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neilsbeloved · 11 days ago

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What You Do

Main Masterlist - Dean Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Love Confessions, Smut (p in v, oral both receiving, fingering), light angst, light fluff, sex pollen, no use of y/n

Summary/Warnings: This isn't a sex curse. It feel like a sex curse, and looks like a sex curse, but it's not. It has a similar cure to a sex curse, but it's not. And Dean can't fix this.

But the asshole is still going to try.

Author's Note: Back on my (not) sex pollen bullshit. Enjoy!

Title from Shadowboxer by Fiona Apple

Word Count: 7.6k

Sometimes you wish Dean was just a little bit worse of a person.

He seems to think he’s a worse person. He thinks he’s a bad person.

He’s not.

Because a bad person would have left you to writhe and moan on the floor after you got hit with this stupid curse, snapping at you to stand up and pull it together. But Dean had fallen to his knees at your side, brushing away your hair and wiping sweat and blood from your skin. With his hands. Big hands. Big, warm, rough hands with strong, deft fingers that always move so deliberately, that can bruise and mark your skin and fill you up and-

You wished you’d had the strength and mind to push him away in that moment. To grab those hands and shove them away from your face, because where they were usually sparking fireworks, they were setting off nuclear explosions. You wished you’d screamed at him in that moment to at least stop cradling your face, brushing his thumbs over your cheekbones and sending lighting through your blood and into your gut.

But you hadn’t understood what this was. You’d really thought that you were just high on adrenaline and Dean’s touch, the combination making you hornier than usual.

You’d been so fucking wrong. And now Dean won’t stop being a good person, and it’s going to kill you.

He’d insisted on carrying you. You’d taken two, shaking steps, your knees had bucked in an attempt to relieve the pressure between your legs, and Dean had simply refused to let you fall.

“Dean, I can get it, I just need to keep-“

“You say trying,” He’d snapped your name, hooking his arm under your knees and hauling you up his chest. “I’ll fucking shoot you.”

Normally you would’ve protested—insisting that you did need to keep trying, and Dean was just being dramatic—but he’d been warm and strong around you, muscles flexing and shifting as he walked back to the Impala, and your face had come into dangerously close contact with his neck.

You’d bitten through your lip in order not to brush soft kisses over his jaw, suck a spot on his neck, or bite him and see what he’d do to get you back. You’d only made it to the car—and later, into the motel—because you’d been able to bury your face in his skin, and it had tided you over. The smell of Dean—evergreen and spice and gunpowder and something you knew to just purely be him—acting as an anesthetic. Dulling the stabbing, throbbing, and aching pain between your legs and in your gut, soothing your heart back down from the franticly paced rhythm it had set since you’d been hit by that spell.

When he’d set you down on the bed, there had been a brief moment of relief—no more reason to worry about accidentally jumping on him at the worst possible time—before it had all gotten worse. Dean had drawn away, and everything had become a white-hot flame on your every nerve and a sore, blistering cold on your skin. You’d screamed, Dean had rushed back to your side, and he’d started to touch you again. Looking for a wound or mark on your body that he could blame.

There wasn’t one. This was entirely the curse. And every time Dean drew away it was worse—sweat staining your clothing and shivers moving up and down your spine—so you’d agree for him to just stay near you. On the edge of the bed, not touching you because that made everything worse in a different way. Proximity was the best he could offer.

But it wasn’t a fool proof. You were still going out of your mind with desire. And Dean was not helping. He was still being a good fucking person, and he wouldn’t leave you alone. You’d been rolling and moaning into the sheets, whining and humping the air, and Dean had just sat there.

His arms had been braced on his knees. You’d almost started crying as the memory of those knees being shoved between your thighs had sent a newer, stronger wave of desire through your body.

Just another reason Dean needed to go. He’d been refusing to look at you—only staring at the floor like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen—and that makes your lungs feel like iron in your chest because why. Why wouldn’t he look at you.

It could be is that he was disgusted by the sight of you. That he’s only ever seen you like this in low, glowing darkness, and when you’re cast in the shifting sunlight between the blinds, he can’t pretend you’re just another body in a bed. Maybe this is making that too real for him. That you’re the one that makes those desperate sounds that always make his hips stutter. You’re the one who grinds like this onto his dick, and who scratches at his back the same way you’ve been scratching at the mattress.

But then sometimes Dean would look at you, and it was far worse. You couldn’t read that expression, either because he didn’t want you to, or because nothing existed outside of Dean when he looked at you. Things like reading him—studying his every breath and shift in the chair—didn’t matter. He was so handsome. Strong jaw and tanned skin, small freckles you could map in your sleep—you’ve certainly done it before, in the dead of night when he couldn’t know—and green eyes that were almost too pretty. They were like falling stars. Bright and colorful and never yours to just reach up and take. Passing by you in the night. Never colliding with you in a way that would leave a damage you’d love to suffer through.

Dean would look at you, and you’d get lovelorn and drunk on his attention, and then you’d make a lewd sound you couldn’t swallow and buck off the bed.

And he’d cough, sit up a little taller—more vigilant, like he could just defend himself for the horrible sight of you—and look away.

And you’d be left in pain and want again.

He’d kept trying to talk to you, while you waited for Sam to call him back with a name for this curse, and a way to cure it.

“So, uh.” He’d cleared his throat, the sound had been gravely and rough, and you’d almost flown out of your skin. “We’re gonna have to stick around for a few days, to make sure this isn’t a coven situation, but we can do whatever the hell we want. Long as we’re in town. I was thinking, I saw a movie theatre-“

You’d gasped, something jumpstarting in your chest and shooting into your gut at the idea of going to see a movie with Dean. His hand on your thigh in the dark, wandering up your leg and tracing pattens, leaning down to your ear to whisper bad jokes, chuckling when you told him to shut up, but fully laughing when you’d joke back-

“Shit, are you-“

“I’m fine.” You’d said, and you don’t think he’d believed you. Fuck, you hadn’t believed you. “Movie sounds good.”

“Yeah, uh, I saw a diner too. We could do a movie, and get dinner.”

You hadn’t been able to see him. You’d started to lie flat on your back a few hours ago, and Dean had been nothing more than a deep, strong voice that sounded like rainfall and crackling fire in your head. Drowning you in the sound and echoing it around your skull, ravaging through you with just noise and igniting an iridescent light on every part of you he’d touched before.

He’d touch you everywhere before. He’d touched you at a diner. Bumped his foot with yours under a table, raised his brows in a silent question, and smirked when you’d given a small nod. He’d knocked on your door that night. He’d been gone from your bed the next morning.

And dinner and a movie wasn’t what you and Dean did. You did things like that.

But Dean had been suggesting it. Saying it casually in that impossibly powerful voice. You’d had to bite down a scream at the idea of getting to lean over the table in the diner—wiping some crumbs off his lips as he grinned at you—and he’d still been talking-

“Then I saw an awesome looking carnival a town over, we could check that out-“

You’d passed out.

When you’d woken up, Dean was hunched at the side of the bed, muttering low words into his phone.

The first one you’d been able to make out was Sam.

You’d never moved faster in your life.

You’d grabbed the phone out of Dean’s hand, ignoring his grunt of protest and how touching his hand had made you a little dizzy. “Sam Winchester, if you can’t tell me what the fuck is wrong with me, I’m going to throw your fucking hair mousse-“

“I don’t- Uh-“ Sam had cleared his throat through the speaker. “How did you know about-“

“I get bored and snoop.” You’d snapped. “Nothing gets past me, Samuel, and I swear to god I’m going to take all the razors you hid and let Dean shave your head-“

“Jesus,” Sam had muttered your name, and it hadn’t been a good sign that the didn’t sound mad or annoyed. He’d sounded like he pitied you. It had made your whole body tense. “It’s really that bad, isn’t it.”

You’d frowned into the air. “I don’t-“

“The curse. You’re really pissed, Dean says you get like that when you’re, um…“ Sam had trailed off, and you’d scowled.

“When I’m what?”

“I don’t wanna say it.”

“Sam-“

“Pent up.” Sam had muttered, the words clipped through the speaker, and if the thought of him dead didn’t make your heart fracture and splinter, you would’ve killed Dean right there. The asshole.

He’d still been sitting on the bed. If you’d leaned a little closer, you would’ve collapsed over him. He’d needed to stop looking so fucking worried. Being so warm you could feel it radiating from his body and seeping into your skin and stoking that need-

“Sam,” you’d whispered, your fingers curling in the sheets and your nails pushing into your skin. “What’s going on?”

He’d let out a long breath, only static silence on the phone for a long moment before he spoke. “I think it’s a famine curse.”

“Oh.” You’d said, then blinked into the air as the words actually sunk in. “What?”

“Look, just so you know, I told Dean it was a sex curse. This isn’t really my thing to tell him, and it’s not technically a lie, but you are going to have to tell him or this, it will kill you-“

“It will what?” Your voice had cracked, and Dean had frowned.

“Are you-“

You’d given Dean a thumbs up, lowering your voice to a hushed, nervous whisper. “Sam, please just say it, I don’t know what going on and I’m so tired and it hurts-“

“It’s-“ Sam had sighed, his voice far too fucking gentle. “The thing you’ve been starved off and craved the most, you need to have it, or you’ll die.”

You’d shaken your head, falling flat onto your back. “I don’t know what I-“

“Yeah, you do.” Sam had said, and now you understood the sympathy. The pity. The rambling and awkwardness.

Because Sam knew. You’d gotten really drunk and cried about the thing to him a year ago. He rarely mentioned it, but he knew.

And this wasn’t going to get better. Not until you made it better.

Until Dean made it better.

So you were fucked.

“What do I do?” You’d whispered into the phone, closing your eyes to pretend Dean wasn’t only a few feet away. “This isn’t going to- There’s nothing that will- Sam, what do I do-“

You’d started to cry, Dean had moved to hold you in a flash—taking the phone and muttering to Sam that he’d deal with it before hanging up—and after your breathing had steady back to a ragged rhythm, you’d gotten a text from Sam.

Tell him.

You’d stared at the screen, ready to throw it across the room or smash it to pieces so you could just die in peace, and another message had come through.

Please.

And now you’re here. And Dean’s still being a good person, and you can’t do this.

He thinks it’s a sex curse. Sam had apparently said that you needed intimate connection, Dean had taken that to mean sex curse, and Sam hadn’t correct him. In Dean’s defense, it really does seem like a sex curse. You’re twisting and grinding and moaning on the bed, your skin long bare because clothing stuck to your skin and felt acidic on your body, and you’re pretty sure he can smell your arousal, but you don’t crave sex.

Dean offers you plenty of it. You haven’t wanted for sex in almost three years.

What you want is going to be impossible to have. Because Dean Winchester doesn’t do love.

And he still won’t stop being a good person.

He tells you it’s okay to rub one out. He cares so much that you’re comfortable. He keeps putting water on the bedside table so you don’t pass out again, and he coaxes you out of bed for food with slow, firm words.

“You need to eat.” He mutters, reaching for your body but flinching back at the last second. You have to bite down a whine. “You look like shit, sweetheart, and until you let someone help you, we’re going to need to keep your energy up.”

You shake your head, burying your face in a pillow and bunching the blankets between your legs, managing to relieve enough pressure to speak. “I don’t wanna.”

“Don’t wanna-“

“Move.” You mumble, rubbing your thighs together. “It hurts-“

Dean says your name, his voice low and rough and not at all helpful. “I’ve told you I’m okay dealing with this-“

“No.”

“Why the hell not? It’s nothing I haven’t done before, and you know we’re good together-“

Your gaze goes a little blurry, and you almost pass out again. He can’t keep saying shit like that.

“Dean, I-“ You roll onto your back to glare at him, and it’s a mistake. He looks concerned. And handsome. And a little flushed as he watches you hug your chest and fuck the mattress.

You can’t look him in the eyes.

You can’t really do anything at all.

“Please just drop it.” You curl further into yourself, praying he’s started to stare at the floor again. “Please.”

Dean lets out a long breath, but he does. He drops it, on the condition that you eat. And when you do, he keeps trying to talk to you, and you’re too exhausted to tell him to shut up.

“What’d you mean, when you told Sammy you snoop?” He asks, and it takes three steady breaths to answer him.

“Sometimes you guys go out, I stay behind, and I get… bored.”

“Bored?”

You nod, fidgeting with your fingers and trying not to hump your chair. “I go around and find where you’re hiding things.”

“Like...” Dean pauses and you can hear his confused frown. He’s probably making an adorable face. You wish you could look at him and not moan. “Hair gel and razors?”

“And romance books. And a secret laptop for personal use.” You drop your brow to fully rest on the table, raising your voice. “And a Taylor Swift cassette tape, and a very soft blanket, and three emergency pies-“

“Alright, alright I get it.” Dean chuckles, and the sound rolls right through your body. “You’ve really just poked in our business, huh, sweetheart?”

“You poke in mine all the time, Dean-“

“I don’t know where your secret stash of shame is-“

“And you never will,” you mumble, a small smile pulling at your lips. “I hid it where even demons wouldn’t want to go.”

Dean hums. “Sammy’s room.”

“No.”

“Your room?”

“That would be a terrible hiding spot-“

“My room?”

You’re silent for a second too long, and Dean’s tone becomes disbelieving.

“You hid it in my room?! What’d you do that for?!“

“Shut up.”

“Nah, baby, you’re gonna have to explain that one-“

“Dean!” You snap, glaring up at him. “Shut up!”

You’re looking at him. His eyes are darkened. And you’d misread his tone. It’s awe on his face. Awe and confusion.

You fall out of your seat with a moan.

Dean catches you.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, half dragging you back to the bed and placing you carefully on the mattress before digging through his jeans. “If you’re not going to let me help you, I’m calling Sam and he’ll- fuck- he’ll do it-“

“Dean, no-“

“Yes.” He snaps, shooting you an almost violent glare. “I don’t know what the fuck I did that you don’t want to touch me, and I’m not gonna cross that line, not for nothing, but we’re still fixing this. You don’t want me, you get Sam. You don’t want Sam, I’m calling Cas. You don’t want him, you better start brainstorming, sweetheart, because I’ll be damned if I’m going to just fucking sit here and watch you die-“

You’re going to start crying again. It’s all too much. He sounds angry and your cursed and addled brain can’t handle it. You’re burning up from the inside. You’re breathing and it doesn’t feel like oxygen because Dean’s mad and you can’t do anything-

“Please don’t call them.” You mumble, pulling your knees up to your chest. “They won’t be able to help.”

Dean shakes his head, his focused, furious determination not breaking. “Then what the hell will help?! Because you’re going to have sex! You’re not allowed to clock out on me,” he shouts your name, and now he just sounds pained, and it’s worse. “I don’t- I’m not- If I can’t be the cure for this we’re finding someone who can-“

“It won’t work-“

“Yes, it will! Sam said you needed to fuck, you’re-“

“That’s not what Sam said.”

There’s a long pause as Dean blinks at you, and then-

“What are you talking about.”

“He said I needed an intimate connection.”

“Yeah, sex-“

“No-“

“It’s a fucking sex curse, baby-“

“Stop saying that!” You scream, and the room seems to be spinning a little bit. “Stop calling me baby! It’s not fair, and I- I can’t- You’re making it worse, Dean! Just stop being so fucking nice!”

The silence is going to suffocate you. It’s like oil and gasoline leaking into your lungs and surrounding your body, and you’re going to drown in what feels like nothing at all as Dean’s just silent-

Dean says your name, his every word slow and measured. “What kind of curse is it.”

“Dean-“

“You said it’s not a sex curse.” He snaps. “So what the hell is it.”

You swallow, and you’re too far gone now to push back. “Famine curse.” You whisper. “I- I need something that I’ve been starved off. And craved.”

You can hear his frown. “But we fuck all the time-“

“We do.” You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your palm over your pussy. It doesn’t really help. “It’s not just about the sex. It’s- I need more.”

“More…” Dean trails off, and you’re defiantly crying now. “More intimacy? Would we like, need to cuddle or something-“

You let out a dry, humorless laugh. “More than cuddling. It’s- You’d have to- I-“

Dean says your name in a low warning, and you might break that hand between your thighs. ‘What-“

“You’d have to mean it. You’d have to, um, fuck me and-“

“And mean it? I always mean it-“

“You have to love me!” You almost scream, your mouth moving faster than any sense of self-preservation or will, and you’ve fucked it.

