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sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth · 1 day ago

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Marked (MOC Dean x female reader)

Chapter 6 - Reverse

Mark of Dean series master list

18+. 10.7k words. Broken hearts. Depression. Guilt. Dubious consent. Lots of hurt.

“Fished you all, suckers!” Charlie exclaims, raising her hands over her head, doing a little dance despite the fact she’s sitting down. Sam smiles at her excitement while Castiel shakes his head in utter confusion.

“I don’t see what a card game has to do with any sea creatures,” he says. “Apart from the fact that you could not play this underwater. The cards would get wet. That seems highly impractical.”

Charlie throws Cas an unbelieving look while Sam scoffs, stands, collecting the empty beer bottles.

“Anyone up for another round?” he asks. Charlie does finger guns at him and even Cas nods, despite the fact that he doesn’t really get drunk. Sam turns to you when you don’t answer.

“You want another one?” he asks.

You blink, pushing your thoughts aside, then look at your bottle. You’ve barely touched it.

“I’m good,” you say, forcing a quick smile onto your face. Sam nods, then moves to the fridge.

You take a slow sip, the warm beer feeling strange in your mouth. You keep your eyes on the table because you can feel Charlie’s and Cas’ gaze on you.

“We could play something else,” Charlie suggests, voice over-the-top cheery and you look up at her. “I think I saw a pack of UNO flying around somewhere last time I was here.” You shake your head.

“It’s fine, really,” you answer but Charlie’s already standing up.

“I’m gonna see if I can find it,” she says, just as Sam’s coming back.

“Charlie, it’s fine,” he says, a slight urgency in his voice and you know exactly why. “Let’s just play another round.” Charlie widens her arms.

“You’re all just scared that I’m gonna beat your asses at UNO, too,” she says, not getting the hint. “So where is it? Don’t hide it from me, cowards.”

“It’s in Dean’s room,” you reply, looking up at her. Charlie’s arms sink down immediately, and the smile drops off her face.

“Oh,” he says, voice quiet.

“I got it for him as a birthday present last year,” you explain, feeling bad about ripping Charlie out of her attempt to make this evening somewhat enjoyable so harshly.

You still remember it, Dean opening the small package, an amused look on his face. He watched you while you explained that it had been your favorite game as a kid, and it would give you something to do in motel rooms or on long evenings at the bunker other than drink and watch TV. Dean had one of those strange genuine moments where he hadn’t made a joke, had thanked you and said you’d have to teach him how to play it. If you hadn’t been trying to hide the blush your already intense crush on him was causing you, you might have noted how strange it was that he didn’t know the game.

You’d like to ask him about it now. How it can be that he never played it.

The thought physically hurts your heart. You want nothing more than to hear his voice, see that soft smile when he realizes something means something to you. You would give everything for it. To see it again.

Sam sits down in his chair opposite you again, handing out the beers and distracting you from your memories. You let out a slow breath.

“I’m kind of tired,” you say, not looking at any of your three friends sitting around you. “I think I’m gonna turn in.” You stand, slowly. A month ago, even last week, they would have tried to convince you to stay. Now they don’t. They’re used to you disappearing at some point, locking yourself in your room.

As you begin walking away from the table, you don’t look back at their faces. You know exactly how they look. Forlorn, worried. Sam looks so sad sometimes that it makes you want to sob. But you don’t. Not in front of them anyway.

Your room is cool as the bunker sometimes is, and you could simply turn the heating on but it feels like too much work. Instead, you walk over to the bedside table where your phone is. Usually you don’t go anywhere without it anymore, but last night, before falling into fitful sleep, you forgot to plug in the charger. You woke up to it having turned off in the night. You panicked. What if he called and you hadn’t been awake?

Of course he didn’t call. Still, even now, there’s that moment before you wake the screen where you wonder if there will be a message. That intense hope, the possibility that everything is about to change, to be better. But there’s no new messages. You sit at the edge of the bed with a deep sigh.

As your nightly ritual dictates, you dial Dean’s number and hold the phone to your ear. It rings - and that alone, that fills you with so much hope and desperation - and you close your eyes, imagine him somewhere, seeing you calling and reaching for the phone, answering, You imagine it so intensely that you almost believe you can bend the world to your will, make him pick up.

But he never does. There’s a click, and then you hear his voice: “This is Dean’s other, other cell. So you must know what to do.” And then another click and silence.

There’s so many things you want to say. I miss you, and I love you. Please come back to me. You want to beg him to let you know he’s okay. Want him to tell you where he is, so you can come and find him.

Why did you leave me?

You don’t think you’ll forget that morning for as long as you live. Waking up, your body so burned up and tired you were hoping for death for a second. And then looking up, Dean standing there. Dean, who you had become one with the night before in a way you didn’t think was possible. And he was holding a knife.

You’d seen the way the Mark was changing him. There was no denying it, no matter how much less and less you cared. Not for a second would you have thought that its wrath would ever be turned on you. But right then, you were sure that it had.

And all you wanted was for him to know that you understood it wasn’t his fault. That you knew that he was simply losing the battle against it. Hope that maybe one day he could forgive himself.

And then he left. Left you lying there, stumbled out of the room and drove away. You sat there for a long time, unmoving, deadly quiet. Waiting for him to come back. Only he didn’t.

Eventually, you got up. Got dressed. You couldn’t find your phone, and then you realized that it was probably in the Impala, probably having dropped from your pocket when Dean laid you down on the backseat after choking you out. To protect you. He did that to protect you.

So you walked outside, and then kept walking. No goal, no idea where you were. You were lost to your thoughts, lost in your head, kept thinking over and over. How could Dean leave you? How could he?

And then, that sudden pain. A sharp stab behind your eye, like you’d eaten ice cream too fast. It lingered for a few seconds, and then it was gone.

Eventually, someone stopped their car for you. An older lady, asking you if you needed help. You lied, said your car had broken down and your phone was dead. She allowed you to use hers.

You tried Dean’s number first. Of course you did. No answer, and that terrified you more than anything. The only other number you knew by heart was Sam’s.

You waited in a diner, hour after hour after hour. No money on you, so all you could get was tap water. Eventually, a woman working there took pity on you, bought you some fries. You wolfed them down as if you hadn’t eaten in weeks.

Sam picked you up, half a day and a million weird stares by strangers later. You looked like you’d been beaten, abused, but the one person who asked, the woman who bought your food, you told you had been in a car accident, which, technically, you had been. Her gaze dropped to your throat, to the necklace of red bruising fingerprints, the one Eldon had given you.

“Mmh hmm,” she said, as if she knew something about you you didn’t. Eyed Sam something fierce when he finally showed up. It almost made you laugh. How ridiculous, the idea that Sam could be the cause of your injuries. How absolutely ridiculous.

Sam filled you in, on the drive back. About how Cas had shown up, had healed Charlie while Sam had figured out the spell that could undo the Mark.

“Why didn’t you wait?” you asked, looking over at him. Sam had pressed his lips together, didn’t answer. But you knew why. Because he had been scared Dean would stop him.

Neither of you heard anything from him for three days. Kept calling, texting. The only sign of life you got from him was one message. It arrived when Sam and you were calling contacts late in the evening, going through traffic surveillance. Sam is the one who got the message, not you, and even that fact hurts so much you can’t think about it. Only four words.

Don’t look for me.

Of course you and Sam didn’t stop. Neither of you had that in you. But as the days turned into weeks, the two of you realized one thing: Dean doesn’t want to be found.

You notice that you’ve been staring at the wall opposite you, the phone still raised to your head.

“Dean…” you say, not sure what else to add. What are the magic words that will finally convince him to come back to you? There’s a beep, telling you the time to record has ended.

There’s a knock on the door and you hang up the phone, put it down.

“Yeah?” you say and then the door opens, slowly, and Castiel steps in.

He gives you a careful smile, then walks towards you, finally sitting next to you on the bed. Both of you are quiet for a minute.

“I’m not very good at card games,” he finally says and you turn your head towards him. “So I thought I’d check on you.”

“I’m okay,” you say, and it’s almost not a lie because it is so obvious that you’re not. Still, Castiel nods. You’re both going along with it.

“He just needs time,” he says, turning to you slightly but you avoid his gaze. “A human carrying the Mark, it… it must have been very difficult. Losing it again even more so.” You nod, but it’s just in the hope that Cas won’t stop hammering home the point. Dean is in pain. Dean is unwell. And he’d rather go through it alone than with you by his side.

“Yeah,” you say, just a sound to make. But Cas isn’t done.

“And the effect it likely had on you, too,” he says and you pull your shoulders up, really not wanting to have this conversation with him. You’re not even sure if he knows about the birds and the bees. “You have to be patient with yourself, your system might not be totally flushed–”

“Cas,” you say, voice small, but he doesn’t seem to hear you.

“It will take a while for things to go back to normal,” he continues, and you almost laugh at that word. Normal. It’s an alien concept at this point.

“Sure,” you say and Cas stops, looks at you again, and this time you look back, see he’s pressing his lips together. He was trying to convince himself more than you, and he just realized. You raise your hand, lay it over his, squeeze briefly.

“It’s okay,” you say, now comforting him. “You’re right, it’s all gonna work out.”

Castiel studies you for a second. He must miss Dean too, you realize. The two argued more often than they didn’t over the last months, things often nearly coming to a head between them. But he loves Dean, just like Charlie, just like Sam, just like you.

And still he’s not here.

“You wanted to rest,” Cas says, bringing you out of your thoughts. You can’t even be mad at him for wanting to excuse himself. You’re not great company right now.

He stands, nods at you again, then turns to leave. When he reaches the door, he throws you another look and you give him a reassuring nod. With that, he leaves.

With a sigh, you lie down on the bed. Stare at the phone on your nightstand. Your eyes close and you dream.

You dream that he comes to you in the night.

It’s dark and he’s merely a silhouette, but you would recognize Dean anywhere. The breadth of his shoulders, the noises he makes even when he’s perfectly quiet, the feel of his skin on yours.

He walks in, and you’re not sure if he opened the door or if there never was one. Either way, it’s his room now. You only live here.

He gets on the bed and you reach out towards him, but he’s so far away. Your fingertips brush over him, but you can’t grasp him. Not until he wants you to.

He climbs over you and you could cry from happiness. You can’t see his face - it stays in shadow, no matter how close you drag him towards you. But it doesn’t matter. You know his features so well.

The knife enters you at the same time as Dean does. Wetness gushes, warm and thick, but in his arms none of it matters. He thrusts and so does the knife, and you would take being stabbed a million times if it means having him close.

“I forgive you,” he says and you nod.

“I don’t,” you say. “We have to get up.”

But Dean shakes his head. You don’t fight him. You never do.

There’s a loud knock and you roll over with a groan. The door flies open and for a moment you’re sure something bad has happened.

“Found us a case,” Sam says, hands on narrow hips, open face looking down at you.

“Sam,” you mumble, “what the fuck. Let me sleep.” You hear him chuckle.

“You’ve slept for half a day,” he says. “Come on. Get up. We’re getting out of here.”

You make sure Sam knows how annoyed you are when he passes you the thermos filled with coffee. He’s driving so he keeps looking at the street, but you don’t take the thermos from him, stare him down until he’s forced to look at you. He does, expression curious and chuckles when he looks out the front again.

“What crept up your ass and made you so damn jovial?” you ask, finally taking the coffee from him. Sam shakes his head, still smiling.

“I just woke up and I was tired of feeling sorry for myself,” he says, then throws you a challenging look. “You should try that sometime.” Your mouth drops open. Who is this person? You can’t think of a good retort, so you pour yourself some of the coffee, blow on it, sip it.

“What’s the case?” you ask after a few minutes of quiet. Sam reaches forward, grabs some papers off the dash, passes them to you.

“We’ve got three more hours to drive,” he says, throwing you another look. “Study up.”

You make a face which he just barely misses.

The waistline of your tights is digging into your stomach, the suit jacket is too warm and your hair is up in a way that is annoying you to no end, but worst of all of these things is needing to admit that Sam was right.

The case is distracting you.

You are talking to the roommates of the college student, Frankie, who died under mysterious circumstances - disemboweled in his room, which was locked from the inside. You’re asking them questions, watching for their responses, weird formulations, testing carefully if there might be something unusual about what happened. Damn it. You forgot you actually used to enjoy this. The study of it. Same as the research.

Sam and you walk outside when you’re done, and you look up at him just as he loosens the top button of his shirt.

“So that Brad guy…” you start, and Sam is already nodding.

“Yeah, he definitely has something to do with it,” he confirms.

“Think it had anything to do with those magic mushrooms he gave Frankie,” you continue, just as the two of you reach the car parked outside and you turn back to Sam with a dramatic raising of your eyebrows. “The ones he claims he found? Who eats mushrooms they found? ”

Sam chuckles, agreeing, and then you turn to the side where Dean would usually be to continue the joke and he’s not there.

It’s like a punch to the chest. It’s like someone sucking all air out of the room, even though you’re standing outside. It’s like realizing you lost a limb, and it will never be reattached.

You look down quickly, hoping Sam didn’t notice. You open the door on the passenger side and when you look at him you’re pretty sure he hasn't.

“Hold on,” Sam says and you freeze. He looks down the street, squinting against the sun.

“Let's go for a walk,” he says. “There's a park down there I saw earlier. We've been cooped up all day.”

You don't want to go to a park. You want to crawl back into bed and marinate in your heartbreak. But you're pretty sure Sam's gonna be insufferable if you suggest that, so you decide to spare yourself the battle.

“Sure,” you say, and close the door again.

Sam and you don't speak as you walk down the street. The park is kind of small and shitty, but there are children running around, screaming and playing, there's people strolling and you can't deny that it has a sort of soothing effect on you.

“So,” Sam says, and you stop in your tracks, turn around to face him, “when are we gonna talk about all this? About Dean?”

You wrap your arms around yourself, immediately defensive, but it seems like today you can't get one over on Sam.

“I know you don't want to,” he says before you have a chance to reply, “but you have to. You can't keep carrying this on your own. And I know that if the roles were reversed, you wouldn't let me shut myself away either.” You look down.

“Sam,” you say, and this time he waits, lets you speak. You sigh. “I wouldn't even know where to begin.”

You look up at Sam again. He's looking over your head, frowning, thinking, and then his eyes land on something and a smile starts spreading on his face.

“I know just the thing,” he says.

Sam towers over the other people standing in line at the ice cream cart. He looks out of place there, in his suit, everyone else dressed for the warming weather. When the two of you reach the front, he orders.

“Two soft serves,” he says, then turns slightly to you, eyes narrowing in thought. “One with caramel sauce and one with chocolate sprinkles.”

You shake your head a little, can’t help the distant smile sneaking onto your lips as you watch Sam pay, then take the two cones. He turns, looks over your head again, then nods.

“Let’s go sit down,” he says.

There's a bench, a little bit off to the side and once you're sitting, Sam passes you the soft serve with the sprinkles. You take it, take a small bite. It's soft and sweet. You bite down on a sprinkle.

When you look back at Sam, he's shoveling some of the ice cream into his mouth with a tiny wooden spoon. Of course he does. He's serious even about eating soft serve.

“Do you wanna start?” he asks, only looking at you once he's finished the question. You lay your free hand in your lap, watch him.

“Is that what we do?” you ask, trying to make your voice sound sarcastic but not mean. “We go around the circle and share?”

Sam takes another spoonful, only giving a small smile in response. Not indulging your destructive words. It makes you feel a little bad about them immediately.

“I can start too,” he says, sensibly scoops up some caramel sauce that is threatening to drip off the side of his cone, before he turns to you.

“I'm… angry,” he says, nodding along a little, lips pressed together when he briefly pauses. “And I’m ashamed of myself for being angry.” You look at his face, and you see it there, the shame he's talking about.

“I know that Dean did what he thought he had to,” Sam continues. “That he got the Mark because he really thought there was no other way to kill Abaddon. But it's also… it's what he does, you know?”

He grimaces, shrugs, spoons up some more ice cream.

“Dean barrels ahead, and it's all for good reason,” he says, briefly chewing on the inside of his lip. “And it almost always leaves a bigger mess than we had originally.”

You look down at where you’re holding the ice cream and a drop of the bright red strawberry sauce is just running down on your finger. You should move your hand, wipe it away, but you simply lack the energy in that moment.

“I don’t understand why he would leave,” you say, still looking at the drop of ice cream, because it is easier than looking at Sam. “I don’t understand why he would stay away. I thought…” You take a deep breath, let it out slowly.

I thought he loved me, lingers on your tongue, but you can’t say it. Saying it out loud, in the daylight, in front of Sam, seems wrong. Dean and your love is a thing for the dark, something you whisper to each other in secret.

“I think he’s just terrified by what he did,” Sam says and you blink, look at him. He’s studying you carefully. “I think that’s why he’s staying away.”

“But we did it together,” you say. Sam presses his lips together, and he might not want to hear it, but it’s the truth.

“I know, but–” he starts, eyes going to the ground, but you interrupt him.

“I killed that Eldon guy, Sam,” you say and his eyes snap back to you. “I did that.”

“You know,” Sam says, quickly, “there’s no telling if maybe being that… exposed to the Mark couldn’t have had some kind of effect on you too. I mean, we don’t know how this stuff really works.”

You try hard not to scoff. Sam’s just trying to be kind, trying to make room for the possibility that you weren’t acting under full capacity. And maybe you weren’t. Maybe the Mark did have an effect on you - all the times you felt feverish when Dean wasn’t around, the sudden outbursts of rage, bashing Eldon’s skull in. He deserved it, deserved every second of it but that doesn’t mean you didn’t enjoy it. Something you’d never thought possible before.

“Then I’m the only one who understands him,” you say, voice small. “Why wouldn’t he want to be with me?”

It’s more vulnerability that you’ve allowed yourself in front of Sam so far. Because this is what it all boils down to in the end, what you’ve really been asking yourself - why has Dean left you? Not Sam, not Cas, not Charlie. You.

The small cone of ice scream looks even more tiny in Sam’s hand, and you stare at it. There’s voices carrying over from the park nearby and a soft breeze is blowing. It feels unreal, all of it. The sun hurts your eyes.

“I don’t know what to do,” you say, then need to swallow.

“I know,” Sam replies, and it’s too much work even to look at him. “I know.”

You look down when you hear a dripping sound - something red has dripped onto your shoe. For a second you stare at it. Wonder if you’re so soaked in blood now that it will just always be there, before you realize it’s strawberry sauce.

Sam and you make it back to the motel. There’s less of the unsaid in the air between you two and it feels good, even though you didn’t really come to a conclusion on anything.

On the drive back, you turn to him, unsure whether you will regret what you were about to say.

“You know,” you say, and Sam throws you a look, showing you he’s listening, “Dean said that you… that you wanted me. When he still had the Mark.”

Sam looks out the front, then shifts where he sits.

“Listen,” he says, voice apologetic, “no offense, but… I don’t.” You chuckle, and Sam gives you a surprised look.

