?" (Y/n) says confused.

"Nothing, have a nice evening"

She shrugs off and walks off, turning the music back up. She closes her eyes, smilling.

Her relaxed moment was cut short when she feel someone tap her shoulder. She turns around to meet a buff spider.He seem to say something about being sorry.

Before (Y/n) could question what he meant, she was knocked out cold and dragged away.

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

it's been 13 chapters, finally Redson shows up and only have like 5 lines. So next chapter DBK and Wukong will show up.

[3raaaachachacha]

9:17 pm

Bang Chan x female reader / 483 words / smut

Warnings: mentions of fake age play, fake school girl role-play, unprotected sex, cursing, riding, dirty talk

Disclaimer: contains 18+ content; minors do not interact

Day one of kinktober - bang chan x age play

⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰

"This isn't weird, is it?" You questioned nervously as you stared at your attire in the mirror across from your bed.

"Not weird, but different," Your husband replied, hands placed on your waist as he stood behind you to take in your appearance.

"Chan, I look like a child in this slutty school attire, and I haven't had my hair in pigtails since like, the 4th grade," You whined playfully.

Chan chuckled behind you, turning you around to place a kiss on your lips for encourage, "Wasn't this what you asked for? For me to treat you like a baby? Like you did something bad?" He smiled encouragingly and waited for the sign to keep going.

Once you gave your husband a shy nod, he placed a chaste kiss onto your lips before pushing you down onto your knees so that you were eye level with his crotch, "Don't make me wait, princess," He teased, rubbing his thumb over your lips.

With shaky hands, you removed Chan's belt before unzipping his trousers and pulling them down along with his boxers in one swift motion. As you were about to use your hands, Chan grabbed the belt and binded your hands behind your bank which caught you off guard, "I'm in charge, remember little one? You do as I say, when I say, got it?"

You eagerly nodded, letting Chan take a hold of the back of your head before pushing you onto his hardened cock. A long sigh escaped Chan's lips at the feeling of your warmth. A few slow thrusts of his hips to get you going before be began to thrust his hips at a fast pace to have you gagging.

"Look at you go, little one," Chan groaned as he tugged at your pigtails, "Sucking daddy's cock like it's your job, instead of doing your homework. Imagine what your mother would say if she knew what we were doing."

You whined and gasped at his words, trying to move your body for some kind of friction but failing miserably. You were so turned on from his treatment and his words that you needed more.

"Fuck, well that's a sight," Chan grinned as he continued to fuck your throat, "You're so horny baby that you're trying to get off by grinding on my shoes. Wow, how pathetic."

Chan felt the vibrations of you humming against his cock which had him groaning, and not long after, he held your head firmly in place as he came down your throat. In one swift motion, Chan had carried you to the bed where he placed you on his lap, hands still tied behind your back as he laid against the headboard and admired.

"Come on little one, ride daddy like I know you want to," He teased, hands caressing and tweaking at your perched nipples, "You'll figure it out, we've got all night anyway."

⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰

- Admin 🌶️

[lexiereadsbooks]

House of Earth and Blood Review

House of Earth and Blood (picture borrowed from Google)

I devoured this book (like usual with SJM) and rate it ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Spicy level 🌶️

Synopsis

Half-Fae, half-human Bryce Quinlan loves her life. By day, she works for an antiquities dealer, selling barely legal magical artifacts, and by night, she parties with her friends, savoring every pleasure Lunathion—otherwise known as Crescent City— has to offer. But it all comes crumbling down when a ruthless murder shakes the very foundations of the city—and Bryce’s world.

Two years later, her job has become a dead end, and she now seeks only blissful oblivion in the city’s most notorious nightclubs. But when the murderer attacks again, Bryce finds herself dragged into the investigation and paired with an infamous Fallen angel whose own brutal past haunts his every step.

Hunt Athalar, personal assassin for the Archangels, wants nothing to do with Bryce Quinlan, despite being ordered to protect her. She stands for everything he once rebelled against and seems more interested in partying than solving the murder, no matter how close to home it might hit. But Hunt soon realizes there’s far more to Bryce than meets the eye—and that he’s going to have to find a way to work with her if they want to solve this case.

As Bryce and Hunt race to untangle the mystery, they have no way of knowing the threads they tug ripple through the underbelly of the city, across warring continents, and down to the darkest levels of Hel, where things that have been sleeping for millennia are beginning to stir...

With unforgettable characters and page-turning suspense, this richly inventive new fantasy series by #1 New York Times bestselling author Sarah J. Maas delves into the heartache of loss, the price of freedom—and the power of love.

Review

So, the reason I didn’t give this a 5 star is because I felt like some of the dialogue was overused— like “Alphahole”. It was funny a couple of times but the amount of times it was used was eye-rolling. There was also a lot of info dumping lol like I was confused about everything for about 100 pages but then I started to remember all of the different details about the universe and lore. I think it’s because it’s more complex than the ACOTAR series with more types of characters, but they’re all thrown at you really quickly so I think that’s where I got confused. 

The tension in this book was really good. There were points where I literally could not put the book down and couldn’t hear anything my boyfriend said to me because I was so absorbed in what was happening. I’m able to see images in my head like a movie, and while SJM’s writing isn’t the best, it’s easy to read, and that makes it all the more enjoyable to me imo. 

I really liked Bryce’s characterization-- she likes to have sex, she’s funny and smart. I really liked how she doesn’t take shit from anyone, even super powerful beings when she herself has no power. I thought it was really refreshing to see this in a character, how she can navigate and survive in a world with her wits and resources, not with magical abilities. 

And Hunt, god, he’s amazing. Super powerful, but is under the thumb of others since he’s enslaved. Lots of angst, but also lots of love in that man. I don’t want to say too much about him so I don’t give anything away in this section. 

I did love the relationship between Hunt and Bryce. I love the tension, their humor, and the little moments between them. I think their relationship is well developed and I like how they’re vulnerable with one another. Hunt Athalar is hot af, and Bryce is too. I also liked how Bryce isn’t described as small- she’s strong, she’s thick, and she’s a bad bitch.

I loved the forced proximity trope, I eat that shit up.

There’s really no spice in this book, there is one scene after the halfway point of the book, but I found that so didn’t particularly mind? The tension kept hyping me up for it but it was almost always interrupted with something relating to the case they were working on, and since I was intrigued about what would happen next I didn’t really mind much.

I’m not usually a fan of different perspectives in a book, but this one was well done in my opinion. Each character had something going on pertaining to the mystery so it never felt boring or slow. The book itself can be slow at times, but I actually kind of liked when the characters had to restart their way of thinking to include new information. 

I also really liked how Bryce has actual parents in this book-- It was nice having family interactions and seeing the dynamics of it since her parents are both human (her biological dad is Fae) and they have like a normal family relationship that I thought was really cute. Love them. 

AND Ruhn!! I loved their dynamic as well, and how you get to see their different perspectives of their relationship. It’s wholesome and I think Ruhn’s character is super well fleshed out and interesting. My favorite part about him is that, even though he and Bryce had a falling out, he still cares for her wellbeing and safety. 

I also LOVED the plot. I know other reviewers were able to predict what was going to happen but I literally could not. I was constantly intrigued and surprised by the mystery plot, and there were several instances where I had to put the book down to process the information given and collect my thoughts about it. It’s fucking crazyyy

Though confusing, I ended up falling in love with the world SJM created. I think the urban world she built is very interesting and beautiful. I like the lore, I love the diversity of races and orientations and how none of the characters feel exactly the same. 

I thought the dynamics of the races were really interesting as well, especially with the Angels. 

I’m currently reading the next book in the series, House of Sky and Breath and will update with another review here when I finish it :) 

Talk to me in the comments: Who was your favorite character? Who would you have liked to see more of? 

Spoilers Below ⬇️ 

I’m not going to reveal every spoiler, but just focus on the ones I really enjoyed. 

Danika was absolutely my favorite character other than Bryce ofc, but I just loooved her. I know she was mainly used to develop the plot of the story, but I just thought she was so interesting and cool. I almost cried at the end when she helped Bryce through her Drop. I just knew that she was going to die at the beginning though, I knew that’s what SJM was going to do since she was trying so hard to attach us to her character. 

I think my favorite part of the whole book was when Ruhn wasn’t upset about Bryce having more of the Starborn power than he did-- he was excited and proud of her too! I really appreciate that even though Bryce herself didn’t think he would be like that. 

And Micah?? At the end when Bryce killed him (which was fucking badass btw) I was like that’s enough slices and then she vacuumed him up too which was honestly hilarious to me. I was glad that we were able to see what Bryce was doing while Hunt was at the Summit, I thought it was interesting to see it in other characters perspectives as well. It just added to the tension super well. 

My favorite FAVORITE part was when Bryce would take pictures on Hunt’s phone, I thought it was so cute and it helped him better connect with his surroundings and kind of humanized him and helped him develop and actual life. I really really liked that. 

SJM was fucking clever with putting the Horn in Bryce’s back tattoo. That was a great plot twist imo

[gamehayapkmod]

Fast Food Maker Kitchen : Burger Pizza Delivery 

Fast Food Maker Kitchen : Burger Pizza Delivery 

Game Fast Food Maker Kitchen : Burger Pizza Delivery  là dòng game Role Playing

Giới thiệu Fast Food Maker Kitchen : Burger Pizza Delivery 

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[waywardxwords]

@zepskies! This was GLORIOUS!