You’d said the thing. You weren’t even supposed to think it. You’d trained yourself to keep it only a ravenous, deep and insatiable feeling inside your body that picked up and rioted when Dean was around you and grew bitter and heavy when he wasn’t.

But you’d said it.

And he’s not gone. He didn’t fly out the door or scramble off the bed with wide eyes. He’s not reminding you in gentle but firm words that that is not what you two are supposed to be.

But what he does is worse. He leans over your body to look at you, takes your face between his hands and scans over your slack, open features, and says your name.

You pass out again.

It’s not hard, waking up. This time it’s simple and slow, a comfortable weight draped around your shoulders a sense of ease filling your whole body.

There’s a strong arm wrapped around your stomach, and a warm thumb rubbing small circles on the bare skin of your waist, and nothing is aching or painful at all.

Oh.

Oh, no.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Dean’s voice is low in your ear, and you almost moan again. He’s not naked behind you, but he’s changed into sweats, and his shirt is gone. You can’t stop the frantic grind of your ass back into him, or the desperate sound that leaves you when Dean’s grip tightens, stopping any further attempt to move on him.

“Please,” you whisper, squirming against him, because if you’re going to die from something as dumb and pathetic as this, you might as well go out with Dean buried inside you. “Dean-“

“None of that right now.” He mutters, completely pinning you against his chest. “Not yet. We gotta talk first.”

“Dean-“

“You want me.”

“Yeah.” You mumble, and Dean hums, his voice slightly hoarse.

“You love me?”

“I love you.” You can’t stop the words, and he’s still not gone.

His hand starting to drift lower. And when he speaks, and his voice is almost a growl, and you’re going to implode or explode or something. Burst into flames somehow, because that’s his I’m going to fuck you so good, baby, voice.

“You need me to mean it?” He mutters in your ear, and you nod weakly.

“Yeah, Dean, but you don’t have to-“

Dean grabs your chin and angles your head back, slamming his lips into yours with a bruising but careful force, and you don’t explode. You melt. Molding against his body and going slack in his arms, leaning your head back to try and devour the taste of him. Cheap coffee and mint and that purely Dean thing that’s always been like a drug. Always hooked you and dragged you right into him.

This won’t be different. It might end in your heart literally breaking, but you’ll still be chasing him until your legs give out. If he catches you, he catches you. If he doesn’t-

There are worse deaths that this.

“Sit back, sweetheart.” Dean murmurs against your skin, dragging his thumb over your lower lip. “I’m going to mean it so hard you’ll see stars.”

“Dean, I- It’s more than that-“

He cuts you off with another kiss. He needs to stop doing that, because now he’s being soft and sweet, running his tongue over your teeth and letting you melt all the way into his touch without thought. Teasing you with a deep hum that you can feel in his chest behind you, making your eyes flutter close as you let yourself get lost in him. How good he is, how he good tastes, how good his hands feel as they start palm at your tits-

You gasp as he pinches and rolls a nipple between his fingers, and you’re already so overstimulated from nothing at all that it’s like being slammed with a freight train. A good freight train. A freight train that’s made of Dean’s mouth starting to wander down your neck, and his thumb rubbing soothing circles around the peak of your breast.

“I know, baby.” Dean keeps speaking against you, and it only stokes the borderline maddening need for him in your body. “Trust me. I’ve got you.”

He’s got you. You’re drowning in this almost primal need for him, and he still hasn’t said the thing that would save you, but he’s got you.

And you’d trust him. With everything you have, you trust Dean. Every single shadowed and scarred and mauled part of you has long known that, even when you have nowhere and no one, you have Dean. Not the way you want, but at your side in the day and above you in the dark. He can be a protector and a secret. You really could’ve lived with both, if it wasn’t for this stupid fucking curse.

But Dean says he’s got you, and you can’t think of anything to do but believe him. Especially because this isn’t the dark. There are lamps on, and he can see you. All of you, naked in his arms, and making lewd sounds as his knee shoves between your legs and his mouth starts to suck small marks on your neck.

He’s never done that before. Dean’s only marked you between your thighs and on your breasts. You think he’d liked that only he would be the one to see them. He’d been possessive every time he’d put laid them there, muttering low praise and gripping you tight enough to bruise your hips, tracing rough fingers over the dark spots with a gleam in his eyes you’d never allowed yourself to read into.

He’s being possessive now, too. Every time he moves to a different spot on your neck, he kisses the mark he’d just left, and he’s trapping you against his knee with an arm over your stomach, growling as you grind against him and throw your head back on his shoulder.

“Dean,” you gasp, your nails digging into his skin as he flicks your nipple. “God, please, I- I need- Need it-“

“’S alright, pretty girl.” He mutters, and your hips jerk against him. “Just let go, I’m here-“

You scream as you cum, and Dean grabs your chin, keeping your head against him as he swallows the sound with a groan.

“There’s one.” Dean smiles against your lips, and your wiggle against him as he rubs his knee back and forth on your cunt. “Good work, baby.”

For a second, everything is okay again. Dean’s kisses wander over your jaw, he’s still holding you, and the bliss in your body is only a clear, dazed light in your head and gentle warmth in your gut.

But then the light becomes blinding and searing in your skull, and the warmth becomes fire. Leaving blisters on your organs and making your skin spiked and wired and burnt-

You barely have a moment to shriek before Dean’s kissing you again, and it dulls everything but the pleasure. Just Dean’s tongue pressing onto yours, his hands gripping you by your hips and rolling you onto your back, his body covering yours entirely as he pulls away with a wide, almost boyish grin to look at you.

You’re a mess. You must be a mess. You’re wet in every possible sense of the word—arousal leaking between your thighs you know he’d been able to feel on his knee, sweat pressing your hair to your brow and staining the sheets below you—and you’re flushed and panting and a little fucking dizzy as you hang on the edge of. This isn’t how you’d want Dean to see you. Not like this, not for the first and last time, not when your breathing is ragged and you’re already wrecked and he looks like a god-

“You’re so fucking hot,” he mutters, shaking his head like he almost can’t believe. “Shit, baby, you’re gorgeous.”

You whine, because it’s all your mouth can manage to figure out how to do, and if you’re hot Dean’s volcanic. His nostrils are flaring as he scans over you, his skin looking like it fucking glows and his body carved from your deepest desires, and his cock is big and proud and poking on your thigh, and his eyes-

There’s a gleam in them. The possessive gleam you’ve never seen in full light. It’s intoxicating, and aimed at your soul like the barrel of a gun.

Dean starts to move again, and all you can do is let him work. Let him leave those same marking kisses down your chest—between and across your breasts, briefly sucking each nipple between his lips and flicking it with his tongue before moving on—and over your stomach, trailing feather-light touches over your torso and arms and waist, driving you out of your mind as you focus on breathing. Just breathing as your body starts to roll and rush with pleasure, and your head just spins around Dean. Everything smells like him, and you can hear him groaning against your skin, and you can feel him everywhere.

He’s reached your abdomen. And when his mouth finally drops lower, all he does is press one, soft kiss right over your clit before drawing back. Letting two broad fingers run over and between your pussy lips, spreading your folds wide for him to see and pressing his thumb right over your cunt without breaching inside.

“So fucking wet,” Dean says your name, and you really wish you could see his face right now. See if he looks as awestruck as he sounds.

You make a strangled sound that’s supposed to be his name, and he chuckles.

“Jesus, babygirl, you’re fucking soaked. Bet this pussy is ready for a proper fucking.” He presses his thumb slightly down, and if you had the energy to spring off the bed, you would. “But I think you’re going to need to hold it for a second. Let me get you nice and ready to take this cock.”

Your fingers curl in the bedsheet as you try to figure out how to scream at him to just take you, to stop being so fucking good and just fuck you, but you can’t. All you can do is listen to Dean’s deep, lustful drawl and hope you look half as pretty as he pretends you are.

Dean drags your hands from the sheets to tangle in his hair, and all you get is a small squeeze of your thighs before he’s shoving them fully apart and burying his face in your cunt.

It’s unfair, how good Dean is at this. He can’t be handsome and funny and able to ruin you with just his mouth, but he is. He knows exactly how to touch and taunt and toy with you, how to play with your pussy until you’re higher than fucking heaven. He tongue-fucks your cunt with an almost brutal fervor, and his strong nose rubs back and forth of your clit, and fuck, his hands are teasing at your thighs and keeping your legs split open for him to devour you.

You’ve never made these sounds before, and it’s spurring him on. Dean starts to circle your clit with his tongue, licking and sucking and rolling until you’re in a frenzy, and his stubble is perfectly soft and rough on your skin, and his teeth are grazing you ever so slightly-

You don’t scream this time. You moan and choke on air as you cum, and a flood of warmth rushed through your dripping cunt as you tug at Dean’s hair.

He rises up, wiping his face of something shiny and wet that you might have put there, and grins at you with bright, sparkling eyes.

“I didn’t know you could squirt.” He examines his fingers, looking back to you with a wide grin “We’re gonna have to figure out how to make you do it again, though, because that was fucking hot.”

You didn’t know you could squirt either. And you’d linger on how you might not have an again, but this relief is lasting longer, and Dean decides it’s a good idea to lick his fingers clean.

You’d had just enough strength to push up on your palms. You almost collapse back down at the sight, the ache starting to reignite between your legs.

But it’s not enough to hurt, though. This orgasm seems to be cresting, tiding you over for a little until the curse regains its hold on your body, and you plan to take full advantage of that. Dean’s still hard. And massive. And fucking throbbing.

You need him. Now.

When you move to your knees, crawling forward on the bed, Dean’s eyes widen.

“Shit, wait, sweetheart-“

You surge up when you meet him, crashing your lips to his and hanging off his body as he holds you upright. Thank god, he lets you have this. Dean groans into your mouth and ruts into your thigh, tugging on your hair to grant himself further access to your lips and throat.

You lower yourself to your knees and take Dean’s cock in your hands, slowly pumping him as he keeps a hand in your hair, shaking his head slightly.

“Baby, you don’t have to-“

“I do.” You whisper. You have to. Not for the curse, but for you. He needs to feel good too. You have to taste him, feel him heavy on your tongue and hear him groan when you touch him-

“I-“ He lets out a low groan as you run your thumb over his already weeping slit, and God, he’s so handsome. “Are you feeling-“

“I’m good. I promise.” You stroke him one last time before leaning back, rising your arms over your head as you hold his gaze. “Please.”

“Jesus,” Dean mutters your name, rubbing his jaw. “You’re- shit, okay.”

You smile at him as he moves to straddle your chest, bracing one hand on the headboard and the other in your head.

“Don’t know what the hell I did to deserve you, baby.” He mutters, pressing his dick on your lower lip and grunting when you part for him. “So fuckin’ pretty. Gonna fuck your mouth until you scream, sweetheart, so you need to-“

You grip Dean’s thighs, fully opening your mouth in a silent invitation, and his eyes flash, his hand tightening in your hair.

It’s all the warning you get before Dean shoves his cock between your lips and starts to rut into your mouth. He’s bumping the back of your throat and groaning your name above you, and he looks divine and tastes like salt and earth and Dean.

“God, you feel so good,” his words are fully slurring, low and almost a growl as you hollow your cheeks. “Shit, babygirl, you’re a fucking sin, look so beautiful suckin’ my cock, so fuckin’ good-“

He’s so fucking good. Dean’s head thrown back and his eyes hooded and trapped on yours, his biceps flexing as he leans forward and angles your head, and the ache is starting bubble over again so you drift a hand between your legs, and every time his hips jerk you whine and swallow around him-

“Fuck-“ Dean hisses, and he pulls away from you with a pop and groan, grabbing your wrist and pinning it back above your head. “Can’t do that yet, I told you we need to hold on-“

“Please,” you whisper, the pain starting to become overwhelming again. It’s worse this time. You feel like you’re being flayed alive every second Dean’s skin isn’t pressed to yours, and you don’t know how much longer you can hold on for. “Dean, I need you, please.” You almost sob, and his jaw clenches. “I’m sorry, I just, it hurts-“

This is the softest kiss so far. Just a press of his lips on yours, the type of kiss you’d give a real lover, just to assure them you’re there. That you’ve got them and you’re never letting go.

“I know, sweet girl, I know. I’m gonna take care of you.” Dean scans over you, his voice so painfully gentle. “How do you-“

“However you want.” Your voice is barely a breath, and you spread your legs as wide as you can, praying he’ll just take what he wants.

But he’s a good person. So he doesn’t. Dean presses one last kiss to your brow, rolls you above him, and guides you down onto his cock.

You make a loud, shameless sound of relief as he bottoms out. You’re in a daze of pure Dean—filling you up and pressing deep inside of you and so good—and when you start to rock your hips, he lets you. Dean just watches you grind onto his dick with a dark, slightly glazed expression, grunting when you roll in a circle and holding you upright by your waist.

He lets you set the pace, lets your hands wander over every scar on his chest and your body writhe above him.

“Dean-“ You gasp, falling forwards to kiss him deep and desperate into the pillows. “I- you’re- God-“

He sucks on your upper lip, his voice only a growl that rumbles right into your cunt. “Say it again.”

“Dean-“

“No.” His hips jerk up, his grip tightening slightly. “Say the thing.”

“I love you,” you moan, and this time there’s no panic. He already knows. And whatever he asks of you, you’ll offer. Anything to stay here. Stuffed with Dean’s cock, a little high on how he’s watching you like you’re the first sunrise. “I love you, Dean, you’re- fuck, you’re so good-“

The sound that leaves Dean is feral, and he flips you over without effort. Pulling out briefly to reposition you beneath him, slapping the head of his cock on your clit, and shoving back into you with a groan and deep, rough kiss.

His pace doesn’t change from what you’d set. It’s almost in perfect time, rolling his hips to press against the deepest part of you and kissing all over your face as he drags you right back up to the edge.

“Look at you, baby. Takin’ this cock so fuckin’ good,” he grunts in your ear, his skin slapping against yours. “So pretty, such a tight, sweet pussy, so good, all mine-“

You moan, squeezing around him, and Dean groans, speeding up just enough to slam against at gooey, needy spot inside of you.

“There we go, sweetheart, gimme one more-“

You shake your head, clinging to his shoulders as he starts to rub furious circles on your clit. “Dean- I can’t-“

“You can. I know you can, baby, you gotta cum-“

“Dean-“

“C’mon!” He growls your name, and he sounds almost desperate. “I’ve gotcha, baby, I’m here, you just gotta cum for me, fuckin’ cum-“

You think you scream his name. You’re not really sure. Pleasure numbs your every other sense as your orgasm hits, and all you can hear is your blood pounding in your ears and Dean’s voice, right next to your ear.

“I love you,” he says your name, and you really wish the world wasn’t just light and hazy warmth right now. “So much, and I- fuck- I need you. Please.”

The next few moments are utter oblivion. You can’t tell if you’re cured or not, because all you can smell and feel is Dean and warmth leaking between your thighs, but all you can hear are Dean’s words bouncing around your head, and all you can see is white.

He loves you.

He needs you.

And when you come back down, your vision clearing and every bit of pain evaporating into the air, you feel good.

Dean’s no longer above you. He’s moved you into his lap, and he’s holding you to his chest as if you’re a stuffed animal. Your face his pressed into his neck, and his voice is low enough you can’t make out exactly what he’s saying, but it sounds like he’s praying.

You wait a second as your mind returns to your body, and he’s not praying. He’s mostly just saying your name, over and over again, but his tone is heavy and rough, and it sounds like a prayer.

“Dean,” you whisper, pushing slightly off of his chest to meet his wide eyes. “I-“

He kisses you. But this isn’t one of the soft, reassuring kisses, or the heady, lustful ones. It’s long and deep and careful, and it feels like he’s trying to push his breath into your throat. He’s holding you like you’re fragile and—when he pulls away and presses his brow to yours—looking at you like just his gaze might turn you to mist in his hands.

“Did it work?” His voice is strained, his fingers digging slightly into your skin like he’s trying to tether you together, or drag you into his body. “Are we good?”

You nod, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth because you can’t help yourself. “We’re good.”

“Thank fuck.” He lets out a long breath, his eyes squeezing shut. “Son of a bitch, I had the three orgasms down, but Sam said you I’d have to say it during climax, and he didn’t say if it would be mine or yours so I had to take the gamble-“

“Sam said?!” You lean away from him, gaping slightly. “When did you ask Sam-“

“After you said you love me, then passed out.” Dean gives you a flat look. “You weren’t going to be helpful, sweetheart, and I needed to know how to fix this.”

