#annablack1102jdmchallenge

[blackleatherjacketz]

Snake Charmer

Negan (The Walking Dead) x Jake Peralta (Brooklyn 99)

Summary: Jake questions Negan about the death of a young pizza delivery boy and bites off more than he can chew.

Word Count: 1463

Notes: This is for @annablack1102 and her “Teeny Tiny Writing Challenge” My prompt was Crime AU, so I brought him into my favorite Crime show with my favorite bisexual male detective.

Warnings: MLM Flirting, Mentions of Glenn’s Death, Negan’s Mouth, Captain Holt, Sexual Tension, Manic Jake, My take on Negan’s Real Name

Tags: @genevievedarcygranger @letsby @negans-network @collette04 @mblaqgi

Captain Holt folded his arms across his chest, his tired lungs slowly releasing an exasperated sigh. “This is Nicholas Egan; owner of the night club on 4th Street known as ‘Honey Bunz’.” He looked over at Jake before bringing his gaze back to the handsome man in the interrogation room. “Boyle and Jeffords took him in for questioning after they found the mutilated body of a young pizza delivery boy in the dumpster of his establishment early this morning.”

“So why isn’t Charles on the case?” Jake asked, pointing to the man through the double-sided mirror.

“Detective Boyle said that the man was ‘scary, and reminded him of his mother’.” Holt uncrossed his arms. “I sent Sergeant Jeffords in there to pick up the pieces, but Egan kept complimenting him on his impeccable physique, and didn’t actually answer any of his questions.” He paused and looked at Jake. “The man is a charmer, Peralta, he hasn’t even had to ask for a lawyer yet because had Jeffords practically blushing, the snake.” Holt spat out.

“His physique IS impeccable, though,” Jake whispered, staring off into the corner while he thought about Terry’s arms. “Have you seen him in the battle gear of Return to Skyfire?!”

“Peralta,” he pointed to the man in the hot seat. “A young man was brutally beaten and then tossed in the trash like he was nothing!” Captain Holt’s voice rarely faltered, his emotions coming through only once in a blue moon.

“Right right right right, there’s a horrible monster of a man out there beating people to death, and you think it might be him? Good. Got it!” He bit his lower lip and nodded, taking the case file from his superior officer. “Time to charm the snake!” ——————-

“So, Mr. Egan,” Jake waltzed into the interrogation room with a spring in his step, hoping to throw the man off guard.

“Call me Negan,” he smiled, turning in his chair to face him.

“Oh! Okay,” Jake glanced at his file then back at the suspect, raising his eyebrows. “Negan.”

He could suddenly tell why Terry was charmed out of the interrogation room and why Charles was too scared to even attempt to approach the table. Negan’s hair was dark, complemented by perfectly tanned skin and glowing amber eyes, his smile electric. Jake was pretty sure it was just a tactic, but he felt himself wanting to get closer, even if that meant getting electrocuted. He was big, from only his seated position Jake could tell that he would tower over him if they were on a level playing field. His tall stature wasn’t the only grandiose feature on this man, though. Something about him, the way he looked, they way he spoke, the way he was simply projected an enormity of presence Jake couldn’t quite explain.

Get it together, Jake! You’re a detective, he’s a suspect! He probably killed this poor pizza guy! He thought to himself, sitting on the chair backward. He remembered that Charles had told him something about reversing bad Juju by putting your sock on inside out or sitting on a chair backwards.

“Well then you can call me JPeralta… JP… Jay…” he tried to think of something comparable before deciding to wave it off. “You know what? Nevermind, you can just call me Detective Peralta. You’re a suspect, you know this.” He scooted himself closer to the table, opening the file in front of him to display the grotesque photographs of the crime scene.

“Oh my God!” Jake shouted, closing it and wishing he would have seen the photographs when he was in the other room.

“Shit, you okay?” Negan leaned forward, folding his hands together as a smirk crept over his lips. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Jake paused as he kept his hand on the worn and overused folder, noticing the glee this man took in his fear and surprise. He smiled and didn’t even pretend to be shocked or sorry that something like this happened on his property. He didn’t seem to be sorry that something like this had happened at all.

“What can you tell me about Glenn Rhee?” Jake regained his composure, sitting up in his chair and clearing his throat.