“Not for nothin’, this is probably one in three of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth,” said Dean.

“Oh, really? Makes me curious about the other two,” you said mischievously.

Dean chuckled, his brow dancing. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find out.”

Ohhhh, Dean LOL. I loved his line here—it was very true to the Dean we know and love, and I could totally see him saying it. I definitely blushed at that one, ha 🥰.

I also loved the sweet interaction between them when they were in the kitchen baking. I thought it was perfect how you wrote in some history for both of them (with Dean’s memory of his mom’s apple pie, and then for the reader when talking about George’s cancer). It was such a great way for them to be able to continue to learn about each other, and then dive into some fun.

I love the subtlety of him loving her hair down. Also, totally laughed out loud when she marked his forehead with flour and said “Simba”, and I 10000% read it in Mufasa’s voice (I won’t lie, I’m a Disney kid at heart 🤣).

“Ey, ey!” He raised a warning finger with his free hand. “You’re about to take this to a new level.”

You met his gaze through your lashes with a playful smile. “So?”

I totally giggled at this one lmao.

Also:

“Sweetheart, if I can heft a grown man on my shoulders up a flight of stairs, I can get you up on a little counter.”

You snorted in response. Perks of dating a firefighter.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Firefighter!Dean is so freaking hot 🥵😍 (I’m serious, it makes me want to go get myself stuck in a GD elevator lol).

I love that Dean really wants to assure the reader that this ✨sexy time shenanigans✨ is what he wants, but he wants to do it right. I feel like that was so important after the last chapter with all of the things Meg was saying…whether the reader realized it or not, I think she needed to hear it.

“That’s my job,” he teased.

“Then how about you get to it?” you countered with a smile. He rose a brow at you.

I love this girl, lol. I love her spunkiness and her lack of fear around confronting him on important issues or concerns (last chapter) or telling him to get to it in the spicy 🌶️ moments lol.

The smut was absolutely ✨chef’s kiss✨ amazing. The perfect level of detail and I love that Dean wanted to make sure she was taken care of before anything else.

Finally, loved the part about the cake burning and how he (as a firefighter) should be concerned but he’s just like, -meh- 🤣 that made me giggle.

ALL IN ALL, this was fantastic! After reading your preview for next week, I have NO FREAKING CLUE how I’m supposed to go a whole week without an update 😩 (don’t mind me, I’m being dramatic) but it gives me something to look forward to for next week!! Well, well done! Can’t wait to read more, friend! ♥️

Smoke Eater - Part 7

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥Series Masterlist

AN: So I don't know why it takes me exactly seven chapters to get to the smut, but so far that's three different series where that's happened. 😂 (Never Say Goodbye, Break Me Down, and now Smoke Eater. Go figure! 🤷🏽‍♀️)

Word Count: 6,200 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! For smutty smut and baking shenanigans, tinge of angst.

Part 7: “Cherry Pie & Lemon Drizzle”

You liked Dean’s apartment. It was on the second floor out of three, and a modest, clean, comfortable space.

Though overall it felt very “dude bro” in décor. You supposed that made sense, considering it was just Sam and Dean living here.

And while you still hadn’t met Sam (he was working late tonight), it gave you a chance to do something you’d been very much looking forward to doing with Dean… 

“Not for nothin’, this is probably one in three of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth,” said Dean.

True to his word, his mouth was full. You giggled as a flake of pasta spewed from his mouth.

“Oh really? Makes me curious about the other two,” you said mischievously. And you handed him a napkin to blot his face.

You sat across from him in the small dining room adjacent to the kitchen. The table itself was barely big enough to fit in the space, feeling more like a nook than a room, but it sat three people. That was usually enough for Sam and Dean, and occasionally Eileen when she came over.

Dean chuckled, his brows dancing. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find out.”

Your face warmed at that, despite your amusement. You had made dinner, for which Dean had been more than enthusiastic.

“You mean I get an actual chef making me food? Sign me the hell up,” he’d teased.

Never mind that you weren’t an actual chef. You had focused on patisserie in culinary school. He didn’t seem to mind though, as he’d devoured two servings of salmon and fettucine alfredo, even down to the steamed broccoli. You had to admit, it warmed you inside to see him enjoy your food.

You’d promised to cook for him last week, and he hadn’t let it go until both your schedules opened up enough for you to come over.

He now hummed in satisfaction as he finished off the last bite on his plate and wiped his mouth with the napkin.

“Thanks for this, sweetheart. I needa have you around here more often,” he said, tossing you a grin.

You smiled back. “It’s my pleasure.”

It wasn’t the first time Dean had invited you over to his apartment, but for the life of you, you didn’t know why it had taken you so long to accept.

…Well, okay, you did know why. You were reluctant to leave your grandfather alone, potentially all night. But George had been adamant about you going out for as long as you wanted, on the promise that he’d check in every few hours until he went to bed.

“Okay, ready for dessert?” you asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said. He still thought about those cookies you brought to the firehouse, almost a month ago already.

Damn, has it really been that long? he thought as he helped you collect the dishes from dinner. He followed you into the kitchen, where you already knew the lay of his land.

Sam couldn’t cook for shit, so it usually fell on Dean to be the figure of culinary expertise. But he had no problem making way for you, especially if you were going to look over your shoulder and wink at him like that.

“Good, because you’re going to help me,” you informed him.

Dean’s smile grew. “All right…what did you have in mind?”

While he started on the dishes in the sink, you hauled out even more ingredients from a big grocery bag you’d brought and stored in the refrigerator. He watched you out of the corner of his eye and spotted lemons, among other things.

“Lemon drizzle cake,” you replied. “One of my grandma’s recipes. I just need a mixing bowl and a cake tin.”

“Good, because we’re not very Betty Crocker in this place. Let’s just say my kitchen tools are limited,” he said, raising a brow at you. “You know, if you wanted to bake, I’m sure you’ve got all the proper bells and whistles at your house. We could’ve done this over there.”

You paused to consider the question he wasn’t quite asking, because he had a point. You could’ve invited him over your house instead. You joined him near the sink and leaned against the counter, tapping your nails on the tile surface.

“Well, as you know, I live with my grandpa,” you said.

“Good ol’ George,” Dean grinned. “That guy’s hilarious. Like the fourth Stooge.”

He particularly liked the story you’d told him about the time George had bought you your first makeup palette when you turned fifteen, but hadn’t told you it was face paint…the kind that clowns used.

“And I’d love for you two to get to know each other better. Don’t get me wrong. But barring the fact that we probably wouldn’t have much…privacy,” you pointed out with a subtle smile, trying to ignore Dean’s resulting smirk. Never mind that you two hadn’t needed “privacy” just yet.

“I guess I’m just not used to inviting people over. I’ve been trying to limit the exposure to germs in the house,” you admitted. At Dean’s quizzical look, you had to explain.

“My grandfather had cancer last year,” you said. “He had surgery to remove the mass, and did well, considering his age. He’s in remission now…but I’m still looking after him.”

You’d gone with him to see his primary doctor a couple of weeks ago for that persistent cough. While the doctor seemed to think it was George’s asthma acting up, you’d still scheduled an appointment with his oncologist.

And while your thoughts led you down an all-too familiar path, Dean processed this with a nod of his head. He shut off the sink. After drying his hands, he looked over at you and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“I’m glad he’s doing better now,” he said. His brows furrowed. “And your grandma passed just a few years before that?”

You nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s been a long few years.”

So, Dean took an inventory in his mind as he rested a comforting hand on your back. You took care of your family. You could cook. You were beautiful. And still, you kicked ass at your job and seemed to have the rest of your shit together.

He had to admit. The more he learned about you, the more he liked you.

“Anyway,” you shook your head with a smile. “Sorry. Ready to bake?”

Dean’s lips quirked as he followed you to the other side of the kitchen. He stepped behind you and letting his hands fall to your waist. His lips skimmed the side of your head, pressing a kiss there.

“Okay, Rachael Ray,” he teased. “Teach me your ways.”

You were trying to measure out some sugar in the bowl first, but you giggled with a warm blush as he kissed his way down your neck.

“Are you actually going to help, or are you just going to distract me?” you volleyed back.

Dean hummed against the crook of your neck. “Can’t I do both?”

You picked up and egg and raised it level with his face.

“Hmm, should I try cracking this against your forehead?” you pondered.

His teeth playfully nipped your skin in retaliation, making you flinch with a yelp. The egg actually cracked in your hand.

“Shit,” you laughed, and you quickly dropped as much of it in the bowl as possible. But getting fractals of the shell in the bowl disturbed your anal sense of meticulousness. When it came to cracking eggs, you typically had nothing if not precision.

You shot Dean an accusatory look over your shoulder. He just grinned back at you.

“Am I helping yet?” he joked.

You chuckled dryly in response. “Just you wait.”

A few more minutes and “helpful” distractions from Dean later, you successfully had a cake batter in the bowl. You were hand mixing up a storm and sorely missing your Kitchen Aid mixer. Dean was right though; his cupboards had little more than one cake pan, one mixing bowl, and one wooden spoon.

At home, you had a modest collection of cookware and bakeware that rivaled Williams & Sonoma. Though that had been a gift from your grandparents, when you graduated from culinary school. (Your grandma had picked them out before she passed.)