“You-“ You swallow, flushing as you force yourself to hold his gaze. “Did you- Did you know you could fix it? After I told you how?”

Dean nostrils flare, and he nods. “Yeah.”

“And did you mean it?”

A small smile plays on his lips. “Curse wouldn’t have worked if I didn’t, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, whacking his arm. “Shut up, I’ve had a long day-“

“You’ve had a long day?” Dean raises his brows, his grin becoming shit eating. “The girl I love almost just died because she would just let me fuck her-“

“Well how was I supposed to know you loved me! You’d never said it-“

“Neither had you-“

“Yeah, but- you-“ You scowl at him, even as you drop your brow back to his. “You never fucked me with the lights on.”

“You never asked me to fuck you with the lights on.” Dean lets out a long breath, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone. “I thought you just didn’t want me to.”

“Oh.” You sigh. “Well, fuck.”

Dean chuckles in agreement, nodding. “Also, did you tell Sam and not me-“

“By accident-“ You pause, your eyes widening on Deans. “Wait, he didn’t know that you-“

“He was the only person that knew. The little bitch.” Dean grumbles, and you giggle, kissing him on the cheek and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Sam is not little.”

“He’s gonna be little when I’m done with him. Letting me think you didn’t love me when he fucking knew-“

“I did tell him not to say anything.” You offer. “There were threats of stabbing.”

“He shoulda risked it.” Dean snaps, and you just hum against his skin.

You could get used to this.

You really need to make sure it’s real, and that the oblivion wasn’t actually death, and you’re not just in heaven right now. You probably wouldn’t actually make it to heaven, but it could also just be a really creative hell, so you have to check.

“Dean?”

He grunts, tracing pattern on your hips, and you let out a slow breath.

“How long have you… loved me?”

“I-“ He sighs, not quite meeting your eyes. “A while.”

“How long is-“

“Long enough that I don’t remember.”

“Oh.” You mumble, and he lets out a dry chuckle.

“How about you?”

“Forever.” You whisper, scanning over his face to figure out if you can find what you’d somehow missed before.

And there it is. In the light, it’s easy to see. Clear, soft and solid love written on Dean’s every feature, all of it designed for you. It’s not really in his eyes or the curve of his lip, or how he’s holding you or shifting to keep you comfortable above him. It’s all of it together, spelling out so obviously that Dean loves you.

You wonder if he can see something similar on you. If that’s why his eyes flash and his lips part, his hands stilling on your body and his voice growing rough.

“Are we- Is this it?”

“This-“

“Us.” He mutters, and you’ve never seen him nervous before. Bowing his head as he blushes, leaning a little closer to your body like he could move into you forever. “Together.”

“I-“ Your fingers trace over a scar on his abdomen, and you take a long breath. “Do you want to do this? Us?”

“More than anything.”

“Oh.” You swallow, and Dean looks up at you with an almost panicked expression.

“Do you- I get it if you don’t, Sammy and I don’t have a great track record, but I fucking swear, baby, I’d-“

It’s your turn to cut him off with a kiss. And when you pull back he looks a little dazed, and you smile.

“I want you, Dean. More than anything.”

Dean drags you into a deeper longer kiss, he really is the best person you’ve ever known.

A worse person wouldn’t hold you like this. A worse person wouldn’t say they love you and make sure you feel it in your bones. A worse person could never smile like Dean does—wide and toothy and bright—or light up your whole world with just his presence and voice.

“You and me, baby?”

“Okay.” You smile back, and he’s so good. “You and me.”

“Awesome.”

End Note: Is it even porn if it isn't emotional??? Am I even me if I don't make it emotional??

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Taglist

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature @sthefferrete @lyarr24

@deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @elle14-blog1

@impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @itsdearapril @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused

@arcticwisteria @generalmoonpolice @foxyjwls007 @jackles010378 @godhelpthisbtch

@ilovedeanwinchester4 @sleepykittycx @immastealurkneecaps @star-yawnznn @maddie0101

@chi-raz @lori19 @wynnthewynnderful @redwinexsupernova @tiana-kh

@woaheasytig3r @canibeyourghoulfriend @lovelywebber

#lore: fic recs #dean winchester smuit #im in love #this is so beautiful #SO WELL WRITTEN IM SO #i love u author /platonically

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neilsbeloved · 23 days ago

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clark / superman fic recs!!!! tysm brooke for making this nd including me 🥹🥹🥹

ᯓ★ clark kent - superman

𝜗𝜚 masterlist • dc • 07/23/25

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs two II one II gif credit - @/newavengers

here are some clark kent stories i’ve read, loved, and reblogged. all the admiration for the writers who share their talent so generously. please be sure to read the warnings on each fic. and if you enjoy them, let the author know by a comment, reblog, or both! ♡

ᝰ.ᐟ key: A- angst I F- fluff I S- smut I C- comfort I HC- hurt/comfort I ~S- implied smut I

ꨄ︎ clark kent hcs I @404superman I F

ꨄ︎ sex pollen I @dearwalker I S

When Clark gets poisoned with sex pollen, he tries everything in his power to stay away from you. Until he ends up crashing into your living room, and you have a god on his knees, with your name in his mouth and your body at his will.

ꨄ︎ don’t want you like a best friend I @se7entyrell I F + S

the one in which jimmy olsen is tired of watching you and clark dance around your feelings, and decides to do something about it, aka the one where clark fucks you at a daily planet gala.

ꨄ︎ honey i love you, that’s all she wrote I @/se7entyrell I F

The one in which Clark Kent has a wife and daughter that give the word home a whole new meaning.

ꨄ︎ blurb pt2 pt3 I @callsign-swan I F

Superman is dating someone pink and Clark Kent totally isn't jealous.

ꨄ︎ blurb I @/callsign-swan I F

Your first time meeting krypto had Clark worried, to say the least.

ꨄ︎ clark kent and the lavender skirt I @luveline I F

You like to rush things. Clark takes things slow until he can’t anymore. (Or, you attempt to seduce your coworker in a series of little skirts, and while Clark falls in love with all of you, the skirts don’t hurt.)

ꨄ︎ time lost in a warm lap I @/luveline I F + ~S

Clark stays the night for the first time.

ꨄ︎ cute panties I @/luveline I F + ~S

ꨄ︎ request I @ddejavvu I ~S

ꨄ︎ request I @/ddejavvu I F

ꨄ︎ gold rush I @goldenlikedayl1ght I A + F

your boyfriend's dog gives you a concussion and it's not even the worst part of your week.

ꨄ︎ business of flirting I @fluentmoviequoter I F

You flirt with Clark Kent every time he comes into your coffee shop. When he finally realizes you do it for more reason than watching him shy away from you, he realizes you're not so different.

ꨄ︎ baby, it’s you! I @bodhiscurls I A + F

clark kent finally works up the courage to ask you to dinner; only to run behind on work with lois and completely stand you up. it's fine, you're three glasses of wine in and ready to rant at your friend lois' door, only to find the cause of tonight's rage sitting there on her sofa. now, clark has to find a way to tell you the truth; that this is all a misunderstanding and it's only ever been you. it will always be you.

ꨄ︎ where do we go now? I @/bodhiscurls I A

you don't know where he disappears to- there's always excuses: he's caught up at work, stuck in traffic, some stupid alien attack cut him up on his commute. but now more than ever when you need him to show up at a family dinner where you planned to introduce him to your parents, he still comes in pieces and enough is enough.

ꨄ︎ you and i- we’re in this for life I @/bodhiscurls I A + F

it's your wedding day, you've dreamed of this for moment for months to finally marry the love of your life so why does it feel like you just can't breathe. it's the shoes, the dress, the people you don't even know waiting for you outside- good thing clark doesn't believe in it being bad luck to see the bride before the wedding- he has the best luck in the world to be marrying you.

ꨄ︎ nonsense I @xxepherr I F

in which clark kent thinks he's the one keeping a superhero secret in your relationship, but really, it's you.

ꨄ︎ fortress I @charmedntruer I F

tasked to take clark to the safest possible place he can recover from the pocket universe, you come to a few new revelations of your own upon seeing where clark was raised in the countryside.

ꨄ︎ starboy I @buckysfaveplum I HC

recovering from kryptonite poisoning back home in Kansas leaves your relationship with Clark a bit confused. you’ve always been his rock- his best friend. but now, back on the farm, maybe there was always something more

ꨄ︎ krypto, take me home I @/buckysfaveplum I C

when Clark can’t make it to the fortress, Krypto brings him to you

ꨄ︎ groupie I @/buckysfaveplum I F

he’s your punkrocker. your star. but sometimes you wonder if you’re just a groupie, if he sees you the same

ꨄ︎ tell-tale heart I @/buckysfaveplum I F

clark can't help but indulge when he hears how fast your heartbeat gets around him

ꨄ︎ drabble I @hearts4hughes I F

trying to give clark a hickey

ꨄ︎ phases to love I @/hearts4hughes I A + F

ꨄ︎ drabble I @rotapathetic I F

no one laughs at clark’s jokes but you

ꨄ︎ stood up I @shadybinature I A + S

Superman has to save the world, so Clark Kent stands you up....again.

ꨄ︎ where the leashes tangle I @writing-for-marvel I F

While walking Krypto, Clark ends up entangled with you and your puppy.

ꨄ︎ blurb I @milkbean69 I S

leaked sextape

ꨄ︎ jealous of jimmy I @plaidcowboy I F

clark becomes upset and a little insecure about the fact that you and jimmy have been so close recently, but thankfully you’re there to reassure him that he still has his chance with you!

ꨄ︎ clingy clark I @/plaidcowboy I C

after insecurely taking advice from jimmy and spending hours online, clark distances himself from you. scared he might’ve overwhelmed you with his clinginess. all for a crying clark to come back home to you.

ꨄ︎ clark kent hcs I @fear-is-truth

ꨄ︎ wayne strategies I @athenalvss I F

In revenge against your brother, you went to work in Metropolis and perhaps your brother's league partner makes you put into action the Wayne strategies to have the person you want.

ꨄ︎ drabble I @cherrysinner I F

having clark be mean to you in front of his parents.

ꨄ︎ anti-bullying assembly I @/cherrysinner I F

when your school's principal catches you on the phone with superman, not realizing it's your husband, you come up with an excuse as to why you were on the phone with him.

ꨄ︎ i saw mom kissing superman I @/cherrysinner I A + F

your daughter accidentally catches you with your lips locked with superman and thinks you're cheating on her father.

ꨄ︎ underneath the covers I @neilsbeloved I F + S

freshman year of college has you going insane. good thing clark has a knack for knowing exactly when to sweep you off your feet, way before any unwanted crashouts happen.

ꨄ︎ on the record I @kingkat12 I F + S

finally, you get that interview with Superman that could make or break your career-- however, it will be done his way, or no way.

ꨄ︎ night’s so blue I @junleb I F

it's rare for two reporters to be assigned to the same movie. how convenient that you already have a good relationship with clark. or, this is too good to be true. it isn't a set-up, right?

ꨄ︎ unfold your love I @/junleb I F

jimmy olsen and the mystery of two idiots who are definitely not in love

ꨄ︎ poisonivy!reader hcs I @poge-life

ꨄ︎ my hero I @jungkooklover777 I F + A

an office romance sounds good in theory but what happens when it goes according to theory?

ꨄ︎ tornado warnings I @thatfoxygrl I F

ꨄ︎ couldn’t make it any harder I @/thatfoxygrl I A + F

when you're known around school for being avoidant, clark wonders if theres any truth to the rumors and challenges himself to break down your walls and get to know the real you

ꨄ︎ journalist!reader I @killishin I F

ꨄ︎ stop avoiding me I @/killishin I F

ꨄ︎ kissing clark kent I @sunsburns I F

ꨄ︎ rivals to lovers pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt6 pt7 pt8 pt9 I @messylxve I F + HC

ꨄ︎ a lesson in trust falling I @swordgrace I F

you’re not fond of flying — thankfully, your boyfriend is superman.

ꨄ︎ places we were made I @codenamefalcon I F

Smallville will always be Clark’s home. It was where he was raised. It was where his parents were. It was where you were. During one week long visit, he finally decides to brave the leap from friendship to something more with you, but something gets in the way. Fortunately for Clark, he’s dedicated to proving just how much you mean to him, and you’re a sucker for a trip down memory lane.

ꨄ︎ all makes sense I @musingsofheaven I S

The obsession of other interns had with him never made sense. Not until one night… drinks turned into something more. It’s so good that it makes all those promises to never be one of the girls giggling over Clark Kent feel ridiculous. But now it makes sense. God, now it does.

ꨄ︎ the sound of my voice (will haunt you) I @orobaxis I A

ꨄ︎ bring me sunshine I @eupheme I S

ꨄ︎ eyes like pretty lights I @fawnindawn I F

surprising clark with a visit at the daily planet, it sparks memories of the past and how some things never change, especially clark's eyes that still shine like pretty lights only for you. seeing your best friend in metropolis after so long, it might be hard for you to leave him again- especially when he doesn't want you to.

ꨄ︎ till i lose it I @/fawnindawn I A + F

Clark finds himself feeling jealous for the first time when you get assigned on a case with Jimmy Olsen, and start spending more time with the photojournalist instead of him.

ꨄ︎ bad friend I @twiceasbright I A + F

your best friend asks you to set her up with clark kent, who's your work crush. despite your feelings for him, you agree- for the sake of your friend. but things go awry when you panic and end up accidentally asking him out yourself. now you have to find a way to fix it before things go too far.

ꨄ︎ no strings attached… unless? I @kryptoclark I A + F + S

what was supposed to be a simple no-strings hookup between best friends turns complicated when feelings inevitably get involved. huh. who would've thought?

ꨄ︎ who’s calling my phone? I @prettypeeling I F

clark has a crush on the daily planet's receptionist.

ꨄ︎ cemetery girl I @vaamppiraa I A

in which you and clark are married, but after an accident, you lose your memory

ꨄ︎ you deserve it I @blank-potato I S

Clark has a tough day so you decide to make him feel better. You both just hope your neighbours don't kill you with how loud the two of you tend to get.

ꨄ︎ hit me hard and soft I @sceletaflores I S

ꨄ︎ locked out I @thatcorporategirlie I F

You find yourself locked out of your apartment, so your very attractive neighbor Clark offers you to hang out at his and eat some pizza until your friend arrives with your spare key.

ꨄ︎ big blue softy I @starryevermore I C

you have a minor surgery and clark is more than happy to take care of you.

ꨄ︎ meet the kents I @isaadore I F

clark takes you home to meet his parents and spends the entire trip being an embarrassing, love-sick puppy.

ꨄ︎ unmasked I @sunsherbet I A + C

In which you want your boyfriend, not superman, to save you

ꨄ︎ one-shot I @p3terparker I F

you confess your feelings for clark, not knowing he’s listening to everything you’re saying.

ꨄ︎ benny and the jets I @snooperzz I A + C

After the reader/oc tries and fails to get back into the dating scene, Clark Kent swoops in to save the day.

ꨄ︎ technical difficulties I @hauntedhowlett-writes I S

As an IT specialist for The Daily Planet, you’re no stranger to Clark Kent’s struggles with technology. When he calls you on your personal phone with an after hours emergency, of course you’re willing to help him out. He shows his gratitude in an interesting way.

ꨄ︎ you make me wanna make you fall in love I @cerisereids I A + F

You’re the new assistant at the Daily Planet. Your job is to run errands, get coffees, and not fall in love with the handsome man in glasses.

