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#Dean turned out so cute!
wistfulpoltergeist · 4 months
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Okay, Dean, your day has finally come! ;D
Who's Dean?
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derelictheretic · 2 years
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Dean Sinclaire | Lola Darling | Michael Sinclaire
Heather Lucille Valentine | Gabriel Stokes | Anya Cherkov
Got tagged by @shellibisshe @strafethesesinners @shallow-gravy and @florbelles to make my monsters in this picrew! Tsym! <3
Tagging @clicheantagonist @deputyash @aceghosts @bluemojave @detectivelokis @eur0paa-2 @i-am-the-balancing-point @unholymilf @viktor-sinclaire @wewillryesagain and anyone else who would like to do this one!
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mxltifxnd0m · 2 months
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cute glasses ◦◦ d. winchester
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summary: your eyes are dry because of your contacts, so you have no choice but to put your glasses on
pairings: established dean winchester x reader, dean winchester x gn! reader
word count: 1.3K
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warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', major fluff, some insecure thoughts, but mainly fluff
a/n: first official fic for dean!! also this was intentionally written as a blurb but as always, it seems i have more write than intended lol
please reblog and comment, i love to see your thoughts!
𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵
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You had to fight the temptation to rub your eyes as you stared hard at your laptop, the screen emitting a blue light that was beginning to give you a headache alongside the dryness of your contacts as you sat at the table in the motel room. You blinked hard multiple times, trying to bring moisture to your contacts and find some relief from the dryness, but nothing was working.
You were still dressed in the FBI garb you had put on in the morning when you and Dean were going to the station to gather information on the hunt the two of you were working. Sam would have joined the two of you, but he had come down with a cold, and Dean forced him to stay back at the bunker while the two of you would work the hunt.
You glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand, seeing that 10 minutes had passed since Dean went out to get dinner for you two. You threw your head back with a groan, feeling the soreness in your shoulders as you sat down and hunched over your laptop, researching for hours on end.
You stood up from the seat and stretched out your limbs like a cat waking up from a nap and stalking over to your bag to grab your pajamas and glasses, and headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower and get comfortable.
You jumped into the shower and rinsed off the day. After showering, you took out the dry contacts that were irritating your eyes, put them back into their case, and let out a sigh of relief when you blinked, and moisture was restored to your eyes.
You put on your glasses and strolled back into the room to find Dean sitting at the table and pulling the food out of the takeout bag.
"Took you long enough, sweetheart. I got us Chinese since there was a place I saw when driving in an-" He stopped talking as you crossed the room to see what he ordered.
"And what?" You asked him, looking at him with furrowed brows as you took in Dean's stunned expression, his mouth agape as his eyes flickered around and all over your face.
"You have glasses." Dean pointed out, blinking slowly as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
You raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh, yeah I do."
"Since when?"
"Since I was a freshman in high school." You told him as casually as you could, not wanting to make a big deal out of you wearing glasses.
"How come I've never seen you with them on?" Dean asked you with knitted brows.
"Err…" You trailed off. You didn't really want the boys to know you had glasses since you could be considered a liability if anything were to happen to your contacts or glasses. But hey, you've managed this long hunting with them, and you haven't died yet because of them. You just didn't want the boys to look down on you because you had them, and they could potentially hinder you in hunts.
"I wear contacts, and I try to keep them in for as long as I can until I can get back to my room and put my glasses on." You finally explained with a sheepish smile as you rubbed the back of your neck.
Dean's face turned into one of realization. "Is that why I sometimes feel you slip out of bed and then come back a couple of minutes later?"
You felt your face flush with heat as you nodded in response. Dean chuckled lightly at your embarrassment and leaned in to kiss your forehead. Then, a chaste peck on your lips before turning back to the food.
"You're not gonna ask me why I kept this from you?" You asked, confusion coloring your words as you saw him sit down in front of your closed laptop and dig into one of the takeout boxes with a plastic fork.
"Do you want me to?" Dean questioned through a mouthful of chow mein.
"Uh, not really. I was just ready for you to go all Spanish inquisition on me." You sat down across from him and looked through the takeout boxes before opening one of them to find the orange chicken.
Dean swallowed the food he was chewing. "Look, you had your reasons, and yeah, I have many questions about them but right now I just want to stare at you with them on."
You raised an eyebrow at him again. "You like them?"
"Yeah," He shrugged. "You look beautiful with or without them on." Dean reached across the table and traded chow mein for the orange chicken box in your hands.
You smiled at him, feeling your cheeks flush with heat again before huffing an amused breath through your nose. You narrowed your eyes at him as you leaned forward, taking Dean, who was still in his FBI suit, minus the jacket, tie, and a few of the buttons on his shirt unbuttoned.
"The glasses are doing something for you aren't they?" You teased him as you took a bite of the chow mein.
"Yeah, you have this sexy librarian thing going on. Could only imagine how much hotter you would have been if you left your FBI suit on." Dean's mouth pulled into a coy smirk, his green eyes alight with mischief and desire.
You chuckled as you shook your head. "Of course, you'd be into that."
Dean shrugged again as he popped a piece of orange chicken in his mouth.
Later, when the two of you finished eating and did a little more research and while you were doing your skincare, a sliver of worry still sat with you as you thought about how this would affect Dean and hunting. When you climbed into bed with Dean and placed your glasses on the nightstand, your world got a little blurry, but you could still see Dean's slight smile on his face as he pulled you into his side, wrapping an arm around your waist.
Dean pressed a warm kiss on your forehead. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asked lowly, his voice laced with care and fatigue.
"S'nothing." You shook your head.
"Come on, don't like seeing you like this before we go to bed." Dean squeezed your waist.
You sighed before propping your chin on his chest. "Just concerned that you might worry about me because of my bad eyesight."
Dean looked at you before leaning forward to press another kiss to your forehead and brought his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against the soft skin. You leaned into his warm touch, pressing a kiss into his palm.
"I'm always going to worry about you," He started, pausing before finding his following words.
"But you've been hunting with your contacts and glasses for a long time before you met me, and you've been able to keep up with me and Sam without us knowing. I don't care that you have glasses or contacts because you're still a damn good hunter."
You smiled at his words before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against Dean's full lips. Dean kissed you just as softly as you pressed your lips against yours and chased your lips as you pulled away.
You rested your forehead against his. "Thank you." You whispered, your lips brushing against his as you did.
"No problem, sweetheart. Let's get to bed, we've got a bastard to hunt."
You chuckled softly at his words and pressed a quick kiss on his lips before settling beside him and melting into his side as you guys slowly fell asleep, finding that your dreams were filled with Dean's joyous laughter and playful kisses.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 month
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A Shirtless Winchester
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Pairing: Dean x reader
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“Uh.” You stopped halfway into your bedroom, towel tucked under your arm around your bare body, messy damp hair down your back. You blinked, meeting a cheeky smile in return. 
Dean Winchester was on your bed, laying back, reading the romance book from your nightstand.
A very shirtless Dean Winchester.
“W-What are you doing in here? On my bed?”
“Waiting for you. For a book with such a cute cover they sure do some depraved things in this,” he hummed. You looked around and back into the hall, shaking your head. “You want to make out?”
“What?!”
“Do you want to make out?”
You stared at him, Dean putting the book down and walking over to you, tucking a finger under your chin so you looked into his eyes.
“Well?”
You inhaled and dropped your towel, Dean not breaking eye contact.
“Did that answer your question?” you said.
“It did. Posed another one though.”
“I bet it did,” you said, pushing on his chest, walking him back until he lay back on the bed. “I’m gonna close that door and by the time I turn around, those pants better be gone.”
“Or what?” he smirked as you already turned back towards the doorframe.
“You’ll see, Winchester. You’ll see.”
______
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deans-queen · 28 days
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Stolen Moments 📸
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N)
Summary: Y/N finds herself unable to resist capturing a rare, peaceful moment of Dean Winchester sleeping in a motel room. But when Dean wakes up and catches her in the act, what starts as an innocent photo op quickly turns into an intimate encounter.
Warnings: light smut, fluff, Dean being hot while he’s asleep (if I missed any lmk)
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Y/N couldn’t help herself. Dean Winchester, the ever-tough hunter, was sprawled out on the motel bed, sound asleep. His usually furrowed brow was relaxed, lips slightly parted, and his broad chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. The sight of him so vulnerable, so at peace, was a rare one, and Y/N felt a flutter in her chest that she couldn’t ignore.
She quietly picked up her phone, careful not to make any noise that might wake him. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the cracked blinds, casting soft shadows across Dean's face. The perfect light for a candid shot. Y/N brought her phone up, framing the image, and snapped a few photos. She moved slightly closer, wanting to capture the way his lashes brushed against his cheekbones and the stubble that darkened his jawline.
In her concentration, she didn’t notice the small twitch in Dean’s fingers, nor the way his breathing changed ever so slightly. As she leaned in for a closer shot, a low, gravelly voice broke the silence.
Y/N froze, her heart skipping a beat as she looked up to find Dean’s piercing green eyes fluttered open and stared back at her, one brow arched in that classic Dean Winchester way. His lips curved into a lazy smirk, and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.
“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?”
“I, uh…” She fumbled for words, trying to explain herself, but Dean just chuckled, the sound deep and warm.
“Could’ve just asked for a picture, you know,” he said, pushing himself up on one elbow. “But I gotta admit, it’s kinda cute you were sneakin’ around like that.”
Y/N bit her lip, her embarrassment quickly turning into something else as Dean’s gaze lingered on her, his smirk fading into something more serious. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her hand, sending a shiver down her spine.
“Come here,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost a command.
She didn’t hesitate. Y/N moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. Dean’s hand slid up her arm, his touch gentle but firm as he pulled her towards him. She leaned in, her heart pounding in her chest, until their faces were just inches apart.
“You gonna keep takin’ pictures, or are you gonna give me something to remember?” Dean’s voice was a low rumble, and the way he was looking at her made her pulse quicken.
Y/N didn’t need any more encouragement. She closed the distance between them, her lips finding his in a kiss that was soft at first, tentative. But Dean’s response was immediate, his hand moving to the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. The room seemed to fade away, the only thing she could focus on was the feel of his lips against hers, the way his stubble scratched her skin in the most intoxicating way.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them slightly breathless, Dean’s thumb brushed over her cheek, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Next time, you could always just ask for what you want, baby girl.”
She smiled, her earlier nerves completely gone. “And miss out on all the fun? I don’t think so.”
Dean chuckled again, pulling her down onto the bed beside him, his arm wrapping around her waist. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”
As they lay there, Dean’s fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin, Y/N realized just how much she enjoyed these quiet moments with him, the rare times when the world seemed to slow down, and it was just the two of them. And maybe, just maybe, she’d have to start sneaking more pictures of him when he wasn’t looking. After all, Dean Winchester was a sight worth capturing.
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Authors Note:
Hope you enjoyed this story!
@deanwinchestersgirl8734 requested this and I thought it was such a cute idea! Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!
Like & follow for more !! Xoxo
Want to read more? Check out my other stories!
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adrienneleclerc · 4 months
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Jealous
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Charles gets easily jealous when his girlfriend fawns over her fictional or celebrity crushes
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors
A/N: all the characters and celebrities mentioned are people I find attractive. If you don’t have a crush on them, that’s fine, to each their own
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Y/N and Charles were watching American Assassin because Charles wanted to watch an action movie and he has never seen it.
“Ugh, Dylan O’Brien could get it.” Y/N said and Charles turned so fast to look at her.
“What?” Charles asked.
“Dylan O’Brien could get it, he is so fine, I already thought he was cute as Stiles but as Mitch Rapp? Ooh, so fine, I’d let him choke me.” Y/N said, eating chips and Charles just looks at her. “What?”
“Were you always this unhinged?” Charles asked.
“A little, but have you seen his veiny arms when he was being held at gun point? I wanna bite them.” Y/N said and Charles looked at his arms and back at the screen.
“Mon ange, my arms are veiny, you could bite mine.” Charles said.
“I bite yours all the time when we’re not in public. There’s just something about Dylan O’Brien playing Mitch Rapp that does something for me. Like look at those abs.” Y/N said and Charles immediately retaliated with
“I have better abs than him!” Charles exclaimed, making a point by taking off his shirt and standing next to the TV to compare him and Dylan O’Brien
“Ay muñeco, Im teasing, don’t take it too seriously.” Y/N said, pulling him back to the bed and kissing him.
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The next time Charles got “jealous” was when Y/N was on TikTok and she saw a video of The Drivers Era performing.
“Ross Lynch es tan guapo, no wonder when he performed in Mexico, todos le estaban diciendo que se encuere.” Y/N said and Charles was brushing his teeth in the bathroom. Charles poked his head out to see Y/N in bed. “What? Ross is 6’1, our height difference is literally perfect.”
“Are you trying to hurt me, Mon ange?” Charles asked before spitting into the sink.
“Of course not muñeco, he’s just a celebrity crush, it’s not like anything will happen.” Y/N commented.
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Then it happened again when Charles and Y/N were out with Pierre and Kika. They saw a movie poster for the ministry of ungentlemany warfare.
“We should see this movie, the trailer looks amazing.” Kika said.
“And so does Henry Cavill, I love how curly his hair is.” Y/N commented.
“Just once I would like to go out and not listen to you talk about other men.” Charles said.
“Whats happening there?” Pierre asked
“Charles gets butthurt when I talk about my celebrity crushes.” Y/N said.
“What do they have that I don’t?” Charles asked.
“Well Ross and Henry are 6 feet tall, Ross plays hockey and I LOVE hockey boys, Henry played field hockey, but you’re taller than Dylan O’Brien, I’ll give you that.” Y/N said and Charles stared at her.
“You weren’t supposed to give me a list!” Charles exclaimed while laughing at how ridiculous this conversation was.
“You literally asked!” Y/N exclaimed. “But I also want to see the movie for Eiza Gonzalez, totally support her making it big in Hollywood.”
“Yes! Loved her in Baby Driver!” Kika said and her and Y/N started talking about movies.
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Y/N was watching Supernatural and eating ice cream.
“God I love this episode, he looks so good.” Y/N said. Charles looked at the screen and back at her.
“Really? The Winchester brothers in prison? Isn’t the guy who plays Dean like 50?” Charles asked.
“Um, he’s 46, and he looks good for his age considering he’s white.” Y/N said.
“Cant believe you love Dean Winchester. Why not Sam?” Charles asked.
“I love both Winchester brothers, I just relate to Dean more. And in the later seasons, I don’t like Sam’s hair. But Sam’s hair in season 1 and 2? LOVE.” Y/N said.
“What about my hair?” Charles asked.
“Muñeco, you know how much I love to pull on it when we’re kissing and other stuff.” Y/N says, kissing Charles, running her hands through his hair to make a point, he pulled away.
“Mm, I love when you do that.” Charles said smiling.
“I know you do.” Y/N said, continuing to play with his hair. “There’s no reason to be jealous of my celebrity crushes, okay?“
“I’m not convinced, how about you show me that you’re mine and mine alone.” Charles said, hand wrapped around Y/N’s throat, not applying pressure.
“It would be my pleasure.” Y/N said, holding Charles’s hand to run to their bedroom.
The End
Hope y’all like it!
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FIRST TIME
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PAIRING : teenage!dean winchester x teenage!fem!reader (au)
SUMMARY : reader finally decides to give her virginity to dean
WARNINGS : young love. fluff. smut. horniness. cunnilingus. fingering. under-aged sex. rough sex. semi-pubic sex. unprotected p in v. aftercare. attentive dean. strong language. praise kink.
A/N : this oneshot is a prequal to homework [if you haven't read it yet, go check it out!] thank you to everyone who's read and supported it, it means the world. i plan on making a few more oneshots (that could be read on its own) in this universe. let me know what you think 😆
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Your eight-month anniversary with Dean was today. In a (good) way, it felt longer. Growing up, you were taught to respect your body. You were told to wait for marriage before having a man worship at your temple. It was "the best gift you could give your husband," at least that's what they said. Until now, you haven't had a problem waiting. Sure, you had urges from time to time like any teenager, but no one had made you feel how you felt with Dean.
The longer you spent with him, the more you craved. It wasn't just his physical attributes but his personality, too. Every exchange of words, every shared moment, and every heartfelt conversation only entrenched your love even further. It was the way he protected you, cared for you, and loved you that made you feel safe. Until you, he had no interest in dating. Why would he when all he wanted from girls was something they offered him freely?
You had been the first girl ever to deny him, and that's what drew him in. He wasn't looking for a relationship, but hearing the word 'no' intrigued him. Suddenly, finding ways to get your attention was his priority. Whether it was meeting you at your locker every morning with flowers, seeing you after school to offer you a ride home, or even cornering your best friend for help winning you over, he didn't stop. It wasn't until you overhead your peers discuss how Dean dismissed any girl who engaged with him that you took him seriously.
And there he was again, at your locker, with the brightest bouquet of tulips, your favorite. His charming smile beams towards you, filling you with joy from across the hall. Students pass by, talking amongst themselves about you. "Watch, she's going to blow him off again." "How could she do that? He's so hot." "He's only trying to win her over to get in her pants. She's not even that cute." Even though it wasn't in your nature to ignore them, you chose not to cause a scene, not with them anyway.
A smile lit up your face as you focused on Dean. "Hey," You greet once you're standing before him.
"Hey, beautiful," You couldn't help but blush at the pet name, loving how it sounded coming from his mouth.
He hands you the flowers, and you happily accept them. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." He leans against the locker beside yours, watching you open your own. You inhaled the bouquet before gently placing the tulips inside. "I'm sure I know the answer to this, but would you like to go out sometime?"
You close your locker and stare into his dreamy eyes as you reply, "I'd love to."
His face lit up like a kid on Christmas. It seemed he was ready for you to turn him down again, and as much as he wanted, he didn't expect you to say yes. He leaned away from the lockers as a smile stretched across his face. His infectious smile brought one of your own. You always imagined saying those words to him, and now that you did, it was better than you had dreamed it would be.
"Really? T-that's great! Does tonight work?"
"Yeah, tonight's perfect."
"Awesome, I'll pick you up at eight."
You weren't a bold person, but you couldn't resist standing on your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. Your hand rests against his arm, maintaining your balance as your lips press against his face. Even though your gesture was small, he closed his eyes and enjoyed your lingering kiss. You slowly pull away and lean back on your heels. The passing crowd seemed to still at the publicly displayed affection. Hush conversations began as everyone gawked at you two. Before doubt could seep in, Dean grasped your attention.
"Don't listen to them."
You nodded, listening to his words and ignoring the others. "I'll see you tonight."
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The Impala comes to a soft halt in the middle of the grassy field like it did all those nights ago. A smile appears when you realize he's recreating your first date. Dean had taken you to his favorite diner in town as the sun had set before coming here. The pur of the engine ceases, and his door creaks open. You've learned over the months to wait for your boyfriend rather than exiting Baby by yourself. Despite your protests, he insisted on being the gentleman his parents raised him to be, someone he was, only with you.
Dean helps you onto the hood, then joins. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. Your backs lean against the windshield, heads tilted towards the night sky. Stars litter the dark canvas above, shining as bright as the first time he brought you. A warm breeze blew through the trees, over the open field, and towards the Impala. Crickets play their song as the rustle of leaves hum from afar. It was a scene out of a romance novel.
A content smile found its home on your face. You didn't need to talk to feel comfortable with him and were confident he felt the same. Being in his presence alone filled you with a sense of safety. Dean has had his share of fights defending you, whether you wanted him to or not. He never gave you a reason to doubt him, and you knew deep in your soul that wouldn't change. That's why you decided tonight was the night you'd give yourself to him completely.
Tearing your gaze from the stars, you direct your admiration towards your boyfriend. Feeling your stare, he turns his undivided attention towards you. You lean forward and connect your lips with his. He doesn't waste a moment to kiss you back with just as much passion. His hand runs through your hair, sending tingling sensations across your scalp. You breathe him in, quickly accepting his tongue. He leans over your body, deepening the kiss. Eager for more, you push him back against the windshield and straddle his hips. Your ass grinds against his lap, and he pulls your hair, breaking the kiss, only to attach his mouth to your neck.