“I’m actually really glad to hear that,” you say and he grins, nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “You’re more like a really annoying little sister.”

“ Annoying? ” you ask and it’s his turn to chuckle. Both of you are quiet for a while, but you have to say what’s on your mind.

“I wonder why he said that,” you say. Sam is quiet, then clears his throat.

“You think maybe he was trying to isolate you?” he asks, not looking at you.

His words feel like quicksilver in your veins. Dean would never try to isolate you, you know that. But the Mark? Maybe that’s a different story.

Back at the motel, both of you dive into research. Your brain feels strangely rejuvenated from the time outside but in the end, you're still no closer to figuring out who disemboweled Frankie, the victim.

“Time we pay Brad another visit,” Sam says.

It’s getting dark by the time the two of you make it back. You’re walking up to the front door when Sam raises his hand, makes you stop. The door is open, the wood splintered where someone kicked it in.

Both of you draw your guns, proceed quietly and slowly. Sam pushes open the door and you follow him. You make it a few steps into the quiet, dark hallway when you hear sounds in the other room.

Carefully, you advance. Someone is there, definitely, and Sam waves at you to go the other way around, cut off their possible escape route. You stay close to the wall, in the shadows, and when you reach the corner that leads to the kitchen, you take a slow breath, then round it, pointing your gun.

Whatever you mean to say, freeze or hands in the air or something else, doesn’t make its way up your throat. Instead, it remains in your chest, your lips parted without any sound coming out of it as you see what’s there at the end of your barrel.

Dean is just reaching for his gun too, but same as you, he completely freezes. He’s frowning, looking concentrated, and in the next second, when he realizes it’s you, his features go slack, his eyes widen. Sam rounds the corner only a few seconds later, and he too stops moving.

Dean is looking at you, something soft and lost in his face. He looks… frightened, you realize. You barely have time to take him in when he looks away, turns as he hears Sam behind him.

Sam is equally dumbfounded. He lowers his gun and for a moment, despite how broad and tall he is, he looks like a little boy when his eyes land on Dean.

Sam says his brother’s name and one corner of Dean’s mouth twitches.

“Small world,” he says, voice raspy. His voice. It feels like you’re hearing it for the first time in years. Sam is slowly shaking his head as he holsters his gun.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, unbelieving, as he steps closer to Dean. Dean puts his gun away too, turns a little to Sam.

“Guessing the same thing you two are doing,” he says, carefully throwing you another look, then quickly looking away. “On the hunt for a Rakshasa.”

“Rakshasa?” you say, and this time Dean’s glance doesn’t make it to your face. He looks in your direction and then it’s like he stops himself from going further.

“Yeah,” he says. “Turns out Brad must have invited it in for some reason, and it's been making itself at home here. Only the it got hungry, and Frankie was unlucky enough to be the only one home.” Sam blinks a few times, like it's all becoming so clear to him suddenly.

“They can make themselves invisible,” he points out and Dean nods. "That's why it looked like Frankie was alone in his locked room when he was killed." You try to tune into the conversation, but you can only listen, watch Dean. Watch him move, the way he does now, movement you know so well, have watched for years.

“Any idea where it is now?” Sam asks, and you don't understand how he can be acting so casual at seeing Dean again.

“Yeah,” Dean confirms, steps to the side, then points at something behind the kitchen counter. You see a hand there, splayed on the floor, and a few drops of blood.

You step forward before you think about it. Three long strides take you to the other side of the kitchen counter.

Brad is lying there. The Rakshasa is rolled up next to him, bleeding, eyes ripped open, and Brad's not faring much better, blood and other things coming out of his mouth, his nostrils, bulging under his shirt. He’s dead, disemboweled, just like his roommate.

You feel sickness crawl up your throat quicker than it ever has before. You rush from the room, find the guest bathroom you remember from coming in and a second later, you’re bent over the toilet, puking your guts up.

It’s Dean. He’s in the next room. You almost can’t believe it, almost sure that if you walk out there, he’ll be gone, some kind of hallucination. But when you’re done gagging, you can clearly hear two voices in the next room - Sam and Dean.

You wipe the back of your hand over your mouth, reach up and flush the toilet. There’s a soft knock on the door frame of the bathroom, since you neglected to close the door in your rush.

To say you’re disappointed that it’s Sam is an understatement. You feel a little shaky so you run your hand over your mouth again.

“Are you okay?” he asks, tone gentle and you nod immediately.

“Yeah, just,” you say, “been a hot minute since I've seen someone's guts on the outside.” A lie. You saw lots of guts on the outside in the Styne mansion. Did some gutting yourself. Sam nods.

“Just stay here, okay?” he says. “We’ll take care of it.”

He’s gone again before you can answer. Usually, you would want to be out there, see how they do their job, learn. Be near Dean, because he might teach you something, might lean in to explain something to you. But now you smell like sick. Now you have no idea if Dean will even look at you, never mind teach you something.

You sit down on the floor, lean your back against the tiles of the wall. There’s some dust on the floor across from you, and you stare at it while you listen to Sam and Dean move in the next room, exchanging the occasional sentence.

You know what Sam is doing. He’s trying to act normal, trying to act like it’s not a huge deal to have Dean near again so as not to scare him away, but you saw the look on his face. The pure fucking pain and hurt and longing. He’s just good at hiding it. Unlike you.

It’s a while before you dare to move again. You stand, your legs luckily not feeling too shaky, and then you walk over to the sink, open the cabinet over it. There’s some mouthwash and you gargle some of it along with some water. Then you step back into the hallway.

It seems your timing is perfect, because just then, both men step out of the kitchen. They’re throwing looks over their shoulder at whatever they have done, the crime scene they have fixed. Your eyes land on Dean immediately.

The three of you step outside. The air of early evening is cool and refreshing, and you take deep breaths of it through your nose.

No one speaks, for a minute. Sam looks around, pretending he’s thinking.

“Hey,” he says, addressing both you and Dean, “we haven’t had dinner, we should grab some. Dean?”

It breaks your heart to see Sam putting on his act. He was so gung ho about taking things into his own hands, and you in yours, about not letting life make decisions for you, but he’s just as thrown by his brother being here as you are. You carefully look at Dean, check his reaction.

“That’s alright, Sammy,” he answers. You see the forced lightness on Sam’s face cracking.

“You gotta eat,” he says and Dean smiles sadly, looks at the ground. He raises his hand, scratches at his stubbled jaw.

“I think I should get back to it,” he says, to no one really, and then to your absolute horror, he starts walking across the front lawn. You don’t mean to stop him.

“Dean!” you call out, when he’s just about to start down the street - he must have parked away from the house, not in front of it, like you and Sam did. He stops, his hand on the gate and slowly turns back as you walk towards him. You stop a few feet away from him, wary of crossing that final distance.

“Are you okay?” you ask. Dean’s chewing on his tongue, but then he looks up, right at your face. You look at his in turn, this face you’ve seen make a million different expressions. You’re not sure what you see there, but you know that he’s not coming back.

He lets go of the gate and starts walking down the street without answering. You watch as he becomes smaller and smaller in the distance. You don’t feel your fingers.

Dean makes it back to his motel room at the other end of town. He opens the door, manages to put his gun on the table without submitting to the urge to shoot himself in the head, and then he sits at the edge of the bed, shaking hands pressed against his knees.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He let his guard down. How the fuck did he not know you and Sam were working the same goddamn case as him?

He leans forward, puts his face in his hands. Think, he wants to scream at himself. He should just leave. Grab as many of his things as he can pack in a minute and get on the road again. Everything he owns right now is stuff he’s bought in the last weeks. It would be easy to throw it all into the car and just disappear.

This is how he’s been doing it, the way he’s always been doing it. Pack up, leave, go wherever the next case takes him. That blip of calling the bunker his home - it’s over now, and he’s just gonna have to live with that. It’s fine. He can deal with that.

What he can’t deal with is seeing Sammy. His little brother was nearly buzzing from how hard he was trying to keep it together. Nothing new to Dean, to be the disappointment of his family, to be good for nothing but getting people worried. Sam’s probably used to it too, but that doesn’t make it better.

But you? You’re the last person he wanted to see. Well, you’re also the person he wanted to see the most. If you would have looked happy or indifferent or even angry - he’s played through each of those scenarios in his head a million times. He didn’t expect you to look so broken though.

Not that he doesn’t know what he’s done. Not that he doesn’t know that he’s probably ruined your life. He just preferred thinking you maybe hated him for it. Instead you asked him if he was okay. If he was okay

He nearly died on that stretch of road when the Mark was ripped from him. And then he didn’t and he wished he had. When the layers and layers of protection the Mark had provided him were suddenly gone, when he looked back at the previous weeks, at the pain and the blood and at you - that’s when he wanted to die.

But Dean doesn’t have that in him. He doesn’t have the ability to give up, even though he fucking wished to the heavens then that he did. So instead, he picked himself up. Got all the essentials. And went to work.

And yet somehow he still ran into you. Maybe he can’t escape that - whatever reckoning is coming. Maybe this is the punishment he’s been running from all along. Maybe you deserve your shot.

So Dean picks up his phone and begins typing.

Sam and you don’t talk when you make it back to the motel, nor when you go to buy some food, both only picking at it. You exchange the necessities, and then you sit in front of the TV and you don’t talk again.

All the show of optimism has gone out of Sam. He looks utterly defeated. You’re probably not faring much better.

You say good night to each other and you turn your back to the bed Sam is in. You see the screen of your phone light up, but you’d have to extend your arm to look at it, pick it up, and that seems like too much work. So you don’t.

The next morning, Sam offers to get coffee. You’re pretty sure he just wants to be alone for a bit, so you thank him and accept. You’re brushing your teeth when you check your messages.

There’s one from Dean.

We need to talk, it says. Can you come meet me?

Then the address of his motel. You stand there, toothbrush no longer moving, just staring at the words.

You walk out of the motel room five minutes later. Sam has the car, but you don’t mind stretching your legs. As you’re walking down the street, you smooth down the dress you put on. Suddenly, you feel foolish. You wanted to look pretty. Pretty for Dean. You only brought the dress since it’s part of your standard, dress-up wardrobe. Witnesses are more likely to trust you the softer and more feminine you seem. And now you’re wearing it for Dean. Maybe hoping for the same effect.

The motel Dean is in is run down. You look for the room number he gave you, flex your hands. Then you knock.

There’s movement on the other side of the door and then it opens and you’re looking at Dean. He seems surprised to see you - maybe he didn’t expect you to actually show up.

“Hey,” he says, voice clipped. “Come in.” He opens the door wider and you enter his room.

It’s bare bones. There’s never much spreading out with how briefly you usually stay anywhere during a case, but it looks like Dean hasn’t even done that. The room seems completely untouched. Maybe that means he hasn’t brought anyone here. You blink at your own thoughts.

“Thank you for coming to see me,” Dean says, sounding so formal, so wrong , that it makes you uncomfortable.

“You asked me to, so…” you answer, avoid looking at him.

Dean sits at the edge of the bed, leans his elbows on his knees, and interlocks his hands. There’s an old brown armchair across from where he’s sitting, so you sit down in that. Its seat is worn from use and you sink into it, deeper than you expect. It doesn’t make you feel particularly tough or big or strong.

“I thought we should talk,” Dean says, and you hate how he avoids looking at you. Like there’s something shameful in the air between you. You shift in your seat.

“Okay,” you reply, hoping that if your voice is shaky he won’t hear it on those two syllables.

Dean rubs his fingers over his mouth, thinking.

“What we did,” he says, still not looking at you when he corrects himself: “What I did… I’m so sorry.” He looks up, at you finally, and he really is sorry, you can see it. You run your palm over the back of the other hand, the sound of skin on skin loud in the room.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for,” you say, your voice quieter than you mean for it to be. It’s not fully the truth - there are a million things. Leaving you, not answering your calls, ignoring your messages. But you’re so willing to forgive all that, if only it means that you get him back.

“What I did to you, that wasn’t right,” Dean continues, and it’s fine, it’s okay, if he’s sorry about the last weeks then you can forgive him and move on. But then he adds: “Being with you, that was… I shouldn’t have done that.”

You feel as though someone has pulled a lever and made the floor drop away from under you. You’re hoping, praying that this must be some kind of misunderstanding.

“What do you mean?” you ask, a shuddering breath leaving you.

“What happened between us,” Dean continues, and then he finally looks at you, “our relationship . It’s, I… I took advantage of you.”

There is a fuzziness at the sides of your vision. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears.

“I don’t think—” you start, but then stop, need to swallow. “That’s not what happened.” You blink, and then Dean is really looking at you, searching out your gaze.

“Yes, it is,” he says, voice clear, and you don’t understand why he is doing this, why he is saying these things.

“No,” you simply say, and Dean exhales slowly.

“The fact that you think that,” he says slowly, “that I’ve convinced you that this is okay… it’s not. It’s wrong.” You make an involuntary sound in your throat.

“I’m almost twice your age,” Dean says, as if that means anything , as if that somehow undoes everything you’ve done together, everything he’s done for you, everything you’ve done for him. As if it somehow strikes the lies you’ve told for each other from history, the moments of ecstasy. Like they suddenly don’t mean anything anymore.

“So?” you ask, finding Dean’s gaze, and you see him clench his jaw. “I don’t care. That doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” Dean replies, voice calm. You feel your lips shaking, feel like such a stupid girl, such a child .

“So what?” you ask, voice snotty with the tears building in your eyes, but you sound petulant nonetheless. “This was all just the Mark? None of it was you?” And Dean doesn’t shake his head, doesn’t leap in to say that no, actually, it was him.

“It wasn’t,” he says, “not really.”

You’re on your feet before you know it. Your entire body is shaking and there’s a pain in your chest, in your heart, that you’re sure is gonna kill you. Tears are blurring your vision, but you don’t care.

“I didn’t do this to you!” you say, voice shrill and Dean frowns at you. “I didn’t—I didn’t take advantage of you, or, or, I didn’t do anyth—” A deep sob interrupts you and your hand flies up to your face, the back of it pressing against your nose, but the tears are coming hard. You feel like you’re sliding into hysterics. Dean slowly stands, careful, as if you’re some kind of wild animal he needs to be careful in approaching.

“I didn’t say that,” he says, actually extending a hand towards you to calm you. “That is not what I—of course you didn’t take advantage of me. It’s the other way around.”

“B—but you said it was all the Mark,” you reply, voice blubbering, and part of you thinks you should be ashamed of that, but you can’t be. The sadness and hysteria in your chest feels almost ecstatic and you can’t stop it. You can’t have Dean leave you, not want you anymore. Especially not by being this nice, this soft.

“Y—you weren’t yourself, and I, I abused that,” you continue, momentarily regaining some control over your shaking and crying. “I kept coming back, and you couldn’t say no, because of the Mark.”

Dean’s hand drops, as if in slow motion, and he blinks, his eyes remaining closed for a second. He seems tired. Exhausted. His lets his shoulders hang.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, voice gentle. “Yes, the Mark… controlled me in a way, but I still should have done differently.”

“And now you’re back in control,” you say, and you feel something build in you, something that hurts more than anything else has ever hurt before. “And you don’t want me anymore.”

Dean’s eyes widen. His mouth moves, but no words come out. It hurts almost more than him saying yes. That you gave yourself to him, did all those things with him, but he can’t even be bothered to love you. That you will never get him back, no version of Dean. But then he takes a step closer to you.

“Of course I want you,” he says, green eyes focused on you. “Of course I do, but it’s not right. I shouldn’t.”

“I don’t care,” you say, stepping closer to him, and you want him to understand that what you have is special, is different, it’s not what it looks like from the outside, what someone would interpret it as. You’re not some poor, groomed thing, you love him and he loves you and he has made you feel things you’ve never felt before. And not just the sex, that too, but even that, it has to mean something , right? Two bodies can’t possibly connect that well without it meaning something. The way he protected you, the way you became a team, became one, the way Dean was willing to kill for you, to do anything to protect you. No one’s ever loved you like that. How can you go back to not being loved this way? It’s impossible.

You say all that, or some of it, mumble other parts. You’re not sure if you’re making yourself understood, but Dean steps closer again. His hands land on your shoulders and you want to throw yourself at him, into his arms, just have him hold you, tell you everything’s gonna be alright in that gruff voice of his. But he looks at you, so impossibly soft, the way he can only look at you if he’s willing to let you down now.

“I can’t—“ you choke out, trying to move away, but you misjudge how hard Dean is holding on to you. You stumble a little, and he grabs you, holds you, and he’s so close, brow knotted, lips parted, and you press yourself up, lips meeting his, but barely.

Dean immediately returns the kiss, his hands shooting up to hold your face, pull you closer against him. Stars explode in your head at the absolute bliss of touching him again, of holding him.

But then Dean pulls back, and the cold rushes in again. He’s shaking his head before his lips have even stopped touching you. You notice he’s breathing heavier, and so are you. How attuned you are to each other. It can’t just mean nothing.

“No,” Dean says, swallows hard, “we can’t.” But you don’t let him continue, kiss him again, wrap your arms around him in the hope he can’t escape you. That he won’t want to.

“Dean,” you moan against his lips, still watching his face. “Please, please, I need to feel you.” Dean’s eyebrows pull together, and he looks like he’s in pain, in beautiful, blissful pain.

You let one of your hands drop, bring it to his crotch. You press against him through the jeans fabric, needy, desperate. Dean’s breath hitches and his hands wander down to your hips, fists bunching up the fabric of your dress but he doesn’t move it up, seems to just need to hold on to you.

“Stop it,” he says, but you can’t, you won’t. Instead you press your lips against Dean’s jaw, feel it tense under your touch. In response, you open your mouth, bite him there. Dean flinches, breath coming faster. Your hold your teeth clamped over the bone for a few seconds. Then you let go.

“Please,” you say, before you wrap your lips over the spot you just bit, suckle on it. Dean groans and you know he’s yours now, he has to be, he can’t leave you like this.

But then suddenly he’s pushing you back, surprisingly rough. You stumble a little and stare at him, eyes ripped open. Dean’s chest is heaving, and his face is set.

“I said no ,” he says, voice clear and loud. You feel anger and hate flare in you. It’s clear. It’s beautiful.

“You don’t get to decide this,” you say, your voice so raw it hurts your throat. You step closer to Dean and shove him, hard. He must not expect the move, because he needs to take a step back to balance himself. You push again, this time to no avail. He’s unmovable. You can’t get him to love you, and you can’t even get him to fall over. You feel so weak.

“ Fuck you!” you almost scream at him, and then you raise your fists, pummel them against Dean’s chest. “How could you do that to someone!? How could you do that to me!?” Your fists come down again but then Dean grabs your wrists, secures them in place. His face is torn between horror and grief. Disgust at his creation.

His hold on your wrists tightens, the pain making you snap out of your deliriousness and at the same time fanning the flames of your anger. Of your need. You try to rip them free, but Dean holds them fast, but you are thrashing at him in a way that disregards your own safety. Dean can hold on to you, but he can’t control you pulling your arms back and forth. You’re gonna dislocate your shoulder, he suddenly thinks, terror shooting through him. And when you do, he’ll still be holding your wrist.