#lore: fic recs #clark kent fic #clark kent x reader #clark kent smut #superman x reader #clark kent fluff #clark kent x you #clark kent

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neilsbeloved · 28 days ago

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i was listening to billy joel while reading your clark fics and noticed that ‘she’s always a woman’ is literally student body president!fem!reader coded!!! ahh i need more of them 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

omg let me listen to it later while re-reading my fics 😩 thank u so much for liking sbp reader!!! hopefully i get the motivation to write my wips 😭🩷

#lore: asks #THIS IS SO UCTE

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neilsbeloved · 28 days ago

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clark kent recs

trying to keep up | imagine, smut | @sunsburns

you can hear it in the silence | imagine, fluff | @thebestandworstdayofjune

in today's torch exclusive! | smallville, imagine, fluff | @neilsbeloved

no. 1 party anthem | one shot, fluff | @sunsburns

all american boy | smallville, one shot, fluffy flangst | @scribes-of-valar

neighbor!clark x new girl!reader | series | @svnriseblvdd

too much? | smallville, imagine, flangst | @kjhbsies

in his arms, the world fades | smallville, imagine, fluff, comfort | @deansbeer

in your arms | smallville, imagine, fluff | @wchswift

freak like me | smallville, one shot, flangst | @scribes-of-valar

boy's a liar | smallville, one shot, flangst | @scribes-of-valar

kryptonite kisses | imagine, fluff | @a-romantics-guide-to-life

wait a minute, are you jealous? | drabble, fluff | @hederasgarden

a minute too late | smallville, one shot, flangst | @kjhbsies

sunflowers and warm mornings | smallville, drabble, fluff | @borderlineex

through your glasses | imagine, flangst | @midtalissa

night's so blue | one shot, fluff | @junleb

couldn't make it any harder | smallville, one shot, flangst | @thatfoxygrl

the perfect shot | drabble, fluff | @multi-fandom-imagine

clark kent loves quietly | headcanon, fluff | @thebestandworstdayofjune

told you so | imagine, fluff (slight angst) | @hearts4hughes

quiet mornings in smallville | smallville, drabble, fluff | @borderlineex

'til our fingers decompose, keep my hand in yours | imagine, fluff | @alwritey-aphrodite

he's all that | one shot, fluff | @fawnindawn

the sun | imagine, flangst (more fluff) | @hederasgarden

my hero | one shot, fluff | @jungkooklover777

clark's love language | imagine, flangst (more fluff) | @ilyasorokinn

hypotheticals | imagine, fluff | @street-smarts00

soft boyfriend thoughts | headcanon, fluff | @404superman

#lore: fic recs #tysm op!!!!!

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neilsbeloved · 1 month ago

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currently thinking about: clark kent flashing you right before you head off for work (18+)

it all started with that damn groan. that type of deep, throaty, guttural groan that you can feel in your core every time clark does it.

most of the time it tells you that clark's just woken up, that he had just finished having some fun on dreamland somewhere.

on rare times, it's an intentional way of getting your attention.

seven in the morning, you woke up, slipped away from bed, cooked enough breakfast for you to bring to work, and for clark to eat later when he wakes up. you two work at the same place—the daily planet—although your job position requires you to be at the planet way earlier than him.

you got ready after preparing your lunch. showering alone and getting ready in the other room—which clark had made specifically to be the office-slash-dressing-room for you considering the mountain of clothing you had even when you two were just boyfriends and girlfriends.

when you head back to your shared room to grab your bag and do some last minute checks for your hair and make-up, you hear that groan from behind you.

at first it was nothing. you greet him a good morning, even asking him how his sleep was—just the usual sweet and gooey stuff you two do as newlyweds. but then clark doesn't respond. at least not in a very appropriate way with the way he's still groaning from behind you.

you turn around confusedly, eyes glaring at your husband who seemed to be storing a wicked idea in that head of his.

"i've already cooked you breakfast, clark, make sure you eat some before you come to work, okay?" you remind him, slinging your bag on your shoulder as you spray on some perfume.

clark hums, running his hand down his firm abdomen. "you leavin' already?"

"uh-huh. tess just called and they need me as soon as possible somethin' about the legalities and stuff… whatever that is. i'll probably just skip over it, y'know how tess gets with those legal stuff," you ramble, clipping on your earrings.

you glance at your husband, his eyes still heavy with sleepiness as he had his one arm stretched behind him, the muscles on his neck and biceps flexing naturally.

there's a dryness in your throat and a wetness in your core just from that view. taking everything in you not to just throw tess' request out of the window and jump on your husband's bones first thing in the morning.

you shake those inappropriate thoughts away, blowing off a breath as you looked at yourself through the mirror.

"i'm off now, baby. go and get off your ass now," you walk over to his side of the bed, originally meaning to give him a kiss on the cheek when he moves his head just in time to catch your lips.

a huff leaves your throat, slapping him lightly on his bare chest as you push him away. "clark, i need to head to the office."

the glint in clark's eyes tells you he's not letting you go that easily but the way he pulls away says otherwise. plastering on a lazy smile on his lips as he nods, telling you i love you in his deep and drowsy voice.

you smile, saying the words back before heading to the door.

before you even turn the knob, you hear him call—groan—your name. the very sound making you stop abruptly, hand tightening on the doorknob.

he calls you again. this time, with a bit more strain in his voice.

"clark, what—" the exact moment you turn around, clark's pulled down the covers just below his knee, his cock springing up tall and proud.

you swallow on nothing. "clark."

"yes, baby?" he tilts his head, voice and eyes innocent, contradicting the way his free hand quickly descended down his body and onto the tip of his hard cock. the sheer size of his cock compared to his already massive hand had you subtly squeezing your legs. "i thought you had to go to work?"

your eyes shoot up at his face, the lazy smirk on his lips telling you he's got you exactly where he wants you—frozen by the door, legs clenched, eyes stuck on the lewd movements of his hand.

you blink. "you're an asshole, y'know that, right?"

"i don't know what you're—" he grunts, adjusting himself on the bed as his chest flexes. his features straining when you see his hand smother the pre-cum leaking on his tip down the length of his cock. "—talking 'bout, sweetheart. i'll… i'll be at the office in a few hours."

you sigh, shaking your head irritatedly as you throw your bag on the pile of clothes on the floor. hands quickly unbuttoning your coat and throwing it away too.

clark grins victoriously, moving to the center of the mattress as you come onto the bed. legs immediately going on either side of thighs.

his big, strong hands grabbing at your hips, massaging the clothed flesh before he pulls up your pencil skirt to bunch at your waist. fingers quickly making their way at your center. he chuckles lightly when he feels your wetness already seeping through the cotton fabric of your panties.

you drop your chest down on his, the fabric of your top scratching against his bare skin. he locks his lips onto yours, hungrily nipping at your bottom lip before you let him in without a fight.

your arm reaches down, grabbing a hold of his cock making him chuckles into the kiss. "i thought you had work to do?"

you roll your eyes, letting him adjust the two of you as he sits up so he can rest his back on the headboard. his knees propped up and legs spread apart, giving you enough room to work with. you pull your panties to the side, already angling yourself on the tip when you feel him hold your body.

"baby, it's gonna hurt," he says, the look of lust on his eyes disappearing for a second as his voice drips of concern. "let me eat you out first, c'mon, it'll be quick. get you all nice and—oohh fuck."

clark's offer was cut short when you sink down on his cock, loud gasps slipping from both of your mouths. you drop forward, head on the crook of his neck as you clutched his shoulders, letting your cunt barely adjust to his size.

"you're such an overachiever," clark clicks his tongue, holding onto your sides. feeling the way your sweet cunt pulses around the length of his cock like its begging for more.

the moment the stinging subsides and pleasure starts registering, your hips get to work.

you use his shoulders for leverage as you bounce on his cock, desperately trying to push yourself over the edge, slowly feeling yourself drip down his cock.

"so good, fuck—so fucking big, clark," you moan, pulling your head up to watch his pleasured face. eyebrows knitted, lips freely letting out low grunts. "did dream about me? dreamt about this pussy?"

"yes, shit, i-i dreamt about this goddamn cunt begging for me," he grunts, shifting his hips just slightly. the change in angle making you gasp, your hands falling down to his pecs.

clark leans forward, kissing up your exposed throat as your eyes rolled back. the tip of his cock finding your sweet spot in a moment, hitting it deliciously with each time you drop your ass on his cock. his teeth sinks onto your clavicle, just enough to have you clenching around him.

his hips thrust up as a response, cock twitching inside of you. loud pleads of his name spilled from your lips. using every bit of your energy to keep your pace steady but it was hard when the ache intensifies with each second.

"still got some energy in you, baby? don't wanna tire you out before you—h-head off to work." clark struggles to get his words out, the pleasure making him close his eyes harshly. pulling you impossibly closer as his arms wrap around you.

"should've thought of that before you showed me your cock, pretty boy," you responded, losing your hands in his hair as your hips stutter.

clark laughs breathlessly, littering kisses all over your face now, probably messing up your makeup—not that you cared.

"sorry baby," one hand drops to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh before landing a loud slap on it. you hiss, clenching around him even tighter. "you just looked so fuckin' good… can't—shit," clark stops to rest his forehead on yours, feeling his climax coming, "so good, baby, riding—bouncing on that goddamn cock like you need it."

"i need it," your voice heightens, the feeling in your core tightening. "i need it so bad, clark, fuck me, please—just give it so me."

clark's lips pull to a smirk, both hands now on yours ass before he starts helping you bounce yourself on his cock. every inch, every vein that ran through his cock etching itself on your gummy walls like it was field notes.

your moans turn into incoherent begging, clark's name leaving your lips like a damned prayer as clark himself struggled to keep his moans in.

he continued helping you up and down his cock, meeting your cunt with thrusts of his own. the walls shaking with how harsh he's driving himself into you. he's gripping your ass tightly, cock twitching as you clench uncontrollably.

"don't stop, don't stop—right there! o-oh! clark!"

"yeah? right there, baby?" clark watches as you drop one hand to your chest, fondling yourself shamelessly whole he focuses on fucking you even deeper—harder.

when he feels your legs twitch, threatening to close around his body, he knows for a fact you're close.

clark takes one hand away from your ass and slides it over your slit, expertly finding your clit as he begins to rub messy circles on the bundle of nerves.

you scream, finding every nerve on your body on fire. clark's name bouncing off the walls like a cry for help while clark desperately groaned yours. the lewd sound of skin on skin slamming against each other filling your ears.

one more thrust from clark on that spot and you're spilling hopelessly all over his cock, stars appearing in your eyes as you shook on top of him. shortly after, you feel him slow down, letting you work down your high as you feel his own come paint your insides. the feeling made you moan deeply, your body stiff and eyes rolled back.

clark rolls his hips, kissing all over your cheeks and forehead as he leans back on the headboard. his hands intertwining with yours as he takes you in for a warm kiss—a stark difference from the way he was moving a few seconds ago.

"that was…" clark's breathless, chest heaving up and down. "…wow."

your eyes peel open, clark's fucked-out eyes and disheveled hair making you clench around his length one more time.

"you're driving me to work." you tell him, jabbing a manicured on his chest.

clark laughs when you get off of his lap, your knees nearly giving out, almost falling to the wooden floor if not for clark quickly holding your waist with one hand.

he gives your ass one more slap before he gets off of the bed, towering over you with a lovestruck smile.

"yes, ma'am."

(yes, this is inspired by one of those tiktoks where someone flashes their partner right before they head to work)

#woah #everyone is loving this sm i did not expect that #needy!clark ftw i

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neilsbeloved · 1 month ago

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ummm get the job done was so so so good????? and hot just incredible, i love red k clark and the regret at the end mmmmmm eating it up for breakfast lunch and dinner

AAAAA this is soooo appreciated thank u sm for liking it!!

i originally planned it to have a second part (non-smut) thats like a crack au featuring reader’s older brother (guess who lol) and itd be just funny bickering nd stuff

also that story was stuck in my drafts for like three weekss 😩😩 had to put myself on time out just so i can finish the story

#lore: talks

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neilsbeloved · 1 month ago

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get the job done

summary: every night, clark feels bits of his sanity chip away as he has to involuntarily listen to your moans and whimpers despite being miles away from you. he doubts he can control himself any longer especially with a familiar red stone hanging around his neck.

pairing: red k!clark kent x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ / smut with no plot / oral (f) / dubious consent / use of vibrators / unprotected sex (no male cum) / voyeurism (i think) / overstimulation / inappropriate use of superhuman hearing / size kink / clark competes with a vibrator / competitive clark / mutual masturbation / big dick clark fr / mentions of using somebody’s moans to get off

Clark Kent is the best college roommate you could ever ask for.

He cleaned, he cooked, he has cool parents that always sends him freshly baked goods—and above all, he's always down to get you your art supplies whenever you run out of them in the middle of the night.

Though, you always wondered how he manages to get to the edge of the city then back to the dorm in less than ten minutes. Whenever you did that, it took you at least an hour. You didn't question him about it though, you figured there so much more things to worry about than your roommate being Sonic the Hedgehog's cousin.

Clark could say the same for you.

Never asks questions, keeps your hands to your own things, washes the dishes when it piles up, always offers your help whenever he and his journalist friends needs it—it's a breeze living with you.

Well, almost.

Whenever the clock hits twelve and you bring out your friend from underneath your bed, it's the only time Clark wishes he can fully block out his superhearing; give you your privacy and let him fall asleep without having to hear of your hushed breaths and restricted moaning.

Why not leave? Clark could easily super-speed out of the dorm room then come back after you're done.

He did that before already. Running off to the farm in Smallville to sleep in his own room, barely alerting you that he did. It worked for the first few minutes. He was able to get some quiet, got to close his eyes, relax—everything.

However, just as he was about to fall into sleepland, your voice invades his head again. The intensity of your voice seemingly felt like he's doing it intentionally; zeroing on your voice despite the distance he willingly put between the two of you.

With his cock hardening every second he heard your voice desperately calling for him, he couldn't help but be forced to relieve some of the pressure using your moans, no matter how against the idea he was.

The next night he left the dorm, he tried going as far as the Fortress of Solitude. Sitting just outside of the grand palace, head in his hands, eyes closed thinking he finally escaped the threshold of your sounds.

Unfortunately, that breathy voice of yours saying Keep going, Clark, you're fucking me so well proved him wrong.

Clark strolls back inside of the dorm, bag slung over his shoulders after he had just finished his last class for the day. You immediately appear into his view, nose deep into your drafting table, sparing him a quick glance.

"You don't look nice. Didn't sleep well?" You chime, voice characteristically monotonous.

Clark sighs. His shoulder slumping down as he takes a seat on his desk, rubbing his face in his hands. "Not really. I was caught up on some midterm review last night."

"Midterm review?" You furrow your eyebrows, "Oh! Is that why you weren't here last night?"

"L-last night? I was here." Clark clears his throat.

You scoff, raising an eyebrow as you throw him a look over your shoulder. "Dude, I woke up at like three in the morning and your bed was empty. Hours later you're back on your bed snoring."

He raises an eyebrow at you.

"Don't worry, Clark. You don't have to tell me if you're sneaking out," you say teasingly, only to laugh loudly when you see Clark roll his eyes at you.

Only if you knew what he was doing out of the dorm.

The both of you began working in silence, occasionally bringing up some mundane things to talk about like what the two of you are having for dinner, or if either of you are going to a party you got invited to.

"Why ask me, aren't you and that dude in finance going out?" Clark asks, stretching his arms up while dropping his pen on his notebook.

You grimace, shaking your head. "He spilled coffee on a plate I was supposed to submit."

"That's gotta leave a mark," Clark hoots, throwing you over a look before laughing. Very much entertained at the way you glared at him to shut up. "What'd you do about it?"

"What else was I supposed to do? I left his sorry ass in the cafe, Jesus." You huff irritatedly, scratching the side of your head with the tip of your pencil. "Every man's either stupid or reckless, usually it's both."

"No argument from me there," he responds, reminding you once more why you enjoyed having him as a roommate.

After another round of silence, his phone rings in an awfully loud ballad ringtone.

Whenever that ringtone sounds, you know it's that blonde named Chloe. While in other cases where it's a White Snake ringtone, it's definitely Chloe's cousin Lois. You, on the other hand, picked out the Mario Kart theme song as your designated ringtone after finding out about Clark's little habit of assigning a specific ringtone to a person.

"It's Chloe, she needs me at the Planet." Clark says with a nod, closing his notebooks shut and grabbing his jacket. Before he leaves, Clark calls for you. "Oh—and I might spend the night back at the farm. I need to help my dad out with something so… I'll just bring you some muffins."

When he sees you raise a thumbs up, Clark nods, locking the door shut as he left.

Fuck, Clark, keep going.

Don't stop.

Mhm, just like that!

Your voice rang in his ears. Constant cries of his name falling from your lips like an endless prayer.

Clark's jaw ticks, resisting the urge to let the growl in his throat free as the bartender over the counter looks at him with concern. "You okay, Kal?" The red rings in Clark's pupils flicker dangerously. The Kryptonian downing the shot in one straight swig, barely even affected by the lousy human alcohol.