Small moans escape your peppered throat, the light breeze carrying them away. The feeling of Dean's growing member rubbing against your entrance made you apathetic toward the marks he was leaving behind. You'd happily deal with the evidence later. Your eyes squeeze shut as the friction becomes overwhelming. Shallow breaths leave your lungs as tension quickly builds in the pit of your stomach.
With one hand on the back of your head and the other at the bottom of your spine, he lays you across on the hood. He hovers over your body before continuing the actions from before. Dean harshly rubs his bulging jeans against yours, and your legs wrap around his hips to pull him closer. Your body clings to his, only encouraging him to grind harder. Desperation gets the best of you when your walls clench around nothing.
"I need you," You breathe out.
Dean stops his movements and stares into your eyes, asking, "What?"
"I need you—I want you."
"A-are you sure?" He inquires as he rises to a seated position.
"Yes, D." You sit too and reassure him. "I've been thinking about it for a while now. What better time than on our anniversary?"
He hesitates but says, "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I didn't expect—I would've planned it out if I knew you were ready. I imagined our first time—your first time—to be perfect. Not in the back seat of my car; You mean so much more than that."
"I know, but it can still be perfect."
"How?"
"Well..." You take his hand in yours, squeezing gently. "I think losing my virginity to the boy I love under the stars sounds pretty perfect to me."
"That sounds great, but the 'where' part is still an issue."
You glance around your surroundings before settling with, "Right here."
His eyebrows draw together. "On the hood?"
"Beats the backseat for my first time. And, I don't know, having sex on the hood of the Impala sounds sexier."
A dry chuckle escapes his lips as he shakes his head. "Does it now?"
"Mhm," You hum as you scoot closer.
He inhales sharply once you gently press your lips against his throat, instantly finding his sweet spot. Because your relationship hadn't gone further than second base, you both had gotten pretty good at teasing each other. You had to admit, there were a few times when you almost caved out of sheer lust. But tonight was different: you were ready. A grin plays on your lips as your other hand trails down to his tightening jeans. Groans fall from his mouth as you palm his erection and sink your teeth into his sensitive skin.
Your hand undoes his pants, and before you can slip your hand in, he lays you back down. His lips capture yours, and you quickly move in sync. You pull his shirt up, hinting you wanted it off. He complies and pulls it over his head, tossing it to the ground. As he kneels in front of you, you pull his jeans down and see his boner through the fabric of his boxers.
After discarding his pants, he reaches for yours to peel them off. As he did that, you quickly took your shirt off. You were both now in your undergarments, staring hungrily at one another. He hovers over you and kisses down your neck towards your chest. Your body goes hot, growing hornier by the second. His fingers drag the straps of your bra off your shoulders as his mouth places wet kisses on the top of your breasts. You arch your back, giving him access to unhook your bra.
The outline of his cock presses into your clit, distracting you from your unruly thoughts. His warm tongue finds your left nipple, licking it before taking it into his mouth and gently sucking. He doesn't leave the right one unoccupied for long. His fingers lightly pinch and twist your hardened nipple. You close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure his mouth, fingers, and dick are creating. The intensity of his member grinding against your clit and the stimulation of both your nipples were driving you to the edge. Suddenly, his mouth unlatches itself from you, causing you to open your eyes in confusion.
Dean's large hands run down your thighs, sending goosebumps along your skin. His fingers loop around the waistband of your underwear, and before he goes further, he silently asks if it's okay. You nod and watch as he pries your soaked panties from your body. Instinctively, you try closing your legs, feeling insecure. Flush ran throughout your entire body. You had never been this intimate with someone, and it was frightening. He detects your lack of confidence and promptly makes you feel comfortable.
"You're so beautiful." He praises. "So much better than I ever imagined."
His fingertips lightly ran over your skin as if he were afraid to hurt you. They cupped the back of your knees and gently lifted until they bent. Dean slowly kisses down your thighs, and between each peck, he compliments you. You feel your insecurity disappear the closer he gets to your most intimate area. Without wasting another moment, his face devours your pussy as if he were a starved man. You arch your back as he licks your cunt clean, skillfully working through your folds. Your eyes roll back once his nose presses against your clit. Before you knew what was happening, you came all over his tongue.
"Oh, God," you pant with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to—I didn't know I was gonna cum so fast."
Dean lifts his head from between your thighs, the area around his mouth glossy with your juice. "Don't ever apologize, you got it?" After you nod, he dips down again, slurping up every last trace of your arousal, humming, "You taste so fucking good, princess."
You tug at his hair, squirming underneath his face. His thumb finds your bundle of nerves, rubbing it in circles, making your body unexpectedly jerk. You watch as he removes his countenance and trails kisses up your body. He lays on his side next to you before tucking his arm around your shoulders. The beating of your heart quickens as he applies the right amount of pressure you didn't know your clit needed. Your hips buck upwards while a whine slips past your lips, wanting more.
His fingers travel further down, running through your glistening folds. You knew what came next, the anticipation deafening. Slowly, he slides his index finger inside you. A content sigh falls from your mouth, enjoying how his digit drives in and out of your cunt. Dean sees your pleased and lazy smile, and a smirk emerges on his lips before adding another finger. You inhale deeply, feeling the difference between one and two fingers. It doesn't take long before his thick fingers pleasure you once again.
You bite your lip to stifle your moans, not wanting to annoy your boyfriend with your uncontrollable squeals. He notices and mumbles against the side of your mouth, "Let it out, princess. I want to hear every little sound you make."
That was all you needed to hear. Dean's fingers worked faster, taking you near the edge, and your moans told him so. They grow louder with each thrust, but the moment his fingers curled, you lost it. Your hand grabbed his hair, holding on as he fingered your g-spot. The muscles in your stomach contract, and you get that feeling again; your climax begins. You close your legs, thighs wrapping around his arm, making the high intensify. His consistency doesn't falter, and his digits fuck you, only taking you higher. Once it ends, your legs fall, and he pulls his hand away.
Your chest rises and falls, trying to catch your breath. Dean brings his drenched hand to his mouth, his eyes finding yours before closing his lips around his fingers and pulling them out at an agonizingly slow pace. Fuck, you thought. Watching him suck your fluids from his digits alone could've made you cum again. Your left-hand slips into his boxers before wrapping around his erection. A small groan falls from his lips, having never been touched like this by you. Without having to see his length, you felt it was rather long. You pumped his silky soft cock a few times and felt him twitch. His previously soaked hand pulls off his remaining clothing, freeing his large member. Your eyes widen; He's much bigger than you imagined.
How was he going to fit? You wonder. He saw the worry in your eyes and ran his fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your face before kissing the tip of your nose. Dean gently grasped the hand that held him and intertwined your fingers together as he hovered over you. He nudges your knees apart, and you happily allow him between your legs. This was it. This was what you both have been waiting—what felt like anyway—an eternity for. Your mind was ready, but you weren't sure if your body was.
"It's going to be okay, sweetheart," Dean reassures. "I'll go as slow as you need."
You nod, intoxicated by his affectionate attentiveness. "Okay."
His lips connect with yours, kissing your nerves away. He rubs his tip through your folds, coating it with your wetness. You break apart and angle your head to watch his cock disappear in your awaiting pussy. The pain as he stretches your walls rips through your body, forcing your eyes shut. Your face scrunches in discomfort as he pushes in further. Whines come from your mouth as he slowly bottoms out. Dean stays still, kissing your forehead as you adjust to his size.
"I know, princess, I'm sorry. I promise it'll feel better."
You nod in response. Soon, your eyes open as the pain becomes tolerable, whispering, "Okay, you can move."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Dean's eyes scan over your countenance, trying to detect any lies. When he saw none, he began to move. You inhale sharply as the pain rushes back. His hips stop their retraction, but you quickly shake your head in protest.
"Keep going," You say through gritted teeth.
Without question, he pulls back until his tip threatens to slip out. Slowly, he drives back in. You squeeze his hand and wrap the other around his shoulder as your legs cling to his torso. His lips pepper your face with kisses as he continues to thrust the discomfort away. Over the months, you've seen the womanizer everyone knew Dean as vanish. He always took care of you—physically, mentally, and emotionally. You couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend, especially right now. His effort to soothe you seemed to have worked. The pain turned to pleasure, and you ached for more.
"Faster," You murmur into his ear.
He bit his lip, trying to distract himself from spilling his cum so soon, but the way your walls squeezed around him made it nearly impossible. Dean picks up his speed, playing his own game of russian roulette. You felt his cock twitch inside you, prompting a moan and the tightening of your insides. He buries his head into your neck, attempting to postpone his climax. The pleasure began to build in your stomach, and per his earlier request, you made it known.
"Fuck, babe. If you keep it up, I'm going to cum." He groans.
You giggle, "Isn't that the point?"
He thrusts deeper, answering, "Not until you do."
A new wave of satisfaction washes over your body, making you moan louder, begging, "Harder."
Dean complies, bucking his hips into the back of your thighs. His name fell from your lips like a prayer. You untangle your hand from his and dig your nails into his back. Sure, you had daydreamed of having sex with your boyfriend hundreds of times, but you never imagined it being this mind-blowing. His member deliciously bruises your g-spot, causing pain and pleasure to fight for dominance. Sounds you never thought you could make fall from your mouth, encouraging him to quicken his pace. The Impala rocked side to side, utilizing the suspension's swaybar with each vigorous thrust.
"Fuck, Dean. Just like that, baby. Don't stop." You beg between moans.
The tension in your belly threatened to snap any second. The area just under his waist rubs against your clit, coercing your chest to arch into his. He presses you into the warm hood, keeping your squirming to a minimum. Tears flood your eyes as your immense climax approaches. Your body tenses as it braces for your last orgasm, squeezing Dean's phallus for dear life.
"Cum on my cock, princess." He urges as he fights off his own release. "I know you can do it. Mm... 'Want to feel you come undone on my dick. C'mon, sweetheart, do it for me."
His words were all you needed to fall over the edge. Except you didn't fall, you flew. Your fluids gushed on his member as you screamed into the night air. His thrusts began to falter, but he forced himself to ride you through your high. Your toes curl while your eyes roll back, your climax taking control of your body.
Unable to fight off his orgasm any longer, he hurriedly asks, "Where do you want it?"
You can barely form words as your body shakes uncontrollably. "D-d-does-n't ma-tter."
The weight of Dean's body lifts from yours as he sits back, pulling himself out and grabbing his wet member. Your eyes refocus in time to see him accidentally ejaculate on your folds. His cock twitches again, this time spraying across your upper body. A breathy groan falls from his parted lips as ropes of hot cum coat your skin. You feel his seed drip towards your entrance, daring to breed life with you. The thought of carrying his child brings a smile to your face. No, no. You're too young, you remind yourself. Can't start a family with him yet. He bends over your body and kisses your lips. He presses his softening dick against your wet folds as you kiss him back.
"As much as I love bathing in your cum, I think I wanna clean up so we can cuddle." You pant, trying to catch your breath on the way down from your high.
He chuckles against your lips before sitting up again. "I'll be right back."
Dean climbs off the Impala and opens the back door. You lay still as the fluids threaten to leak onto the hood. He shuts the door, returning with a blanket in one hand and napkins and a water bottle in the other. He sets the blanket on the windshield before hopping next to you. He wipes the mess away and uses the water to remove the stickiness left behind. Once he finished cleaning you up, he tossed the dirty napkins off the car. He lays beside you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. You snuggle into his bare chest, listening to the beat of his heart as he pulls the blanket around you two.
He stares at the night sky, gazing at the stars, when you confess, "I love you."
Your boyfriend kisses the top of your head, mumbling against your hair, "I love you too, sweet pea."
"Thank you for being my first."
His hand gently lifts your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. "Thank you for trusting me to be your first."
Your lips curl into a smile, "I wouldn't have it any other way."
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usedpidemo · 9 months
Text
Plaid (Newjeans Hanni)
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Hanni Pham is just about the perfect student: consistently top of the class, perennial dean’s lister, well liked among her teachers and peers, an active participant for every co-curricular and extracurricular activity, and overall just a good person to be around.
And you? You’re the exact opposite. Slow, lazy, constantly in self-isolation—always cutting classes whenever you can, struggling with just about everything. You’re surprised you’re still even attending this university as is, despite the countless talks with your professors.
Which is why when she greets you a good morning as soon as you run into each other in the hallway, the books you’ve been carrying crumble like Jenga blocks. 
She immediately jumps into action, picking up your dropped books in record fashion to hand them back to you. The cute, irresistible smile etched on her lips is icing on the cake. 
“Here you go!”
Admittedly, you feel some type of way about Hanni. It’s conflicting, constantly changing. A little bit of jealousy because she’s the student you wished you were, but also a bit of allure because of how surprisingly attractive she is. You’ve never felt any kind of attraction towards anyone in college besides her. And she turns out to be an exchange student, and you’ve never seen anyone with the combination of cuteness and beauty before she came along.
You take a moment to look into her eyes. Those gentle, warm irises perfectly capture the kindness emanating from her—God, why is she so damn irresistible. It isn’t that you’ve been giving her the cold shoulder, but you’re merely apathetic and neutral with her. Outside of the same brief rote exchanges—good morning, what’s your lunch, what are you doing after class later—you and Hanni have been, for the most part, worlds apart. 
The universe is doing its part to bring you two together, because you can feel it. Tension so thin, you can cut it with a knife. 
She never lets up. 
She wants to know you.
“I-uh, thanks,” you say, suddenly averting her gaze to your locker instead as you snatch your books back, then in the other direction. Anywhere but her eyes. 
Fuck. She keeps staring, leaning her head forward with a lively smile, her hands behind her back, waiting for you to continue. She talks with childlike passion and energy, “We have an exam in accounting later, did you study for it?”
“N-no,” you say, almost stuttering through the simplest of responses, as though your tongue is wrapped up in itself. It should be embarrassing for you to act this awkwardly in front of a sweet girl like Hanni. Mentally punching yourself to be better. It never happens. “Not exactly, I kinda forgot.”
More like you willingly neglected your studies for a nightlong gaming session. It’s an addiction.
Her eyes widen with amusement, as if she sees through the lie. Does she? You don’t know. Maybe she does. There’s so many layers to her that you never bothered to uncover. That’s the price for your negligence and decision to be a lone-wolf. 
Hanni reaches her hand into the pocket of her dress shirt and presents a folded up sheet of paper. “Then this with you. Just make sure to hide it underneath the test paper, got it?”
From bewilderment to amazement—your face goes through every emotion, unsure of what would perfectly suit the situation. She doesn’t know you well enough to casually entrust you with a cheat sheet, yet she’s perfectly fine handing it to you over her presumed friends, which includes members of the student council. 
Initially, you hesitate, but she’s steadfast in her position, as if you receiving this paper is doing her a favor. You ultimately fold and accept it from her. She grins as you tuck the sheet away in your coat.
“See you later!” she says, before walking past you to her next class. You slowly turn around, watch her leave and rejoin with her friends, one of whom is the student council head. Alone with nothing but your thoughts, you put the strange encounter aside and get moving again.
—————
The next time you see Hanni again is during world history class, right before lunch. Your rather senile professor, who doesn’t give a shit that half the class is either fast asleep, on the verge of, or doing everything else apart from listening to his monotonous lecture, drones on about Napoleon’s European conquest for the second week in a row. Even the patient student that you are, you’ve grown tiresome of it, especially with the dreadful pacing. You’re way behind schedule. At the very least, he seems to be paid well, so there’s a little silver lining.
Looking at her, you wonder if the gods were in a good mood on the day they made her. She’s as enthusiastic about the topic as if it's her first time hearing it. Listening to every single word intently, taking down notes furiously, taking pictures of the presentation even though she has it projected on her laptop because why the fuck not—she was born to be the teacher’s pet. Compare that to half of the class: even the supposed top student in the class is barely struggling to stay awake, clinging to the edges of her seat out of fear she could collapse from sheer boredom. It’s a miracle, really, that there’s at least one student showing this much interest.
The notion creeps up in your mind: Hanni’s right over there, without a care except for the lecture at hand. Your phone rests on the edge of your chair. Her smile, her shine—you want to keep more than just a mental image of her. Something to actively remind you that someone like her exists. It’s creepy, but it doesn’t matter when no one’s looking, especially not her. Only you. 
Little by little your hand crawls toward the phone. Then the moral compass inside you resists. You don’t know this girl—not in the slightest. Just because of a simple kind act doesn’t mean you’re completely smitten over her. Most importantly, you remember one important point about Hanni: she’s not from here. She’s an exchange student with a one year contract set to expire in—wait for it—two weeks. The semester ends before then, and it’s reasonable to assume she’ll be gone from your life just as quickly as she entered it once the page turns.
Right as the inner conflict inside your head reaches a fever pitch, the bell rings. On one side, you’re celebrating this moral victory; on the other, you’re punching a mental wall for not pulling the trigger. Before the professor even realizes the alarm already sounded off, all the students have filed out of the room in quick succession. 
You briefly consider searching for Hanni in the sea of students making their way around the halls, but seeing that she’s disappeared into the crowd, you decide to let her go. Perhaps the logical side of your brain might be telling you the truth: that she will be a mere afterthought to you after today.
But then there’s the unshakeable, unceasing part of you that refuses to give in. Even as you eat lunch at the corner of the cafeteria, you’re still trying to single out Hanni to no avail. A hopeless situation gradually growing worse with each passing hour. 
A not so subtle tap on your shoulder. Look to your side and there’s your angel, appearing at your hour of need. Hanni.
“Hey! Still have the cheat sheet I gave you earlier?” she asks. A few meters behind her is the student council president, Minji, and her secretary, Danielle, engaged in their own conversation, presumably accompanying their friend.
You scramble to find the folded piece of paper somewhere in your bag, forgetting that you’ve tucked the sheet away deep in your coat. Panicked, you jump from your seat to search within your clothes, still unable to detect its tiny presence hiding in your jacket. “Shit—”
“I can give you another copy if you lost it—”
“I’m sure it’s in here somewhere!” you interject, tonally desperate, repeatedly swiping your fingers on the same pockets with no success. 
Eventually, you frisk the deepest pockets of your coat, feeling something rough on the edge of your fingertips. Reeling it out, you present a folded piece of paper in front of her. It should be a small win, but it’s an embarrassing loss, especially right in front of Hanni.
“Good to know you still have it!” she says, grinning from ear to ear. You’re certain she was trying to suppress her chuckle the entire time, and based on her toothy smile, it’s not very difficult to jump to that conclusion. “Even if you didn’t lose it, I still would have given you another copy if you wanted it.”
“Hanni.” You turn to face her, a complete juxtaposition from her jolly, outgoing personality. Your expression looks stern in searching for answers. “Why are you like this? We barely know each other.”
Surprised by your sudden change in attitude, she takes a step back, pausing to contemplate her answer. Her usually bright demeanor gradually changes to reflect yours. Her smile remains, except it's hiding a little gloom, a little concern. “I just wanted to be kind to you. I saw you were struggling in some of the classes we shared and thought you needed some help. It’s only right to do the right thing, you know?”
In that moment, you regret showing a bit of attitude. Hand to your chest, as guilt occupies your heart and mind. “Oh.” You pause, stare back into those wanting eyes. “I-I guess you were really being kind to me, huh?”
“I don’t make fake answer sheets, let alone give them to people I dislike.” She leans forward, causing you to stagger back, bumping your thighs against the cafeteria stool. “And I like you.”
Your mouth gradually opens, trying to figure out what to say, how to react. Only air and silent noises come out. You genuinely have no idea how to respond to this sudden revelation. It’s not like you’re a popular name among the student body, let alone the ladies; if anything, you were mostly a ghost, only coming into light when needed—and in most cases, when the professors would ask you questions about the topic at hand. 
Blinking rapidly, you needed to do a double take. “Say that again?”
“I like you.” She repeats it for you. Twice. With increasing emphasis on those three words to drive the statement home. “I. Like. You.”
Let that sink in. You still don’t know what to say. “I—”
“We can talk about this later in the afternoon. Meet me at Room 204, okay? I’m in a rush and I just wanted to briefly check on you.” You watch her tone revert back to its beaming, bubbly self with each sentence. Before you even have an opportunity to say anything back, she rejoins her friends and walks away again, waving at you while shouting, “Remember what I told you about the cheat sheet!”