“What’s your favorite dessert?” you asked Dean. You were pretending not to catch him sampling the batter with a finger while you buttered the cake tin.

“Ever?” he asked, rubbing a licked finger on his jeans.

“Yeah. Number one top favorite.”

“Hmm,” he contemplated with a cross of his arms. “Pie, I guess.”

You smirked. That explained his little man-child display a few weeks ago, when you’d tried to share his blueberry pie on your second date.

“What flavor?” you asked.

“I dunno. I’m not real picky,” he said.

“Come on. Everyone has a favorite flavor,” you reasoned. “I’m more of a cake girl myself, but even I love a blueberry pie.”

Dean eyed your teasing grin with a growing smirk of his own. He remembered that day in your office just as well as you.

“Okay, fine. Apple, I guess,” he replied. You gave him a mocking look.

“Really, the most basic of them all?” You tsked at him, shaking your head. “What happened to Mr. Rocky Road?”

Dean chuckled, but he leaned against the counter next to you. Instead of giving it to you right back, as usual, he looked more thoughtful. A gentler look grew on his face. It caught your attention.

“You know, one of my earliest memories…” He looked up at you then, more self-deprecating.

You realized he was about to admit to something, maybe embarrassing, or maybe just vulnerable. Your smile softened too as you paused in what you were doing.

“You can’t leave me hanging on that one,” you said. And you drew closer with a hand soothing up his arm.

He glanced over at you. “I remember being…four, probably. My mom made pies during Christmastime. Cherry, pecan, whatever. But my favorite was her apple pie. I still remember it, because I haven’t had a pie since that tasted like that one.”

Your heart clenched, but your insides also warmed. Not just at the story of his mother, but the way Dean told it, his voice softer, steady, and deep. It told you a lot about him without him having to explain; just like you, he knew what loss was.

You curled your hands around his bicep and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Then your gaze drew back up to his.

“Have you talked to your dad since the last time?” you asked, a bit cautiously. “About his investigation of the fire?”

Dean sighed deep through his nose. “No.”

But despite his father’s warning, he had spoken to Sam.

“It’s different this time, Sam. The brand marks are the same,” Dean argued with his brother, this time in the living room. He sat on the couch while Sam stood, trying to process everything Dean had just told him about Mary’s potential murder.

“You saw the pictures yourself?” Sam asked.

Dean frowned. “No, but Dad—”

“Dean,” Sam cut him off as he gripped at his temples in frustration. “This is what he does. He sees evidence where he wants to see evidence. I’ve been down this road with him too, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean gritted out. John had roped Sam into helping him a few times, using his ADA status to look into different leads that ultimately hadn’t panned out.

“They always look like connections to him, but they never end up being anything more than his obsession,” Sam said.

He was firm, and Dean understood why, but his gut was telling him that it was different this time…

Still, he had no choice but to let it go. For now.

Dean shook his head of that memory. Instead, he tried to focus on being here with you. He liked this little yellow sundress you had on, despite the fall chill starting to set in outside. As usual, your hair was clipped up away from your neck while you got ready to put the now full cake tin into the oven.

He came over behind you and freed your hair from the clip, letting it all tumble down. You yelped and glanced over at him.

“Dean,” you chided, even though you were smiling. “My hair’s going to get in the batter.”

“I’ll keep it away, don’t worry,” he said lightly. He curled some of your hair around his hand so he could once again press a tantalizing kiss to the back of your neck. He felt you shiver.

You subtly leaned back against him, even as you whined in protest.

“Can you just let me get this in the oven?” you asked on a laugh. He smirked against your skin. You did manage to get the cake in the oven, but his lips and teasing hands were unrelenting as you tried to start cleaning up.

So you felt you had to take matters into your own hands. A mischievous idea had you smiling. You reached out for some flour that had spilled on the counter.

You turned, and before he realized what you were up to, you marked his forehead with an arch of white against his skin.

“Simba,” you said in a deeper voice, trying to mimic Mufasa from The Lion King.

Dean’s brows rose along with his widening eyes. He’d never seen you do something that childish, but it sparked his competitiveness as he blinked a bit of flour out of his eyes.

“You’re real proud of yourself, aren’t you?” he asked.

Your little smirk was answer enough. You flicked a bit more flour onto his shirt.

Dean chuckled darkly. “Okay, you asked for it.”

Both a gasp and a giggle caught in your throat.

“Oh, no.”

He reached past you for some flour off the counter and flicked it down at you, into your hair, across your face. He grabbed your flailing wrist and marked your cheeks. All the while, his grin grew ever deeper at your shrieking protests.

But you grew devious. You stuck two fingers into the bowl and scraped out a gob of raw, yellow batter. You were fully prepared to fling it into his face, but Dean grabbed your wrist.

“Ey, ey!” he raised a warning finger with his free hand. “You’re about to take this to a new level.”

You met his gaze through your lashes with a playful smile. “So?”

Dean raised a brow at you. He could admit, you had audacity. All he could do was call your bluff.

He took one of your battered fingers into his mouth. Your eyes widened at the feel of his soft tongue swirling around your finger, sucking it clean. All the while, his eyes never broke from yours.

Lord have mercy, you thought. Really, it was the only coherent one in your head.

He soon released you with a soft pop, before he did the same to the second finger.

Your breath hitched, and your blush was a living thing spreading down your neck, even as warmth pooled between your legs. By the time your second finger slid out of his mouth, you had to reach back to grip the counter just to steady yourself.

His arm slipped around your waist, and you reached for his face with both hands, bringing him down for the hottest kiss you’d ever had in your life. Teeth clicking, lips and tongues warring and devouring. Your fingers slipped roughly through his hair, while he gripped your hips and ass with a passion just shy of bruising.

You almost didn’t register the way his hands slipped under your thighs, to then heft you up onto the counter. You gasped into his mouth and clung tightly to his shoulders. He chuckled and positioned himself to stand between your legs.

“What, need a little warning?” he teased. Though he was breathless as your soft lips veered away from his, starting a burning path across his jaw and down his neck. You left the remnants of your lipstick all along the way, but it was the occasional graze of your teeth that had him moaning for you.

“Maybe,” you whispered coarsely against his skin, uttering a small laugh, “Sometimes I forget how damn strong you are.”

He scoffed. “Sweetheart, if I can heft a grown man on my shoulders up a flight of stairs, I can get you up on a little counter.”

You snorted in response. Perks of dating a firefighter.

And you shoved off his plaid shirt from his shoulders. Dean helped you by letting it drop the rest of the way to the floor, followed by his black undershirt.

You couldn’t believe this was the first time you were seeing him with his shirt off. It was a damn shame, really. But you caught the bit of smugness curving his lips at the way you were ogling, first with your eyes, then with your exploring hands over his toned arms and chest, and the solid plane of his abs, all the way down to his belt. You started undoing the clasp.

Dean couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he stopped you with his hands gently curling around your wrists. You looked up at him in confusion. To him, you looked unbelievably sexy then. Thoroughly kissed, hair tousled, a strap of your dress fallen to one shoulder while your lacey black bra peeked through.

Just the memory of having your curves in his hands had his dick hardening in his jeans, but he blew out a breath.

“Dean?” you asked. “What’s wrong?”

His hands tightened on yours as he peered down at you. “Are you sure?”

You blinked incredulously. “Did I look not sure?”

He paused, licking his lips. He raised a hand to hold your cheek.

“I just…you know I’m trying to do this right with you,” he said. “I just want to know…”

He couldn’t seem to finish what he was trying to say, but you thought you understood. You smiled up at him warmly. You leaned up for a kiss, softer this time.

“Dean, I trust you,” you said. And you could finally say it with no reservations. “I think this feels real. More real than anything I’ve had in a long time… What about you?”

When Dean smiled, it was warm, melting away the doubt in his eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” he said.

He seemed sincere. Maybe this man spared few words when it came to how he felt, but you’d seen a glimpse of the deeper parts. He felt things deeply, down to his bones.

His fingers sunk into your hair, and he guided you into a kiss. It was slower, but no less heady and wanting than the first. Your arms wrapped around his middle, letting you flatten your palms against the muscles in his back. But just as you were getting comfortable, Dean broke the kiss. He flashed you a smirk.

Before you could ask what the hell he was about to do, he’d hefted you back into his arms and over his shoulder. You squawked in protest as your whole world tipped over. Your face thudded on his back with a soft oof, your hair loose and falling like a curtain. Your hands accidentally fell against his ass.

“Ooh, someone’s handsy,” Dean teased.

“Dean!” you exclaimed, despite your peals of laughter. “Is this really necessary? I think I can find your room just fine.”

“Call it an officer’s escort,” he supplied.

“That’s for policemen!” you argued.

You couldn’t see it, but you could imagine the way he was grinning from ear to ear as he carried you through the apartment. You never noticed just how long his bowed legs were as he strode onward. But it felt like his shoulder was digging into your appendix.

Grunting in frustration, you slapped his ass again for good measure.

Dean laughed. “Hey, you’re only fueling my fire, baby.”

He slapped your ass right back, since he had an even better vantage point. He even slipped a hand underneath your little sundress and squeezed the inside of your thigh teasingly.

Your answering yelp, and the futile kick of your feet, had him laughing harder. His cheeks were aching.