"Never better," Clark says, jerking his head for another shot.

Yesyesyes—Shit, Clark—

The marble counter cracks under Clark's hold. His eyebrows knitted in concentration as he tried to block out your sounds. As beautiful and dirty they were, this wasn't the time nor the place he should be hearing them.

He swears, one more whimper of his name and he'll—

O-oh! I'm almost there, please…

"Keep it," Clark slams a hundred dollar bill he stole from someone in the club, the bartender looking at him confusedly. Before he gets to ask him, Clark had already dashed away.

When he arrives, his mouth falls open in utter surprise.

You laid there naked, legs spread, your cunt out in display for anyone to see. The pink toy in your hand pressed firmly on the quivering mess in between your thighs. Your cheeks were dusted with color, eyes closed shut, lips wide and spilling all sorts of moans and pleas.

One hand was on the pink toy, the other was busy fondling your breasts. Rolling your firm nipple in between your fingers as the coil in your stomach tightened by the second.

"Oh—mmhm—fuck! Almost there, almost there… godgodgo—" A silent scream breaks through you, your hips stuttering a few times before you ultimately shake on the mattress. Legs clamping around the pink toy as spots of white appeared in your vision.

Clark's name leaves your throat, smothered by the pillow you grabbed beside you.

Then, you hear a voice from the corner: "Aww, c'mon now, angel, don't cover your mouth."

You stiffen, body shooting up in alert. Your eyes drifting to the figure at the corner of the room; his legs were spread apart, big hand holding his even bigger cock as he shamelessly runs it up and down the length. Deep groans emitting from his every movement.

It's Clark, your roommate.

He's jerking himself off in the corner of your damn dorm room.

"What? Don't stop on my accord, angel. Keep going," he shrugs indifferently. Lips pulling into a smile that urges you to continue. "Oh c'mon… do you want me to beg for it, angel? Beg for you to continue pleasuring that little cunt of yours until that gadget finally makes you come?"

Your cheeks heat up with the vulgarity of his words. Clark doesn't even use curse words on a normal day, hearing these stuff come out of him now is bizarre.

"I… I don't know what you're talking about, Clark."

Clark chuckles at you, deep and pointed, letting go of his cock and standing up to start walking towards you. Your legs close out of instinct, nuzzling them both to your chest as Clark sits a feet away from you, right by your feet.

He catches your lust-blown eyes in his, only to glance down on your lips, running his thumb across your bottom lip.

"Angel, let's not fool ourselves here. I know you've been fucking yourself every night thinking of me. Picturing my mouth…" he runs a finger on your exposed knee, "…my fingers…" he flicks his attention back up, noticing the way your breathing slowly clipped and your eyes glued on his member. "…and of course, my cock."

You shake your head at the last bit, trying to get some sense back into your brain. Telling yourself over and over again that this has got to be some sort of nightmare—or dream, actually.

"You think that little toy of yours is enough to satisfy your needs—but no, it's isn't, angel." Clark nears his face to yours, the manly scent of his aftershave invading your senses. "Not even close."

He pulls away with a smirk, enjoying the way your legs clenched together with just his mere words.

"C-Clark…" you breathe out, trying your best to sound composed. But it's hard, especially when your roommate—the very one you've been fantasizing about—is sitting in front you with his hard cock in display. "We shouldn't do this."

The man in front of you scoffs, an air of smugness surrounding him. "Why not?" He asks you softly, "You didn't seem to have a problem crying out my name a second ago."

You open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it.

"I'm betting you anything in the world that if I pry these legs of your apart," he places a hand on your knee, "Your pussy would be dripping wet."

You don't respond anymore—you don't think you can. Your head is spinning with everything that's happening. You just wanted to get your release for the night, not get tangled up with Clark-on-viagra.

But you can't say that it didn't intrigue you.

This version of Clark—the way his voice went deeper than it usually did, the blazing hot presence he carried himself with—you can't say that it didn't make the mess between your legs ache even harder.

The way he watched you like a predator watching his prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce on you—it was fucking hot.

"So what do you say, angel? Are you gonna let me show you how much better I am than that lousy gadget of yours, or are you gonna stick with that?"

Your response? A wordless one as you spread your knees apart, letting him see every inch of you from your glistening cunt to your stiff peaks. Clark's eyes glow red, his sharp canines coming into view as he zeroes in on your puffy clit, begging to be tended to.

"Good choice, angel," he grins, kicking off the rest of his pants before lying down in front of you.

Clark's head is face-to-face with your pussy. His arms wraps around on both of your thighs in a secure grip before he dives in.

His tongue finds your clit with practiced ease, swirling the wet muscled around it, alternating between sucking and licking before you start to feel the tip of his fingers prod at your hole.

"Oh my god," you gasp, the quick rising of your orgasm has you gripping the sheets in ecstasy. "Keep doing that… keep—keep your mouth on that clit, Clark." You feel him chuckle against your pussy, finding the way you're instructing him adorable.

It's not Clark's first encounter with pussy. And it's definitely not Kal-El's too.

He looks at you, making sure you keep your eyes on him before he thrusts one finger inside of you. He barely lets you adjust on his thick finger as he goes right into fucking it in and out of you while he sucked on your clit.

Your legs shake uncontrollably around his face, trying desperately to clamp around his head but his arms are stopping you. The muscles of his biceps flexing harshly.

Clark puts in another finger, testing your hole with his thick fingers as he keeps his eyes locked onto the delicious upturn of your eyebrows. The walls of your shared dormitory now filled with your shameless moans.

"Right there!" You gasp, darting out to grab his wrist as you began meeting his thrusts with your hips. "So… sosososo—fucking good, Clark."

"Yeah? How good?"

"Incredible," you breathe.

The knot in your core tightens, your walls clamps down on his fingers greedily.

"Better than your toy?" He arches an eyebrow.

You don't answer, your mind currently running in circles as you focus on the overwhelming sensation in your pussy.

Clark's eyes narrow, teeth coming in contact with your clit as you writhe. "Asked you a question."

"Better! It's… ohh fuck…" your mouth falls open, feeling the finish line near.

Clark grins, looking at you with satisfaction. "It's about to get better." he flicks his tongue in continuous strokes, making up for the bite before he starts thrusting his fingers into you. Making sure your wetness trails down the fluffy covers of your bed for tomorrow's reminiscing. "Come all over my hand, angel. I want you to make a mess of yourself."

You do as he says, your legs giving out as you feel a rush of pleasure shoot through your core. Your eyes squeezing shut as a broken cry of his name falls from your lips.

Not even a second later, you already feel Clark cleaning you up with his tongue. Greedily licking up every bit of come that oozes out of your hole, caring about nothing else aside from making sure he gets every drop. No matter how hard you pull at his hair, pushing him away from further overstimulating you, it practically does nothing as Clark's strength overpowers you.

Next thing you know, you're convulsing around his tongue again, this time, faster than you ever did on your vibrator.

Your voice is hoarse by the time Clark pulls away from you. Your thighs tensing involuntarily as he finally lets go of his superhuman hold on them. The lower half of his face is drenched in your release, glistening again the smooth skin of his chin.

He moves up to you, hungrily taking you in a lust-filled kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue—sweet, mildly salty, and very messy.

"Not done yet, angel. Fun's just started," he grins, running his tongue over his sharp canines.

God if that didn't make you ache even more.

You let him pull you closer to him, the weight of his cock resting idly on your pussy. The sheer length of his cock making you squirm in place. Clark only chuckles, giving you a few slaps to side of your thighs.

"Don't worry, angel," you start to feel his tip run up and down your slit. Clark's forehead creasing as he dips back down to angle his hips so that your wetness coats the outside of his cock.

You gulp. The air gets knocked out of your chest the moment you feel the first two inches inside of you.

"Oh god," you cry out, holding onto Clark's biceps. "Clark, you're… Fuck—I can't—"

"You can, angel. Just a little more, c'mon. You can take dear ole roommate inside that greedy cunt," Clark grunts, nose scrunching up as he looks at you with nothing but lust.

He pushes in further, and when you've thought his fully inside you, he's still pushing in.

"God, Clark, how fucking big are you?" You can't help but let it out, too overwhelmed by the stretch in your cunt to even care about your words.

Clark smirks, "Big enough for you to take, angel."

You finally feel him bottom out, and it's like your heart shoved up your throat.

"How's it feel, angel?"

Your walls flutter around his cock as a response. A deep growl ripping through Clark's throat the moment you do.

"I'm takin' that as a yes to move, angel. Now, if you wanna be naughty and muffle your moans," he drops his eyes to your swollen lips, "Feel free to bite me."

He begins moving at a brutal pace. Pounding in and out of you with much force that your bed frame's hitting the wall in loud clashes. Clark sucks on his teeth as he goes delirious over your tightness, losing the grip he has on himself the longer that he keeps fucking into you.

"Clark! That… nhhngg—feels so fuckin' good, givin' it to me so—so fucking good baby," you ramble, saying the only words that you know at the moment.

The red rings in Clark's eyes pulses, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure. Losing yourself to the pleasure as sobs of his name fill the small space. He feels more energy surge through his body, fucking his thick cock into you with much more vigor until you feel his balls slap onto your ass with every thrust.

Your core tightens, the knot in your stomach coming way earlier than you want it—you can't stop it, the way Clark's fucking into you in an inhumane pace has you nothing but puddle in his arm.

"O—Oh, Clark! I'm coming!" you sob out, locking your arms around his neck as you feel a sort of chain on it.

Clark's hands moves from the mattress to the side of your neck, using you as leverage to thrust even deeper, groaning deeply each time. "Go on, angel, come for me."

A wave of pleasure—way more intense than before—ripples through you. Your legs shooting up to wrap around Clark's waist as his pace never faltered, continuing the ruthless way his hips crash into yours with abandon

Mindlessly, you tug on the chain around his neck. The pendant on it slipping from the opening of his shirt. Your eyes caught on the red stone pendant, the mere stone glowing just subtly.

Clark looks down, his pupils flaring red the moment he sees the pendant. He turns back to you, watching in satisfaction as you squeeze around his cock like a greedy bitch in heat.

You shake from under him, back arching up into his clothed chest as you release one more time. Clark bites his lips, pulling out of you haphazardly only to feel a gush of your wetness spray onto his cock.

The two of you look down at the same time, seeing the part where you two had connected be drenched with liquid—both yours and his.

Something drops onto your chest, just right above the center of your breasts. When shift your head just subtly, you see a familiar pendant on your bare skin.

"Oh my god…" a shaky voice comes from above you.

There you see Clark, again, only this time he doesn't have that dark and lustful look in his eyes—no, this time, he actually looks shocked.

You shake your head, thinking maybe it's just the orgasm doing tricks on you. But then Clark speaks—

This time, a little less deep and more Clark Kent: "Oh no."

hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! xoxo

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neilsbeloved · 1 month ago

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currently on s2 of supernatural (almost at the end) and it is soooo good,, i rlly needed another long series to start after finishing smallville and supernatural is def a top tier choice for me

i love everything literally from the dialogue, to the banter, to the storyline per episodes—it’s all so entertaining

still writing some stuff for smallville so pls be on the lookout for those 🙂‍↕️ i appreciate everyone that’s still reading my works aaaaa it’s so fun reading everybody’s thoughts on them!! 🩷

#lore: talks #dean winchester my white boy of the month #dean winchester #supernatural

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neilsbeloved · 1 month ago

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AN ANGEL d.winchester

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 4.5K

DEAN WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - You're nervous to lose your virginity, Dean shows you everything that you've been missing out on.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, dom!dean, sub!reader, nervous/shy!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, p!v, teasing, loss of virginity, fingering, hickeys (r.recieving), size kink, praise kink, dean is experienced, reader is inexperienced, (1) thigh slap, big dick!dean, boob fondling, boob sucking, reader is smaller than dean, illusions to past masturbation, reader blushes, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

dean liked having you sat in his lap.

this wasn't the first time, your legs stretched around his waist while your hands scrunched idly at the black shirt he'd been wearing, your lips against his own. making out with you had to be possibly the best thing he'd ever done. it was like getting sent to heaven and back, between each breath he damned the gods that disallowed him to press his lips against yours for forever.

but you were new to all this.

he had to be gentle.

dean was the first real relationship you'd ever had. and if he was being honest, you were sort of the first real relationship he'd ever had too.

he used to hop from girl to girl, bed to bed and not think twice about it. you were the absolute opposite. you were the type of girl that didn't speak unless spoken to, you kept your head down and got through everything without so much as letting your imagination wander with what it would feel like to be with a man.

then you met him.

his hands were pinching at the fat of your thighs, he found it hard to keep his hands to himself when you were like this. between kisses, he could hear the shakiness in your breaths, it drove him unbelievably mad.

you felt almost sorry for dean, knowing it'd taken this long to get comfortable enough to even make out with the man. you knew his history and how he wouldn't go longer than a week without someone in his bed. now he'd went more than three months with you like this, aching for more.

and it wasn't like you didn't want more, believe me, you'd been aching just as horribly.

you were just... scared?

deans hands moved harshly against your skin, right hand coming down to gently slap your thigh before gripping it once again. the feeling prompted a low whimper to leave your lips.

dean almost groaned. he could get used to hearing noises like those.

when the man pulled away from your lips, heavy breaths still leaving his own, you swore you could have whimpered again just from the loss of contact.

he looked down at you, eyes all blown wide, lips slick and swollen, it was a sight he hoped was never erased from his memory. he wanted to remember this forever. "y'so needy." he had that cocky grin on his lips, cocking his head to the side as he viewed you as a whole, all his, right in his lap for the taking.

you felt your cheeks get hot at the sentence, eyes immediately darting anywhere other than his face. "don' be mean." was the mumble you let out, eyes adverting and voice lowering. you weren't able to talk to him, not when he got like this, all 'bigger' than you, it made you feel small, it made you feel wet.

"'m not, 'm not." he spoke with a low chuckle, one of his hands raising to meet your face, you felt the padding of his thumb wipe across your hot cheeks, he could tell you were nervous. then again, you were always so nervous. "i think it's cute."

again, your face got increasingly hotter but dean didn't leave you any room for words, dipping his head so his lips could meet your neck.

there was something so surreal about being like this, your hands gripping at his shirt, top lip clamped down on your bottom as he kissed against the skin of your neck.

again, this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. makeouts and hickey-leaving was getting more and more natural in your relationship, common, even.

he'd come home from his hunts with sam and all he'd want was you either below or on top of him, his lips against anything they could reach.

you felt his lips part, sucking against your neck as one hand ran up your back, the other cupping the back of your hair. once he sucked, his tongue would smooth over the skin, pleasure to ease the pain. and he'd go again, gradually moving to different places on your neck. marking you.

your own lips were strewn shut, you were hoping and praying on every star that you didn't let a noise slip from you. you were too nervous, too embarrassed but the whole point of this was to feel good, wasn't it? so why did you feel so embarrassed to show him how good it felt?

your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling suddenly overwhelming.

you didn't register the move of your hips until his lips left your neck and his hands clamped down on your waist, low grunt leaving his mouth.

you stared at him with those big eyes and he swore he was gone. "y'can't do that, sweetheart." despite his words, his tone was gentle. "can't start something if you don't want to finish it."

he knew how inexperienced you were, he thought you wanted to hold off on losing your virginity which is why he'd never made such a move but by the way you were looking at him now, he swore you wanted nothing more than for him to take you.

and he'd gladly do so upon your command.

"i do..." you uttered. ".. want to." the words made your insides twinge, made your nose scrunch and your lips purse.

you were too nervous, shaking like a leaf on top of him. even so, with so much anxiety bottled into a human, dean made no movements of caution.

you sort of liked that dean wasn't as awkward or nervous as you were. dean was confident, that much was for sure. but being so confident also gave him this openness, seeping comfort into your veins as his large, warm hands trailed up and down your thighs.

"yeah?" his voice was breathy and his smile had left his features. he didn't need to be so teasing now, he knew you would simply burst of shyness. and he didn't want you in a position of uncertainty. "what d'you want?"

he wasn't trying to tease you, though he knew his fingers that began to dance against your skin were doing nothing to calm your nerves.

he just needed to hear you say it.

you planted your face into his chest with an incoherent mumble, cheeks alight as flames.

dean could have laughed at you but he didn't want you thinking you'd done something wrong. on the contrary, he found it downright adorable how shy you'd been getting. but you couldn't help it, this was such an unfamiliar feeling bubbling in your stomach.