“Who?” He licked his lips and smiled, a row of perfectly white teeth electrifying the air around him amidst the dark walls of the interrogation room.

“Glenn Rhee: 27 years old, loving husband and soon to be father was found beaten to death in the dumpster behind your establishment. That… sound familiar? Ring any bells?” His eyes widened as he looked for more reactions from him. The husband and father angle usually warranted at least a fake frown from most people, but not this guy; this guy was either really dumb or really smart.

“Sweetheart, I honestly can’t say I know who you’re talking about.” He smiled and rubbed the salt and pepper stubble on his chin before chuckling under his breath, a tell-tale sign of deceit.

“Sweetheart?! Eyes up here, Daddy... erm... buddy!” Jake pointed to his eyes. “Look, you’re a smart man, you know that a dead body on your property isn’t good for business. I just want to help clear everything up so you can get back to business as usual.”

“You like my line of business, Peralta?” He leaned into him, dark eyes covering him in a blanket of warmth as he touched his hand. “All the ass and tits you want, whenever you want, wherever you want it.” He licked his lips again, making Jake wonder what those lips might taste like.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Jake felt a rush of warmth pulse between his legs, causing a familiar strain on his pants he only felt when Amy spoke Spanish in the bedroom. Wait a minute, what was happening?

“Not just my mother, and not only on the mouth.” His fingertips teased their way up Jake’s knuckles, sending another exciting rush up his arm and into his spine. “How about you?”

“Listen, I resent the derogatory way you’re speaking about your mother and women in general, but you’re kind of sending me mixed signals, and I’m not really sure how to handle it, so I’m just going to keep going with my questions, mmkay? Mmmkay!”

Jake pulled his hand away and started writing on the folder in front of him, stopping only as Negan took the pen from between his fingers and grabbed his hand. He smiled that snakelike smile Holt had warned him about and kept his eyes on him, holding him hostage as he massaged his palm before writing a set of characters on it.

“What kind of signals are those, darlin’?” He asked, letting go of Jake’s hand and clicking the pen shut.

“Darlin’?” Jake laughed and felt a bead of sweat drip down his forehead. The intoxicating smell of his cologne drowned out any linear thought process he might have had a second ago. “I bet you call all the girls that… I mean, do you know of anyone who might have enemies… or… that are bad at…doing things…?” Jake shook his head and stared at the man’s handsome features, his prominent jawline only accented by his well-groomed beard and thick lustrous lips. “Are you wearing Drakkar Noir, by chance?”

“Peralta!” A very angry Captain Holt opened the door. ————————— “Drakkar Noir?” Captain Holt’s eyebrows were high on his forehead.

“Awe, come on, Captain, I almost had him!” Jake defended, pointing back at him.

“You got less accomplished than Sergeant Jeffords! He at least talked about physical fitness and found out where the suspect goes to the gym! All you managed to do was bat your eyelashes like some hussy on the school yard.” He pointed an angry finger at him.

“Hussy?” Jake gasped, grabbing his chest with his palm. Sure, the man was distracting, and sure, it was hard to concentrate or do anything in his presence, but Jake wasn’t acting like a hussy when he walked in the door… was he?

“Show me your hand, Peralta,” Holt held out his own for Jake to put his in.

“My what?” He gripped his flannel shirt tighter in defense.

“Your hand, Peralta, what did he write on it?” He beckoned for him with his fingers.

Jake was so nervous when Holt burst into the interrogation room that he had forgotten to check what Negan wrote on it. Maybe it was a clue, maybe it was a smiley face, maybe it was the blueprints of his building, or an admission of guilt. He let go of his flannel shirt and lifted his palm up to his face, glancing at it briefly before defeatedly placing it in his captain’s hand.

“Well?” Holt asked.

“It’s his phone number.”

[thedeadwalks]

The King’s Queen

Summary: (Written for @annablack1102 's challenge!)​ The vicious leader of the Sanctuary finds reader’s group. Things don’t go as expected...

Pairing: Vampire!Negan x reader

Warnings: none really, some of the usual Negan x Lucille violence

Word Count: 1,921

A/N: I had this big smutty ending planned for this, but due to college deadlines I haven’t had time to do it. ;’( So the good news is that when college calms down a bit I’ll probably be giving that a go!