—————
Aside from accounting, where you followed Hanni’s advice down to the letter, the rest of the afternoon kept your thoughts mostly preoccupied with Hanni’s departing words. The two classes you shared with her during that period were opportunities to stare at her, watch her from a distance. Three simple words, and yet there’s layers upon layers to uncover. What did she mean when she said them? You barely interacted for most of the semester, yet she still considers you likable. During those long, painful hours of waiting, your curiosity and anticipation slowly built up.
And then, the bell rings at the top of the seventeenth hour. Time to find out.
While students file out in every direction, celebrating their regained freedom, you make your way through Room 204. Peeking from the outside, you see no one inside, not even Hanni. It looks about the same as when you left it—messy. You’re anxious, hesitant, cautious. There’s a part of you that believes she’s merely playing you in front of her friends, and that she might stand you up as a joke. And you have no reason to believe she genuinely likes you, apart from that one simple act of kindness from earlier.  
For the next few minutes, in those crucial moments of waiting, all your thoughts and presumptions begin waging war inside your head. You have one foot on the door, with the other looking to go home. It’s not the first time you’ve been stood up; you can write an entire thesis report going over each terrible experience and the feeling of bitterness and pining that followed. At the very least, should push come to shove, this wouldn’t be the worst of them—not even bottom five.
So you pace back and forth in front of the designated room, look at your phone, followed by your watch. Again and again. Minutes, stretching to hours, into days, into a slow eternity. You’re starting to lose hope.
Which is why when she comes across you in the hallway, you feel like a kid finding love for the first time all over again. You’re not even trying to hide your excitement. The stunned and relieved expression etched on your lips, the growing shade of red across your face, the hitch in your arms as they reach out to her because you couldn’t believe she would follow through on her word—
And when she flashes her toothy smile, her mouth speaking words you end up missing—you just want to take her by the hand and run away with her.
She ends up calling your name. Twice, thrice, a dozen times—you’re not exactly sure, but you can definitely lose yourself to the sight of Hanni’s presence over and over. With a hand held on the door, she’s telling you to join her inside, saying she has something important to share with you. At least that’s the very gist of it.
At her request, you leave your bag on one of the vacant seats; you end up sharing the same chair. The tension is palpable. Hanni paces back and forth in front of the desk, quietly ruminating, hiding her concerned look away from your eyes. A wakeup call for you that this is a serious matter. You have a lot of unanswered questions, but seeing the gravity of the moment, you conclude that it’s better to keep them to yourself a little while longer—at least once all the heavy air has been cleared. You stand there awkwardly, waiting for her to make the first move.
“I just want to say,” she suddenly says, still turned away from you, long streaks of dark hair covering her eyes. What they can’t hide is the frown on her lips. “I’m going to miss this place. All the profs, all the activities, but most importantly, all the people. Including you.”
“Me?” You’re not surprised at that statement; you’ve assumed she wasn’t going to be here for the long haul, considering she’s an exchange student. What does confuse you, is how she specifically singled you out from everyone else. You barely know each other. At best, you only teamed up for two group projects, which she mostly did the carrying for. For you, the bar has been set very, very low. “How come me?”
Hanni finally faces you, using everything in her willpower not to cry. Her usually lively eyes twinkle with tears waiting to be shed, but she refuses. Not even the warmest of her smiles can hide the somber and pained expression she has looking at you. “Most of the boys here are—excuse my language—a bunch of fucking jackasses and perverts.”
Not exactly wrong; if you weren’t part of an athletics club or hanging out at bars after class, you were likely to be one of their victims. You know this because you are numb to their asshole behavior. The girls would usually retreat in a subtle manner once they knew their presence, which wasn’t difficult to pinpoint.
Rolling your eyes, you reply, “You’re right. I hate their guts too—”
“But you’ve been kind to me from the moment I introduced myself, you know?” Hanni begins to walk toward you, rendering you even more frozen in place. “Even our brief good mornings meant quite a lot. It made me feel welcome.”
You didn’t really think much of it, unaware that it would have this profound of an impact in someone else’s life. And why would you—it’s a habit you’ve been taught since when you were seven. For a moment, you’d think she was being very melodramatic, as if she were practicing theater.
“And—” she pauses, takes a deep breath, “Let’s be honest; I know you like me too.”
When she drops those final words, your eyes pop. Wide. Enough to stretch through your forehead and fly up. It leaves you completely paralyzed. A whole truth bomb dropped just like that. She cusps your hands with hers; you freely allow her. Whether it's from utter shock or the desire to hold her like this for so long, you don’t know, but you definitely want to let this moment linger.
“I-I—” 
You can feel her hot breath against yours, her face inching closer, your bodies almost entangling into something passionate and warm. There’s nothing stopping you both from finally bridging the gap that’s been separating you for the longest time. Hanni, the charming, popular girl that everyone either wants to be friends with or to be her, seemingly knows you like a book read from left to right. More importantly, she likes you. Tells it straight to your face. 
Her arms snake around your neck, leaving you even more suffocated. No longer in her grasp, you find your hands pressed around tiny, fit waist. Her glinting eyes encourage you to let those innermost desires run wild. The suppressed thoughts you’ve been hiding slowly pull you under their influence. You shouldn’t be doing this, yet they’re right there: those sweet, puckery, inviting lips, waiting to be marked, yours and yours alone.
Instead, you end up in a tight embrace. It’s not as romantic as you envisioned. If anything, it’s bittersweet. Deep down, this is her way of saying goodbye, and you’re only realizing what this is really all about. An opportunity to bid farewell on amicable terms. It’s almost cruel that your first substantial interaction outside of school-related activities has to be like this.
You hold on to her tighter. She does the same. You’re unwilling to let go. She doesn’t want to, either.
Resting her head on your shoulder, Hanni whispers in your ear the most calming and soothing tone, “I’m going to miss you.” 
You don’t believe you’ve earned the right to say those words back. So the only thing you can do is hold on to her the best you can—for dear life.
Outside, the setting sun is gradually fading away, and so does the natural light it brings. You can stay here, from dusk to dawn, comfortable in this position if she wants to. 
She opens her mouth again, and she continues to hum and speak melodies in your ear. “I have one thing I want to do before saying goodbye. Can you help me?”
Without an ounce of hesitation, you nod, saying, “Anything for you.”
Hanni breaks the bear hug then leads you along with her to the desk. With the other hand, she lifts it back to her waist, placing herself in a new and unexpected position: her back arched against the table, with one knee bent beside yours. Her eyes glinting with utter desire, she couldn’t be any more obvious. 
Before the realization fully dawns on you, she does the unthinkable. 
A simple irresistible kiss, pulling you down by the collar of your coat. Next thing you know, you have Hanni’s back crooked further against the edge of the desk, your lip-lock turning more and more passionate. Nothing overly dramatic and sentimental—only passionate love making.
She wants it. Deep down, you want it too.
“I can’t—” you mutter, drawing your breath, pulling your lips away. But not your hands. It’s in Hanni’s custody now. Your coat halfway down your arms, she sneakily tosses it aside. “Not here.”
Surprised by your sudden change of heart, she leans forward, her fingers now pulling at the hem of your sleeves. “What’s wrong?”
“I mean—look around, Hanni. We’re in a goddamn classroom.” 
If only you could throw your arms around in protest to prove a point, but even that wouldn’t save you now.
“This is what I wanted from the start.” Hanni pulls you back in, her eyes hypnotic and irresistible, shining like gold. “You wanted this, too. Don’t play.”
“Hanni—”
She stops you right in your tracks with an impulsive peck on the lips. Curling them through the kiss to form a smile, she murmurs, “Don’t think, just do.”
And you do just that. Kiss her, make out with her as if your life depended on it.
Hanni’s lips taste like they’re meant for you. Sweet like honey. Divine. Heavenly. If it were possible, you’d want to choke on your own breath holding onto them for dear life. Not to mention the hums coming out of her mouth, those subdued mewls that she releases whenever you bite on her bottom lip—you can’t help but sink back in whenever you consider the thought of letting go.
There’s no reason not to; you have this pretty little thing, Hanni Pham, all to yourself. Even your body knows how rare of an opportunity this is. With one hand quietly slipping between her pencil skirt, you navigate your way to the depths of her heat without breaking the kiss. In a flash, she throws her head back, snapping her mouth wide at the new sensation. All that cool, calm expression, gone in an instant.
“Fuck—”
“God, Hanni. You’re so wet.” 
She grabs your wrist—that mischievous hand newly buried in her pussy—and urges you further, “Keep doing that. That felt so good.”
And God, does everything about finger fucking her feel incredible. The satisfying squelch of her cunt as your digits press against her warmth, the continuous twisting of her features as she crumbles from the pleasure, leaving her neck exposed for your lips to newly conquer, adding to the overwhelming sensations coursing all over Hanni’s body. Seeing her, this usually larger than life figure, fall under your spell pushes you even further. 
Like Hanni, you’re still young; there’s only pleasure and the thrill of moving too fast and reckless. One day you’ll end up regretting this, ruminating over memories that could ultimately end you before you even started, but you’d rather take this memento than leave with nothing at all. 
You’re both already past the point of no return. Hanni’s underwear hangs casually between her ankles while they’re wrapped around your waist, her neck filled with bite marks and deep shades of red that no piece of fabric can hide. Her dress shirt is partially unbuttoned, revealing a white camisole desperately seeking to be removed, and if that wasn’t enough, she’s made the crucial decision not to wear a bra today.
Fuck, that bulging ache in your pants is so agitating—both physically and mentally. 
“Wait,” you say, suddenly turning around and locking the door quickly, letting her panties fall freely to the floor. It proves to be a little struggle when you unknowingly use your slick-coated hand over your dry one. 
“Should have done that first,” she playfully chides, chuckling at you.
Returning to her with your drenched fingers pointed in the direction of her pussy, you respond, “Should have chosen anywhere but the classroom.”
“You’re saying you’d rather do this during our Christmas party?” Hanni lifts an eyebrow, taunting.
“Only if they allowed it.”
“And all those cheat sheets I handed you, all that for nothing?”
“Shut up. Didn’t need them, anyway.”
Hanni can’t help but burst into boisterous laughter. There’s no use locking that door now.
Even with the little time spent together, there’s clearly magic between you, the signs of what should have been a beautiful relationship. If only you both knew that. But now’s not the time to go over what ifs—only what’s next.
She stops you right as you ready yourself, grabbing the top button of your shirt. Using only her expressive eyes for approval, you steadily watch on till they’re completely undone. You’re left with the job of removing your undershirt and helping her toss your clothes aside. On the other hand, you’re in no rush to undress her completely; she’s a perfect mess as is with her unbuttoned uniform, her panties somewhere between your feet, and her taut nipples poking through the fabric. 
And Hanni wants it that way. You’ve barely entertained the idea of running your fingers through her skirt when she interrupts your train of thought. 
“You haven’t done it yet,” she says looking at your greedy, grubby hands, directing them with hers underneath her garment. “Make me cum. Please.”
As if you had any other intention. Maybe with something better, but that’s usually saved later—and for good reason.
You’re trying so hard not to curse through gritted teeth. Fuck. This. Damned. Skirt. Admittedly, it’s cute and perfectly suits Hanni; it adds to the appeal of seeing this usually meek, well behaved student asking for something more than naughty—it’s downright criminal—but you need to see what makes her really tick. Hanni’s clicking her tongue, growing more frustrated by the second than you are, anxiously waiting for you to come through. Carefully, you push a finger into her, then another, moving in delicate and systemic motion.
Then, it all clicks in perfect harmony:
She releases this pent-up moan from the depths of her chest, as though it were a heave of relief. The initial plunge from earlier makes plunging between her slick folds so much easier. You take a moment to let the satisfying sound sink in: the wet slop of her cunt as it reflexes against your fingers, unable to keep yourself from moaning with delight before you slowly draw back, then in again. 
From there, everything takes care of itself.
Hanni dissolves into a whimpering mess, under the hypnotic spell of your fingers fucking her pussy in tempered, intricate strokes, effortlessly and handily. Body shaking, desk quivering under the pressure of her weight, her hands struggling to find reprieve from the overwhelming sensations thundering all over her. She can barely breathe, let alone find the words to speak. Only quick curses. Each and every word so gratifying to hear.
“Fuck—fuck—its—its—so—good—more—”
You don’t give her any breathing room. In the brief moments when you lax, with your fingers either motionless deep within her cunt or pull back, leaving marks on her inner thighs with her own slick, you’re all over her, gently fondling her and kissing her. Half her uniform’s sleeve has fallen down her shoulder, giving you more of her body for you to claim as your own. With every little touch and thing you do, you continue to set her nerves ablaze with nothing to quench her lust.
It’s no wonder she’s such a teacher’s pet; she loves to follow along without any resistance or objection. A fact proven when you lift her undershirt to expose her taut nipples, and your free hand impulsively takes them. You give her left tit a twist, and from her needy lips comes a sharp whine. 
“Do it again,” she says, panting, nodding her head wildly, visibly overwhelmed. She doesn’t know what hit her, but it feels fucking amazing.
Of course, you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity, even if she hadn’t asked. Hanni’s body, all yours for the taking. Not everyone can say they fucked the top girl in the class in the classroom of all places.
And you let your body do all the talking. No amount of words nor their depth can adequately describe the sensation of tasting and feeling her figure. First your free fingers, then your tongue—they make their mark on her chest while your other digits crawl to a lazy pace inside her cunt. Not that she minds—she’s too engrossed in the blissful sensation to remotely care. Her hands find their way around your neck and back, scratching and digging away at your skin in an attempt to pull you even closer.
It aches—but not as much as the ache in Hanni’s core. As you inch her closer to climax, you can feel her tremble, propping her head on your shoulder now as her outlet, whimpering, crying, mewling. “Almost—” she mumbles, before she’s caught up again in the sea of her own pleasure. Knowing this, the rest of your body moves like it’s second nature. Faster and deeper, you continue your endless assault on her body, until—
Suddenly, Hanni freezes up, moans over your ear as a moment of silent calm follows. In the succeeding moments, you both remain clung together as her orgasm hits. And by god, it hits her like lightning. Sharp and brutal. Fingers stuck deep in her core as she gushes, quivers all over them. It lingers, leaves you both incapacitated.
Minutes that could easily stretch into hours, stuck on a desk, basking in the afterglow of unadulterated bliss. Eventually, she lifts up her head and lets out a deep breath of relief. Her hands remain entangled with your hair as she pulls herself back. A scope down gives you a short but telling extent of the damage: copious amounts of slick dripping on the edge of the table, down to the floor. You’re a little terrified of what your fingers will look like.
Through half-lidded eyes, Hanni flashes you a smile as she slowly realizes the mess she has become. Cheeks flustered with embarrassment, she quickly pushes down her undershirt, but they can’t hide her nipples’ rigidness. You’re both grinning at each other like mischievous pranksters. Something tells you that despite everything, it’s not enough. The fire in her eyes and the confidence in her laugh says it all: she’s looking for more trouble, and one way or another, you’re gonna be her accomplice.
Before you can even utter a word, you both hear a knock on the door. Through the casted silhouette, you recognize that it’s a janitor. Spent energy be damned, you’re brought back to reality. You quickly turn to Hanni in a state of alarm, “Shit. I told you not told to do this in the classroom—”
Reaching out her hand, she replies, “It’s gonna be fine! Give me my bag and I’ll get us out of this.” 
You immediately rush Hanni her bag, and while you hastily put yourself back in one piece, she grabs a pack of tissues to clear all evidence of your little escapade. In no time, you’ve somehow returned the place in nearly the same position you found it. Only one difference: her panties are left on the floor, and she hasn’t bothered to pick them up.
“Wait, your underwear—” you tell her as you pick them off the floor. She’s already on the edge of the classroom, opening up one of the windows to escape. It’s not a suicide jump; only someone with brittle bones could possibly break their legs doing the drop, and there’s really no other choice: run away with her or find yourself at the dean’s office on your first day back after the holidays.
“Keep it if you want.” Hanni shoots you a playful wink and a cheeky grin as she lifts one leg over the open window. “We don’t have much time, so unless you wanna explain yourself to the profs—”
“I’m already in trouble regardless,” you reply as you join her on the way out. You didn’t need to think about what to do. “Got eight missed phone calls from my fam. I’m fucked regardless. Might as well make the most of our time while we’re here.”
—————
A/N: Happy new year! I never thought I’d write something for NewJeans, but never say never. Hanni was easily the scene stealer for me at the Asia Artist Awards, she and the other members constantly waved at us from beginning to end, and they were killer performers! I can see why she’s so adored; she’s both talented and adorable. It’s been difficult getting back into writing after one month away, so this definitely is a feel-out attempt, but I hope it’s still good anyway. Here’s to the coming year and hopefully more to come. Thanks for reading!
P.S. I sincerely want to take this moment to apologize for my slow production. As previously mentioned, I got hit with a severe case of the flu, which kept me down for almost two weeks. Since recovering, I’ve been experiencing weird cases of brain fog, where sometimes my mind ‘isn’t there’ and it feels like my body’s been moving on autopilot. I’ve been getting healthier since then, but the so-called absentmindedness still remains. I’ve tried writing a few times since then, and it honestly feels like I’ve forgotten how to write. Hell, this fic was supposed to be out on Christmas day and I’ve struggled to put it together! It’s been very rough. I don’t wanna make promises because I’ll just end up breaking them, so I’ll just say that I’m trying my damned hardest to get back to that level I had been moving before my momentum stalled. I always want to deliver the best possible fic for you to enjoy. Thank you so much for being patient with me as always <3
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castiwls · 2 months
Text
sparks fly - d.w
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Paring; dean x reader
Prompt; 'Meet me in the pouring rain, kiss me on the sidewalk take away the pain'
Requested; anon
Notes; forever a speak now girly. also requests are open again!
Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist
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“Stop that.” Dean ignores your warning, continuing to grab chips off your plate. “Dean!” You admonish pushing his hand away. He simply grins reaching over to grab another chip before holding it in between you both.
You reach over to snatch it back but he’s quicker, before your hand as much grazes the chip he is happily eating. “Did you even chew that?” You watch with a slight grimace. Dean just shrugs reaching for his drink. “M’hungry.”
“You're always hungry.”
“Damn right.”
A sigh leaves your lips as you stare at him for a moment, an unimpressed look on your face. “You’re a child. A fully grown child.”
He puts the drink down. “So you think I'm cute?” 
You falter. “I never said that.”
Dean grins nudging your shoulder. “You said I'm a child-” He grabs another chip, dodging your hand. “You always fawn over children. You think they're adorable.” He pauses for a moment to swallow. “So you think I'm cute.” 
“That logic…is insanely flawed.” You reach for your own drink. Dean shakes his head. “Holding your cards close to your chest I see. I’ll get you to admit you think I'm cute one day.”
You nodded. “Oh, I'm sure you will.” Your tone was dripping with sarcasm as he reached over again. You were ready this time and quickly slapped your hand over his halting his movements.
He made a small noise of shock. Keeping his hand trapped over yours you leaned slightly closer over the table. “Keep your hands to yourself.” 
He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he held your eye contact. You half expected him to make some snarky comment yet he simply continued to stare at you - almost dumbfounded.
He cleared his throat as you sat back, a small smile playing on your lips as you released his hand. 
He continued to stare as you took a chip for yourself. Internally you were freaking out slightly. The way he’d looked at you…you’d never seen that look before. It left heat bubbling in your stomach as you watched him.
He swallowed again shifting slightly in his seat before seeming to snap back to reality. “Well. Didn’t know you had it in you sweetheart, I’m impressed.” He settled back into the booth, pursing his lips. 
You had him wrapped in your finger whether you knew that or not. He’d been smitten since the moment he’d first been introduced to you. Your own feelings were slightly more…complicated. Sure he was nice to look at and had quickly become someone you could rely on but he was only a friend.
A hand swiping across the table pulled you from your thoughts. “Dean!” 
He grinned. 
---------
“You find anything.” A hand slowly rubbed up and down your leg as you lay on the bed. “No.” You turned your head back smiling at him. Dean lounged happily behind you, his hand moving mindlessly as he thumbed the book in his lap.
He hummed before placing the book down. “C’mon. You’ve been at this all day.” He squeezed your ankle. “You're gonna go cross-eyed if you stare at that screen any longer.” He teased.
You sighed closing the laptop. “I guess you're right.” He nodded before pulling slightly on your ankle. Taking the hint you move around to sit beside him. “You wanna get food?” He asks continuing to trail his hand up your leg soothingly.