Finally he reached his room, where he shut the door with his foot. He was gentle as he eased you off his shoulder and laid you down on his bed. You let out a breathless huff once your head hit the pillows. Your face was all red from being suspended upside-down, your hair a mess, and your dress pooling over your folded legs.

You gave Dean a playful glare. “Get over here.”

His smirk deepened, but he obliged you. He chucked his shoes off first, just like you let your sandals slip off the side of the bed.

He soon made his way up the bed, until he was hovering over you with his arms braced on either side of your head. He liked the way you were all laid out for him over his sheets, your wild hair spread over his pillows. He’d pictured something like this before, but nothing came close to having you for real.

He just didn’t know you’d been dreaming of the same thing.

You hadn’t allowed yourself to truly fall for someone, not in a long time. You’d been too focused on pivoting after school, on building your career, on taking care of your family. You’d dated here and there, but nothing had stuck for more than a few months. Even then, you’d never felt half of what you felt right now.

It scared you a little, but it also made you feel alive. Being with Dean made you feel that way.

So you took his face between your hands. His stubble rasped against your palms and the pads of your fingers. You didn’t mind that though. He’d left it a bit long for a shave last week. When you’d mentioned off-hand that you liked the thicker scruff (thinking it made him all the more handsome), he’d kept it for you. 

Now, he seemed like he was waiting on your cue.

You guided him down to you. He kissed you hot and slow, while a hand moved to your waist and clenched in the material of your dress. He slipped a heavy thigh between both of yours. The pressure was welcome, but you wanted friction.

You bunched up the skirt of your dress and aimed to slip it off, but Dean stopped your hands.

“That’s my job,” he teased.

“Then how about you get to it?” you countered with a smile. He rose a brow at you.

“A bit bossy, but I can dig that,” he smirked.

His kisses dropped against your neck, down your exposed neckline, and he peeled down the straps of your dress one by one. Your breathing became more labored as he touched you, squeezing a breast over the bra as he exposed more inches of your body.

Your fingers carded through his hair on a sigh as he made his way further down. Though he finally got impatient enough to work your dress off all the way, followed by his jeans and your bra and matching lacey panties. He lavished attention what felt like all over your body.

Really, he was just strategic. He stopped in places where you lost breath, moaning his name. Like the spot just under your ear, where he sucked hard enough to make you see stars. Or over your breasts, taking a pebbled nipple in his mouth, swirling with his tongue like he had the cake batter off your fingers.

His hands mapped out the soft planes and curves of your body for the first time, sometimes smooth and grazing, sometimes adding pressure that made warmth continue to pool between your legs.  

He went further still, wrapping an arm around your thigh and pressing nipping kisses along the inside. All the while his mouth drew closer to the place you wanted him the most. Even though you still raised up on your elbow and gave him a questioning look.

“Really? You want to…” Your voice came out in a whisper.

Dean looked up at you with puzzled brows. “Why not?”

You shook your head, your eyes widening marginally.

“No reason, I guess. I, um…I’ve never had someone do this for me first.” And certainly not on the first time having sex.

Dean frowned.

“Really?” he asked. “A guy’s never gone down on you first?”

You blushed. “Well, maybe with his fingers, but not…”

He shook his head and let out a breath. You felt it between your thighs, and your core clenched in anticipation.

“Okay, baby. I gotcha,” he said. He guided you back down with a gentle hand. “Just lie back and relax.”

You smiled, despite your lingering blush, and you stroked the hand that rested above your stomach. That hand soon slid down as he once again kissed and licked down your thighs. They quivered a bit as his fingers slipped between your folds.

“So fucking wet for me already,” he said in approval. You peered down at him, unable to help a smile.

“You want a medal?” you quipped.

Dean’s brows rose.

“Oh, I’m about to earn it.” His eyes found yours. “You know what my real favorite pie flavor is?”

Your brows knitted together. “What?”

A familiar smirk crossed his lips. “Cherry.”

Before your choked surprise could be broken with a laugh, he began. 

And he wasn’t lying, about any of it. The pads of his fingers began toying with your clit, and that alone had your breath hitching and your hips squirming.

He held you down with one hand on your lower belly while his tongue joined his fingers, seeking your heat and finding the hot channel where you craved to be filled. You gasped.

“Oh, God,” you uttered. Once his warm tongue began rolling inside you, you almost couldn’t breathe.

He worked you over with fingers, lips and tongue until you were arching off the bed, fists clenched in his hair and in the sheets, releasing broken gasps of his name. He didn’t relent until your thighs stopped shaking around his head. Your knees were damn near pinning him there.

He eventually withdrew, wiping his mouth and nose with the back of his hand. He moved smoothly back up your body and heeded the pull of your hands on his arms, and then his face. You tugged him down for a sloppy kiss. 

“How’s that for a first?” he asked breathlessly. His tone was teasing, but he was half-serious you thought, by the look in his eyes.

You were honest, without a hint of a joke. “Fucking incredible. Just like you.”

Dean wouldn’t admit it then, but what you said warmed him. He looked down on you with a smile.

Your hands caressed his face, down his neck and firm chest, and further still to caress his straining length over his boxer briefs. Dean let out a halting moan at your gentle touch. 

“What if I want to return the favor?” you asked with a smile. He made a sound deep in his throat when you cupped him more firmly, letting your thumb brush over the head.

Well hello, you thought. He was thick, and a bit longer than your first thought. Your already sensitive core tightened at the thought. 

Meanwhile, Dean squeezed your arm. His hot gaze bore into yours.

“Very, very tempting.” His thumb brushed your lower lip. “I’ve no doubt you’ve got some talents yourself.”

You smiled under the pad of his thumb. Part of you was contemplating some retribution, sucking it into your mouth the way he’d done to your fingers in the kitchen.

“But I’m thinkin’ I want to skip to the part where I have you coming apart all over again,” said Dean. His head bowed near your ear, though his lips skimmed the side of your face. “This time, from the inside.”

His voice was deep and threaded with grit. You bit your lip on a giddy laugh. You managed to nod, sweeping your shaky fingers through his hair.

“Okay, next time then,” you promised and gave him a sensuous kiss. “But first, just want to make sure you’re ready for me…”

You leaned down to slide his underwear for him, down to his knees. He helped you the rest of the way, kicking them off his legs. When he came back, you were sitting up.

You soothed warm hands along his thighs and took his cock into your hands. Dean dropped his forehead onto your shoulder with a grunt, again squeezing your arms as you touched him properly for the first time.

Dean had a habit of impressing you, and this was no different. You liked the feel of him in your hands, warm and thick and heavy.

After licking your hand to coat it with some wetness, you experimented for a moment in how you stroked him, trying to get a feel for what he liked just as he had for you. He gasped and jolted on one particular twist, and he finally stopped you with a hand on your wrist.

“Okay, baby. Keep that up and we’re not gonna get much farther for a while,” he said coarsely.

It was satisfying to know you’d made him feel even a fraction of how he’d made you feel.

You pressed a purposeful kiss into his neck. “I told you, next time I’ll take care of you for real.”

He chuckled, cupping the side of your face.

“Oh, you’re about to. Believe me,” he said.

He kissed you long and deep, until you were once again breathless. The two of you were kneeling in the middle of the bed like you had all the time in the world. And yet, you wanted him more than ever.

“I’m on birth control,” you told him between more fervent kisses, hands drifting, feeling skin to warm, dewy skin, breaths mingling.

“And I’m clean,” he said. You nodded, hesitating…

“It’s our first time,” you said. “Condom, just to be safe.”

He hesitated only a beat before he nodded back, agreeing to your request. “Yes, ma’am.”

He broke from you briefly. He turned and dug into his nightstand while your nails drew light patterns down his back. It was distracting in the best of ways. A trill of excitement had his hands moving quickly, ripping the foil packet open and fitting himself with the condom.

When he was ready for you, he turned and hooked an arm around your waist. You twined your arms around his neck, and once again, you let him lay you down. His kiss came first, and then his fingers between your legs, past your folds to stroke you back to life.

You moaned into his mouth and wrapped your legs around his hips. Though he surprised you again by hooking your legs over his shoulders. Your brows raised at him, and he shot you a wink.

“Trust me, you’ll like it this way,” he said.

You did trust him. Your hands caressed down his neck, down his chest, and you subtly urged him with your heels on his back, encouraging him where you both knew he needed to be.

And with one slow push, his cock was stretching your inner walls with slow, delicious friction. You both groaned at the feeling. His forehead pressed against yours. His hand trembled slightly, brushing your hair away from your face. And he began moving inside you in steady strokes.

Dean was putting his all into this tonight. He thought your promises to take care of him next time were as endearing as they were sexy as hell. Even now, you were touching him wherever you could reach, occasionally moaning his name in his ear, encouraging him with every thrust inside you.

Fuck, he was right, you thought. He was reaching places deep inside you, filling you to the very brim. And you were already on the edge of pleasure, brows furrowed, biting your lower lip so hard that your teeth nearly broke the skin…

Your fingers slipped down between you to further part your folds and rub your already sensitive clit. Dean caught the hint and moved your hand to do it himself, as in time with his thrusts as he could. Finally, you unraveled for the second time that night. Your gasp gave way to a moan.

Your tightening walls gripped him like a vice. His release hit him with the same force, choking a near shout out of him. His hand was a bit too tight in your hair, he realized, so he forced himself to ease up.