Your shaking fingers clutched at the denim on your thighs. Your knees were digging uncomfortably into the dirt but you just about noticed because of how scared you were in that moment. Your eyes squeezed shut at the sound of the wooden bat connecting with hard bone; the sound of the third victim from your group meeting their gruesome end.

He started laughing then, a deep rough laugh that filled the small clearing you were in. Forcing your eyes open you saw him leaning backwards, almost uncomfortably, before he waved the wooden bat up into the air by his side.

"...And she, she is a vampire bat!”

You only caught the last words of his outburst, but even that was enough to make a shudder run through you. He was teasing you now, having some fun with his prey. You were the last person in your group left alive at this point, and you weren’t sure exactly how much longer that would remain true.

You were brought out of your thoughts almost instantly when you heard the sound of his boots making their way over to you, the clinking of the buckles getting louder with each step he took. Then he was in front of you. You kept your head faced down to the floor, your eyes frantically scanning the scuffed and dirty black boots in front of you. Everything froze for what felt like hours, then suddenly he was crouched in front of you, far too close for comfort.

A shiver ran through you as you felt a leather-covered hand grip your chin, pulling your face up to meet his. Your breath caught in your throat immediately as you saw the face of your captor properly for the first time. He was grinning, a predatory, selfish grin that made his skin crinkle around his deep black eyes. His chin was covered in greying stubble, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his grin – perfect pearly white teeth, with two sharp, long fangs either side. Your mouth hung open in shock as you stared, thoughts whirling around your head. You had heard the rumours, from others you had passed and met out on the roads, everyone in this part of town had heard them. The rumours of the Saviors, of the large community they called the Sanctuary, and more worryingly, of their vicious and ruthless leader. You had previously dismissed the rumours that he was some sort of monster, a creature of the night, just like the legend of Dracula himself, but now, just inches away from his shiny white fangs, you couldn’t deny them any longer.

“What’s your name, kitten?”, he drawled out to you. His voice was still as deep as it was earlier, but calmer now as he spoke to you. His fingers left your chin to run through the hair on his jaw, and he let out a deep sigh as you struggled to reply to his question.

“Sorry about your friends doll, you know… how I…”, he brought the bat between you both, banging it into the dirt a few times to get his point across before he continued, chuckling darkly to himself as he did so, ‘I promise my people safety. They work for me, and I keep them safe, and those sorry fucks pissed me off.” His eyes were searching your face, waiting for any kind of reaction from you. His gloved hand came up again, this time smoothing over your neck, brushing your hair behind you. You saw how his tongue swept over one of his fangs hungrily as he inspected the clear skin of your neck. A shiver ran through you as you watched him, wondering if this was your end too, if this is how you’re supposed to die, at the hands of the fearless vampire in front of you.

He grinned then, aware of how uneasy you were. His tongue swept over his fangs, before he continued, the cocky edge back in his voice.

“But you,” he drawled out, “you are something else. A fucking beautiful little thing, and I, well I think it’s ‘bout time I found a mate.” His grin grew impossibly bigger then, the power and authority radiating off him. “…and I think you just might be the one.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move as his words swam around your mind. Moments later he stood, leaning back onto his heels dramatically, digging the end of the still-dripping bat into the ground to steady himself. Everything was starting to blur as panic washed over you, before you felt an arm grip your elbow, hoisting you up to your feet. He kept his grip on you, pulling you in closer to him, steadying you against his front as he barked orders at the men surrounding you both. You just about understood what was happening, the rush of men coming from every direction, some picking up the remains of what had been your friends, before he started walking you towards one of the trucks. Rounding the side of a dirty, grey truck, he opened the door, pushing you lightly to get in. You knew you had no choice, so you pulled yourself up and into the passengers seat, feeling his gaze on your ass as you did so.

“Oh you are going to be perfect, fuck yeah you are”

 ----------

 You pulled uncomfortably at the hemline on the white dress you were currently wearing. It had been a few hours since you had first arrived here – at the Sanctuary. It was much bigger than you had heard from the rumours, tons more people than you had thought there would be, and given by the way everyone had kneeled automatically when he had walked you in, you knew he had this whole place under his strictest control. You looked out of the window next to you, the sky now turning a lush navy, and you sighed, knowing that one of his people would be knocking any minute now.