So he pulls you in, brings you close to his body, turns the two of you. He needs to stop you, somehow, stop you from moving, stop you from hurting yourself. But not from hurting him , he thinks, because he deserves every fucking punch you throw at him.

He’s not sure if he pushes you down onto the bed or if you drag him or if it’s something in-between. What he knows is that suddenly, he’s falling, and he can’t stop the way his body smashes on top of yours, because he doesn’t let go of your wrists. Then you’re there under him, still thrashing, still fighting him, pushing against him, because you want to be close or because you want to get away, he’s not sure.

Dean will never forget the shame he feels in that moment, the second he notices his body responding to you under him like that. The way your neck is stretched and the way your hips are trying to buck up, only stopped by his pinning yours, sends his mind back to the night he spent buried deep inside of you, just like this. The way he became part of you in a way that made him sure the same blood ran through your veins.

But then you scream, something unintelligible, and Dean is back in the moment, back there, on that bed, where he’s pinning you down while you’re fighting him, and he’s sure for a second he’s going to be sick. He lets go immediately, begins rolling off you to the side, but to his surprise, you push against his shoulders, roll with him.

Dean brings his hands up, not sure what he’s going to do, but his own momentum allows you to roll with him, get on top of him. He’s still terrified of touching you, of grabbing you again, hurting you, so he has his hands slightly raised in front of his chest, not sure what to do with them. He doesn’t expect what happens next.

You push yourself up on your knees, one arm holding you off the mattress, the other shooting down between your legs. Dean hears the metal of his belt and it’s like the sound is coming from far away, before he understands what’s happening. His hands shoot to your legs, pushing up to touch the sweet, soft skin of your thighs and he feels all his blood leave the rest of his body. He squeezes the skin there, hard, while the tug deep in his stomach becomes as violent as a storm. He pushes your dress up far enough to see your underwear.

He knows the pair, knows how they smell when he’s been teasing you for a while. Knows the feeling of them against the pads of his fingers. He stares at them and he can’t look away.

You are opening his jeans now, and Dean reaches one trembling hand forward, between your legs, pushes your panties to the side by hooking his index finger into the seat. You’re wet, and he could sob from that feeling, the dampness between your lips, all for him, only for him. He’s ruined you, but he’s ruined himself in the process.

Your fingers wrap around his cock, take him out, as you begin stroking him. Frantic, too fast, and it hurts but Dean moans at the pain. Let him feel it for a thousand years and still he wouldn’t have paid for what he did.

He’s hard already, but you tug at him again, one, two, three times, and then you push yourself higher, line him up. You’re not looking at him, instead you’re looking down, concentrated, and Dean wants to change that, wants to look at you, to make sure you are aware of what you’re doing, but then his tip touches you and it’s like all his senses suddenly are captured by this.

You sink down at him with an intense whimper and Dean wants to scream, wants to sob and cry from how good you feel, how perfect. He shudders for a second, the ecstasy of you almost too much, before his hands go up to cup your face again. He wants to see you, needs to see you.

But this time, your hands go around his wrists. You pin them down on the mattress next to his head, and Dean doesn’t fight you. You stare at his face, eyes wet, lips parted, strands of hair falling into your face. He’s pretty sure you’re a goddess. You must be, to subjugate him like this.

“You don’t get to touch,” you say, voice hard but clear. There might be a distant tremor in it, but Dean is willing to ignore it. “You don’t deserve it.”

And you’re right, he doesn’t. He doesn’t deserve it. But then you begin moving, begin rocking back and forth on him and now it’s Dean who’s whimpering, as your wet, warm tightness begins rubbing over him. Your eyes flutter closed, your eyebrows going up a little as your face relaxes.

You begin riding him, slowly. You are concentrated, completely focused on extracting your pleasure from him. Dean’s just a body in that moment, and his chest fills with the voice of heaven at that. Maybe he can repent, after all.

You continue riding him, slowly, but somehow not gently. Every single movement is for your benefit, not his. It throws Dean back and forth between the shores of pleasure. There are some movements that make him sure he’ll burst in only a second, and some that make him want to grab your hips, dictate how you move. But your hands are still on his wrists, and while it wouldn’t be much of a battle for Dean to make you let go, it feels like metal shackles holding him down. The way they ground him, make him absolutely yours.

He starts coming closer, starts to feel the urge grow. His balls are tight and he wants nothing more than to fill you up with himself. Maybe through bodily fluids he can somehow make you understand how sorry he is. No, what is he thinking? Maybe he’s losing his mind.

But you keep moving, occasional small noises in your throat as you keep chasing your own end. So Dean holds back. He wants to flex his ass, drive up into you, pick his own rhythm rather than being victim to the unsteady, unreliable one of you. But he can’t do that. He needs to let you decide, because you’re right – he doesn’t deserve it.

After what feels like a torturous eternity, you begin picking up your pace, lips parting wider as you locate the perfect spot, perfect angle at how you want Dean to make you come. He can feel it, too – the spot he keeps hitting, the way it makes you wetter and wetter, makes him slide in easier and easier, and you are so goddamn soft.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, but he can’t come, he mustn’t come. It’s not about him. You begin tightening on him, and Dean groans as you envelop him, breathing hard, movement stuttering more and more. Dean forces his eyes open to see you, and you are shaking, mouth ripped open in a silent scream. There are tears running down your face, dropping onto his t-shirt.

You drop forward, just as it finishes, only for a moment rubbing yourself against him, then still. Dean doesn’t dare move, doesn’t dare do anything to continue, even though he feels like if he doesn’t come now, he’s going to implode. He’s not sure he can hold back if you move.

You do move, then, but only to push yourself off him. He slips out of you, almost gasping, as you crawl and stumble off the bed, nearly topple when you reach the side and stand. Dean’s hand goes to his cock, torn between the handful of strokes it would take to let him finish and between covering himself, hide his shame. He presses his hand against himself, stomach twisting at the promised relief. It would be so easy so just move his hand a little more, imagine it's you.

His eyes must have fallen shut but they fly open when he hears the room door open. For a second, he panics at the thought that someone has found the two of you, has seen him like this then he looks in that direction and it's you opening the door.

So Dean has no choice but to tug himself away, groans at the feeling, and stumbles after you.

You’re walking across the parking lot in quick strides and he catches up with you in only a few steps, grabs your arm but you pull it from him immediately.

“ Don’t touch me,” you hiss and Dean raises his hands, shows you he won’t.

“I can’t let you leave like this,” he says. He sees you open your mouth to say something, but then you don’t. You stare him down, fire in your eyes and it makes Dean love you a thousand times more. Your chest is heaving and your lips are slightly parted. You look beautiful and terrifying.

“Let me call Sam,” Dean says. “To pick you up.”

He watches as you hold on to your reserve and then let it slowly slide from you. You look around once, at the parking lot, and then you nod. Both of you don’t talk as Dean leads you back to the room.

You sit in the brown armchair again while he calls Sam, don’t look at him, don’t speak. Dean leans against the wall at a distance, his entire body still feeling like he has ants crawling all over him. His erection is still painfully pulsing in his jeans.

Sam’s there ten minutes later. Dean opens the door when he knocks. He looks worried, but then he looks past Dean into the room, must see the bed, the blankets disturbed and messy, sees you, eyes down, arms crossed as you walk towards him and Sam’s expression changes. His jaw tenses and he presses his lips into a line.

“I’m sorry,” Dean says as you walk past him, but you ignore him, walk past Sam out of the room. Sam looks after you, then turns back to Dean.

He could probably have seen the punch coming, but right then, he doesn’t. Sam’s fist hits him square against the side of his face, and Dean’s back meets the door with a bang. His hand goes up to his jaw and he grunts, squeezes his eyes shut at the intense pain blooming in his skull. Sam meant for this one to hurt.

By the time he opens his eyes again, Sam is walking away. Dean looks after him and you for a second, then closes the door.

He stands there, hand still on the doorknob, not moving. He’s pretty sure that if such a thing is possible, he’s about to burst into a million pieces, just fall apart on a molecular level. He stands there for a few minutes and when it doesn’t happen, he moves forward, drops himself down on the bed.

He pushes his face into the bedding. Somewhere, somehow, there must be some of you, some of your smell, your presence. He takes deep, hard breaths, hoping to find it, hoping to find anything of yours. His hand slips into his jeans and he wraps it around his aching cock, tries to imagine your face.

But he can’t. As if his brain is trying to punish him, to keep any chance of peace from him, his mind refuses to settle on your image. Instead, when he closes his eyes, he sees blood.

He finds a whiff of you, eventually. Just the tiniest bit there, he’s sure. He presses his nose into the fabric there, gives himself a few hard, rough strokes. He comes with a whimper and a sob and then he lies there.

He wishes the bed was your lap. He wishes he could curl up, make himself small, and just be held by you. By your soft hands. That’s all he wants.

Instead he lies there, in the cold bed. Somewhere someone yells, and someone honks a car, and Dean feels utterly alone.

#supernatural #spn #fanfic #dean winchester #fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader

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cxrsed-angel · 3 days ago

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Scotty Doesnt Know| Max Phillips x Fem!Reader (smut)

summary: your max’s secretary/assistant who been helping him in more ways than one, behind your boyfriend’s back.

wc: 3k

Warnings: boss/employee power dynamic, cheating. workplace/office sex (unprotected p in v), mention of blood and blood sucking, side-effects of losing blood.

a/n: a max phillip fic based on Scotty Doesn’t Know by Lustra, this is for @chaotic-mystery’s wired for you and birthday celebration (happy birthday!!) first time watching this movie and writing for him.

"Yes, yes, we've managed to increase sales by 10% more than last month under my management. I aimed for more, but we may have to change our current employee situation and let a few slow ones go."

You listen to Max on the phone as you take him further into your mouth, sucking his cock. His hand press onto the back of your head as he talks unbothered, like you don't currently have his cock down your throat. You feel him push down more onto your head, forcing you to take him even deeper, making your eyes water as you choke around his dick, your nose against the brown hairs at the base of it. He lets out a soft groan. Your eyes flutter up to see Max leaning back on the black office chair, eyes closed, breathing heavily, and pretending to listen to his boss on the phone as his hand continues to move your head up and down his shaft. You hollow out your mouth as your head bobs up and down on his shaft. You're unsure how much of the lewd blowjob sounds the office phone is picking up, hoping, being under his desk, muffled most of it.

You have been sleeping with your boss for 3 months now. It started when you two were working alone one night, going over the finance, and you were "helping him" when you really didn't know shit about the finances. You left to get a coffee from the break room when Max joined you in the empty break room and fucked on the break room couch. You swore it was a one-time thing and wouldn't happen again. Then he ate you out on his desk, and it continued from then behind your boyfriend and coworker's, Scotty, back. It was going on three months of fucking your boss, you do plan on breaking up with Scott. Eventually. The right time just never came.

"Of course, sir, we're-"his soft groan cuts himself off. "Sorry, we definitely do have some very dedicated and talented employees here." he looks down at you as he speaks slowly, moving, giving you a wink. He lets you come off his cock, letting you take a minute to breathe. You feel his hand come to your lips, gently wiping the spit from them with his thumb.

"Okay, sir. I'll talk to you another time. Bye. " He hangs up the black phone and looks down at you, giving you a small smile as he runs his thumb over your lips.

"Now, back to actually important things." You move your hand around his shaft, jerking him off. You look up at your boss smiling before putting his cock back into your mouth, making Max moan.

"Should add this to your performance review. Amazing and motivating oral skill." Max teases, making you laugh, taking him out of your mouth, and shaking your head at him. "You're ridiculous. You're lucky they didn't have the budget to buy those cameras Ted wanted." Max's hand lighting grabs your hands, making you stand up. "Don't want to make a sex tape with me? I'm offended, I have the perfect title, "Boss Bangs Hot Employee." We could do it in the break room. I've seen that's a pretty popular place for office sex tapes." You laugh again, shaking your head at him.

"Of course you have." You feel him slowly guiding you to his desk, and you automatically bend over it. He slides his hand under your skirt, grabbing your ass over your pantyhose. You hear a small rip before you feel the fabric of your tights rip, exposing your black lace thong. "I'm running out of pantyhose I can wear to work, Max! "Do you have to rip all of them?" You complain as he continues squeezing your ass for a little longer until he presses himself against you. You feel his bulge through his black pants, poking your ass.

"You can still wear them. No one will know, and it'll give me easy access. But I'll buy you more relax." He moves your hips, making you grind against him. "Speaking about that, I've been getting a lot of complaints about your attire piling up on my desk, baby girl." You move your ass over his pants. He pulls your thong down to your thighs. Moving his thumb against your clit slowly as he mentions your hr complaints. You let out a moan as you lean forward against his desk, spreading your legs and giving him better access to your wet core.

You have been testing the bounds of the office dress code lately, coming in with your short mini skirt, a few unbuttoned button-ups, and low-cut blouses.

"Have you really? Huh. Wouldn't know why?" You play dumb as he slowly turns you around, gently pushing you down until you sit on his wooden desk. He runs his hands up your stomach before unbuttoning your white blouse, exposing the matching lace bra to your lace black thong. Max's hands run over your tits, squeezing and groping them. He reaches to the back of the claps on your bra, takes it off, and tosses it over some files on his desk.

"You don't, huh? Well, we've gotten a few about these small skirts almost flashing the other employees when you bend over to put paper in the printer or distracting them as you lean over at your desk reaching for a pen, and these pretty tits almost spill out." You let out a small moan as he pinches your nipples, twisting them a bit and enunciating his point.

"You're lucky H.R. has to go through me to fire you, or they would've let you months ago, sweetheart." He turns you around, bending you over his desk, his hand on the small of your back. You hear his belt unbuckling as he pulls his cock out, not bothering to take his pants off. He runs his fingers down your wet folds.

"Maaaxxx" you whine pressing yourself against him, desperate for him to fuck you. He laughs, mocking you as he plants a smack against your ass. "So bratty. If you want something sweetheart, you're gonna have to use your words. Or is that mouth only good for sucking my cock, huh?" He spanks you again,

"Please fuck me." It comes out low, barely audible, and you already knew he wasn't going to accept it.

You're only met with another spank on your ass harder than the last one, stinging, making you moan louder.

"Please, please fuck me, Max." You beg louder, hoping it was enough for him to get you what I want.

"Thats better, baby. Bet you don't beg Scott this badly to fuck you huh?" He slides his thick cock inside you, drawing out a moan from you.

"Aw, fuck baby you feel so fucking good baby." Max holds your hips, stretching your out on his cock filling you up; you moan as his large hands spread your ass, sliding out till it is just his tip, before slamming back inside you.

He was right. You didn't beg Scotty to fuck; Scotty barely fucks you. It's more like four sloppy thrusts in you, then finishes and rolling off of you. Mutters something like "youre the best", or "love you." Then he'd lazily kiss your cheek and lay down and go to sleep. Leaving you there in bed, horny and frustrated. You can't remember the last time your orgasm didn't come from your rabbit vibrator or your dildo. Until Max. The first time he ate you out on his desk you came so hard, seeing stars, leaving a mess all over the papers on his desk and he still fucked you. Max gives you orgasm after orgasm. On his desk, over his desk, in his office chair, in the breakroom. He'd try to convince you to fuck at the other cubicles, especially Scotty's just to fuck with him but you refused. You know it's wrong, but you couldn't give him up. Maybe it's part of his vampiric powers having a hold on you, controlling your mind. Or maybe it was just you, being unable to resist him.

He thrusts, fucking you from behind, are you bend over his desk, his files pushed to opposite sides of it leaving room for your body ininto you against the wooden desk, the way you needed, the way you boyfriend never does. You feel him deep as he runs his hands over your lower back

"Look at how good you take it, baby. This pussy belongs to me know huh, poor scotty doesn't even know it." You nod gripping his desk, pushing your hips back against his cock, as you moan his name loudly, taken advantage of being the only people in the office.

"Fuck Max! It's yours. It belongs to yous." you cry moaning as he fucks you

"Damn right about that baby. Fuck." he groans, gripping your hips tighter.

Suddenly intercepting the sounds of moans and skin slapping together, your phone goes off, ringing from the where you left it on Max's desk before you got on your knees to suck him off. You don't even hear at first, not until Max stops fucking you. You sit up, reaching for it while Max remains still balls deep inside you. You look at the incoming call screen glowing as it buzzes off the wooden desk.

Incoming Call: Scotty

You look at your boyfriend's name as it rings. You're about to decline when Max reaches and takes it out of your hand, looking to see who it was.

"Damn… not even boyfriend…or any heart emojis baby? Harsh." Max taunts before holding it up to your ear as he accepts it. Your eyes widen, speechless, not expecting him to answer it. You hear Scotty's voice over the phone, still feeling Max's cock inside you. "H-Hello?" you answer as max continues fucking you holding your hips

"Hey, are you still working?" You pull the phone away from your mouth as a few moans slip out before placing it back.

"Yea…yes, um, I'm going over some spreadsheets and all that, um….you know Max really-fuck um- really hates me being on the phone when I'm on the clock." You try to compose yourself enough to not sound like you're getting your back blown out by your boss. You hear him talking about something or another, and you can't really focus. You move the phone away from your face again, turning back to Max, silently asking him to stop, at least until you hang up. Max smirk,s smiling as he slowly pulls out. You assume he's heard your silent plea and try to stand up straight when he hands push you down forcing you to stay as he lefts one of your leg up onto his desk, before inserting his cock inside you reaching that spot, to hitch deep inside you.

"OH MY GOD!" You shout, unable to conceal the moan any better. You flinch remembering who you were on the phone. S-Scotty is this like life or death because I'm really fucking busy." You say rudely and pointed, your voice filled with annoyance.

"No, I just wanted to tell you that I'll be home late hanging out with boys tonight." It was strange that the he's planning on getting wasted on a wedesnday night, but in the moment the only think you can think about is Max's cock fucking deep inside you.

You sigh, rolling your eyes, nodding. "Sure, okay. Bye. " You hang up and go to set your phone on his desk when you see Max's hand grab it out of yours. He turns it off before slipping it into his pant pocket.

"Am I gonna have to start confiscating this thing, huh, baby? You know, hate when you're on your phone in the office." Max's voice going into your head, his condescing tone making you wetter, as he continues fucking you gripping your hips tightly.

You leave your desk near Max's office and walk over to the break room when your boyfriend Scotty comes up to you. He's actually the one who told you about the company as an intern, intending on getting a promotion to sales manager. The two of you would work your way up like a real corporate power couple. Of course, that was until max.

"Hey, I was thinking about going out again tonight. I'll probably be home late. But you've been working so late, too," he says, gently rubbing your arm. You nod, smiling a bit, as you hold your empty coffee mug.