"can't hear you, sweetheart." his head came down to sit atop yours, his voice a gentle whisper. "i need you to tell me what you want, okay?" his free hand tipped your chin upwards to look at him, those pretty green eyes held so much sincerity. "use your words f'me, baby."

words felt stuck in your throat, you couldn't seem to get them out. but dean didn't want to let this get away from him, he steadied your chin between his fingers.

"i want..." your voice was all breathy, all needy. it had dean reeling. "i want you to touch me."

and as the words passed your lips, you swear all the air was knocked from your lungs. listening to yourself talk had made your head feel fuzzy. before dean, you couldn't have even imagined such words leaving your lips.

dean was struggling to compose himself but nonetheless, he did. his lips quirked into this proud yet sly smirk as his fingers ran up and down your thighs. "where, angel? here?" he practically mocked, fingers against your knee.

at this point, dean had never seen an angel, he didn't believe in them. but he was sure that if angels did exist, you had to be one of them.

you could have corrected him verbally, told him to stop teasing or even scolded him for mocking you while you were all worked up like this. but instead, you chose to grasp his bigger hand in your own and trail it towards your core.

as your hand cupped his own, he could feel them shake, he almost cooed at you but he didn't want to make you more nervous than you already were.

but when his hand finally reached your clothed core, he couldn't help but let out a groan.

it didn't take longer than a second for dean to have you flipped over with your back against the mattress of the bed. a noise left your lips as he towered over you, that infamous smirk etched to his lips.

but a type of seriousness washed over him. "are you sure you want this?"

you knew he wasn't asking you to tease you or make you wait, he was being sincere and you couldn't have been more sincere back by bucking your hips with a low whine of the word, "yes." quickly followed by a "please."

"so needy." he mumbled back, lips moving to your neck while his fingers fumbled at the cotton material of your baby blue sleep shorts. he hooked his fingers around the waistband and tore it off skilfully.

he supposed his experience was paying off.

you didn't have any time to counter what he'd said, too focused on the feeling building in your stomach. much of it was worry, anxiety even but the majority of it was this foreign, amazing feeling.

"fuck." his ring clad fingers circled against your panties. you were suddenly hyper aware of how worked up you'd gotten while making out with him, a blush creeping in on your face as you turned away from him.

dean all but tutted, dragging your face back.

"don't get shy on me now, sweetheart. This wet for me, the least you can do is look at me." he had that empowering stare that told you he was in charge here, it had you shrinking further into the mattress.

but dean wasn't demanding, sure he was dominating but he didn't make you uncomfortable. truthfully, you'd been rather scared of getting this far with anybody but you were sure that if there was anybody you wanted it to be with, it was him.

his hands toyed at waistbands of your panties. "this okay?" his eyes were glued to your face, trying to watch every way your face contorted, making sure you were okay.

believe it or not, there was a lot one could tell from just looking at someone.

you nodded your head briskly, darkened and bitten lips parted slightly, covered in the slick left behind from your tongue. your cheeks had turned a darkened colour too, blush spreading across your face.

there was something so surreal about looking at you like this, knowing nobody else ever had. he pulled the panties down your legs, watching you steadily with his own lips parting open. his eyes moved from yours to trail down your body, landing on your sopping core. he couldn't help but breathe in a breath.

"you're so pretty, angel." he moved his hand upwards again, closed fingers gently toying with your clit, which earned a soft gasp from you. his lips quirked as he brought his hand away, using the other to slip off his ring. he took your wrist, holding it up gently. "take care of this for me, yeah?" you nodded as he slipped the ring onto your thumb, seeing as your other fingers wouldn't fit it. "good girl." he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

he was suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you were a virgin.

now, dean wasn't necessarily put off by the fact that you were a virgin. dean couldn't have cared less what you were. but he needed to make sure he was gentle, more so than any other time.

because he was the first, the one you'd remember forever.

though, he intended to be your very last, too.

his fingers trailed across your pretty tank top, down to your hips and finally edging between your legs. he peppered kisses against your face and down across your jaw, finally landing on your neck, fingers pushing your legs apart with ease.

as shy as you were, you didn't hide from him, you allowed him to part your legs, his hand was against your inner thigh, softly soothing up and down against your skin.

but he had to make sure, before he touched you. "sure this is okay? not having second thoughts?"

of course dean wanted to but he only wanted to if you wanted to. but you nodded anyway, swallowing though your mouth was dry anyway. "'m just nervous." you admitted softly.

it was no secret to dean that you were a nervous creature already. he knew this was all new to you but he didn't want you to feel shy around him. "you don't need to be." he pressed a kiss against the supple of your cheek, hand moving further as you let out a shaky breath. "not with me." as the whisper left his mouth, his hand came up to touch your hot core.

the noise that left your mouth should have embarrassed you but right now, you couldn't think of anything other than the feeling of his hand right where you needed him.

he collected your wetness onto his fingers, spreading it up and down your folds, two fingers parting from the rest as he gently eased them into your hole.

heavy breaths suddenly left you, chest rising and falling while dean's face was practically hidden in your neck, peppering kisses, sucking and licking against the soft skin while his fingers settled inside of you.

he gave you hardly any time to adjust to the feeling, pulling them out and then thrusting them right back into you. "you're so warm, sweetheart." he mumbled in slight awe. suddenly, the image took over his mind, the image of him inside of you. he couldn't seem to wipe it away.

he knew that giving yourself to him even just like this was a lot for you, he didn't want to push you any further than he already had tonight.

however, the image still tainted his memory.

as the speed of his fingers increased, so did the volume of your noises.

a sticky, wet sound bounced from wall to wall, causing your cheeks to warm incredibly further. you flushed, your own hand coming up to cover your mouth, suddenly aware of how loud you'd been.

a coo left his lips, free hand coming to drag your wrist away from your mouth. "wanna hear every noise you can make, angel."

and his words alone made you whimper.

the palm of his hand bounced against your clit with every thrust of his hand, emitting these noises from you that you'd never been able to draw from yourself.

"y'sound so pretty, you know that, baby?" you made a noise to show you were listening, though all it told dean was that you felt good. "look so pretty too. so beautiful. all mine."

dean couldn't keep his hands to himself.

his free hand dragged against your skin, pushing at it as if trying to get closer to you in any way possible.

against his fingers formed a creamy ring. he looked down at his digits sliding in and out of you, wetness surrounding you both, keeping you together by a wet string.

he let his thoughts wander.

as evil as it was, he simply couldn't think of anything else, he imagined it was his dick sliding in and out of your hot, wet hole, the noises you'd make would be so much louder, you'd be so much fuller.

then he was suddenly aware of your experience once again.

you were tight, incredibly tight which only made him scissor his fingers. if you were going to take his dick, he needed to stretch you out first.

"dean!" you spluttered out as he scissored his fingers inside of you. "c-cant."

your hips bucked backwards, as if you were trying to tell yourself to stop, but it felt too good to stop.

and dean knew your body well, more than you knew it apparently for he only tutted, holding your wrist in his free hand. "you can take it baby, there you go." and he must have known what was happening because your insides were turning to mush.

you'd orgasmed by yourself before but this? this was true bliss.

he held your waist down to the mattress as your body squirmed, head falling back into the pillows as his name fell on your lips, moans and whines blissfully leaving your slick lips.

"good girl." he mumbled, pressing kisses anywhere his lips could reach. "you're so good, there you go. atta girl."

his words of praise fell on your lips, only making you squirm impossibly more. but nonetheless, he kept up his pace, fingers moving to help you ride out your high.

dean swore he'd never seen something so beautiful.

he watched in awe, staring at the way your face scrunched up, pretty lips parted and your eyes screwed closed, though he could only imagine you were seeing stars behind your lids, not that he was being cocky or anything.

the sight was pure bliss, angelic, even.

he swore he'd been to heaven and back, just watching your face contort.

and he'd watch it forever, if he could.

he was suddenly aware of how tight his jeans felt.

"i need to fuck you." he was mumbling with a slight neediness in his tone, kissing up and down your throat, his hand only coming to a halt when your own practically pushed it away, the overstimulation becoming too much. "can i?" a beat passed. "please?"

his face rose to meet yours and you stared at him, all blissed out. you swore that his fingers were the most skilled, pleasurable feeling you'd ever felt, much better than to how it felt when you'd done it by yourself. your lips were glossed over, heavy pants leaving your chest. huge eyes and flushed cheeks.

almost a whine of the phrase, "uh-huh." passed your lips.

and it was enough for him.

his lips crashed into your own, kissing you ever so softly, though there was passion hidden somewhere between your heavy breaths.

needy hands pawed at the end of his black shirt, his own hands reached down to cup yours, helping you tear it off of his body. his amulet dangled downwards, just below your face and he was suddenly very aware of the fact that your top was still on. he supposed he'd been too focused on making you feel good to realise.

his hands reached the end of your own top, helping you push it over your head.

no words left his lips but they parted, tongue passing over the bottom one as he stared.

your pink bra was so pretty on you he almost had to think to decide whether or not he wanted to keep it on. but he decided with the latter, hands unhooking your bra skillfully, as if he'd done it a thousand times before.

he hardly got to see your boobs, for his hands cupped them as soon as they were let out of the bra. he cursed out a grunt under his breath, one hand leaving your breast so his mouth could replace it.

against the mattress, your back arched, stomach against his own while you bit back the pretty whimpers which he yearned to hear. his mouth worked against you, rolling his tongue back and forth, practically flicking your nipple in his mouth making you unable to contain the sounds you so desperately tried to keep back.

"d―dean!" you spluttered, eyes fluttering shut. his own eyes looked up at you, watching your face contort once again.

he had to have you.

as his face left your chest, a string of spit connected your boobs to his lips.

he wiped it away, though nothing could wipe away that smut smirk he held. nonetheless, he helped himself to shimmying out of his jeans, taking his boxers off with it.

it wasn't until he took everything off that reality set in. you stared, eyes blown wide, he was, well... big. and it was sort of hard not to get nervous, even with the fact that his fingers had just been stuffed inside of you, you weren't so sure it was going to fit.

"you okay?" he leaned down, towering over you. he realised your eyes hadn't moved from his dick, pulling your chin up with his two fingers. "are you sure you want this?"

you nodded your head, thoughts a mere muddle of clouds. "i just... 'm nervous." you admitted, feeling your stomach fill with this fuzzy feeling that you only got when you talked to dean.

"you don't have to be nervous, sweetheart, not with me, okay?" the palm of his hand rested on your face. "do you want this?"

"yes." you answered without a beat.

"promise?" you could have melted right then and there. dean winchester was of many things but above all, he was gentle.

"promise." you mumbled, finding yourself relaxing just at the mere sound of his voice. his hand trailed up to find your own, fingers interlocking yours. his free hand moved down to his dick, pressing it in his hand.

you watched with curiosity yet also nervousness. you'd never seen this done in real life, so the shyness was creeping in as you watched him move his hand up and down his shaft, dragging it towards your wet hole. instantly, a sound left your lips, blush instantly creeping in as your eyes snapped up to him. he only smiled gently at you, finding your shyness rather adorable.

the head of his dick slowly pushed inside of you and that alone had you feeling awfully stretched. he wasn't just long, he was thick too meaning he stretched you out completely. "okay?" you nodded at the sound of his question, the feeling of his lips on your cheek moments after. "'s gonna hurt a little, alright?"

you nodded your head, eyes shutting closed as you braced yourself.

you weren't an idiot either, you knew first times were supposed to hurt but luckily for you, you had dean right there, holding one of your hands tight in his own, soft whispers and kisses against your skin.

what more could you really ask for.

he slowly eased himself inside of you, worried he was hurting you. then again, there wasn't really any other way to get inside without hurting you. he watched as your face contorted, a gentle whimper leaving your lips but he knew it wasn't one of pleasure, more of pain, actually.

he mumbled gentle apologies and left a trail of them in kisses from your neck to your cheeks.

finally, he was in completely and he couldn't help the string of curses that he mumbled under his breath.

dean stayed as still as he could. worry set in, he didn't want to hurt you, not when you'd been so nervous in the first place. he'd been with many girls but you were a tight fit around him, swallowing his dick whole. he couldn't help but almost coo at the way your hole clenched around him.

he felt your hips shift, and he knew you were ready. "can i―fuck, sweetheart, can i move?"

again, you nodded with a subtle whine that told him in other words, yes, he absolutely could move. and that was exactly what he did.

he slowly pulled his dick out from inside you then suddenly slammed his hips back in, his dick hitting the spot deep inside your walls. instantly, he was met with a mewl.

"shit." he uttered, wanting to draw as many sounds like that out of you as he could. his two hands now rested on yours tightening his grip as he placed them over your head so he could gain better access. "oh, fuck, sweetheart, you're so fucking pretty."

it seemed as though dean had the mouth similar to a sailor when put in a position like this.

but he couldn't help it, you were staring at him with those doe eyes, pretty noises falling from you. his hips moved with ease, slamming in and out of you, it didn't take him long to pick up the pace either.

your legs lifted to surround his waist, moans leaving the two of you as his hips slammed inside of you.

"shit, you're so good for me." he was a mumbling mess, he meant every word of what he said, though he wasn't too sure what was leaving his lips as of now. "oh, my sweet girl, thaaat's it."

he tipped his head forward, connecting his forehead to your own. your whimpers and whines were swallowed by a kiss, gentle yet so full of neediness, it was exactly what you wanted.

"feels..." you mumbled once your lips had parted, though you were sort of dazed, not all the way there. "feels so good."

"good girl, 's it, take it all." you felt his hand suddenly trail down, fingers soft against your clit while his dick still hot between your gummy walls. "'s okay, you're okay."

you shook your head, swallowing thickly as your hips bucked. "'s―'s too much!" you panted out, moans leaving you as if you couldn't keep them inside.

"you can take it, baby, know you can." but he could tell by the way your face twisted again, you were close.

and so was he.

"you gonna let go f'me? huh?"

at this point, your eyes had fluttered shut and you lips were parted as you nodded, brows strewn together. "gonna... 'm gonna cum, dean."

"that's my girl." he answered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "cum all over my dick f'me, sweetheart."

you supposed you were more obedient than you thought.

dean watched as you squirmed and moaned, eyes screwed shut as you finally let go around him. he could feel your gummy walls squeezing him tighter, a ring of slick had formed at the base of his dick. the mere sight, his dick still stuffed inside your cunt and you, cumming all over him.

well, it was enough to have any man weak.

which was why he'd finished so quickly, too.

after all, he'd been holding on since you were sat on his lap.

and that one feeling, cumming in your wet, hot walls and watching you with that pretty, stricken and worn out face as you came on him too... he swore he had really been to heaven and back.

when you both rode out your highs, he laid himself on the bed next to you, watching as you reached your hand up, playing with his silver ring that sat on your thumb.

he swore he was staring at an angel.

main masterlist/dean's masterlist

#lore: fic recs #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester smut

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neilsbeloved · 1 month ago

Text

i was made for lovin' you.

OR after years of unsaid emotions, supressed feelings and goddamn urges— you and dean finally confront the thing you'd both been avoiding: how there's so much you wanna do in the darkness. and you're gonna make all come true. tonight.

my masterlist

「 pairing 」 : dean winchester x fem ! reader

「 word count 」 : 5.6 k.

「 content / warnings 」 : MINORS LOOK AWAY !!!, lateish seasons (if you squint) dean winchester x reader's first time (not virgins though), unprotected (mostly) soft sex with feelings, feelings, feelings!, aka porn WITH plot!, p in v, handjob, dean being a munch ofc (this is canon. go argue with the wall.), swearing. please let me know if i missed anything!