8 o’clock sugar, I’ll have someone bring you up. That’s the last thing he said to you before he left, leaving you in the small bedroom holding the dress he had given you. You had reluctantly put it on, not wanting to know what the consequences would be otherwise.

A harsh knocking brought you out of your thoughts, and just a mere second later the door was opening, a young man stepping into your view.

“He’s ready for you now Miss”, was all he said. He looked nervous, worried almost, and you nodded, thankful that he wasn’t trying to make conversation, before following him up the metal stairs to what you assumed to be Negan’s room. The man knocked the door, before taking a step back, his hands gripping onto the strap of the gun hanging from his shoulder.

“Bring her in”, was all you heard from inside, the deep drawl of a voice that was unmistakably his. The man next to you opened the door, wordlessly gesturing for you to enter.

Your mouth hung open slightly in shock as you walked in, the room unlike anything you had seen since the dead had started to walk the Earth. The giant plush bed, the sparkling chandeliers, the floor-to-ceiling window, it looked like something out of a magazine and you couldn’t help but look. Reality came flooding back to you however when your eyes met those of your captor. He was sat behind a dark mahogany desk, his feet resting barefoot on top, the biggest grin you had ever seen sat smugly on his face as he watched you.

“You like what you see princess? Cause I sure as fuck do.”

Your eyebrows knitted together in both disgust and confusion, and before you could ask what he wanted he spoke.

“Come take a seat,” he drawled out, before swinging his legs down, and patting his thigh. You hesitated, thought for sure he was joking, and then gave up when he repeated the action. Walking slowly over to the desk, you manoeuvred yourself onto his lap, uncomfortably fiddling with your hands as you did so. Your eyes were trained onto your hands, not daring for one second to look at him, and yet you could tell he was still grinning, thoroughly enjoying himself.

You were both quiet for a few minutes, before he moved his hand up, brushing the hair off your neck softly, leaving a featherlight touch behind. His other hand moved to meet your hip, stopping just above the hemline of your dress. You shivered at the contact, causing a light chuckle to escape him - even through the material of your dress you could feel how cold his skin was, making goosebumps now appear over your own. You swallowed then, having finally built up the courage to speak.

“Why did you bring me here?” You asked, keeping your gaze on your hands. He was silent for a moment, before you felt an icy finger under your chin, pulling your up to face his.

“Because,” he started, followed by a deep sigh. “Because I’ve been running this place since the world went to shit, and I need someone around, someone to help… someone like you.”

You were about to protest, to question his motives, when continued.

“I saw you out there earlier darlin’, I beat the shit out of your fucking friends and you didn’t blink an eye. Hell if I knew any better I’d say you watched the whole thing, probably fucking enjoyed it too.” His hands came around you then, meeting on your hip and pulling you in closer to him, “and I’ve been looking for someone, someone who can help rule this place, someone with some guts ya know?” A shiver ran through you as you felt the tip of his nose graze over the skin of your neck. “I mean looking like a damn angel is just a big fat bonus”

“You want me to rule this place? Like be in charge? But I- I don’t know how, I don’t even know you or-“

He laughed at that, a deep hearty chuckle that had you thinking obscene thoughts for just a second. You looked at him, his tanned skin making the long, pointed white fangs stand out even more as he laughed.

“Oh darlin’, I’m sure we can work something out”, the back of his fingers ran over your bare neck as he spoke, making a shiver run through you at the thought of what was about to happen next.

 ----------

 A smile graced your lips as you took in the man next to you. His usual cockiness, his over-confident swagger gone as he slept. You took a moment to take in the details, each and every small scar that covered his torso, the dark trail of hair that led down his stomach, disappearing under the blankets. You jumped slightly as another bolt of lightning lit up the lavish room, the rain hammering against the large windows. Your hand reached up to your bare neck, subconsciously feeling over the now-healed scars there, and you sighed, happy that you were here, warm and safe, laying comfortably next to your husband. You were content here, the first you had really felt at home since the dead started walking, and you smiled again, moving yourself closer to Negan, curling yourself into his side. He was the ruler of the Sanctuary, the King of the apocalypse, and now you were his queen.