"Yea, well, you know how Max is," you say vaguely as you look at him. "But can we maybe, um, actually talk about something I want to talk to you about?" You suggest, hoping he agrees, that you really have been planning on breaking up with him but never got the chance or have the right moment.

Scotty nods, not really paying attention. " Um... sure, not tonight, but maybe tomorrow or something we could—" Before your boyfriend could finish what he was implying, you hear your boss's voice behind you, appearing suddenly out of nowhere, like he often does.

"Trying to bang your girl on company time, Scott?" He asks in his familiar patronizing and condescending tone, looking at the two of you. A few moments of awkward silence before Max's laugh breaks it. "I'm just messing around. Well, partially, I can't have you getting some during company hours. If I let you two in, I have to let everyone, and we're not really going for a brothel." Max joked, smiling as he looked at Scotty before turning his attention towards you. "Go ahead and get your coffee, then head back to my office. I have calls I need you to make. Thanks, sweetheart."

Max starts to walk away before turning around to you two. " Remember, not on company time." He makes small thrusting motions before shaking his finger and going back to his office.

"Hes such an asshole. can't believe they chose him as our fucking manger." You look at Max as he goes to talk to Linda from marketing a few cubicles down, admiring how hot he is, how gorgeous his side profile is. You didn't even hear Scotty complaining. You finally snap out of it, nodding at whatever your boyfriend had said before mumbling about needing to get back to work.

You return to Max's office, closing the door behind you, and return to your work in Max's office.

A few hours later, you're watching the clock, watching as the small hand moves to the 6 while the big is on the 5. Finally, it's 5:30, and everyone is out of the office except you and Max. You look up from your computer, and Max is still on the phone with a different supplier.

"Who the fuck sell this shit anyway, god why couldn't I be the sales manger of anything else besides stupid shake weights." Max sighs, leaning back in his office chair with his hands over his face. Obviously annoyed and stressed. "Come here."

You walk over and sit on his lap, and he rubs your back before placing his lips on yours, softly kissing you for a moment.

"I skipped my lunch today." Max's finger drags slowly across your chest, unbuttoning the buttons on your black top slowly as he speaks. You wouldn't mind, would you, baby? " You shake your head, tilting your neck for him. Expecting him to sink his fangs into your neck like usually

"No, not at all," you tell him, but he feels your bra and pulls it down, shocking you a bit. You let out a moan as he leans down, sucking in your nipple.

"Fuck… Max." You look at the door, making sure no one is still in the office, before looking back at Max as his tongue swirls around your nipples. "I thought you said I was hungry?"

He nods, lifting his head as he squeezes your tits with his large hand, making you shudder a bit, moaning more. He leans down you see his fang project down as he bites your boob, just about your nipple, right over your heart, sinking them into your skin. You feel him drinking the blood from your chest. Feeling him press his face against your tit deeper. You're frozen, unsure what to do. You take another glance up at the door, making sure no one is there, before looking back down at Max. You hold the back of his head as drips of blood fall down your chest.

He has drunk your blood before many times. From your arm and your neck, but not from your chest and not while he was squeezing, rolling your other nipple between his fingers. Making you wetter, squeezing your thighs together trying to get some sort of relief from the ache between your thighs. "Max," you moan, not knowing it would turn you on this much, that you'd enjoy him sucking blood from your boob this much, youre pretty positive he's over an artery from the pain that came once he peirced your skin but your concern is clouded my your arousal. Your eyes close as Max moves his hands under your skirt, sliding his finger underneath your panties.

"Max" you moan as he rubs his fingers along your folds, never moving his lips from your boob as he continues drinking your plasma, making your eyes roll back closed. He slips his finger inside you thrusting it in and out, for a few enjoying the way your hips roll and buck against his hand until you cum on his fingers, stifling a moan. He drinks more of you as you cum. You feel him remove his hands from between your thighs, then his fangs pull out from your chest. He lifts his head up, wiping your blood from his mouth. You stare into his red eyes, watching them return back to their gorgeous brown color, your chest moving fast as you try to process what just happened.

Max smiles before pulling you into a deep kiss you return, tasting your blood on his lips. He pulls away, but his hand remains on your neck. "Did you know you taste sweeter when you cum, you heart rate increasing, more blood pumping, I've heard some other…my friend… say but its different when you experience it." he leans over grabbing a tissues to stop some blood that was starting to spill from your boobs, he holds it applying pressures as he reaching in his office drawer with the other hand taking out a band-aid, he has for the moments after drinking your blood.

"No-no…no Max, how would I know that…." you say quietly, slowly feeling light-headed. He holds your chin, looking at you closely. "Sorry about that, baby girl. I probably took a few more pints than I should've. You tasted so…I just got caught in the moment." Max stands up, walking over to his mini fridge, opening it, and grabbing a bottled orange juice he also started keeping in his office. he goes back to you, untwisting the cap off. He slowly brings the bottle to your lips as you drink the orange juice. He holds the bottle still. He sets the bottle on his desk, slowly rubbing your back.

"Go ahead and go to the break room and take a few of the cookies; the sugar should help." You nod, listening to him, and leave, going to the break to grab a few of those cookies. You open the break room door expecting it to be empty. I mean, it's almost 6. Who else would be here this late?

You step inside, seeing you boyfriend, fucking another one your coworker against the counter. You freeze for a second. Scotty pulls his head from the neck of your coworker. You don't know what to say. You quietly just grab the plastic box of chocolate chip cookies you came in for.

"I just needed these, " you say, leaving but turning around and looking back. "Oh, and it's over, by the way." You go back into Max's office, a cookie in your mouth. Still dizzy but at least you don't have to worry about Scotty anymore, you smile popping another cookie in your mouth.

#angel writes #max phillips x reader #max phillips x f!reader #max phillips smut #max phillips fic #max phillips fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction

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heathercollinsmd · 2 days ago

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the promised PGY1 collins vs langdon drabble

September 2019 -

The nurse’s station is quiet--too quiet for an ER, which means the calm won’t last. Collins leans against the med cart, arms crossed, watching Langdon from across the counter. It’s only their first week as interns, and already they’ve settled into something viciously competitive, each interaction laced with the kind of sharp-edged tension that comes from two people who refuse to lose.

The scent of antiseptic and stale coffee clings to the air here. Langdon’s bent over a chart, his stupidly expensive pen moving in quick, precise strokes, like he’s trying to prove he belongs here with how perfectly the ink dries.

She twirls her own pen between her fingers--hospital-issued--and lets her voice carry just enough humor not to be fully condescending. "How was the enema? I hope the patient wasn't too much of an ass."

Langdon’s hand stills. He doesn’t look up, but she can see the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers flex around the pen like he’s imagining how effective it is for stabbing.

"Mr. Downing will make a full recovery that my eyes and nose never will.” He (seemingly) tries to be polite but fails when bitterness laces his next question of, “How was the crike?"

"Oh, it was great." She pops the ‘t’ like bubblegum. "Attending didn’t even have to step in."

Like Robby did with your attempt.

Langdon’s pen digs into the paper, leaving an angry indent. "I’m sure."

She watches with satisfaction as his jaw clenches, and taps her fingers against the cart. She should probably leave it there, but she's still pissed about the patient from yesterday, Mr. Everett.

The man had writhed through Collins’ entire abdominal exam before Langdon swooped in with his "bedside manner"—which consisted of handing the guy a water and cracking a joke about hospital food. Yet somehow, he got the thank-you letter sent to administration.

Collins gives in. "You should really be faster next time."

This appears to be the last straw, because she can practically sense the bitchiness surface, amusing her even further.

"Well if someone--" He jerked his chin toward Robby's empty desk, taking advantage of the emptiness to make his point. "--wasn't busy staring at your ass, maybe I wouldn't have to be."

Collins' smirk deepens. If he's resorting to bringing her gender up, she's really beating him. Right as she's about to reply It's not my fault you don't have one, they're interrupted.

"Langdon."

The voice slices through the ER hum like a scalpel. Collins turns to find Robby standing three feet behind them, his presence somehow both sudden and inevitable. When had he approached? His face is calm but his knuckles pale around the charting tablet in his grip.

"A word. Now."

The command leaves no room for negotiation. Langdon's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. Collins opens her mouth to explain - not to defend Langdon, but because she won't have her victory stolen by interference - but Robby's glacial stare freezes the words in her throat.

"Not a word." Each syllable is precisely measured. "Langdon, with me."

Dana sidles up to Collins, eyes tracking Langdon's sullen march toward admin. "What exactly did Langdon do?"

"He's just jealous he's not the center of attention." Collins shrugs, avoiding Dana's knowing look. The older woman is well aware how much she and Langdon push the boundaries of work-appropriate antagonism.

"So something misogynistic."

"Please." Collins waves her off. "Langdon's just mad he can't get to me after all the time I spent with Wall Street bros."

What unsettles her isn't Langdon's pathetic jab anyway. It's the traitorous warmth spreading through her chest at Robby's intervention. For weeks he's treated her with professional indifference, his gaze sliding over her like she's part of the furniture if he's not instructing.

And it's not like she plans to do anything with her attending, she isn't stupid--or her younger sister--but… she isn't exactly drowning in men from her past who respect professional ethics.

(Again. Wall Street.)

That, and…

Heather Collins has never met a straight man she would have to chase.

#frank langdon and his penchant of making robby face uncomfortable truths #heather collins #frank langdon #collins & langdon #rollins #*by me #tv: the pitt #the pitt fic

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a-loose-collection-of-ants · 4 months ago

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Okay so I was doing something for work and sifting through some old things on my computer.... and I found this???

#what fugue state did I enter to create this and then forget about it #I do actually remember making this but it was like #a year ago #rip buddy #channeling your spirit by writing my philosophy final after drinking too many margaritas and getting an A anyway #john laurens #amrev #flashing lights #the empty ass room is really doing it for me

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red-dyed-sarumane · 3 months ago

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i should make my blog title nou ni arou NLL wo again thats such a fun line in aru sekai shoushitsu

#ude ni arou all wo is my fave line but the nll one is also good #no thoughts head empty ass line #the fact the first time i used it for somthing emimin thought it was My head empty joke.#no. no thats a real lyric.#its in the second half of the 11 minute song so i understand if we've all zoned out by then but its real #i love you aru sekai shoushitsu no ones doing it like you do #new followers dont know i painted the ude ni arou all wo line on the wall above my bed in my room back in the states #i cant do it here i'll get in so much trouble #kind of miss having a room i can do anything too. oh well. small price for the whole everything else #the fact i cleared a whole wall to paint tenshi on it & then lost the painting urge & it never happened. lmao.#i also have the shinu hodo kirai da from ningenrashii on a wall too #and the ichido kowareta mono wa moto ni wa modorenai toka shiru yoshi mo nai from hyperlexia on a wall too #i was not having a good time there #anyway i want to redo my mobile layout but what EXACTLY do i want to do with it HMMM #wait i have a really funny idea that would be so much work & amuse only me

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gifti3 · 2 years ago

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I wanna imagine a demon asking asmo what mc likes cause theyre interested in them

I think he'd sabotage them on purpose by convincing them they arent MCs type (whether thats true or not) or giving them misinformation

#And uk hes trying to act innocent and cute about it like he didnt just crush someones hopes #How mc gonna get ass like this? 🙄#Lol but seriously mc wont even know that person was interested in them #Ud think he wouldnt have to do that since hes the 'most beautiful being in existence'#And id like to unpack that on my endless rant about how asmos jealousy and insecurities manifests in a way #Where he needs to bend situations to his liking instead of just processing and accepting like a well adjusted person #And him having that strong of an ability to charm people is so not fair ahajajs #An mc that hates him and makes it known would probably drive him nuts #*walks back and forth in my empty room while talking to the walls*#If there were proper routes i think wed get to see amazing character development!#Ive seen fics touch on this before and i love fandom for this #Belphies route would be so cool too #But im not trying to get off topic #ANYWAYS Asmo trying to charm mc without thinking when they have a disagreement #Mc is like 'really dude? 😠'#Asmo: oopsie #This would be a (possible) scene in the asmo route that exists in my head #Obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me nb #Anyways this is just my speculation #I could be off my word isnt law or anything

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pastellmochi · 5 months ago

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what kind of sicko would come up with this

#waterboardinf everhone at avex WHO DO YOU WORK FOR !!!!! this image smells so bad anyways kenta gimme your dirty laundry let me #bring my hands around your neck and either kiss you or snap you like a chicken birthed for its meat i volunteer to be his napkin guys takin #one for the team ive never unironically yunogasai posed until now tousled hair and a messy shirt they are doing direct attacks now Ok #sentencing whoever came up w this to a thousand years of ass eating i must put him in the grand hall as a beautiful tapestry or a.#carpet and like cleopatra im wrLet me pick your teeth for you and eat and lick whatever bits are left or if you want ill spit them back int #your mouth my legs are weak my knees buckle mynoose is Off my neck and its on his waist instead im tugging him across the ocean to me #really happy to wake up and be alive for this i kept having dreams about my mother telling me to kms so glad im alive and glad #kenta is in the room w us rn. i love kissing bruised knuckles as my mutuals know so i will bruise his knuckles then kiss him and i wont lea #e a spot empty he’ll be covered in red stains (reapplying red lipstick) this fuckinf image has got me like pavlovs dog how does he not #fall in love with his reflection how about i pop out his eyeballs and we trade eyeballs and maybe then hed see how attractive he is. i cann #bear to think about well dressed normal kenta because that would be worse than if i took mysterious unlabeled pills i love whatever you are #he deserves to be happy and well fed (putting on an apron) i’ll be like a fruit fly i wont stop bothering this guy ever i put the Fruit in #ruit fly you ask me how i am and you turn and im a tumbleweed and pile of ash thats smoking a little hes smoking a lot though #kenta i need yer number so i can call you in the middle of the night and say you look handsome all sleepy like that which id know since im #there im htere with him he just doesnt notice aaauaagh dark they were and golden eyes and by dark i mean edgy teen God i want him #every day has been severe joy attacks one day i’ll take him #and climb up a large building waving him around i need to sleep i need to sleep bht when i close my eyes he’ll still be there #im all yours kenta

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rafesangelita · 22 days ago

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♡ covering stepbro!rafe’s mouth while you ride him

warnings: rafe lecturing you lol, unprotected sex, groping, spanking, hair pulling, biting, teasing (?), cream pie

a/n: inspired by this p!link ૮ . . ྀིა⁩ send me a message or an ask if you’d like an invite to join my private community!!

“what the fuck are you doing?!” rafe rolled over upon hearing his bedroom door open, his eyes widening when he saw you walk in completely naked. “what?” you pouted, crawling into his bed. “you can’t just walk around like that, are you crazy?!” he shot up, making sure his door was locked before pinching the bridge of his nose. “our rooms are right next to each other.. no one saw me if that’s what you’re worried about.” rafe scoffed, shaking his head before grabbing ahold of your arm. “it doesn’t matter! anyone could’ve walked out of their rooms, and then what?!” you swatted his hands away, rolling your eyes.

you always found it ironic for rafe to act like he didn’t want you in his space, considering he had no problem taking up all of yours. “are you really gonna act like you don’t want me in here right now?” you batted your eyelashes at him, trailing a hand up his forearm as he sighed in defeat. “i just wanted to see you..” rafe blinked slowly, his eyes catching the way you bit your bottom lip as you palmed him through his underwear. you made things so hard for him, it was impossible to resist you. “please, let me use you, my fingers aren’t enough, ray,” rafe groaned, imagining you touching yourself next door, “i’m so wet already, you don’t have to do anything..”

like always, rafe let you have your way, both of you now laying in his sheets as you lined him up with your entrance. “you can’t make a sound, i mean it this time— holy shittt.” you smiled when rafe cursed under his breath, his hands resting in the curves of your hips as you sunk down onto his cock. pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, you clamped a hand over his mouth as you started a steady pace, both of you moaning in unison. you were clenching around him so tight, rafe swore he could empty his load right then and there. “looks like you’re the one who has to be quiet—”

as if on cue, you shrieked when rafe thrusted into you from below, your clit pressing against his pubic bone as he wrapped a fist into your hair. knitting your eyebrows together, your mouth fell open as he started slamming his hips into your own. sitting up and pulling you up along with him, you bit into his shoulder as he locked your hands behind your back, prompting you to sit helplessly as he fucked you into oblivion. rafe ignored the sting of pain shooting up from his shoulder to his neck, the tension in his stomach threatening to release with every cry of his name.

you two were so fucked already when it came to keeping your depraved little ‘arrangement’ a secret, rafe knew it was pointless to shut you up even if he tried. landing a harsh smack to the flesh of your ass, he groped you in the same spot until you kissed him sloppily, your own high hitting you with an unforgivable force. rafe’s face scrunched up as if he was in pain even though he was experiencing anything but, and finally let go, his cum spurting inside of you as your walls fluttered around his length.

pulling out hastily, you gasped when he pushed you onto your back, both of you looking down as you two watched his seed dribble out of your glistening cunt. running his tongue over his bottom lip, rafe held your thighs open as he used his cock to gather his cum and glide it up and down your pretty folds. sighing contentedly, you looked up at rafe and felt your stomach erupt in butterflies when you saw that he was already looking at you. “you’re nothing but trouble, you know that?”

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fairy-angel222 · 1 year ago

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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—geto showing gojo how to fuck you like you deserve

pairing: geto x fem! reader x gojo

content: smut, voyeurism, cuckholding, creampie, cunnulingus, cum eating (gojo eats geto’s cum out of you), praise, degradation, hair pulling, fingering, fingering, consensual cheating, overstimulation, choking

a/n: i’m really sorry for the repost, tumblr flagged the first one :’)

Geto showing Gojo how to fuck you, Gojo’s darling little girlfriend, just right. Gojo sitting on the single sofa in the two’s shared living room. With Geto on the large one and you on his lap with long fingers deep inside you, curling against your g spot as he pumped them in and out. His other hand was wrapped tightly around your neck, forcing you to keep direct eye contact with your boyfriend.

Gojo gulped hard as he felt his boner grow impossibly harder, straining against his pants as his face grew hot at the sight. Soft moans and pants were leaving your pretty lips as your body jerked with every thrust of Geto’s fingers. “See that? I’m barely even doing anything and she’s becoming a mess.” Geto scoffed, giving you no warning as he began hammering his long fingers into you at a rapid pace.

The curled digits were hitting your spot so perfectly, making you cry out loudly in pleasure. Your legs threatening to close as you whimpered, letting out a yelp when Geto slapped your thigh in warning. “Behave, slut.” You whimpered once more, teary eyes meeting your boyfriend’s as your mouth hung open in pure ecstasy.

“F-fuck.. feels.. f-feels so good,” you moaned, eyes closing as you tried to lean back against the huge man.

“Look at him. Look at your boyfriend try to contain his boner.” Geto increased the pressure on your throat, keeping your head in place as you looked towards Gojo who kept looking away. “Bet he’s never even made you feel this good,” he falsely cooed, sending Gojo a smirk before focusing his attention back on you.