He petted over your hair instead as he came down with ragged breaths. After he released your shaky legs back to the bed, he leaned mostly on his elbow and thigh instead of sinking all his weight onto you.

You appreciated that. You soothed up and down his back while you panted for breath.

“Wow,” you managed to say.

Dean’s chuckle took him by surprise too.

“Yeah,” he agreed. He turned his head to press a sloppy kiss where your neck met your shoulder.

Just then, a distant-sounding jingle reached your ears. It was familiar…and you remembered it was the alarm on your phone, which was probably in the kitchen.

“Oh shit,” you gasped. “The cake’s still in the oven.”

He blinked. “Well, I don’t smell burning, so we’re good.”

“Dean! You’re a firefighter, remember?” you laughed, but you still tapped his shoulder so he’d roll over. Reluctantly he did, but he still took you with him, even after he’d slid out of you.

You yelped and clung to his shoulders to balance yourself. “I gotta get the cake!”

“Five more minutes,” he grumbled into your neck. He also liked the way your breasts were pressed against his chest.

“It’s going to be so…damn…burnt!” You punctuated each of those syllables with a playful smack on his arm, until he finally released you with a lazy smirk.

You shook your head and huffed in amusement. Sliding out of bed, you searched around your dress. The first thing you found was his discarded undershirt. You slipped it on real quick and cautiously padded out of Dean’s room. You didn’t know if Sam was back from work, but this was not how you wanted to meet him.

The halls were quiet, so you didn’t think he was home yet. You managed to get to the kitchen unscathed, where you turned off your timer and grabbed some oven mitts. You opened the oven and pulled out the cake, setting it down on the counter. Your eyes narrowed at the almost perfect dome on top.

“What’s the verdict, Chef Ramsay?”

Dean leaned in the doorway, dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else. The view was delectable, but you sighed and gestured at the cake with a shake of your head.

“It’s burnt.”

“What? No, it’s not,” he refuted. He joined your side and stared down at the top of the cake, which was half browned. “Looks all right to me.”

“Trust me, it’s going to be dry,” you said, “even with the lemon drizzle on it.”

It was the perfectionist in you that smarted with disappointment. You didn’t want to serve anyone something you weren’t proud of, especially Dean. But he just leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he said. “I’m still gonna eat the crap out of it.”

You glanced at him, unable to help a small smile. He grinned back.

“Anyway, I think it was worth it. Don’t you?” Dean said. He pulled you in towards him by your waist, and you went willingly, resting your hands against his bare chest. You let your nails drag against his skin a little as you contemplated.

You looked up at him with a grin of your own.

“Yeah. Definitely worth it.”

Dean later sat with you again at the table, this time with your chairs closer together as you each ate large slices of delicious cake (even if it was a bit dry). Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the copious number of dishes still left in the sink and the flour and batter sprinkled across the counter.

He knew Sam was going to have a conniption when he got home (in the morning at this rate). He was probably crashing at Eileen’s apartment tonight.

Good, Dean thought. That meant he’d have the place all to himself, with you.

“You know, I just realized something,” he said.

You knew that look in his eyes. He was about to say something smartass.

“What’s that?” you asked. He reached out and thumbed at your chin.

“I just got my dessert twice in one sitting,” he remarked. “That’s pretty damn good, if you ask me.”

You snorted in laughter. You also blushed, but you were unable to stop smiling either.

You set down your fork and eased back from the table. Your hand on Dean’s shoulder encouraged him to do the same, so you could sit across his lap. He welcomed you with a warm hand on your bare thigh. Already it was creeping under the shirt you borrowed.

You stroked his cheek with the back of your hand and gave him a mischievous smile.

“Think you could handle another serving?”

AN: 🫣 Was it everything you wanted it to be? lol I love me some baking innuendo. What did you like more: eating the cherry pie or making the lemon drizzle? 😏❤️‍🔥

In Part 8, Dean's past comes a knockin'...

Next Time:

While you were getting dressed, a phone buzzed on one of the nightstands beside the bed. It was Dean’s phone.

You went over to it curiously as you fixed the straps of your dress. The screen showed a missed text message from last night, around 10:00 p.m., and another one this morning. You read the latest one with a sinking feeling in your chest.

From Marissa: Surprised I didn’t hear back from you last night. The offer still stands. 😘

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[zepskies]

@waywardxwords Thank you so much, my friend!! 🥰🥰 I worked very hard on this one lol.

Haha I'm so glad you liked that first Dean line. I thought it would be on brand for him. 😂

I also loved the sweet interaction between them when they were in the kitchen baking. I thought it was perfect how you wrote in some history for both of them (with Dean’s memory of his mom’s apple pie, and then for the reader when talking about George’s cancer). It was such a great way for them to be able to continue to learn about each other, and then dive into some fun.

Thank you so much for shouting this out! 🥰 I wanted this chapter to be more than the smut (though that was obviously the focus). They're still getting new tidbits of development with each other here. ❤️

I love the subtlety of him loving her hair down. Also, totally laughed out loud when she marked his forehead with flour and said “Simba”, and I 10000% read it in Mufasa’s voice (I won’t lie, I’m a Disney kid at heart 🤣).

Hahaa yes! I love that you love the "taking her hair clip" motif continuing. It's a small thing, but I wanted to find these little ways to make their relationship unique.

And lmfao YES! I'm so glad that LK reference hit for you. It's my favorite Disney movie of all time and I couldn't resist. (I'm a big Disney girl too.) 🤣

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Firefighter!Dean is so freaking hot 🥵😍 (I’m serious, it makes me want to go get myself stuck in a GD elevator lol).

Omfg girl, don't tempt me. Firefighter!Dean is straight up fantasy. 🥵❤️‍🔥 I'm having so much fun with it that I'd gladly get stuck in another elevator for a chance sighting.

I love that Dean really wants to assure the reader that this ✨sexy time shenanigans✨ is what he wants, but he wants to do it right. I feel like that was so important after the last chapter with all of the things Meg was saying…whether the reader realized it or not, I think she needed to hear it.

Yeah, thank you for bringing this up! This key part of Dean's character development will be important to remember for the next chapter lol. But I felt it was right for him to take a beat with her here. And I love that you said: "whether the reader realized it or not, I think she needed to hear it." 💯

I love this girl, lol. I love her spunkiness and her lack of fear around confronting him on important issues or concerns (last chapter) or telling him to get to it in the spicy 🌶️ moments lol.

I love that you love her!! 😍 I'm having really fun crafting her personality, pressing Dean when he needs to be pressed. But she's got flaws too, will be explored in future chapters.

The smut was absolutely ✨chef’s kiss✨ amazing. The perfect level of detail and I love that Dean wanted to make sure she was taken care of before anything else.

Thank you, my lovely!! 😭 I actually struggle with smut scenes the most. I probably revised that scene 20x times. 🤣 So I'm very glad you enjoyed it lol. My headcanon is Dean's a "giver," and he wants to make her feel as special as he thinks she is, even if he might struggle to say so in words. 😉

Finally, loved the part about the cake burning and how he (as a firefighter) should be concerned but he’s just like, -meh- 🤣 that made me giggle.

lmaooo ironic, right? This man, I swear. That part was so fun for me to write though. 🤣

ALL IN ALL, this was fantastic! After reading your preview for next week, I have NO FREAKING CLUE how I’m supposed to go a whole week without an update 😩 (don’t mind me, I’m being dramatic) but it gives me something to look forward to for next week!! Well, well done! Can’t wait to read more, friend! ♥️

Hahaaa believe me, it's getting harder and harder for me to wait until Fridays to post the next chapter. 🤣 And it's going to be a fun one! A little drama, a little fluff, the reader finally meets Sam, and she makes another visit to the firehouse... 😘💕

Smoke Eater - Part 7

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥Series Masterlist

AN: So I don't know why it takes me exactly seven chapters to get to the smut, but so far that's three different series where that's happened. 😂 (Never Say Goodbye, Break Me Down, and now Smoke Eater. Go figure! 🤷🏽‍♀️)

Word Count: 6,200 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! For smutty smut and baking shenanigans, tinge of angst.

Part 7: “Cherry Pie & Lemon Drizzle”

You liked Dean’s apartment. It was on the second floor out of three, and a modest, clean, comfortable space.

Though overall it felt very “dude bro” in décor. You supposed that made sense, considering it was just Sam and Dean living here.

And while you still hadn’t met Sam (he was working late tonight), it gave you a chance to do something you’d been very much looking forward to doing with Dean… 

“Not for nothin’, this is probably one in three of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth,” said Dean.

True to his word, his mouth was full. You giggled as a flake of pasta spewed from his mouth.

“Oh really? Makes me curious about the other two,” you said mischievously. And you handed him a napkin to blot his face.

You sat across from him in the small dining room adjacent to the kitchen. The table itself was barely big enough to fit in the space, feeling more like a nook than a room, but it sat three people. That was usually enough for Sam and Dean, and occasionally Eileen when she came over.

Dean chuckled, his brows dancing. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find out.”

Your face warmed at that, despite your amusement. You had made dinner, for which Dean had been more than enthusiastic.

“You mean I get an actual chef making me food? Sign me the hell up,” he’d teased.

Never mind that you weren’t an actual chef. You had focused on patisserie in culinary school. He didn’t seem to mind though, as he’d devoured two servings of salmon and fettucine alfredo, even down to the steamed broccoli. You had to admit, it warmed you inside to see him enjoy your food.