[cleighwrites]

Till Sex Do We Part

SPN Fanfic

Characters - John Winchester x Reader, Dean and Sam (minor)

Summary - A strange case finds you working with the infamous Winchesters to save newlyweds from cashing in too soon on their vow of “till death do we part.”

Word Count - 2,971

A/N - This was written for @annablack1102​‘s Teeny Tiny Writing Challenge; my prompt was Accidental Marriage, and the character I chose was John Winchester. This fic fills my Sex Pollen square on my @spnkinkbingo card. Beta assist by that awesomesauce @deanwinchesterswitch, thanks again!

Warnings - Smack (emphasis on the crack part... it’s trash), sex pollen and the weird actions that go with that, pseudo dub-con because of the sex pollen, fingering, jerking off, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb, wrap it up!), John Winchester being a sexy ass bitch, that voice alone...  

You couldn’t believe the situation you found yourself in. Not only were you on a hunt with the infamous John Winchester, but the thing you were hunting seemed to be going after newlyweds. Six couples in the last month had been found dead the day after getting married; with various causes of death, ranging from dehydration to heart attacks. The only problem was that someone was going to have to get married to set the trap.

You were the only female on the case, which meant that you were going to have to at least pretend to get married. Dean was more than eager to volunteer his services, and having just turned twenty, he was technically old enough. John was quick to shut Dean’s offer down, citing that he didn’t want his eldest son to play the bait in case things went sideways. You were slightly relieved, given that you were twelve years older than the young hunter. Granted John was more than ten years your senior, but the age difference wasn’t as noticeable between the two of you.

So that was how you found yourselves at the courthouse filing for a marriage license with your aliases, since this was just a cover. Whatever it was that was after newlyweds didn’t seem to care how they got married, just that they had. So instead of trying to put together an actual ceremony, it was quicker, and more cost efficient, to go to the Justice of the Peace and get it over with. In the county that you all found yourselves in, the Justice happened to be located in the county jail. Why that seemed like a good idea for them, you could only guess.

After you got your marriage license you made your way back to the motel to get changed. It was very important, since you had no idea who or what you were looking for, that you looked as believable as possible going into this. You had found a simple white cotton dress at a local shop which hugged your form perfectly. It was flattering, yet comfortable and functional, easily concealing your holsters for your gun and bowie knife. You did your hair and makeup simply, yet still looked like you put a little effort into it. Once you deemed yourself ready, you made your way to the boys’ room.

Sam opened the door and immediately dropped his gaze to take in your full look. His cheeks flushed pink and he quickly looked away as he held the door open to invite you in. Dean was sitting at the small table and also did a double take at the sight of you in a dress. It was the most leg you had shown in years, and it helped to boost your confidence that you could still pull off looking like a girl.

Dean cleared his throat then whistled. “Looking good, Y/N. Dad’s finishing up in the bathroom, now.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

“Doesn’t she look good, Sammy?” Dean teased his little brother.

You turned to face Sam, letting your dress bell out as you moved, and smiled at him.

Sam nodded and squeaked out a shy, “Sure does.”

You laughed, smiled wider, and thanked him. Dean laughed at Sam’s awkwardness and still changing voice. You felt a little bad for Sam, he wasn’t quite sixteen yet, and his body was still going through the more challenging stages of development. Constantly being around such men as John and Dean couldn’t have made his situation any easier.

Just then the bathroom door opened, and you had to control your eyes so that they wouldn’t bug out of your head. “Dean, what have I told you about teasing your brother?” His voice was equal parts gravel and molasses, and did things to you that you swore to take to the grave. He was clean shaven, with his hair combed back, and was dressed simply in a nice pair of dark slacks and a white button up shirt; he was devastatingly handsome.

“Sorry, sir,” Dean apologized.

“Well sweetheart, look at you.” John took in the look at you in much the same way as his sons had; only his gaze seemed to light you on fire as it moved down your body.

You tried to laugh off the compliment and made a half-assed, joking attempt to pull out the bottom of your dress and curtsy. John, imitating your formality, pulled himself to his full height, tucked his arms in at his waist as he walked over to you, and offered you his elbow. “Shall we?”

You prayed that your cheeks weren’t noticeably burning as you accepted his arm and headed to the car. Quick words of warning were given to Sam, who was staying behind, to properly seal off the room and get his homework done. Dean hopped in the backseat, you in the front passenger, and John into the driver seat of the sturdy old Impala. You all went over the plan again on the way out to the jailhouse.