A loud moan escaped your throat when Geto inserted a third finger, stretching you out in preparation for his cock. His fingers curling against your gummy walls, and you could do nothing but whimper and cry as you neared your orgasm. “A-ah—” you mewled “m gonna, ngh— ‘m g-gonna cum,” you moaned, body starting to tremble as you felt a not so familiar coil building up in your stomach.

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers and show your boyfriend what he could never do?” You nodded vigorously, your head empty as you babbled out little yeses and pleases. Geto’s eyes connected with his roommate’s, a teasing smirk on his face, “you know, you can get off to me ruining your girl if you’d like, there’s no shame in it,” he shrugged.

Gojo scoffed, rolling his eyes as he cussed the black haired man under his breath. Geto brought his lips down to your ear, “as for you, you don’t get to come until you’re nothing but a brain less slut on my cock.”

With that, the man removed his fingers from your now fluttering hole, causing you to whine out in protest, tears pooling in your eyes as you felt the coil slowly subside.

Geto lifted you up with ease, placing you on your hands and knees with your face towards Gojo before filling you up immediately. His length reaching deep inside you making you let out a soundless scream. Geto started off rough, fucking into you like he had nothing for you but hatred.

His hips slammed bruisingly against your ass, cock bullying its way against your g spot with every merciless thrust. Your eyes rolled back as you let him flatten your cheek onto the cushion of the chair. Drool pooling near the side of your mouth as you were rocked back and forth at a speed that seemed humanly impossible.

Your head was foggy, loud sobs and incoherent moans of his name spilling past your lips. “C’mon, you can do better than that. Let him know who’s making you feel this good,” Geto grunted.

“Y-you— fuck- you are, ahh,” you let out a loud cry, “you’re making me- nghh— making me feel this good. Can feel you so deep,” You whimpered, hesitantly looking towards your boyfriend’s direction to find him cock in hand, trying his hardest to match his fist to the rhythm of his friend’s thrusts.

Gojo groaned loudly when his eyes met yours, the sight of your fucked out face sending blood straight to his dick. Geto chuckled at the other male, gripping onto the curve of your waist as he continued to hammer into you, angling himself to hit all the right spots to drive you crazy.

You mewled as you arched your back, his cock practically pushing against the skin of your lower stomach with each movement of his hips. “There we go..” he cooed, watching as your face contorted into one of a pretty little slut who craved nothing but cock. His cock.

“See that? This is exactly what the bitch needs to look like. Like there’s nothing else in the world but your cock fucking into her, isn’t that right baby?” he groaned.

“Mhm!” you cried.

“Fucking hell- you’re so tight, feels like you’re gonna break me in half,” Geto grunted. And all you did was let out an incoherent babble in response, barely even registering his words as you were fucked into oblivion. Your eyes teary with nothing but pleasure.

Stars clouded your vision and your toes curled as you neared your release, “S-suguru.. ‘m gonna cum, please let me cum. Wanna be your good girl ‘n cum on your cock,” you cried out in between broken mewls, eyes puffy as you tried to look back at him.

“You’re an even bigger slut than I thought, I hope your little boyfriend is taking notes on how to treat his slutty little girlfriend.” his voice was deep and raspy as he neared his own high. “Go ahead- fuck, look him in the eyes and cum for me.”

You let out a string of high pitched moans when he began to rub your clit, your brain fuzzy as glassy eyes looked towards Gojo. His mouth opened in pants and groans as he approached his orgasm with you. “Ngh— ahh. Gonna cum Suguru- ‘m a good girl right? P-please tell me ‘m a good girl,” you whined.

Geto’s eyes widened, his dick twitching at the pure desperation in your voice as you begged to be praised. He smirked, watching your ass recoil with each of his harsh thrusts. He hummed, “Such a good fucking girl for me, taking me so well.” His breathing getting heavier by the second, “Fuck, you’re my good girl baby.”

You let out a high pitched cry, “T-thank you, thank you, oh god ‘m cumming— nghh.” Eyes never leaving your boyfriend’s as your body quivered, pussy tightening as you came all over another man’s cock.

Gojo did not take long to follow after you, “Oh f-fuckk.” he groaned out as his body spasmed, fist halting around his reddened cock as his cum spilled onto his stomach in hot spurts.

Satisfied, Geto pulled you up by your hair, your back arched against his chest as he continued to fuck into you relentlessly. Pulling out another loud string of moans from your swollen lips. His head fell back, never slowing his pace as he reached closer and closer to his release.

He grunted, his breath hot on your ear when he let out a long groan. “Gonna cum in you baby— gonna fuck you full and make your boyfriend eat you out.” He whispered, his dark eyes meeting Gojo’s hungry ones.

“You’d love that won’t you baby?” you nodded with a shaky whine at his teasing coo, feeling his thrusts becoming hard and slow.

Geto let out a string of curses, stilling inside you and allowing his cum to fill your tight pussy to the brim. A glare on his face when Gojo opened his mouth to protest.

“That’s it. Take my cum deep. This is exactly how pretty little sluts like you need to be treated.” he coaxed, slowly pulling out of you for the milky substance to seep out your hole in spurts.

“Now, Satoru. Come clean her up.” his deep voice demanded. Sitting back with you on his thighs. His rough hands spreading your legs open towards your boyfriend.

Your folds glistened with your wetness, his cum slowly dripping out of you as you clenched around nothing. “Come on. You know you want to.”

Gojo stood up. Being stopped by Geto who grinned.

“Crawl.”

Gojo huffed lowly, getting down on his knees and crawling his way over to you. His tongue swiping over his lips before he found his head buried between your thighs. A soft whimper sounding from your throat at the light overstimulation to your sensitive clit.

Gojo licked up your folds, sucking both your sweetness and geto’s saltiness onto his tongue. You moaned loudly when he latched his mouth onto the small bud, his tongue swirling around it making a string of cries fill the room.

Geto watched in amusement as his friend devoured your sopping pussy. His long tongue dipping into your hole and curling into your painted walls. You let out a mewl, your head resting on Geto’s hard chest as your boyfriend used you as his meal.

“O-oh, S-Satoru baby,” you mewled, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging with every movement of his wet tongue. “F-fuck— so good.” you let out a broken cry when Gojo thrusted two of his slender fingers into you. Lewd squelching sounds echoing the walls as he fucked them into you.

Your pussy gushed onto his hand, the man’s skilled tongue unable to keep up with your leaking juices. Your eyes rolled back when he sucked on your clit once more, body shaking lightly at the sensitivity.

Geto smiled, kissing down your neck while running his thumb along your bottom lip. Slipping it inside and pressing it at the back of your tongue. He hummed, “Think we should feed his lil ego?” Your head tilting to the side to let him graze the skin of your neck with his teeth. “Make a mess on his tongue?”

You twisted and turned as your second orgasm washed over you. You were so sensitive, trying to squirm away but having your legs held tightly opened by Geto. “O-oh fuck— ahh, ‘s too much.”

Gojo moaned into you, his face becoming more drenched by the second as he feasted on your wetness. Hungrily lapping up everything you had to give. Your pussy squirting messily against the force of his fingers inside you.

“Look at that,” Geto teased, “Finally made your girlfriend squirt.”

Gojo kept on with his torture, loud whines and mewls falling past your lips as he became drunk on your pussy. His eyes closed and his mouth latched onto you tight. His face moving along with the movements of your hips trying to escape him.

“S-satoru— nngh- too much.” you sobbed, your legs twitching and your hips jerking as your back arched, your boyfriend getting back to almost painfully licking at your clit. “Satoru, ‘m too sensitive- fuck.” Gojo only looked up at you with half opened eyes, the only thing on his mind being how fucking good you tasted on his tongue.

Geto groaned, your teary face making his dick rock hard again. “Give him one more yeah? You can take it.”

Your second one did not take long to engulf you whole. Your legs trembling once more as you cried out loudly. Mewls of Gojo’s name falling from your tongue as your stomach tightened, pussy spilling even more onto his face. Gojo kept his face buried in you, tongue still making its final laps despite your constant whimpers.

“Okay now, that’s enough.” Geto laughed, peeling Gojo off of you by his hair. Your boyfriend letting out a groan as he tried to latch back onto you. “Gotta get our girl cleaned up now.”

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holeforzenin · 1 year ago

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Jujutsu Kaisen Men + How they'd moan w/audios.

Tw - dirty talk, assplay in Suguru's, daddy kink in Nanami's, (Got a bit carried away in the geto one haha) also not proofread cause I got tired.

A/n this was requested so tysm to the person that requested it but a part of it is kinda a repost because I've already done something similar before but I hope you guys like it! Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, Nanami

Gojo Satoru

This is how Gojo sounds when he's close. (Ik this because he fucked me before so you can trust me on this)

He's very loud when he fucks you and he'd also whisper a lot of nasty shit to your ears while he's rutting his hips inside you, fucking you deeper into the bed while he has your legs over his shoulders, hissing and groaning at the way your tight cunt sucks him in so well, while your sinking your freshly manicured nails that he paid for into his back, decorating it with angry red marks and when he's close he'd be panting and breathing heavily on top of you, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead onto you from how much he's been fucking you.

"Fuckfuckfuck gonna fill you up so good baby, m'gonna stuff you so full of my cum, bet you'll like that yeah?".

Geto Suguru

This is how Suguru sounds while you're riding him in cowgirl position, he has a clear view of the way his cock slides into your soaked cunt every time you bounced on it, he just can't take his eyes off of it, the way your cunt would swallow his cock in and the way your ass jiggles every time you moved your hips, it was so hot. One thing that really caught his eye though was the way your asshole looked so neglected and desperate to be filled, he thought this would be the perfect opportunity to try something.

he spat on his right thumb, making sure to gets his spit all over it to use as lube before circling it around your hole, spreading his spit all around it then sinking his thumb slowly into the tight rim. He hisses as he felt how tight your ass was, clammed around his finger. He noticed how you started slowing down, and how your moans got so much louder, he lands a sharp slap on your ass. "Fuckkk sweetheart k-keep going, Fuck yeah, keep bouncing on my cock, yesss that's it, don't worry princess I'll make you feel s'good". He groans, feeling your cunt fluttering and cleaching around his cock.

He starts thumbing your ass, fucking his finger in and out of you matching your rhythm. "Holy fuck need you to cum, Be a good girl and cum f'me yeah?". He hisses, feeling you thrusting your hips faster and faster onto him, your brain gets all fuzzy and blank it was too much, both of your holes were getting stuffed and penetrated. You start feeling yourself getting closer and closer as you bounced yourself on top of him. "F-fuck sugu gonna cum, M'gonna cum!" you cried out. "Go ahead, cream on my cock baby you can do it fuckk", and that's all you needed to hear before you came undone, creaming all over his cock, rings of your nut appearing at the base of his cock, his thumb still buried in your ass to the hilt. He lets out a loud groan, looking at how your creamy cunt covered in cum. "Good fucking girl, see the mess you made on my cock baby?".

Toji Fushiguro

This is how he sounds when he's close, he doesn't really make that much noise while he's fucking you, maybe you'd earn a few groans and grunts once in a while because of your cunt but most of the time it's just dirty talk.

But when he's close, he gets so much louder and faster, he picks up his pace, hammering into you harder from behind while your face is buried into the pillow beneath you and landing harsh slaps onto the soft flesh of your ass while looking down to watch it jiggle everytime he thrust his hips against you. the sound of his cum filled balls that's waiting to be emptied inside your little cunny, slapping against your clit filling the room with each thrust along with your muffled moans. Your cunt was clamping around him like crazy because one thing about Toji, he always fucks you so good every damn time.

"Holy fucking shit, tight little cunt milking my cock so well, you gonna give me another kid baby or what?".

Choso Kamo

This is how he'd moan while you're on your knees sucking his cock and he's getting close; he'd be whimpering and moaning loudly while saying stuff like "pleasepleaseplease m'so close don't stop please" with tears prickling from his eyes while he's looking down at you. He begs you alot and he's also really sensitive so that makes him moan and whimper even more.

Nanami Kento

This is how he sounds when he's ramming his cock up into your poor messy cunny in his work office, purposely molding your tight hole into the shape of his thick girth as his large beefy hands gripping onto the back your thighs to hold your legs up into a full nelson-type positon but the difference is that he's sitting down and your back is leaning against his board chest.

His thrusts was hard and fast as he continues feeding your greedy tight cunt with his fat cock, loud pants and groans escaping his lips at the way your cunt tightens around his cock while he stretches you out. "Hah- oh fuckk such a good little slut, taking daddy's cock so well, s'good f'me baby". His deep and husky voice made you throbbing around his cock while he ruins you.

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gracieheartspedro · 17 days ago

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You Really Got Me Now

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5.2k words

description: your best friend and roommate eddie is pissing you off, per usual. his way of making you feel heard is not very conventional.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, no use of y/n, roommate au, lowkey pwp, best friend!eddie, reader and eddie are both in their 30s, a bit of force proximity, reader is awkward as fuck (she just like me), reader hasn't gotten dick lately, mentions of voyeurism (eddie and reader have listened to each other having sex), kind of dom!eddie, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, lots and lots of dirty talk, eddie cums in reader.... annoying ass neighbors?

authors note: yeah i don't know. i'm just horny for this man. all of the time. thanks to lindsey @amanitacowboy who CONSISTENTLY feeds into my delusions. love u.

how to help palestine ~ dividers by @cafekitsune

He pissed you off for the fourth time today.

You had spent most of your day doing yard work, trying to ensure the home you two shared did not look overgrown for your snooty neighbors. They already hated that there was an unmarried couple living next to them. Even worse they were not even a couple.

Eddie and you had been friends for over a decade. When you two could not find someone to settle down with once you both turned 30, you decided to rent a house together. You were sick of living at home with your parents and everyone else around you was in love. Steve had Kira, Robin had Vicki, and well… you had Eddie. Eddie had you. But not in a romantic sense.

That’s what you two told yourselves, at least.

Made crystal clear years ago, you and Eddie knew your friendship meant more than some knee jerk desires. You had kissed once, and you would be lying if you said you did not enjoy it. He was tentative, kissing you like he was trying to melt all your worries away. At the time, it was a desperate attempt to distract your mind from a shitty break up and Eddie had gotten a bit too high.

That next morning, you sat down with him and discussed boundaries. No kissing, no sex. That was the hard line, and for years, you two had kept that promise to yourselves.

There had been moments. An evening out with friends where you two would dance all night together and when you parted to go to your separate rooms, you would linger in the hallway just staring at each other. No one ever caved because you both knew you would regret it in the morning. Or the tense nights where one of you said something to rub the other person the wrong way. Sometimes it would turn into you two apologizing in the dimly lit kitchen, hugging and swaying near the flickering oven lightbulb.

Today was going to be one of those days for sure. Everything he did rubbed you the wrong way.

He had not done the dishes last night, deciding to stay up late and drink himself into a deep slumber. When you woke up, wrapped in your falling-apart-at-the-seams robe and saw the dishes, you wanted to throw an empty beer bottle at him. But you didn’t. You just did them and didn’t say a word.

Then there was leaving his wet clothes in the washing machine. The moment your nose got a whiff of the despicable scent of molding clothes, you slammed the top down and groaned his name. He was not even in the house, deciding as soon as he woke up that he needed to go get a pack of cigarettes from the gas station.

Then there was him being adamant about washing his van with the hose you were trying to use to water the dying plants in the flower beds surrounding your front door. You just grit your teeth, jerking your head into a nod when he asked for it.

Now here he is, making you mad again as you sweat all of your body weight over some weeds.

“I’m having some of the guys over tonight for some burgers-” “No.”

He narrows his eyes at you, swatting a gnat away from his face as you place your hands on your hips.

“Why not?”

You had a list. A big long list. The house was a disaster. The neighbors called a noise complaint last time. The grill needed propane.

This was the tipping point. “Eddie, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you in our front yard,” You blow up, throwing off your gardening gloves, “You haven’t done shit for this house in months. I am like your own little personal housewife. I am the only person in this house that keeps it nice and clean. I haven’t had a night out in months because I am using my weekends to keep up with this shithole. I haven’t had a guy over in over a year, for fucks sake! No guy wants to fuck a girl who lives with a shitty roommate who can’t even clean. I need… I need your help.”

His demeanor shifts, his shoulders slumping a bit. You did not mean for the word vomit to come out like that. You sounded vicious, but all of it needed to come out at sometime.

“Sweetheart-” But you do not want his excuses. You wave him off, storming towards the front door and swinging open the glass door, letting it shut behind you. You needed cold A/C on your face. You were about to pass out from anger and heatstroke. Damn Indiana summers.

Eddie launches the door open, practically chasing you down to the kitchen. You stand under a vent, tilting your face directly towards the line of air.

“What do you need my help with?” He asks, a slight arrogance in his tone.

You don’t even look at him. You just hum as the cold air caresses your face. “The dishes. The laundry. Fuckin’ clean a toilet-”

“And what about guys not coming over?”

You finally tilt your head over at him, confused. “Huh?”

He looks at you with this fire in his eyes that you have almost never seen before. Maybe once or twice when one of his ex girlfriend’s said something based. He did not seem angry, per se, but he seemed agitated.

He crosses his arms over his chest, covering the Metallica logo on the front of his black tank top. His arms are toned and sprawling with randomly harsh lined tattoos. You had to thank Steve for the toned muscles as he was forcing Eddie to lift weights with him twice a week. You are definitely seeing the results.

“You said no guy wants to fuck a girl who lives with a shitty roommate,” He states plainly, leaning against the kitchen island, “How am I supposed to help you with that?”

It’s like he’s trying to hint at something. Eddie was notorious for not saying what he really wanted to say, just simply talking around the subject.

“Let me have a night off where I’m not cleaning up after you. Maybe I can bring a guy home.”

He cocks his head to the side, pursing his lips as his eyes take you in your sweaty clothing. You had sweat dripping into places you never knew you even had. You felt better being in the air conditioning, but that did not disguise the already stained areas of the front of your oversized t-shirt and biker shorts.

“You don’t need me to… do anything else?”

Will this be fifth time Eddie Munson pisses you off today?

“Say what you need to say, Munson,” You warn, annoyed by the creeping smile on his face.

You watch as he uncrosses his arms, leaning forward towards you. “Do you need me to fuck you, princess? Is that what this is?”

Your jaw hits the floor at his offer.

“What? H-how are you getting that from this-” “You just need a good fuck to release all this tension. It’s written all over you.”

He has never been this bold before. It’s blowing your mind. He has never propositioned sex to you, ever. Maybe jokingly. Wait, last week he did suggest it to get rid of your period cramps-

“You have to be kiddin’ me, Munson.”

He shakes his head, dipping his head down to meet your eyes, “I’m deadly serious, princess.”

“You’re just sayin’ this to piss me off even more-”

He presses his pointer finger to your lips, shushing you immediately, “All this talk and I’m not hearing a no.”

You swat his hand away, groaning in annoyance. You gave Eddie props, he was very convincing when he wanted to be. But you knew better.