𖤐 ────────────────────────

from the moment you first met dean winchester while working a case, you knew you wanted to fuck him.

which was a little strange, because you didn't think like that outright about too many men— not ones you knew in real life, anyway.

but here the stupid bastard was, with his annoyingly pretty face and those stupid, big, rough fightin' hands that could touch you everywhere, pull the prettiest sounds right from you—

oh, we're getting way too far ahead of ourselves. you shoved those thoughts away. come on, this was a freakin' case. lives were at stake.

and once the initial secret lust you had finally went away, you realized you were experiencing something much greater than some stupid crush on dean.

because the more hunted with him, you got to see not just the tough, hard-as-nails side of him— but you saw the other side.

his people side.

you got to see the way he interacted with every single person he encountered on a case, not resting until the threat was completely gone and ganked. and sometimes, when a case hit too close to home, he treated victims and affected family no less than his own fuckin' family.

and you knew from your own personal experience that he'd do just about damn near anything for the family he did have. saw the way he got all soft and sweet around kids— and after a good while, even around you.

and that's when you knew you were in trouble.

you'd known dean for years now. and nothing had ever come of you two except him being one of the greatest friends you'd ever had.

but god help you if you didn't want more.

and nothing like a quick fuck, either. no, you wanted to be there for everything— even on those deathly-quiet nights when dean's thoughts got too loud and the debilitating weight he was carrying all alone just got too heavy, you wanted to be the one keeping him afloat.

it was something dangerously close to love.

you tried to ignore it at first. push it down. and it did work-- for a while. until fucking dean started acting weird around you, too.

and now things were... complicated.

you didn't know exactly when things had shifted so much to the point that it almost became unbearable to even be in the same room as dean without either of you knowingly holding back just spilling your guts-- but god, it was worse than dying.

inevitably, one night, it all just snapped.

there was no dramatic fight, or screamed confessions from either of you. no, it happened late in the darkness, when you both were sharing a motel room.

which would have made you fond of all the times you guys had shared motel rooms in the past— you would've smiled at the thought of younger you trying to make the most out of the fact that you had to share a room with a fucking boy.

but dean was now much more of a man than ever before now.

thank god there's two separate beds, you initially thought.

now, though? there wasn't a need for two beds anymore.

because you still somehow ended up in dean's that was closest to the window.

in his lap.

and kissing him.

you were sure you were in just another one of your dreams or fantasies you conjured up to get off— but you could feel dean's hands on you through your shirt, grasping at the fabric. so this had to be real— but just for precaution, you roll your hips into dean's a little.

yeah. that sound he made when he grinds his hips up into your own was definitely real— and right in your mouth.

you knew you were probably moving too fast— but fuck if you cared. your hands sneak in between you both and trail downward on the front of dean's shirt, not stopping until you reach the hem— and your voice is a whisper against dean's kiss-swollen lips.

"arms up, de."

and dean obliges in a heartbeat, raising his arms up over his head immediately— and he's silently praising the fact he decided to just wear a t-shirt to bed.

you actually somehow had only seen dean shirtless once or twice over the years— the latest being last summer when the air conditioning in the bunker was broken, and you conveniently and hurriedly stated that you had to stay in your room the entire day—because it was so much more skin than you were used to seeing.

but now?

you're staring.

dean's looking at you looking at him— and if the motel room wasn't so dark, you could've sworn his face got a little pinker under your gaze.

but you don't dwell on that for too long. because your hands are itching to reach out and just touch— and the moment your fingers start to graze on dean's biceps first, his eyes flutter shut and he lets out a shaky exhale, fighting to keep himself under control.

because it's you that's touching him.

you're still touching him when you lean back and kiss his lips again— and dean is very aware of the fact that you still have your shirt on.

but you have to break the kiss after a while to get stupid air— and your hands are reluctantly taken off of dean's skin, much to his protest. but the words he was about to say die in his throat when he sees where your hands were going.

you grasp the hem of the oversized shirt you were wearing, tearing it over your head and discarding it in the same motion— all while you were silently thanking whatever had possessed you not to wear shorts to bed.

or a bra.

and now, dean thinks he might die.

it was his turn to stare, eyes raking and flicking over every inch of you as you're straddling his lap like he didn't know where to look first— and dean's just so in awe, he says what he was thinking out loud in a barely-audible.

"god, you're beautiful."

you can feel a blush burning your cheeks at dean's words-- and judging by the way his eyes widened ever so slightly when he uttered those words, you knew he meant it. you smile softly down at him, your voice just as quiet as his once was.

"you're not so bad, yourself.''

and that makes the corner of dean's lips turn up in a small, soft smirk. god, he loves you. and he's gonna show you that.

all night long.

dean starts with his hands, the rough callouses trailing up your thighs, hips, waist, stomach, tits, arms, back— fucking everywhere on your bare skin as he stares up at you.

but your hands move on dean, too— touching him everywhere you could reach before you go lower, your fingers grazing on the waistband of his boxers— but you look back up at him again, a silent question in your eyes.

dean looks confused for half a second— until he realizes you're asking for permission. then he nods, his heart feeling warmer than it was before.

you tear his boxers off in one fell swoop— and holy goddamn.

you stare— again. and dean's fighting the urge to roll you over onto the mattress and just taking you.

instead, he forces himself to stay still under you— because the urge to do that and see what you do next is stronger.

dean's smirking up at you. the damn idiot. and then he quietly murmurs out—

"your turn."

you'd almost forgotten you still had your underwear on— oh, but dean didn't forget. the speed at which you yank down the fabric and discard it somewhere in the motel room should be a world record.

you look back down at dean again when you get situated back on his lap— but he's not looking at you anymore.

no, the man gulps at the sight of your pussy being exposed to him— and it takes him a while to look back up at you, his voice low and rough.

"c'mere."

you obliged, one of your hands reaching down and grasping dean's own that had been resting on your thigh.

this was new. oh, so new. dean wasn't new to you by any means, and that familiarity, that bond was still there— but he was new in this sense. this was different.

this was real.

dean was a man who rarely ever got what he really wanted— so you wanted dean to get whatever he wanted out of what was about to happen between the two of you.

"tell me what you want, dean," your voice is a mere whisper. "tell me what you want me to do, and i'll do it."

dean really thinks you should be illegal. you're all he's ever wanted—and you're asking him what he wanted.

he doesn't answer right away— dean's eyes rake over your naked form in his lap, and he's got his hands resting on your thighs as he meets your gaze once more.

"touch me."

you knew what dean meant by that. dean knew what he meant by that. and you both were fully aware of the line you were about to cross. but you weren't even nervous. and neither was he.

so take your hands, reaching down and trailing a path on dean's lower torso before you take him all in your hands.

and dean thinks he might die.

again.

because you start stroking him slowly— you weren't an idiot, you knew if you went too fast at first, it would hurt dean like a motherfucker rather than feel good.

and you're just looking at him, reading his reactions, making sure that it feels good.

all dean can get out at first is your name. he had opened his mouth to say something, but that's all that came out in a broken groan. he's letting out these little broken noises of pleasure— and his head has to fall back on the shitty motel room’s headboard so he doesn't cum right there.

you keep your pace of your hand on dean's dick steady, only increasing the intensity after a few moments when you can tell he needed more— by the way he gripped onto your hip, his rough fingers curling into the meat of your skin— and by the way he was fighting back the moans that had been treating to escape his throat.

it was definitely embarrassing how close dean was to cumming already, he knew that. but he also knew it was because it was you who was bringing him there. not some quick fuck with a chick he'd met that night, or his own hand— no.

it was yours.

and that thought combined with the way you're still looking at him— in awe, like he's something out of a museum, gets him way closer to the edge you were guiding him to.

"i'm— fucking christ, jesus—"

your name along with the man upstairs' son had come out of dean's mouth in a desperate attempt to warn you that he was right there, all because of you.

"i gotcha, dean," you whisper, and your free hand not jerking him off reaches to cup the side of his face as his head's tilted up towards you.

"just let it happen."

and that does it for him.

dean cums hard, his hands clutching on your thigh and part of your hips with all he's got, gasping and groaning, letting little out broken moans the whole way down.

you just guide dean through it with your hand, watching him under you as his skin was all flushed and red now, hair sticking up everywhere (courtesy of your hands), his pupils blown out and half-lidded before shutting fully.

"y'okay?" you whisper, your eyes flicking over dean under you. his own eyes continued to be closed— and you take that time to grab a tissue from the nightstand, wiping your hand clean before looking back and giving dean your full attention.

your other hand was still on his face, your thumb grazing on his cheek now, and for a split second, you almost think dean must not have liked it, or you went too far, because he wasn't saying—

"holy shit."

the curse leaves dean's mouth as his eyes open— and all he can do is reach his free hand up that wasn't grasping yours between the two of you already and rest it on the one cupping his face.

you can't even open your softly smiling mouth to respond, because the next words are coming out of dean's mouth, his voice still raw and rough from the way you just broke him apart.

"you know what i wanna do right now?"

you tilt your head a little to the side, still looking down at dean below you with his back resting against the headboard as you so desperately wanted to know.

"what?"

dean's downright devilish smirk reappears— and his eyes flick down to your almost dripping pussy that was spread as you straddled his legs before looking back up at you, his voice still rough as ever.

"I wanna taste you."

and a strangled sound gets stuck in your throat at the mere thought of dean eating you out. maybe it was a little embarassing how breathless your voice sounded when you leaned just a fraction closer to him.

"then go ahead."

an actual growl escapes dean at that— and you don't need to tell the man twice. he's got you flipped over and pinning you down, your scorching back hitting the cold motel sheets before you can even blink. you stare up at him when he hovers over you, both hands on the sides of your head, holding him up— and he's just looking at you.

but dean doesn't stay like that for too long. his lips hit your neck immediately after he leans down enough— and he starts just attacking at your skin, nipping, biting, sucking— he draws a path all the way down, until he reaches your now sopping pussy.

dean changes his position when he does, spreading your slick inner thighs further apart and settling between your legs, wrapping a strong arm around the meat of your thighs.

but he hesitates for a brief moment. he likes eating out pussy, but did you enjoy it? his pussy-drunk eyes flick up to yours— and you're a sight all spread out for him, your back against the pillows and sitting up a little so you could watch.

"i ain't gonna be gentle. y'know that, right?"

you knew that dean had always been considerate of you, long before this night— for as long as you'd known him, for that matter. but hearing him tell you that he didn't want to be gentle made your gaze soften and a smile tug on your lips as you nodded in response.

"yeah, i know."

and in that moment, dean thinks he loves you.

well, in all actuality, dean knows he loves you— but seeing you all soft and just so goddamn pretty in the moonlight that's filtering in through the motel room window, he's well aware of the blessing that's before him.

dean gives you one last smile— softer this time. then he dives in, burying in his face and going at you full force, his tongue flat and working against your puffy, slick folds before letting out a groan that vibrates everything.

and dean was right.

he was not gentle about it.

your eyes threaten to flutter shut as dean's tounge works on you— but you force them to be half-lidded as you look down at the sight of dean eating you out like a starved man.

and he's looking right back at you as he does it.

your hand flies to grasp onto dean's that was still resting on your thigh as his mouth continues to attack you— and he gladly takes it in his, not faltering his pace once.

you couldn't help but bite down hard on your bottom lip, attempting to contain the moans and noises that were threatening to spill out of you— and dean isn’t having it.

“nuh uh, darlin’,” dean shakes his head between your thighs, talking right into your pussy between flicks of his tongue on your clit. “i wanna hear you— wanna hear how goddamn good i’m makin’ ya feel right now.”

and with that, your mouth drops open almost immediately. it's like a switch flipped in you— and the first moan you let out is his fuckin' name.

"dean..."

christ on a cross. dean had wanted to hear just anything come out of your pretty mouth, but his name being the first thing on the tip of your tongue does things to him.

dean's imagined you moaning his name countless times, of course, but nothing can compare to the real you right now— tits heaving, groaning and eyes fluttering a little each time he brushes on a few sensitive spots on your pussy with his tongue.

now, it's embarrassing how close you are to cumming on dean's tongue. and oh, he notices. he holds your bucking and writhing hips down with his free hand that's not grasping and holding onto yours—

and goes to fuckin' town.

"fuck— dean!" you think you're gonna pass out— because you could barely hear the sounds of dean slurping up your juices and sucking on your clit when you cum without warning, back arching off of the sheets and grinding into his tongue, your grip on his hand becoming almost bruising as the pleasure cascades over you in waves.

dean doesn't look away from you for a second as your pussy flutters on his tongue, moving his mouth slower once more to not let a drop of you go to waste, making sure you're completely spent, pulling soft groans and gasps from your lips.

your legs tremble and shake under the arm that dean had wrapped around your thigh— and he takes a second to just watch you in the post-orgasm state you're in.

"y'okay?" dean's voice is rough but soft at the same time, looking up at you from his position between your legs like you're the night sky itself.

you open your eyes again, lifting your head off of the pillows just enough to see dean's eyes looking right back at you— and oh, he's a sight, his lips, nose and chin absolutley covered in your slick— and his hair's even more messy than before now.

"yeah", you breathe out softly, managing a nod against the pillows. "yeah, i'm all good. c'mere."

dean sees the soft look in your eyes— and his own gaze melts as he obeys, lifting off of the mattress and out from between your legs to hover over you, your faces just inches apart again.

dean can't look away.

and he never wants to.

"you're goddamn gorgeous, y'know that?" dean murmurs as he looks down at your moonlit face.

at that, you reach your hand up in the distance between you two, cupping the side of dean's face— and his head immediately leans into your touch before you whisper back.

"and you're perfect, dean."

dean's chest tightens at that— and his gaze somehow softens even more. no one's ever called him perfect before, and he couldn't think of one person in his life who even believed that to be true.

but you were looking at dean like he was.

you notice dean's reaction immediately— it was hard not to with how close you were.

you meant those words you said to dean— because being perfect wasn't about having absolutely no flaws or weaknesses.

it was about knowing that, and still carrying on anyway.

and then it clicks. because you could talk all you wanted to dean.

or you could show him how perfect he was.

"lemme show you," you whisper before dean could even open his mouth to deny it. "let me show you how perfect you are, dean."

and those words are completely breaking down what little resistance dean had left. his eyes actually get a little misty as he’s looking down at you— because he can't believe you're here, telling him everything he's never heard before.

dean nods— and his voice is shaking with anticipation mixed with pure awe.

"yeah. yeah, okay."

and that's all you needed. you look at dean's face one last time before lifting your head to close the little distance between the both of you, kissing him with everything you had to give him.

you didn't kiss dean like before— that was in a state of pure lust, desire, and want. now, you're kissing him softer, slower, and with purpose.

and purpose was exactly what dean needed. he tries to keep himself upright and hovering over you, but the way you're kissing him has his arms trembling as you're literally melting him.

you only take my lips off of dean’s when the air he and you had been breathing through your noses wasn’t enough— and your thumb grazes on his cheek again as his forehead rests on top of yours, eyes fluttering a little as i whisper against his lips.

“lay down for me.”

you don't have to say it again. dean obliges in a heartbeat, lifting off of you and rolling onto his back in one fluid motion— and you follow behind, tossing your leg over his to straddle him once more

dean’s hands go to your hips once you’re straddling him, looking up at you now— he still looks a little wrecked from earlier, and his chest is rising and falling in a slower, steadier rhythm than before, like he’s trying to calm himself down.

but seeing your naked form straddling him like this once more is just making his heart start to thump against his chest— again.

your hands find dean’s own on your hips,your fingers trailing on his skin, grazing past his wrists and up his arms— you're not exactly slow, but you're also not very fast with it, either.

no, you take your time touching dean all over again, fingertips tracing over every scar and dent you could see and feel as you're straddling him. your eyes flick up to his face, meeting his gaze once more— but you just keep touching him.

"oh, look at you," your voice is an awed whisper while your hands move on dean’s chest, grazing on the anti-possession tattoo he had on his skin. "see? you’re perfect."

and dean can’t help the little shiver your touch brings him right now, even though he's literally just laying below you, half-propped up by the pillows like you once were. he just can’t help it, because you’ve always been able to get the best reactions out of him.

dean swallows hard as your hands continue their journey over his body— your fingertips roaming over his skin, tracing all the scars he’d earned, right across his chest and down to his stomach.

and his breath actually hitches when you touch his anti-possession tattoo again.

your fingers trace on dean’s tattoo, watching and loving his reactions to just your freakin' hands.

and your hands stay resting on dean’s chest, but a little closer to his shoulders, shifting closer to him in his lap, pressing the entirety of your bare body completely against his.

your voice is still a whisper when you talk again, searching his face as you ask him to do what you've always wanted to.

because you needed to show dean how much you wanted him.

"can i ride you?"

if dean was hard before, it's nothing compared to the way his dick almost hurts now, throbbing at the way you asked permission to ride him.