“You always wanna get food.”
“I’m a growing boy. I need food sweetheart.”
You frowned. “Your 30 almost.”
He makes a small ‘ah ah’ sound. “You never stop growing.” He grinned down at you bumping his shoulder against yours. “Maybe I also just want an excuse to stare at you for a while.”
A small flush formed on your cheeks at his words. You shoved his arm. “Stop.” 
He shook his head. “You’re cute when you're all flustered.” He couldn't help the laugh which left him as you pouted slightly at his words. He was completely and utterly down bad. He’d long since come to terms with the fact that you made him feel things he’d never experienced.
Part of him thought he’d never experience true love until you’d waltzed into it. He was truly and utterly in love and had absolutely no idea if you felt the same. 
You really did keep your cards to your chest. 
“We can get food.” You said after a moment. He grinned triumphantly squeezing your thigh. “My pick?” 
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “You can pay as well.” He scoffed. “You're a freeloader, You know that right?”
You gasped in offense reaching over to smack his arm but he was quicker. His hand wrapped around your wrist pausing your movements before leaning closer. “You really have a thing for hitting you know that?”
Your breath caught for a moment as you subconsciously registered just how close he suddenly was. If you looked close enough you could almost make out the details of his eyes, how the colour seemed to lighten towards the middle.
Swallowing you felt him squeeze your wrist. “Considering your track record I'm surprised you're not into it.” Your voice was slightly strained as you tried to hide just how flustered he managed to make you.
Dean grinned, his eyes sparkling slightly as he noticed the wavier in your voice. “Well, usually it comes with some sort of reward…you just do it to be cruel.”
You almost choked at his words. What the fuck was happening.
“Hmm.”
Dean grinned leaning slightly closer. “Maybe it’s you who gets off on this.”
A scoff. “You wish. Maybe I just like seeing you be knocked down a few pegs.”
He nodded, his hand still holding your wrist. His eyes searched your face for a moment before pulling back and dropping your wrist. 
He swung his legs off the bed, brushing off his jeans as he stood. “I’ll meet you in the car, yeah.” He said as if everything was normal. As if he hadn’t just left you reevaluating your whole life. “Yeah.” You nodded. “I’ll meet you in the car.” 
You watched him go taking a breath. The fluttering in your stomach seemed to subside after a moment as you stood grabbing your jacket.
What the fuck.
Sure you and Dean were close but that…that was something else. His touch alone had sent sparks tingling down your arm - the sensation was still there.
Taking another breath you gripped the door handle. 
You weren’t in love with Dean Winchester you were sure….weren’t you?
---------
“Do we really have to go out in that?” 
The rain pelted heavily on the car as you both sat quietly. You’d been sat for almost ten minutes and the shower only seemed to get worse. “I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Dean mumbled. “If we run we could make it.” He turned to you. “The rooms on the first floor.”
You looked back out the windshield squinting slightly through the raindrops. “I guess.” You sigh slightly watching the rain fall for a moment. The hunt had been bad. You’d managed to catch the vampire but three people had still lost their lives all because you both looked in the wrong place.
But you’d been so sure that the vampire had been at the club, everything pointed to the club being its hunting ground yet-
“Stop that.” Dean’s voice cuts through the wall in your mind. “Those people dying isn't your fault. We still managed to get the vamp and that's gonna save a whole lotta people.” His hand patted your arm as he looked back to the hotel.
“You’ll feel better after you sleep.”
You hum quietly before nodding. “Yeah…yeah you're probably right.” 
Dean smiles before opening his door and stepping out. The rain soaks through his clothes almost immediately as he comes round your side. “C’mon.” He pulls you out a small gasp if surprise leaving you as the cold rain hits your skin.
It feels good - almost as if it washes away the pain you’d been feeling ever since you’d left the vamps leir. The rain quickly soaked through your clothes, causing the denim to stick slightly uncomfortably to your legs.
“It’s not your fault.” He reached over tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before moving to cup your cheek. “Don’t beat yourself up over this.” His thumb swiped gently across your cheek. 
“I know.” It's barely a whisper, the rain only seems to pick up. It bounced off the concrete hitting off your shoes as you watched him. “Thanks.” You smiled. “We should probably go in” 
He nodded using his free hand to push back his hair from his face. “Yea…” His eyes met yours for a minute, he blinked as a raindrop hit off his eye causing you to laugh quietly. Reaching up you used your thumb to brush it away. 
“I think I know a way to make you feel better.”
“You do?” 
He nodded with a soft hum. “I do.” His voice was quiet as he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours. 
It was different than you’d imagined, softer.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He laughed pulling back. You couldn't help the smile which seemed to grow on your face at his words. “Mhm.” 
You pressed your lips back to his for a moment before pulling back. “We really should probably go inside.” 
Dean pursed his lips. “Hmm. Just…give me one more second.” He tightened his grip on your hip before catching your lips yet again. 
Your own hand tugged gently at the hair on the nape of his neck as he pressed forward deepening the kiss. “Okay.” You pulled back slightly. “I really don’t wanna get sick.” 
“Plus. The room has a bed.”
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taylormarieee · 9 months
Text
Wanna make out in the backseat of my brothers car? Sam Winchester
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Summary: You and Sam planned on just making out but what happens when it leads to more...
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 932
Warnings: PiV sex, Clit rubbing, sensitivity, overstimulation, Kissing, hair pulling kink, praise kink, Sam being an absolute slut, established relationship, Car sex, Dom!Reader, Switch!Sam, Creampie
A/N: Strictly written for my wife @dollyfl1rt for you babygirl
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You have been dating Sam Winchester ever since his last girlfriend died. You took it slow and let him grieve.
You two were like peas in a pod. Always together, laughing, hunting. It was always hard to go on dates considering the circumstances of a Supernatural crime happening all over the world.
Demons, shapeshifters, wendigos, and vampires. It was so much for you yet so exciting and exhilerating.
Tonight you and Sam went out for a little night drive in Deans car. You had to negotiate a plan with him.
Granted it took like two hours of begging, you made him crack. Now here you two were sitting on a hill in front of the city.
"God, it's so pretty, don't ya think Sammy?" You ask, staring and admiring the stars.
"Yea, it is. But not as pretty as you" He says with a shit eating grin on his cute features.
"You are so corny you know that." You say laughing in between sentences.
"Yea, I know." He says laughing with you as he rubs your thigh. "One of the many things I like about you." You compliment.
"He smirks and turns his head towards you shuffling his hand higher up your thigh.
"What other things do you like about me?" He asks. You turn to him and smile.
"I love your hair and how soft it is, I love your face, I love your jawline, and I love your lips and how soft they a-are."
You notice him getting closer and his hand going higher until there under your mini skirt.
His face gets closer until your noses are touching. "You wanna feel how soft they are?" He whispers to you.
He watches you squirm in your seat and you whimper. You frantically nod your head and he grabs your neck and smashes his lips on yours.
You moan in to the kiss and he stars rubbing your clit through your panties. You squirm and whimper at his warm touch on your soaking wet pussy.
"Y-You like that baby?" He whispers into your mouth. You nod and whimper out a 'yes'.
He loved watching you squirm whenever he touched you like this. All in your areas and making you all hot and flustered.
"Sam please, please I need you." You moan out, "I can't sweets, it's my brothers car, He'll kill us."
"Sam I don't really care, we won't have another time. Please Sammy.”
He stares at your glossy eyes and finally gives in. “Ok but this is the first and last time baby, we say nothing to him.”
You nod your head frantically as a silent promise and he grabs your hips dragging you over to him.
You grab his face once your settled on his lap and he reclines the seat as you place your soft lips on his.
He is the one to moan into the kiss now. You begin to grind on him in a slow motion and he groans squeezing the flesh at your hip.
You take of your shirt leaving you in your black bra. He skillfully slides his cold hands to your back and in clips your bra.
You tough on Sam’s hair and he moans. You keep tugging on his hair and he continues to moan out grasping your ass.
You start to grind faster on the rough denim of his jeans. You tug on the hem of his shirt so he could take it off.
He takes his shirt off and unbuckles his jeans and pulls the down far enough to let out his cock.
His boxers are being tugged off by you and you both are rushing so eager to touch and feel each other.
You pump his cock and Sam let’s out the sluttiest moan known to man.
You moan as you slide down on his length. He fills you up so nice.
You begin to bounce on his cock, your breast bouncing all in Sam’s face.
He begins playing with your tits and throws his head back when you roll your hips in a type of way.
“Fuck you feel so good! You fill me up so nice Sammy.” You whimper out.
“You gonna cum inside me Sammy? Please cum all inside me sam.” You whimper out.
“Shit. Holy~f-fuck, I’m gonna cum baby.” He moans out. You roll your hips, grinding on him nice and fast.
You bounce on him non-stop until you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
You feel him shoot his warm seed inside of you nice and deep inside your velvety walls.
“oh f-fuck baby.” He moans out. You continue to bounce on him after his orgasm not letting up and he begins to squirm.
“baby! Ahh~ it’s t-to much!” He whimpers out. You roll your hips on him and finally stop.
He then begins to ram into your tight pussy from below you.
“Cum for me now baby! Come one you can do it sweetheart. So wet for me.”
You whine at his praise and hide your head in his neck and whine incoherent nonsense.
You chant Sam’s name like a prayer. You feel your orgasm approaching and he chuckles.
“Let go mama, let go all on my cock.” He whispers. You moan his name and cum all on his cock.
You shake at the feeling of your pleasure coursing through you.
When you finally catch your breath you look around and notice deans car windows are all fogged up.
“Remember baby, not a word about this, okay?” He asks once again.
“Yea. Yea I know.” You say smiling before kissing him once again.
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Taglist: @itzdarling @dollyfl1rt
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certaimromance · 3 months
Text
࣪ ִֶָ☾. Love or seal?
Dean Winchester x Fem!reader
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Summary: An avenging spirit is killing married couples, so the Winchesters think it's a good idea to use you to pretend to be one and take down the ghost. But the act becomes all too real before you know it.
Words: 1,8k.
TW: mentions of murder, death, violence (normal warnings in the series). so much teasing. a little of angst with happy ending. dean from the early seasons but soft and chaotic (a bit simp). sam being cupid and forgotten lol. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: I've always been a Dean girl and I'm so excited about this. I love the concept of "Frenemies to Lovers" with its more playful and cutie version from the earlier seasons, I hope I described it well.
This is my second time writing here, i'm still new.
♡ Enjoy! ♡
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You took another look in the mirror and walked a few laps around the dingy motel room, trying to swallow the act. It seemed ironic to wear such a fancy dress and high heels in a place like this, but it was all so you could solve the case and prevent more deaths. After all, it was your job to catch the ghosts and put them to rest.
It had been a long time since you'd been out on a date or worn anything other than your usual jeans and leather jacket. Buying yourself a cute dress and wedding rings with one of your fake cards had been entertaining, the closest thing to a normal life you'd had in years.
“Come in, I need help with the zipper on my dress.” You said after hearing a couple of knocks on your door.
You were still standing in front of the bathroom mirror, waiting for Sam to show up to help you so the two of you could leave soon for the restaurant where you both had reserved a table. The strange thing was that the cold hands you felt running down your back and zipping you up were not his, but those of his older brother.
“What are you doing here? Where is Sam?” You turned around to look at Dean once your dress was closed. It was then that you noticed he was wearing a suit and the ring.
“In the room.” He replied, moving closer to you so he could look at himself in the mirror and adjusting his tie with difficulty, he was not used to wearing one at all and felt suffocated.
“Why are you dressed like that?” You asked him after looking him over from head to toe and inevitably biting your lower lip. He looked good, all dressed up and dapper, you could even smell the scent of cologne wafting off him.
“I'll be your husband for tonight.” Dean smiled at you.
You frowned when you heard that the younger Winchester would no longer be your fake husband, because that was not what you had all agreed upon. Sam had always been more husband material, and you trusted him enough to have some physical contact if necessary. On the other hand, you saw Dean as someone who was far from the prototypical perfect partner, and you could barely talk to him without arguing about your differences, never having touched him except for sparring practice or taking away the gun he kept stealing from you. You couldn't deny that both brothers were attractive, but they were almost equally far from meaning anything romantic to you.
“We flipped a coin and I got the job.” He added to the explanation, noticing the confusion on your face.
Finally you nodded, realizing that once again they had not been able to reach an agreement and had had to put luck in the middle for the choice of roles. You didn't mind going with Dean, you had already been on several hunts with him and trusted his skills, but having to impersonate his wife was weird.
“Can you...?” He tried to ask you, pointing at his tie and all the trouble it caused him.
You let out a small laugh at seeing him so confused over a simple tie and went over to him to take it off. You had to tie it all over again because of how badly he had done it before.
“This looks very wife.” He commented as he saw the delicacy with which you were trying to fix his mess.
“I hope the spirit feels the same and is looking forward to slaughtering us.” You replied, taking a step away from him as you finished.
You two said a quick goodbye to Sam and then hopped into the Impala, which took you to a shiny restaurant near the road where the ghost appeared.
“Don't embarrass me, please.” You said to him as soon as you both sat down at the table and placed your order.
“How could I, darling?” He smiled innocently at you and took your hand on the table, caressing the ring on your finger.
You didn't say anything, just smiled back and kept your thoughts to yourself. You couldn't believe he actually called you that, sounding almost like a husband, even though you knew it was because of the acting, it gave you a funny feeling in your stomach. The most you'd gotten from Dean Winchester in all the years you'd known him was a "good job" and a strange smile, followed by a lot of questions about your careless decisions. You alone were far enough away from marriage, let alone someone like him.
“You look very handsome tonight.” You told him as you saw he was drinking water, causing him to almost spit it out in surprise.
Usually you never complimented him, barely looked him in the eye, talked about anything other than hunting, or even laughed at his jokes. It seemed that his presence didn't matter much to you because your interests were more aligned with Sam's and you got along better with him. That bothered Dean a lot, he hated being so invisible in your eyes.
Now, however, you didn't take your eyes off him and even gave him compliments that left him speechless to continue the performance.
“At least the food is good.” You said absentmindedly as the waiter brought the plates.
“And the company?”
You looked into his eyes, trying to understand if he was playing with you or if he was really hurt by your lack of emotion. The strange thing was that you didn't know if it was one or the other, his greenish gaze was a mystery.
“The best company, of course.” You gave him a smile and picked up your glass of wine to make a small toast.
“How affectionate you are now.”
“Yes, I feel almost as if today is the last day of my life.” You said with irony.
Dinner went off without a hitch in a quiet and strangely pleasant atmosphere. You couldn't help but be surprised by Dean's friendliness, it was the first time you had a civilized conversation with him. The first time he held your hand and you noticed how green his eyes were.
Suddenly, everything he said, silly or not, made you smile. The only rational thing to do was to attribute it to the glass of wine he had decided to drink. In general, you didn't allow yourself to drink alcohol, let alone in the middle of a hunt. But now, for some reason, you thought it would help your nerves and relax you a bit.
“Where did you leave the car?” You asked once they left the site and the time to travel the road of death was approaching.
“In the corner over there...I hope.” He answered without really being sure. For him, it had all happened so fast when you two arrived.
“My feet hurt. Don't play with me now.” You said, hating the high heels you were wearing.
At that moment, the hunter stopped and motioned for you to sit on the bench by the exit. Unsure, you obeyed and frowned as he knelt down to gently remove your shoes.
“Happy now?” He asked he asked, holding your heels in his hands.
“I can't walk barefoot.” You claimed, putting on a fake sad face and lowering your gaze to his arms.
Dean shook his head instantly.
“No, don't even think that I'll carry you.” He warned confidently, folding his arms.
A few minutes later, he was silently leading you to the car, snorting at every opportunity to give in so easily to your wishes.
“This looks very husband.” You pointed out with a smile and a teasing tone.
“I would offer you to the spirit right now.” He replied, looking at you with narrowed eyes.
“How lovely you are, my dear.”
The two finally got into the car and headed for the exit. Dean had received a message from his brother telling him that he had found the name of the ghost woman and her grave with her husband, who was the cause of all his resentment against happily married couples, and to top it off, he was buried on top of her.
“Sam is going to burn the grave and everything will be fine.” He said trying to comfort you as he saw the concern on your face. “Maybe the woman doesn't want to kill anyone today.”
“You have too much faith in a murderous spirit.” You sighed and tried to remove the ring from your finger, but it stuck. “And you should take the ring off.”
“Are we getting divorced so soon?” He replied in a joking tone, with his eyes on the road.
You looked at him seriously, this was no time for jokes because everything was going wrong. If Sam didn't dig up those bones soon, they were probably going to kill you both and the plan was going to fail completely. It was supposed to be easy and you were terrified that it wasn't anymore.
“Come on, don't be like that. You were laughing so hard with me.” He smiled at you.
Before you could respond, a pale woman in a blood-stained wedding dress appeared in the back seat. You could barely say Dean's name when the ghost's hand came around your neck and began to choke you. After a few moments, you couldn't even breathe and everything became a blur.
You didn't want to die, at least not at that moment. Not without having lived a life as good as the night before everything went to hell. You still had too many things to do to go like that, let alone in front of him, you couldn't let that happen.
“Don't move.” The hunter said to you before drawing his gun and disputing you to the back seat.
The ghost disappeared for a few seconds and then reappeared just ahead of the road. A braking maneuver as the woman was beginning to burn in front of the two of you almost made you jump out of your seat.
Sam had succeeded.
“Are you okay?” Dean asks, looking at you with concern.
“Yeah.” You said, still trying to catch your breath and process everything that had happened.
“And my thanks for saving you and not letting death part us?”
At any other time, you would have simply made a sarcastic comment and emphasized that it was all thanks to her brother. However, the recent experience had changed something in you and made you kiss his cheek.
Before you could completely pull your face away from his, he put his hand on your cheek and pulled you close. You felt his lips move over yours and responded without hesitation. A big part of you had been thinking about this moment all night and was more than happy it was happening. It was like the perfect ending to a fake marriage date, minus the killer ghost part, and it made you smile in the middle of it.
“You didn't flip any coin, did you?” You asked as you broke away from the kiss for a second.
“No, I didn't.” He admitted, leaving a kiss on your head and making you smile even more.
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nanamiscocksleeve · 3 months
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"I don't know why people complain about sloppy seconds" with pervy professor nanamin after his favorite student shows up to class already creampied by someone else >_< pervy prof nanami drives me crazyyyy
My god people talking to me about pervy professor Nanami are gonna drive me insane, I love him so much. Are you the same anon that participated in the game and mentioned pervy Nanami with the ropes?
(it might be kind of obvious how much I enjoyed writing this. can't help it. I'd be his cum dump if I could).
"I don't know why people complain about sloppy seconds"
--------
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You were his student. HIS STUDENT.
Kento knew better than to get involved with you but something just drew him to you like a moth to a flame. Maybe it was how you were so close to graduating but still looked like an innocent doe-eyed thing, your cute little skirts too short, those thigh-high socks you liked to wear so coquettishly inviting.
He knew you had a boyfriend, he'd seen you two hanging around campus, barely hiding his envy as the two of you got handsy and made out shamelessly in view of everyone. It should be HIM gripping your thigh like that. It should be HIS lap that you sat on while you made out. But with gritted teeth he kept his composure, keeping a cool attitude towards you whenever you were in his class.
Today however, he was distracted the moment you came in. You were walking differently, almost gingerly, like you were holding in a breath. You took deliberate, slow steps to your seat, putting your bag down then turned to talk to a friend, leaning your upper body on the desk. He swears you're doing it intentionally to tease him, to make him lose his goddamn mind, and that was when he saw it; your too-short skirt hiked just high enough to flash him a little strip of your adorable pink panties, a stain of moisture visible, bleeding into the back part of the crotch.
Jealousy hits him in the stomach like a strong punch, practically leaving him winded. You had dared have sex right before his class? With that annoying frat boy who was barely keeping a passing grade? And then had the nerve to flaunt your used cunt in his classroom? Oh, that simply wouldn't do. With a huge effort he grits his teeth and starts his lesson, unable to ignore how you kept squirming in your seat, clearly struggling to keep whatever load your boyfriend had given you inside, to keep it from dribbling into your panties and down your thigh...
It was merciful when he was able to dismiss the class. But he called your name. Your heart skips a beat as you hear his gruff voice but you turn around, wide-eyed and sweet looking, and he feels his cock tighten painfully in his pants.