But then again, it had been a year since a guy pleased you.

“Eddie, you know the promise we made all those years ago. No kissing. No sex,” You lean further away, your back arching over the counter. “You can’t just propose this because I am angry at you and want you to take some accountability.”

“I’m not proposing this because I wanna weasel my way out of trouble. I’m doing it because you have been so tense these last couple months, I feel like I am walking on eggshells,” He explains, tossing his hands in the air dramatically, “Just let me get it out of your system. I know it’s been a year or so.”

“How do you know?”

You were trying to find a way out. The deepest darkest secret you held in the very depths of your heart was that you did have feelings for Eddie. You have since high school. But Eddie was occupied in every place in life and you got the permanent label as friend before you even had a chance. He dated around and you were stuck secretly obsessing over him, which- whatever. It was fine.

All his passes at you were just normal at this point. You never gave them a second thought. You were idle in the idea that it was just jokes and that he never meant it. Even when he said he would give you head to make you feel better when the last guy you dated broke up with you. Or when he told you that he liked the way your hands felt pressed against his bare chest when you helped him apply sunscreen. Or when-

Wait... Did friends usually say that to each other?

“How do I know what?” He asks, his voice wavering a bit.

You huff, “How do you know it’s been a year?”

A mischievous smile spreads across his lips, “Because the last time I heard you through the wall moaning and begging, was about March of last year. It’s currently June.”

The heat rises back to your cheeks as you stare at him wide eyed. You did not realize he was even home when you last had someone over, let alone knew he heard it all.

“Eddie! You sick bastard! You listened?!”

You go to smack his chest but he snatches your hand away, the darkness in his eyes only hinting at his intentions.

“How can I not? You were so loud for that guy,” He almost looks jealous. Almost.

“I-“

“Just begging for him to let you cum. Did you, sweetheart? Did you cum for that slimeball?”

Your mouth opens slightly, realizing his hand is still wrapped around your wrist. No ease in the tension around it, just white-knuckling it.

“I don’t remember-“

“Those moans sounded too good to be true, princess. But what do I know,” He sits back against the counter again, pulling your body closer as he does, “You’ve never cum for me. Maybe you actually do sound like that.”

You really should not. You should just yank your arm away from him and mark this down as Eddie just being a perv again. But something inside you, the tension, the annoyance, the desire, is starting to burn a pit in your stomach.

“I can.”

He raises his eyebrows, pulling your wrist and hand up to his shoulder so you rest it there. You grip onto his bare shoulder, while his arm snakes around your waist.

“You can what?”

Your mouth goes dry, unsure if you can actually mutter the words. You usually had no filter with Eddie, but right now you felt like your voice completely cut out. He looks down at you, his head tilted in curiosity. “Say it, sweetheart. You can what?”

You grit your teeth, finally submitting.

“I could cum for you.”

He arrogantly smirks, his fingers sneaking up under your shirt, “Yeah, princess? You wanna cum for me?”

Coming from his lips, it’s like melted butter. It seems so natural, his voice dropping as he speaks such absurd things to you. You smack your lips together, almost like you are contemplating giving in. But your mind is already made up.

Before you can even give him a taste of his own medicine, your mind slips.

“If only you make me scream like those other girls.”

Fuck. Why did you say that?

His mouth only widens, shocked at the statement. “So you were listening to me, huh? You called me a sick bastard mere moments ago when you were doing the same thing!”

Your fingers pinch his earlobe, making him flinch a bit. “Eddie, you cannot help but be loud! Neither can they!”

Your defense is weak, but you try to sound convincing.

“Well they are screaming for a reason, sweetheart.”

You dismiss the comment for a minute, really trying to mull this idea over. Would this cost you his friendship? Was it all really worth it?

Your nails trail down and dig into his shoulder blade, warningly. “Do you seriously want to do this?”

He shrugs, casually, like this is the most normal conversation you two have ever had. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to get you in my bed for years. Seems like I just gotta get you all angry and hot for you to even think about it.”

The revelation deflates you a bit. You mentally slap yourself, thinking back to all the times Eddie has offered you ‘time’ with him in bed. You always took his passes as jokes, because that’s just Eddie. He’s never been serious a day in his life.

You press your body into him more, your nose getting closer to his, “You’ve wanted this for years?”

He nudges your nose with his, playfully, “Don’t act all surprised.”

The tension is at an all time high. The moment your eyes drop to his lips, you cannot peel them away from them. You have been close to him like this before, but never with explicit intentions. Maybe just to tease him or pester him. One time to inspect a possible bug that flew into his eye.

Eddie was your friend. Best friend.

Why was he looking different?

He notes the way you are silent, observing the way his lips curl upward into a toothless grin.

He shifts down, capturing your lips in a hesitant kiss, testing the waters. When the softness of his lips makes impact on your slightly dry lips, you feel self-conscious for a beat.

That was until you felt Eddie’s other hand sneak around your waist and pull you even closer. It’s the quiet reassurance you did not even know you needed.

You lean into it, practically falling into his chest completely. The kiss only progresses from there. Your hand cradles his neck as his hands sneak down from your waist to your ass. You had seen Eddie kiss before, but having it be done to you is a completely different experience. He’s hungry for it, but he’s also so tender and calculated with the movements.

The groping turns into him leveraging you upward onto the countertop. He slots himself between your legs, feeling up your thighs as his tongue slips past your lips. He’s good at stimulating you in every way, your body riddled with goosebumps. You cannot help the groans leaving your throat.

“God, you’re so hot,” He grumbles between kisses. You giggle into his mouth which makes him shake his head and pull away.

You hold his face close to yours, smiling up at his lust-blown eyes. “Never thought I’d hear you say that. Well… in this situation at least.”

“Can you just shush and let me make you feel good?” His lips trail down from your cheek peppering wet kisses to your neck, “Lemme make it up to you, sweetheart. Been a bad friend. Bad roommate.”

You roll your eyes for two reasons. One, he’s a dork. Two, his lips feel way too good on your throat.

“Make it up to me by being a good lover.”

He barks a laugh, almost too loud for the joke. “Oh, you want me to make love to you?”

“Can you just keep kissin’-”

His lips touch your collarbones and suddenly your body stiffens. You look down at his sinful expression, his lips dragging lower over your chest. His hand returns to the hem of your shirt, slowly tugging it over your head. Your ratty old sports bra was the least sexy thing you could be wearing, but Eddie eyes you like you are in lacey red lingerie with his name stitched into it. You take it upon yourself to peel the sweaty bra off, luckily the only scent you smell when you lift your arms is your antiperspirant.

“You are more perfect than I imagined,” Eddie mumbles, his hands reaching out to cup your boobs. His hands still adorned with his gaudy rings. Makes the sight even more breathtaking.

You roll your eyes, not believing him, “You’ve seen me in a bathing-”

His head dips down, catching your nipple in his mouth. The action silences you and instead of continuing your nervous babbling, you moan out his name. He rolls your pebbled nipple between his teeth while hissing in satisfaction. You can not stop yourself from raking your fingers through his curls.

He pulls away from your chest, pressing a quick kiss to your other tit, “I can’t do this if you continue to give me grief.”

The dig makes you blush. You were always awful when it came to dirty talk. Making it awkward was, unfortunately, your specialty. You nod sheepishly, untangling your fingers from his deep chocolate brown hair.

“I’ll shut up.”

He shakes his head, his lips finding the spot right below your ear. You can feel the smirk on his face, "No, don’t shut up. Just keep making those other pretty sounds for me, sweetheart.”

His thumbs hook around the elastic waistband of your shorts, tugging them down. You lift your hips, using his shoulders to balance yourself. You don’t expect him to have you completely naked on your kitchen counter, but the moment your underwear peel away from your cunt, you realize that the wetness between your legs is not just sweat.

He pulls away from your neck to look at your bare body before him and the groan he lets out makes your pussy clench around nothing. His hand skips down your body, eventually groping your hips.

“Eddie,” You hum, tilting his chin up so his eyes meet yours, “I’m very naked and you are not.”

He smiles wickedly, shaking his head, “‘Cause I ain’t fuckin’ you here, sweetheart. This is just a really good place for me to get on my knees and devour you.”

You swallow hard, watching him drop to one knee, making him eye level with your glistening cunt, “And look at how beautiful and wet she is for me. This all for me, sweet girl?”

“You’re not the only one who’s been wanting this for a while,” You admit, your eyes drooping to watch his mouth move across your inner thighs. You are a bit self-conscious, not having prepared your pussy for this kind of activity, but Eddie does not seem to mind. He admires you like a piece of art at a museum.

He flicks his tongue out of his mouth, unhurriedly moving up your slit. Once he has his first taste, that smile returns, “Mmm, there’s that confession I’ve been waiting for.”

Your mind draws a blank as he dives back in, pressing his tongue between your pussy lips. He has never looked so happy doing a task in his life, his beautifully straight teeth bared as his tongue swirls around your clit. His grip only tightens on your thighs ensuring you do not move them together. He needs you nice and wide open while he tongue fucks you.

He becomes more eager with his movements the moment you try to brace yourself on the edge of the counter. His fingers hook down into your flesh, dragging you to the edge of the surface. He does not miss a beat while he suckles on your clit, wrapping his plump pink lips around it and slurping it like a straw.

The knot in your stomach is tightening as you study his actions. Somehow it is like he knows your body better than you do.

The instant he sinks his pointer and middle finger into your soaked cunt, it is game over. Your body reacts before your mind does, vibrating against his mouth and fingers. He does not slow down when you clench around him, instead, he increases his speed and ministrations.

“Jesus, fuck, Eddie,” you whimper, surrendering to the climax. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting your mouth hang ajar as random moans escape you. Your nerve endings have never felt so electrified in your life.

Once you feel a slight come down, Eddie comes back up for air. His lips are shiny with his own saliva and whatever escaped you when you came.

You drop your head back, hitting the upper cabinet.

“You didn’t even have to beg for the first one,” He grunts, getting back to his feet. He locks his arm around your knees and drags your upper half into his other arm, “But the second one, you have to ask for permission, ‘kay?”

His lips are pressed to your temple, kissing you gingerly.

“You want me to beg, Eds?”

He chuckles darkly, carrying you princess-style across the house and to the living room. He could take you to bed, but he is not sure if that feels too intimate. You just want him inside you, not caring much where he decides to do it.

You bounce on the worn-down couch as he drops you down, your bare ass immediately sticking to the leather. His discards his tank top and practically jumps on top of you, his hips resting between your legs. You greedily tug at his basketball shorts, begging to reveal the length behind the tented fabric.

“Mmm, eager, are we?”

You had seen Eddie’s ass plenty of times. His shirtless frame. But never his dick. His tight pants left little to the imagination most times. But up close, pressed against your palm, you cannot help but gasp about how big he is.

He grabs your wrist firmly, his curls dropping down his shoulders as he shakes his head, “Wanna hear you beg.”

It spills right out of your desperate mouth. “Please, Eddie.”

“Please what?”

“Let me see your cock,” Your eyes reflecting faux innocence, “Please?”

He cannot help but giggle, assisting you in getting his shorts down his tattooed legs. You had been next to him for the big one on his right thigh, an ode to his favorite Metallica album. You did not completely understand the concept, but the black ink littering his body only added to his appeal.

His cock is even better than your mind had mocked up before. Long, slightly curved to the left, and not too thick that he may split you in half.

You truly cannot fathom the fact that this is happening. He is willingly showing you his dick and smiling at you while you gawk.

He is naked above you, and God is he breathtaking. The mop of curls, the broadness of his shoulders, his very slight tummy from all the beer he drinks, the works of art littering his pale skin.

Your eyes finally make their way back up to his, only to note the serious look he’s giving you.

“What?”

His lips twitch, “Just can’t believe I finally get to do this. And that it’s real and it’s not all in my head.”

Your heart stutters.

You lick your lips, searching every crevice of your mind for a response. He realizes that you are trying to muddle up a reply and that he has broken your brain temporarily. So instead of letting you counter his statement, he captures your lips in a bruising kiss.

He wastes no time after that, grabbing his dick and pushing it between your slick folds. You groan into his mouth, your pussy still very sensitive from the first orgasm he gave you. Your hand snakes around the back of his neck, holding his face close to yours.

“Eddie-“

He pushes into you before you can say anything else, a hiss whistling between his clenched teeth.

“God damn,” He throws his head back, shaking your hand away from his neck, “You’re fuckin’ tight, princess.”

The moan that leaves your throat is a whole octave lower than your actual voice. Eddie looks down at you, the widest smile painted across his face. You feel his hips inch closer and closer to you and you realize he is not fully inside you yet.

You take a breath, trying to relax your muscles, “Please, please, please.”

He snaps his hips forward, a dark guttural chuckle taunting you. “There she is. Beggin’.”

Eddie had changed into a completely different person. Sure, he was always picking on you, but this was a stark contrast from your silly best friend. The man above you, slowly rocking his hips inside you, was feral. His confidence only burning brighter the more you whimper for him.

“Please, faster.”

The wet squelching noise that emits between your bodies is borderline embarrassing. You had never heard such a sound with any other man. Eddie loves it, though. The idea that you were just gushing for him is enough to send him into overdrive.

“Yeah? You want me to go faster,” He pushes your thighs apart, spreading you wider. He wants to look at how beautiful your pussy looks stuffed full of him. “Look at that.”

You shift yourself up on your elbows, looking down at the sight he cannot peel his eyes away from. “Jesus, I cannot believe…”

You drift off, watching Eddie slowly retreat back only to sharply snap forward. Your jaw goes slack as he drives himself into you, disappearing over and over again.

Eddie‘s eyes are now on you, watching your tits jiggle every time his cock pierces your squishy walls.

“You really needed this, huh, princess?”

You watch as he reaches down between your bodies, swiping your clit with his thumb.

Your eyes roll back, unable to hold yourself together, “I really did, oh my god.”

Your legs stiffen and Eddie’s hands loosen up, letting you squirm and adjust yourself. Your hips burn and your mind is mush. Eddie’s erratic movements against your swollen bud and his rapidly moving hips are overstimulating, you cannot help but lock your legs around him.

“Yeah, I can fucking feel you clenching around me,” He babbles, licking his lips, “You just take my cock so well, don’t you? Just fuckin’ made for me.”

He does not stop talking as you grunt your response. You have never seen the man so driven to get something done in your life. He wants to cum, but he wants to feel you fall apart on him even more. His words are just pouring out of him.

“Yeah? You want me to make you mine, huh? Gonna make this pussy somethin’ only I can have.“

Your eyes fly open in shock, his words ringing in your ears. You feel his dick twitch inside you, hitting the same perfect spot over and over again. “Please, please.”

“Fuck, say it, baby. Say that you’re mine.”

He is so desperate, his usual calm, cool, collected voice faltering.

“I’m yours, Eddie.”

His thumb presses hard down on your clit, causing your hips to shift upward. The nerve endings that were ablaze before are now imploding.

The vibration of your body catches him off guard at first, so he locks his hands on your hips. You lurch your body into a crescent shape as he continues to chase his high. A final scream rips through your body, chanting his name.

Every snap forward was another word slipping from his practically drooling mouth. He fucked his cum deep inside you, his words bouncing off the walls.

“Yes.” “The.” “Fuck.” “You.” “Are.”

Your body goes completely limp under him the moment your high dissipates. He is panting like he just ran 10 miles as he slowly drifts to his side, positioning his nude body between your body and the back couch cushions. When his cock leaves your cunt, he dribbles cum over your mound and lower tummy. You glance down at your body, completely blissed out.

You have never felt more appreciated in your life.

He lays his head right on your shoulder, fanning your sweaty body with his warm breath. He does not say anything, just settles next you, throwing his arm over your midsection.

You swallow, trying to regain your composure. You thought after doing something like this with Eddie, you would feel some guilt. Regret, maybe. But none of those emotions spring up.

You felt relaxed and at peace. Like you walked off the edge of a cliff and instead of landing on a rocky bottom, you landed on a sea of fluffy pillows. It was a relief.

Your eyes fall onto his lazily smirking face, “I did really need that.”

He hums his response at first, before clearing his throat. “Yeah, I could tell. I can read you pretty well, huh?”

That’s the understatement of the century. He can read you perfectly.

You start to reflect on every word that spilled from his lips during the entire interaction, and suddenly your stomach is in knots. You start to wonder if he really did feel those things, or if he was just lost in the moment. You almost don’t ask in fear that he will tell you something you didn’t want to hear.

“Did you mean everything you said,” You press, your hand absentmindedly tucking some of his hair behind of his ear. His fingers dance across your flesh, eventually swirling around your collarbones.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

He says it so simply. You wanted to believe it was that easy, but there is logistical things that needed to be discussed. Feelings and thoughts that needed further explanation.

Eddie can see that your mind is racing. Your expression gives you away every time. His mouth slowly opens to further elaborate on his response, but before he can get out a word, there’s a pounding at your front door.

It is so sudden and loud, you both sit up from the couch.

“Mr. Munson! You left your hose on! There’s a drought-”

You tune out the rest of the rant from your elderly neighbor because Eddie starts chuckling and rubbing his eyes. He looks down at you as the rant starts to get louder, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips before grabbing his boxers off the floor.

“You stay there, beautiful. I’ll deal with this.”

You do as he says, the bliss he left you in after the kiss enough to hold you over until he comes crawling back on top of you. He stumbles back into his boxers, going to the front door and cracking it so he can get eyes on your neighbor.

“Yeah, my fault, Mr. O’Connell. Had to comfort my lady because she cut herself on the shovel. I’ll be right out to shut off that hose and save the rainforest or whatever.”

You hear a scoff from behind the door, the older gentleman taken off guard. “Oh, so she’s your lady now?”

You can hear the smile that spreads across his face. “Always has been, sir.”

#eddie munson you menace #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson au #stranger things fanfiction #eddie x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson one shot #stranger things #roommate eddie munson #gracieheartspedro #fic: you really got me now

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ovaryacted · 6 days ago

Text

GREEDY

─ Dr. Jack Abbot x fem! reader || WC: 3k

SYNOPSIS: You crave to feel your lover differently, and Jack is happy to satisfy your needs.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUT. Age gap implied [Jack is late 40s, reader is late 20s/early 30s]. Power imbalance mention [Attending/Resident]. Established "secret" relationship. Creampie. Unprotected sex (p in v). Mentions of oral (f! receiving) & fingering. Multiple orgasms. Overstimulation. Dirty talk. Brief mentions of birth control & safe sex practices. They fuck nasty and are down bad for each other. Reader is described to have hair. Jack Abbot is a really good partner. Brief mentions of Jack’s scars & allusions to a vasectomy he had in the past.

A/N: This all came to me in a dream lmao. I just had a certain itch I needed to scratch and I wanted to talk about getting creampied by a fine ass old man, so this was the product of that thought. I hope you all enjoy this and join me in feening for this man. Proofread by moi. Reblogs, comments, and likes are always greatly appreciated! <3

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

You’d never really consider yourself a greedy or selfish person, but when it came to Jack Abbot, you just couldn’t help yourself.