You’d promised to cook for him last week, and he hadn’t let it go until both your schedules opened up enough for you to come over.

He now hummed in satisfaction as he finished off the last bite on his plate and wiped his mouth with the napkin.

“Thanks for this, sweetheart. I needa have you around here more often,” he said, tossing you a grin.

You smiled back. “It’s my pleasure.”

It wasn’t the first time Dean had invited you over to his apartment, but for the life of you, you didn’t know why it had taken you so long to accept.

…Well, okay, you did know why. You were reluctant to leave your grandfather alone, potentially all night. But George had been adamant about you going out for as long as you wanted, on the promise that he’d check in every few hours until he went to bed.

“Okay, ready for dessert?” you asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said. He still thought about those cookies you brought to the firehouse, almost a month ago already.

Damn, has it really been that long? he thought as he helped you collect the dishes from dinner. He followed you into the kitchen, where you already knew the lay of his land.

Sam couldn’t cook for shit, so it usually fell on Dean to be the figure of culinary expertise. But he had no problem making way for you, especially if you were going to look over your shoulder and wink at him like that.

“Good, because you’re going to help me,” you informed him.

Dean’s smile grew. “All right…what did you have in mind?”

While he started on the dishes in the sink, you hauled out even more ingredients from a big grocery bag you’d brought and stored in the refrigerator. He watched you out of the corner of his eye and spotted lemons, among other things.

“Lemon drizzle cake,” you replied. “One of my grandma’s recipes. I just need a mixing bowl and a cake tin.”

“Good, because we’re not very Betty Crocker in this place. Let’s just say my kitchen tools are limited,” he said, raising a brow at you. “You know, if you wanted to bake, I’m sure you’ve got all the proper bells and whistles at your house. We could’ve done this over there.”

You paused to consider the question he wasn’t quite asking, because he had a point. You could’ve invited him over your house instead. You joined him near the sink and leaned against the counter, tapping your nails on the tile surface.

“Well, as you know, I live with my grandpa,” you said.

“Good ol’ George,” Dean grinned. “That guy’s hilarious. Like the fourth Stooge.”

He particularly liked the story you’d told him about the time George had bought you your first makeup palette when you turned fifteen, but hadn’t told you it was face paint…the kind that clowns used.

“And I’d love for you two to get to know each other better. Don’t get me wrong. But barring the fact that we probably wouldn’t have much…privacy,” you pointed out with a subtle smile, trying to ignore Dean’s resulting smirk. Never mind that you two hadn’t needed “privacy” just yet.

“I guess I’m just not used to inviting people over. I’ve been trying to limit the exposure to germs in the house,” you admitted. At Dean’s quizzical look, you had to explain.

“My grandfather had cancer last year,” you said. “He had surgery to remove the mass, and did well, considering his age. He’s in remission now…but I’m still looking after him.”

You’d gone with him to see his primary doctor a couple of weeks ago for that persistent cough. While the doctor seemed to think it was George’s asthma acting up, you’d still scheduled an appointment with his oncologist.

And while your thoughts led you down an all-too familiar path, Dean processed this with a nod of his head. He shut off the sink. After drying his hands, he looked over at you and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“I’m glad he’s doing better now,” he said. His brows furrowed. “And your grandma passed just a few years before that?”

You nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s been a long few years.”

So, Dean took an inventory in his mind as he rested a comforting hand on your back. You took care of your family. You could cook. You were beautiful. And still, you kicked ass at your job and seemed to have the rest of your shit together.

He had to admit. The more he learned about you, the more he liked you.

“Anyway,” you shook your head with a smile. “Sorry. Ready to bake?”

Dean’s lips quirked as he followed you to the other side of the kitchen. He stepped behind you and letting his hands fall to your waist. His lips skimmed the side of your head, pressing a kiss there.

“Okay, Rachael Ray,” he teased. “Teach me your ways.”

You were trying to measure out some sugar in the bowl first, but you giggled with a warm blush as he kissed his way down your neck.

“Are you actually going to help, or are you just going to distract me?” you volleyed back.

Dean hummed against the crook of your neck. “Can’t I do both?”

You picked up and egg and raised it level with his face.

“Hmm, should I try cracking this against your forehead?” you pondered.

His teeth playfully nipped your skin in retaliation, making you flinch with a yelp. The egg actually cracked in your hand.

“Shit,” you laughed, and you quickly dropped as much of it in the bowl as possible. But getting fractals of the shell in the bowl disturbed your anal sense of meticulousness. When it came to cracking eggs, you typically had nothing if not precision.

You shot Dean an accusatory look over your shoulder. He just grinned back at you.

“Am I helping yet?” he joked.

You chuckled dryly in response. “Just you wait.”

A few more minutes and “helpful” distractions from Dean later, you successfully had a cake batter in the bowl. You were hand mixing up a storm and sorely missing your Kitchen Aid mixer. Dean was right though; his cupboards had little more than one cake pan, one mixing bowl, and one wooden spoon.

At home, you had a modest collection of cookware and bakeware that rivaled Williams & Sonoma. Though that had been a gift from your grandparents, when you graduated from culinary school. (Your grandma had picked them out before she passed.)

“What’s your favorite dessert?” you asked Dean. You were pretending not to catch him sampling the batter with a finger while you buttered the cake tin.

“Ever?” he asked, rubbing a licked finger on his jeans.

“Yeah. Number one top favorite.”

“Hmm,” he contemplated with a cross of his arms. “Pie, I guess.”

You smirked. That explained his little man-child display a few weeks ago, when you’d tried to share his blueberry pie on your second date.

“What flavor?” you asked.

“I dunno. I’m not real picky,” he said.

“Come on. Everyone has a favorite flavor,” you reasoned. “I’m more of a cake girl myself, but even I love a blueberry pie.”

Dean eyed your teasing grin with a growing smirk of his own. He remembered that day in your office just as well as you.

“Okay, fine. Apple, I guess,” he replied. You gave him a mocking look.

“Really, the most basic of them all?” You tsked at him, shaking your head. “What happened to Mr. Rocky Road?”

Dean chuckled, but he leaned against the counter next to you. Instead of giving it to you right back, as usual, he looked more thoughtful. A gentler look grew on his face. It caught your attention.

“You know, one of my earliest memories…” He looked up at you then, more self-deprecating.

You realized he was about to admit to something, maybe embarrassing, or maybe just vulnerable. Your smile softened too as you paused in what you were doing.

“You can’t leave me hanging on that one,” you said. And you drew closer with a hand soothing up his arm.

He glanced over at you. “I remember being…four, probably. My mom made pies during Christmastime. Cherry, pecan, whatever. But my favorite was her apple pie. I still remember it, because I haven’t had a pie since that tasted like that one.”

Your heart clenched, but your insides also warmed. Not just at the story of his mother, but the way Dean told it, his voice softer, steady, and deep. It told you a lot about him without him having to explain; just like you, he knew what loss was.

You curled your hands around his bicep and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Then your gaze drew back up to his.

“Have you talked to your dad since the last time?” you asked, a bit cautiously. “About his investigation of the fire?”

Dean sighed deep through his nose. “No.”

But despite his father’s warning, he had spoken to Sam.

“It’s different this time, Sam. The brand marks are the same,” Dean argued with his brother, this time in the living room. He sat on the couch while Sam stood, trying to process everything Dean had just told him about Mary’s potential murder.

“You saw the pictures yourself?” Sam asked.

Dean frowned. “No, but Dad—”

“Dean,” Sam cut him off as he gripped at his temples in frustration. “This is what he does. He sees evidence where he wants to see evidence. I’ve been down this road with him too, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean gritted out. John had roped Sam into helping him a few times, using his ADA status to look into different leads that ultimately hadn’t panned out.

“They always look like connections to him, but they never end up being anything more than his obsession,” Sam said.

He was firm, and Dean understood why, but his gut was telling him that it was different this time…

Still, he had no choice but to let it go. For now.

Dean shook his head of that memory. Instead, he tried to focus on being here with you. He liked this little yellow sundress you had on, despite the fall chill starting to set in outside. As usual, your hair was clipped up away from your neck while you got ready to put the now full cake tin into the oven.

He came over behind you and freed your hair from the clip, letting it all tumble down. You yelped and glanced over at him.

“Dean,” you chided, even though you were smiling. “My hair’s going to get in the batter.”

“I’ll keep it away, don’t worry,” he said lightly. He curled some of your hair around his hand so he could once again press a tantalizing kiss to the back of your neck. He felt you shiver.

You subtly leaned back against him, even as you whined in protest.

“Can you just let me get this in the oven?” you asked on a laugh. He smirked against your skin. You did manage to get the cake in the oven, but his lips and teasing hands were unrelenting as you tried to start cleaning up.

So you felt you had to take matters into your own hands. A mischievous idea had you smiling. You reached out for some flour that had spilled on the counter.

You turned, and before he realized what you were up to, you marked his forehead with an arch of white against his skin.

“Simba,” you said in a deeper voice, trying to mimic Mufasa from The Lion King.

Dean’s brows rose along with his widening eyes. He’d never seen you do something that childish, but it sparked his competitiveness as he blinked a bit of flour out of his eyes.

“You’re real proud of yourself, aren’t you?” he asked.

Your little smirk was answer enough. You flicked a bit more flour onto his shirt.