"Kindly close the door and lock it."
Your breath hitches and you feel like your legs are wooden but you follow his instructions and approach him at the front of the class.
"Is something wrong?" Oh you poor, sweet, lamb, standing there without a clue as to what's going on in your professor's head.
"You need to be more careful of your attire," Kento clips out, not failing to observe the way your nipples hardened under your shirt as he spoke. So he did have an effect on you.
"Excuse me?" you ask incredulously. "Who are you to tell me what can and can't wear?"
"I can if half your cunt can be seen from under your skirt. Yes, that's right," he adds with a smirk as your face reddens. "I saw a lot more of you than appropriate. Were you being intentionally provocative, or are you unaware what an inappropriate length all your skirts seem to be?"
"You-you...!" You gasp at him in embarassment and slight shame, but heat pools in your belly at the knowledge that he had been privy to your upskirt flash. "You perverted old man! I'm telling the dean that you're preying on your students!"
"Hmm go right ahead," Kento says smoothly. "And I'll tell him you're flashing your cunt to everyone that will see. With the way you're dressed, I'm sure there will be no questions left. And to make it even more interesting, I might add that there were...questionable body fluids all over your panties. As a concerned professor, I was only expressing my concerns for my student's well-being." The smile on his face could not be more smug and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his handsome, chiseled, face.
"Is that all? You wanted to lecture me about my clothes?"
"Are you aware how inappropriate it is to come to class with another man's semen in your cunt?" He grins as you look gobsmacked, spluttering.
"I-but I!"
"You were very uncomfortable for the length of the class. I could see you squirming." The grin is positively wolfish now.
"How dare you! You have no proof."
"Then you wouldn't mind showing me your panties? Since you're so keen on proving your innocence."
His words send a thrill down your spine straight to your clit which throbbed under his scrutinizing eyes. You could've said no. But the predatory way he was looking at you, jealousy barely contained made you want to do something shocking and brash. With a huff, you stand.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Kneel on that desk chair." You do so, feeling a little turned on as you do so, then try not to react as Kento's large hands hike up your skirt, revealing the pink panties that were stained with another man's cum.
"So utterly shameless," he growls before bringing his hand down on your ass, the resounding smack satisfying to his ears as your cheek stained red, your squeal of shock echoing through the classroom. Kento covers your mouth and spanks you again, your squirms futile as the slaps filled the classroom. When your ass was perfectly red and bore signs of his handprints, he stops. There were tears in your eyes and you sniffle.
"Aw, is the little slut crying from getting a much needed punishment? Will you remember not to enter classrooms full of cum from now on?"
You gasp as he pulls the panties off, running his hands over your thigh-high socks, then coming to your front to cruelly pinch your nipples.
"Have you ever been fucked by a real man before?" One of his hands drops to your cunt and traces your lips. You whine and try to move, which only results in your earlier creampie trickling out of your cunt, dripping obscenely onto the chair. Kento's eyes go feral at the sight.
"Shameless cumdumpster of a whore," he whispers into your ear, almost lovingly. "Let me show you what it's like to carry a real man's load."
You hear his zip being undone and you find that you don't want to resist him. Your hot professor wanted to fuck you, and you were damned if you said you hadn't thought about it before. His tip lines with your entrance and he slowly spreads your folds apart, splitting you into two and he fills and stretches you. You whimper at how thick he is, how good he felt inside you.
"I don't know why people complain about sloppy seconds," he growls in your ear as he starts to thrust. "Pussy is all nice and wet and slick. You'd been needing a second fuck today hadn't you?"
You moan as he begins to rut into you with abandon, the noises filling the clasroom. "Professor..."
"Professor..." he repeats in a high-pitched mocking tone, the humiliation adding on to your arousal. "That's right, I'm your professor. And I own your cunt. You think your pathetic keg sucking boyfriend has any idea how to please a woman?"
His fingers find your clit and begin to circle it and you cry out, your vision going hazy.
"That's right...real men not only fuck their whores, they satisfy them too."
He continues to firmly stroke your clit and to your embarrassment, you cum sooner than you thought you would, the orgasm hot and intense, something your boyfriend had never been able to achieve. You sob in delight as your pussy flutters around his cock, setting his teeth on edge.
"That's right. Let it all out you pathetic slut. How many times were you fucked and left dissatisfied? When you could have been on my cock, getting off?" He sloppily thrusts into you, lewd wet noises filling the air, then with a bark, feels his ball tighten satisfyingly before emptying themselves into your pussy, hot ropes of thick cum filling the cavern.
"Don't waste it," he says as he withdraws, watching your hole pucker in an attempt to keep it all inside you.
"Now you can go to the rest of your classes knowing what it means to be properly fucked. Tell your boyfriend I said hi later, when he tries to eat you out and tastes only me."
(I am now horny. Any hot professors need a cunt?)
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— BOULEVARD OF BROKEN DREAMS
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SUMMARY : sharing a room with sam when dean has the sex drive that he has usually means he has to be quiet when he’s doing the dirty with his girl.
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : sam winchester
WARNINGS : smut, nsfw (18+), fluff, alcohol, sub!dean, exhibitionism tbh, ✨saliva✨
WORD COUNT : 2.9k
A/N : title from green day’s song. I believe in subby dean and I love him! so, here’s the first dean fic I wanna share. I really appreciate y’all :’) Xx
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Dean grunted softly as he moved his hand up and down his cock. He smirked beside him at his sleeping girlfriend, and then looked ahead at the silhouette of his hand beneath the sheets moving up and down, outlined by the street light shining through the thin curtains. The sound of the sheets ruffling was loud in the nighttime, almost muffling the sound of his cock, and he carefully shoved the sheets off himself while keeping Y/N blanketed.
He closed his eyes, bit his lip and started to picture Y/N sucking his dick. He pictured her awake comfortably naked between his legs with her hot mouth wrapped around him. It was more exciting knowing that she was sleeping next to him, that he was imagining her pleasuring him the way he knew she could if she were awake. He was so turned on, but he was mostly teasing himself, being quiet enough that Sam wouldn’t wake up, but loud enough so that Y/N would.
Sam had gotten drunk with Dean, but unlike Dean, he blacked out as soon as his overgrown body hit the bed. That meant nothing was waking Sam up anytime soon, not a monster, not an apocalypse, not even the way Dean panted trying to get himself off. He didn’t mind edging himself a bit longer, he was willing to wait as long as he had to before she woke up and gave him what he needed. And he needed her real bad, so he wasn’t gonna stop, but he wasn’t gonna let himself finish either.
After the hunt, a successful case of killing a pack of werewolves in the woods, Dean decided to take Y/N and Sam out for drinks. The thing was, when Dean got drunk, he became more clingy than usual and he would start acting cute. He remembered bits and pieces of what he did when he was drunk. From getting her into his lap while he talked to Sam and some random hunter in a green, leathery booth. To the way he clung to her the whole time, when he’d drunkenly gone and played pool with a bunch of idiot college students trying and successfully hustling them.
He remembered constantly kissing her cheek, holding her soft face in his hands to make out with her when he dragged her around the bar finding different things to do with himself. And he remembered flirting with her. He remembered that cute little smile on her face and the even more adorable blush that painted her cheeks when he gave her his famous smoulder.
He remembered that she’d stopped drinking after just one drink. She was taking care of him and Sam. She’d driven them back to the motel and she babied him into bed despite the fact that he was trying to seduce her. He blushed at the memory, the way he kissed her neck and groped her beautiful body, making it hard for her to take his clothes off so he could sleep comfortably.
He moaned softly at a particular twist around his cock, and he changed his fantasy, preferring to imagine all the dirty things Y/N would say to him as she fucked him. He could faintly remember how her walls felt around him, her sweaty body pressed against his, setting his skin on fire with her touch. Her name fell from his lips, spilled into the quiet room, and she shifted beside him at last. He whispered her name again and again, praying that she would wake up and make him cum herself.
He slowed the pace in which he jerked himself off when she nuzzled into his bicep, her soft lips still against his tense muscle. She mumbled something against his skin, but could only hear the sleep in her voice and was unable to decipher a word she said. He gazed down at her and squinted his eyes to make out her face, but he couldn’t see much as she was shadowed by his body. He only felt her hand move down his chest, warm and soft against his body. He gasped, squirmed when she brushed her fingertips against his tummy, and squeezed his eyes shut when she wrapped her small hand over his.
“You’re so loud,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.
“Y/N,” he moaned, letting her fingers replace his. She stroked him lazily, felt her little smirk against his arm when he moved his hips up in search of more friction. “Please,” he whined quietly. He turned his whole body to face her so she changed her hand’s position, squeezing his cock torturously and rubbing her thumb over the leaking slit of his cockhead. “I can’t,” he gasped, pressing his forehead against hers.
She let go of his cock and pressed her lips firmly against his, “I’ve got you, baby,” she murmured against his mouth. His fingers dug into her waist, pulling her closer to him. “What do you want? Tell me, Dean,” she teased, moving her lips along his jaw and neck, thrilled to hear his heavy breaths.
“You,” he whispered, “I need you, need to be inside you right now,” he moaned. He pawed at her hips and started to tug her underwear down impatiently. She giggled, helped him get them off her, and laughed when he hung them over the lamp. He smiled softly at the sound and moved on top of her, settling between her opened legs before he leaned down to kiss her.
He slid his cock through her wet folds, felt her wiggle her hips, and gasp against his mouth when he pressed the head of his cock against her clit. “I thought you were too needy,” she whined playfully. He felt her pout against his lips and pulled away slightly attempting to make her face out in the darkness, only the yellow glow from outside illuminated her. He chuckled at her and grasped her hip, pinning her down to the mattress as he panted against her parted lips.
“You’re such a little tease,” he laughed softly, smirking at her when he sat back on his legs, lifting her legs onto his thighs.
He used the streetlight to guide his cock to her slick entrance, his plump lips parting with satisfaction at the sight of her glistening cunt stretching around his cockhead. He slid into her smoothly and he stared—utterly enchanted, as she took every inch of him until he was buried fully in her warmth.
“Like that?” He asked smugly and she rolled her eyes, her hands flexing on her thighs, squirming from how big he was. Dean smirked down at her when he noticed, swivelling his hips tortuously just to feel the clench of her walls around him. He collected saliva in his mouth and watched it drip down to her pussy, right on her folds.
He licked his lips to clear the lingering spit on his swollen lips and brought his thumb to her clit to smear his saliva over the sensitive nerve. He gently moved his hips against her, turned on at the sight of the black shirt she wore haphazardly scrunched around her waist from the angle he had her positioned in.
He leaned over her, placed his arm by her head, and dropped loving kisses along her jaw. Her heavy breaths mingled with his, the only sound bouncing off the cheap walls besides the gentle sound of the bedsprings. He used various methods to massage her clit until she was squirming beneath him again. Her walls continued to pulse around him, wet, warm, and driving him crazy. “I’m not gonna last,” he whispered shyly against her shoulder.
She pushed up against him gently with her hips, her hands held onto his triceps, so he moved back a little to check on her. “Everything okay?” He asked softly, distractedly slowing down the circles on her clit to study her flushed face.
When she nodded, he kissed her forehead, and started to pull out slightly to thrust back into her again, but he didn’t expect her to shove him back slightly, forcing his cock to slip out of her all the way.
He looked at her with confusion, “wha-“
He caught himself with his arms behind him, stared at her as his shirt she wore slipped down and covered her naked body again. She climbed onto his lap again, “you’re so pretty,” she murmured. Holding his chin with her fingers, she swiped her thumb across his bottom lip and his breath hitched. His cheeks started to warm up at the tingling that followed her finger along his lip and he whined again. “Shh, stop being so loud,” she told him quietly, and leaned forward to silence him with a heated kiss.
He slid his hands between her legs, shoving two fingers into her without a care, pumping them in and out, moaning into her mouth at the squelch his fingers and her cunt made around him. She sucked on his bottom lip and he groaned, grinding his palm against her clit and adding a third finger, feeling like he could cum just from the wetness that started to cover his knuckles and wrist.
“I love it when you get needy,” she panted, moving his hand away by grabbing his wrist. She lifted his wet fingers to her lips and licked her arousal off them, keeping her eyes on his as his lips parted in surprise. “Are you gonna cum?” She teased, placing his hands on her hips under the shirt she wore.
“Stop teasing me,” he whispered, swallowing some saliva to moisten his dry throat. She laughed quietly and he bit his lip, becoming flustered with her confidence. “Please,” he begged softly, lowering her hips to press against his so her wet pussy could brush against his throbbing cock.
She let out a faint hum, letting him fuck himself with both amusement and fascination. He closed his eyes despite wanting to feel demeaned by the look on her face and got lost in the tiny fragments of pleasure he was feeling. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder, focusing on teasing her soaked entrance with the soft head of his cock until she gave in and shifted to let him slip inside her.
“Fuck… yes,” he moaned, gripping her hips tightly as her warmth and her slick coated his cock. She ground her hips against his, squeezing his cock until he whined and bucked his hips up into her. “Fuck, don’t do that,” he hissed.
She chuckled mischievously, then shushed him as she slowly rolled her hips against his, his mouth parting. A broken moan left his lips, but it was immediately muffled by him when he bit her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. He thrusted his hips upwards, slowly moving in and out of her until she was pushing him onto his back and riding him.
He screwed his eyes shut, biting his lip so hard he thought he’d taste his blood soon. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, bruising her soft skin with his desperate touch. His eyes fluttered open to watch her lift herself up and down with her lips parted and swollen. He felt like cumming just at the sight of her and she must have expected a loud moan to fall from his now open mouth because she put her hand over it just as a groan rumbled in his chest, deep and hot.
Her walls spasmed around him, a quiet curse falling from her lips. She looked over at Sam cautiously, picking up the pace and keeping her hand over his mouth. He felt even more turned on, noting the way she shifted her hips to add friction to her clit. He whined against her hand, desperately meeting her thrusts as the bed springs started to squeak louder.
He didn’t even care if Sam woke up anymore, he tugged her hips forward, wanting her full attention on him. He felt his cock swell and twitch inside her, so close to spilling hot inside her. She was driving him crazy, especially with the way her walls squeezed his cock so tight as if it would shut her up.
It drove him over the edge and he came inside her almost involuntarily. Another moan from him heated her palm. She gasped from the unexpectedness of it, leaning over him, her soft hair tickling his skin. She moaned loudly into the bed, pressed her face into the sheets by his head as she trembled and came on his cock. Her warm walls quivered and dripped around him, her hips moving on his cock slower as she rode out her orgasm, his sweaty skin sticking to hers.
She turned her face slightly, her warm breath tickling his ear. He lifted his hand up to move her hair behind her ear and she removed her hand from his mouth, resting it over his thumping heart. They both laid there for a few moments, unmoving, panting in an attempt to catch their breaths and clear their hazy minds. He lovingly pressed kisses along her cheek, temple, and the tip of her ear, rubbing his hand up and down her sides under her shirt.
“That was so hot,” he said after a while, sounding breathless and hoarse. She laughed tiredly and she started to lift the top of her body off him, only to lean forward and kiss him deeply. He was smiling, his mouth readily open for her. His tongue slipped into her minty mouth, soft tongues rolling over each other languidly.
Both of them smiled into the kiss and he wrapped his arm around her waist, moving her onto her back and slipping out of her, careless about the mess he was making between their bodies. She hummed softly against his mouth, a little laugh making her part from his lips. He continued to admire her, fixing her sex hair as best as he could before he dropped a kiss on her forehead, trailing his lips down to her warm cheeks and neck.
“We have a long drive tomorrow, D,” she murmured, her nails gently scratching his scalp, “you should sleep now, I’ll take care of the mess.” He moaned quietly, agreeing with her, pressing his face into her neck and kissed the spot his lips were closest to.
“Mkay,” he mumbled, moving up off her. He looked around for his boxers and felt the bed shift as she made her way to the restroom to clean herself up. He grabbed her underwear off the lamp and grabbed his phone, using the lowest light level to check if they’d stained the sheets.
Despite having told him she’d take care of it, he didn’t listen. He shoved the clean sheets away, feeling both shy and prideful at the mess, and pulled the dirty covers off to hide them as best as he could and replaced them as quickly as he could with clean ones he always made sure to ask for beforehand when they got a room.
He moved out of bed when he was done, waddling to the bathroom with her underwear in his hand. He smiled fondly when he found her washing her hands with the water hardly turned on so it wouldn’t be loud and wake Sam up.
“Your underthings,” he said with a grin, holding them up for her. She turned to look at him and chuckled, drying her hands with a towel to take her underwear from him. “Allow me, my love,” he said dramatically, stopping her from taking them. She gave him a look but played along.
He squatted down in front of her and lifted her leg with his hand around her ankle. She held onto his shoulder for balance, allowing him to help her into her underwear with an amused and affectionate smile on her face that glowed in her eyes.
“Thanks, Dean,” she murmured. She pecked his lips when he stood back up to her face, after having pulled the soft cotton up her legs and comfortably in place around her hips. He squeezed her ass playfully, drawing a laugh from her.
She followed him with her eyes when he moved towards the sink to wash his hands with soap and warm water. She waited for him patiently, leaning against the doorway and playing with the hem of the black t-shirt. She admired him this time, took in the messy and soft spikes of his hair, his teeth pulling at his plump lip. He was gorgeous and he looked over at her, his eyes warm and loving as he took her in too.
“Let’s go to bed, my little flower.” Dean dried his hands with the same towel she used and reached out for her hand, seeing her roll her eyes and snort at the new pet-name he was trying out for her. “You know you like all the names I give you,” he smirked down at her, turning the lights off after her to make their way back to bed.
“I do,” she admitted after a while, biting her lip to stop her happy smile. He could see her thanks to the bright lights outside and the drawn curtains. A delightful feeling filled his stomach and made him feel warm all over. He took her face in his hands, giving her the type of kiss people would give each other if they were saying hello after missing each other their whole lives.
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taglist
@spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx
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main masterlist
dean winchester masterlist
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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 
do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform
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thebiggerbear · 5 months
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"You're safe now, I'm here." - Soldier Boy Prompt Response
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Summary: Soldier Boy has been on a ton of dangerous missions in his time, fought a lot of battles, but never did he imagine he would be undertaking the one you had just tasked him with. Shit.
A/N: This is a prompt from @sydnee-kom-spacekru. A sort of sequel to the prompt response for "Sleep. I'll keep you safe." Been working on this since January 3rd. I had way too much fun with this one.
Happy Mother's Day to all of the mothers out there, all of the fur baby mamas, and all those who celebrate!
@deans-spinster-witch this is what popped into my head when you said "dangerous mission" lol. Once it was in there, I couldn't get it out. I hope it's decent and that you like it.
Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.
Warnings: Soldier Boy being himself; some misogyny; some homophobic language; some antiquated thinking (SB); angst; a lot of mentions of shit (yes, literal shit); language (I guess?); some smut; mention of breeding kink; a bit of a lactation kink (I know they did the Coke and milk thing in the show but you can't tell me he wouldn't have at least been on the verge of this kink if the opportunity arose)
Word Count: 11k+
Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel
SB Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy
“You’re safe now, I’m here.”
SDV Leah version ✨ Russell Shaw version 1 & 2 ✨
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Ben let out an aggravated sigh for what felt like the fortieth time and turned back to the table, his nose wrinkled. He glanced down and saw his daughter’s wide eyes watching him as she kicked her little legs, slobbering all over the fingers of one hand she had in her mouth. He made a face and shook his head, remembering when he told her “You’re lucky you’re cute, kid”, when she’d done the same thing about an hour before. He didn’t know what was so tasty about those fingers especially when there were other tastier options available. 
Speaking of which, you just had to pick the fucking perfect time to do your pumping shit so he would be stuck doing this shit, in the literal sense of the word. Ben thought he’d been on dangerous missions before but nothing ever made him want to retreat in the other direction more than the one he was about to embark on. The smell wafted up to him once more as the baby kicked her legs again.
“Christ, this kid fucking stinks.”
“Language!”
He rolled his eyes and glanced back over his shoulder, though he couldn’t see you. “It’s not like she understands what the fuck I’m saying!”
“Ben! We talked about this!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, turning back to his little girl. “No cursing around the baby,” he mocked you in a high voice, smirking when a small smile formed on her face.