On your first day of residency at the Pitt, your attention instantly gravitated to him. He carried himself so confidently at times, never crossing the line of stepping into arrogance like some of the surgeons he complained about. He kept his head high, back straight, and shoulders flared as he maneuvered around patients and rooms alike, commanding every space with a calm confidence you almost envied.

Coffee and light teasing exchanged in the emergency department turned into cold beers and tipsy laughter at the local bar everyone frequented after long shifts or on their off-days. One drink too many resulted in a not-so-accidental one-night stand with the enigma of a man that was Dr. Abbot. You wondered if he regretted it by the time you woke up in the morning, hair a mess over your head, going in different directions; doing your best to bury the disappointment tugging at your chest when the other side of the bed was found empty.

Much to your surprise, light clanking from your kitchen forced you back on your feet, spotting Jack working over the stove, the smell of eggs and fresh toast wafting through your apartment. His jeans hung low on his hips, unbuttoned, with his black briefs hiding the rest of him. He turns when he senses your presence, the corner of his lips tugging upwards in a small grin at the sight of you, slightly disheveled and wearing nothing but his shirt from the night before.

“Morning. Stole some of your coffee; hope you don’t mind.”

You were doomed from the start.

It never stopped after that; a one-night stand turned into several over the course of one month, and one month turned into two. You found yourself in the consistent presence of Dr. Abbot, who was always there to satisfy your needs, whatever they may be. He learned how to read you, your likes and dislikes, your quirks, and the things that made you happy and tick in agitation. The few weeks you spent with him in secret amounted to the moment Jack popped the question of exclusivity one night, and you were more than happy to say yes.

Now here you were, Dr. Abbot’s favorite night-shift resident at work and his girl when you two were alone. You already had him wrapped around your finger, hitting close to five months of being with him and selfishly enjoying his company in this bubble you’ve created for yourselves away from prying eyes.

And yet you still wanted more.

You couldn’t quite explain what happened along the way, why you simply couldn’t stop finding any little moment to touch him, to kiss him, to taste him. You just knew you wanted every part of him to yourself, and he was ready to give it.

All but one.

Your sex life with Jack was already more than satisfactory, and even using a word as simple as that was a disservice in describing your experiences with him. Hell, you’re pretty sure he’s ruined you for anyone else, and you don’t plan on finding another to take his place any time soon. But there was this one pesky thing that still kept you separated from him.

The damn rubber.

Jack was almost too good for you—a softie despite his take-no-shit attitude, always sweet and considerate when it came to you. Of course, that translated to when he fucked you, prioritizing your safety and pleasure above all else, including maintaining recommended sexual habits. You can’t blame him; he’s not an idiot, and neither are you, but at times it irks you to still have something getting in the way of feeling him the way you wanted.

It almost pissed you off how badly you craved him, desperately holding on to him and pulling him closer when he was too busy fucking you into the mattress. His face dug into the crook of your neck, grunting as your walls fluttered around his length, your arousal covering the thin non-latex material that separated your bodies. Just the thought of it made you whine, clawing at his shoulders and wrapping your legs tighter around his waist.

You knew he was getting close from the way his breathing rumbled deep within his chest, his grip on your hips tightening as his thrusts picked up in force. The words that had been swirling in your head for the past 30 minutes slipped out of your mouth and into his ear before you could stop them.

“Fill me up, baby.”

He groans when he hears you, slamming his hips hard against yours, a curse tumbling from his mouth as he fills up the condom. He draws a final sigh from you before pulling out to dispose of the wretched thing while you remain occupied with taking a peek at his ass as he heads to the bathroom.

Having sex without protection was something Jack didn’t think to bring up or mention. The last thing he wanted was to make you assume all you were to him was a toy to be used when it's convenient and discarded when he grew bored of you. He already had the displeasure of approaching sex that way when he was younger and reckless; he vowed to never do that again, especially with you. And of course, you didn’t want to potentially ruin the relationship you’ve worked so hard to build with your attending.

As much as he wanted to deny it, your words tormented him, playing in his mind on loop so frequently he started dreaming about feeling you with no barriers, claiming you properly. He knows once you hit that stage in your fairly new relationship, there’s no going back. From the way you struggled to hide the slightest tinge of disappointment whenever he ripped open the foil wrapper in front of you, he knew the conversation would happen eventually.

“What if next time, we just don’t use anything? Protection, I mean.” You blurt out to him in the kitchen, wringing your hands together as Jack busied himself washing the dishes after dinner. He finished up and dried his hands, pivoting to face where you leaned against the island.

“Is that what you want?” He asks carefully, his eyes boring into yours gently, the way he always did when speaking to those he cared about. “Surprises aren’t exactly what I’m worried about; we’re good on that end, but, it’s whatever you want to do, sweetheart.”

“Yes, I want to try it out.” You feel his hands coming towards your waist, a comforting gap of space between as you mess with the collar of his t-shirt. “It’s not that our sex life isn’t fun or anything; I very much enjoy sleeping with you.”

“I sure hope so considering how much I risk pulling my back doing all the work.” You playfully slap his chest, rolling your eyes at his teasing smirk.

“I just…I want to feel you, all of you. It’s like an itch I can’t scratch sort of thing, and it feels stupid explaining it, but it’s a thing, okay. Don’t fucking laugh at me.”

Jack couldn’t help but chuckle dryly at your mild panic, shaking his head as he stepped closer to you, planting a kiss on your cheek and squeezing your hips in reassurance.

“Not laughing at you, I just think it’s cute how flustered you’re getting when you’re begging me to fuck you raw.”

“Now why are you saying it like that? It sounds raunchy coming from you.” He only laughs harder.

“I think we’re way past the point of calling what we do raunchy in our relationship, don’t you think?” There’s a faint glint in his hazel eyes when he takes in your features again, his fingers pinch your chin, holding your gaze. “Besides, you aren’t the only one who’s been thinking about it. I was just waiting for you to crack first.”

That’s how you found yourself in this position now.

Your cunt pulsed from the lavish attention bestowed by the older man above, who already made you cum once using his mouth and again in combination with his thick fingers. Even with the two orgasms you gladly took, your body clenched around nothing as you watched Jack lazily jerk himself off, dark eyes raking over your bare body. By now, he’d be tearing open another one of those flimsy foil packets and slipping inside you. Instead, your legs subconsciously widened even more, beckoning him closer to you in an attempt to take you.

Notching the tip of his length at your entrance, he groaned at the feel of you, shifting his hips to grind against your heat as more of your wetness coated the underside of his cock.

“Last chance to take it back, sweetheart.” He quirked, meeting your hazy eyes—glossed over and feral as you admired his broad silhouette and tempting movements.

“Shut up and fuck me already.” You only seemed to be thinking with your downstairs brain, your thirst for more overriding common sense, not that he was complaining.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He angled himself over you, keeping his observant eyes on your face as he started pushing into you, slowly sinking deeper into your welcoming body. Jack didn’t expect you to feel so damn hot, your walls surrounding his cock like a vice, like you were made for it. Your hands flew to grasp his bicep, gasping at the bare feel of him for the first time. Eyes fluttering closed, a whimper lurched out of your mouth when he was down to the hilt, the trimmed hairs by his pubic bone rubbing against your sensitive nub, causing you to twitch around him on instinct.

As he sat inside you and let you adjust to him, you could feel everything—every ridge, every vein, every swell and throb his body gave you, even his damn pulse. It was bringing you closer to the deep end.

“Jack…” You mumbled his name, blinking slowly as his nostrils flared.

“Hold on, hold on, don’t move.” Large hands clutched your hips, keeping you pinned to the mattress with his strength. “You feel so good.”

“Yeah?” The compliment took the rest of the empty space in your head, your thighs taking their rightful place around his waist, knees bracketing over his sharp hips.

“So damn warm and wet…God.” It sounded like Jack wasn’t talking to you anymore but reiterating his own innermost thoughts, filter gone. His attention trailed down to where your bodies were joined together, shifting his hips back to watch your lower set of lips part for him, your slick covering his skin. You moved towards him, already missing the stretch of him inside you, and Jack was just as eager to give you what you needed.

“Look at her. Taking me so well, like she always does.” Thrusting forward, he didn’t spare you an inch, drawing back just to pound into you again and again.

The friction of his hips intensifies the more he gets to feel you, and soon enough the four walls of your shared bedroom are filled with the audible slapping of skin as you lose yourselves in each other. Jack’s hips pummeled into you with a force you weren’t completely unfamiliar with, but this carnal need to have more of him creeps onto the surface. Your nails raked down his freckled arms and the planes of his shoulders, encouraging Jack to buck into you harder with your sweet cries.

It all felt too fucking good, like a dream.

You didn’t want him to stop, your legs winding tighter around his torso, mewling when he hit that textured spot tucked inside you with practiced accuracy, head thrown back against the pillow as you focused on catching each one of his harsh lunges. A hand sneaked to the back of your head, grasping the nape of your neck and angling your face to look up at Jack, the smallest bit of sweat lining up on his forehead.

“Keep those eyes on me, baby. Want to see your pretty face when you come for me.” He practically snarled over you, leaning down to roughly plant a kiss, his tongue swirling around yours, swallowing all of the petulant sounds he brought out of you. “Perfect fucking pussy, and all mine.”

“All yours, Jack.” You parroted, nodding dumbly from the impact of his movements against you. “I’m all yours, sir.”

His grin turned predatory at your needy words, both hands curling around your thighs to angle them higher up, your knees now pinned to your chest, allowing him to dig just a bit deeper into you. You jolted from the change in position, one hand rushing to press against his lower stomach, fingertips skimming the raised scars along his side, long faded and meshed with the rest of him.

He was unfazed by your movements, holding you steady, and upped his efforts against you. Your arousal practically seeped out of you, pooling at the base of him and dripping down his balls. Another whimper echoed in the room, your clouded gaze glanced down to watch Jack fuck you, mesmerized at the shine you left over him. You didn’t need to warn him that another release was swirling in your gut; your body language did all the talking for you.

“Know you’re close, honey. Can feel you getting tighter around me, damn near choking me.” He grunts, adding a swivel to his precise advances into you. “C’mon, need you to drench me. Let me feel you.”

Three more drives into you, and your third orgasm hit you so ardently your whole body trembled, a silent cry flying out of your mouth. Jack observed your reaction with hungry eyes, cooing at your cock-drunk expression, drool starting to spill out the corner of your lip.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he hit his peak, the tension in his body building in his core, and with the way you haven’t stopped convulsing around him, it will catch him off guard sooner than later. Through the haze of ecstasy, you found your voice and mumbled at him, the lust-filled mania that started this whole ordeal possessing you.

“Jack,” his attention was drawn to your face, plump lips and warm cheeks mirroring his ravenous stare, “I need you to come inside me.”

“You want it that bad, huh?” He was struggling to keep it together, his mind already hyper-focused on finishing inside until you took every damn drop. “So desperate to have your old man fill up your greedy pussy, hm?”

“Yes! Yes!” Tears streaked down your face at the mere thought of getting to feel him like this; the promise of getting what you wanted after so long was enough to overwhelm you. “Please, Jack. I need it; need to feel it. Want to feel you tomorrow, baby.”

That fired him up; the sight of your watery eyes motivated him to flex his forearms and force you to take all of him as he chased his prolonged release. A few more jabs and he was done for, digging his face into the crook of your neck and biting your shoulder to suppress the loud growl that buzzed through him. His hips were flush with yours, giving you everything he had to give, his thighs trembling and stomach almost cramping from his violent climax.

His orgasm felt never-ending; he just couldn’t stop, your body melting from the inside out as you held him above you until he plopped on top of you, pelvis subconsciously grinding into you more, never wanting to leave your warmth.

“Jesus.” You heard Jack murmur against you, placing light kisses over the indents of his teeth on your shoulder. His mouth followed a path up to the column of your throat, your jaw, and to your lips, offering you sweet pecks. “You alright?”

“Mhm,” you hummed at his affections, the rest of your limbs becoming one with the mattress under you. “Didn’t break me yet, though I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

“Means I did my job well.” Both ends of his mouth curl upwards, mimicking his expression as he gently wipes your tears away.

Carefully, he took hold of your legs, bringing them back down to the bed, rubbing them with an apologetic smile as you quivered. With ease, Jack maneuvers himself to pull out of you, his eyes going to your pussy and the mess he made of you. He catches the way his spend drips out of your opening and stains the sheets below you, a sight he was committing to memory for the first time.

A carnal urge flares within him, his curiosity getting the best of him as he brings a hand to the most sensitive part of you, his thumb spreading you out to get a better look at you. More of his seed dribbled out of you, tainting the thick digit as he smeared more of himself over the rest of your cunt. You gasped at the sensation, his thumb circling over your slick pearl, squirming under his touch from the overstimulation.

“I get the appeal now,” he says to himself again, swiftly bringing two of his fingers to scoop the rest of him and sink them back into your hole, serving as a plug to keep his release inside you. You keened at him, clutching his thick wrist as he breached your body with his hand, your breath hitching in your throat.

“Jack…”

“So pretty when you’re so full of me.” You clench around him, the sensation sending a current of pleasure coursing through him, his cock twitching again at the thought of having you again. “You can take a little more, right?”

Who were you to say no to that? You couldn’t get enough of him, and when it came to Jack Abbot, you always made room for seconds and more.

©️ ovaryacted 2025. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

#jack abbot smut #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot x you #dr jack abbot x reader #jack abbot imagine #dr abbot x reader #dr abbot #the pitt #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt x reader #the pitt hbo #the pitt 2025 #shawn hatosy #ovaryacted fics #⋆♱ nic works ♱⋆

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whre4wanda · 18 days ago

Text

Mine

*Mature content*

Biting, marking, strap-on, mommy kink, choking, oral, praising kink, Wanda being jealous.

Summary- you accompany your mother to the country club house, only to meet an interesting woman.

I don't really have a clue about tennis so bare with me here.

(y/m/n) - your mother's name

Milf Wanda is amazing! And thank you for so much positive feedback on my previous fic!

Your pov:

"Mom do I really have to go with you?" You ask, voice filled with annoyance as you follow the woman up the stairs.

"Yes you do. Now go pack your bags. I don't want to hear another word of this. We are going and that is final." You let out a defeated sigh, and walked up to your room. Your mother insisted, well more like forced you to accompany her to the country club to play some tennis because apparently you had been inside the house far too long this summer.

You were a good tennis player, that's for sure but being around so many snobbish, older people just wasn't how you wanted to spend your day. Especially with your mother's nagging voice ringing in your ear, constantly murmuring how you weren't playing perfectly. Nonetheless you began to get ready because you weren't in the mood for another scolding from the older woman. You put on your clothes, a pair of shoes, picked some essentials before placing them in your gym bag, and lastly, you grabbed your racket and a few tennis balls.

"Alright, let's go!" Your mom yelled from downstairs and you groaned. You rushed downstairs before grabbing your water bottle then walking towards the car.

"Trust me kid, I'd rather be at work than go to that country club." Your dad murmured softly from behind you and you only chuckled.

You stepped out of the car before your mom walked behind you, a grumble of annoyance escaping her lips.

"I told you, no short skirts, are you trying to show your ass to everyone? Christ what will people think?!" You rolled your eyes but you had a sly smirk painted across your face. Perhaps you'd find someone interesting here.

Your family walked into the Westview Country club, being stopped by a couple of your mother's closest friends. Your dad had already wandered off to the buffet and you were left awkwardly standing in the center of the large room.

You sighed, annoyance already bubbling up deep within you. You decided to make your way outside to the courts instead of just standing alone in the room. You were bored and beyond frustrated that your mother had pulled you away from the comfort of your room and forced you to come here. You walked past a few people you knew, smiling at those who even offered a glance your way. The rest of them just passed you without a word or just gave you a scowl. Well isn't everyone in this place just a ray of sunshine.

Minutes later and you were starting to get pissed. Your mother was nowhere to be found and your dad was surrounded by a bunch of other men talking about sports or the young girls they had been sleeping around with. Ew.

As you made your way to an empty court, you got hit by a tennis ball on your head.

"Ouch! What the fuck man?" You grabbed the ball before turning around, ready to scold whoever had hit you with the ball. You knew it wasn't intentional but you just wanted to let your frustrations out.

"Oh, I'm so sorry sweetheart, a friend and I were playing and turns out my aim wasn't right." A blonde woman apologized with a sincere smile on her face. You weren't even paying attention to her apology because you were so mesmerized by her features. This woman was sculpted by aphrodite herself. The woman had short blonde hair, gorgeous green eyes, plump pink lips, manicured finger nails that could probably ruin you...

"Oh um no it's okay." You cleared your throat in embarrassment before letting a chuckle fall past your lips. The blonde just smiled at you before she tilted her head.

"Do I know you? You just look so familiar?" She asked, now placing her racket in her other hand.

"Oh no. I don't think so. My mother is actually the one who comes here often and-"

"Y/n, there you are." Your mom came in, interrupting the conversation you were having with this mysterious woman.

"Oh. I see you've met Wanda Maximoff." Your mom murmured and it was then that you remembered the infamous woman your mother did not like. At all.

Wanda, on the other hand now realized why you looked so familiar. You practically had your mother's face if it wasn't for the difference in eye color and well because you were younger.

Back to you, you still wondered how your mother could hate such a beautiful woman. Then again, your mother hated everyone. Your eyes ran over the woman's features before they landed on those gorgeous green eyes that were looking right at you before they turned to your mother.

"Hello y/m/n." Wanda said, her voice sounding as equally pissed as your mom's. The blonde woman averted her eyes to you, smiling at you before your mom began talking.

"We should catch up! Have some tea some time." Your mom said and you fought the urge to scoff.

"Of course, that would be great, I really should get back to my game though." The blonde spoke and you were a little upset that you wouldn't have time to talk to her anymore.

"Well y/n here is a great player herself. Maybe she can play against you." You turned to your mom with a scowl plastered on your face. Of course your mom would do this. Yes, you wanted to talk to the blonde but you didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of her.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind that at all."She smiled and winked at you. You blushed a little before your mother nudged you to walk over to the court she was playing at.

You and Wanda began walking in an awkward filled silence until the blonde woman spoke up.

"Your mother. Very interesting woman isn't she? " She said and you laughed a little.

"Yeah, one could say that. But I'd like to think we're different."

"How so?" She asked and you just shrugged.

"I don't know, I just guess we're not the same." Wanda nodded and watched as you walked in front of her, your skirt riding up from your movements.

"Sorry Agnes, do you mind if I play with someone else right now?" Wanda asked and the woman named Agnes just agreed before walking off the courts.

"No problem hun, I should catch up with Ralph and make sure he isn't up to anything stupid." She joked before turning to you.

"Hiya hot stuff, what's your name?"

"Y/n." You said with a shy smile and Agnes chuckled.