"god, yes" is what comes out from dean's clenched jaw, and his gaze is locked onto yours as his hands rest on your hips.

a soft smile tugs on your lips again, your gaze flicking down for a brief moment when you hear how strained dean’s voice was— and the sight of him hard for you sends a wave of heat that pools in your stomach, making you clench around nothing.

because you needed dean just as badly as he needed you.

your eyes flick back up to dean’s green ones. and you notice that neither of you are nervous for his to happen. this was dean, after all. you'd wanted him in the least friendly way possible for as long as you could remember— and now? it was actually going to come true.

you didn’t have to ask dean anything else, or even say something. he wanted all of you— and you were going to give it to him.

so that’s why you shift a little, reaching down and guiding yourself to sink onto dean, keeping his gaze while your hands are still on his shoulders.

a broken groan escapes dean when you start to lower yourself down on him— and his own body’s reaction to your walls sucking him in just makes him want you even more.

dean lets his gaze travel all across your face— and he’s still looking right into your eyes when he lets himself go completely slack underneath you, letting you take the lead.

your fingers dig a little into dean’s shoulder at the burning sensation of your pussy being stretched— and your breath hitches, hard. your head falls forward a little as you screw your eyes shut.

your mind had felt like it was going over a thousand miles per second, but when your legs finally hit dean's and your pussy hits the base of his dick, everything just... goes away.

and dean couldn’t keep himself completely still anymore. he actually growled a little when he felt you fully sink down on him, and the sound that left him when he feels your tightness around him was a little more primal-sounding than he’d like to admit right now.

"oh, fuck," he breathes out your name, "you’re tryna kill me."

you can only respond to dean’s words with a strangled noise as the burning sensation was becoming full-throttle now, your grip on dean’s shoulders a little tighter, your head still hung as you try to keep my breathing steady.

because you literally couldn’t move yet. it was still the best feeling you'd ever felt— but you had to get used to dean's dick being buried deep inside of you before you could actually start to move on top of him.

and the way you’re holding on to his shoulders right now and how you’re trying to hold back little noises is driving dean insane.

he’s gripping your hips so tight that it has to be almost painful, and his eyes are fixed on you, still watching you while he tries to stay still for you. but it was taking a hell of a lot of effort on his part.

dean's chest is rising and falling fast, and he can’t help it when he finally chokes out your name in a whisper, unable to keep it in anymore.

"move. please."

at dean’s plea, you flick your hips just a little to see if you were adjusted yet.

and oh, were you ever. your fingers finally release their death grip on dean’s shoulders, one of your hands finding and grasping one of his own that was on your hip— and you finally start to move on top of him, rocking your hips into his.

the groan that escapes dean is the deepest one yet, his hand clutching onto yours and his eyes shutting for a moment as he feels you moving, his free hand tightening on your hip again.

"oh, god," dean gasps out, "jesus—"

you let out a raggedy exhale mixed with a moan, attempting to stop your eyes from rolling back into your head as you continue to ride dean's dick. it was hard, but you managed to keep your eyes open and half-lidded and on him, wanting to see his face— and you grind your hips into his faster and harder.

seeing you like this was getting to be borderline unbearable for dean.

your tits are bouncing a little in dean's face, and you're just not letting up, and you're so tight and warm, and he just fuckin' loves you—

dean realizes he's gonna cum if you keep this up.

and the embarrassing part is you barely even started riding him.

so it’s a damn good thing he’s still got a shred of control over himself right now.

"je— s— slow it down for a sec, darlin'," dean manages to get out, gritting his teeth as his eyes screw shut. "please."

the moment those words leave dean’s mouth, you immediately do as he says— you don’t abruptly stop, instead gradually slowing your movements to allow for an easy transition.

your hand trails up from dean's shoulder to cup on the side of his face while your're still on top of him— your eyes then search his when you breathlessly whisper to him.

"you okay?"

dean opens his eyes when you ask him if he’s okay right now, knowing that was pure concern in your words. he’s taking a moment to let his body level out a bit, since you stopped like he asked you to. and when he does, he manages a nod once he’s able to somehow form words.

"yeah, 'm good, darlin’—" dean swallows and takes a big gulp of air. "just got a 'lil too close to the edge for a second there. don’t wanna blow it right now."

an exhale of relief you didn’t know you were holding in was let out at dean’s confirmation— and your thumb almost absentmindedly grazes on the skin of his cheek as your hand was still on the side of his face.

"oh," you also nod, gaze softening as you look down at dean under you still. his words make you feel warm inside, along with a little sense of pride, too— but you still had to confirm. "it doesn’t hurt, though, right?"

"doesn’t hurt,” dean responds immediately. and that’s a bit of a complete understatement, because being inside of you right now felt like heaven. his own hand comes up to where yours is, his fingers skimming over your skin as he smiles softly up at you once more. "just wanna be able to last a 'lil bit longer for you, 's all."

your eyebrows scrunch together at that, and your expression is almost goddamn melted at this point as you look down at dean. you weren't sure why those words impacted you so much, but your chest tightens with emotion before you speak again.

"oh, de," you literally whisper, your thumb still skimming back and forth on dean’s cheek. "y'know you don’t have to do that."

"yeah, i do," dean murmurs immediately in response, looking right into your eyes the whole time he talks. "i've wanted this— you for goddamn years. i'm not lettin' this end yet."

so you don't.

you nod, leaning in and pressing a kiss on dean's lips before you talk again.

"okay," you nod against his forehead. "just move me when you want to, alright?"

dean gratefully nods, too, appreciating your understanding. his hands find and hold your hips again—this time, with less of a death-grip. and after he takes a steadying breath, he starts to move you.

you just let dean work and grind your hips into his own, holding his shoulder and face with your hands, allowing him to take what he needed and set the pace.

after a while, though, dean lifts you up off his dick by your hips a few inches before setting you back down fully, repeating the motion— starting to actually fuck you a little.

you'd been quiet for the most part so far— but once the head of dean's dick brushes against that spongy spot deep inside of you, a string of broken moans and gasps spill from your lips.

and that just spurs dean on.

you'd both waited long enough now. it's been years of stolen looks, suppressed jealousy, unspoken thoughts and feelings— and tonight, you're making it all come true in the darkness of the motel room.

thank god dean's hands had been guiding your hips— because you're starting to unravel faster than you can comprehend. and so is dean.

dean's fucking up into you now like he'll never be able to fuck you again— which you both know wasn't true. and after tonight, you know you'd happily sleep with dean's dick buried inside of your pussy.

it takes only a whimper falling from your lips for dean to know that you're close— and your hand flies down to one of his on your hips again. he gladly takes it, wanting to hold your hand when he cums inside of you—

wait. is he allowed to do that?

"y— oh," dean groans out your name— he has not been silent throughout this entire ordeal, either. broken noises of pleasure and little groans of your name escaped his lips whenever your walls clenched around him. "can i— god—"

you didn't have to ask what dean meant by that. you nod almost frantically as his hand are still gripping your hips, guiding your pussy up and down his dick— and you squeeze his other hand tighter, the one you were holding.

and only then does dean let himself go, again.

your orgasm comes at the same time dean's does— and you both arch into each other and trembling as your moans echo off the motel room's walls. dean's face buries between your tits and groans into the skin while he spills up into you, your juices mixing with his.

you both stay like that for a while, naked, sweating, slick and gasping for air for god knows how long— until dean's raw and breathless voice vibrating on your breasts breaks the silence.

"i think i was made for you."

──────────────────────── 𖤐

you now have two ( 2 ) new message from the author ! ↓

oh heyyy... are any of y'all still here ??? but seriously, on a real note— if you have stayed to the very end: first, THANK YOU for reading! and second, if you enjoyed, please consider SHOWING ME THAT ( reblogs / comments / etc ) because this took me FOREVER to write, and i want to know if my efforts are worthwhile!

OH i also used a very special headcanon from @figthoughts' mastermind brain for this one because mr. dean winchester holding your hand while he eats you out is very much and totally 100% canon for me as well. fig you match my freak like no other and i hope to one day write as good and absolutely filthily as you do HEHE smooches to you my pookie <3

my master taglist (so far): @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @ambiguous-avery @maddie0101 @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @sunsbaby @emeraldcrs @h8aaz @honeyryewhiskey @supernotnatural2005 @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @figthoughts @mostlymarvelgirl @amaris444 @kaz-2y5-spn @littlesoulshine + if i missed anyone OR if you want to be added/taken off, please let me know! <3

#this was so hot #oH God #dean winchester smut #lore: fics #i love how this was written im in love

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neilsbeloved · 1 month ago

Text

oh god

─── dark paradise

pairing: soldier boy x fem!reader

summary: forced to share a motel bed, you and soldier boy push each other’s limits, until the tension gets too much.

contents! porn with plot, cursing, "enemies" to "lovers" (more of hate-sex partners), pet names, bratty action, little spanking, tension, unprotected sex p in v, smut (so the usual warnings); mdni 𖤐 18+

word count: 1k

It’s Butcher’s fault.

Of course, it is.

The bastard had barely spared you a glance when he tossed you the motel key, muttering a quick, "S'only one room left. Deal with it." before heading off to his own damn bed, probably sleeping like a baby while you were about to experience hell.

Because standing behind you, staring at that single, shitty-ass motel bed, is Soldier Boy.

Smug. Smirking.

Because of all people, you were stuck with the most infuriating, sexist, arrogant piece of shit Supe on the planet.

And worse?

He was undeniably, unfairly fucking hot.

That cocky smirk. That thick beard. That solid wall of muscle barely hidden beneath his suit. He oozed confidence, the kind of man who knew he could say or do whatever the fuck he wanted and get away with it. The worst part? You had to pretend like you hadn’t definitely thought about what it’d be like to have those hands on you—rough, strong, possessive.

But that wasn’t happening.

No way.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," you breathe out, rubbing a hand down your face.

Soldier Boy just chuckles behind you, stepping into the room with all that confidence. Looking so goddamn smug you wanted to punch him. Or maybe shove something in his mouth to shut him up—just not your tongue.

You exhaled sharply, grabbing one of the shitty motel pillows and stomping toward the armchair in the corner. "I’ll sleep here."

"Oh c'mon... what, you afraid to sleep next to me, sweetheart? Afraid you might like it?"

He dropped his shield onto the floor with a heavy thud. The mattress squeaked as he sat down, legs spread wide, watching you like a cat watching a mouse it was about to pounce on.

Your jaw tightened. "Afraid you’ll wake up with my foot up your ass."

His laugh was a low, deep rumble, so fucking cocky. "Damn. Feisty. I like that."

You ignored him, trying to make the armchair comfortable—except it was fucking impossible. The seat was stiff, the armrests dug into your ribs, and after about two minutes, your back already ached.

Soldier Boy was watching. He knew.

"Go ahead, suffer all night. Or—" He patted the mattress beside him. "You could just quit bein’ a stubborn little brat and get your ass in bed."

You snapped, "I’d rather die."

"Alright, suit yourself." He stretched out, kicked off his boots, and took off part of his suit.

After a few minutes, you heard him sigh.

"C'mon, doll. I don’t bite." A beat. "Unless you ask real nice."

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Thirty minutes later, you gave up. With a growl, you stomped over to the bed.

"Not. A. Fucking. Word." You hissed.

Your hands clenching into fists. "If you touch me in your sleep, I’m breaking your fingers."

His smile was so wide you could practically feel the smugness wave from him.

"Baby, if I touch you, you won’t be breaking shit. You’ll be begging for more."

Your face burns.

You throw yourself onto the bed, keeping as much distance as possible between you. You yank the thin motel blanket over yourself and turn away from him, fuming.

But the second you slipped under the sheets, he turned on his side, facing you. "See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

You kept your back to him, grinding your teeth. "Shut up, Soldier Boy."

"Aw, c’mon. Call me Ben. We’re close now, ain’t we?"

"Eat shit, Ben."

He laughed—actually laughed—the low, husky sound way too fucking sexy for this situation. You squeezed your eyes shut, determined to ignore him.

Until—

A shift. The mattress dipped behind you. His breath—warm, slow—ghosting over the back of your neck.

"What are you doing." Your voice was tight.

"Relax." His voice was lower now, smug, lazy. "Just getting comfortable."

Bullshit.

His arm stretched over your waist—not touching, but close enough to feel the heat radiating from him.

"You’re so goddamn tense, sweetheart." A pause. Then— "Wonder why that is."

Your entire body stiffened.

"Maybe," he continued, voice dipping into something almost sinful, "’cause you’re trying real fuckin’ hard not to think about me fucking you."

Your breath hitched.

"Not to think about how good it’d feel to let me wreck that bratty little mouth of yours. Break you in just right."

Your throat went dry.

His fingers barely grazed your hip, testing the waters, a feather-light touch—like he was daring you to stop him.

You should. You should.

But your pulse was hammering. Your thighs clenched. And he knew it.

"You don’t wanna admit it, do you?" His lips were right by your ear now. "That you’re already getting wet just from the thought."

Your breath was uneven. "Go fuck yourself."

He chuckled. "Oh, baby. I’d rather fuck you."

After that, everything snapped.

You didn’t know who moved first—you or him—but suddenly you were on your back, pinned beneath him.

His mouth crashed against yours, all teeth and hunger, and you hated how fucking good he kissed. Rough. Demanding. Like he owned you already.

His hands tear at your clothes, ripping them away, his mouth hot and bruising against your skin. You barely process how fast it happens, his hands everywhere—gripping your throat, forcing your thighs apart, pressing bruises into your skin. So fucking dominant it makes your head spin.

"You gonna be good for me now, sweetheart? Huh?" His voice was a growl, his hand gripping your jaw. "Or you still gonna act like a brat?"

You spat, "Fuck you—"

Slap.

A sharp, stinging smack to your thigh. Your breath hitched—not in pain, but in something so much worse.

"Wrong answer."

Then, he pushes in.

A sharp stretch, filling you in one deep, slow thrust, knocking the breath from your lungs.

"That’s my girl," he breathes.

You whimper, body trembling, arching, clenching down on him.

Soldier Boy sucks in a sharp breath, stilling inside you.

"Jesus fuck," he growls. "You feel that, babydoll? The way you’re squeezin’ me?" His voice is strained, ragged. "So fuckin’ tight. Shit."

He finally starts to move.

Slow, so slow, dragging it out, forcing you to feel everything.

His pace is deliberate, teasing—rolling his hips, stretching you open, pushing deeper with every thrust, until you’re gasping, clawing at his back, needing more, needing him.

"You’re gonna take it, your little brat," he murmurs, taunting, dirty. "Gonna let me fuck you like I should’ve from the start."

You whimper, body arching into him.

He pounds into you, harder now, faster, unforgiving. Your thighs tremble, burn, but he just shoves them higher, wider, completely open to him.

And that mouth? Never stopped.

"Look at you." A dark chuckle, his grip tightening in your hair. "Not so mouthy now, huh?"

You gasped, back arching, your nails scratching his back.

"Use your words, babydoll. Tell me how good I’m making you feel."

"F-fuck you—"

Slap.

"Try again."

His fingers find your clit, rubbing tight, slow circles.

Your breath shatters.

Your head tilts back, helpless, back arching into him. "S-so fucking good—"

"That’s it, baby," he groans, pushing you over the edge, feeling your body clench, convulse around him.

You break.

Pleasure rips through you, blinding, earth-shattering, unstoppable.

And Ben follows.

His thrusts turn messy, desperate, his body shaking as he buries himself deep, groaning, cursing, growling your name as he spills into you, claiming you in every fucking way.

He stays there for a second, breath hot and ragged against your skin, his body heavy, unmovable.

And in the morning?

That smug, insufferable smirk would be the first thing you’d see.

"Told ya you’d like it, doll."

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

lina's notes: soo this is my first sb fic and the first time I post smut so I'm really nervous lol. I'm still learning and trying to improve my writing with explicit scenes, but I really hope it's at least good, enjoyable to read!! 🫶 (and plss comments and feedbacks will be greatly appreciated.)

special tags for some soldier boy lovers: @blossomingorchids @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @sunsbaby @daylighted @vmiina @gibson-g1rl @figthoughts @stargrltara @starzify @angelackless @bluemerakis @jasvtsc

(I don't have a taglist for soldier boy yet but if anyone wants to be added just let me know)

#im gonna die #so hot #soldier boy smut #lore: fic recs

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