Another wave hit him and he held a hand up to his nose. “Are you almost done in there?” He complained.
“No! I still have a little more to go.” He knew that; he could hear the machine still making its weird noises almost as if it was next to his ear. He hated and loved that thing. Hated it because it was so damn loud to his ears and it ruined a perfectly sexy image in his head when he first saw you doing it. Loved it because it was helping your body do one of the natural things it was designed to do and it also allowed him to get some one on one time with you out of the house for the occasional few hours if you could get Elena or Queen Lesbo to babysit. As a matter of fact, as harsh as the sounds were and how unsexy it was, it got him downright hard sometimes when he thought of either scenario because both brought it all back to sex for him. Either he was daydreaming about fucking another baby into you while watching you or he was thinking about how he was going to be fucking you later that evening when the two of you were alone. This time, though, it was going to be neither. 
You were getting ready to go out to have lunch with Elena, have some girl time or some shit. Whatever the fuck that meant. It certainly wasn’t what he’d been thinking the first time you mentioned it, which to him was a complete fucking wasted opportunity. He wasn’t into Elena at all or The One-Eyed Bitch Queen but he was definitely into seeing you get off. Just as long as it wasn’t another guy, he was good with it. But instead, his hopes had been dashed when your expression of disgust transformed into you pinching the bridge of your nose and explaining what girl time for you actually meant. His annoyance grew (and his nerves skyrocketed though he would never tell you that) when you mentioned he would be the one babysitting this time. He wasn’t happy but neither were you and when it came down to it, you were the victor of that argument.  
And now he had this shit on top of it, pun very much fucking intended. Needless to say, Ben was beyond done at this point.    
“Just change the diaper already,” you urged, your tone strained with the last threads of patience. “The longer she stays in her own mess, the more likely she is to get a rash and possible infection. Then she will be in pain and she’ll have to see the doctor. We don’t want that to happen. I’ve told you this time and time again and I’ve shown you how to do it. No more excuses, Ben. Just change it.”
Ben could feel his ire rising. “So you want me to do what you should be doing? I’m not the goddamn woman here!” He regretted it as soon as he said it. He heard you turn the machine off and he knew he was in for it now.
“What did you just say?” He heard you ask menacingly from the other room. Oh fuck. He knew he had about ten seconds to turn this around or the rest of the day and night were going to be shit. Worse than the actual shit he was smelling. He’d be lucky if he’d be able to sit next to you at the table later at dinner, never mind touch you again for the next few days.
“Nothing,” he grumbled, pulling a new diaper from the open package next to him and glancing down at the squirming baby in front of him. He was relieved when he heard the machine start up again and leaned over the table to lay down the law to his daughter. “Alright, look, kid, we gotta make some sort of deal here. You can’t be shitting up a storm and stinking up the place while your mother is out. Piss I can deal with. Puke, bad but doable. Shit…no fucking way.” He began to unbutton her onesie, screwing up his face in disgust as the smell slapped him in the face. “So if you really care about your old man and you want him to be happy, you’ll stop shitting all over the goddamn place. Got it?”
The baby gurgled back at him and he saw more drool coming out of her little mouth. 
Ben shook his head, giving her a sharp look. The least she could do was not look so happy about him having to do this for her. He gently pulled her legs out of the onesie as you’d shown him how to do (he ripped one too many the first week she was home) and he frowned when he saw a damp brown stain, the smell becoming even worse. He lifted her legs and as he’d suspected, the shit was fucking everywhere, having catapulted past the edge of the diaper and down her back. He briefly shut his eyes and looked away, groaning loudly, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He attempted to take a breath that didn’t smell like he was wading around in the worst shit someone ever took. Like he was that little bastard Termite and he’d shot too far off the mark. 
“Now what?” You yelled back.
“She shit everywhere! It’s all up and down her back.” He looked back down at his daughter. “Really?” Another gurgle. “Christ.”
“Yeah, because she’s been sitting in a full diaper for the last thirty minutes while you’ve been non-stop complaining about it, that’s why! Just get her cleaned up and into a new diaper, some new clothes, and then put her in her bouncy chair so you can clean the table. Or if you’re feeling adventurous, give her a bath. A bath is probably better.”
“Why don’t you come in here and fucking handle it then? I’ve told you, my sense of smell is about ten times what yours is!”
You huffed out an aggravated breath. “Because you have to learn how to take care of her, Ben! You’re her father for God’s sake. You should be able to handle one damn diaper change without being a child about it! What if I wasn’t here anymore? You’d be the one doing it all then.”
He straightened up at that, glaring back in your direction. “What do you mean if you weren’t here? Where the fuck would you go?”
“Language, Ben! Jesus!”
His jaw clenched and he turned back to grab a fresh wipe or five. He bunched them up in his hand and lifted the baby’s legs and began to wipe. There was so much shit, the wipes were filled instantly and it got onto his hand. “Fucking hell!” His daughter’s smile faded and she began to look as if she were about to cry. 
“What now?” You snapped. 
“It’s all over my goddamn hand, that’s what!” He bellowed.
“Well, wipe it off, get her cleaned up, then wash your hands.” There was no compassion in your tone, only irritation.
Ben should have shut the fuck up right then and there, and just done what you’d tasked him with. But, he was fucking done and livid at your obvious lack of sympathy. “This isn’t my fucking job! It’s yours! You should be doing this! Real men don’t change their kid’s shitty diaper! Women do!” 
The machine shut off again but this time, Ben didn’t give a fuck. He’d had it. He knew you’d be pissed at what he’d just said but too fucking bad. It was true, whether you liked it or not. No matter what today’s society had to say or not. Women were the caregivers, the nurturers or whatever the fuck he’d heard on that bald-headed doctor’s show the other day, the givers of life or some shit. Real men did their job in making the kid, being the father, and putting food on the table for his family while also providing a roof over their heads. That’s how it always worked and that’s how it should still be today. He’d done his job: he’d protected you, knocked you up with his kid, and stuck around to be its father, even after finding out it wasn’t going to be the son he’d initially hoped for. And here you were, trying to get him to fucking play Mr. Mom so you could go out for a few hours and get some girl time that wasn’t even going to reap any benefits for him after you’d left the kid with him all afternoon? No fucking way. His jaw tightened as he heard you approaching quickly. He didn’t care how pissed you were; he wasn’t backing down. 
But just then, the baby began to cry, having been scared by him yelling angrily (and probably because she was wet and uncomfortable and had been for some time now). He glanced down at her, his jaw unclenching and his features softening slightly. Fuck no. Ben could withstand a lot of shit (minus actual shit), and not a lot affected him, but his daughter’s cries? And because of him? That was his kryptonite. “No, no, no. Don’t cry, Princess. Daddy’s sorry he yelled, okay? He didn’t mean to scare you,” he quietly soothed. He went to pick her up to hold her, forgetting that she had shit all over her, and he only realized it when it dripped all down the front of his shirt and his hands and arms were covered with it as he balanced her against his chest. “Ahhh shit!” The baby began to cry louder.
You appeared, the top of your dress fixed and buttoned, a furious expression on your face. You held out your hands. “You’re safe now, I’m here,” you spat. “Give her to me.” 
Ben glared down at you. He had been spoiling for a fight a moment ago but after the baby started to cry, some of the fury went out of him, and apparently right into you it looked like. “Listen, don’t get all pissy because—”
“I said,” you snapped. “Give her to me.”
Ben shot you a look but did as you said. He watched as you got shit all over you but you didn’t even flinch. Instead, you snatched the fresh diaper from the table and unfolded it to place behind your daughter’s poop chute before grabbing the canister of fresh wipes and a towel. You didn’t even look at him as you passed by him to head into the bathroom. Fuck, he was definitely in trouble.
He grimaced down at his messy shirt and removed it, balling it up and throwing it into the baby’s laundry basket. He made his way to the open door of the bathroom, stepping in to wash his hands and forearms at the sink as he watched you in the mirror, sitting on the edge of the tub and filling it with water, the baby’s own tub inside it. You were cooing at your daughter who wasn’t crying anymore but letting out little whines that threatened to extend back into a crying jag if need be. The baby was unhappy and from the looks of it, so were you.
He dried his hands as you began to use the fresh wipes to clean your daughter. “There we go, Ellie,” you murmured. “We’re going to get you all nice and clean, okay?”
Hearing your soft-toned reassurances to the baby, Ben figured now might be as good a time as any to try to start melting away some of your anger with him. He cleared his throat. “If you want, you don’t have to use that thing. I can get in the tub with her. I have to clean up anyway.” He gestured to his bare chest but you didn’t even look up.
“I think you’ve done quite enough today, thank you,” you answered, your tone full of ice. Yeah, he was in fucking trouble. Fuck.
“Don’t be like that. I’ve told you, my sense of smell is ten times more powerful than yours. I tried and it just didn’t work out.” He crossed his arms, his jaw tight. Why would you be fucking pissed at him? He tried his best. He got shit all over for him as a result for Christ’s sake. And he only spoke the truth.
“And what the fuck do you think this is? Chocolate? Paint?” You gestured to the shitty fresh wipes sitting in the diaper and to your ruined dress. That wasn’t what stopped him short; you never cursed in front of your daughter. 
You continued to carefully clean the baby in your lap. “I told you when I found out I was pregnant that I would do it myself. You could take off and go do whatever you wanted to do after you held up your end of the deal. You could go get high, get drunk, fuck a ton of women, play at being a superhero — whatever. But no, you said you wanted to stay. Insisted on it, actually. I told you then.” You threw another freshwipe into the diaper and grabbed a clean one. “If you stay, if you really want this, then you need to be all in. Do you remember that?”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I am all in.”
“You call this all in?” You gestured towards the messy baby who had her hands in her mouth, watching her mother, tears still dotting her eyes. 
Ben started to feel uncomfortable, something almost like shame itching at his skin, and he didn’t care for it. He dropped his gaze to the ground. “So I didn’t change one shitty diaper. You don’t need to make a big fucking deal over it.”
“Ben,” you seethed. “Look at me.”
He reluctantly glanced up at you, still annoyed. 
“She’s your daughter and she can’t do these things for herself right now. Sometimes it’s going to be messy and sometimes it’s going to smell so bad you gag. And yeah, sometimes it’s going to make you uncomfortable, but you push through all of that because you’re her father and you love her no matter what. Because you want to take care of her, to make sure she is healthy and happy every single day. She’s our responsibility for the rest of our lives. It’s no longer about you, me, or anyone else. It’s about her. Just her. That’s it.”
He unclenched his jaw, hearing the seriousness of what you were saying, the truth he didn’t want to think about underlying your very words. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his daughter, he did, but why were you so insistent on giving him the dirty work? You knew how he felt about doing this type of shit. Not to mention, it felt like you were trying to shame him for not wanting to change one fucking diaper, like you were implying that he wasn’t a good father if he didn’t waltz into the nursery, smiling and eager to do it. He was a good father and a damn good provider. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t even have this place to call home. He was the one who sacrificed and played nice with the old bitch and Butcher. Hell, If it wasn’t for him, neither of you would even be here right now! 
Ben hated himself when he had that thought. What the fuck was wrong with him? But since he didn’t want to look at that too closely, instead he turned it back on you. 
“I don’t need you lecturing me on how to be a father. I am a good father, goddammit! Hell, I’m a better father than my old man ever was. I provide for her and you every single day. I gave up everything to protect you, be with you, and be there to take care of my kid. Which is a lot fucking more than some of the other dames I’ve knocked up over the years can say. I put my life on the line for you both! And this is the thanks I get? Because I didn’t change one shitty fucking diaper?” He scoffed. “You are one ungrateful bitch.”
Your eyes widened slightly and Ben regretted his words the moment they flew out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say those things, not to you.
Your eyes dropped to your daughter in your lap who was staring back up at you. You nodded and after a moment, you scowled up at him. “Well, since we’re such a burden and keeping you from your great life…don’t let the door hit you on your misogynistic and spoiled ass on the way out.” He could see your eyes shimmering but he could also see the absolute fury and ice daggers you were shooting him with, too. He knew then just how badly he had fucked up. 
“Y/N, I—”
“I mean it. Get your shit and leave. I’ll do this alone just like I planned to all along anyway. There you go, you’re free. No more nagging from this ungrateful bitch, no more having to act like you give a shit about either of us, no more being weighed down. You’re free to go and get fucked up and drink all you want, Soldier Boy. Go knock up some more dames and then leave them to raise those kids all on their own, too. You know, like a real man does.” If your glare could kill alone, Ben would be six feet under right now, the one thing that could end him that the Ivans never found out about. 
You placed your daughter in her little tub and stormed over to him, shoving him out the door. You couldn’t really move him but he was so caught off guard at your outburst, your words, that he moved where you pushed him. “And best of all, no more shitty fucking diapers!” You slammed the bathroom door in his face and locked the door, knowing it wouldn’t keep him out if he wanted in, but the message was clear. You were done and you were willing to go it alone; you didn’t need him and you had enough of his bullshit. He’d not only heard it in your voice, your words, but he’d also seen it in your eyes. That hurt way more than he ever thought it would.
He stood there staring at the door, stunned. His daughter began to cry and he heard you soothe her with “Shhh, it’s okay, sweetness. Mommy’s here. We’re going to get you all cleaned up and feeling better in no time. Don’t you worry, Ellie.” You began to coo to her as you bathed her and before long, she was making happy noises again. You’d even made her laugh once.
Ben stood there, not feeling right about what just happened or that his family was on the other side of the door. He could break it down if he wanted to, you both knew that, but he wouldn’t. Nor would he break the lock to get in. He knew he had let his irritation get the best of him and he’d said some things that he couldn’t take back, no matter how he might try to apologize now. Why the fuck had he said those things, anyway? 
He loved the life you had now (minus the shitty diapers obviously) and the family you’d started to build. Hell, he loved you, something he hadn’t ever really felt before for a woman other than his mother. He thought he’d felt it once with Crimson Countess but he’d been wrong. What he thought he felt for her paled in comparison to what he actually felt for you. Not just for having his kid but also for loving him and not the suit. Yes, you’d gone to him for protection and yes, he’d done his best to take advantage of that fact, but something genuine formed between the two of you. Before long, he wasn’t just protecting you to hold up his end of the deal, he was also protecting you because he couldn’t bear to lose you. He was over a century old and he had never come across someone like you before, someone who actually saw worth in him as something more than a quick lay or a celebrity or a supe. Someone who worried for him when he left your sight or took on one of your would-be assailants. Someone who actually wanted to build a life with him — with him, not Soldier Boy. 
So why the fuck had he said those things? He knew why. You had made him feel ashamed that he hadn’t gotten the job done, that he hadn’t completed the one mission you’d given him and you hadn’t even left the house yet. You’d had to come in and rescue him, do the task instead, and you hadn’t balked or even thought twice about it.
You were softly singing to Ellie and he could hear a couple of breaks in your voice, betraying how upset you really were though you were trying to hide it for your daughter’s sake. 
Ben hung his head in shame when he heard you get choked up and stop for a moment, sniffling, before you started back up again. He threw on a fresh shirt and got to work cleaning the shit from the changing pad and this time, he didn’t complain.
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Ben watched as you carried the baby into the room, still not looking at him. You saw that the table was clean and moved over to place your daughter on it, grabbing the clean onesie he’d set aside and began to dress her. “You’re still here?” You bit out though he could detect a hint of genuine surprise there, too. 
“Still here,” he murmured, hoping you would hear how sorry he was without him having to say it.
You finished buttoning up the onesie and popped the pacifier into Ellie’s mouth that he’d left out for you. “Think you can manage to watch her while I take a ten minute shower?”
“Since when do you take ten minute showers?” He’d meant it as a teasing question, to try to lighten the mood a little, but you turned a glare onto him, beginning to unbutton the top of your dress. 
“Forget it. I’ll put her in her bouncy seat and bring her in with me. You can go.” You went to pick up the baby when he held his hands out.
“I can watch her. Go take your shower.”
He could see the clear distrust in your eyes but you handed him your daughter nonetheless but not before you kissed her head. “Mommy will be right back, Ellie,” you whispered, stroking her back. You glanced up at him, unsure, but then turned to make your way to the bathroom, continuing to undo the fastenings on your dress. He let out a huge sigh when he heard the door snick closed and the shower start up.
“Daddy’s in big trouble, Princess,” he murmured to Ellie. She gazed up at him, going to town on her pacifier, her brows drawing together slightly from the effort. He smiled and dropped a kiss down on her little forehead. “That’s one thing you have in common with your old man. We love the nipples.” He chuckled under his breath, imagining just how hard you would roll your eyes and swat at his shoulder if you heard that. But instead, he heard a much more heartbreaking sound from you. You were crying…in the shower. Fuck. 
At that moment, he heard a car slowing down and pulling into the driveway. One glance out the window confirmed it was Elena. In the midst of all this, he’d forgotten you had plans for the day. Just then, he got an idea and hurried towards the front door. He had just reached it by the time Elena was about to push the doorbell. He whipped it open, making her jump in surprise. After she saw it was Ben with the baby in tow, she recovered quickly. “Oh, hey Ben. Is Y/N ready yet? Hi, Ellie.” She gave a tiny wave to your daughter, smiling.
“Uh, not yet. She’s in the shower. Hey, can you watch Ellie for a few? I’ve got something I need to do and I can’t take her with me.”
Elena seemed uncertain for a moment, studying him as if she were wondering what he was about to do, but then relented with a shrug. “Sure.” He opened the door wider for her to come in and once she had put her coat and purse on a chair, he handed Ellie over to her. 
“Thanks. Be right back, Princess.” He stroked the back of the baby’s head with his fingers before hurrying out of the room, intent on doing whatever he had to in order to make things right.
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Ben quietly slipped into the bathroom, undressed, and snuck into the shower behind you. You had stopped crying after the doorbell sounded so you most likely knew Elena was here and waiting. You were rubbing suds-covered hands all over the front of your body. 
While you cleaned your front, Ben’s eyes roamed over your back. He was already predictably hard, just seeing you naked. You had the perfect ass and even though you still had some baby weight that you were trying to lose, in his eyes, you were fucking gorgeous. You had mournfully admitted a couple of weeks ago that your stomach was soft and you were embarrassed by the visible stretch marks and your wider hips, not to mention the few pounds sticking around. Your breasts were bigger (something he didn’t see as a problem), the areolas darker than ever before, and you were feeling a bit insecure about your new shape. He loved the new you, which he made sure to tell you over and over as he fucked you that night. You were the mother of his kid, you’d given birth to her, nourished her from your body, and you could give him even more. It endlessly fascinated him that his seed had taken root in you and a healthy child grew from it, one that was half you and half him. He’d literally fucked a baby into you and every time he saw you like this, he wanted to do it again (though you’d told him your body needed at least a year or two to recuperate before you could even entertain the idea of another pregnancy). You looked so fucking gorgeous carrying his kid and now, you were even more beautiful if that was possible. It was pure beauty that he saw when you breastfed his daughter, when you smiled down at her, talked to her, and rocked her to sleep. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t want you, on your back (or your hands and knees, he wasn’t picky), taking load after load from him until he knocked you up once more. 
So he had been dumbfounded and almost incredulous when you nervously admitted all of this to him, implying that maybe he didn’t find you attractive anymore and maybe he’d prefer a flat-stomached, tighter, younger, free-to-bang-all-day woman instead. That or some old lady. He’d fucked that notion right out of your head.
But now as he stepped toward you, not only was he incredibly turned on by you and how beautiful he still thought you were, but he also realized right then, just like he had many times before this moment, you were the only one he wanted. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your wet shoulder.
You let out a small gasp in surprise. “Where’s Ellie?”
“Elena’s got her.” 
“Well, I’m not doing anything with you in this shower so you might as well get out,” you snapped and attempted to wriggle out of his embrace. When you couldn’t, you huffed out an aggravated breath and went back to rubbing soap over your skin. 
He nosed your wet hair out of the way to get closer to your ear. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never should’ve said that shit.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” you muttered, gliding soap down your arms. 
“I love you,” he murmured to the skin of your neck before dropping a kiss. “I love my little princess.” Another kiss. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Really? Because it sounds like you want to be somewhere else.”
“No, I don’t,” he assured. “I told you when I knocked you up. You two are it for me.”