"Well aren't you a cutie. Anyways you two enjoy your game. And take it easy on her Wanda." Agnes said with a pointed look making her friend roll her eyes.

"I should warn you, I'm not the best player." You said with a shrug of your shoulders which made the blonde woman smile.

"Neither am I sweetheart, but we'll see what happens yeah?" Wanda said as she bent down to pick a ball up.

You watched as she bent down. You fought the urge to stare at her ass but it wasn't that easy. Wanda could feel your eyes on her and when she stood up she had the biggest smirk on her face.

"See something you like?" She teased and you felt your cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

"Uhm I'm sorry." She only laughed before walking over to place her bottled water down.

You walked over to place your phone and water bottle on the side before making your way to your side of the court. And just like that, you and Wanda began your game of tennis.

"Well, you're quite the excellent player yourself Ms y/l/n"

"You're not too bad too Mrs Maximoff."

"Oh honey, please call me Wanda. Mrs Maximoff makes me feel old." She says with a small laugh and you nod your head.

"Alright Wanda." The name slips off your tongue in a way that has Wanda holding onto her racket for her dear life. You were so sweet and adorable to her, something about you intrigued her. She'd never felt this way before. Never with her past relationships and surely never with Vision. And the smile you sent her afterwards, was enough to make her feel like she was young again. Something about you drew her in and she wanted to explore it more.

You could practically feel the tension between the two of you, her eyes scanning your face and her lips parted but of course your mother just had to walk in and ruin the moment.

"Who won?" She asked and you turned to Wanda.

"Uh we weren't really keeping track." You said while shrugging and you could see your mom fighting back a scoff.

"But it was fun." you commented and Wanda sent you a wink.

"Well it was nice to see you Wanda, but we should get going."

Your mom pulled you away before you even got the chance to say goodbye to Wanda.

After that day, you found yourself visiting the country club more often just to see a particular blonde woman. You often went with your parents or sometimes even alone.

Wanda caught onto your little act and she loved every second of it. She loved the days when you'd decide to come alone. That way, she could be more flirtatious with you not that she stopped even when your parents were around, she just did it skillfully.

"I see you've come alone. Is it perhaps to see me once again?" She asks with a small smile playing on her lips.

"Well Wanda as much as I do enjoy seeing you, who says a girl can't come here to play some tennis?" You teased with a wiggle of your brow and she chuckled.

"Fair enough, but enough of that, join me for a drink?" She asks with a hopeful smile and who were you to deny some time with the blonde woman.

So with a nod of your head, you followed the woman to the bar area. You sat down with Wanda next to you, and she called over the bartender to order a drink. You spent the afternoon talking to Wanda, and it was absolutely amazing. It seemed as though the alcohol she drank made her more bold with her touches and glances, and even her words were much more sultry and suggestive than before. And you won't lie, you did enjoy the slightest bit of attention that you got from the older woman.

"Can I ask a qiestion?"

"Well you're already asking me one aren't you detka?" She teases and you laugh lightly.

"Go ahead."

"Are you married?" Wanda is taken aback by your question and you are immediately overcome with a dreadful feeling.

"Oh god I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just wondered why you were reffered to as Mrs since, well I haven't really seen you wear a ring."

Wanda shakes her head with a small chuckle that eases your nevers just a bit.

"That's alright malysh, I'm not mad. I was married but unfortunately we didn't work out." She pauses for a moment, her finger tracing the outline of the glass like she was contemplating whether to continue talking or not.

"I understand, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"You're precious." She remarks again, giving you a wink that sends butterflies down to your stomach.

"He wasn't faithful. After I had my twins, he sort of just distanced himself. I thought I was overthinking it but I guess I was right when he'd barely come home at night or whenever he did, he'd smell like another woman's perfume." A dry chuckle escaped her lips and your heart clenches.

"I'm sorry about that." You say, reaching for her hand and rubbing it. She gives you a small smile before clearing her throat.

"That's all in the past malysh. I guess the name still sticks to this day."

"You have twins?" You ask with a smile and she nods her head.

"Hm hm. My two boys, Billie and Tommy."

"That's amazing." You say with a genuine smile and Wanda gives you one of her wide smiles.

"You're in to her aren't you Wanda?" Her friend asked as they sat on the pool chairs, watching the twins have fun inside the pool.

"Of course not Agnes, that's insane. I just have an admiration for her. That's it."

"Oh what a bunch of bull-" Wanda gives Agnes a warning look that silences the brunette from finishing her cuss word.

"It's harmless fun Agnes. It really isn't anything." Wanda explains to her friend who doesn't believe a single word she says. Agnes scoffs but says nothing more, instead she picks up her drink and takes a sip of it while watching Wanda with a unamused expression.

Wanda had asked you to help her with a few things at her home. And being the polite girl who had grown a crush on the woman, well you agreed. Which is how you found yourself next to the woman, helping her with her sink.

"Do you really know what you're doing there y/n?" She asked, gaze shamefully sweeping down your frame.

"Your lack in faith for me is quite undermining Wanda." You joke as you finished up. Wanda bit her lip, heat spreading down her spine as she watches you fix her sink.

"There. Done." You remarked as you stood up. You opened the faucet, smiling to yourself once the water begins to run.

"Problem solved."

"Thank you y/n you're a life saver." She murmurs and you shoot her a smile.

"How much can I pay you?"She asked as she pulled her wallet out.

"Oh no, please it's not necessary."

"Nonsense y/n, let me at least give you something." She pulls out money, handing it to you but you push her hand back gently.

"I'm serious, it's okay Wanda." With the way you were looking at the woman, she could only breath out before darting her tongue to the corner of her mouth. The small action catches your attention almost immediately and the tension in the kitchen rises, the both of you being aware of it.

"Is there maybe another way I could pay you?" She asks in a husky tone that has your stomach flipping and before you know it, her lips are pressed against yours.

You're taken slightly aback with the kiss and the ferocity of it but you kissed her back with the same level passion. Wanda pushed you against the kitchens counter, her arms moving up to wrap around your neck as yours find their place around her waist. The two of you battle for dominance but you manage to overpower her and you bite her tongue which has her eliciting a whine. Wanda pulls away from the heated kiss, her cheeks coated in a red tint breath still ragged from the kiss the two of you just shared.

The both of you don't say anything to one another for a while and once Wanda starts speaking, you can't seem to pay attention because all you were thinking about was what was under the clothes she had on. When Wanda realizes that you weren't paying attention to what she was saying, because your dilated pupils were focused on her cleavage instead, she could not help the flutter of butterflies that erupted inside her stomach. The idea of someone wanting her after so long has her feeling different, almost as if she was finally being seen.

And when you see Wanda begin to unbottun her shirt, your eyes are fixated on her movements before they trail up to her face that has a smirk planted on it.

"Are you sure there isn't another way I can pay you y/n? I think you'd like this payemnet very much." Her tone was so sultry and fuck did it make you wet. All you could do was clear your throat, your mouth running dry as she slips her blouse off. Your hands twitch in response, the urge to reach out and touch her smooth skin so strong.

"You can touch if you'd like." She teases and you reach out to pull her in for a searing kiss. Wanda can't help the moan that escapes her lips as you reach over to touch her covered breasts. She hums in pleasure as your fingers trail to her shoulders, to pull the straps of her bra down. Wanda's eyes are dilated, her breathing has escalated and she now stares at you with a pleading look.

"Y/n... Touch me."

Another sunny day and Wanda was sitting outside on the pool chairs with her friend next to her. She watched as her boys played in the swimming pool, a water gun in Tommy's hand while Billy held a ball. Agnes, ever the talkative one between the two of them, continued to rant about her husband. Something about his mother coming into town and Agnes wanting nothing more than to run away. But Wanda couldn't pay attention to her.

Not when her thoughts were consumed by you and you only.

"Y/n and I are having sex." She said quietly but loud enough for Agnes to hear.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said."

"Could you perhaps elaborate."

"What is there to elaborate, her and I are..."

"Fucking?"

"Not so loud." Wanda slaps her friend on the shoulder, her eyes scanning at the children before they're back on Agnes.

"But yes."

"How did this begin and... When?"

"It just... Happened."

You kissed Wanda again and again until you had no air to breathe. The older woman was now sprawled on her bed, her chest heaving with anticipation as you slowly slid her panties off. Wanda licked her lips in anticipation, her heart racing as she waited for your first move. And when you finally latched your tongue onto her bundle of nerves, her head was thrown back in pleasure.

"Oh.... Fuck!" The tatse of her sweet nectar had you humming in satisfaction before you greedily began to feast on the blonde woman's pussy.

Wanda's hands were locked in your hair, pulling the coils as her thighs wrapped around your head.

"god y/n just like that!"

"You tatse so amazing Wanda."

"Well it happened the day she helped me fix my sink."

"And when you say 'having sex' you mean that you two are still..."

"Yes."

Another day at the tennis club and instead of doing the actual sport, you were currently doing Wanda in the country clubs bathroom. With the older woman propped onto one of the sinks in one of the country clubs' luxurious bathroom, you had been eagerly eating her out for a long while. Wanda bit her lip in attempt to suppress her moans but with your skilled tongue swiping through her folds and collecting her wetness as if her slick was keeping you alive, and maybe it was.

"Y/n, please S-stop..." She whimpered as you brought her to her third orgasm in that bathroom. You hummed but when you you tried to move an inch away from the woman's pussy, her hand was grabbing your head, pushing you towards her pussy once again.

"You want me to move or stay?" You teased as a finger collected her slick before bringing it up to her face as proof of how wet she was.

"I don't think you want me to stop because your pussy sings otherwise Wanda." The woman groans and the smirk on your face grows before you slip your fingers inside her again.

"Well this is something I didn't expect." Agnes mumbles while downing the last of her drink.

"How is she?"

"She's... indescribable."

"Better than Vision?" The brunette woman asks with a teasing smile that has Wanda scoffing.

"What he did, y/n could probably do in her sleep."

"Well my dear, I just advice you to be careful Wanda. You know how people feel about well you know homosexuality. Besides her mother is a devil so the territory you're playing on is quite dangerous."

Wanda hums in agreement. She knew that Agnes was right but that didn't mean that she would even think about ending whatever it is that you two had. Not when she was having so much fun.

Sunday services weren't really your favorite thing to attend. That was until you met Wanda. Now it was somewhat tolerable. It's not that you didn't like the word but the environment around you was toxic. You could do without the remarks about homosexuality or the snark comments that were thrown your way at times, that's what you hated the most.

But there you sat, a few rows behind the older woman. Wanda looked as dashing as ever. With her blonde hair styled perfectly, a blue dress adoring her gorgeous figure to which she topped off with a diamond necklace. And right next to her, were her two children, who were dressed in suits. You could tell that it had been a hassle to get both Billy and Tommy into those suits since Tommy could not stop tugging at his tie whenever his mother wasn't looking at him. But nevertheless, they all looked like the perfect family.

"Y/n?" A somewhat familiar voice called your name from behind and you turned to see Sam, a girl who you had once shared intimacy with in the past.

"Sam? What are you doing here?"

"Why are you so shocked to see me huh?" She joked and you shook your head.

"You don't go to church."

"Touché. I'm actually here with my older sister. She thought it would be beneficial you know." You nodded your head in understanding before she moved over to you.

"Mind if I sit here?"

"Please, go ahead." She gave you a smile, and once upon a time you would have melted at the sight but now your heart was somewhere else.

Speaking of which, Wanda had been staring at the two of you for some time now. She tilted her head, trying to figure out what was going on between the two of you. And when Sam sat next to you, she couldn't help but frown at this. It seemed like the two of you knew each other. Especially with the Way Sam was practically undressing you with her eyes.

She should be shameful. Not because she was in a holy place but because she was stepping onto another woman's property. Not that Wanda saw you as property, but she didn't like this at all.

"So do you wanna go out sometime maybe?" Sam asked with her hand on your shoulder as the service had finally ended.

"Uh no." You pushed her hand away, in attempt of getting away from her.

"I'm seeing someone."

"Oh."

"I should go anyway."

Wanda had told you prior to meet her later that night. She had mentioned how she had wanted to surprise you with something that day a week ago and you could not help the giddy feeling that had been arising in you. Wanda had given you a key to her house some time ago, so it was easy for you to slip into her home without any hassle.

As you walked up the stairs with your hands inside your pocket, you could hear the faint noise of shuffling which you could only assume was from the master bedroom. And when you walked inside, you spotted the blonde woman seated on her bed, a silk robe covering her features.

"Hi." You spoke giddly and Wanda only offered a smile in acknowledgement before beckoning you over with that same smile on her face. You walked over to the woman, who slowly but surely got you to be situated onto your knees in front of her, her hand placing the small strand of hair behind your ear.

"Who was that girl you were with earlier on?" She asked and you frowned in confusion.

"Which girl?"

"Don't play coy with me y/n." You tilted your head, still confused as to what she had been talking about until it dawned you.

"Oh she was just someone."

"Uh huh." Wanda was quiet for a moment before humming.

"Do I look dumb malyshka?"

"W-what no."

"Let me tell you something y/n. I don't like it when someone touches what's mine and sweetie, that friend of yours was touching what was mine."

"Well i-"

"Did mommy say you could talk?" Woah.

"Now it might have been my own fault for letting that cute little head of yours think that you were in charge because my sweet girl, you aren't." Her tone was straight up condescending and you were taken aback by the women's sudden dominance but you'd be a fool if you said you didn't love it.

"I'm sorry." Was all you could mumble as you bowed your head.

"Oh mommy knows you are sweetheart, and you can always make it up to me, right?"

"Yes I can, I promise I can."

"Good girl. Now... " Wanda slipped her robe off, and you were borderline shocked to see a harness attached to her hips.

"Pretty right? And I'm sure it will look even better inside your pussy." She murmured and you couldn't help but let out a small whine.

"Falling into obedience so easily huh?" She chuckled darkly before her hands were in your hair.

"Why don't you get this wet for me huh?" She said while guiding the toy to your lips. And you now being the good girl you are, opened your mouth gladly accepting the toy inside.

"Oh what a precious sight this is." Wanda bit her lip as she watched you suck the red silicone toy in amazement. She was mesmerized with watching it disappear before it reappeared covered in a layer of your spit. Wanda let out a groan once she heard you gag around the toy, she had to hear it again, to see your face become ruined from her ministrations.

Wanda's hips began to raise on their own accord and she cooed as the strap hit the back of your throat countless times.

"That's okay, look how good you're doing for me." And she continued to fuck your mouth until she was satisfied with the results which was your teary half lidded eyes looking up at her.

"How pretty." Wanda commanded you to strip until you were bare before she instructed you to lay down onto her rather comfortable bed. She'd purposefully told you to leave your panties on because she wanted to be the one to slip the garments off. And when she ripped the material apart with a dark look in her eyes, you then realized that you were in for it all. Especially since you had no clue of what lengths Wanda was capable of.

Wanda wasted no time with her fingers. With your slick covered pussy, she maneuvered her two fingers inside before moving them at a moderate pace. Never did you think the woman you had secretly been seeing for almost two months, had this side to her. A feral, dominant and more sadistic side. But you fucking loved it.

"Look at this sweet pussy. What is it that you said huh? Your pussy sings for me..."She reiterated the words you had once told her as she scissored her two digits inside you.

Wanda was fucking you with her fingers. Hard. She just couldn't get the picture of that girl next to you. Wanda would make sure that you knew your body belonged to her. Whenever she would be around, your body would yearn for her subconsciously, your mind would need her. You would need her. She continued with her ministrations, watching as her once dry fingers were now soaked with your arousal.

She smiled to herself, her mind wheeling with all the possibilities she could do with you. And when her mouth latched onto your clit, you were practically gone. The older women fucked you as if she'd known your body for years. You were certain the women knew your body better than you did. You shuddered as her teeth grazed over your clit, a wanton moan escaping your lips from the sensation.

"Oh you like that don't you? Such a pretty girl." She cooed before doing it again. Wanda separated from your pussy, her fingers slipped out of your pussy and you whined which only made her smirk.

"Wanda-"

"Patience dear, you said you'd make it up to me didn't you?" She asked with a raised brow and you let out a huff.

"Don't worry, mommy knows was best for you." She lightly slapped your face before her slick covered fingers were placed inside your mouth.

"Suck. Clean your mess up." And you did. You sucked and licked her fingers as if your life was dependent on it.

"Good girl. If only you could see yourself. You look so fuckable." Wanda's teeth tugged at her lips as her fingers were pulled out of your mouth then slipped inside your pussy again. She began moving them slowly, and your hips started moving on their own accord, needing to feel her fingers slide deeper inside of you.

"Awwe pretty girl, do you want me to fuck you?" A frustrated eye roll was sent her way and within the blink of an eye, Wanda had her hand pressed against your throat, her eyes glimmering with anger, disappointment and lust.

"Don't be a brat now. I don't like brats." She said, her hand tightening around your neck, but not to the point where you couldn't breathe, just as a warning to you.

"M'sorry."

"I'm sure you are." Her hand was still on your neck as the fingers inside you quickened.

"Is this all that you want? To cum?" Her question made you stutter but you nodded your head. Wanda tutted but her fingers still continued to move inside of you.

"Pathetic." Her fingers hit that spongy spot inside you that had you babbling and begging to ask Wanda to cum. She smirked before she made a thinking face.

"You wanna cum detka? Cum for me then."

As the older woman made that final command, your body spasmed and you experienced one of the most toe curling orgasms you'd ever received in your life.

"Fuck."

"There we go, just let go yeah?" Wanda whispered inside your ear as she marked your neck. A reminder that you were hers and anyone that would see these marks would know that you belonged to someone, even if they didn't know it was her.

And when you finally came back from your high, Wanda had already been positioning the strap on inside of you,catching you off guard almost immediately.

"Look how easily it slides in?" She murmured as she slowly began to thrust the toy inside of you.

You could feel it tearing you apart. The silicone toy was longer and girthier than you had expected it to be. But with the way Wanda had been looking at you while her fingers played with your nipples the pain has soon subsided, slowly becoming pleasurable. You moaned and whimpered as Wanda took full control of your body, somehow fucking you into the bed.

"You're mine y/n, don't forget that." She said as she pounded into you. You didn't know what to do with yourself. This pleasure was overwhelming but in a good way.

"Say it."

"I'm yours." With gritted teeth, she continued rutting her hips inside of you and you could feel your orgasm approaching.

"Come on y/n, cum again. And you're gonna keep cumming until I tell you you can stop." Wanda mumbled, her hips never getting tired of pistoning in and out of you, especially with the way your pussy was gripping the toy. Or the way your arousal would spread all over the toy, god it was mesmerizing. And soon enough you had been succumbing the pleasure, your second orgasm of the night hitting you like a tidal wave.

But Wanda Maximoff was a woman of her word. And when she said you'd cum until she was satisfied, she meant it. She was adamant on making your body hers. From the marks to the bites and to your pussy singing for her. Just her.

By the end of the night, your body was hers and her body was yours.

_________________________________________

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