It was easier than it should have been to pretend to be an excited bride with John touching you and looking at you the way he was. You never pictured that you would make a blushing bride, but there you were, standing in front of the Justice, cheeks aflame, with John’s hands holding yours, his eyes boring straight into your soul. You were honest to God shaking as you exchanged the simple, silver, thrift store bands you had found, and your heart leapt into your throat when John leaned down to seal your fake new bond with a kiss.

His lips were soft on yours, and his kiss was firm. You gasped at the overwhelming sensation, and he took the chance to slide his tongue over your bottom lip. You leaned into him, trying to deepen the kiss and John smiled against your mouth, leaning away. “Let’s save some for later, Princess.” He winked at you, and you almost swooned on the spot.

The Justice smiled at you knowingly, and slid the paper across the table for you and John to sign. There was some yelling out in the corridor, the sounds of a fight starting up, and Dean stuck his head out the door to check on it. He shook his head and came back over to the desk. Without putting too much thought into it, since you were having to focus on breathing, you signed your name on the line the Justice indicated, and played with your ring, as John signed his, the fight still going on outside the little room.

All the paperwork was split between you after everyone had signed, Dean and another clerk acting as your witnesses, and you were officially fake married to John McAllister. When everyone was loaded into the car, you now sitting in the middle of the front bench seat, John’s hand on your thigh and your head on his shoulder, you made your way back to the motel.

Once there, John threw the key to his room to Dean, and walked down the corridor to your room. Once you managed to get the key in the slot and unlock the door, John surprised you by lifting you into his arms to carry you into the room, then heeling the door closed behind you. The lights were still off, and you landed unsteadily on your feet when John sat you down. Luckily his arms were still strong around you and you were able to regain your balance.

“Easy there, Princess.” You could feel the rumble of his words as they radiated from his body into yours. “You good?”

Unable to trust your voice you nodded, and pulled yourself away from him. His hands lingered on your arms before slipping free, leaving behind a warmth that was more than just his body heat. You made your way to your bag to grab a change of clothes and John flipped on the lights. You put down all the paperwork and everything on the bed, kicked your shoes off and made your way to the bathroom to change.

Slipping out of your dress and into your shorts and tank top you pulled your hair into a haphazard ponytail and washed your face. Your head seemed clearer with the door closed between John and yourself, what had made you feel so giddy and frazzled. Sure John was an attractive, capable man, but you had worked with him before. Why would this case be any different than any other one?

When you opened the door the breath, as well as all rational thought, left your body as you took in the sight of John, shirt unbuttoned, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, laying on your bed. He had a puzzled look on his face as he was reading the papers you had sat down.

“Y/N, Darlin’, I think we might have a probl-” He cut himself off when he took in the sight of you in your lounge wear.

You took a few steps forward, and John swung his legs over the side of the bed to face you properly. His hands reached out to grab your hips and slot you in between his knees. He rested his head on your chest, and flexed his fingers on your hips, bunching up your shorts. Your breaths came in infrequent short bursts, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut as he held you close.

Your hands moved from John’s shoulders, when had you grabbed him?, to run your fingers through his hair. He groaned at the touch, and the combination of the sound and feel of it dampened your panties. His hands slid their way up your tank top, and lifted your arms so that he could remove the excess layer. As soon as your shirt hit the floor your hands were back in his hair, and his mouth was on your breasts alternating between the two with his hands and mouth. He quickly had your nipples freed from the cups of your sports bra, and lavished them each with opened mouth kisses.

Struggling to stay standing, your knees buried into the edge of the bed between John’s legs, your body held tight in the circle of his strong arms. One particularly exquisite bite from him had your fingers pull tight on the back of his head which caused you both to moan aloud. Taking his cue, John lifted you off the floor and rolled so that you were pinned to the bed under his weight.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’ve wanted this for so long. Can’t even tell you.” His mouth was all over your neck, nibbling on your ear, trailing down to your clavicle.

“Mmm, John!” He was hitting all of your most sensitive spots; it was as if he had a road map to all of your innermost desires.