You slowed down your movements and he took the opportunity to hug you a little tighter, burying his nose underneath your jaw. “I mean it, doll. This is right where I want to be.” He slowly ground his erection into the small of your back to also illustrate his point. He meant every fucking word; with you, around you, in you — there was no other place he’d rather be. 
You attempted to turn around in his arms and he loosened his grip so you could. He nearly let out a soft groan at the feel of your soap-slicked skin sliding against his dick. You stared up into his eyes and the smirk that formed on his face was beyond dirty, thinking you two were about to get to the fun part, your argument a thing of the past when you cupped his bearded cheeks in your suds-covered hands. 
“Ben,” you whispered. “I need to know that if something happens to me…that you’ve got this with Ellie.”
Ben’s grin morphed into a frown and his brows furrowed. “What the fuck are you talking about? What do you mean if something happens to you?”
Your eyes began to glisten and his heart dropped inside his chest. What the fuck hadn’t you told him?
“Did some cocksucker threaten you?” He growled menacingly, the rage he worked so hard to tamp down for yours and Ellie’s sakes was attempting to breach the surface at the thought of someone even thinking about hurting you. Mallory had said you’d be safe here; had the old bitch lied?
You shook your head and that only helped to quell the fire burning deep within slightly. A light appeared on your face and you glanced down as it got brighter, eyes wide in fear. “Your chest is glowing. Ben, stop! You need to calm down.” 
He took deep breaths as he’d learned to do, telling himself that you were here in his arms, right now, and you were safe. You were not in any danger. Hearing the sounds of his daughter a few rooms away helped him to get this fucking thing inside of him under control. He hated it, hated what the Reds had done to him, but it was now forever a part of him. He would do whatever it took to keep you both safe, even from this goddamn weapon inside his chest.
When you met his eyes again, there was no more light, no more glow lighting up your face from below. You lifted yourself up on your toes and brushed your lips against his. “Thank you,” you whispered. 
Ben nodded and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you up against him. He nuzzled you, feeling much calmer than he had a few moments before, but he still saw the same worry in your gaze that he’d seen before his inner nuke started to fire up. “Talk to me,” he implored.
You pressed your lips together and briefly looked away and he knew you didn’t really want to say what you were about to. It made him incredibly nervous. While you two had argued before and you’d told him to go when he was being an ass…what if what you meant was that you wanted out of this? Fear immediately took hold of him — fear of losing you, fear of losing Ellie, and all because he’d been a stupid fuck who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. You both were the two best things that had ever happened to him since being injected with Compound V. He didn’t want to go back to before. He only wanted now and the two of you. Hell, he wanted to keep creating a family with you, the family he’d always desired but never had. What had seemed within his grasp just hours ago now seemed to be getting further and further away. 
That thought had him speaking — no, downright begging. Soldier Boy begging…only for you. “Look, I know I’ve been a dick and I said some really fucked up shit earlier but I didn’t—”
You gently placed your fingers against his lips, effectively stopping him. You stared up at him sadly and that fear kicked into high gear. Fuck, he was losing you. And all because he hadn’t been able to keep his goddamn mouth shut or change one fucking dirty diaper. He’d fucking failed and now he was going to lose you and that dream he wanted to realize with you all in one swoop. All because he really was America’s Asshole.
But when you finally spoke, you said the last thing he expected. “I spent months running from Vought’s death squads before I found you. Even with you protecting me, even after I got pregnant, I was still in danger because they wanted me dead.” Your voice broke on the last word, betraying the tears that were imminent, along with the shimmering in your eyes getting worse.
His brows drew together in concern but he gently grasped your chin, making sure that you not only continued looking at him but that you heard every word he was about to say. “But you’re safe now,” he murmured. “Vought’s gone, Edgar and Homelander are dead…I would never let anything happen to you.”
Tears began to roll down your cheeks. “I know, but I keep thinking what if something goes wrong? What if one of the supes out there finds us? What if they get wind that I’m still alive? What if the surviving board members decide that I’m still a liability?”
He shook his head, moving his thumb up to stroke your cheek reassuringly. “No one survived. I made sure of it.” He placed his forehead down onto yours. “I promised I’d keep you safe, you both safe, and I did.” Ben tenderly rubbed his nose along yours. “Still do.” 
He was slightly relieved that you weren’t thinking of leaving him but also unhappy that you had still been worrying about this all of this time and he hadn’t had a clue. He was going to do whatever it took to reassure you, to remind you that you were safe and that you no longer needed to worry about any of those pricks that you’d had to run from before. He still remembered the nightmares you’d had, the jumps and startles in the middle of the night at the slightest sound. Eventually, it prompted him to hold you when you went to bed, promising to keep you safe so you could get some sleep while he kept watch. You would finally relax in his arms and close your eyes, content to listen to his strong heartbeat underneath your ear, knowing you were indeed protected.   
Sure, you’d kept your end of the deal and let him fuck you once you’d gotten some rest from running nonstop, but instead of getting bored like he usually did after hitting the same pussy a couple of different times, he’d actually started to like you. So he’d kept you close while he turned the hunt around to make Onehander, Edgar, and all of those assholes the prey instead. When he found out you were carrying his kid, he decided he’d do whatever it took to make you both safe and even ended up teaming up with the Brit and his team again, though he still didn’t trust them. Hell, he’d even made a deal with them to settle in this area and get you this house when you’d told him you wanted a home for your child to grow safely up in, to put down roots. He’d put up with your nearby neighbors, with having to see the One-Eyed-WonderBitch again, and shifting from the Supe life to suburban life (which was not an easy transition for him by any means). He did it all for you…for you and Ellie and the family you had chosen to have with him.
So to see now that after everything, you still didn’t feel completely safe, well…that bothered him. What kind of man had he been for you to keep feeling scared that Vought might come back at any moment to haunt you? He’d never given you details of the day that he’d annihilated them all for you because he knew you didn’t want them, but maybe he should have. If he had, maybe that would’ve helped to allay your fears of any possible reprisals.   
“I know you do,” you broke into his thoughts. “But…what if something else happens? What if I get sick or get hit by a car or I have an accident and fall or I have a medical emergency that could be fatal or—”
“Hey,” he interrupted your rambling. “You’re spiraling.” Something you’d done quite a bit when you first met. His heart sunk at the thought; this had gotten to that point and he hadn’t had one goddamn clue. He’d been so wrapped up in you and Ellie and the life you were building that he hadn’t even seen it. Maybe his father had been right; he was a fuck up. An assertion by the old man that you’d unknowingly been dismantling every single day with how much you loved and believed in Ben, but now…now he felt as if he didn’t deserve you. He watched more tears spill down your cheeks and he knew he definitely didn’t; here was the proof.
“I know,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry. I just…” You took in a ragged breath and looked into his eyes, your bottom lip starting to wobble. “I need to know that if something happens to me, that you’ll take care of Ellie the way she needs to be taken care of. If I’m gone, she’s going to need you and I need to know that she’ll be okay.”
He tried his best not to be insulted, not to show it for your sake so he wouldn’t upset you anymore than you already were, but it stung his ego a bit. “Of course, she would be okay. I’ve kept her safe this long, haven’t I?”
“I’m not just talking about safety, Ben. I’m talking about you actually taking care of her. Not just providing for her, but actually being there for her whenever she needs you. Like the diaper change I asked you to do today. Is it disgusting? Sure. No one likes dealing with it, smelling shit, getting it all over you…but she’s your daughter and she needed you to take care of it for her. What if I had gone for breakfast with Elena instead? Would she have sat in her own crap until I came back home because you feel as a man that it’s beneath you to change your own daughter’s diaper?” More tears appeared. “What if something had happened to me while I was out? Would you just push Ellie onto Elena and Maggie to take care of her so you could go back to your old life? All so you wouldn’t have to do any of the messy or hard stuff? Would you abandon her just like that?”
“Of course not,” he snapped, his consideration for you now forgotten in the face of what you’d said. “How the fuck could you even think I would do something like that? Haven’t I been here through everything like I fucking said I would be?”
“Yes, but I’ve been doing everything!” The words burst out of you. “At first, you didn’t want to feed her, burp her, bathe her — any of it! And I did it all! Why? Because that was supposed to be the woman’s job you’d said!”
Ben could feel his temper flaring at you bringing that up. You were also intimating that he didn’t do anything for your daughter. Were you blind to all of the effort he had put in to help you raise Ellie since that fight you’d had a couple of weeks after she’d been born? Didn’t you realize that most mornings you woke up well rested was because he’d gotten up with the baby in the middle of the night so you wouldn’t have to? And you were still holding that shit over his head? What the fuck was wrong with you? “That was the way it was back then,” he growled out. “I told you that! And I’ve been doing all of that shit you just mentioned since then! So I didn’t change one shitty diaper today! I said I was sorry! When are you going to fucking let it go?”
Instead of responding, you exploded into more sobs and shame churned in his gut. He really fucking hated seeing either of his girls cry. It made him want to beat the ever loving shit out of some son of a bitch. Even if he happened to be said son of a bitch sometimes. 
“Christ,” he muttered. “C’mere.” He pulled you to him and you held onto him tightly, crying into his neck. His hand slid down your back in a tender caress and he pressed his lips to your hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to you.
He kept you in his arms, hoisted you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist, and let you get it all out. He even shut the water off, knowing the temperature had vastly cooled in the amount of time he’d been in there with you so far. He vaguely recalled his plan from earlier to join you, apologize for what he’d said during your argument, and begin making up with you. That obviously had gone to shit; there would be no making up happening now, that was for sure. And if anything would get his dick to go soft with you naked against him, it was the sound of you crying. 
Once your sobs quieted down and turned into ragged inhales and a few sniffles here and there, he moved your hair out of the way so he could see you. “Better?”
You nodded, sniffling as you looked up at him. “Yeah.”
“Okay, let’s get you out of this tub then and get you dried off.” He placed a kiss on your forehead and went to open the shower curtain.
“Ben?”
He froze and turned to look at you. 
You lifted your head, letting out another sniffle. “I’m sorry, too.” Before he could say anything, you continued. “I know you’ve been trying and you’ve been doing everything I asked you to with Ellie. I just…I freaked out about the diaper thing.” You wiped at your face. “Because it just brought back that worry, that fear I have of what would happen to her if I wasn’t here.” Your voice wobbled slightly but you forged ahead anyway. “You know, I wasn’t scared like this when I was being hunted down. I mean, I was, but not like this. Back then, I only had myself to worry about. And then when I got pregnant, sure, I was a little more scared but I also knew you’d keep us safe.” You took another ragged breath in. “But ever since she’s been born, I have been absolutely terrified. That something might happen to her, to me…to her if something does happen to me. I’m so fucking scared, Ben.” Your voice broke then, prompting fresh tears to roll down your cheeks.
Ben had been insulted before, almost as if you hadn’t believed in him or his ability to keep either of you safe, but now as he listened to your heartfelt explanation, he realized it wasn’t really about any of that. It didn’t really have anything to do with him, except that you wanted him to be ready to care for your daughter if something ever happened to you. That unpleasant tug inside his gut happened once more when you finally confessed just how scared you were. He thought back over the last few months since Ellie had been born. Your push for him to be more involved; your fighting with him over his antiquated mindset as you’d called it over his ideas of what fatherhood entailed; your rushing him during your sexual escapades the few times he’d managed to get you away from the house while Elena watched the baby no matter how much it pissed him off that he couldn’t take his time with you like he wanted; your insistence that he watch Ellie while you go to lunch with your friend; your anger today at his refusal to deal with the shitty diaper situation — all of it suddenly clicked into place for him and made sense. Fuck, he didn’t think it was possible for him to feel any worse. He had completely failed you on all fronts. He had been the blind one; he’d never seen what was going on with you when it was right in front of him this whole time. Christ on a cross.
He gripped your chin gently. “Look at me.” You reluctantly met his gaze, yours glistening with fresh tears, and he could see the fear there plain as day. Fuck, how had he missed it all of this time? But instead of focusing on that, he sought to reassure you. “You and Ellie are safe. Nothing is going to happen. I would never let anyone hurt you. Either of you. I love you both too fucking much.” He grazed the pad of his thumb over your cheek to catch a stray tear that had escaped at his words. “And if it’s something that’s going to make you feel better, then let’s sit down and make a plan in case anything were to happen to you. Or even if I bit it. I want both of my girls to be taken care of, even if I can’t be here to do it myself.” You gave him a tearful smile. “So, let’s do that and kick this fear in its fucking ass. Sound good, doll?”
You nodded and leaned in, kissing him and making him smile. He’d been able to make you feel better after all and he felt damn proud of himself for being able to do so. “I love you,” you whispered.
He fucking loved hearing those three words from you every single time you said them; he knew you fucking meant it. And so did he. “I love you, too, baby.” When you beamed at him, another tugging sensation happened in his chest but this time, it was a far more pleasant one. He pecked your lips and opened the curtain. “Alright, let’s get you out of here.”
Before he could take a step out of the tub, you reached up and yanked the curtain closed, making his brows furrow. Your smile suddenly transformed into a devilish smirk. Immediately, he could feel his dick hardening again. He knew what that smirk meant. “We didn’t make up yet,” you murmured, starting to rub your body against his. “And we always make up after we fight.” 
Ben felt the stiff peaks of your nipples gliding across his skin and his mouth practically watered at the thought of sucking on them while he rammed into you repeatedly. Fuck, he loved your tits. There had been a time after Ellie was born where you’d pushed his head away anytime he tried to get his mouth on them while he was fucking you, complaining that they were too sensitive due to all of the feedings. But recently, he’d been able to start that up again without causing you discomfort and once, he had even gotten a tiny amount of milk squirted into his mouth by accident. It had been surprising for him, embarrassing for you, but it had turned out to be a major turn on. He found he didn’t mind the taste and the idea of him drinking you down, you shooting something into his mouth for once and him needing to be the one to swallow, that made him hornier than he’d ever been in his life. He’d fucked a lot of women in his time, sometimes high, sometimes sober; he’d done things that made most people blush to hear about or uncomfortable to imagine, some things which you flat out refused to do. He’d founded Herogasm and had marathon fucks that were legendary. He’d hosted orgies where he would be the only one left standing, having never tired out and still raring to go when everyone else was down for the count. And yet, when you’d unintentionally squirted the smallest bit of milk into his mouth, his dick had gotten so hard, he was shocked it hadn’t exploded right there. Well…it did, but not the way he’d originally been thinking. He’d greedily swallowed you down and kept sucking, even through the first load of cum he’d shot into you in reaction to that fucking hot as hell moment. From that point on, while he knew your breastmilk was Ellie’s main food source and he loved that, his daughter had to learn to fucking share. 
That was another reason why he had such a love/hate relationship with the breast pump machine you had. When he would watch the milk fill the bottle, he didn’t know whether to cry, jerk off, fuck you, or just watch. Sometimes he even wished you’d get rid of the contraption and just let him help you; it could be a rewarding experience for you both while you made sure Ellie had plenty to eat. 
Your smirk grew, almost as if you knew where his thoughts had gone, and you ghosted your lips over his. “Ben,” you called to him in a teasing singsong voice. “I said, we always make up after fighting.”
He could feel something wet moving against his abdomen as you attempted to roll your hips, knowing it had nothing to do with your recent shower, and he ground out, “Yeah, we fucking do” before he slammed his mouth against yours in a bruising kiss that was all tongue and teeth. He turned around and carefully pushed you up against the tiled wall, making sure not to break it or you. It wasn’t long before he was inside you, his hips pushing into you at a steady pace, his mouth suckling at you and your fingers in his hair, tugging roughly, as you muffled your moans with your other hand. Neither of you had forgotten that Elena was within earshot; Ben just didn’t give a fuck. He snatched your hand away from your mouth, gruffed out a command of “Let me fucking hear you”, and he didn’t give two shits who heard the fucking hot soundtrack of your making up. Instead, as you cried out your pleasure for the world to hear, he went back to your incredible rack, focusing on filling up on you while he worked towards filling you up. The thought of any fear or resentment from your earlier argument was long gone as you both chased your highs at lightning speed. The only words said between you were dirty or full of love. And even when you both had been forced to take a mostly cold shower afterwards to clean up once you both had caught your breath, only smiles, tender touches, and kisses had been exchanged along with a few laughs, both of you completely sated. Well, you were; Ben would never get enough of you and he planned to try to fuck you again later after the baby had fallen asleep.
But as for right now, seeing the bright smile on your face as he carefully wrapped a towel around you, the weight visibly lighter on your shoulders since you confessed your fears to him, he was determined to do whatever it took to not only make you feel safe but also to keep you feeling this way and being this happy. 
When you’d laughed at something he’d said, darted forward to kiss him, and wrapped your arms around his neck, his embrace tightened around you and he kissed the juncture in between your neck and shoulder, making you that silent promise. Whatever it took to make you feel safe again, he’d do it.
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Elena glanced up to see you and Ben stepping into the living room, both dressed and looking refreshed. You had been missing in action for at least an hour and forty-five minutes. Elena already had an idea what you two had been doing considering everything she’d heard. Maggie had even heard when she called to check in and see when Elena would be returning home, beyond disgusted at the sounds Soldier Boy was making as he railed you in the shower. She’d told Elena to call her when she was done babysitting so the archaic asshole could get laid and promptly hung up. But even if Elena hadn’t heard what you’d been up to, she would have immediately known after seeing you both. Ben’s hair was still damp and yours was freshly blown out. Both of you were touching, unable to keep your hands off of each other and sporting matching grins, looking like practical newlyweds. Ben’s hand moved to the small of your back and both of you suddenly smiled wide upon seeing your daughter.
“Thank you for watching her and for waiting.” Your cheeks turned a shade of pink but you held out your arms. Elena was only too happy to hand you your baby back. “There she is,” you cooed, pressing a loud kiss to Ellie’s cheek. “Were you a good girl for your Aunt Elena?”
“She was a very good girl,” Elena confirmed, watching as Ben strode over and stopped next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him, his eyes centered on both of his girls with an affectionate smile to match. Sometimes Maggie still had trouble believing it, that Soldier Boy had been domesticated as she put it, but Elena never doubted how important you and Ellie were to him. She could see it every time he looked at you, at your little girl, and she actually thought it was beyond sweet. She had even said as much to which Maggie had rolled her eyes, muttered “Whatever, I’m going to vomit”, and walked away from the door while Elena waited to greet the three of you after she had extended a dinner invitation to your family one night. As expected Ben and Maggie didn’t get along too well, especially given their history, but the former seemed to be okay with Elena and she was okay with him because she knew how much he meant to you. And Maggie didn’t seem to mind you all that much, either. So you all somehow made the nearby neighbor thing work; for yours, Elena’s, and Ellie’s sakes if for nothing else. 
“She did get a little fussy, though, so I fed her one of the bottles you had in the fridge.”
You nodded and pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead, briefly glancing at the clock on the mantle. “It’s about that time. Thank you so much for doing that. I’m sorry that we missed lunch.” You blushed once more when Ben let out a quiet chuckle.
“No problem,” Elena dismissed with a smile and a wave of her hand. “I’m glad everything seems to be okay. Ben looked a little worried when I got here.”
You glanced up at him, your brows arching in surprise. Ben shrugged, seeming unbothered at this observation.
“We can maybe shoot for next week if you’re game,” Elena offered. 
You went to answer when Ben cut you off. “Actually, why don’t you guys still go and grab a late lunch or something? Elena’s already here and you both are dressed to the nines.”
Your eyes widened when you looked over at your husband, worry lining your expression for a moment. “No, that’s—it’s too late. By the time we’d get home, it would probably be dinner time.” You let out a nervous sounding laugh. “Besides, Ellie’s going to need to feed before then and I—”
“You pumped earlier, right? I can feed her.”
You seemed unsure, biting your lip. “I did, but I’m not sure—”
Ben released you and held out his hands, smiling reassuringly at you. “It’s settled. You go. Ellie and I have got this. Don’t we, Princess?” The baby had her fingers in her mouth, drooling everywhere. Elena saw Ben shake his head, seeming amused.
You glanced down at your daughter, the happiness from before replaced by uncertainty. Elena knew you struggled to leave Ellie the first few times she’d babysat for you both to have some time to yourselves. It wasn’t surprising; you were a new mother after all. But this time, you seemed even more reluctant than usual. 