Dean chuckled darkly. “Okay, you asked for it.”

Both a gasp and a giggle caught in your throat.

“Oh, no.”

He reached past you for some flour off the counter and flicked it down at you, into your hair, across your face. He grabbed your flailing wrist and marked your cheeks. All the while, his grin grew ever deeper at your shrieking protests.

But you grew devious. You stuck two fingers into the bowl and scraped out a gob of raw, yellow batter. You were fully prepared to fling it into his face, but Dean grabbed your wrist.

“Ey, ey!” he raised a warning finger with his free hand. “You’re about to take this to a new level.”

You met his gaze through your lashes with a playful smile. “So?”

Dean raised a brow at you. He could admit, you had audacity. All he could do was call your bluff.

He took one of your battered fingers into his mouth. Your eyes widened at the feel of his soft tongue swirling around your finger, sucking it clean. All the while, his eyes never broke from yours.

Lord have mercy, you thought. Really, it was the only coherent one in your head.

He soon released you with a soft pop, before he did the same to the second finger.

Your breath hitched, and your blush was a living thing spreading down your neck, even as warmth pooled between your legs. By the time your second finger slid out of his mouth, you had to reach back to grip the counter just to steady yourself.

His arm slipped around your waist, and you reached for his face with both hands, bringing him down for the hottest kiss you’d ever had in your life. Teeth clicking, lips and tongues warring and devouring. Your fingers slipped roughly through his hair, while he gripped your hips and ass with a passion just shy of bruising.

You almost didn’t register the way his hands slipped under your thighs, to then heft you up onto the counter. You gasped into his mouth and clung tightly to his shoulders. He chuckled and positioned himself to stand between your legs.

“What, need a little warning?” he teased. Though he was breathless as your soft lips veered away from his, starting a burning path across his jaw and down his neck. You left the remnants of your lipstick all along the way, but it was the occasional graze of your teeth that had him moaning for you.

“Maybe,” you whispered coarsely against his skin, uttering a small laugh, “Sometimes I forget how damn strong you are.”

He scoffed. “Sweetheart, if I can heft a grown man on my shoulders up a flight of stairs, I can get you up on a little counter.”

You snorted in response. Perks of dating a firefighter.

And you shoved off his plaid shirt from his shoulders. Dean helped you by letting it drop the rest of the way to the floor, followed by his black undershirt.

You couldn’t believe this was the first time you were seeing him with his shirt off. It was a damn shame, really. But you caught the bit of smugness curving his lips at the way you were ogling, first with your eyes, then with your exploring hands over his toned arms and chest, and the solid plane of his abs, all the way down to his belt. You started undoing the clasp.

Dean couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he stopped you with his hands gently curling around your wrists. You looked up at him in confusion. To him, you looked unbelievably sexy then. Thoroughly kissed, hair tousled, a strap of your dress fallen to one shoulder while your lacey black bra peeked through.

Just the memory of having your curves in his hands had his dick hardening in his jeans, but he blew out a breath.

“Dean?” you asked. “What’s wrong?”

His hands tightened on yours as he peered down at you. “Are you sure?”

You blinked incredulously. “Did I look not sure?”

He paused, licking his lips. He raised a hand to hold your cheek.

“I just…you know I’m trying to do this right with you,” he said. “I just want to know…”

He couldn’t seem to finish what he was trying to say, but you thought you understood. You smiled up at him warmly. You leaned up for a kiss, softer this time.

“Dean, I trust you,” you said. And you could finally say it with no reservations. “I think this feels real. More real than anything I’ve had in a long time… What about you?”

When Dean smiled, it was warm, melting away the doubt in his eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” he said.

He seemed sincere. Maybe this man spared few words when it came to how he felt, but you’d seen a glimpse of the deeper parts. He felt things deeply, down to his bones.

His fingers sunk into your hair, and he guided you into a kiss. It was slower, but no less heady and wanting than the first. Your arms wrapped around his middle, letting you flatten your palms against the muscles in his back. But just as you were getting comfortable, Dean broke the kiss. He flashed you a smirk.

Before you could ask what the hell he was about to do, he’d hefted you back into his arms and over his shoulder. You squawked in protest as your whole world tipped over. Your face thudded on his back with a soft oof, your hair loose and falling like a curtain. Your hands accidentally fell against his ass.

“Ooh, someone’s handsy,” Dean teased.

“Dean!” you exclaimed, despite your peals of laughter. “Is this really necessary? I think I can find your room just fine.”

“Call it an officer’s escort,” he supplied.

“That’s for policemen!” you argued.

You couldn’t see it, but you could imagine the way he was grinning from ear to ear as he carried you through the apartment. You never noticed just how long his bowed legs were as he strode onward. But it felt like his shoulder was digging into your appendix.

Grunting in frustration, you slapped his ass again for good measure.

Dean laughed. “Hey, you’re only fueling my fire, baby.”

He slapped your ass right back, since he had an even better vantage point. He even slipped a hand underneath your little sundress and squeezed the inside of your thigh teasingly.

Your answering yelp, and the futile kick of your feet, had him laughing harder. His cheeks were aching.

Finally he reached his room, where he shut the door with his foot. He was gentle as he eased you off his shoulder and laid you down on his bed. You let out a breathless huff once your head hit the pillows. Your face was all red from being suspended upside-down, your hair a mess, and your dress pooling over your folded legs.

You gave Dean a playful glare. “Get over here.”

His smirk deepened, but he obliged you. He chucked his shoes off first, just like you let your sandals slip off the side of the bed.

He soon made his way up the bed, until he was hovering over you with his arms braced on either side of your head. He liked the way you were all laid out for him over his sheets, your wild hair spread over his pillows. He’d pictured something like this before, but nothing came close to having you for real.

He just didn’t know you’d been dreaming of the same thing.

You hadn’t allowed yourself to truly fall for someone, not in a long time. You’d been too focused on pivoting after school, on building your career, on taking care of your family. You’d dated here and there, but nothing had stuck for more than a few months. Even then, you’d never felt half of what you felt right now.

It scared you a little, but it also made you feel alive. Being with Dean made you feel that way.

So you took his face between your hands. His stubble rasped against your palms and the pads of your fingers. You didn’t mind that though. He’d left it a bit long for a shave last week. When you’d mentioned off-hand that you liked the thicker scruff (thinking it made him all the more handsome), he’d kept it for you. 

Now, he seemed like he was waiting on your cue.

You guided him down to you. He kissed you hot and slow, while a hand moved to your waist and clenched in the material of your dress. He slipped a heavy thigh between both of yours. The pressure was welcome, but you wanted friction.

You bunched up the skirt of your dress and aimed to slip it off, but Dean stopped your hands.

“That’s my job,” he teased.

“Then how about you get to it?” you countered with a smile. He rose a brow at you.

“A bit bossy, but I can dig that,” he smirked.

His kisses dropped against your neck, down your exposed neckline, and he peeled down the straps of your dress one by one. Your breathing became more labored as he touched you, squeezing a breast over the bra as he exposed more inches of your body.

Your fingers carded through his hair on a sigh as he made his way further down. Though he finally got impatient enough to work your dress off all the way, followed by his jeans and your bra and matching lacey panties. He lavished attention what felt like all over your body.

Really, he was just strategic. He stopped in places where you lost breath, moaning his name. Like the spot just under your ear, where he sucked hard enough to make you see stars. Or over your breasts, taking a pebbled nipple in his mouth, swirling with his tongue like he had the cake batter off your fingers.

His hands mapped out the soft planes and curves of your body for the first time, sometimes smooth and grazing, sometimes adding pressure that made warmth continue to pool between your legs.  

He went further still, wrapping an arm around your thigh and pressing nipping kisses along the inside. All the while his mouth drew closer to the place you wanted him the most. Even though you still raised up on your elbow and gave him a questioning look.

“Really? You want to…” Your voice came out in a whisper.

Dean looked up at you with puzzled brows. “Why not?”

You shook your head, your eyes widening marginally.

“No reason, I guess. I, um…I’ve never had someone do this for me first.” And certainly not on the first time having sex.

Dean frowned.

“Really?” he asked. “A guy’s never gone down on you first?”

You blushed. “Well, maybe with his fingers, but not…”

He shook his head and let out a breath. You felt it between your thighs, and your core clenched in anticipation.

“Okay, baby. I gotcha,” he said. He guided you back down with a gentle hand. “Just lie back and relax.”

You smiled, despite your lingering blush, and you stroked the hand that rested above your stomach. That hand soon slid down as he once again kissed and licked down your thighs. They quivered a bit as his fingers slipped between your folds.

“So fucking wet for me already,” he said in approval. You peered down at him, unable to help a smile.

“You want a medal?” you quipped.

Dean’s brows rose.

“Oh, I’m about to earn it.” His eyes found yours. “You know what my real favorite pie flavor is?”

Your brows knitted together. “What?”

A familiar smirk crossed his lips. “Cherry.”

Before your choked surprise could be broken with a laugh, he began. 

And he wasn’t lying, about any of it. The pads of his fingers began toying with your clit, and that alone had your breath hitching and your hips squirming.

He held you down with one hand on your lower belly while his tongue joined his fingers, seeking your heat and finding the hot channel where you craved to be filled. You gasped.

“Oh, God,” you uttered. Once his warm tongue began rolling inside you, you almost couldn’t breathe.