John’s hands made their way down your body and he hooked his thumbs into your shorts and underwear; taking the hint, you lifted your hips so that he could rid you of the bottom layers of clothing. Once he had shed you of your shorts, his mouth slammed into yours in a bruising kiss. All sense of propriety forgotten as you ravaged each other. Your hands were much less graceful as you shoved his shirt the rest of the way off of him, and fumbled with his belt to get his pants off. You needed him, skin on skin, just as much as you needed air.

John chuckled softly against your neck before bracing himself up on one arm to undo his belt and undo his pants. Once the zipper was most of the way down, you regained your senses enough to pull them down under his ass. Your fingers brushed against his cock as you pulled your hands back up, and you felt it twitch at the touch. You wrapped your fingers around his impressive girth, and John bit down on your neck, hard, causing you to scream out.

He continued to bite and lick and kiss at your neck as you stroked him to full hardness. At some point one of his hands had ventured south and he began to work you open for him. You could hear the wet sloshy sounds of his fingers slipping in and out of your soaked cunt, and it only made you work him faster. With your free hand you grabbed the back of John’s head and pulled his mouth to yours.

The kiss was frantic and messy and by far the hottest thing you had ever done. After a moment he slipped his fingers out, and replaced your hand with his to line himself up. You braced yourself, grabbing his shoulders from underneath his arms, and holding on tight. Your brain registered some sort of noise outside your room, but not enough for you to linger on it. Just as you were about to ask John what was taking him so long, he shoved in. Your rarely used muscles burning at the desired intrusion as he slid all the way in, the head of his cock pressing into your cervix.

John paused for a moment before he eased out, and pushed back in again; setting a languid, steady pace. He filled you so wonderfully, and every stroke hit that sweet spot at your core and sent sparks flying behind your eyelids. His muscles flexed under your fingers, and his breaths were hot and heavy in your ear, he was building you up quickly; quicker than anyone had before.

You could feel your orgasm getting closer and closer, and you squeezed your eyes shut, clamping your inner walls tighter around John’s already thick cock. He moaned into your neck and the vibrations were the last stimulation you could take before you let go, exploding around him. He was only able to hold out for two more thrusts before he slammed in deep and stilled, pumping you full of his cum.

Before he was finished, and before you had truly regained the ability to breathe, it was like a cloud had lifted from your brain. You were suddenly very aware that John Winchester was naked above you and had just come inside of you. You both made eye contact at the same time and unceremoniously jerked away from each other; you flying to the head of the bed, flipping the edge of the comforter to cover yourself with, and him to the foot of the bed where he knelt on the floor to cover himself as well.

He looked at you, stricken. “Y/N,” you could hear the fear and regret in his voice, “please tell me we didn’t… ”

You weren’t sure who felt sicker about what had just happened. “We did.” Your stomach rolled, what the hell was going on?

Just then there was a loud bang on the door, John quickly slid into his pants and got them zipped and buttoned on his way to answer the door.

Dean came bursting in yelling, “Where the hell were you two?” Once he was in the room, he took in the state of his dad and you and his lip snarled into a disgusted look. “Uh, should I come back…?” he asked, equally mortified and confused.

“No,” both you and John answered at the same time.

“Yeah, well, it was a witch. It was that other lady at the Justice’s office, she was creeper stalking you guys outside the window, had a video camera and everything.” He shivered, then moved on. “I was able to get the drop on her, but she whammied me into the wall, luckily Sammy had snuck out and had those witch killing bullets from Uncle Bobby locked and loaded.” He rubbed the back of his head, no doubt waiting for John to lay into him about getting his little brother involved in the hunt.

“That actually makes sense now. You did good, Dean.” Dean’s eyes went wide when John put his hand on his shoulder, and you felt bad for him, not for the first time. All Dean ever seemed to want was John’s approval.

“But, Sammy-”

“Went against orders, and saved your ass. But you got the job done.” John looked him right in the eye, and Dean stood a little straighter. “Now, me and Y/N have some things we need to sort out, if you don’t mind.” He emphasized his point by nodding toward the door.

Dean’s face flushed and he glanced at you, then all but tripped over his feet trying to get out the room. Before the door had even shut, John had tossed you your tank top and shorts to slip back into. Luckily your bra was still on, but you weren’t going to fuss about missing underwear at the moment. John had his back to you as he slipped his shirt back on, and you stood to pull your shorts up. You both turned to face each other at the same time.