“Hey,” Ben softly called to you, prompting you to meet his gaze. “Remember what we talked about. We’re going to be fine. I’ve got her.”
It was moments like this that convinced Elena of your importance to him. If Maggie ever witnessed them, she was sure her girlfriend would reluctantly agree. Never had Elena ever heard him speak that gently to anyone, even his own daughter. Not when she and Maggie were in earshot anyway. 
Ben gave you a meaningful look and after glancing down at Ellie one more time, you eventually handed your daughter over to her father. “There’s my girl.” He leaned down to kiss the baby’s forehead. 
You watched, anxiety still apparent in your expression.“Ben, are you su—”
He immediately darted forward to kiss you, cutting you off. Elena had the grace to look away and give you two a moment.
“We’ll be fine,” she heard Ben murmur to you. “I’ve got this. I promise, baby. Go have your girl time and then come home. We’ll be here when you get back.”
“You’re absolutely sure?” You checked one last time.
“Of course I fucking am.”
“Language,” you chided.
Elena glanced over and found Ben smirking down at you, leaning closer. “You didn’t seem to mind my language earlier.” As expected, your cheeks reddened and he barked out a laugh, kissing one of them. “Alright, go have fun and we’ll see you later.” Then he leaned in to whisper something to you that couldn’t be heard and your jaw dropped, gently swatting at his hip since he was holding Ellie in both arms. He laughed and moved away, his gaze a little darker than before as it stayed fixed on you.
You kissed Ellie’s head and stroked her cheek, smiling. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart. Be good for your daddy, okay? I love you.” Ellie gurgled and you smiled wider, leaning up to kiss Ben goodbye who immediately deepened it.
Elena was on the verge of looking away again when you pulled back, panting, and glared up at the smirking man in front of you. “You know, for someone who’s trying to get me to leave, you’re doing a miserable job.”
“Just giving you a little preview for later.” The stare between you two was so intense that it felt as if any unfortunate bystanders would suddenly burst into flames just from being too close. This time, Elena was the one nearly blushing. She would have never believed you two had just been having sex if she hadn’t heard it for herself. You both looked hungry and not for any late lunch. 
You leaned in, as if to kiss him again, when you reached up and planted a kiss on his brow instead, smirking as you backed away. “Until then, Benjamin,” you snarked, turning to leave. “Love you.” You let out a yelp a moment later when Ben swatted your ass with a free hand as you passed. 
You shot another glare at him and he simply smirked. “Love you, too, doll.” 
Elena gently pulled you towards the door, thinking if she didn’t get you out of the house soon, you definitely weren’t going to leave at all. Or more like Soldier Boy wasn’t going to let you leave. Not with the way his eyes were unashamedly glued to your ass.
You waved one last time in your family’s direction. “Bye, Ellie. See you soon, babygirl.”
Ben picked up Ellie’s little hand and simulated a wave, making you smile. 
Once Elena had you in the car and backed out of your driveway, she could see the earlier uncertainty returning. “So, what’s going on? First, Ben looked worried and now you. Something I should know about?”
You bit your lip and seemed to be mulling over whether to tell her or not. Elena gave you a moment to yourself to decide. Eventually you turned to look at her and sighed. “Okay.” You then proceeded to fill Elena in on everything you’d been feeling since your daughter had been born, everything you’d just told Ben.
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Ben watched as you and Elena got into the car and left. He knew you would be worried but he was determined not to give you any reason to be. He meant it when he told you he had this. He wanted you to know that he could look after Ellie the way she needed looking after, which is why he insisted that you still go out to eat with Elena. He was going to make damn sure he passed this test and he was keeping his promise to you, that he would make you feel safe again. And if that meant he had to play Mr. Mom and change a few shitty diapers while you were gone, then so be it. 
Once the car disappeared, he let out a sigh and turned to look down at his daughter. She was staring up at him with those beautiful eyes that reminded him so often of his mother’s, though absent of any of the heartbreak she had endured in her life with his father. That was why when you asked about possible names for your daughter after you’d given birth, he’d mentioned Eleanor to bestow upon her. You’d loved it, especially after Ben had explained the significance of the name to you, and so your daughter was named after her grandmother, though you both had ended up calling her Ellie for short most of the time. 
He gave his little girl a smile. “We’ve got the place to ourselves, kiddo. We can do whatever we want. What does my princess want to do, hmm?”
Ellie gurgled and he nodded as if he understood.
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Let your old man show you his movies so you can see when he was a star. Good thinking, babygirl.” He chuckled when she gurgled again and turned to head into the living room. 
Just then, he heard the sounds he had been hoping like hell that he wouldn’t hear until you were back. Ellie began to grunt, a few short farts sounded, and an almost undetectable thud was heard as shit landed in her diaper. Sure enough, a moment later, the smell wafted up and smacked him in the face. The smell was beyond terrible, something you had told him previously couldn’t be the case since it was known that the poop of breastfed babies didn’t smell as bad as other poop. He’d looked at you then with disbelief; how the hell did you not smell it when you were wiping the kid’s ass? Then again, thanks to his super-powered nose, you wouldn’t detect what he would. Like right now. It was fucking awful, like sour milk mixed with shit. Christ.
“Ugh.” He extended his arms and held Ellie out, away from him. He should’ve known this would fucking happen. It was just his luck. “You know, kid, for such a small thing, you sure shit a lot.” Ellie continued to make happy noises as if she hadn’t just taken a massive shit that was rapidly stinking up the room. Ben pulled her closer, his face screwed up in disgust as the smell got closer, too. “You are way too happy for someone who just shit their pants for the second time today.” 
He glanced around, almost as if you would somehow come flying around the corner to help, or Queen Lesbo might show up out of the blue or something. Nope, this was all on him. He remembered your words from earlier, how he needed to know how to care for Ellie which included shitty diaper changes, and he let out a huge defeated sigh. “Fuck.”
Ben cradled Ellie in the crook of his arm, relieved there were no damp spots on her back this time, and turned to make his way to her nursery. “You know something, kid, if the day should ever come that I’m in diapers, you better fucking change ‘em without any complaints. I don’t want to hear a damn word out of you then, got it?”
Ellie made more happy noises and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” A small smile slipped onto his face and he lifted her up to his shoulder, kissing her cheek. “You’re lucky Daddy loves you, Princess.”
Almost as if she’d understood his words, she gave him a wide toothless smile, drooling onto his shirt. Instead of being disgusted, he chuckled and continued his trek. She’d unknowingly just given him a perfect excuse to change when you got home and entice you to get another shower in later. Thinking along that same line, feeling proud that this was now something he could do for you and for his daughter, something that would help you to feel better overall…well, he found now that he didn’t mind the idea of any shitty diaper changes all that much.
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trivia-yandere · 11 months
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Study Partner
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An alternate world in which the elites rule the world and have everything at their fingertips. At a top elite college, “Study Partners” - the most desirable sexual partners around the world - are assigned to the top 10% of students with the highest grades.
word count: 2.820
warning: smut, reader is naked majority of the time, porn with little plot, facial, oral sex, saliva, voyeurism, public indecency, masturbation, creampie, anal, double penetration, drooling, cum swallowing, handjobs, overstimulation
@seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @babycandy111
@srslythis-ismylife @darkuni63 @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree
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Alternate Universe
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"Congratulations students." says the dean, hands clapping together. He was a short and fat man with round glasses on his face. "On being in the top 10% of students with the highest grades."
Jungkook held his head in his hands and released a sigh. His eyes boredly watched his death on the flat screen television in the classroom he sat. On a Saturday of all days.
"You'd think we'd get a medal or something." Jimin scoffs. "Instead of being forced inside of a classroom on the weekend."
The top 10% of students were only 1,000 out of the 10,000 attending the private university. It was a University their parents attended and even their grandparents, fully funded by the elite last names that attended throughout decades. While the school remained vacant with the rest of the students attending, only the 1,000 students were permitted on University grounds. Guards lined up outside the gates and ID'd each student as they entered and were instructed to show where they would be for the day.
"Why'd they separate us?" asks Taehyung, seated with his leg on another desk. "Having 5 in a room seems like such a hassle."
Hoseok hums in agreement.
"You all must be confused as to why you're here on a free day, but you'll be confused no longer. We have separated you to the correct rooms where each of you will be awarded for your grades." the dean smiles, a sinister wide smile. 
Hoseok's eyes the windows to the right of the room, showing the hallway of the University. It soon litters with women and men all around the same ages - and all naked.
The television turns black and the door that held the five men - Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook - swings open. A guard strolls in and behind him, a woman - you. You're naked like the rest, nipples perky and erect as you bounced inside cheerfully. 
"Studying starts now. Lunch will be in the next two hours." the guard says, and like clockwork, the television displays a countdown. 
The guard closes the door and you smile at the faces of the five men inside, all confused and bewildered.
"Hello." you wave to them, but neither of them respond. "I'm sure you're all wondering what's going on."
"Yes, we are." Jungkook murmurs, but his eyes glue themselves to your exposed clit. It feels dirty to stare at you, especially in front of his hyungs.
"I'm Y/N. I'm a study partner." you began to speak, making your way closer to them. "You as the top 10% of students are being rewarded for keeping your grades high."
"With...?" Jimin questions. But he's sure he knows the answer. 
"Sex." you answer coolly. "You can do anything you want with me, of course." you smile cutely and Jimin reddens. "All at once or one at a time."
Taehyung shakes his head and snickers. "This is crazy." but he feels his cock twitch with excitement. 
"It is." you agree. "But it's a reward for working so hard. So today, you'll use me for whatever desires you have."
You're already naked, so it doesn't take long for you to stroll to the closest person - Park Jimin. You lift your leg to place your knee upon his desk, pussy - glistening and wet - flashing him. 
Jimin gulps visibly, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes don't glance away from you to know that they're eight eyes upon him and you. 
You grasp Jimin's hand and place it upon your naked breast. These men weren't going to take the first move, and you didn't blame them. It was a tradition spawning decades that study partners will be gifted to elite students with the highest grades. The tradition itself is left a secret until the time comes, former alumni vowing to not reveal it. You would never forget the look on the faces of those prior to the five men - bewildered but willing.
"Let me take care of you, Jimin-ssi." you murmur.
Jungkook feels his pants grow tighter at the sight of you and Jimin, eyes wide and body frozen in shock. You place your lips upon Jimin, hand encouraging him to fondle your breast - and when Jimin does your throat allows you to moan in satisfaction.
Taehyung doesn't recall how long you and Jimin kiss, it's all a blur to him. What he does know is that he blinks and you're upon your knees, ass high into the air and your lips are around Jimin's cock. You waste no time gagging upon it, reaching it deep into your throat like a pro.
Jimin's moaning, eyes snapping shut. Your mouth was amazing and your throat proved to be even better.
"You're so hard, Jimin-ssi." you swipe your tongue against the tip of his cock teasingly. "Is what I'm doing making you this hard?"
Jimin nods hastily. He was breathing heavily and sweating. He feels you take him in your mouth once more, this time slobbering messily upon his cock, even taking it out and slapping yourself with it a few times the way you knew he liked it - never revealing to any of them how you know their kinks.
Hoseok doesn't stop himself from reaching into his sweats. He was but a man, and watching you pleasure Jimin to the point the man is twitching in his seat is hot. He wraps a hand around his cock and pumps, eyes on your pussy clenching on nothing - oh how he wished it was his cock you were clenching around.
"If you keep sucking like that I'm gonna cum." Jimin hisses, groaning at the way your mouth suctions around his cock.
Jimin is coming undone and you do nothing but suck harder. You wrap a hand around the base of his cock and pump him while you suck and soon Jimin is twitching harder in his seat.
Jimin peaks his eyes open as he's cumming to witness your smiling face, cum dripping out of his cock and right onto your lips. You were enjoying this - you had to be. Initially, he assumed you were doing this for the money - and with working for a private elite school, the money was amazing. But you truly enjoyed pleasuring him - and for that he found it more worthwhile. The cum drips down your chin and onto your chest.
Jimin falls limp into his seat while you lick the remaining cum from your lips. 
Namjoon is the first to react. He - like Hoseok - was but a man and already had his cock out and ready. He quickly grasps you from your position and hoists you up. You yelp, but turn to face the tall man. 
"You're so cute when you're horny." you murmur to Namjoon, and before he can react to your words you push him besides Jimin in an empty seat. You sit upon him, both legs on either side of him. Your clit is dripping with excitement when you rub it against his cock, and Namjoon swallows as you do so. "You know, I have been assigned to you all since you started."
Namjoon's ears perk, as do the other four men.
"They allowed me to study each of you. They showed me pictures and I just knew I couldn't wait to have you." you continue to grind against Namjoon while his hands dig into the skin of your hips. "I prepared myself for this moment and I won't stop until I've satisfied each of you."
You pushed yourself onto Namjoon's tip, entering it inside of you.
Namjoon grunts, eyes glued to your bouncing breast as you adjusted to his size. Your pussy was hot and wet and his cock felt as if it was going to melt - and could he truly be angered if it did?
You embrace Namjoon, both arms tugging him closer to you. Your breast suffocates him as you bounce atop of him, but he doesn't care. He cannot bring himself to. All he does care about is the way your pussy is making him feel - as if he could cum any moment now and wouldn't be ashamed by how quick it was.
Hoseok was the next to follow. His cock felt ready to explode at the sight of you and Namjoon and waiting for his turn was not an option. He tugs you off of Namjoon, but the only one upset about it is the man and not you. You instead giggle at his action.
Hoseok pushes you upon a glaring Namjoon and enters you, wasting no time to crack his hips inside of you at a brutal pace. Your hands clench Namjoon's shoulders for support. Your moans filled the room along with Hoseok's brutal thrusts. Your pussy is dripping slick down your thighs, but you do nothing but beg for more and more - needing to be filled by the man. 
Your breasts clap against one another loudly when Hoseok yanks you by your neck closer to him. Namjoon takes this opportunity to take a nipple into his mouth and suck, left hand cupping your wet clit. He rubs circles on your clit and you're coming undone right before their eyes - and the eyes of Taehyung and Jungkook. 
"I'm gonna cum!" You wail, legs shaking in great pleasure. Hoseok's cock was so big and he knew just how to fuck you - deep and hard just how you loved it. Namjoon's fingers playing with your clit as he sucked and bite at your breast was the icing on top, and just as Hoseok shoots his cum into you, you're squirting against Namjoon's hand, a long cry of satisfaction leaving your lips.
"It's my turn!" Jungkook hisses, cock out and ready to pounce, but Namjoon shakes his head.
"Hobi took my turn." Namjoon retorts.
"You let him." Jungkook rolls his eyes and he's already grabbing you by your arm when Namjoon tugs you closer to him.
"I can take the both of you." you moan. Your pussy throbs for more, even after Hoseok's powerful rampage. 
"H-Huh?" Jungkook flushes at your statement. He swallows thickly, eyes already dark with lust. His mind is blurred enough at the fact that this wasn’t a wet dream. No, you were actually here taking everyone so well.
Namjoon is already seated, so it isn't hard to turn towards Jungkook and bring him closer to you. You turn back around and sit upon Namjoon, directing his cock closer to your pussy. He gulps when you center it at your hole and begin to thrust inside.
"Now you both can have a turn." you murmur, the pressure of having Namjoon inside of you causes you to take a deep breath, but it doesn't last long. Jungkook is already behind you and centering his own cock at your hole.
Jungkook has never done this before and it feels amazing to enter you. He coughs a couple groans when he does so - so tight and warm, inviting. Your back arches to take more of him, and it was the invitation needed for Jungkook to thrust.
As you feel Jungkook fuck your ass, Namjoon begins to thrust inside of your pussy. You never felt so satisfied and full at once - and the sensation was amazing. Your breasts are directly against Namjoon’s chest, fingers clenching his shoulders. 
The situation right now feels surreal for Jungkook - and so filthy. The sane part of him wants himself to slow down - that you were still a woman and is deemed fragile. But you’re the one moaning so loud for them - telling him and Namjoon how much you truly wanted it.
And who was Jungkook but a man to give you what you were begging for?
“She’s so tight.” Jungkook grunts, hands firmly placed upon your hips, his own hips snapping directly inside of you. 
“Please fuck me as hard as you’d like.” you slurr, your insides churning with such pleasure. You don’t notice Taehyung come before you until your hair is being yanked, and even then you cannot bring yourself to care.
The position had to be uncomfortable to you, but Taehyung doesn’t care. After all, you stated that you wanted all of them, and that’s what he was going to give you until it was his turn to fuck you. 
Taehyung places his cock against your willing tongue, groaning at the wet sensation. He slaps your cheek and you do as you were silently told. You begin to suck upon Taehyung’s cock, throat vibrating with Namjoon’s and Jungkook’s thrusts.
“She’s so filthy.” Taehyung chuckles, a hand firmly in your hair. “The perfect whore with all of her holes stuffed.”
You groan a response.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jungkook snaps his hips even harder, his eyes clenching shut. He couldn’t look at you anymore, not while you appeared so filthy. He focuses on cumming, your tight walls clenching around him each time.
Jungkook removes himself from inside of you, hand wrapped around his cock. He grabs you from Taehyung - much to the mans annoyance - and cum directly onto your mouth. You open your mouth even wider to swallow every last droplet.
“Oh, shit.” Namjoon was next, but he didn't remove himself. He cums deep inside of you, thrusts sloppy and his eyes on the sight of you swallowing Jungkook’s cum.
“My turn.” Taehyung sing-songs, all too excited. He grabs you from Namjoon and roughly presses you against a nearby desk, chest slamming against it. He spreads your legs apart and doesn’t waste any time in entering you. “You’re still tight as if you weren’t fucked by so many cocks already.”
Taehyung’s speed is degrading, he cares solely about his own please - but you aren’t upset. You’ve came so many times now that if you didn’t this time, you wouldn’t be angry. 
You slam against the cold desk with each thrust from Taehyung. Your pussy clenches, slick dripping down your thighs.
“Please cum inside of me!” you wail, overstimulation getting to you. You feel fresh tears swell in your eyes.
Taehyung slams a hand over your mouth, thrusts never stopping. He’s so deep that you swear you can feel him in your stomach, something that shouldn’t be possible.
“I’ll give you what you want.” Taehyung laughs, eyes zoning in on the way your ass bounces against his cock. He was never meant to last long - not with how wet, willing and tight you were. A few more sloppy thrusts and he’s cumming inside of you, so much that it begins to drip out before he could remove himself.
Jimin stands once more. “We don’t have much time left. I want to cum in her next.” 
The time has went by rapidly, and the timer shown that there was only 30 minutes left until lunch,
“I’m sure we can all cum just one more time.” Hoseok’s already hard again, dark eyes filled with lust. 
Jimin flips you onto your back. Your legs open automatically for him, but you’re far too exhausted to do anything. 
“I can take two in my mouth.” you slur, already opening your mouth to invite any two inside.
Jimin growls. He grasps his cock and enters you just as you allow Namjoon and Hoseok inside your mouth. In each hand, Jungkook and Taehyung are being pumped.
Jimin focuses on your bouncing breast, then to the way your mouth was being fucked by his hyungs. You were truly a sight to behold - a woman willing to do anything to please them. He places a thumb upon your clit and rubs roughly while he fucks inside of you.
“She likes that, hyung.” Jungkook groans, his cock being pumped so tightly in your soft hands. 
Jimin knows, he can feel you clench him even tighter. How your pussy isn’t stretched out by the amount of cocks you had inside of you, he’d never know.
There’s saliva seeping out of your mouth, but you cannot bring yourself to care. You’ve come twice already with Jimin inside of you. You were far from exhausted, allowing Taehyung and Jungkook to jack themselves with your hands and for Namjoon and Hoseok to use your mouth as they wanted. 
Your eyes remained open, but you couldn’t focus on anything - your vision was blurry due to the tears and even not, you were currently seeing stars due to the overstimulation.
Jimin cums deep inside of you with a final thrust, slapping your clit harshly. Namjoon was next, the first to remove himself from your lips to coat your cheeks with his warm seed. Jungkook and Taehyung follow suit, both coating each of your breasts and finally Hoseok, deep inside of your throat.
You cough when you finally feel oxygen run through your lungs - the alarm blaring in the room. It was now lunchtime, you note, and you heard shuffling just outside the classroom walls. 
Anticipation runs through you knowing that there was still the whole day ahead of you with the five men after lunch was over.
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