He worked you over with fingers, lips and tongue until you were arching off the bed, fists clenched in his hair and in the sheets, releasing broken gasps of his name. He didn’t relent until your thighs stopped shaking around his head. Your knees were damn near pinning him there.

He eventually withdrew, wiping his mouth and nose with the back of his hand. He moved smoothly back up your body and heeded the pull of your hands on his arms, and then his face. You tugged him down for a sloppy kiss. 

“How’s that for a first?” he asked breathlessly. His tone was teasing, but he was half-serious you thought, by the look in his eyes.

You were honest, without a hint of a joke. “Fucking incredible. Just like you.”

Dean wouldn’t admit it then, but what you said warmed him. He looked down on you with a smile.

Your hands caressed his face, down his neck and firm chest, and further still to caress his straining length over his boxer briefs. Dean let out a halting moan at your gentle touch. 

“What if I want to return the favor?” you asked with a smile. He made a sound deep in his throat when you cupped him more firmly, letting your thumb brush over the head.

Well hello, you thought. He was thick, and a bit longer than your first thought. Your already sensitive core tightened at the thought. 

Meanwhile, Dean squeezed your arm. His hot gaze bore into yours.

“Very, very tempting.” His thumb brushed your lower lip. “I’ve no doubt you’ve got some talents yourself.”

You smiled under the pad of his thumb. Part of you was contemplating some retribution, sucking it into your mouth the way he’d done to your fingers in the kitchen.

“But I’m thinkin’ I want to skip to the part where I have you coming apart all over again,” said Dean. His head bowed near your ear, though his lips skimmed the side of your face. “This time, from the inside.”

His voice was deep and threaded with grit. You bit your lip on a giddy laugh. You managed to nod, sweeping your shaky fingers through his hair.

“Okay, next time then,” you promised and gave him a sensuous kiss. “But first, just want to make sure you’re ready for me…”

You leaned down to slide his underwear for him, down to his knees. He helped you the rest of the way, kicking them off his legs. When he came back, you were sitting up.

You soothed warm hands along his thighs and took his cock into your hands. Dean dropped his forehead onto your shoulder with a grunt, again squeezing your arms as you touched him properly for the first time.

Dean had a habit of impressing you, and this was no different. You liked the feel of him in your hands, warm and thick and heavy.

After licking your hand to coat it with some wetness, you experimented for a moment in how you stroked him, trying to get a feel for what he liked just as he had for you. He gasped and jolted on one particular twist, and he finally stopped you with a hand on your wrist.

“Okay, baby. Keep that up and we’re not gonna get much farther for a while,” he said coarsely.

It was satisfying to know you’d made him feel even a fraction of how he’d made you feel.

You pressed a purposeful kiss into his neck. “I told you, next time I’ll take care of you for real.”

He chuckled, cupping the side of your face.

“Oh, you’re about to. Believe me,” he said.

He kissed you long and deep, until you were once again breathless. The two of you were kneeling in the middle of the bed like you had all the time in the world. And yet, you wanted him more than ever.

“I’m on birth control,” you told him between more fervent kisses, hands drifting, feeling skin to warm, dewy skin, breaths mingling.

“And I’m clean,” he said. You nodded, hesitating…

“It’s our first time,” you said. “Condom, just to be safe.”

He hesitated only a beat before he nodded back, agreeing to your request. “Yes, ma’am.”

He broke from you briefly. He turned and dug into his nightstand while your nails drew light patterns down his back. It was distracting in the best of ways. A trill of excitement had his hands moving quickly, ripping the foil packet open and fitting himself with the condom.

When he was ready for you, he turned and hooked an arm around your waist. You twined your arms around his neck, and once again, you let him lay you down. His kiss came first, and then his fingers between your legs, past your folds to stroke you back to life.

You moaned into his mouth and wrapped your legs around his hips. Though he surprised you again by hooking your legs over his shoulders. Your brows raised at him, and he shot you a wink.

“Trust me, you’ll like it this way,” he said.

You did trust him. Your hands caressed down his neck, down his chest, and you subtly urged him with your heels on his back, encouraging him where you both knew he needed to be.

And with one slow push, his cock was stretching your inner walls with slow, delicious friction. You both groaned at the feeling. His forehead pressed against yours. His hand trembled slightly, brushing your hair away from your face. And he began moving inside you in steady strokes.

Dean was putting his all into this tonight. He thought your promises to take care of him next time were as endearing as they were sexy as hell. Even now, you were touching him wherever you could reach, occasionally moaning his name in his ear, encouraging him with every thrust inside you.

Fuck, he was right, you thought. He was reaching places deep inside you, filling you to the very brim. And you were already on the edge of pleasure, brows furrowed, biting your lower lip so hard that your teeth nearly broke the skin…

Your fingers slipped down between you to further part your folds and rub your already sensitive clit. Dean caught the hint and moved your hand to do it himself, as in time with his thrusts as he could. Finally, you unraveled for the second time that night. Your gasp gave way to a moan.

Your tightening walls gripped him like a vice. His release hit him with the same force, choking a near shout out of him. His hand was a bit too tight in your hair, he realized, so he forced himself to ease up.

He petted over your hair instead as he came down with ragged breaths. After he released your shaky legs back to the bed, he leaned mostly on his elbow and thigh instead of sinking all his weight onto you.

You appreciated that. You soothed up and down his back while you panted for breath.

“Wow,” you managed to say.

Dean’s chuckle took him by surprise too.

“Yeah,” he agreed. He turned his head to press a sloppy kiss where your neck met your shoulder.

Just then, a distant-sounding jingle reached your ears. It was familiar…and you remembered it was the alarm on your phone, which was probably in the kitchen.

“Oh shit,” you gasped. “The cake’s still in the oven.”

He blinked. “Well, I don’t smell burning, so we’re good.”

“Dean! You’re a firefighter, remember?” you laughed, but you still tapped his shoulder so he’d roll over. Reluctantly he did, but he still took you with him, even after he’d slid out of you.

You yelped and clung to his shoulders to balance yourself. “I gotta get the cake!”

“Five more minutes,” he grumbled into your neck. He also liked the way your breasts were pressed against his chest.

“It’s going to be so…damn…burnt!” You punctuated each of those syllables with a playful smack on his arm, until he finally released you with a lazy smirk.

You shook your head and huffed in amusement. Sliding out of bed, you searched around your dress. The first thing you found was his discarded undershirt. You slipped it on real quick and cautiously padded out of Dean’s room. You didn’t know if Sam was back from work, but this was not how you wanted to meet him.

The halls were quiet, so you didn’t think he was home yet. You managed to get to the kitchen unscathed, where you turned off your timer and grabbed some oven mitts. You opened the oven and pulled out the cake, setting it down on the counter. Your eyes narrowed at the almost perfect dome on top.

“What’s the verdict, Chef Ramsay?”

Dean leaned in the doorway, dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else. The view was delectable, but you sighed and gestured at the cake with a shake of your head.

“It’s burnt.”

“What? No, it’s not,” he refuted. He joined your side and stared down at the top of the cake, which was half browned. “Looks all right to me.”

“Trust me, it’s going to be dry,” you said, “even with the lemon drizzle on it.”

It was the perfectionist in you that smarted with disappointment. You didn’t want to serve anyone something you weren’t proud of, especially Dean. But he just leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he said. “I’m still gonna eat the crap out of it.”

You glanced at him, unable to help a small smile. He grinned back.

“Anyway, I think it was worth it. Don’t you?” Dean said. He pulled you in towards him by your waist, and you went willingly, resting your hands against his bare chest. You let your nails drag against his skin a little as you contemplated.

You looked up at him with a grin of your own.

“Yeah. Definitely worth it.”

Dean later sat with you again at the table, this time with your chairs closer together as you each ate large slices of delicious cake (even if it was a bit dry). Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the copious number of dishes still left in the sink and the flour and batter sprinkled across the counter.

He knew Sam was going to have a conniption when he got home (in the morning at this rate). He was probably crashing at Eileen’s apartment tonight.

Good, Dean thought. That meant he’d have the place all to himself, with you.

“You know, I just realized something,” he said.

You knew that look in his eyes. He was about to say something smartass.

“What’s that?” you asked. He reached out and thumbed at your chin.

“I just got my dessert twice in one sitting,” he remarked. “That’s pretty damn good, if you ask me.”

You snorted in laughter. You also blushed, but you were unable to stop smiling either.

You set down your fork and eased back from the table. Your hand on Dean’s shoulder encouraged him to do the same, so you could sit across his lap. He welcomed you with a warm hand on your bare thigh. Already it was creeping under the shirt you borrowed.

You stroked his cheek with the back of your hand and gave him a mischievous smile.

“Think you could handle another serving?”

AN: 🫣 Was it everything you wanted it to be? lol I love me some baking innuendo. What did you like more: eating the cherry pie or making the lemon drizzle? 😏❤️‍🔥

In Part 8, Dean's past comes a knockin'...

Next Time:

While you were getting dressed, a phone buzzed on one of the nightstands beside the bed. It was Dean’s phone.

You went over to it curiously as you fixed the straps of your dress. The screen showed a missed text message from last night, around 10:00 p.m., and another one this morning. You read the latest one with a sinking feeling in your chest.

From Marissa: Surprised I didn’t hear back from you last night. The offer still stands. 😘

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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