“So…” you started, not knowing exactly what needed to be said.

“Um, yeah. So, I noticed something while you were in the bathroom, before that spell took hold.”

You tried not to feel disappointed that the spell was the only reason that had happened. “What’s that?”

“Well, it seems that with all the commotion at the Justice’s office, and with that witch being there, that we both signed our real names to this marriage certificate.”

You choked on your intake of breath. “We what?”

“Y/N, looks like we just consummated our actual, legally binding, marriage.” His brows furrowed as he looked to you for your reaction, he didn’t even really sound disappointed.

“Well, hell, guess I’m a Winchester now, huh?” You shrugged it off, and watched as that sinful Winchester smile spread across his face.

Please reblog if you liked it! Feel free to ASK for anything else you may like to read or if you would like to be added to my tag list!

All the tags:

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[annablack1102]

Reminder...

To everyone who signed up for my writing challenge, it’s due this month!! March 17th to be exact. It’s okay if you’re not going to finish on time, I totally get it. Just let me know ;) But if you ARE finished, feel free to post it at any time. 

TAG YOUR FIC #annablack1102jdmchallenge in the first five tags so I can find them easier. 

Also, there’s two slots open still if anyone wants Apocalypse or Enemies to Lovers. Open to any JDM character so plenty of options. 

In case you forgot your trope or your character... Read below

@crzcorgi​ -- A/B/O with John Winchester @blackleatherjacketz​ -- Crime AU with Negan @rasa1945​ -- Fake Relationship with Negan @docharleythegeekqueen​ -- Hooker/Stripper with John Winchester @negansaysyouearnwhatyoutake​ -- Soul Mates with Negan @negans-writings​ -- Roommates with Jason Crouse @jewelswrites-ish​ -- Sugar Daddy with Negan @to-pick-ourselves-up-7​ -- Werewolf with Harvey Russell @thedeadwalks​ -- Vampire with Negan @cleighwrites​ -- Accidental Marriage with John Winchester @sherrybaby14​ -- Amnesia AU with Negan @negansdirtygirl22​ -- Blind Date with Negan @inappropriatecabbage​ -- Friends with Benefits with Negan @warriorqueen1991​ -- Trapped with Harvey Russell  @risingphoenix761​ -- Master/Slave with John Winchester @neganscherryblue​ -- Bed sharing with John Winchester @genevievedarcygranger​ -- Friends to Lovers with Negan 

Thanks again for signing up! <3 

[annablack1102]

Today’s the day!

Just wanted to remind those who signed up for my writing challenge that today’s the due date! 

Some of you already messaged me about being late and that’s fine. I totally understand if you haven’t been able to get it done yet so no worries. Life happens. Just remember when you post to tag my account and tag your fic as #annablack1102jdmchallenge 

Tagging those who haven’t already posted. (if you’re on this list and you posted already, just message me because I must have missed it <3 )

@crzcorgi @negansaysyouearnwhatyoutake @negans-writings @jewelswrites-ish @to-pick-ourselves-up-7 @sherrybaby14 @negansdirtygirl22 @warriorqueen1991 @risingphoenix761 @neganscherryblue @genevievedarcygranger

Thanks again!!

[annablack1102]

Oh hun can I please have the Trapped trope for Harvey Russell please!!! Lol 💕😉💕

Oooooh Harvey? We don't have enough of him. You definitely can!

[annablack1102]

I'm here in time for a challenge? Nice! Can I have master/slave with John Winchester, pretty please?

It's yours!! Excited for that one 😍😏

[annablack1102]

Hey! Congrats on 500 followers! 🎉 can I claim vampire negan for your challenge please? ♥️🥰

Thank you so much!! And oooh of courses you can! I'll add you to the list ♥️

[annablack1102]

Hi, dear! Congrats on the milestone! Can I have "roommates" with Jason Crouse? I'll be particapating with my writing blog; negans-writings

Oooh our first Jason pick! Yes, dear you may absolutely take that one! Thank you for joining ♥️

[annablack1102]

I would love to join your challenge! I’d like to write John and if trope #1 or 5 are still available I’d love one of them? And congratulations 🎉🎈

Absolutely!!! #1 is yours ♥️🎉

Thank you for joining darlin'.